The Birds and the Bees(32)

‘Do tell me more,' Adam said, as if the drama of it all was killing him. Not.

‘Well, I told him that I had my life now and he had his. I think he was quite surprised.'

‘Oh, right.'

Stevie snapped. ‘Mr MacLean, you asked me to keep you updated. That's  exactly what I'm doing. Sorry to have bothered you.' Then she hit  disconnect before he came back at her with any more of his hilarious dry  Scottish wit.



Adam MacLean had been about to say, ‘Yes, I know you did and I  appreciate it,' when she had a hissy fit and slammed the phone down on  him. It was obviously that week every week with her. Luckily they  weren't in the same room or she would probably have thrown a vase at  him, that being her usual trick when she didn't get her own way,  apparently. She should have been grateful he spoke to her at all;  everyone else had had a grunt today, if they were lucky.

That morning the bed had seemed much emptier and colder than before and  it hit him hard and low that Jo might just have gone for ever. Then he  sprang out of that cold lonely bedroom and he knew that it wouldn't  happen, because he wouldn't, couldn't let her go – and even if he had to  marry that bloody Stevie woman to make Jo intrigued or jealous enough to  come back to him, then he would – although he hoped to heaven and back  that it wouldn't come to that. Then Adam opened his birthday cards.





Chapter 26




Catherine flopped on the sofa and stuck her feet up on the footstool.

‘Here you go,' said Eddie, and placed a large glass of white wine in her hand.

‘Thank you, my big gorgeous darling,' said Catherine.

‘Flaming Norah! How many have you had already?'

Catherine laughed and took a mighty swig that she felt snake down to her  tum and then rocket back up to her brain. ‘God, I needed that. I mean,  much as I love my kids, I do so enjoy this time of night when it's just  you and me,' she said, snuggling down into the big cushions on the sofa  and grabbing the TV mag. There was a Dalziel and Pascoe on in half an  hour on cable, and the curry was due to arrive in twenty minutes from  the Koh-i-noor. Bliss!                       
       
           



       

‘All right if I go out with Large White and Judd tomorrow for a couple  of jars? I'll be back by eleven,' said Eddie. Not that he had to clock  in and clock out, but he had a faulty male wire that compelled him to  ring home and give info and not be on an elastic band. In fact, all the  considerate things that according to Men are from Mars … he shouldn't have  done if he had a willy.

‘Yeah, course,' she said. ‘You don't have to ask me, love.'

‘I know,' he said and smiled over and she smiled back and they settled  into an easy relaxed silence whilst the box entertained them.

‘Funny though,' said Eddie eventually.

‘What is?' said Catherine, holding out her drained glass for a fill-up.  Eddie reached down to the side of him and recharged it for her.

‘Well, I've been thinking, if you did mind about me going out for a  night, say if you were the possessive type, you wouldn't exactly let me  go to a health spa for a week, would you?'

‘You're going to a health spa?' said Catherine.

‘Am I hell. I'm not talking about me, I'm talking about that Jo and the  big Scottish bloke. How come he never let her out of his sight but he  was okay about her going to that health spa? You know, the one she never  actually went to.'

‘Hmmm, I see what you mean, yes,' said Catherine.

‘I was watching him at the wedding, you know, and he looked an okay  bloke to me. I don't buy all that wifebeater stuff. Something wrong  somewhere.'

Catherine nodded. Her thoughts had been running along the same lines,  but her brain reminded her how wrong they had been about Matthew. Maybe  they weren't such good judges of character as they believed. Still,  interesting point. She should tell Stevie.

Catherine lifted the phone to dial Stevie's number when it rang in her  hand and she picked up to find the very person she wanted to speak to.  It happened quite a lot to them.

‘Listen,' said Catherine excitedly, ‘Eddie's brain grinds slowly but  exceedingly small and he's just come up with the point that if Adam  MacLean had Jo on such a tight leash, how come he was okay about letting  her go to a health farm for a week?'

