by Jill Mansell
“…and we could do with a decent car,” he went on, waving dismissively in the direction of the window overlooking the main street. “The van’s OK for carting flowers around, but it’s hardly what you’d call stylish. How about a soft-top for next summer, sweetheart? Something with a bit of go in it?”
“Look.” Janey, unable to contain herself any longer, said evenly, “Oliver Cassidy left that money to my mother. Not to me, and not to you. I don’t know how you can even think you have any right to a share in it.”
“Janey, all I’m saying is that Thea is bound to want you to share her good fortune!” Alan looked hurt. “You need a vacation; you need a decent car. I’m just trying to advise you.” He paused, then broke into a grin. “And of course you’ll want to take somebody to Barbados with you, to rub all that sunscreen onto those gorgeous shoulders of yours…”
Her heart began to race. “Alan, I don’t want my mother to give me any money, and I’m not planning any vacation. But if someone came up to me in the street tomorrow and handed me two free tickets to Barbados, I wouldn’t take you anyway. I’d take Maxine.”
“You’re upset.” He nodded understandingly. “This funeral’s taken it out of you. Come on. You should be in bed.”
“I’m not upset.” Janey was starting to shake. “I just don’t want this to go on any longer. It isn’t working, Alan. You said we needed time to get used to each other again. Well, I’ve had enough time to know that it isn’t going to happen.”
He stared at her. As stunned, she realized, as if he had found her walking stark-naked down the main street.
“Sweetheart,” he protested finally, “what are you talking about?”
“Us.” The time had come to be brutal. She mustn’t allow him to wheedle his way around her. “This marriage. I don’t want to carry on. I don’t want to be married to you anymore. You told me I’d changed, and I have. I’m sorry, Alan, but that’s it. You’re going to have to find somewhere else to stay.”
And somebody else to support you, she thought wearily. Guy had been right; Alan was a user and a taker. She just hoped he had been right about the other matter too…
“I can’t believe I’m hearing this.” Alan was very still, his eyes narrowed, his voice scarily low.
I can’t believe I’m saying it, Janey thought, biting her lip and wishing he wouldn’t stare at her like that. But she had to stick to her guns.
“I mean it.”
“Good God, woman! I came back here because I couldn’t live without you! You welcomed me back with open arms… How can you change your mind just like that? What have I done that’s so terrible?”
“Nothing.” Janey fought to stay calm. “You haven’t done anything terrible. I don’t love you anymore, that’s all.”
But he was shaking his head. “No. No. It doesn’t work like that. I want the real reason.”
“OK, fine.” She held up her hand and began counting the real reasons off on her fingers. “You haven’t bothered to look for a job. You expect me to pay for everything. You endlessly take me for granted. You want my mother to give me money so you can spend it. And,” she concluded heavily, “you forgot my birthday.”
He blinked. “Any more?”
“Yes,” Janey snapped for the hell of it. “You snore.”
“I see.” Alan’s smile was bleak. “Oh yes, I definitely see. Your mother’s the one behind all this, isn’t she? That old bitch put you up to it. What did she do, threaten to cut you off without a penny if you didn’t dump me?”
“Don’t be ridiculous.” Enraged by his nastiness, yet at the same time almost welcoming it because it was so much easier to deal with than threats of suicide, Janey rounded on him. Her brown eyes blazed. “You’re the one who was so intent on getting your hands on that money! And no, Mum hasn’t so much as mentioned your name, so don’t even think she has anything to do with this. My mother has more important things on her mind than you just at the minute.” She paused, then added icily, “This is my decision. All my own work. And since I’ve already made up my mind, there’s no point in even trying to argue. As far as I’m concerned, the sooner you leave, the better.”
Alan’s shoulders slumped. The anger in his eyes faded, to be replaced by resignation. “So that’s it,” he murmured with infinite sadness. “It’s all over.”
Janey, scarcely daring to breathe, nodded.
