The Birds and the Bees(12)

       
           



       

‘Stevie.' He started scratching the back of his neck. Something he did  when he was nervous, usually when opening a bank statement.

‘Yes?' she said, still wearing that ridiculous smile onto which she was  hanging tenuously, because this was it, this was the moment. The way he  said her name suggested that what was to follow was not good news.

‘Stevie, when I was away, I did a lot of thinking. Alone. Lying under the sun … er … bed.'

Lying being the operative word.

‘Oh, did you?' Smile, smile. Thinking and shagging. And spending my son's holiday money!

‘I don't know how to say this so I'll just come straight out with it … '

Oh God, oh God …

‘I'm listening,' she said, presenting her bravest and most understanding face.

‘I think … '

Oh, please don't say it, Matthew, please don't!

‘ … I think we should take a bit of time out. Before the wedding.' Damn, I  didn't mean to mention the wedding, Matt thought. Now I've made it look  as if it's still on.

Which was exactly what Stevie was thinking.

‘Before the wedding' – that means it's still on! Thank You, God!

She tested him. ‘You mean, like, split up?' she said.

‘No … yes … no … '

Damn! Her total reasonableness threw him. He had expected her to start  crying and pleading and throwing things, then he would have had licence  to storm off. This was so much harder, her being calm and nice and  giving him nothing to kick against.

‘Okay, if that's what you want,' she said, nodding. ‘I totally understand.'

‘Eh? Oh, right then.' Bloody hell! That was easy!

Maybe it was because she was one step ahead of him, knowing the ‘game'  that she found some strength. As if she was in Danny's Harry Potter and  had just eaten a slice of rejuvenating pumpkin pie.

‘So how do we do this?' said Ms Chirpy the drugged-up, happy-sounding canary.

‘Er, well, let's think.'

Like you haven't thought already, Matthew!

He tapped his lip with his finger whilst considering the options.

‘Maybe if I move into a B&B for a few days, just to give you a  chance to get your stuff together,' he said, as if it had just come to  him.

‘My stuff?' echoed Stevie, a little breathlessly.

‘Yes. I think it might be for the best if you … er … moved out for a bit.'

‘Oh yes, I see – of course "my stuff",' she said, stretching her smile  that bit further. Her thoughts were screaming at her from the sidelines  to think positive and focus on the fact that he hadn't asked her to  cancel the wedding . This was all still salvageable if she stuck to her  plan of being ‘nice-accepting lady'. ‘Right. Okay then. Yes, you're  probably right.' God, this was starting to hurt so much.

‘Just for a while,' he said, which again wasn't what he meant at all,  but it was easier to let her go with a little hope in her heart. It  staved off the histrionics, at least.

‘I'll obviously need to take some money out of the Euro-Disney trip  account for a room or rent or whatever,' she said, not letting her face  slip and upping the sweetness levels to offset the contentious subject  of ‘their' money. She couldn't wait to find out what he had to say to  that one.

‘Oh, er … I had to borrow some of it.' He wriggled a bit and looked more  sheepish than a freezer full of mutton on an Australian farm.

‘Did you? What was that for?' Plastic smile again, but the urge to wring his neck was getting pretty strong too.

‘Petrol and stuff in Scotland. I'll pay it back. Obviously. Emergency.' He actually had the good grace to go red now.

‘Oh, yes, okay. If you could, considering what it was for.'

‘Absolutely, straight away.'

Stevie nodded, although she had heard that one just a few times too often from him to believe it any more.

‘Well, right then,' she carried on, leashing her anger with desperate  effort. She had to be in control, their future happiness together  depended on it. This, after all, was a much wider picture than a lost  fifteen hundred quid and a couple of lust-driven lies.

‘I'll go and get a few bits together then,' he said nervously, edging upstairs.

‘Yes, why not.' The smile weighed heavy and was getting painful to keep  up. She wanted to let it drop, right onto the floor where she could  stamp it flat and vomit all over it.

