Well, that was just silly. His number would be in his phone, somewhere. And if she couldn’t find it, she’d just reply to the last text sent, tell whoever it was he’d lost his mobile and ask them to contact him if they had another number. Simple.
She headed for the fridge for a snack — the events of the evening leaving her rather peckish, whilst trying to do the decent thing and not read the incoming text in too much depth. Perhaps she should send a message to all his contacts, she thought distractedly, reading it anyway, then almost choking on her Cadbury’s Whole Nut. What time do U want me 2 come over tomorrow? She read it again. Will I need my toothbrush? Jody xx
Excuse me?! Who the bloody hell was Jody-kiss-kiss!?
Donna almost regurgitated a nut. And what the bloody hell was she doing coming over to his house? With a toothbrush?
Cleaning her teeth, obviously. Donna stuffed the last of the whole nut in her mouth and closed the fridge door. Then opened it again, extracted the leftover Easter egg she absolutely wasn’t going to eat and trailed into the lounge.
Checking to make sure there were no Findus-shaped cushions, she sank dejectedly onto the sofa. So what did she do now? Devouring half the egg in three seconds flat, Donna guiltily rewrapped the foil. She could hardly ring the woman and make slitty-eyed accusations, and she couldn’t ask Mark, because, apart from the fact that she shouldn’t be reading his texts, she hadn’t really tried that hard to find out anything about him. She had no rights, whatsoever. If he had a harem queuing outside his bathroom brandishing toothbrushes, she had no right to question or judge him.
Miserably, Donna picked at the foil and slowly peeled it back. She should have known. Did know, deep down. That he… That any man, especially a good-looking man, would cheat on her sooner or later and she’d be hurt all over again.
Thank God she’d protected herself, stipulated no complications from outset and not allowed herself to get too emotionally involved. She’d just cut her losses and, um… Ahem.
Donna dragged a hand under her nose, tugged in a deep breath… but a great, fat tear plopped into her eggshell anyway.
****
Detached. Donna reminded herself what she should be when doorbell rang half an hour later. Emotionally unfettered.
He’d come back for his mobile, presumably. Well, she heaved herself off the sofa, stuffed all evidence of chocolate over-indulgence under a cushion, braced herself and headed for the door.
She wouldn’t demean herself anymore. Uh,uh. Absolutely not. No way was she about to turn into a snarling green-eyed monster; demanding to know why he had a woman staying over with no luggage bar a toothbrush and a fictitious lodger to back up his lies. She didn’t care.
At all. ‘Sniffle’.
Hoisting up her shoulders, Donna quickly checked her face in the hall mirror, then swung the front door wide — to find Alicia and Evelyn standing side-by-side, Alicia with her tongue hanging out, in anticipation of juicy details, no doubt, and her mum wearing half Alicia’s new Next collection and what-have-you-been-up-to expression on her face.
Chapter Seven
‘Has he gone?’ Alicia peered interestedly past Donna up the hall.
‘Definitely,’ Donna reported gloomily, not sure she was ready for a post mortem.
‘Good. The doorstep’s a bit drafty, Donna. Do try and answer a bit more quickly next time.’ Evelyn stepped in, painted toes protruding from peep-toes — Alicia’s — and a bottle of Sauvignon Blanc in hand.
‘Give us the goss, then.’ Alicia followed, wheeling a pyjama-clad Jack before her.
‘And a corkscrew, darling.’ Evelyn handed Donna the wine and headed for the lounge.
‘Oh, and some cheese and biscuits would be nice,’ she called. ‘I’m starving. Dot’s trying to diet, so we’re both on a diet. I left her watching Kelly and Flavia’s Strictly Dancing DVD, trying to jive her way to a honed backside. I think she quite fancies getting down and dirty with that little Italian one. Personally, I’d prefer a few hot moves with that moody Brendan Cole myself.’
‘In your dreams.’ Alicia laughed, handing Donna her Yummy Mummy baby bag, then heading after Evelyn. ‘I think he prefers tall women to mature ones, Mum.’
‘I know.’ Evelyn’s voice drifted from the lounge. ‘Never mind though, I can live with substituting food for sex, especially if Donna can find me a bit of chocolate for afters. Oh, not to worry, I’ve found some.’
Donna sighed and heaved her baggage to the kitchen. Cheese and crackers, she suspected, even with chocolate for afters would be no substitute for Mark.
