Things Jonathan wasn’t telling her? Well, that just really did take the biscuit, didn’t it? What on earth was wrong with the man? Shaking her head, Andrea turned to huff off, leaving David raking that hand through his hair, frustrated, obviously, that he hadn’t succeeded in totally rubbishing Jonathan in her eyes. Perhaps she should let David know that he didn’t need to expend quite so much energy on his efforts. Jonathan was already doing a perfectly good job of that for himself.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Finding Sally’s door on the latch, David knocked lightly and then, with some trepidation, went on in. Sally had said she was about to take a shower when he’d rung, so to make himself at home. Thinking that saying he’d rather not might be a little pointed, David had wasted some time doing a few household jobs and then came over. He just hoped she didn’t come downstairs dressed in the silk kimono affair.
He didn’t dare let his mind linger too long on the last time he’d been here, and the fact that Sally had evidently assumed they’d pick up where they’d left off. She’d been crushed when he’d pushed her away. Shame washed over David afresh as he recalled the look on her face, how much he must have hurt her. Small wonder, when he’d been so willing that first time, leaving Sally …
Pregnant. Unbelievable. David still couldn’t quite get his head around it, much less how. Contrary to Andrea’s barbed, but understandable comment, he was all too familiar with the reproductive system and the consequences of not being careful. They had been, but obviously not careful enough. The result: he’d successfully ruined another woman’s life. Way to go, David.
Despairing of himself, he headed for the lounge to wait. He’d stand by Sally, by his child. He was determined to do that, assuming she wanted him to. She really did deserve better, though, than someone who’d treated her so …
David’s thoughts were cut short as he neared the lounge door. ‘Oh, Mum, stop worrying, I’m fine,’ he heard Sally say into the phone. ‘It’s just stomach cramps.’
David shook his head then, feeling more than the slightest bit confused, and waited for Sally to end the call.
‘Oh, he’s perfect,’ Sally went on dreamily. ‘Yes, a doctor, quite a catch. Uh, oh, talking of whom, I’d better go. He’s due here any second.’
Saying her goodbyes, Sally plopped the phone down and then, humming happily to herself, turned around and with an ‘Oh my!’, stopped dead. ‘You almost gave me a heart attack!’
‘Sorry, I, er …’ David squinted at her, perplexed.
‘You really shouldn’t creep up on people, David, you know?’
‘No. I know. Sorry.’ He looked her over. She wasn’t wearing the seductive silk attire, he noted. She was wearing a loose fitting top that didn’t give anything away. His eyes strayed to her midriff. It would be too early for her to show yet anyway, he supposed, but … ‘Stomach cramps?’ He glanced at her quizzically.
‘Morning sickness.’ Sally lost the annoyed look and smiled stoically.
David furrowed his brow. ‘Oh.’
‘I know, it’s awful, isn’t it? Having to lie to your own mother, but she was so upset after I lost little Lucas.’ Sally glanced down, pressing the palm of her hand lightly to her tummy.
And now David was shocked. ‘You lost a child?’ he asked, concerned – for Sally and for himself. Was he really that much of an unfeeling bastard, he’d only considered what effect this pregnancy might have on his own future? Had he even thought about Sally’s feelings in all of this?
Sally nodded sadly. ‘Five months.’
‘Blimey.’ David closed his eyes, empathising more than she could know. ‘I’m sorry, Sally. That must have been hard.’
‘It was.’ Sally blinked back a tear, and David felt even worse. ‘Mum had to pick up the pieces; then again when Nick buggered off with his anorexic stick insect. She’d be round here in a flash if she thought I was pregnant again. I’d rather wait before I tell her, you know.’
David studied her for a second longer, then nodded, understanding. ‘I’ll arrange for you to have a scan.’ He offered her a reassuring smile. ‘Best keep a close eye on things.’
‘Oh. I, um …’ Sally’s eyes flickered nervously down again. ‘I’m seeing someone else at the surgery,’ she said quickly, looking back at him. ‘Doctor Paton.’
She was? David was now very confused. She was on his list. He’d checked.
‘I wasn’t sure you’d be very pleased at the news,’ Sally explained, before he could ask why. She walked over to perch herself on the sofa, where she plucked up a cushion and clutched it to her. ‘I thought it might make it less awkward for you.’
