The One You Really Want (25 page)

‘Women.' Rennie shook his head. ‘I'll never understand them.'

‘And what's been going on in the kitchen? Did World War Three break out while we were away?'

‘Sorry.' Sensing Carmen's embarrassment, Rennie said, ‘I did that. Bit of an accident with the cornflakes.'

‘You're a butterfingers,' Rose scolded good-naturedly. ‘Never mind, I'll have it cleared up in no time.
And
you've ruined your favourite shirt; honestly, you are hopeless.'

Deciding he'd been quite noble enough, Rennie said, ‘That wasn't me. It was Carmen.'

‘About time too.' Jonathan's tone was terse when Nancy returned his call the following morning. ‘I was expecting you to ring me yesterday.'

‘I've been busy.' Reaching across the kitchen table for her gloves, Nancy was interested and relieved to discover that the sound of his voice did absolutely nothing for her. It left her cold. In the space of just a few weeks she was over Jonathan. It was even possible to find him faintly pathetic.

‘How have you been?'

‘Fine.' It was true, she had. In fact, better than fine.

‘We need to talk,' said Jonathan.

‘Isn't that what we're doing now?'

‘I mean properly.' He paused and cleared his throat. ‘Face to face. I could . . . come down to London, if you want.'

‘What for?' Nancy checked her watch; she really had to leave for work in five minutes.

‘To sort this out. Decide what we're going to do.'

‘Get a divorce. It's simple enough, isn't it? There's no need for you to fly down,' said Nancy. ‘I'll find a solicitor, tell him to—'

‘Look, I don't want a divorce.' Hurriedly Jonathan went on, ‘I'm not with Paula any more. It's over.'

Well, well. Who'd have thought it? ‘Over? That was quick. Did you get the ring back?'

‘It was never serious. Paula was just a bit of—'

‘A floozy?' guessed Nancy.

‘A bit of fun, I was going to say. But I suppose that's not right. She was just
there
,' Jonathan said weakly, ‘and she was available. She was the one who made all the running. To be honest, she threw herself at me. And I suppose I was . . .'

‘Stupid? Unfaithful?' Nancy suggested helpfully. ‘A complete shit?'

‘
Flattered
.' Jonathan sounded irritated. ‘But it was never meant to be anything important. The last thing I wanted was to jeopardise our marriage.'

‘Should have thought of that before you got her knickers off.'

‘I know, I
know
,' he exploded with frustration, ‘but you were never supposed to find out!'

‘Ah, but I did find out,' Nancy said easily. ‘And what's more, I'm
glad
I found out.'

‘Nancy, listen to me, I don't want a divorce! I still love you! I made one tiny mistake,' Jonathan groaned, ‘and I'm
sorry
.'

‘Well, that's incredibly generous of you, but the answer's still no. Because I don't love you and I definitely want a divorce.' God, it felt so great to be saying this and to actually mean it. Re-checking her watch, Nancy said, ‘Look, I'm sorry, but I do have to go now.'

‘It's him, isn't it! Jesus, you
are
sleeping with him.' She heard disbelief mingled with fury in Jonathan's voice, reverberating down the phone.

‘What?' Nancy smothered laughter.

‘Rennie Todd,' Jonathan shouted. ‘You're letting him screw you! Is he spinning you a line, is that it? Do you think he's serious about you? Because I'm telling you now, you're kidding yourself if you do. He's sleeping with you because you're there, willing and available.'

‘Bit like you and Paula then.' Nancy couldn't resist it.

‘He can have anyone he wants, for fuck's sake! He's just
using
you.'

‘Or,' Nancy said cheerfully, ‘I could be using him.'

Jonathan made a noise like an old-fashioned kettle coming to the boil. Rennie, choosing this moment to wander into the kitchen wearing nothing but the blue and white striped shorts he'd slept in, yawned and said, ‘I don't know about you, but I could use a cup of tea.'

‘Is that him?' roared Jonathan. ‘Jesus, don't tell me you're in bed with him now! He'll dump you, you do realise that, don't you? Men like him have a different groupie for every night of the week.'

‘Thanks, Jonathan, but you don't need to worry about me. I can look after myself.' As she said it, Rennie raised his eyebrows enquiringly and Nancy nodded, grinning.

