‘You’re a natural,’ he said, nodding towards the wall. ‘You obviously take after your mum.’
Jake stopped, cocked his head to one side to examine his efforts, then, ‘Yeah,’ he said, with a satisfied nod. ‘She was ace with a paintbrush. I must take after her, not you.’
‘Yes. Cheers, Jake.’ David glanced at his own work, ceiling lines passable but not perfect. ‘The artistic gene obviously passed me by.’
‘Yeah.’ Jake smirked, his attention now back on his patch of wall. ‘Do you think Andrea would like some of Mum’s paintings?’ he asked, catching David off guard.
He sucked in a breath. He hadn’t thought much about Michelle’s paintings. It still pained him to think about her working on them in their spare room. That’s where she’d told him the good news, that she was pregnant. That was another time he got covered in paint. Body art, Michelle had called it, squirting a cold blob of yellow ochre – so she’d informed him – onto his chest and rubbing it in liberally.
David closed his eyes as he remembered; that was not long before the bad news arrived – and the paintings had turned dark.
‘I don’t know, Jake,’ he said, imagining that Andrea, under the circumstances, wouldn’t appreciate having his lost wife’s paintings adorning her walls. ‘I’ll ask her, once she’s moved in.’
‘Okay.’ Jake nodded happily. ‘So?’
‘So … What?’ David glanced down, now at work on the wall above Jake.
‘So how long do we have?’ Jake repeated the question he’d asked before David got lost in his thoughts.
‘Oh, right.’ David checked his watch. ‘Two hours and counting.’ And that would be pushing it. Jake had already had one late bedtime this week. ‘What we need if we’re going to get this done in time for Andrea to move in …’ David stretched to reach a bit he’d missed.
‘Oi,’ Jake said from below as a drip rained down on him.
‘Sorry. It’ll match the rest though,’ David suggested helpfully.
‘Yeah, cheers, Dad.’ Jake shook his head.
‘We need …’ David went on, surveying the shop walls, which he’d left until last and were nowhere near finished, ‘… a bloody miracle.’
‘Language,’ Jake admonished him.
‘You have one,’ Eva said behind him, causing David to drip another fat splat on Jake’s head.
‘Crap!’ Man and boy exchanged worried glances, then both looked over their shoulders as Eva bustled on in, followed by Thea and Nita, Ryan helping guide her chair through the door, only to be told, ‘I have arms, you know. I can do it myself,’ by the unimpressed occupant of the chair.
‘Ryan said he was coming over to lend you a hand,’ Eva said, glancing around the room with a critical eye, ‘so we thought we’d join him. Show a bit of community spirit and whatnot. Soon have the job done. You’ve missed a bit, by the way.’
‘Right. Thanks, I think.’ David swapped amused glances with Jake as Ryan, unruffled by Nita’s chastisements, continued to steer the chair – over the paint tray.
‘If you insist on handling my daughter, dear boy,’ Thea said haughtily, removing her faux fur coat to reveal diamante-belted overalls underneath, ‘do you mind doing it gently?’
‘Ooh, Mum!’ Nita scowled as Ryan blushed, glancing embarrassedly at David.
‘Think you might have scored.’ Jake giggled.
‘Yeah,’ Ryan eyed the ceiling and walked over for a cloth, ‘unfortunately not with the old trout of a mother.’
‘I heard that,’ Thea boomed indignantly, behind him.
David winced. ‘Nope, definitely not impressed.’ He gave Ryan a shrug of commiseration and handed him the roller.
‘Cheers,’ Ryan said, looking at it as if he wasn’t quite sure what to do with it. ‘Do you have your phone?’
‘Yes,’ David eyed him curiously, ‘why?’
Ryan reached into his jeans pocket for his mobile. ‘Texting you Mum’s number,’ he said, ‘just in case. You’ll know who it is then, if she needs to contact you at short notice.’
‘Oh, right. Cheers, Ryan.’ David regarded him evermore curiously as his own phone beeped incoming text. Just in case of what? he wondered warily.
Andrea noted the last caller on her mobile and debated the wisdom of letting Jonathan have the number. But then, his calls on the hotel phone had become nuisance calls, always arriving when Chloe had just closed her eyes. And she certainly didn’t want him ringing Ryan or Sophie to arrange when he might drop by to see Chloe.
