‘Don’t you dare touch me!’ Evidently thinking the same, the brigadier-type backed away.
‘Oh, do me a favour.’ Dex, his eyes rolling with derision, stuffed the poo-stained shirt into the paper-towel bin. ‘Right, we’re off. You have a nice lunch with your wife and don’t worry about us. Whatever you do, don’t let it bother you that you’ve ruined our day.’
They left the bathroom, climbed the stairs and Dex beckoned for one of the waiters to follow them out of the hotel. On the pavement outside the entrance – because standing in reception bare-chested and wearing poo-stained jeans would be all kinds of wrong – he opened his wallet and began peeling off twenty-pound notes.
‘It isn’t that much, sir,’ the Irish waiter protested.
‘Those two miserable fuckers at the table next to us? Pay for their meal too.’
The waiter, who’d evidently heard them complaining, said, ‘You don’t have to do that.’
‘I know, but let’s do it anyway. Bastards.’
‘I’ll tell them you were here to celebrate your wedding anniversary.’ He smiled. ‘I hope we’ll see you again, sir.’
‘Thanks. And you may want to send someone down to the men’s bathroom to empty the bin,’ said Dex. ‘It’s got my shirt in it.’
It wasn’t smelling great in the car, thanks to the present Delphi had left on Dex’s jeans. As they drove along with all the windows down, Molly tried not to glance sideways at his lean tanned upper body. When they passed a clothes shop she said, ‘We could stop and buy you a new T-shirt and jeans.’
He shook his head. ‘No.’
‘Why not?’ In an effort to make things better, she said, ‘Let’s do that! It’s not too late to find somewhere else to eat.’
‘It is.’ Dex paused. ‘Sorry. You must be starving.’
‘I’m not.’ No sooner was the lie out of her mouth than her stomach rumbled.
There was a Burger King up ahead. He pulled in and handed her a tenner. ‘I’ll wait here. You have whatever you want.’
‘Remember in Pretty Woman when Richard Gere said that to Julia Roberts? I always dreamed of hearing someone say it to me,’ said Molly. ‘And now they have.’
But Dex wasn’t in the mood to be cheered up. ‘Sorry. We’ll do lunch another day.’
‘Will you stop apologising? What shall I get you?’
‘Nothing. Not hungry.’
He said it again when they arrived home. ‘Sorry.’
‘You’ll look back and laugh about this one day,’ said Molly.
But he was shaking his head; she’d never seen him so pissed off. ‘Serves me right for thinking we could have a nice trip out of here. Spend a couple of hours having a good time.’
His eyes, normally sparkling with playful humour, were bleak with resignation. There was no hint of a smile. He’d been looking after Delphi without a break for weeks and now here they were, back in Briarwood.
‘What are you going to do now?’ Molly watched as he lifted a now sleeping Delphi out of her car seat.
‘Me? Have a shower. Change into something that doesn’t smell like a cowshed. Put the washing on, clean the bathroom. And then when this one wakes up we’ll maybe watch a cartoon, play with some bricks . . . I don’t know. The thrilling possibilities are endless.’
‘Look, go up to London,’ said Molly. ‘See your friends, have a break. Leave Delphi with me.’
Dex had stopped shaking his head. The last time she’d seen a look of hope like that was when Joe and Frankie had presented Amber, back when she was ten, with a choice between the usual caravanning holiday in Wales or a trip to Disneyland, Paris.
‘Really?’
‘Why not? You’re having a bad day. You need a bit of time off and I’m not doing anything else. I’ll look after Delphi, you can meet up with your friends. Stay overnight and come home tomorrow morning.’
Dex’s expression softened. He murmured something that sounded like, ‘That’s what friends are for.’
Molly said, ‘What?’
‘Something you said ages ago. You’re a star. Only if you’re absolutely sure, though.’
‘Of course I’m sure. We’ll be fine. Go on, have your shower now.’ As he nudged the car door shut with his foot, Molly said, ‘Don’t take this the wrong way, but the sooner you stop smelling like a zoo, the better.’
He was back forty minutes later, thoroughly cleaned up, wearing black trousers and a dark grey shirt.
‘See? You don’t scrub up too badly.’