****
‘Come on then, spill the beans.’ Alicia helped herself to wine and patted the seat beside her. ‘What’s he like?’
Donna checked on Jack, who, with his thumb in his mouth, was contentedly watching his CBeebies DVD form his pushchair. Sighing again, heavily, she plucked up a cheese cracker, and plonked herself down. ‘Quite nice,’ she said, guessing she was going to be grilled about Mark whether she liked it or not.
‘Riveting, I’m sure, but I meant in the bedroom department.’
‘Alicia!’ Donna spat cracker. ‘I haven’t… We haven’t…’ She trailed off, flushing furiously.
‘Done it?’ Alicia gawped, her wine glass halfway to her mouth. ‘Why ever not? The electricity between you two could light up the streetlights.’
Donna’s shoulders slumped. She so didn’t want to be reminded of Mark’s twinkly-eyed smile, which had lit up her world, for a little while.
‘Donna, I know you’re not the sort to leap into bed willy-nilly,’ Alicia said, gently, ‘but a second date’s not too soon, you know, honey. Unless he’s married, of…’
‘He’s not,’ Donna cut in. But then, he might as well be. There she’d been agonising about how she was going to bare all, emotionally as well as physically, and he’d probably wanted no complications more than she did. She might as well have had a blooming one-night-stand. At least then she might have laid a few ghosts in the process.
‘Hmm, well, I wouldn’t leave it too long, if I were you,’ Alicia suggested. ‘He is rather attractive, isn’t he? Most single women of a certain age would kill for him. A few married women I know would kill their husbands for him. If you don’t bag him, he might just be tempted to go off with…’
‘In which case, he’d be a very shallow man, wouldn’t he? And I won’t have lost out on much other than a quick bonk.’
Donna humphed, took a huge slurp of wine, and choked on it.
‘Leave it, Alicia,’ Evelyn said, scrambling out of her recliner to give Donna a hearty slap on the back. ‘Donna doesn’t have to compromise her principles just because men are bound to go off with slimmer, dimmer young things, do you darling?’
Donna choked harder.
Evelyn nudged Alicia over, who shrugged and went to check on Jack.
‘So what’s he really like, this new man, hmm?’ Evelyn cajoled, wrapping an arm around Donna. ‘Trustworthy, I hope.’
‘Tall, dark and handsome,’ Alicia supplied as she rolled Sadie’s ball for her, which Sadie duly hopped after, which delighted little Jack, who clapped his podgy hands excitedly.
‘I gathered he might be. And?’ Evelyn looked expectantly at Donna.
‘Blue eyes,’ Donna imparted, after a more discreet sip of wine. ‘Really blue, you know, and kind of… twinkly,’ she said, hoping to distract Evelyn from a character assassination of Mark.
She knew her mother was only trying to be protective, her own marriage being one she’d suffered for the sake of her daughters. Their father had never been very supportive of Evelyn, complaining about the ‘state of the house’ when she’d gone back to teaching, necessarily. He drank and moaned, and — the girls suspected — womanised, and had finally given Evelyn an ultimatum. Me or the teaching. Evelyn, though, would rather have cut off her arm than her means of earning an income. Of a generation of women who’d learned to be economically independent, she’d never compromised her principles since, nor would she.
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Donna admired her, yet felt sad for her sometimes, that Evelyn seemed not to know how to let down her defences.
‘Just eyes?’ Evelyn asked, with an amused glance. ‘One would hope he has a bit more about him, Donna.’
Donna blushed as Mark’s touch, smell and feel flashed through her senses. ‘He’s got a lovely smile.’ She sighed wistfully.
‘And he wears a police uniform. What more could a girl want?’ Alicia sighed in turn, and batted her eyes.
Evelyn, though, didn’t look quite so ecstatic. ‘Does he, indeed? Hmm, almost sounds too good to be true, doesn’t he? So, does he have a name, this twinkly hunk in a uniform?’
‘Mark. Mark Evans,’ Donna supplied, droopy-shouldered.
‘Good Lord!’ Evelyn eyes shot wide. She shook her head bemusedly. ‘Well, there can’t be two of them.’
‘Two of what?’ Alicia asked, crawling after Jack, who — set loose on the world — was crawling across the floor after Sadie.