Which summed up how badly he had treated her. Running a hand over his neck, David sighed at his ineptitude in handling any kind of emotional situation. ‘I am pleased,’ he said, going over to her.
‘You are?’ Sally looked up at him hopefully.
‘Well, it wasn’t planned, obviously, but …’ David shrugged and smiled ‘… I’m getting used to the idea.’
Sally smiled tremulously back. ‘So you’ll support me, then?’
David sat down beside her. ‘Of course I will.’ He nodded, then, reluctant to take her hand, lest she think he might be about to, he patted her cushion instead. ‘That’s some bump. Eight months, I’d say. You’d better get on and get that scan organised.’
‘Idiot.’ Sally laughed, but her smile froze on her lips as a Homer-shaped missile shot from the hall, clearing the lounge floor in two seconds flat, to attempt to scramble onto David’s lap.
‘Eeeargh!’ Sally shot to her feet. ’Get down!’ she screeched. ‘Get … down!’ she said again, thwacking the dog with the cushion before David had a chance to get a hold of him.
‘What?’ Shooting across the room after him, David finally managed to pick the bewildered puppy up. ‘Do you have a problem?’ he asked, thinking she must be allergic to dogs, scared of them. Something.
‘Yes!’ Sally looked in boggle-eyed disbelief from him to the sofa. ‘It’s Italian leather art deco! A Jean Renoir with contrast leather piping! I don’t want animals jumping all over it with muddy paws.’
‘Ah, right.’ David plucked up one of Homer’s paws and peered at it, seeing no evidence of mud thereon. What about children jumping all over it though, he couldn’t help wondering, with sticky hands? He’d spent ten minutes trying to clean the evidence of Jake’s chocolate smoothie from one of his own armchairs before he’d given up, figuring in the great scheme of things, it didn’t really matter. If Sally was that particular, she was going to struggle with a toddler’s fingers on everything. David couldn’t help thinking about Chloe, and Andrea’s remark about how the mess her children would make of Sally’s elegant furnishings and décor would drive Sally to move out. Jake and Sally would most definitely not hit it off, that was for sure.
‘I’ll take him home,’ David said. Before he pees on the oriental rug, he thought, bemused, as Sally dove into her cupboard for a cloth and polish, obviously kept handy for just such emergencies.
‘See you later,’ he called, rolling his eyes as Sally set to buffing her Italian leather art deco sofa with vigour. ‘Better not pee on that, Homer,’ he whispered in the dog’s ear as he headed to the front door – to find Ryan and Dougal on the other side of it, a sheepish looking Jake peering out from behind Ryan.
‘Sorry, Dad. He slipped his lead,’ Jake said, not looking all that apologetic as he dangled the evidence, one dog-free collar. ‘Homer hasn’t upset the neighbours, has he?’
Not half as much as I have, David thought ruefully. ‘A bit,’ he said, wanting to reinforce that with dog ownership came responsibility. ‘Tighten the collar a notch, hey, Jake?’
‘Will do,’ Jake said, dragging a hand under his runny nose. David didn’t dare imagine what Sally’s reaction to that on her contrast piping might be. ‘Ryan’s got to go. We came to tell you.’
‘Oh, right. Okay, take Homer inside.’ David handed him over. ‘And make sure he has some water in his dish,
Jake, yes?’
‘Yep,’ Jake said, heading for the house, puppy in arms.
‘Look, Jake! Left and right,’ David shouted, stopping him short of the road.
‘Oops,’ Jake said over his shoulder, dutifully obliged, then scooted happily on.
‘Cheers, Ryan.’ David smiled as Jake headed up the drive. ‘In case I forget to mention it, you’re all right.’
‘Yeah, I know.’ Ryan shrugged modestly. ‘Pity the girls don’t think so.’
‘Oh.’ David sensed he might be confiding, but also sensed he probably didn’t want to go too far down that road. ‘No luck yet, then?’
‘Not with your kid in tow, no,’ Ryan said bluntly.
‘Ah, right.’ David nodded. Ryan had been a real godsend. David wasn’t sure he would have been able to cope without him taking Jake under his wing. Looked like he would have to learn how to now. ‘Look, Ryan, you’ve been brilliant. I’m really grateful for your help with Jake, but if you need some space …’
‘’S’okay,’ Ryan said, with another casual shrug. ‘I like him. If I get an offer from a fit female, I’ll let you know.’
