‘Da trouble wiv muvver, is she got da bad luvver,’ Matt rapped — badly, as he passed the kitchen from the lounge. ‘He’s causin’ bovver. And she don’t want none of it. Check it.’
‘Ye-es.’ Donna rolled her eyes, then attempted to relieve Findus of her other trainer. ‘Any, Matt. She doesn’t want any of it.’
‘Yo, right on, sista.’ Matt did the pointy-thing with his finger and headed for the stairs. ‘Catchya lata. I’m off.’
‘Off where?’
‘Meeting Dad.’
Donna gawked. Good God, had neglect of his son finally tugged on Jeremy’s guilt gene? ‘When?’ she asked, plucking up Findus plus trainer and dashing after him, incredulous.
‘About an hour. Up at Hanbury Pool Farm. He doesn’t have any business appointments until later, he said, so he’s helping…’ Matt trailed off, apparently lost for her name.
‘Leticia,’ Donna supplied in preference to Twiglet.
‘Yeah, Leticia, that’s it.’ Matt nodded and headed on up the stairs. ‘He’s helping her put her horse through its paces.’
‘How awfully spiffing of him,’ Donna muttered. ‘I do hope she doesn’t fall off and flatten her facelift.’
‘Claws, Mother,’ Matt called. ‘We’re going to PC World after.’
‘PC World? For what?’ Now Donna was really incredulous. The only time Jeremy had ever ventured into PC World was to buy a new business PC.
‘PlayStation 3.’ Matt tripped back down, wearing his all-important outdoor accessory — his iPod. ‘Belated birthday present he said. So…’
‘Cool. Go for it.’ Donna smiled encouragingly, but she couldn’t help wondering. She nuzzled Findus around the lace hanging spaghetti-like from his mouth… would Jeremy actually live up to his word and go shopping with his son? Spend money on his son?
****
Donna got off the bus in the town centre an hour later and turned towards the doctor’s surgery. She hadn’t been seated next to the local loony after all. Her luck must be changing, she thought optimistically. Or not.
She froze in her tracks. There, coming towards her, if her astonished eyes weren’t mistaken, was Mark. And he was with someone else. Donna gulped back her tonsils. A female someone else.
Sh… ugar! Donna immediately tried to blend with a handily placed post box, peering over it, sidestepping around it, as Mark continued towards her… walking a dog? Wonderful. The family-flipping-pet he forgot to mention, presumably.
She snuck another peek as he passed. It was a Labrador, with a harness on, which might possibly mean it was a guide dog.
Oh? Donna felt a bit guilty, then pulled herself up. No, she did not feel guilty. The girl Mark was with, a slim, sunny sort, with silken blonde hair — Donna suddenly felt extremely blonde-ist — was smiling away, throwing him coquettish little glances. And he didn’t look too miserable either. This was obviously her, then, Jody-flipping-kiss-kiss.
The absolute… pig! How dare he be strolling about with her in broad daylight, having just broken her heart! Donna peered around the box again, practically elasticated herself around it, and then… Twang… snatched her head back as someone coughed behind her.
Hell! Donna arranged her face, rather surprised, as she turned around. ‘Good God, Mark! Well, well, fancy seeing you here.’
‘Donna, how are you?’ Mark glanced awkwardly between her and the Sunsilk advert at his side.
‘Oh, you know, not too, bad, considering.’ Donna smiled, like an imbecile. ‘I was just posting a letter.’ She waved a hand at the post box she’d almost morphed with and wished she were slimmer, first-class letter weight preferably.
‘Oh, right,’ Mark said, looking hugely embarrassed. ‘Donna, do you think we could — ‘
‘I’ll take your jacket to the station,’ Donna blurted.
‘Sorry?’ Mark looked confused.
‘Your jacket. You left it in my bedroom,’ Donna reminded him, emphasis on the bedroom, which might give his girlfriend pause for thought.
Trying though she was not to metamorphose into a green-eyed monster, this really was too much. Did he have to look so heart-stoppingly handsome, even with guilt written all over his face?
And did Jody whoever-she-was have to be so cat-walkishly stunning, she thought miserably, as the girl glanced confusedly from her to Mark.
And did they both have to be holding onto the dog’s reins as if it were their blooming baby? She glanced down at it, noted the Assistance Dog in Training logo on its harness and realised it was a guide dog.