Donna eyed her mum quizzically, who seemed to have drifted off somewhere. ‘Mum?’
Evelyn snapped back to attention. ‘I know him,’ she said, a smile on her face, but her eyes troubled, which sent a tingle of trepidation down Donna’s spine.
‘You do?’ Alicia sat back on her haunches.
‘How?’ Donna asked cautiously, wondering whether Evelyn had perhaps had a run in with him, defending one of her many causes. Crikey, she hadn’t been arrested by him, had she?
‘He’s Robert Evans’ son,’ Evelyn enlightened her. ‘Dot’s next door neighbour. Small world.’
‘He lives there? With his father?’ Donna blinked, puzzled. So where did his lodger and Jody-kiss-kiss fit in?
‘No. He looks in on him. Brings his son sometimes, too.’ Evelyn glanced worriedly at Donna. ‘In fact, Dot invited them both to…’
‘His son? He has children?!’ Donna’s heart plummeted to the depths of her soul. She knew this would happen. Knew it!
Hardly able to breathe, she steeled herself to ask. As excruciatingly painful as it was, she had to know… just how many lies he had told her. ‘Is he?’ Oh, God. ‘Is he married, Mum?’
‘Good Lord, Donna?’ Evelyn stared at her, disbelieving, ‘You mean you don’t?’ She stopped, obviously noticing her daughter’s slightly demented look. ‘No. Divorced, I gather.’
Donna reached for the bottle and poured a wine. A large one. ‘No fiancés knocking about the place, then? Girlfriends waiting in the wings?’ She took a huge swig, wiped her arm across her mouth and snarled, ‘Harems queuing on the landing?’
Evelyn eyed her curiously, then tried to coax Donna to let go of her glass.
But Donna wasn’t parting with it or the bottle.
‘Donna, as far as I know, no, there are no girlfriends lurking anywhere,’ Evelyn said gently. ‘No women in his life, apart from his child-minder — Gemma, I think her name is. So, come on, darling, there’s no need for all of this over-indulgence in alcohol, is there?’
Donna sniffed, then head high and bottle hugged tight to her chest, she stood up to walk to the coffee table. Wherefrom, she picked up Mark’s mobile, selected his inbox, walked back with a slight weave, handed Evelyn the mobile — and waited.
‘Oh, I see,’ Evelyn said, reading the text with an unimpressed look on her face. ‘Thank you.’ She took a large slug from the glass Donna handed her without further ado.
****
Evelyn walked straight past Robert Evans when he opened his front door the next morning.
Mark turned from his endeavours restocking the fridge to eye her curiously as she came into the kitchen, looking purposeful. ‘Everything okay, Evelyn?’ he asked, concerned that Mrs Bruce might have had a fall or something. It was a bit early for a social call.
‘Mark.’ Evelyn nodded, marched across the kitchen, eyed him quizzically, then slapped him, hard.
‘Christ!’ Mark dropped the carton of milk he was holding. ‘What the bloody hell was that for?!’ He ran a hand across his abused cheek, and stared at her, shocked.
‘Whoa, steady on.’ His father came into the kitchen behind Evelyn. ‘You can’t just barge in here, throwing punches. What in God’s name’s got into you, woman?’
‘Don’t you woman me,’ Evelyn said, eyeballing Mark furiously. ‘For your information, that was most definitely not a punch. If it had been, he’d be flat on his back, which is where he was trying to get my daughter, I’ve no doubt.’
‘Oh, don’t be ridiculous.’ Robert scoffed. ‘Mark’s a good lad. He would never do anything to disrespect a woman.’
‘Like father, like son, you mean?’ Evelyn gave his father a good eyeballing, too, then turned back to Mark to drag a disdainful glance the length and breadth of him. ‘Running around like he hasn’t a responsibility in the world. In my day, a father worth his salt would have taken his good lad outside and given him a good thrashing.’
‘Bit old for that, don’t you think?’ Robert suggested dryly, obviously quite lucid right then. ‘Now, would you like to sit down and discuss this civilly over a cup of tea, or are you going to stand there ranting like an old witch?’
‘I don’t want tea!’ Evelyn growled. ‘I want him to move on.’
‘I’ll round up the posse. Meanwhile, I’ll put kettle on, shall I?’ Robert made gone loco eyes at his son.
