‘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.'