So what was Mark doing with it? Was it something to do with his work? A sniffer dog in disguise, possibly? It was quite clear the girl by Mark’s side didn’t need any assistance, in any department.
Forcing her mouth into a smile, Donna looked interestedly at her. ‘So, you must be?’
‘Oh, sorry, this is Sally,’ Mark finally introduced her, raking his free hand over his neck and looking as if he’d quite like to stuff himself in the post box. ‘She’s an Assistance Dog Trainer. Sally, this is Donna, my, er, friend.’
One who wasn’t feeling too friendly, Donna would like to have added. So this was Sally, then. Not Jody. Jolly good. He had got a harem.
‘Nice to meet you, Sally.’ Donna forced another smile. ‘Right, well, I’d better get off. I have an appointment.’ She turned quickly away, before her treacherous eyes gave the game away.
‘Donna,’ Mark called behind her. ‘Donna, please wait. I…’
‘Can’t, sorry. Late,’ Donna called back over her shoulder. ‘Bye, Mark. Nice seeing you.’
But not very nice. Donna watched from the foyer of the surgery, Mark offering some explanation to Sally, raking his hand through his hair as he did, which might indicate he was flustered.
Not half as flustered as she was. Donna watched on. Mark and Sally walk towards Mr Chang’s Chinese Restaurant. Go into Mr Chang’s Chinese Restaurant, Mark holding the door for her. Such a gentleman.
Donna waited a minute more before going on into the surgery. Pinching the bridge of her nose, she found, forced back the tears quite well.
****
Donna felt the walls closing in as she waited for the bus to take her to work. Metaphorical walls, but they were there just the same, pressing in on her, causing that same panicky, suffocating feeling she’d experienced after losing her second child.
That hadn’t happened in a long time.
Why does assertiveness desert you when you’re sitting in front of a doctor, she wondered, climbing distractedly onto the bus, sitting down, then trudging back to pay the driver. She had a brain, so why hadn’t she asked him for more information on whatever it was he didn’t think she had anything to worry about, but wanted to get her along to the hospital for nevertheless, so they could have a good look at her just in case.
Because she didn’t really want to know, Donna suspected. What she wanted to do was to pop her head in the sand and drag her body in after it. She wasn’t even sure she wanted anyone else to have a good look at her. She was beginning to wish she hadn’t gone at all, walking in with a heavy heart after seeing Mark, then walking out with an even heavier one.
Chapter Nine
Mark came downstairs wishing to hell he didn’t have to back go on duty. Taking a sick day wasn’t on though, not when he’d already had so much time off for emergencies.
He went into the kitchen to find Jody loading the washing machine. ‘No need to do that, Jody,’ he said, grateful nevertheless. ‘I know I’m a single dad, but I have just about got the hang of the electrical appliances.’
Jody laughed. ‘The trouble with single dads is they think they’ve got something to prove.’
‘Oh, yes, and how many single dads do you know?’ Mark grabbed the half sandwich Karl had left before Jody binned it. With no time for lunch, his stomach was beginning to think his throat had been cut.
‘One’s enough,’ Jody assured him. She was smiling, but Mark did wonder how she did it sometimes, made some order of the ch
aos their lives were. Yes, she was trained. But it took a pretty special person to take on Karl with his inevitable tantrums on a day-to-day basis. He was damn lucky to have found her.
‘Thanks, Jody,’ he said, in between mouthfuls. ‘Don’t know what I’d do without you.’
‘No trouble.’ Jody assured him, then scowled. ‘You’ll have indigestion. You should sit down and eat.’
‘Yes, Mother.’ Mark saluted. ‘I’ll bear it in mind next time.’
‘Go on.’ Jody waved him off, as if she were his mum. ‘You’ll be late.’
‘Tell me about it.’ Mark sighed. ‘I’ll just check on Karl. Run through things with him again.’
‘Again?’ Jody eyed him curiously.
‘Yes, well, you know.’ Mark shrugged. ‘Hope something sticks.’
He headed for the door, then hesitated. ‘You will ring me, won’t you? If there’s a problem, I mean.’
‘There won’t be.’ Jody set about clearing up the kitchen. ‘And you know I’d ring you if there was.’
