Talk to Me

by Jules Wake

  With holdall in hand and ready to make a speedy exit, I wasn’t surprised to see Daniel comfortably ensconced at the kitchen table chatting away to Mum. He was the only person who ever expressed an interest in her pottery. Too polite for his own good.

  ‘Go on, take it, Daniel,’ she was saying, pressing one of her misshapen bowls into his hand.

  ‘Sure?’ he asked, turning it around in his hands stroking the glaze.

  I rolled my eyes. What a mug. Mum caught me.

  ‘It’s not as if any of my family appreciates my work,’ she said huffily.

  ‘Sorry, Mum. It’s lovely. We’re in a hurry.’

  ‘Fine. I’ll just wrap it up for you, Daniel.’ She flounced off to the utility room and I could hear lots of rustling.

  ‘Creep,’ I hissed at Daniel.

  ‘What?’ He looked amused. ‘I like it.’

  ‘You don’t. You’re just sucking up. You’re as bad as Bill. He was here the other night schmoozing the parents. They won’t put a good word in for you.’

  ‘Don’t you believe it? Anyway you have to check out the mothers, see what you’re getting yourself into.’

  He’d had a lucky escape with Emily then.

  ‘Aha, here you go.’ Mum reappeared with a newspaper parcel. ‘Don’t drop it. Before you go, do you want some leftovers …’

  Daniel and I spoke simultaneously.

  ‘Great,’ he said. Typical man, thinking with his stomach.

  ‘No, we need to …’

  Mum arched an eyebrow.

  ‘OK, then,’ I said heavily, giving in.

  When we finally left we were loaded up with little tinfoil packets of cold sausages, chicken thighs and three plastic bowls of rice salad, couscous and cold pesto pasta. Mum has a Tupperware mountain with the right sized boxes and tubs for every occasion.

  While she’d been preparing this, I’d phoned Emily for the third time since watching the video. Still no answer. I’d tried on the landline in the flat and on her mobile. Where was she? What if she was in the flat and Peter had let himself in? Closing my eyes I tried to shut out the image of him creeping up the stairs, while she, unsuspecting, with the radio on, never heard a thing. Then him holding her from behind, his hand over her mouth, while the phone rang and rang.

  The traffic on the M4 was very heavy and slow going. Daniel could see Olivia’s foot was pressed against the floor on the passenger side as if that would speed their journey up.

  ‘Olivia,’ he said, rubbing her thigh, his hand entwined with hers. He kept his eyes on the road, intent on the cars ahead. ‘That’s the third heavy sigh in as many seconds. I know you. Spit it out.’

  She sighed again and he nudged her thigh again.

  ‘Sorry.’

  ‘And stop staying sorry.’

  ‘So—’ She stopped herself. ‘What are we going to tell her?’

  He risked a quick glance at her to see her tugging at her lip with her teeth.

  ‘It’s simple. The truth.’ It sounded harsh but it was what Emily deserved. ‘I tell her it’s over.’ It galled him that she’d lied to him … and that he’d been taken in by her. ‘The rest of it, well, that’s down to you. You decide what you want me to do. It’s obviously going to be awkward for you if I tell her that I’m finishing with her because … of you. Especially as you work with her as well.’

  ‘That’s an understatement. She already hates me.’

  Olivia then relayed to him what had been going on at work and the vindictive resignation letter. He really had underestimated Emily.

  ‘Bloody hell. I suppose it’s one less thing for us to worry about.’

  ‘Mmm,’ said Olivia, and he could tell she was brooding.

  ‘What’s wrong?’

  ‘It’s just so ironic. So much for all my principles. After Mike I vowed I’d never put up with any deceit or lies … but I don’t know if I can do this. If we tell Emily about us …’ she sighed. ‘Life is going to be hell … and you haven’t seen Emily in all her full bitch glory.’ She squeezed his hand. ‘Do you know what … it would be so much easier in the short term, if we kept it a secret?’ She threw her head back against the headrest. ‘And I can’t believe I’m saying that.’

  ‘It’s completely up to you. You’re the one that’s got to live with her and work with her.’