‘I don't know,' said Stevie, mulling it over. ‘It's a bit weird, I suppose, isn't it?'

‘Yes, isn't it.'

‘But then Adam MacLean is weird full stop. He probably had a "plan" to do with that, too.'

‘No! Do you think?' Catherine said.

‘Most likely. Maybe he suspected something but gave her some space to  smoke her out.' It wasn't information Stevie attached any great  significance to, but, nevertheless, she filed it in her mind under ‘B'  for MacLean. Then she went on to tell Catherine about that day's  adventure with Matthew and the parcel, pausing periodically to allow a  few choice expletives to air from her friend. Stevie found it gave her  some comfort to be free temporarily to hate the man out loud whom she  still wanted so very much within.



Across the road, all thoughts of cancelled weddings were now in the  wheelie bin with the box of stationery. With an arm around his sleepy  lover, Matthew flicked lazily through Ceefax at the news, then the  football results, then the numbers for the previous night's lottery  draw. Not that he expected anything; he had only won about three tenners  ever, or so it felt. At one point he had been buying Thunderballs,  EuroMillions, Hot Picks, Extras, Daily Plays and then the Irish Lottery  too until he realized he really, really couldn't afford to carry on, and  resigned himself to the occasional Lucky Dip and a regular line twice a  week. He had just changed his numbers to his and Jo's birthdays and the  date they first made love. Numbers that were now on the screen in front  of him.

‘That can't be right,' he said, dislodging Jo for a moment in order to get out his ticket from the drawer.

‘What's the matter?' Jo asked. She was just about asleep with the  delicious combination of a very nice white wine, a very nice warm room  and a very nice man stroking her arm very nicely.

‘I've won the Wednesday lottery!' said Matthew, checking the screen  numbers against his ticket numbers. A cold hand grabbed his innards  tightly as he thought it was out of date, then realized to his relief  that it wasn't. Jo, now fully awake, snatched it out of his hand and  double-checked it.

‘Five, you've got five. My God, how much is that?' she shrieked.

‘I don't know, I don't know!' he said. He didn't like to hazard a guess.

‘How do you find out?'                       
       
           



       

‘I don't know, I've only ever won tenners.'

Jo looked at the back of the lottery ticket. ‘You have to ring Camelot! Quick, hand me the phone!'

Matthew handed her the phone. The line was engaged, so was his head. He  could clear all his debts and start a clean slate. He would tear all his  Visas up and live within his means. Then again, it was sensible to keep  one or two to pay for purchases and holidays, for the extra insurance  they gave. A holiday in Barbados for instance, Jo in that white bikini  during the day, that little red G-string during the evening and nothing  at all during the night.

‘Try again!'

‘Still engaged!'

‘Here, let me try!'

‘Anything?'

‘Engaged again.'

‘Matt, go and get some champagne.'

‘What?'

Jo kissed him. She was fizzing like a bottle of Bollinger. ‘Go and get  some champagne. We have to! Oh please. Let's toast our luck.'

She looked at him in that sultry big-lashed way of hers that was full of  lust and promise of even more lust. Goddammit, she was gorgeous. He  didn't need champagne to make his heart any more thrilled. He would have  got the same effect from a carton of Um Bongo if it was shared with Jo.  But she had other ideas.

‘Please, darling. If ever there was a champagne moment, this is it.'

‘Twenty quid for some champagne,' said the part of his head that  governed his pant-area. ‘You're going to have thousands in the bank in a  couple of days, you can please the lady with a bottle, surely?'

‘Okay,' he relented, and she jumped up and down and clapped her hands like a little girl.

‘Bring back two,' she said. ‘We'll get horribly drunk and ring in sick  tomorrow and then spend all day in bed and plan what we're going to do  with the money.'

Matthew already had his shoes on.

‘Don't ring again until I get back,' he warned sexily. ‘Or I'll have to smack your bottom.'