My Fake Wedding(128)

‘Oh God.’

‘He won’t help you now. Come on. Let’s do it.’ Reluctantly, I climb back into the Rustbucket, pausing only to load Janice in through the passenger door. Then we pootle off to Islington to face the music.

‘Oh look,’ I say in mock disappointment as we pull up outside George’s. ‘They’ve both gone. Never mind. Closure is just going to have to wait. I have chocolate biscuits inside.’

But, as I open the front door, I soon realise we aren’t alone. I can hear the clattering of pots and pans. The fridge door opening and closing. And my mum’s voice, bright and cheerful, as she comes bustling out to meet me.

‘Katie,’ she grins, ‘how was the holiday?’

‘Lovely thanks, Mum.’ I’m surprised by how pleased I am to see her. She seems so comfortable, somehow, after all that’s happened over the past few days.

‘And Janice.’ Mum beams. ‘How’s the little one? Gosh, you’re as big as a bus now, aren’t you?’

Actually, Janice is still tiny, but that’s just Mum being Mum. ‘Fine thanks, Mrs S.’

‘And how’s Sam? Enjoy himself, did he? He said he’d ring when he got back but we haven’t heard a thing. Not a sausage.’

‘Hrmmph.’

‘Oh, you haven’t fallen out again, have you? Never mind. I’ve brought round some leftover casserole in case you were hungry. And all that paperwork I’ve kept up for you. And I found these two on the doorstep. Look. This nice young man says he’s brought your pants back.’

Bugger.

Buggery, buggery fuck.

Sitting either side of George’s kitchen table, each tucking in to a steaming plate of Mum’s lamb stew and dumplings, are Nick and Jake.

‘I told them they were welcome any time.’ She bustles about finding a chair for Janice.

‘Great.’

‘Don’t worry,’ she whispers in my ear and points at Jake as I reach for a tea mug. ‘You don’t want to know what went into his.’

I grin. Despite my squibbly tummy at the prospect of a showdown, I can’t help thinking how bloody marvellous it is that my mum has known all along exactly what Jake was like. And there was me thinking he’d had her duped.

‘Is there something you’d like to say, Katie?’ Jake looks at me angrily.

‘Yeah,’ I sip Mum’s tea. ‘You’re a wanker.’

Nick says nothing, just tucks into another helping of Mum’s stew. Silly beggar hasn’t really clocked what’s going on.

‘I came round to offer to leave Tracy.’ Jake is beetroot with anger.

I shrug. ‘Well, you had to see sense sometime.’

‘But it appears you’ve been seeing someone else,’ he nods in Nick’s direction. Nick looks up from a mouthful of mashed potato and flashes me a heart-warming grin.

‘I told ’im,’ he admits. ‘’Ope you don’t mind. See, the thing is, I were coming round to give you them clothes back. Me mum’s washed ’em.’

‘Oh, er, thanks.’

‘I sorta fort it weren’t workin’. What with you and me. It’s just that you’re dead clever.’

‘Well.’ I blather, feeling a stab of pleasure at the look of fury on Jake’s face.

‘I mean you read them big newspapers and everythin’.’

‘It’s fine, Nick.’ I smile at him. God, this is going to be so easy. Nick/Dudley, whatever his name is, doesn’t appear to be hurt at all. In fact, as long as I don’t get between him and his plate, I really think he’ll leave here as happy as a pig in shit.

Jake, on the other hand, is a different matter. I really couldn’t give a toss how he feels. And I’ve got my mum and Janice here to hold my hand.

‘So it’s true then?’ Jake challenges.

‘Well, you heard the man,’ I say. ‘And he isn’t some highly paid actor I’ve wheeled out just to get one up on you.’

‘I thought we were seeing each other.’ Jake pushes his plate of food away with distaste and Mum, noticing this, looks as though she might be about to bang him over the head with the griddle pan she’s washing.

‘We were,’ I agree. ‘But I was seeing some other people too. Just like you. But now I don’t really feel like seeing you any more. So you may as well go back to Fishpants. Go on. Get out.’

Stunned, Jake gets to his feet, grabs his mobile and looks at my mum. Mum folds her arms in the manner of someone Not To Be Messed With, and he scuttles for the door. Janice smirks. Worried he might be affronted, I look at Nick. But he merely looks up from his plate and asks if anyone minds if he finishes Jake’s helping.