‘Do that.’ David laughed, relieved. ‘I might have to ask you for a few parenting tips, though.’
Ryan nodded, only a hint of a smile on his face, lest he show too much emotion for an emotionally charged punk rocker, David guessed. ‘You’re doing all right,’ he commented.
‘I’m trying.’ David bent to give Dougal a pat and then stepped past Ryan towards his house, while he still had one. No doubt Homer would be doing a wall-of-death around the lounge by now, Jake whooping and cheering him on.
‘I meant on the girlfriend front,’ Ryan said drolly behind him.
Ouch! David winced. Well, he definitely deserved that, he supposed. ‘Not with the one I’d like to be, Ryan,’ he admitted, turning back.
Ryan regarded him thoughtfully. ‘Gotta go,’ he said, after a second. ‘Eva’s looking after Dougal while we’re at the hotel. I have to take him back and Mum’s waiting to go and get dinner.’
‘Give her my regards,’ David said as Ryan headed off, skinny jeans still hanging in there and laces trailing flatly behind him.
‘Will do. Oh, she has a new mobile, by the way,’ Ryan said, over his shoulder. ‘I’ll let you have the number. You’ll probably need it to discuss the flat Eva’s offered her so the landlord can stay incognito. Catch you lata.’
David couldn’t help but smile. Weren’t all adolescents supposed to be uncommunicative and moody? Ryan might not say a lot and his mood was generally ‘chillaxed’, in keeping with his image, but he was caring, and what little he did say communicated volumes.
‘Cheers,’ David called after him, smiling again as Ryan plucked Dougal up to carry him, ‘cos you’ve only got short legs, haven’t you, hey, little guy?’
Home not-so-sweet home, Andrea sighed, heading back from the café to the Travelodge. It might not be home, but at least the kids seemed reasonably happy now they dined on food to suit their palate: banana leaf thai curry for Sophie, Tower Burger for Ryan, which he delighted in graphically describing the meaty ingredients of to his sister. Dee had a traditional steak and ale pie, with a beer on the side, and Chloe and she had shared a platter with essential chips. All were replete. At this rate, though, they’d soon be sharing one platter between them in their room, singular, as opposed to the family room plus a room for Ryan she was currently splashing out for.
‘Sleepy, munchkin?’ Andrea asked Chloe, peering down at her bleary-eyed toddler as she carried her back to the family room.
‘Hodilay,’ Chloe mumbled around the thumb she was sucking on, and nestled further into her shoulder.
‘That’s right, sweetie, holiday.’ Andrea kissed the top of her baby’s head and silently thanked God for her. At least, in her innocence, Chloe thought it was all one big adventure, excited at tucking up in the pull-out bed with her sister, while Dee and she shared the double bed. Sophie had cheered up immensely this evening, though, having apparently already viewed the accommodation over the shop Eva had offered them.
Eva had mentioned the premises when Andrea had dropped Dougal off at her house earlier, Eva having volunteered to dog-sit while Andrea searched for somewhere else to stay that was more dog-friendly, bless her helpful heart. Not sure how practical an apartment would be; Andrea said she’d think about it, but then, when Sophie had arrived back at the hotel bursting with news of the ‘cool’ attic room she’d bagsied and Ryan apparently being ‘cool’ about it, too, Andrea had made up her mind to accept Eva’s offer. She wasn’t so sure about accepting her offer of rent-free for a few months until she got back on her feet, though.
She’d need to speak to Eva more about that, about the shop aspect of things, too. She couldn’t realistically pursue her Second Chance Designer idea now, with the future so uncertain. Ah, well, at least they were all here and healthy. The future could have been a lot bleaker, she reminded herself, reaching into her pocket for her key, and then waiting while her straggly entourage caught up.
‘It was probably horse meat,’ she heard Sophie say as she dawdled along the corridor, obviously on the offensive after Ryan tormented her with tales of the contents of his bun.
‘Was it?’ Dee stopped, for at least the third time in the space of twenty yards.
‘Nah, it was a hundred per cent dead cow, Gran,’ Ryan said, true to form.
‘Oh, good.’ Dee nodded satisfied, and trotted on.
‘Yeah, right,’ Sophie scoffed. ‘More like forty per cent with muscle and connective tissue thrown in, and soya and beef fat … and minced up eyeballs.’ She smirked as she waltzed past Ryan.
