The Birds and the Bees(37)

Stevie waited a good three-quarters of an hour after she had seen  Matthew come in from work before going over the road. She had to be seen  to be extra casual. Luck was on her side as Matthew's head seemed to be  zipping across the window as if he was moving things from one place to  another.

‘I'm just popping across the road. I'll be ten seconds, poppet!' she called to Danny.

‘Okay, Mummy!'

Stevie lifted up the Visa bill that Adam had given her, and walked  slowly and deliberately across the road. She had been dying to steam it  open, but hadn't fallen prey to the temptation.                       
       
           



       

He's seen me, she thought, on noticing how Matthew jumped back from the  window. That hurt a lot. Did he really have to insult her by pretending  he wasn't in? What had she ever done to him to deserve this? The small  act turned her jellied nerves to steel. She put the envelope through his  letterbox without ceremony and returned home, not looking behind her.  Then she texted Adam to tell him that she'd done it. Then she waited.



As soon as Matthew had jumped back from the window, he felt cross with  himself. It was a stupid, puerile reaction, a ridiculous thing to do and  she must have seen him. ‘She didn't deserve that,' said the old  Matthew. The nice, friendly, kind one with a conscience that he had  stuffed away in order to allow himself to act in the way he had been  doing for the past few months. He had wanted Jo so much, there was no  easy way to get her, there were bound to be casualties. All's fair in  love and war. He recited the mantra when the doubts crept up on him and  his own brain started to mutiny and call him a selection of choice  names. All's fair …

The letterbox clacked and the single envelope dropped on the doormat. He  stole up to it, as if it might contain something harmful or demanding,  then, tentatively, he lifted it to see it was just a Visa bill for Jo.  He wondered how much her outstanding amount was, and if there was enough  credit left on it to buy a badly needed vacuum cleaner. He stuck it on  the mantelpiece to give to her later and thought no more about it.

Thought no more about it, that was, until half past midnight, when his  cooling brain was resting on the pillow, sifting through which head  rubbish to throw into dreams, which bits of the day to put in the ‘in'  tray and which in the ‘out'. When its attentions came to Jo's letter, it  stopped its manic business abruptly and nudged him rudely awake.

Why did Stevie have Jo's post?

Matthew went downstairs and got the envelope bearing Jo's old address,  the one she shared with her husband. He couldn't work it out. The only  way Stevie could have got this was if MacLean gave it to her. But why  would he do that? How come they knew each other? What did it all mean?  What was he up to? What was she up to? He didn't get it. His brain  started to ache from trying to work it all out.

Matthew didn't get any more sleep that night, and not even the big  bread-knife he tucked under his pillow brought him any feeling of  security.



The next morning he waited until Jo was dressed before he handed over  the envelope to her. She looked at it, then immediately threw it down as  if it was contaminated.

‘How did you get this?' she asked. ‘Did Adam bring it round? Shit, he knows where we live, doesn't he?'

Jo looked nervous and frightened, and Matt immediately leapt out of his seat to wrap her up in a big safe cuddle.

‘Well, there's the mystery. Stevie posted it.' He felt her stiffen even more.

‘Stevie? Stevie? How the hell did she get it?'

‘I don't know.'

Jo ran to the window. ‘What is she up to?' she said, screwing up her face as if she was casting a hex. ‘Or should I say they?'

‘They who?'

‘My ex and your ex. They both have an axe to grind, wouldn't you say?'

Matthew laughed. ‘You can't seriously be insinuating that Stevie and Adam have got together, can you?'

‘Don't be ridiculous,' Jo jeered. ‘Adam wouldn't look at someone like Stevie Honeywell.'

Matthew had been about to ask what was so wrong with Stevie, but the hard look in Jo's eyes told him that might be unwise.

‘I'm going to go over there and ask her how she got this,' he said, rolling up his sleeves, nervously rather than aggressively.

‘Don't be silly!' snapped Jo. ‘That's exactly what she wants you to do.'

‘But I want to find out if he knows where I live!' Matthew gulped. Oh  God! He would come home from work tonight and find a horse's head in his  bed.

‘I don't know how he could know that,' said Jo. ‘I told him you lived at the other side of Wakefield.'

‘He could have followed us. You said it yourself – he's nuts, isn't he?'

Jo was about to say something, but swallowed it. Instead she started to nod slowly in agreement.

‘Yes, that's possible, I suppose. Then again, I think he would have done  something a bit more drastic than this. Not exactly his style – grievous  bodily letter delivering, if you know what I mean. And Adam wouldn't  have got the wrong house.' Which means he's up to something.

‘So what's going on then?' Matthew querried.                       
       
           



       

Jo thought of what had happened when she had returned home from Majorca  and told Adam she was leaving him. She should have realized from his  reaction that he had something more up his sleeve. Hmmm. Her previous  suspicions had been correct after all. How stupid had she been, to think  that Adam really had let her go?

She flapped her hand, as if dismissing the whole other side of the street.

‘Look Matt, I'm sorry, but I am not playing psychological games with  Stevie because that's what she wants me to do. It's not fair on her. She  obviously needs help.'

‘You seem very sure that's what she's doing.'

Jo nodded slowly. She felt suddenly empowered, thrilled. Adam still wants me.

‘I know how women think, Matt, because – surprise, surprise – I'm a woman myself.' She cocked an eyebrow. ‘Wanna see some proof?'

‘Yes, please.'

Once again, Jo and Matthew were late for work.



Adam MacLean rang Stevie at ten.

‘What time does your wee boy go tae his bed?' he asked.

‘About half past seven,' said Stevie. ‘He's always asleep for eight.'

‘I'll be round at nine,' said Adam. ‘Feel free not to cook anything.'

And Stevie thought, Even when the guy's talking English, he makes no sense at all.





Chapter 31




The anticipation of having Adam MacLean come to the house was worse than  having a real date because at least on one of those, the chances were  you were going to be with a person who liked you, not with someone just  aching to criticize and score points. Was she supposed to cook or what?  She could throw him a bone, she supposed, and watch him gnaw it whilst  she had a sandwich. Like she was going to give him the satisfaction of  calling her inhospitable! She wasn't the most fantastic cook in the  world but she could throw together a very nice chilli. Stevie made  rather a huge one for that night and poured a big slodge of red wine in  it. At least if he didn't eat, she could freeze it for herself. And eat  it over the coming decade.

With Danny tucked up in bed, Stevie put a light blue blouse on and her  jeans. On the slim off-chance that Matthew happened to see them, she  would look out to impress but with a foot in casual. Perfect. Had  posting Jo's letter done the trick? Had that one small stone caused big  ripples in their happy water life? If so, they would be watching out for  activity at her front door. If not, then she might have to think about  shagging Adam MacLean in the street. Ugh, joke! Matthew was an  intelligent guy, intellectually if not emotionally, and he could put two  and two together – and, with any luck, make five in this case. There must  have been a few questions floating around in his brain by now, surely?

Knock knock knock, It was quite a soft knock for him. Considerate that  Danny was in bed, maybe? Yeah, right! She wasn't ready to give him any  benefits of any doubts yet; he had hardly earned the privilege. Stevie  crossed to the door and opened it to a huge bouquet of flowers, which  quite took her breath away.

‘Hi,' said a porridge-rich voice from behind a big pink rose.

‘Oh hello,' said Stevie. God, they were beautiful, expensive. If a lover  had genuinely given these, she would have fainted. Then recovered to  bonk him five seconds later, which obviously was not going to happen in  this case. Not without a frontal lobotomy anyway.

‘Can you see anything across the street?'

‘No,' said Stevie. ‘Their cars are there but there's no sign that they're in.'