‘Sweetheart,' said Rennie, ‘aren't you cold with no clothes on? Here, let me warm you up.'

‘I have to go,' Nancy said hastily, cutting an outraged Jonathan off in mid-splutter.

‘Sounds a bit agitated,' observed Rennie.

‘He thinks we're having an affair.'

‘Serves him right. Before you know it, he'll be deciding he wants you back.'

‘He already has.' Taking a last hasty gulp of lukewarm coffee Nancy said, ‘Just now. I turned down his generous offer.'

‘Hey, that's great.' Rennie sounded genuinely pleased. ‘Good for you. Fancy a quickie to celebrate?'

‘Sorry, late for work already.' Smiling, Nancy grabbed her handbag and inwardly marvelled at how fantastic she felt. Turning down Jonathan had done wonders for her self-esteem. Maybe one day an attractive man would make her an offer along the lines of the one Rennie had just suggested and actually mean it.

Wrenching open the front door, she unexpectedly came face to face with the attractive man she had secretly hoped might be the one to make that offer. Almost cannoning right into his chest, Nancy jumped and let out an undignified yelp of surprise.

‘Sorry, sorry.' Connor held out his hands and steadied her, which did nothing to calm her frantically racing heart. ‘Didn't mean to give you a fright. I was just about to ring the bell.'

‘Caught me by surprise.' Clutching her chest, Nancy took deep breaths and tried not to notice how gorgeous he was looking. OK, maybe not gorgeous - Connor was too scruffy for that - but irresistible all the same. ‘Um, did you want to see Rennie?'

‘You, actually.' Apologetically Connor said, ‘But I can see it's not a good time, you're rushing off to work.'

‘What about?'

‘No, it's fine, I don't want to make you late.'

Which was like plonking a huge, thrillingly gift-wrapped present into a six-year-old's arms, then snatching it back and saying, ‘Actually, don't open it yet.'

‘You're here now. I'm not going to be late.' The big lie tripped effortlessly off Nancy's tongue. Poor Zac, less than a week and already she was turning into Jacintha. Reversing back into the hall, she said, ‘Now, what was it you wanted?' and briefly - shamelessly - allowed her imagination to run riot.

‘OK, this won't take two minutes. It's actually Mia's idea,' Connor admitted, which Nancy felt was promising. Had Mia persuaded him that if he wanted a new and
far
nicer girlfriend than Sadie Sylvester, he need look no further than next door?

‘Mia's full of ideas,' said Nancy, aware that this was a less than dazzling response but powerless to come up with anything witty at short notice.

‘Tell me about it. Let's hope this one's better than the last.' Connor pulled a wry face, which was less encouraging. ‘Anyway the thing is, my secretary's eight months pregnant and she's starting her maternity leave on Friday. We're holding a party at the club. I was going to buy a cake, then Mia told me about the one you'd made for Rennie.'

‘Hi.' Emerging from the kitchen clutching a slice of toast and Marmite, Rennie said interestedly, ‘What cake?'

‘Hey there.' Connor greeted him with a cheerful nod. ‘The one Nancy made for your birthday. The curry cake.'

Connor turned back to Nancy. ‘Did I get this wrong? Chicken Madras and pilau rice, Mia said. She described it to me down to the last detail.'

‘I know I eat weird stuff,' Rennie complained, ‘but not that weird.'

‘It's OK.' Nancy waved her hands, embarrassed. ‘I made a cake for your birthday but you flew over to New York so you didn't get it. I threw it away.'

‘Bloody good job,' declared Rennie, who could sometimes be
too
blunt. ‘I'm glad I went to New York now.' Gazing in horror at Nancy he said, ‘Whatever were you thinking of?'

‘Will you shut up and listen?' Nancy wished she'd never made the bloody thing now. ‘It didn't taste of curry, OK? It was a normal sponge cake inside, decorated to look like a plate of chicken Madras and rice.'

‘Mia said it was fantastic,' Connor added supportively.

Feeling cross and a bit stupid, Nancy said, ‘It
was
fantastic. But don't worry, I won't be making you another one, that's for sure.'

She was glaring at Rennie. Raising his eyebrows in apology, Connor said, ‘Hey, I'm sorry, I didn't come here to cause trouble.'