  ‘God, it was bad enough when I told her that I’d got the job on the beauty team … can you imagine what it’s going to be like if I tell her I’ve nicked her boyfriend as well.’

  He grinned. ‘You haven’t nicked me. I just changed my mind about her.’

  ‘It goes against the grain …’

  He nudged her hard. ‘Your lip’s starting to bleed, stop chewing.’

  She wiped a smear of blood from her lip and gazed down at it. ‘Shit. It’s going to be a lot easier if we take it slowly and not dive in and announce to Emily that …’ she faltered.

  ‘We’re together and you’re my … girlfriend,’ he said sternly, enjoying the shocked surprise on her face. ‘Besides, I don’t think she’ll be too surprised, actually. I’ve been deliberately cooling off,’ he said, looking over his right shoulder as he pulled out into the fast lane.

  ‘Cooling off,’ she said indignantly.

  ‘What? Apart from the premiere, when I saw more of you – a lot more of you – I’ve barely seen her.’

  Colour flared in Olivia’s cheeks.

  He took his eyes of the road for a second and winked. ‘That striptease was nice, very nice. Are you going to do it again for me?’

  ‘Daniel, going to see Phantom of the Opera, dinner at Yo! Sushi and cocktails at Mint Leaf hardly qualifies as cooling off,’ she challenged.

  ‘What?’ His hands gripped the steering wheel and he risked a longer look at her. ‘Musicals and sushi? Do me a favour?’

  ‘Not you? So who has Emily been talking to on the phone? I heard her arranging theatre trips and dinner dates?’

  ‘Not me.’

  ‘No cocktails?’

  ‘Nope,’ he replied, his lip curling derisively. ‘Definitely not.’

  ‘I don’t understand.’

  Suddenly she straightened but didn’t say anything. He could almost see her brain furiously ticking over.

  ‘So what did happen at Ben’s party?’ Her words were flat.

  ‘I blew it big time at your brother’s party.’

  ‘Tell me about it. I spent all evening chatting you up. Disappear for two minutes. Come back and you’ve got your tongue down Emily’s throat.’

  He winced at the disgust in her voice. ‘It wasn’t like that,’ he protested.

  She scowled and snorted.

  ‘Emily made the first move.’

  ‘What? And you couldn’t fight her off?’

  She had a point. ‘Sorry, Olivia. I’m a guy, we do guy things. She was coming on to me, seriously flirty and well … she’s easy on the eye and …’

  She rolled her eyes.

  Bugger it he might as well be totally honest with her. ‘I was pissed off with you.’

  ‘Me?’ she squeaked indignantly. ‘Why?’

  ‘You’d been leading me up the garden path all night. Like a trained puppy on a lead. So close and yet so far. I thought we were finally going to get it together this time—’

  ‘This time?’

  He risked a glance at her. ‘You don’t remember, you’d had a few too many, but we kissed one night.’ He winced. ‘I took advantage of you but I’d fancied you for ages and you kissed me back.’ She’d done more than kiss but he didn’t think it would be gentlemanly to remind her of that.

  ‘Actually I did remember but I was too embarrassed to admit it. I’d thrown myself at you and you were just being nice.’

  ‘Nice!’ He took hi
s foot off the accelerator for a second, hastily replacing it as the engine whined in protest. ‘Olivia, there was nothing nice about that kiss. If you hadn’t been drunk … well, who knows where it would have ended.’

  ‘Oh,’ she said in a small voice that immediately lit a spark of satisfaction low in his belly.

  ‘I’ve had a lot of time to think about that kiss over the years and then when I think we’re going to get it together, I’m suddenly confronted with the news you’re having an affair with a married man. I felt a right fool. Suddenly there was Emily, green light flashing, looking at me like I was Brad Pitt, James Dean and James Bond rolled into one. When she started kissing me and you showed up, I … you know …’

  Now he’d blown it, maybe there was being too honest.

  She stared at him, comprehension dawning. ‘You were trying to make me jealous.’