“Oh well. It was always on the cards, I suppose. Stupid of me.” He shook his head. “I geared myself up to this before coming back, and now I have to get used to the idea all over again. Somehow it’s even harder, this time…”
Guy had been right, Janey reminded herself, gritting her teeth. It was emotional blackmail, pure and simple. Alan wouldn’t really do anything drastic.
“…like thinking you’re going to the electric chair, being reprieved, then being told that it was just a joke, you’re going to get it after all.”
“I’m not sending you to the electric chair,” she said quietly.
“Aren’t you?” He reached for her hand. “Janey, I love you. Where would I go, what kind of future do I have without you? What would be the point of anything?”
“Stop it.” Sick with fear that he might actually mean what he was saying, Janey prayed she was doing the right thing. “You mustn’t say that.”
“Why not? I’m thinking it. Jesus.” Alan sighed, squeezing her hand so hard she felt her fingers go numb. “I’ve thought of nothing else for the past two years. All I wanted was to be with you, Janey. God knows I’m not perfect… I’ve tried to get a job, but there just haven’t been any around. And I’m sorry about that. And I know I don’t always do the dishes, but it’s hardly a reason to end a marriage! Maybe I don’t deserve you,” he murmured brokenly, “but I do love you. Let me prove it, sweetheart. Give me one last chance and I’ll turn over a new leaf, I swear I will. I’ll make you happy.”
“No,” said Janey. “I told you, I’ve already made up my mind. I don’t care what you do from now on. I’m not responsible for you anymore. The answer’s still no.”
“You callous bitch.” Abruptly, he dropped her hand and pushed it away, his jaw set and a vein thudding in his cheek. “OK. If that’s what you want, I’ll go. But I hope you realize what you’re doing. You could end up regretting this, Janey. In a very big way indeed.”
• • •
Maxine, stretched out across Janey’s settee with her hands behind her head, wiggled her toes in time to the jingle advertising a new chocolate bar. Nobody was allowed to watch BBC anymore. Every time the commercials came on, her attention began to wander in anticipation. When the Babysoft commercial was shown, she stopped whatever she was doing in order to gaze, entranced, at herself on the television screen.
“Damn, the film’s starting again! Maybe it’ll be on in the next break. Now what was I saying…?”
“You were telling me to relax,” said Janey helpfully, “and to stop worrying about Alan.”
“Exactly. Look, kicking him out was the best thing you ever did. This should be the happiest time of your life, darling! You came to your senses, gave him the old heave-ho, and now you can start afresh. He’s out of your system,” she added forcefully. “You’re free at last! I can’t understand why you should even care what happens to him. When did that bastard ever show any consideration for you, after all?”
Janey hadn’t expected her sister to understand. When she had tried to relay her fears, Maxine had howled with laughter and said, “You should be so lucky.”
The trouble was, wanting to put the whole miserable affair behind her was easier said than done. How could she even begin to relax when every time the phone rang she leaped a mile, petrified it might be the police…the hospital…Alan himself, with a stomachful of pills?
It had been a week now since he’d left. He was staying with Jan and André Covel, sleeping on the living-room floor of their t
iny flat. Conditions, it appeared, were less than ideal; Jan wasn’t happy about the setup, he had grimly informed Janey when he had returned to pick up the last of his few possessions. Still, it was better than a sleeping bag on the beach. And it probably wouldn’t be for very long…
“You’re well rid of him,” Maxine declared, stretching out for the remote control and flipping over to Channel 4 in search of more commercials. “And think how nice it is to have the place to yourself again. Got any more chocolate Hobnobs, Janey, or was that the last packet?”
Janey couldn’t help smiling. Maxine, draped across the sofa like Cleopatra, waving an empty cookie wrapper and hogging the remote control, could almost be Alan. And since Bruno had started work at the Grand Rock ten days earlier—his shifts clashing cruelly with Maxine’s own precious time off—she had been turning up more and more often at the flat.
“Oh yes, it’s great, having the place to myself,” Janey said mildly. “And yes, we’re out of Hobnobs. What time does Bruno finish tonight?”