He could see her, of course, but bearing in mind the last time Andrea had seen him, she’d prefer it to be in her company and in public, at least until they’d talked civilly about where they went from here.
Wherever it was, it wouldn’t be together, that much Andrea was sure of, which meant she’d have to go through the custody thing all over again, she supposed. Shaking off a shudder of déjà vu, she turned to gather Chloe up, who was busy putting Igglepiggle to bed in a shoebox. Clearly this little madam didn’t think losing all her worldly goods was a major catastrophe. Maybe going back to basics would be no bad thing – and basic it would be with hardly a stick of furniture to furnish their new home with.
At least they’d have beds to sleep in, though, thanks to Eva generously donating her spare single and Beki at the Tiny Tots shop supplying Chloe with a bed, bless her. Even Thea had come up trumps, also offering a single and two sleeping bags – and a man with a van to deliver it all while Andrea was at school. Such were the benefits of living in a small community. Yes, news travelled fast, to the chagrin of people like David Adams who seemed intent on making headlines, but that was no bad thing if you needed help in a hurry. Andrea’s own situation was proof of that.
How fast would David and Sally’s news travel, once Sally had announced her impending happy event? Strange that she hadn’t yet. How was she? Andrea wondered. She’d looked a bit peaky when she’d last seen her, no surprise there, she supposed, given her condition, but Andrea hadn’t been able to ask her. They’d barely spoken other than a passing acknowledgement in the school corridors. She’d have to go and see her, she decided. Try to make Sally see that her relationship with David was platonic, assuming David and she were speaking, of course, after their last chat, which hadn’t been very civil either. She’d avoided him since, other than a cordial wave across the playground, though that was possibly more because she’d prefer the bruise to have faded on her cheek before coming face to face with him. She would go and see Sally. Andrea made her decision. Later though. First of all, she needed to get her family and what few belongings they had into their new home.
‘Ready guys?’ she asked, glancing over to Sophie who was idly skimming the channels on the TV from her seat on the bed settee.
‘More than,’ Sophie assured her, tossing the remote and moving with more enthusiasm than she had possibly ever.
‘Can’t find my teeth,’ Dee called from the bathroom.
‘In your mouth, Gran,’ Sophie supplied, with a roll of her eyes.
‘Mothers.’ Andrea sighed good-naturedly.
‘Who’d have ’em?’ Sophie did likewise, her mouth twitching into an actual smile as she linked arms with her mum.
‘You, obviously,’ Andrea suggested wryly, ‘even if it is a rubbish one.’
She still couldn’t quite believe she made such abysmal choices regarding the men in her life. First Sophie and Ryan’s father, who most definitely had aggressive tendencies – but then, she wouldn’t have Sophie and Ryan without him. Then Jonathan. She wouldn’t have had Chloe either though, without him, she reminded herself. And the bruise to her face, which had now faded to a lovely shade of mottled yellow, hadn’t been physically inflicted by him. Indirectly, though …? Could she really risk putting her children in that situation again?
‘Nah, you’ll do,’ Sophie said, with a nonchalant shrug.
‘Thank you.’ Andrea accepted the closest she was likely to get to a compliment gracefully. ‘Right, come on then, troops,’ sh
e hoisted Chloe higher, ‘let’s go and collect Ryan, before he morphs with the TV.’
‘I still think the dining suite looked better in the window.’ Eva glanced around the lounge of the flat thoughtfully.
‘You think so?’ David ran his hand through his hair and looked to where he’d just dragged the corner sofa. Eva was right, he decided. In front of the low bay window, the sofa blocked out the light and didn’t do the space justice. The solid wood dining table and chairs made the window more a feature and Andrea might prefer the view, people-watching over breakfast. Dee, too.
‘Right.’ He nodded, and set about heaving the heavy furniture about for the third time that morning.
Dining table and sofa finally in position, and every bone in his body aching, David was finally satisfied.
‘What do you reckon?’ he asked Eva, glancing over his shoulder as she came back in with tea. ‘Think she’ll like it?’
‘Ooh, I should think she’ll love it.’ Eva bustled over to deposit the tray on the dining table. ‘Why don’t you ask her?’ She turned back, nodding past him to the door.