Matthew backed off upstairs and at least she took some comfort from the  fact that she had rattled him with her coolness and self-possession. She  had done something right at least. This time.                       
       
           



       

She could hear him padding about upstairs, opening drawers, and she  followed him in her imagination. He would pack that beautiful blue silk  shirt, and the chinos that always made his bottom look nice, and his  best suit so he could take Jo out for a posh meal somewhere. He liked to  wine and dine, and he always looked so handsome in a suit, especially  by candlelight.

She found she was not quite strong enough to hold all the tears back.  They started to leak out of the corners of her eyes, faster than she  could wipe them away, but wipe them away she did as soon as she heard  his footsteps coming down the stairs, faster than a small child's on  Christmas morning. Then he crossed to the drawer and got out his mobile  phone. He had left it there deliberately, of course, she knew, but she  didn't react.

‘Look, I'll be in touch soon, promise,' he said, carrying a very large case and some suits in covers.

‘Yes, well, you take care,' she said. She needed three big lads and some  scaffolding now to hold up this smile. She came forward and hugged him  and tried to let go first – it was basic psychology that the one in  control always did that – and she just managed it, but she had to fight  back the urge to hang onto him for ever.

‘Goodbye, Stevie. Give my love to little Danny.'

‘I will,' she said, thinking how final ‘goodbye' sounded. Why hadn't he  just said ‘bye'? There was a difference. Then he was gone, without one  glance of recognition that she had had her hair done or was half a stone  lighter.

She didn't wave his car off, she just sat on the sofa and let that  infernal smile drop into a reverse of itself – a deep, downward arc. Then,  when she could no longer hear the sound of his engine, she let her head  fall into her hands and sobbed her heart out.





Chapter 12




Matthew had worn a path into the carpet by the time he heard the  footsteps creak up the staircase outside the hotel room. He checked his  watch for the eighteenth million time – six minutes to six and six  seconds – threw open the door before the soft knock had ended and fell  upon a wide-eyed Jo.

‘I was so worried!' he said, taking her in his arms. He had his mobile  in his hand, ready to ring the police. It had been a close call.

‘Sorry,' she said, sniffling. ‘He was there. It was pretty gruelling.'

He pulled her away from him and studied her, looking for signs of  violence but thankfully there was nothing, only pale lines on her face  where tears had cut through her make-up. Then again, MacLean didn't hit  her where it showed, did he?

‘Are you okay? He didn't-?'

‘No,' Jo said, snuggling further into him to take his warmth and comfort. ‘Not really.'

‘What do you mean, "not really", darling?' said Matthew, rearing a little.

‘Well, at least I got away. Let's just say, he started getting a bit rough.'

She winced as his hands fell on her shoulder and she let him gently  unbutton the top of her shirt to find small deep fingernail-shaped  crescents on her shoulder, and bruising already forming around them.

‘The swine! I'm getting the police.'

Matthew pulled out his mobile, but Jo stilled his hand.

‘No,' she said. ‘It's over. I don't want any more police. I've seen too  many of them in the past. I don't want to file another report. Nothing  ever comes of it anyway, except he gets more annoyed. Please, darling.  Let's just get on with the rest of our lives now. I'm free of him.'

She looked at him with her heavily fringed dark treacle eyes glistening with tears and he relented.

‘Oh baby!' He squeezed her tight and then let go temporarily when  someone else knocked on the door. Matthew opened it to find three  porters standing there with six massive suitcases. ‘Wow!' he said.

‘It'll be a relief to get them over to your house,' Jo said, adding pointedly, ‘sooner rather than later.'

‘Stevie is going to move out as soon as she can,' said Matthew.

‘How was she? Upset?'

‘No, actually,' said Matthew, shaking his head, as if he didn't quite  believe it himself. ‘She was … er … very understanding. Very understanding  indeed.'