Chapter 32
Stevie saw Adam twice in the next week, but only in passing. He nodded to her from a distance when she was on the lat pulldown in the gym and she nodded in return. Then he nodded again a couple of days later when she was leaving, and once again, she nodded back. It was like the birth of another language, because there was something in each nod that told the other person that no, they had nothing to report.
They hadn't instigated any more action. First, they wanted to see if the seeds they had planted had sprouted over the week. But eventually it looked as if they might have to re-open Parliament because the couple across the road continued to travel to work together each morning in perfect loved-up harmony, still walking the ten steps' distance from the front door to the car holding hands and making Stevie's stomach heave with jealousy and hurt. The pain seemed to get worse, not better.
On the seventh day since seeing Adam MacLean in the lane, the tension had actually started to leave Matthew's shoulders and he let himself finally believe that he was not suddenly going to be accosted by Jo's estranged husband, or his own ex-partner, because he still couldn't quite believe she had accepted the break-up with so little reaction. In fact, on one occasion he had actively encouraged her to make a move after seeing her buzzing near the kitchen window and so had darted straight out to deliver some post that had arrived for her. He knew she had seen him, and he knew for absolute definite that at the very moment when he reached the letterbox she would open the front door as if by total coincidence and force him to engage in conversation. However, no, he was wrong. Not a sausage.
He almost wished she would flip and start throwing things at him because he wanted to bring this to a head finally. He was certain she was up to something and it was driving him mad trying to work out what it could be. He had a theory but it was too ridiculous to take seriously.
The post was occupying a lot of his mind recently. Every day seemed to bring a new bill, a new demand, and his mortgage payment had bounced. He was perpetually on the brink of asking Jo to contribute financially, but how did you broach a subject like that with a woman who spent every lunchtime in Harvey Nichols? Especially after what he'd told her about his bank balance.
He decided to soften her up and went shopping in his lunch-hour and bought fillet steaks and champagne and raspberries, white chocolate, cream and cognac and accompanying nice-meal vegetables. Expensive, but he hoped it would be a worthwhile investment for him. He ran Jo a bath after work and told her to stay in there until he called her, then he brought her up a glass of chilled champagne and popped a truffle into her mouth and kissed the chocolate from her lips, and retired to the kitchen to work at a feast fit for the queen of his heart that she was.
She came down in her robe to find the table lit by candlelight and a beautiful romantic supper waiting for her. He topped up her glass, chinked his own to it, and said, ‘Cheers.'
‘What's all this for?' she said with surprised delight.
‘Because I love you,' he said, pulling out the chair for her, and tucking her under the table.
Then, after the main course, he served her raspberries soaked briefly in cognac resting in a cloud of cream whipped with the melted chocolate, with coffee to follow. Her eyes were full of heaven tasted. Matthew was a seductive cook. He just hoped he had been seductive enough. He led her to the sofa, snuggled, and caressed her.
‘Jo,' he said, then taking her hands between his, ‘I want you to divorce MacLean as soon as possible. I don't like the thought of you being married to him at all.'
She answered him by pressing her body hard against his and kissing him urgently. ‘He's not in the way.'
He squeezed her to him. ‘Serve MacLean his divorce papers, please.'
‘There's no point.'
He stopped kissing her neck and looked confused. ‘Why not?'
‘I'm not married to Adam.'
He pulled back from her. ‘What?'
‘I'm not married to him. Surely you knew?'
‘No,' he said, with a great sweeping puzzled inflection at the end of the word.
‘MacLean is my maiden name, pure coincidence. Common enough, though, I suppose, if your ancestors are Scots. We just lived together.' She snuggled into him once again. ‘So you see, he is out of my life totally; we have no bindings to each other.'
‘Oh, I see.' She hadn't mentioned it. He would have remembered that one. And hadn't she always referred to MacLean as ‘her husband'? ‘But don't you have any financial commitment to him? The house, for instance?' he asked cautiously, in case she realized why he was asking.
‘Alas no!' said Jo. ‘I didn't have any money to put towards the house when we lived together. Adam took everything I had – he was very clever. Told me he was "looking after it for me" and that was the last I saw of it. That's why it's so great to go out at lunchtimes and spend, spend, spend, and be with someone who looks after me for all the right reasons, who doesn't try and tell me what to do or take what I have.' And with that she kissed him with a fervour that threatened to pop his lungs like twin balloons landing in a patch of nettles.
‘Oh … er … great!' Matthew said, when he was eventully forced up for air, although his head was screaming, ‘Bugger bugger bugger … ' He had been counting on Jo's share of the divorce money. He had already spent a chunk of it in his head on a conservatory and a return trip to Majorca.
She raised her head and walked her long-nailed fingers saucily up his chest. ‘Anyway, why did you really want me to divorce him?'
‘Er … '
‘Because you want to marry me yourself, maybe?'
He took her lovely face in his hands. Well, it hadn't featured in his immediate plans but, seeing as she had come to mention it, yes, waking up to Jo MacLean for the rest of his life would be better than any Euromillions jackpot win. Well, almost. But he knew that he'd have to do better than a roast-beef dinner at the White Swan for her.
‘Jo, I would marry you tomorrow but I'm not asking you until I'm able to give you the wedding I know you'd want. Classic cars, morning suits, lobster for the wedding breakfast … '
Jo's head started to run with the theme: ‘Mmm, seven bridesmaids and pageboys. Red roses filling the church … '
‘No expense spared for you, my love,' he said. ‘So, alas, we'll have to wait.'
‘Your investments are due to mature soon though, surely – so you said.'
‘Ah yes … '
Which was not entirely a lie. An insurance policy his mum had set up for him was due to mature on his thirty-fifth birthday at Christmas. It would yield about five thousand pounds, but he had slightly exaggerated the figures to impress her at the early courting stage. Well more than slightly. Added two zeros at the end actually.
‘We could honeymoon in the Med. Cruise maybe? Italy, Sardinia, we could go back to Spain again, Oh Matthew, it will be wonderful!'
‘Jo, there's something … Ahhh!'
Her hand started to knead him there. He had to tell her the truth about himself tonight. There had been too many lies and deceptions and he wasn't really that kind of person. Her fingers were delicious and then he heard the rasp of his zip. Suddenly she was out of his arms and kissing a molten trail down his shirt.
‘Stop, please, Jo … oh!'
Mañana – as the locals had said so often in Majorca.
Chapter 33
The children broke up for a lovely sunny May half-term at the end of that week and Stevie took time off from writing about other people's love-lives to do nice things with her boy. They had a day at the seaside and the zoo, and she made a million egg and potted-beef sandwiches for a major picnic with Catherine and the kids in Higher Hoppleton Park. Then, on the Friday, Stevie and her son had a burger in town and mooched around trying to find a present to take to his friend Josh Parker's fifth birthday party the next day. She didn't really want to go, for more than one reason, but Catherine's little boy Gareth had been invited too and her friend was forcing her along. She said it would occupy her mind and stop her moping at home, and Josh was, after all, one of Danny's special friends. He was a lovely kid, and his mum, Jan, was very sweet. There was just one tiny problem, which stopped her socializing with the Parker family.