Almost home by now, he stopped at the corner and stared down the road towards his house. If he went in without the money Amy would go off her nut and they would end up having another barney – and he would end up walking out again. It was as inevitable as night following day, and the only way to avoid it was by not going home in the first place.
Decided, he did an abrupt about-turn and strode off in the opposite direction.
Jenny hadn’t felt well when she woke that morning, so she’d stayed in bed and had spent the day watching TV, reading magazines, and generally feeling sorry for herself.
Restless after her soaps had finished in the evening, she got up and had a bath, then wandered into the kitchen to make herself a sandwich. She was just making her way back to bed when the doorbell rang. Cautious, because she didn’t usually get visitors at night, she crept down the stairs and peeked through the spyhole. A man was standing on the step, but he had his back turned so she couldn’t see his face.
‘Who is it?’ she called through the wood.
‘Er, hi . . . it’s me – Mark.’ He turned and looked at the spyhole. When she didn’t respond after a few seconds, he frowned. ‘Sorry, is this a bad time?’
‘No, it’s fine!’ Jenny blurted out, snapping out of the trance she’d gone into at the unexpected sight of his face. ‘Just a sec. I’ll get the key.’
She fled back up the stairs, tugging the towel off her hair on the way. In the bedroom she dropped her dressing gown and quickly pulled on a pair of jeans and a jumper. Then, running the brush through her damp hair and slicking a quick coat of mascara over her ginger eyelashes, she grabbed her keys and ran back down.
‘Sorry about that. I wasn’t expecting anyone, so I’d already locked up for the night.’
‘Don’t worry about it.’ Mark stuffed his hands into his pockets. ‘I was just passing and remembered you said you’d moved here, so I thought I’d call in and make sure you’re okay.’
‘Thank you, that’s so nice,’ Jenny murmured, touched that he cared. ‘Do you want to come in?’
‘If I’m not disturbing you?’
‘No, course not.’
Jenny went up the stairs ahead of him and switched on the lamp and the TV before drawing the curtains to conceal the urn containing her mother’s ashes.
‘I’ll put the kettle on,’ she twittered nervously. ‘Tea or coffee?’
‘Whatever you’re having.’ Mark perched on the edge of one of the two black leather couches.
‘Sugar?’
‘Two, please.’
Left alone when she rushed off to the kitchen, Mark sat back and looked around. The room was surprisingly well furnished, with a fancy fireplace, a massive mirror, and a decent-sized plasma TV. There were only two pictures on the wall, one of a woman who Mark assumed to be Jenny’s mum, the other of Jenny herself – but as she looked now, he noticed; no trace of the ginger freak he’d known and taken the piss out of at school.
Amused by her attempt to rewrite history, Mark reached for the TV remote and flicked idly through the channels. When Jenny came back a few minutes later with two steaming cups in her hands, he smiled up at her. ‘This couch is well comfy. I’d have been asleep if you’d been much longer.’
‘I know, it’s lovely, isn’t it?’ Jenny agreed, passing his cup to him and taking a seat on the other couch. ‘The bereavement counsellor advised me to get rid of some of the old stuff so I wouldn’t be constantly reminded of my mum.’
‘Did it help?’
‘Oh, yeah, loads.’
Mark took a sip of his tea and gazed around again. Never mind getting rid of some of the old stuff, she’d obviously chucked the whole lot out and started from scratch. And that would have cost a fair bit, because these couches weren’t cheap, so either she had a well-paid job or she’d inherited a bundle. Either way, she was beginning to look more attractive by the second.
Annoyed when Steve’s phone went to voicemail, Amy slammed the phone down and paced the living-room floor. Mark still hadn’t come back, and while she wouldn’t usually be bothered, because he always went awol after a row, this time she was fuming. He knew that the kids hadn’t eaten, and he’d promised to borrow some money so she could get them something from the chippy. She wouldn’t even have cared if he’d posted it through the letter box and pissed off again, just so long as they got fed. But, as per usual, he was putting his own selfish needs before theirs. And now he’d switched his phone off and none of his friends claimed to have seen him, so there was nothing else she could do.