  He flashed her a grin. ‘I had no idea that Emily was—’

  ‘So, how come you carried on seeing her?’

  He squirmed in his seat, not really wanting to answer but there’d been so much misinformation between them he wanted to get everything out in the open. God knows over the last couple of years their timing had been out of sync. Looking back, he could see he’d fancied Olivia forever and a day. It really was now or never and he didn’t want to screw it up this time. ‘OK. We ended up in bed together. I’m not a total bastard.’ Surely that would count for something in his favour. ‘I had to see her after that and let’s face it, you were otherwise engaged. There was nothing to lose.’

  She didn’t look impressed. ‘So you just kept seeing her. What? Because it was convenient?’

  You didn’t need a degree in body language to determine her mood from the arms firmly crossed over her chest.

  ‘Don’t be like that. It was a mistake. Anyway part of it was your fault—’

  ‘How do you figure that?’ she spat.

  God, this wasn’t going well. How did he explain? He thought the boat had sailed so he made do with second best. Telling her it was the practical option wasn’t particularly romantic.

  ‘Going out with Emily was a good excuse to keep seeing you and find out how serious it was with this other guy.’

  ‘Really?’ She stared thoughtfully out of the window, watching the woman in her hatchback next to them singing away to her music.

  All the revelations of the last few hours had made him realise just how often he’d invented reasons to visit the flat. He was impressed by how devious his subconscious had been. He had been a very regular visitor.

  Now it all seemed so obvious. OK, one kiss didn’t make a lifelong commitment but he couldn’t imagine life without Olivia.

  They didn’t talk for a little while.

  ‘You could move out …’ he suggested, breaking the silence.

  ‘Where to,’ she said gloomily. ‘It’s my bloody flat.’

  Even before he said it he wondered if it was a risk, if it was too soon to say it but hell they’d wasted so much time over the last few years. ‘To my place.’

  She looked at him, her mouth dropping open into a shocked ‘o’. Then she dropped her head and muttered, ‘I can’t.’

  ‘Why not?’ Now he’d said it, it was so obviously the right thing to do.

  ‘Because …’ she stopped. ‘Besides, it’s too soon.’

  ‘Too soon for what? You can’t stay with Emily. It’s the obvious solution. Anyway I want you there. Safe. With me.’

  ‘Are you sure?’ Her voice sounded choked and out of the corner of his eye he caught her blinking furiously, and then in a typical Olivia move, she lightened the moment by saying, ‘How do you know I’m not moving in just for that gorgeous kitchen? You know I’ve got oven envy.’

  He smiled. ‘Sweetheart, if you know how to drive it, you’re welcome to it.’

  As they came off the motorway into the heavy London traffic both of them went quiet. The prospect of facing Emily weighed heavily on him and he couldn’t imagine how Olivia felt. The lies, that letter and the two of them having to pretend. No, he definitely wasn’t looking forward to that bit.

  Olivia tried to call Emily again, but her phone still kept switching to voicemail. Where was she was? Why didn’t she answer? Maybe she couldn’t.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Turning the key in the lock, I stopped reluctantly in the doorway, not wanting to go in, even though Daniel was right behind me. His hand was clasped over mine on the key in the door.

  ‘I’ll go first?’ he whispered.

  Following him, I bent to pick up my bag, listening intently.

  ‘Hellooo,’ I called out, with only a tiny quaver in my voice. Having six foot plus of lean muscle and warm body with me was very reassuring.

  ‘Emily – are you home?’ Nothing. Just silence.

  Daniel took the steps two at a time. ‘Emily, are you in?’ he called more forcefully.

  Following closely, my heart was bumping uncomfortably at the same time it was expanding with pride. My hero. My very own Clark Kent. He got to the top step, which opened into the lounge. It was cold and unlit; as if no one had been here for a little while.

  An empty mug was on the floor beside Friday’s Evening Standard along with a plate of congealing beans, a pair of boots, and two different shoes. Assorted clothes, jewellery and magazines were scattered around the room while the coffee table was strewn with empty crisp packets, biscuit crumbs and two discarded yoghurt pots.