As she said it, Molly breathed in the clean citrus scent of his aftershave, so much nicer than before.
‘I feel like a new mum, going out for the first time since giving birth.’ Dex was restored to his normal playful self. He waggled Delphi’s hands and kissed her on the tip of her nose. ‘You be a good girl, OK? I’ll see you tomorrow.’
Delphi stuck her fingers in his mouth and squealed with laughter as he pretended to bite them.
‘Have fun,’ said Molly.
‘That’s the plan.’ Dex handed her the keys to his cottage. ‘The spare room’s all ready for you. Help yourself to anything. I’ll see you tomorrow. And thanks again.’
‘No problem.’ Delphi was clamouring for another kiss; Molly held her up so Dex could oblige. The next moment, just as she was turning away, she belatedly realised he was about to give her a kiss on the cheek too. It was one of those completely-not-expecting-it moments; caught off guard, she jerked her head back round and managed to crack her forehead against his cheekbone . . . oh God, how mortifying, how juvenile. OK, just pretend it didn’t happen.
‘Right!’ Flustered, she took a couple of steps back and yanked the door open. ‘Off you go! Wave bye-bye, sweetheart. That’s it, good girl, say bye!’
‘Gaaahhh,’ said Delphi.
Chapter 21
It was six o’clock and Frankie was making cheese on toast in the kitchen. Amber had texted to say she was staying for tea with one of her friends from school, and Joe wasn’t due home tonight, so no need to cook a proper dinner. Instead she could have a snack in front of the TV, watch the programmes she wanted to watch, eat chocolate without having to feel guilty about it and maybe re-do the polish on her toes later in perfect peace.
The front door opened, Frankie jumped and the slice of cheese on toast slid off her plate on to the floor. Cheese side down, naturally.
She called out, ‘Amber? Is that you?’
No reply. But Joe was in Norfolk so it couldn’t be him, surely? Stepping over the slice of cheese on toast, Frankie pulled open the kitchen door.
It was Joe.
‘Oh my goodness, you gave me a fright! What are you doing home? I was just making myself some . . .’ Her voice trailed away as she saw the expression on his face. ‘What’s wrong? Are you ill?’ She’d never seen him so pale and drawn. Was he about to have a heart attack? Why was he looking at her like that? Had he been made redundant?
Joe was shaking his head slightly. ‘I’m not ill.’
‘Is it your job then? Has it gone? Because it doesn’t matter, we’ll manage somehow, we can—’
‘Have you spoken to Amber?’
‘About what? She’s over at Jess’s.’ Frankie’s heart was racing now, her legs wobbly. ‘Oh God, what is it? Don’t tell me she’s in trouble . . . please don’t let it be drugs . . .’ He was still shaking his head, as if he couldn’t stop. Her mouth bone-dry with fear, Frankie croaked, ‘Has she been expelled? Is she pregnant?’
‘It’s nothing like that. I love you, OK? You do know how much I love you.’
Time was slowing down. There was a loud buzzing noise in her ears. ‘Just say it,’ whispered Frankie. ‘Oh God, just say it now. There’s someone else, isn’t there?’
Joe was rubbing his face with his hand; she could hear the dry rasp of stubble against skin. The desperate shake of his head gradually turned into a resigned nod.
‘I love you more than anything. I swear I never wanted this to happen. But yes, there’s someone else.’
Frankie felt nausea rise in her throat, then realised he was still speaking. ‘Two people, actually.’ He paused as she let out an involuntary groan of horror. ‘And Amber knows.’
How was she still able to drive? Somehow the automatic reflexes continued to function. Right now, reaching Amber was her number one priority; whatever it took, she would do it.
Frankie followed the satnav’s instructions and reached the park in Tetbury. It was eight thirty, getting dark now. Getting chilly too. But there was the pond, there were the wooden benches between the flower beds and there was her daughter sitting where she’d said she’d be. With the boy beside her.
Joe’s other child.
His son.
She pulled up, leaving the car’s engine running and the headlights on. Twenty metres away, Amber rose to her feet and said something to the boy. He stood up too, heading off in the opposite direction and melting into the darkness.
Climbing out of the car, Frankie held out her arms and hugged Amber tightly to her.