She turned around and abruptly stopped pacing when she saw her daughter standing in the doorway. ‘What’s the matter, love?’
‘I can’t get to sleep,’ said Cassie, a wobble in her voice, dark shadows circling her sad blue eyes. ‘Bobby’s crying. He says his tummy’s poorly.’
Amy felt like crying, too. But that wasn’t going to put food in their stomachs. So, making a decision, she said, ‘Go and get your coat on. And put Bobby’s on him for me.’
‘Are we going out?’ Cassie asked.
‘I hope so,’ Amy murmured, shooing her back out into the hall before reaching for the phone.
Sonia Clark was lying on the couch in her nightdress, watching reruns of Only Fools And Horses and snacking on cheese and crackers. John was at the pub, and she was thoroughly enjoying not having to sit through another football or snooker match – just about all the boring bugger ever wanted to watch these days. When the phone rang, she brushed the crumbs off her chest and reached over her shoulder to pick it up.
‘Hello?’
‘It’s me,’ said Amy. ‘Just checking you’re in.’
‘Why?’ Sonia frowned. ‘I hope you’re not thinking of coming round, ’cos I’m already in bed,’ she lied.
‘Oh. Sorry. Didn’t mean to disturb you.’
Sonia caught the unhappiness in her daughter’s voice and sighed. ‘What you after?’
‘Nothing,’ Amy muttered. ‘It doesn’t matter.’
‘Well, it obviously does, or you wouldn’t be ringing.’ Sonia reached for the remote and paused her programme. ‘Come on, spit it out. And it’d best not be money, ’cos you haven’t paid me back from the last time yet and your dad’s already giving me flak over it.’
‘I don’t want money,’ said Amy plaintively. ‘I just need something for the kids to eat. There’s nothing in, and our Bobby’s crying. Can I bring them round?’
‘You’re having a laugh,’ Sonia said coolly. ‘Have you seen the time? And you’re gonna drag them kiddies all the way over here in the cold?’
‘I wouldn’t if I wasn’t desperate,’ Amy replied, a sob betraying the fact that she was crying now. ‘Oh, just forget it,’ she said before her mum could respond. ‘I’ll wait for Marnie to come home and ask her.’
‘And what time will that be?’ Sonia demanded. ‘It could be four in the morning, knowing her, and you’d have had them kids sat there starving all that time.’
‘Don’t you think I know that?’ Amy wailed. ‘That’s why I rang you, ’cos you’re their nan and I thought you cared. But you’re in bed, so don’t worry about it.’
‘Stop being such a drama queen,’ Sonia berated her. ‘Fetch them round. But don’t you dare make them walk. Get a taxi. I’ll pay when you get here.’
‘Thanks, Mum. I’m really sorry. It’s just been a difficult week.’
‘It always is with you. And that’s half the trouble – you never learn.’
Sonia dropped the receiver back onto its cradle and slammed her plate down. Peace shattered, she shoved her feet into her slippers and shuffled into the kitchen to take some fish fingers and chips out of the freezer. Putting them on to cook, she looked for her purse, then went out onto the step to wait.
This was the first time Amy had brought the kids round so late, but it certainly wasn’t the first time she’d relied on Sonia to fill their little bellies. Everyone knew it was hard to feed a family in this day and age, and Sonia knew it wasn’t Amy’s fau
lt that the DSS was messing her about and her benefits hadn’t come through yet. But Amy couldn’t keep expecting Sonia and John to cough up willy-nilly. It was the fault of that useless husband of hers, all this, and it was about time Amy stopped making excuses for him and gave him a kick up the arse.
When the taxi pulled up outside her parents’ house ten minutes later, Amy guiltily dipped her gaze when her mother stepped forward to pay the driver.
‘Sorry,’ she mumbled, herding the kids inside and taking Bobby’s coat off while Cassie shed her own. ‘If there’d been any other way, I’d have—’
‘I don’t want to hear it,’ Sonia cut her off, shoving her purse into her dressing-gown pocket and marching into the kitchen. Coming back with two plates of food, she handed them to the kids, telling Amy, ‘I didn’t make you any, but you can get yourself a butty if you’re hungry.’