Maxine, busy emptying crumbs into the palm of her hand, looked gloomy. “When the last customer leaves. You wouldn’t believe how long some people can just sit there, nursing a lousy cup of coffee. I’m sure they do it out of spite.”
“But you two are still OK?” She couldn’t imagine how Maxine’s chaotic ways must be affecting Bruno.
“More than OK.” Maxine, having licked up the last of the crumbs, stretched luxuriously. “We’re talking blissful. It’s like being on a permanent honeymoon without the bother of being married…except he keeps wanting us to get married. Now will you look at that—one pink sock and one orange one. Why on earth didn’t I notice that before?”
“Are you going to marry him?” asked Janey curiously.
“I don’t know. We’ll see.” Maxine shrugged and flicked back her blond hair. “It’s going well, but I don’t see the point of rushing into anything drastic. It doesn’t do him any harm to keep him in suspense. Besides, who knows what might happen now that my career’s taking off? The last thing I need is to be tied down…”
And Alan called me a callous bitch, thought Janey, marveling at her sister’s laissez-faire attitude.
“So when he asks you to marry him and you refuse,” she said, deeply intrigued, “what does Bruno do?”
“What can he do?” Maxine countered with a casual shrug. “Apart from hope for better luck next time. Don’t get me wrong: I love him to death, but he’s hardly in a position to argue. My career comes first, and he knows that.” She hesitated, looking thoughtful. “Does that sound selfish?”
Janey, filled with admiration, said, “Yes.”
“Oh well.” Maxine broke into an unrepentant grin. “Never mind. A bit of suffering never hurt anyone, especially Bruno.”
Chapter Fifty-Four
The buildup to Christmas was starting. Business in the shop was brisk, and orders were already flooding in. Janey, thanking her lucky stars for ever-reliable Paula, was snowed under with requests for Christmas wreaths, table decorations, and pot-et-fleur arrangements. Mistletoe was going down a bomb with teenagers, whom she otherwise never saw from one year to the next.
Paula was out making the morning’s deliveries and Janey, armed with leather gloves and pruning shears, was battling her way through a mountain of holly when the shop door opened and a tall, dark-haired girl came in carrying a baby. The girl, elegantly attired in an expensive caramel leather jacket, black trousers, and low-heeled black-and-tan boots, sported a great deal of makeup and reeked of perfume. The baby, presumably a boy, was bundled up in a navy snowsuit and a blue-and-white striped beanie. Wisps of ash-blond hair were plastered to his forehead, and he had the most adorable blue eyes Janey had ever seen.
The girl, who looked to be in her midtwenties, seemed nervous. It was with some relief that Janey abandoned the holly and peeled off her gloves.
“Hi.” She waved at the little boy and smiled at his mother. “Can I help you?”
“Um…well, I hope so.” Long, heavily mascaraed eyelashes batted with agitation. Stalling for time, she glanced around at the hanging baskets strung from the ceiling. The baby, sensing inattention and seizing the moment, made a grab for a nearby trailing ivy frond. The terra-cotta pot from which it grew was dragged with an ominous grating sound from its shelf. The next moment, before anyone had a chance to move, it had crashed into a bucket of freesias, scattering leaves and compost over the tiled floor. Startled, the baby promptly let out an earsplitting wail.
“Oh no,” cried his mother. “Oh hell! I’m so sorry…”
“It doesn’t matter.” Gently, Janey disentangled the long tendril of ivy from the baby’s chubby, clenched fist. By some miracle, the terra-cotta pot hadn’t broken. There was a mess, but not an expensive mess.
“I’ll pay for the damage.” Shifting the baby from one hip to the other, the girl rummaged frantically in her shoulder bag for her purse. “I really am sorry. Are the freesias a write-off too?”
She was shaking, Janey noticed. Bending down, swiftly retrieving the pot from its resting place among the poor, battered freesias, she shook her head and smiled.
“It’s OK. They were on their last legs anyway. I was going to throw them out tonight. And look, the pot’s fine.” She held it up for inspection. “No problems, honestly. You don’t have to pay for anything.”