Mark raked his hand through his hair. ‘Right. Good.’ He started again for the door. ‘You know I’m…’
‘On cell-watch duty.’ Jody finished. ‘Yes, Mark, I know. If I can’t get you on your mobile, I’ll ring the station if there’s a problem. Now go, or there won’t be any point in going.’
‘I’m gone.’ Mark laughed and headed for the lounge.
Karl was kneeling on the floor, lining up his cars in order of colour and size as usual, never the random disorder of child’s play.
‘Hey, Karl, how’s it going?’
Karl said nothing, his gaze intent on his endeavours.
Mark collected the sheaths of paper and photographs he’d left on the coffee table, along with the ceramic dog, which Karl seemed to have become attached to. ‘Karl, do you remember we talked about Starbuck coming?’ he asked, crouching down by his son’s side.
‘Jupiter,’ Karl said, driving his Jupiter Fireman Sam engine up against an identical one.
‘That’s right.’ Mark reached for another fire engine to park alongside it. ‘Three Jupiters.’
Karl studied them, his expression unflinching.
Mark parked the ceramic dog to the side of the trio of engines. ‘And what’s this, Karl?’
‘Dog,’ Karl said, after a second, and moved the dog to a space of its own.
‘That’s right.’ Mark nodded. ‘And this?’ He showed Karl some of the drawings they’d worked on together, depicting a dog, which actually looked more like a cat, but crucially it was black in colour, like Starbuck.
Karl studied the drawing, unblinking. ‘Dog,’ he decided, placing the drawing in the new ‘dog’ area.
‘Good boy.’ Mark hesitated, then ruffled his hair, though he knew Karl couldn’t relate to affection. ‘And this, Karl.’ he held up a photo of Starbuck and held his breath. ‘What’s this?’
‘Dog.’ Karl said immediately, took the photo and plonked it alongside the other two items.
Mark breathed out. ‘Well done, Karl. That’s right. Starbuck. He’s going to be your new friend.’
Karl didn’t answer. He couldn’t comprehend, Mark knew. He had no idea what friendship was, but the ice was broken, that was the main thing. Karl seemed to accept the idea of a dog. Mark just prayed he accepted him in the actual fur, and that maybe Starbuck would become a friend of sorts, provide at least companionship for his son. Mark couldn’t help feeling that Karl must be lonely in his isolation.
****
Donna came through the door, reference books and her all-important application form under her arm. ‘Babe! How are you my gorgeous beauty, hmm?’ She plonked her books on the hall cupboard, bent to give Sadie a hug, glanced at the phone, then carried on up the hall.
No more messages, then? No surprise. Mark had obviously moved on. Well, she’d just move on, too, despite her heart being almost too heavy to drag around.
She should make some calls, she supposed. Let her mum and Alicia know how her doctor’s appointment had gone. She didn’t want her mum fussing and worrying though, which she was bound to do. And as much as she loved them, she certainly didn’t want them turning up on her doorstep tonight. She wanted to chill, fill in her form, take a long bath, and she wouldn’t do any of that if they did.
‘Evening, Mother, beautiful, dearest. I’m wonderful, thank you. But then, you already know that,’ Matt said, plodding down the stairs.
Donna waited before proceeding upwards, ever mindful of tempting fate. ‘Bit early for you to emerge, isn’t it?’ she asked him. ‘Has the Internet gone down?’
‘Sarcasm, Mother, is the lowest form of wit,’ Matt informed her piously. ‘For your information, I’ve finished my English assignment, put the washing on and tidied my room.’ He shot her his best “offended” look as he headed for the front door.
‘Good Lord, you’re definitely ill.’ Donna dashed after him to feel his forehead. ‘And if you’re not, you will be now you’ve tackled the black-hole without the aid of an oxygen mask.’
‘Very droll, Mother. Remind me not to be helpful again sometime.’
‘Sorry, Matt.’ Donna looked suitably apologetic. ‘Just ignore me. I’m having one of those… lives.’
‘Tell me about it.’ Matt sighed, looking rather dejected, actually, Donna noticed as he reached for his Bench cap and jacket.
‘Oh, dear, problem?’ she enquired casually.
‘Nah.’ Matt shrugged and glanced at his feet.
‘Your dad wasn’t late, was he, by any chance?’ Donna asked, directly.
‘Nah,’ Matt said, with another shrug. ‘Didn’t show.’