‘I’d rather go home, if you don’t mind,’ Amy said quietly. ‘Mark’s gone walkabout, and I want to be there when he gets back.’
Sonia gave her a scathing look. ‘I never thought I’d raised an idiot but I’m seriously starting to wonder about you.’
Amy flashed a cautious glance at the kids. ‘Please don’t start, Mum. I’m not stupid, but he’s my husband. What am I supposed to do . . . kick him out ’cos he can’t find another job? He’s been trying, but it’s not that easy these days.’
‘There you go again, making excuses for him.’ Sonia sneered. ‘I wouldn’t even mind if you knew where he was, but you haven’t got a clue, have you? He could be up to all sorts, for all you know. What if he’s cheating on you – have you even thought about that?’
‘I’m going,’ said Amy desperate to get out of there. She leaned down and kissed the kids. ‘Be good for Nana, and I’ll see you in the morning.’ Then, thanking her mum again, she rushed out and set off on the long, cold walk home.
6
Mark woke to the delicious scent of fried bacon.
‘What time is it?’ he asked, sitting up when Jenny put the tray she was carrying on the bedside table.
‘Half-ten,’ she told him, taking a cup of tea off the tray and walking around to the other side of the bed.
‘At night?’ Mark’s eyes swivelled towards the curtains.
‘No, morning. I would have woken you earlier, but you looked so comfortable I didn’t want to disturb you.’
Mark groaned, shoved the quilt off and looked around for his clothes. He couldn’t remember coming into her bedroom last night, never mind getting undressed. After the tea Jenny had cracked open a bottle of Scotch, and the last thing he remembered was her giving him a blow job. And he could only imagine that it had been a belter for everything that had come after it to be erased. But, good or not, nothing was worth the grief he was going to get off Amy when she got her hands on him.
‘You might as well eat your butty before you go,’ said Jenny, hoping to keep him a little while longer. She’d slept with a couple of lads in the years since their first encounter, but none had ever matched up to Mark. And she had never spent a full night with any of them, so it had been absolutely magical to wake up beside him this morning.
Mark shook his head. He didn’t even want to speak to her just now, never mind eat the flaming butty.
‘You’re not angry with me, are you?’ she asked. ‘I did try to wake you, but you were completely out of it. Hope I haven’t got you into trouble.’
With his back turned towards Jenny, Mark heard the threat of tears in her voice and rolled his eyes. Why did women always turn on the waterworks when you were trying to get away from them?
‘Look, don’t worry about it,’ he muttered, pulling his socks on. ‘I’ll sort it.’
‘How?’ Jenny wanted to know. ‘Where will you say you’ve been?’
‘Steve’s. That’s where I usually go, so she’ll believe me. Just hope she hasn’t spoken to him already.’
‘Maybe you’d best ring him and check?’
‘I’ll call in on the way home,’ Mark said, zipping his fly. ‘I was supposed to be going round there today, anyway.’
Jenny hugged her knees and watched as he hurriedly pulled on the rest of his clothes. She didn’t want him to leave but she was in no position to ask him to stay. Not yet, anyway.
When he was ready, Mark gave her an awkward smile. ‘Right, well, I’ll, er, see you, then.’
‘Okay.’ Jenny smiled back. ‘See you.’
Already at the door, Mark hesitated. He’d borrowed one hundred quid off her before the Scotch had come out last night, and he had fully expected her to use the loan to try and force him into some kind of relationship. By rights, she ought to be grateful that he’d shagged her in the first place, considering that he was cool and she was a ginger freak – albeit brunette now, and not really all that freaky any more. But she didn’t seem to care that he was leaving, and he couldn’t help but wonder why. Embarrassed when it suddenly occurred to him that he might have performed badly, he gave her a quick nod goodbye and fled.
Jenny stayed where she was until she heard the front door click shut behind him, then ran to the window and watched as he walked away. She felt physically sick at the thought of him going home to Amy. The bitch would probably make him grovel, and then they would probably end up in bed having great make-up sex.