‘No,
I'm
sorry.' Rennie shook his head with genuine regret. ‘Misunderstanding. It sounds great. Going to all that trouble, just for me. I'm really touched. You shouldn't have thrown it away.'

Nancy felt her cheeks burning, because they were both looking at her now and Connor was probably thinking she must have a bit of a crush on Rennie. Dammit, Rennie was undoubtedly thinking the same thing.

‘It would have been stale by the time you got back. Look, forget it, no big deal.' She turned abruptly to Connor and said, ‘So you want me to make one for your secretary, is that it?'

‘Well, that was the idea . . . I mean, I'd pay you of course,' Connor added hastily. ‘But if you're too busy, that's fine, I'll just buy one from—'

‘I have to go to work now.' Feeling hot, frazzled and ashamed of herself for behaving like a teenager in a strop, Nancy said, ‘Of course I'll do you a cake. Look, I'll be home by six. Why don't you come over this evening and we'll talk about the kind of thing you want.'

 

‘Afternoon, Jacintha,' said Zac, when Nancy arrived out of breath at the shop.

‘I know, I know, I'm so sorry.' In her hurry to unwind her scarf, Nancy wound it the wrong way and almost garrotted herself. ‘It won't happen again. I've just had a bit of a frantic morning, my husband wants me to go back to him and he thinks I'm having an affair with Rennie and our neighbour called round just as I was leaving the house and then—'

‘Hey, relax, we're only teasing you.' Zac, with Doreen on his lap, was beaming all over his face. ‘It's eight minutes past nine, silly, not eight minutes past three. Anyway, never mind about that.' He bounced on his chair so excitedly that Doreen's ears jiggled like wings. ‘Enough about you, let's talk about me!
Guess
who I met last night?'

So this was why he'd been waiting impatiently for her to come in.

‘Boy George.' Reaching across him to switch on the computer, Nancy hoped Zac wasn't going to be wittering on for the next twenty minutes; she had a heap of emails to get through.

‘More like Boy George's gorgeous blond Scandinavian son,' Zac said happily. ‘If he had one.'

‘I don't think he has. Go on then, tell me everything. Well,' Nancy hastily amended, ‘not
everything
. . .'

‘His name's Sven.' Zac gazed dreamily at the wall, where a hologram of the glorious Sven was evidently hovering. ‘He's twenty-five, blue eyes, white-blond hair, teeth to die for. You should see him, he looks like a model. I told him he should approach an agency.'

‘What kind of work's he doing now?' Nancy's attempts at opening her emails were hampered by Doreen's determination to capture the mouse with her paw.

‘Well, nothing right now.' Did Zac sound defensive? ‘I mean, back in Malmo he's in PR, but he took a few months off to come over here and last night we just clicked. I walked into the bar and there he was, all on his own. He took one look at me. I couldn't
stop
looking at him. So I offered to buy him a drink and that was that, from then on we were just chatting non-stop. I'm telling you, if you could
see
this boy's cheekbones . . .'

‘OK, put Doreen down and listen to me. Concentrate,' Nancy ordered, because Zac was lit up like a fairground ride. ‘Don't rush into anything. Don't get carried away. Take your time and
don't
do anything stupid like ask him to move in with you.'

Zac's shoulders slumped. Resentfully, he said, ‘I can't believe you're being so mean.'

‘I'm not being mean. You told me to say all those things,' Nancy reminded him. ‘Two days ago, remember, when you announced you were turning over a new leaf?'

‘Oh God, I know, I
know
I did.' Impatiently Zac waved the reminder away, like a dieter fed up with saying no to cream cakes. ‘But Sven is different, I promise. This time it's for real. We get on so well, he's just a genuinely nice guy, if you could meet him you'd see I'm right.'

It was Carmen and Joe all over again. You couldn't order people to control their emotions, Nancy was discovering. Zac wasn't going to take a blind bit of notice of anything she had to say.

‘Fine. I'm happy you're happy. Now, can I make a start on these emails?'

‘Hang on, what was it you said when you came in?' Belatedly Zac slipped out of me-mode and did a double-take. ‘Your husband wants you to go back to him? Back to
Scotland
?'