The Birds and the Bees(52)

As he heard the bedroom door open, Matthew knew that her back would be  waiting for him in bed and tonight, for the first time, he really didn't  care.



In his cold, echoey, four-bedroomed house that night, Adam started to  pack a suitcase. It was young Danny who had reminded him that there were  only two bedrooms in that house – something that Finch would know. If he  moved in, Finch would presume the obvious – Danny in one bed, he and  Stevie in the other. Their plan was working better than he could ever  have expected it to. He had seen how many times Matthew's eyes had  drifted over to Stevie at the barbecue. As for Jo, she was hurting; Adam  was definitely getting to her. He could tell that by the way she  sneered at him through the happy, party crowd, as if she was enjoying  the thought that he might be suffering. Like a wasp, Jo stung to kill  when she was threatened. Then he had witnessed how she'd treated the  boy. It had altered everything, seeing Danny try to cuddle her and Jo  shove him off as if he was something abhorrent. Something about the  events of that night had shifted all the pieces around in his heart.

Then he thought of how slowly Stevie's head had turned towards him when  he had made the suggestion that he move in with her to Humbleby. He  didn't think it was possible for anyone's eyes to open that wide without  popping out and detaching from their optical nerves. It was all he  could do not to burst out laughing, but he feared she would have whacked  him with the nearest Midnight Moon rubbish.

‘One last big push and I swear to you that if they haven't broken up in  seven days, I'll move out again. But I promise you they will have.'

‘Of course you're joking!' said Stevie breathlessly.

‘Naw,' said Adam. ‘I've never been more serious in my whole life.'

It was obviously against her better judgment but she had soundlessly and  slowly nodded her assent and continued drinking her coffee. Who would  have thought they would ever have had to resort to these measures?





Chapter 40




At 15 Blossom Lane, the next day was a very strained affair. Matthew  made Jo an early breakfast in bed as a peace-offering, although he  wasn't quite sure what he was apologizing for. He went out for a huge  stack of Sunday newspapers and settled himself on the dining-room table  as Jo went back to sleep. Was it his imagination or were there more debt  articles than ever in the supplements? How to manage your money? Should  I get a consolidating loan? How to stop spending …

His bowels started to cramp up as he read. He really could not afford,  in all senses of the word, to delay the money talk with Jo any longer,  so he wished she would hurry and wake up. She was still asleep when he  called up at lunchtime, so he slunk back downstairs and reached for  another newspaper with only a bacon sandwich and a bag of Cheesy Wotsits  for company.

He heard signs of her rising just after four and waited patiently,  chewing his nails, whilst sounds of the fully-turned-on bath taps  filtered downstairs. He was almost physically deformed with anxiety by  the time she came downstairs, an hour later. His heart sank as he saw  she was dressed to go out.

‘Are we going out for something to eat?' were her first words to him.

‘Now – say it now!' urged a voice in Matthew's head.

‘Er … Jo.' He took her hands and pulled her softly down on the sofa. ‘I  can't. I'm a bit broke at the moment. I'm sorry.' There, that was easy  enough!

‘Broke?' She looked confused. ‘What do you mean, "broke"?'

Matthew took the sort of breath one did before a bungee jump off the Grand Canyon.

‘The thing is, for a while … it would help if you could give me something  towards the household bills – you know, the mortgage and … stuff.'

She stared at him as if he had just grown a pair of horns. Then she  stood abruptly up. ‘You are fucking joking, I take it. Now, like I say,  are we going out or do I pack a bag and leave now?'

‘We'll go out,' he said.

‘I'll get my shoes,' she said.

Oh bollocks.



As Matthew was dreaming that night of a big Visa card with Colin Seed's  cardigan on chasing him around work, Adam's car was pulling quietly up  outside Humbleby Cottage. Danny was asleep in the big bed that his mum  would share with him for the next seven nights. Stevie would have  preferred to stay in the back room, but the front bedroom had a lock on  the door.                       
       
           



       

‘Hi,' she greeted Adam nervously.

‘Hi,' said Adam, bringing in a suitcase and a sports bag, which he dumped by the door.

‘I've put you in my room,' said Stevie a little awkwardly. He raised his  dark red eyebrows and she bristled in response. ‘I will, of course, be  sharing with Danny. I've told him you're having some decorators in and  are just lodging here for a while.'