Unable to bear the thought, she shook it out of her head and climbed back into bed. She had loved Mark since the first time she’d ever laid eyes on him, but she’d never dreamed she stood a chance with him, because boys like him didn’t go for girls like her, they went for girls like Amy . . . pretty, popular Amy, with her perfect blonde hair and her sickening self-confidence. That was why she’d been so shocked when Mark had taken her down the alley on his wedding night – and even more so when he’d called round later that same night to pick up where they had left off. When he’d told her that he wouldn’t be coming back, she’d refused to believe that it was over and had started hanging around at the corner of his mum’s road in the hopes of catching him on his own. But Amy and that stupid baby of theirs had always been with him whenever he came out, so she hadn’t been able to approach him. And then they had moved into their own place, and Jenny hadn’t known any of his friends well enough to ask for the address without raising suspicion, so she’d been forced to give up and accept that she had lost him.
But now, beyond her wildest dreams, he was back in her life. And this time Jenny was determined to make sure that he stayed.
Mark got no answer when he knocked on Steve’s door a short time later. Assuming that he and his new bird were still in bed, Mark switched his mobile back on and rang him.
‘Shit, man, I’m sorry,’ Steve apologised. ‘I totally forgot you were coming round. I’m in town with Layla.’
‘Oh, cheers,’ Mark muttered, miffed that his friend had so easily forgotten him when they had only just made up after their argument. Showed how much he cared.
‘Look, the match starts at five, so why don’t you come round then?’ Steve suggested. ‘I’ll get those beers and treat you to a takeaway. Oh, and sorry I didn’t answer your call last night, by the way.’
‘My call?’
‘Yeah, your name came up, but we were in the middle of dinner and I thought it’d be rude, so I switched my phone off.’
Mark guessed that it must have been Amy calling from the house phone, and said a silent thank-you to God that she hadn’t got through.
‘Couldn’t do us a massive favour, could you?’ he asked. ‘Only me and Amy had a bust-up last night and I didn’t go home. If she asks, can you tell her I stopped at yours?’
‘Oh, mate,’ Steve groaned. ‘I’m a shit liar. She’ll know as soon as I open my mouth.’
‘Please,’ Mark pleaded. ‘She probably won’t ask, but I just need to know you’re gonna back me up if she does.’
Steve went quiet for a moment. Then, sighing, he said, ‘Right, fine. But don’t ask me to do it again, ’cos I like Amy and I don’t want to get involved in whatever’s going
on.’
‘Nothing’s going on.’
‘So why don’t you just tell her where you really were instead of dropping me in it?’
‘It’s complicated,’ Mark said evasively. ‘Look, I’d best go. See you later. And cheers for that.’
Relieved to have an alibi, Mark sauntered out of the flats and set off for home with the money that Jenny had lent him weighing heavy in his pocket. Amy was doing her best, but he felt guilty every time she cried because she couldn’t afford to give the kids a treat, or go to the launderette, or put the lights or heating on. One hundred quid was all well and good, but how much happier would she be if he handed her two hundred . . . or three, or four?
As an excitement that he hadn’t felt in weeks began to stir in his gut, Mark turned on his heel and headed back to the bus stop. Lady Luck was an elusive lover, and only a fool would turn his back on her when she came a-calling. And whatever else he might be, Mark Taylor was no fool.
Amy woke up with a start and stared in dismay at the clock on the bedside table. It had been gone five a.m. before she’d finally fallen asleep, and it was almost noon now. Dreading the tongue-lashing she was bound to get off her mum, she jumped out of bed and ran downstairs to ring her.
‘I’m so sorry,’ she blurted out. ‘I know I promised to pick the kids up early, but I didn’t—’
‘No use saying sorry to me,’ Sonia cut her off. ‘I’m not the one who sat here all morning in tears waiting for you.’
‘Oh, God,’ Amy moaned guiltily. ‘Tell them I’m coming now. I just need to get dressed.’
‘Too late,’ said Sonia. ‘Poor little buggers deserved a treat, so your dad and Uncle Ricky took them to Chester Zoo for the day. I’ll ring you when they get back, but I’ll warn you now, your dad’s fuming. Cassie’s told us all about you and that waste of space arguing in front of them.’
Broke Page 6