The baby had by this time stopped yelling. After regarding Janey for some seconds with solemn intensity, he broke into a sudden beaming grin.
“Oh God,” said the girl, still distressed. “You’re being so nice about this. It doesn’t make it any easier for me.”
“It was an accident,” Janey protested. “What were you expecting me to do, dial 999?”
“I don’t mean the pot.” She hesitated, flicking back her glossy dark hair. “It’s taken me weeks to pluck up the courage to come here…and I’m afraid you aren’t going to like the reason why.”
Janey frowned. “I don’t understand.”
“You are Mrs. Sinclair, aren’t you?” said the girl nervously, and Janey nodded again.
“Well, my name’s Anna Fox.” She waited, then shook her head. “I suppose that doesn’t ring any bells?”
The baby, apparently entranced by the gold buttons on Janey’s sweater, squealed with delight and made a futile grab for them.
“Sorry?” said Janey, puzzled.
“Oh dear, this is even more difficult than I thought.” Two spots of bright color appeared on the girl’s cheeks. “Look, it was Alan I really came to see. Your…um…husband. Maybe it would be easier if he explained.” She blinked rapidly. “Is he around at the moment?”
In less than a split second, it all became clear. Stunned, Janey clutched the counter for support. The baby, chuckling with delight, revealed two pearly teeth and vast amounts of pink gums. How curious, she thought irrelevantly, that such a grin could be so irresistible. Any adult with only two teeth in his head would never get away with it.
Anna Fox bit her lip, her dark eyes bright with a mixture of pride and regret. “I really am sorry,” she sighed. “I did say it wasn’t going to be easy. You must think I’m a complete bitch.”
The door swung open. Paula, like the cavalry, had arrived in the nick of time.
“Dear old Mrs. McKenzie-Smith burst into tears when I arrived with her bouquet,” she announced cheerfully. “It’s her golden wedding anniversary, and this is the first time her husband’s ever given her flowers. Hello, gorgeous,” she went on, wiggling stubby fingers at the wide-eyed baby. “Oh, I say, what a lovely smile! What’s your name then?”
“Good, you’re back,” said Janey hurriedly. “Paula, can you take over here? We’re going upstairs for a while…”
• • •
“His name’s Justin,” said Anna, fumbling with the zip as she struggled to get him out of his snowsuit. With a defensive glance in Janey’s direction, sh
e added, “He’s ten months old.”
Janey, who had switched the kettle on, was now leaning in the kitchen doorway while she waited for it to boil.
“Does he say anything yet?”
Anna pulled a face. “Only ‘Da.’”
“Da!” Justin exclaimed in delighted recognition. “Da da da. Da!”
“Ma,” prompted Anna, embarrassed, and he beamed.
“Mmm…Da!”
“This is crazy,” said Janey, giving up on the kettle and sitting down. “Here you are feeling sorry for me, and I’m feeling sorry for you. Look, Alan doesn’t live here. We aren’t…together anymore. I can’t say I’m not stunned by all this, but you haven’t upset me. In a weird kind of way, it’s the best news I’ve had in years.”
“Really?” Anna’s eyes promptly filled with tears as astonishment mingled with overwhelming relief. “Oh my goodness, I’m so glad…oh dear, now my mascara’s going to run.”
Janey passed her a box of tissues. The baby, half in and half out of his snowsuit, was wriggling like an eel.
“Here, let me take him,” she offered as Anna struggled to blow her nose and hold him on her lap at the same time. “You don’t have enough hands.”
“You really and truly don’t mind?” said Anna, sniffing loudly.
Janey smiled. “Of course not. I like babies.”
“I mean about me and Alan.” She bit her lip. “I still feel dreadful springing this on you.”
“I can’t tell you how glad I am that you did,” Janey assured her from the heart. “Listen, I kicked him out. He didn’t want to leave…” She hesitated, then shrugged and said simply, “Well, now I know I don’t have to feel guilty anymore. You can’t imagine what a relief that is.”