‘Fine,' said Adam. ‘I'll no' confuse the boy.'

‘Good,' said Stevie.

‘I'd have taken the sofa. You didn't have to move out for me.'

‘I fell asleep on the sofa once after working late. Trust me, it's not at all comfortable even for someone my size, so … '

‘You never said what it is that you actually dae for work?'

‘Anyway, if you take your case up I'll put some coffee on,' said Stevie, ignoring him.

‘I'll take that as an "I'm no' telling you, so bugger aff".'

‘That's it in a nutshell, Mr MacLean. You know where your room is, of course.'

He laughed. ‘Yes, ma'am,' he said, and saluted and obeyed.

The room smelled of something sweet like wild strawberries swirled in  with the perfume she wore. He had noticed it on her at the  barbecue – light and floral and violety – so unlike the heady, exotic, spicy  scents that Jo preferred. Stevie had put fresh linen on the bed; lovely  cool cotton sheets. She had left big white fluffy towels folded neatly  on top of the duvet and she had cleared some wardrobe and drawer space  for him too. This was not a woman who lounged about all day watching TV  through a layer of dust, he thought, and wondered again what it was  exactly that she did do all day then. He could have asked Will but he  didn't want to cheat. He wanted to crack her secret himself. It amused  him to puzzle on it.

He came down to the beautiful smell of coffee hissing and spitting in angry protest through the percolator.

‘What sort is that one?' he asked, ‘It smells divine.'

‘Crème caramel,' she said. ‘Have you eaten?'

‘Don't worry yoursel'.'

‘We had a big chicken for lunch. There's plenty left, if you want a sandwich.'

‘Thanks, I might just do tha-'

‘I thought you might,' she said, putting down a substantial plate of  sandwiches in front of him, garnished with crisps and salady bits. ‘You  don't look like the sort of bloke who says no to food.'

‘Not unless you baked the bread yourself,' he said.

‘No, you're safe. It's from Morrison's.'

And then they watched a late-night murder mystery and munched chicken  sandwiches and chocolate digestives until bedtime, like an old married  couple who warred a lot.





Chapter 41




The first thing Matthew noticed as he opened the curtains the next  morning was Adam MacLean's car outside Stevie's cottage, and it didn't  take an idiot to work out that he had been there all night. He presumed  that's why Jo was extra-agitated and stomping and crashing about and in a  generally foul mood. They both knew there were only two bedrooms to  that house. Neither of them said a word about it but it was obviously on  their minds, and they were both cross that it was on the other's mind,  none of which helped to lift the mood of a day that had already been  spoilt by 7.30 a.m.

They journeyed to work in the same uncomfortable silence that had stood  like a concrete block between them the previous evening during dinner.

‘Look, please, can't we be friends?' Matthew said, pulling into the  work's car park. ‘I hate this atmosphere between us. I'm sorry about  mentioning the money and I don't care what's going on across the road.  Let them get on with their lives and let us get a sandwich at twelve and  go and sit in the park and talk.'

‘I'm going shopping,' said Jo, petulantly through a very dry pout.

‘I'll come with you,' he said, smiling at her. ‘Would you like that?'

‘No, Matthew, I wouldn't like that,' said Jo flatly. ‘Today I want some space. I've got things to do.'

‘I'll walk five paces behind you,' he tried to joke but she rounded on him fiercely.

‘For Christ's sake, stop stifling me!' And she leapt out of the car and  went into the building alone. He sat in shock because she had always led  him to believe that she liked to be made a heavy fuss of. Rather like a  spoilt, demanding Persian cat.



Matt waited for Jo in the foyer at the time when her lunch-hour was due  to end, hoping to catch her for a quick kiss-in-passing at least. He  wished so much that he could have turned the clock back and not  mentioned the money. He hoped it was that which was making her hostile  towards him and not the Adam and Stevie thing, which had taken up a big  unwelcome block of his own headspace, too, however much he was trying to  deny it. He had an appointment with his bank account manager fixed up  for the next afternoon, and had he waited for the outcome of it, he  might never have had to tell her that he had a few financial problems.  Then all he would have had to do was tell her one final lie – that his  investments weren't as great as he had been led to believe. How he was  going to break the news that they were approximately half a million  pounds light was a bit of a teaser though. He had got so carried away  exaggerating, trying to impress her. Oh God, what a mess!