With some trepidation, given they hadn’t exactly parted friends last time they’d met, David turned around to see Andrea behind him, her pretty green eyes wide with surprise.
Pleasant surprise, David hoped. ‘Well?’ he tugged in a breath and held it, while Andrea gazed around, taking in the orchid white walls, the dining table – now looking spot on in the bay window with the retro print blinds as a backdrop – the mahogany fireplace, much like the one in David’s house, restored and resplendent against the paintwork, the wooden floors, which he’d overlaid as the original wasn’t up to much. She glanced from the four wrought iron candle holders he’d placed on the mantel, to the contemporary cast iron wall designs he’d positioned above, to the wrought iron chandelier he’d picked up from the second-hand shop, and then back to him, astonished.
‘I …’ she started.
‘Wow! Mum!’ came a delighted whoop from the attic room above. ‘You just have to come and see this; it’s totally wicked!’
‘I love it.’ Andrea laughed out loud.
Yesss! David thought, on the verge of an unseemly whoop himself. He’d managed to get something right in her eyes at long last.
‘But why would you—?’ Andrea looked at him quizzically.
‘Boy done good, hasn’t he?’ Eva interrupted.
‘Extremely good.’ Andrea looked from Eva to David, still smiling but obviously perplexed. ‘But I don’t understand why he’s done all—’
‘I don’t know what I’d have done without Doctor Adams offering to help out, what with young Darren about to give birth and Bob having to take time off with his asthma. If it wasn’t for David—’
‘Ooh, a proper bath!’ Dee’s delighted tones drifted down the hall. ‘I’ll look forward to soaking my bunions in that.’
Andrea winced. David smiled. ‘Roll top cast iron I found on eBay,’ he supplied. ‘I thought it would go with the general décor.’
‘But why would you do all this?’ Andrea finally managed.
David shrugged evasively. ‘Practice.’
Andrea didn’t look convinced.
‘Well, Eva couldn’t do it all,’ David pointed out.
‘Not with him insisting I keep my legs in the air,’ Eva added, with a mischievous wink.
‘And, as Eva says, the decorators are out of commission, so …’
‘We called in the cavalry,’ Eva said, giving David’s cheek an affectionate pat.
Andrea was still staring at him awestruck, which felt pretty good. ‘You did all this, on your own?’
‘Ah, well, no, not quite. I had a little help,’ David admitted, nodding towards Jake, who came in with Ryan, both boys smirking from ear to ear. ‘They’ve got the job, by the way.’
Andrea looked him over, a definite twinkle back in her eye. ‘I’m overwhelmed,’ she said stepping forward to plant a soft kiss on his cheek. ‘Thank you.’
‘My pleasure,’ David said, noting she was wearing make-up. ‘So,’ he said, drawing in a tight breath as he scanned her face more closely, ‘you’re good with it, then.’
‘I’m ecstatic,’ Andrea assured him, gazing around. ‘I really do love it, David. I couldn’t have chosen better myself. Actually, I couldn’t have chosen at all, until the insurance people pay …’ she trailed off.
‘Great. I’m glad.’ David smiled. ‘Ryan, do you fancy nipping to the shops to get some Pepsi? I should think you both need a drink, yes?’
‘Nah, I’m—’ Ryan stopped as he met David’s meaningful gaze. ‘Minty,’ he said twirling around. ‘Come on, Jake.’
David’s gaze shifted to Eva, who noted the slight incline of his head towards the door and decided, ‘You’ll need some general supplies, Andrea. I’ll pop to the village shop with the boys. Oh, Deirdre,’ she called, heading for the hall.
‘She’s not here,’ Dee informed her from the loo.
‘I thought we’d pop to the store for some groceries,’ Eva suggested sweetly. ‘What do you think, my dear?’
A pause, then, ‘I think I’m hallucinating. Must be the paint fumes.’
‘We could dig up some edibles from my garden on the way,’ Eva’s voice floated back as Dee shuffled, muttering, from bathroom to hall.
‘Might have known there’d be a blooming catch,’ was Dee’s unenthusiastic response.
Andrea laughed as the two women made precarious progress onwards, Eva all sweetness and light, Dee her usual rude self. ‘Honestly, what would you do with them?’