‘Mmmm, delish,’ Ryan responded, rubbing his tummy, but quietly curling a lip, Andrea noticed, amused.
Dee stopped, again. ‘I thought mine was a bit chewy,’ she pondered. ‘I hope I haven’t got bits of eyeball stuck in my teeth.’ With which, she promptly reached to extract said teeth as an alarmed looking occupant emerged from a room alongside.
‘Mum!’ Andrea skidded hastily back towards her. ‘Sorry,’ she said, beaming the young woman a slightly imbecilic smile. ‘She’s quite harmless,’ she assured her, urging Dee on, ‘as long as you don’t mind being driven batty along with her.’
‘I’m not batty,’ Dee objected, still attempting to remove her teeth.
‘Nah, Gran, just eccentric.’ Ryan smirked. ‘We love you, don’t we, Sophe?’
Mortified ‘Sophe’, however, Andrea noted, had disappeared into the room, possibly faster than she’d ever moved in her life.
‘That’s heart-warming, Ryan. Truly gratifying,’ Andrea said, her smile now a bit on the tight side. ‘Here you go.’ She passed big brother his little sister. ‘Tuck her in for me, please, and since you love your gran so much, you can make sure she’s tucked up, too.’
‘Yer what?’ Ryan gawked over Chloe. ‘But I was going to watch telly.’
Andrea pointed him onward. ‘In there,’ she instructed. ‘I need the use of your room.’
‘Oh, yes?’ Ryan arched a curious eyebrow.
‘To talk, Ryan,’ Andrea clarified, lest he think she was entertaining men to keep him in Tower Burgers.
‘Right.’ Ryan nodded. ‘To who?’
‘Jonathan. Who did you think?’
‘Oh, right. Probably best if we keep a low profile, then.’ Ryan sloped on into the family room, not looking overly thrilled.
Low profile? Andrea frowned after him. They hadn’t really reached the stage in their relationship where her children stayed out of the way, had they?
At least she hadn’t had to concern herself with titivating and pouring herself into ridiculous breath-defying dresses this time. Andrea tried not to dwell on their last arranged meeting and the disastrous events of that evening, but her mind kept drifting back to it anyway, images of her home and everything in it being voraciously devoured by fire.
Stop! She told herself firmly, clamping her eyes shut on hot, hungry flames licking at the
bars of her stairs, smoke creeping along her landing to curl under the doors of bedrooms with her sleeping children therein.
Television, she instructed herself, flicking the remote to watch whatever rubbish might be on, and checking her watch for the tenth time. She couldn’t believe he was late. Hadn’t she said when she’d phoned him that they needed to talk about their future plans? Surely Jonathan must have realised she meant whether they actually had a future together worth planning for?
He’d suggested they meet at ‘their’ restaurant. Yes, that had worked out really well last time, hadn’t it? she’d pointed out, with more than a hint of sarcasm. She’d be sitting there now just the same, waiting, worrying, but with one slight difference, she supposed. This time she hadn’t got a house to bloody well burn down while she did.
Very annoyed now, Andrea stood up to flick the TV off and allow Ryan the use of his room back. Jonathan wasn’t going to come, was he? She should have known. He’d said he’d been taken to the hospital that dreadful night, when he hadn’t shown. She’d accepted his explanation. She’d wanted to believe it, but she didn’t, not deep down. And now, with their whole world torn apart, her children’s security ripped from underneath them, here was Jonathan obvious by his absence, again. Did he care, at all? He certainly hadn’t shown any evidence he did lately. Had he ever?
Pulling in a shuddery breath, Andrea headed for the door, her mind racing ahead to what she should do next, pursuing the insurance claim being number one on her list. There had to be a way to get details, through the mortgage provider possibly? Pondering, she almost parted company with her skin when the door knocked as she reached it. Jonathan?
Torn between relieved and furious, Andrea spied through the peephole, then pulled the door open, determined not to let his tardiness cloud the issues they had to discuss.
‘My, you’re keen, aren’t you?’ Jonathan smiled. ‘I bought you these,’ he said before Andrea could speak, producing a bunch of red roses from behind his back.
‘Oh.’ Taken aback, Andrea blinked at the roses and then him, bemused.
Learning to Love Page 27