Didn’t show?! The absolute… ‘Well, ahem,’ Donna cleared her throat of a certain word beginning B, ‘I’m sure there was a good explanation.’ She tried to salvage her son’s pride, hoping to God that Jeremy had even bothered to offer one.
Apparently not. Matt’s wounded expression said it all.
‘We’ll get you the PlayStation,’ Donna said, resolute.
‘No, we won’t,’ Matt said, equally resolute. ‘We can’t afford it.’
‘Where there’s a will, there’s a way, Matt. We’ll hold a car boot sale, or sell something on eBay.’
‘Like what? Matt enquired, looking none too convinced. ‘Your body, again?’
‘Well, that should buy us a fuse for the plug.’ Donna smiled, hoping to cajole Matt into doing the same.
Matt’s mouth twitched up at the corners. ‘The whole plug, I reckon.’ He glanced down, again. ‘It’s not about the PS3, Mum, you know?’
‘I know.’ Donna tugged his cap up, sure he had a face under there somewhere. ‘It’s not that he doesn’t care, Matt. It’s just that…’
‘He’s a prat,’ Matt finished. ‘Must be to have messed with you. I’m off,’ he said, while Donna debated whether to defend Jeremy or leave Matt to his opinion based on the evidence.
‘Where?’ she asked, deciding on the latter — based on leopards and spots and the fact that Jeremy would never change.
‘Just to Ed’s to download some stuff. See you later.’
‘See you later. And thanks for all your hard work, Matt. It’s nice to have a son who rates me enough to care.’ Donna gave him a hug, a quick one lest he die of embarrassment.
Then almost fainted when Matt gave her a hard hug back. ‘You all right, Mum?’ he asked, having squished her to within an inch of her life.
‘Yes,’ Donna assured him. ‘Apart from the dead car, of course, and the decision what to wear when I advertise my body on e — ‘
‘Mum, I’m not daft. I’m talking about Mark and you.’
‘Ah, um, yes, well…’ Donna glanced away now.
‘So, have you definitely split?’
Donna sighed. Matt did have a right to know, she supposed. ‘I think so, yes.’
‘You should think again,’ Matt advised her manfully. ‘He was kind of all right, you know.’
‘Yes. And he’s into Star Trek and The Simpsons,’
Donna replied flippantly, because she didn’t know how else to. ‘In fact, I’d say you two were an ideal couple.’
‘Mum, be serious.’ Matt looked as serious as he could for a teenager in a Homer Simpson Rub-My-Tummy tee shirt.
Oh, dear. He obviously had bonded with Mark — in the absence of any other male role model, Donna supposed.
‘You should get out more. Give him a run for his money,’ Matt went on, apparently clued up on the subtleties of the dating game. ‘Come out with me and my mates to Images and have a good bop.’
Ye-es. She had had Matt quite young, but Donna wasn’t sure she’d pass for his older sister nowadays. ‘Don’t be daft,’ she replied, flattered, nevertheless, that her son wouldn’t be ashamed to be seen out in public with his mad mother.
‘You’d have a great time,’ Matt assured her. ‘And the disc jockey’s a granddad, so it’s not like you’d have no one to talk to.’
‘Thank you, Matt. I feel so much better now.’ Donna’s temporarily bolstered self-esteem clanged to the floor.
‘Catchya lata.’ He laughed.
‘Not if I catch you first.’ Donna warned him as he nipped out of the door.
Right. She waited until he was out of sight, then dialled Jeremy’s number. He was bound to have some feeble excuse for letting Matt down, yet again, which by the very feebleness of it, she couldn’t impart to Matt, but Donna would feel a hell of lot better for imparting to Jeremy how she felt.
‘Hello, Natasha,’ she said, when the Twiglet picked up. ‘Oh, sorry. I’m going senile, I swear. She was the one before you, wasn’t she?’ Donna paused, effectively. ‘Can I speak to Jeremy, please?’
‘I’ll see if I can find him,’ Leticia informed her coolly. ‘He’s in the cellar checking his barrels.’
He’ll be checking his balls when I get hold of him, Donna thought furiously. ‘Thank you,’ she said sweetly, preferring Leticia to think her unperturbed by the obvious flaunting of her old-monied wealth.
Somebody to Love: Sigh With Contentment, Scream With Frustration. At Time You Will Weep. Page 11