‘Oh Mum . . .’
‘I know, I know. Sshh.’ Stroking the wild aubergine curls, Frankie felt as if her heart would break on her daughter’s behalf. Her own feelings were currently on hold. Amber, who had always idolised Joe, was her priority now.
‘Shaun wanted to say sorry,’ Amber mumbled into her neck. ‘But I told him not to. He says it’s his fault and I think it’s mine.’
‘Sweetheart, don’t say that. It’s not your fault.’ Frankie’s throat tightened. ‘Or his.’
‘Or yours either.’ Her daughter stepped back. ‘It’s Dad’s. Where is he?’
‘At home, packing some things. He’ll be gone by the time we get back.’ Would that upset her even more?
‘Good, because I hate him. I really do,’ Amber said vehemently. ‘I can’t believe he’s done this to us. I never want to see him again, ever.’
Dex rubbed the back of his neck and surveyed the scene before him. OK, this wasn’t working out. He shouldn’t be feeling like this. He’d wanted to escape, hadn’t he? Leave the tedium of childcare behind for the night, meet up with his old friends, get laid, feel normal again?
That had been the plan, anyway. It was what he’d been desperate for, more desperate than he’d let on even to Molly. She had no idea how close to the edge he’d been feeling, and how guilty as a result. That couple at the table next to theirs had—
‘Come on, keep up! Get that one down you and have another drink!’ Rob and Kenny were back from the bar, voices raised to be heard over the music. The club was an old favourite; they used to come here all the time. But tonight Dex just felt wrong, out of place, as if something was missing.
Or someone.
‘Drink.’ Rob gave him a nudge.
Oh well. It had always worked in the past, hadn’t it? Dex knocked back his beer, then the whisky chaser, shuddering slightly as the heat of the whisky hit his stomach.
‘Pretty girls heading our way.’ Kenny’s eyes lit up. ‘I wouldn’t say no to the one in the red dress.’
Rob snorted. ‘You wouldn’t say no to anything in any kind of dress. You’ll get what you’re given.’ He surveyed them as they approached. ‘Bet you any money Dex goes for that one anyway. She’s right up his street.’
The girl in the red dress was a stunning willowy brunette, but Dex’s attention had been caught by her shorter blonder friend; if you blurred your vision and just took a quick look, she bore a passing resemblance to Molly.
Oh God, what was happening to him?
‘Hiyaa!’ The girl with the passing resemblance to Molly didn’t sound like her at all; she had a voice like an overexcited budgie. ‘Saw you looking at me! D’you come here often?’
‘Not any more, no.’ How many drinks had he had? Quite a few, if you added them all up.
‘Me neither! So that’s cool, isn’t it? We’re both here on the same night. That’s, like, fate. I’m Stacey, by the way. Call me Stace.’ She beamed up at him expectantly.
‘Hello, Stace. Nice to meet you.’ Dex took his car keys out of his jacket pocket and flashed her an apologetic smile. ‘Have a great evening, OK? I’m off.’
Molly jolted awake, her heart leaping like a salmon. She’d definitely just heard the sound of footsteps on the stairs. Was it burglars? Oh God, not tonight of all nights.
It was pitch black outside, still the middle of the night. OK, now what? Run out and confront the intruder? Pretend to be asleep? But what about Delphi in her cot in the nursery across the landing?
The next second there was a tap on her door, which either meant it was an extremely polite burglar, or—
‘Molly? It’s me. Are you awake?’
And breathe. The frantic panic evaporated in an instant. She exhaled and collapsed back against the pillows.
‘I’m awake. What are you doing back?’
The door opened and Dex came into the room. ‘Can I come in?’
‘You already have. It’s fine,’ Molly added as he hesitated. ‘What’s wrong?’
‘I need to talk to you.’ The bed creaked as he sat down. ‘You can’t imagine how I felt this afternoon. I really thought I couldn’t do it. I was all ready to call the social worker and tell her I wanted my old life back.’
‘You wouldn’t have done that.’ Dex wasn’t completely off his head but he’d had a fair amount to drink, that much was obvious. The haze of alcohol fumes surrounded him like a Ready Brek glow.