Mark shook his head, glad his dad seemed not to be taking this too seriously, though the fact that he’d just been assaulted was serious in Mark’s book. If the shoe had been on the other foot, though. ‘Would that be before dawn, Evelyn?’ he asked. ‘And shall I take my responsibilities with me when I move on? It’s just that Karl’s pretty settled in this neck of the woods, you know?’
Evelyn looked contrite, albeit for one second.
‘Would you like to tell me what this is all about,’ Mark asked, much more calmly than he felt, ‘because either I’m going nuts or you are.’
‘Oh, I’m far from gaga, PC twinkly-eyed Evans, though I concede my daughter must be to have seen anything in you!’
‘Daughter?’ Mark shook his head. ‘What daughter?’
‘Do you know how I left her last night? With her confidence in tatters. You did that, Mark Evans. And after all she’s been through with that horrible little toad Jeremy. You should be ashamed of yourself.’
‘What on God’s green earth are you talking about?’ Mark asked, utterly exasperated.
‘I’d say fifteen calls to Jody-kiss-kiss and as many or more text messages in return in one week tells the tale, wouldn’t you?’ With that, Evelyn planted Mark’s missing mobile pointedly on the kitchen table, glared at him, and turned to the door.
Jesus. Mark ran his hand through his hair, realisation dawning as he stared at the phone. ‘Donna?’ he asked, disbelieving. ‘You’re Donna’s…’
‘Mother, yes.’ Evelyn turned back. ‘You’ve abused her trust, PC Evans. Lied to her. Mislead her. Broken her heart, I suspect. If you have any respect for her at all, please don’t see her again.’
****
Donna drooped downstairs a full day later, Sadie plopping tri-leggedly down after her. ‘I’ll take you out, baby,’ she promised, knowing that a leg missing here or there wasn’t about to stop Sadie wanting her walkies. She’d gotten away with taking a sick day from work, but she doubted it would wash with Sadie.
Turning to make sure the dog was safe on all threes in the hall, Donna’s puffed up eyes fell on the flashing answering machine. She chewed on her lip, hesitated, then pressed play.
‘Donna, please call me back, will you? I have to talk to you.’ Mark’s voice wrenched at her heart all over again.
That was the fourth message he’d left.
Should she ring him back? Tell him she’d read all his texts and guilt be damned, several being from Jody-kiss-kiss, whom he obviously had a close and longstanding relationship with, given the content. What time did he want her? Some of them read. Others saying, she’d see him at this time or that time, could he pick her up, drop th
em off. She was taking ‘K’ here or bringing him there, K being Mark’s son, presumably.
No, she wouldn’t ring him.
No matter what he said, however many times he apologised, at the end of the day, he hadn’t even mentioned his son, let alone Jody, whoever she was. Which obviously meant he didn’t think Donna would be a part of his life long enough to warrant him mentioning him. She was just a passing fancy he’d hoped to have sex with and no complications.
Be careful what you wish for had never been more apt than it was now.
Still, she really did have no right to judge him. Hadn’t she been ready to do just that to him? With him? Hadn’t she bought racy lacy underwear with that exact purpose in mind?
Donna’s fingers strayed to her lips. She could still taste him. How would it have been with him? She’d never know now, yet she did. He would have been gentle, and caring, and loving, she was sure, if only for a short time.
Was it possible, she wondered, to grieve the loss of a lover who never was? A man who wasn’t worth shedding a single tear over, according to her mother. Donna so hoped Evelyn didn’t ‘give him a piece of her mind’ as she’d threatened to. She’d made her promise not to. But then, the trouble with mothers is that they never stopped being mothers. Donna certainly felt like giving Jeremy a piece of her mind about his treatment of Matt.
‘Come on, Sade, let’s get some din-dins.’ Sighing, Donna padded up the hall, then almost shot through the ceiling as the phone rang again.
She walked back and squinted at the caller display. It was him. She nibbled at a thumbnail. Should she talk to him?
No. Her heart might be broken, but her spirit wasn’t. She didn’t need Mark to fix her problems. She had a life to live. A future to secure. She was going to ring the care home — one of the charitable trust’s own projects — direct, she’d decided. It couldn’t hurt. It might help to get some voluntary work under her belt. Might even be a way into a permanent position alongside her training.
Somebody to Love: Sigh With Contentment, Scream With Frustration. At Time You Will Weep. Page 9
