‘I only went to the loo. Please, Adam,' she said, without the customary pause before his name, ‘not today.' She wiped at her eyes with the flat of her hands; they were dripping out water like a pair of taps with faulty washers. ‘I don't care if you fight me for the rest of your life, but please, please, I beg you, not today.' Her throat failed on the last word and she turned away before she could make any more of a fool of herself in front of him, and melted back into the party room, grateful that it was so dark inside.
When the party was at last over, Stevie and Danny went down to Blockbusters and got out the Crocodile Dundee trilogy and a big bag of popcorn. They transformed the lounge of Humbleby Cottage into a cinema, closing the blinds and diverting the sound through the surround speakers. Then they snuggled up on the sofa with the popcorn and Cola. Really, it was a lovely hot day and it was a shame to be inside, but today, Stevie didn't want to see the sunshine. She didn't want to know that she would have been outside the church bathed in it now, having her photographs taken, laughing and being beautiful and throwing her bouquet. Neither did she want to think that tomorrow she and MacLean were going to tail the faithless exes in a hired anonymous car, like Starsky and Hutch, in a bid to win them back. Who was she kidding? Matthew and Jo hadn't taken their bait, it was useless. A tsunami of despair engulfed her and dragged away her last remaining hope with its massive ebb.
‘Are you okay, Mummy?' asked Danny, holding up a nub of popcorn near her lips.
‘I'm fine, love. I think I'm just getting a bit of a cold,' she sniffed.
‘You've got cry all over your cheek.' Danny's little hand came out to wipe away the escaping tears that threatened to flow so fast that she would be dissolved by them. It would have been so easy to collapse into them but she didn't want her little boy to see her as a weak, blubbering mess when she was supposed to be the strong one. Sometimes it was so hard to keep it together, though. Sometimes she just wanted to let go, surrender her power to someone else who would look after her, deal with things and make everything all right. But that was a luxury she was not afforded, so, with a monumental effort she managed to rein her tears in, just as there was a knock on the door. Oh no, no, no! She didn't want to see anyone. Maybe she could pretend she wasn't in. Boom boom boom. Whoever it was knocked again more insistently, and there was only one person who did knock like that. And she didn't want to see him more than she didn't want to see anyone else.
BOOM BOOM BOOM!
He'd break the damn door down if he carried on, the loud insensitive swine.
‘Stay there, pet, I'll be back in a minute,' Stevie said, closing the lounge door behind her before opening the outside one. If it was who she thought it was, Danny must not see him under any circumstances. Unfortunately for her, it was.
Adam MacLean was standing there on the doorstep in his smart work clothes: a white shirt and a blue tie with a WL motif on it.
‘Hellooo,' he said, sounding quite contrite for him. Jeez, she looks terrible, he thought.
‘Hello,' she said coldly, the bloodshot shining eyes betraying her air of composure.
‘I … er … came to say I'm sorry for sounding a wee bit aff.'
‘Oh right,' she said. He seemed a bit taken aback that she didn't seize on the opportunity to say that he'd never sounded anything other than ‘aff' and not thought to apologize for it before. There looked to be little fight left in her.
It was over.
‘Adam, this isn't working,' she started to say.
Then time stood still. The world stopped revolving for five seconds but it was just enough to allow her to catch her breath and decide how best to capitalize on this gift of a perfect moment. For there across the lane, Matthew Finch was perfectly framed in the window. He was looking at her. And Adam's car. And Adam himself. On her doorstep. Smart in a shirt and tie.
Now or never!
Stevie arranged her tired features into a smile that twisted as sexily as she could at one side, then she reached forward for Adam's tie, reeling him slowly in, and down, and then kissed him gently on the mouth.
Adam didn't resist. There was only one reason she had just done that and it wasn't because apologetic butt-ugly Scotsmen turned her on.
‘They're watching, aren't they?' he whispered loudly.
‘You don't think I'm doing this for fun, do you?' she confirmed through gritted teeth. He pushed her inside the house as if he was eager to get her alone for questionable reasons and they slammed the door together and stood behind it, each of them wiping at their lips with the back of their hands like three year olds that had experienced their first kiss and were thinking, I'm NEVER doing that again.
‘Aw this planning and the chance just falls into our laps,' said Adam, fighting back the desire to whoop around the kitchen. For one horrible moment there, he had nearly been in danger of hugging her.
‘I know, I know,' said Stevie quietly because her heart was pumping so fast it wasn't letting her breathe properly. Had she had more air in her lungs, she would have danced with him, leapt on him, hugged him, yes him. Then Danny appeared in the doorway with his collar sucked up into his mouth and freeze-framed because there was a giant in the room who looked like a ginger Mr Incredible. Far from being scarred for life at the sight of MacLean, Danny's only comment, after letting the soggy collar drop from his mouth was, ‘Hi.'
‘Hi there,' said Adam, waving awkwardly.
‘Who are you?'
‘Oh God!' began Stevie, but Adam dropped to his haunches.
‘I'm Well Life Man,' he said. ‘See?' And he showed off the letters on his tie. ‘I just dropped by on a mission to ask all people who work at home to come and be fit, but shhhh, you haven't seen me, okay? If anyone asks, I'm Adam MacLean. Like Superman is Clark Kent, understand?'
‘Cool!' said Danny, nodding. Yes, he knew exactly what he meant.
Well, he couldn't have picked a better persona than a Superhero to ingratiate himself with my son, Stevie thought. She was observing exploitation at its best. That's what his handle should have been: ‘Manipulatorman'.
‘Danny, go and watch Dundee and let me and Mr … Well Life talk about … er … having a coffee.'
‘Okay,' said Danny, grinning. Wow, a secret Superhero in the kitchen. Cool! ‘You're not going yet are you?'
‘No, I'll say goodbye before I go,' said Adam, waving again and raising his best ‘shushing' finger. Then, when Danny had gone, he crossed the window to steal a quick look across at Matthew's house.
‘He's still there,' he said, smiling over at Stevie, as if he was saying something suggestive instead. ‘Quick, come here.'
She came there as requested, but she didn't expect him to enclose her in a great big embrace and tip her back Hollywood snog-style.
‘Right, you can get off me now,' said Stevie eventually.
‘Bit longer, we're still being looked at.'
‘Both of them?'
‘Can't tell. I'll pretend to kiss you. Put your hands in my hair.'
He brought his cheek close to hers, she started stroking his hair. They would have looked magnificent in profile, very Gone with the Wind.
‘Right, he's moved away,' said Adam, letting her drop ungraciously to the floor.
‘Ow!'
‘Oops, sorry.' He extended a hand and helped her up.
‘There obviously isn't a word for chivalry in Gaelic then.'
‘Look, lady … ' He nipped off what he was going to say because he didn't want to add any more grief to her day. She had probably had enough of a bad one and he hadn't helped.
He had been at work checking on the CCTV camera when the little boy had been sick, then recognized the woman rushing towards him – the one with the ex-candy-floss hair. He had moved the camera around, aware that he was looking for her. Sure enough, there she was, sitting alone, out of the way. He focused in on her face, saw how unhappy she looked. Some dickhead was throwing balloons at her, insensitive to her annoyance, actually relishing in it. Adam got on with some work, then switched on again soon afterwards to find the dickhead was still annoying her. Then he had checked again later and saw her walk out of the function room. He watched the man dump his beer and follow her out and then, obviously in a professional vein, Adam had felt obliged to find out what was going on in person.