‘Wouldn’t I? It’s how I felt, I swear to God. All the baby stuff was doing my head in. That pair of miserable old gits at the restaurant today? I wanted to tip them into the river. I was this close to telling them what I thought of them.’
‘So was I. But what did you do instead? Ended up paying for their meal. I wouldn’t have done that for them,’ Molly argued. ‘Not in a million years.’
‘You want to know why? Because I was ashamed,’ Dex said bluntly. ‘I used to be them. Before Delphi was born I bloody hated having my day ruined by other people’s kids. It got on my nerves. I can’t believe how horrible I used to be, but I was. All I cared about was me.’ He stopped and threw himself down alongside her, gazing up at the ceiling. ‘I know I said I could do this, but it doesn’t come naturally, putting someone else first when you’re not used to it. Giving up the life you used to lead. It’s bloody hard.’
‘Of course it is.’ Molly nodded. ‘You knew it wouldn’t be easy.’
‘And I was right about that. But guess what? Something weird happened tonight.’ Dex tilted his head in her direction and raked his fingers through his hair. ‘When I was back there, it felt all wrong. I missed Delphi. I didn’t want to be in that club with those girls. They were just . . . a waste of space. But one of them looked a bit like you and all of a sudden it made me realise . . . well, stuff.’ He gestured vaguely, searching for the right words and failing to find them. ‘And then I started thinking about that thing earlier when I was leaving here and we bumped heads and you got embarrassed and, God, I did too, and that’s never happened to me before . . . so I wondered if it had ever happened to you?’
The way he was looking at her and the tone of his voice was unsettling. He’d now rolled on to his side and was lying with his head propped up on one elbow. Talk about a surreal situation. Her pulse racing, Molly said, ‘Lots of times. I’m very clumsy.’
Dex blinked, as if trying to work out if she’d deliberately ducked the question.
‘Well, it was a first for me. And I had to come home. Because you’re here. That was it, you see; I realised I’d rather be back here with you than in London with . . . whoever. Can I ask you something?’
‘You can ask.’ Oh help, was he drunker than she’d thought?
‘Do you like me?’
OK, definitely drunker. ‘Come on,’ said Molly. ‘If I hated you, I wouldn’t have offered to babysit.’
‘Because I like you,’ said Dex. ‘I mean, really like you.’
‘You don’t. Not in that way.’
‘I do.’ He was over-nodding
now. ‘In every way.’
Well, this was a turn-up. He’d had way too much to drink and was saying embarrassing things. Prompted, presumably, by the fact that she’d helped him out today. Thanks to the amount he’d had to drink – and an attack of gratitude – he appeared to be intent on making an impulsive, alcohol-fuelled pass at her.
Oh dear.
‘Dex, go to bed,’ said Molly.
He broke into a grin; she could see his teeth gleaming white, his dark eyes glinting with mischief.
‘I’m pretty much already in this one. Can I kiss you?’
‘No.’
‘Please. To make up for the complete hash I made of it this afternoon.’ Frustratedly he added, ‘I can’t believe that went so wrong.’
Molly’s body was tingling; on the surface she was doing a good job of sounding sensible, but of course she found him attractive. Because there was no getting away from it, he just was. Physically, he was pretty much faultless. And they got on well together. But taking it any further would be madness. They were friends, they were neighbours and Dex had already freely admitted that girlfriends were for Christmas rather than for life. He was an alpha male, a charmer, accustomed to bedding anyone who briefly took his fancy.
No way was she going to get involved, add herself to his list of conquests, become yet another victim of the inevitable subsequent brush-off.
Talk about catastrophic.
‘You’re not saying anything.’ Dex’s tone was playful, so convinced was he that she would give in.
Molly shook her head and said, ‘I am now. I’m saying no.’
‘What?’
‘You’re not my type. At all. Oh dear,’ she added. ‘After a meaningless quickie, were you? Bad luck. Looks like you should have stayed in London after all.’
Dex did a double take. ‘Do you really mean that?’
‘Yes.’
He sounded taken aback. ‘I thought you liked me.’
‘Not in that way. And I don’t sleep around. Look, go to your own room now. Get some sleep.’
‘I can’t believe this.’ He was frowning, genuinely perplexed.
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