‘Well, maybe not put them out to grass, just yet,’ David suggested, not very diplomatically probably, but he couldn’t help himself.
‘No.’ Obviously getting his meaning, Andrea glanced away. ‘I adore the furnishings,’ she said, walking across to trail her hand over the back of the sofa. ‘And the décor. I can’t think how you knew I was about to decorate my lounge in this colour, before the fire, obviously.’
‘Ryan, he put me right on a few things,’ David said. ‘Andrea?’
‘Hmm?’ Andrea was now admiring the blinds.
‘Where did the bruise come from?’
David watched, keeping a tight rein on his anger, as Andrea glanced immediately down, visibly debating whether to drop that bastard Eden in it.
‘I … fell,’ she eventually mumbled, her shoulders deflating.
‘Right.’ David nodded slowly. ‘And was Jonathan in the vicinity when you fell, by any chance?’
‘No, I … Yes. It …’ Andrea turned around and leant wearily against the edge of the dining table. ‘It wasn’t what you’re thinking, David. It was an accident.’
‘I see.’ David nodded again and counted silently to five. ‘Andrea,’ he glanced at the ceiling, ‘if you knew how many times I’d heard that.’
‘David, it wasn’t … He didn’t—’
‘How many times I’ve had people, women mostly, come into my surgery with bruises, broken bones, smashed in faces—’
‘David, don’t!’ Andrea pushed herself away from the table.
‘They all trip or fall, Andrea! Or walk into doors. I’ve heard every conceivable excuse there is for a bruise that was more probably caused by a fist!’
‘It was not!’ Andrea stood her ground adamantly, but glanced away again under his questioning gaze.
David closed his eyes, furious inside. He didn’t want to upset her. He didn’t want to frighten her, and he possibly was, but he most definitely wanted the truth. ‘Did you argue?’ he asked more quietly.
Andrea deliberated. David waited.
She nodded, finally. ‘The bruise was an accident, but, yes, we did argue.’
And that, as far as David was concerned, was enough. An argument that resulted in a person sustaining physical injury meant it was a violent one. ‘And did you resolve anything?’ he asked, his throat tight. As in, did Eden admit he was a thieving piece of scum?
Andrea shook her head. ‘Not really.’
&nbs
p; No, David thought not. ‘There are some things I need to tell you, Andrea.’ He made up his mind. For her own sake, she needed to know. ‘About Jonathan’s business dealings.’
‘I’m not sure I want to hear them, David. You didn’t exactly warm to him, after all, did you?’
For personal reasons, David knew she meant, and wasn’t sure how to answer.
‘I need to get some things from the car.’ Andrea made to walk past him.
‘Andrea, hear me out, please?’ David caught her arm. ‘It’s important.’
Andrea scanned his eyes, nodded slowly, then glanced down to his hold on her arm.
Which was wholly inappropriate this time, David realised, dropping his hand away. ‘Jonathan was hiding something,’ he went on, ‘a policy document. Dee got wind of it and—’
‘Don’t be ridiculous! Why would Jonathan be hiding the insurance documents? The assessors have already been. He—’
‘Not the household insurance documents, Andrea, investment documents.’
Andrea looked at him as if he’d taken leave of his senses. ‘Right,’ she nodded, obviously unconvinced. ‘Whose? And why?’
David hesitated. ‘I’m not at liberty to say whose. As for why, because they’re forged,’ he said bluntly.
Andrea’s mouth dropped open. ‘What?’
‘They’re forged, Andrea. He never invested the money. The document proves he never made the investment.’
‘You’re mad.’ Andrea laughed, disbelieving.
David dragged his hand over his neck. ‘It’s the truth, Andrea, I swear.’
‘This is unbelievable.’ Andrea shook her head incredulously. ‘It really is. The clients take income from their investments, Doctor Einstein! Withdrawals! How could they do that if there was never any investment in the first place?’
‘He’s been paying income from other investments coming in, Andrea,’ David persisted. ‘That’s why the client never suspects—’
Andrea walked past him to the door. ‘You’re talking absolute rubbish,’ she snapped angrily.
David skirted around her. ‘Andrea, I’m not. He’s running a fraudulent operation. He was never going to tell you and you bloody well need to know!’
Learning to Love Page 29