  ‘Has there been a struggle here?’ said Daniel, bending down and picking up one of the shoes.

  ‘No, Daniel. This is standard.’

  ‘Really?’ He seemed surprised.

  Of course Emily had made sure she’d kept her inner slob hidden whenever he came round.

  ‘I don’t think anyone’s here,’ he said, lowering his voice. ‘I’ll check the bedrooms.’

  He looked into Emily’s room, then mine. ‘Clear,’ he said, with a more confident smile.

  ‘You sound like you’re in an American cop drama or something.’

  ‘Just as long as I’m the good-looking one and not the short fat sidekick,’ he said swaggering by, heading towards the bathroom. We were on a roll until he hit the kitchen. When I heard a muttered, ‘Shit’, I rushed in, fearing the worst, expecting to see Emily’s bloodied and bruised body spreadeagled across the floor with spatters of red up the walls. Too much watching of CSI.

  I collided with Daniel as he was retreating backwards.

  ‘Oomph,’ I muttered into the back of his shirt. He turned, standing tall so I couldn’t see around him. My imagination carried on picturing a bloody body.

  ‘God, it stinks in here. The bin needs emptying.’

  My height decreased by three inches as the tension left my shoulders.

  The bin always needed emptying when I wasn’t around. Emily didn’t do dirty jobs. There was quite a pong; old curry cartons mixed with rotting teabags and something I couldn’t quite identify. Feeling pissed off that it was always me that had to do this, I crossed to the bin and quickly tied up the nearly overflowing black bag and dumped it outside the back door on the fire escape. I’d take it down the stairs later.

  Closing the door, I crossed the floor, brushing past him deliberately to savour the bodily contact as I flicked on the kettle. He caught my arm and deliberately pulled me towards him.

  ‘God, woman, this is going to be torture.’

  I grinned wickedly up at him. Teasingly I reached up, putting my hand to the back of his neck and pulled his head down to mine.

  ‘You’re just going to have to grin and bear it,’ I breathed at the corner of his mouth, stealing a quick kiss. He turned and caught my lips, turning it into a kiss of the slow lingering type. My insides quivered and when he finally lifted his head, I was left wanting more. He returned my grin with an equally n
aughty one of his own.

  ‘And you’re going to have to behave.’

  ‘Not fair,’ I said ruefully. ‘Bromide in the tea, I think.’

  ‘You started it,’ he said calmly, leaning back against the cupboards, arms folded looking smug.

  I couldn’t resist a quick sneaky glance to see if he was as affected as I was. He lifted a brow. Oops not as surreptitious as I’d thought. I blushed bright red as he smirked and my stomach dropped into freefall.

  All this touchy feely, shivery, quivery stuff was very well but it was a long while since I’d been to bed with someone. I didn’t have to calculate exactly how long – it was months in double digits. The thought of feeling all the hard and soft bits of his naked body up against mine had set my nerve ends tingling.

  Daniel had a knowing look on his face. I could have sworn he knew exactly what was going through my head.

  ‘You would be so bad at poker, sweetheart.’ He grinned. I pretended to hit him, and of course he grabbed my wrist, pulling me towards him. When we finally broke apart, I insisted he should go and sit in the lounge so that I could concentrate on making him a cup of tea.

  ‘But can you nip out and grab a pint of milk first?’ It was pointless looking in the fridge; the last bottle had been finished on Friday morning. There was no way Emily would have bought any since.

  While he was out, I made the tea, then quickly unpacked my bag, putting everything away, before giving my bedroom the quick once over. Just in case.

  Opening the Yellow Pages, I sat down on the opposite sofa facing Daniel who having returned with the milk, had plonked it straight down on the table in front of us. I kept my distance because I was keen to avoid the scenario where we sprang apart like scalded cats the minute we heard Emily’s key in the door.

  ‘Blimey, it’s big business locksmithery. There are loads listed.’ I thumbed through. ‘Police registered, contracted … that sounds good.’ Daniel opened milk and poured it into the tea.

  ‘Get a few quotes. They’re bound to charge extra on Sunday.’