Did The Earth Move? (21 page)

Michelle had come long minutes ago, when she was straddled over him and he was really hard and grasping inside her, when she'd felt him push up and up. She'd run her tensed hands over his lovely stomach, then down to his protruding hip bones and thrown her head back, feeling his fingers squeeze hard over her breasts. 'Yes, yes, yes ... oh yes, yeeeeees, oh Joe, yes.'

And still he'd ground away under her, up, down, up, down, trying to get some traction in the relaxing, softening wetness.

She'd bent down over him, so she could lick his ear, nipples brushing over his chest, and urge: 'Come baby, come baby,' reaching under his buttocks to knead them and thrust him in. But she could already feel him start to deflate and grow softer until he slid out altogether.

'Oh, Christ,' he groaned and opened his eyes to see her hurt, angry face over his. 'What is the matter with you?' she demanded.

What indeed? She was lovely. Honey hair framing her face, lean honey-blond arms and legs parted over him. He could feel her wet pubic hair resting heavily on his. He looked at the breasts balanced just in front of him and struggled to sit up and suck at a nipple.

'Oh, don't bother,' she said, pushing his face away.

'I love you,' he said. 'I'm sorry, I don't know what this is about.'

There was a long silence, just the two of them breathing, eyes averted from each other, thinking through a cluster of confused thoughts, before she blurted out: 'You don't want this, do you? You can't want it.'

He didn't know what to say in reply, he honestly didn't know any more.

'Every time we've made love since you said we could start trying for a baby, you haven't been able to come. I don't need to be Brain of Britain to work out what's going on,' she said. It was true. It
was
obvious. And he just didn't know where to go from here. Or, more like, where to
come
from here.

She swung one long leg over, so she could move off him, and faced him now with her arms crossed over her breasts.

'You don't want me enough, Joseph,' she told him angrily. 'You don't want us to start a family and you can't get that bloody woman out of your head.'

He didn't know what to say. It was complicated

... It was Eve, it was Anna and Robbie, it was Michelle ... it was him. He had
two
children. It was as if this had only just become a reality for him. He had just come back from London, to Michelle who had told him within about half an hour – the very expensive diamond flashing on her hand as she waved it about in excitement – that the Italian hotel she'd wanted for the wedding was available, that she just needed a deposit cheque to secure it... oh and thank goodness he was back in time because tonight was a very good night for ...
trying.

He'd acted the happy guy. He'd looked through the hotel brochure – although they still hadn't had another conversation about whether or not his children would be allowed to come to this wedding – he'd let himself be led to the bedroom, although he was really tired, and somewhere in the back of his mind were all the doubts, worries and troubles which were now spilling out to the fore.

He wasn't ready for another baby. Things were quite complicated enough with Robbie.

And then Eve ... what the hell was that stuff going on there that night when . . . ? Should he really be marrying Michelle just yet? Maybe this was all way too fast.

'Haven't you got anything to say?' she was asking him furiously now.

'Of course I do, Michelle,' he told her. 'But it's difficult to explain without hurting you. I don't want to hurt you...' He stroked just once, gently down her face.

'Are you still in love with her?' Michelle's hands were gripped tightly to her upper arms.

'I don't think so. But I miss my children. I really miss them.' He detected just the slightest of cracks in his voice and tried to clear his throat.

'Poor Joe,' she said and put an arm round his shoulder. "That's why we need a baby of our own. A new family for you and me to belong to.'

'Michelle. I can't just drop the other two and start from scratch. They need a dad too. Are you really going to be able to share me with them?' His voice was low, barely above a whisper, but she caught every single word.

'You should never have gone down to babysit,' she said, snatching her arm back from him, 'I knew this was going to be a mistake. She's trying to get you back, trying to get you to feel sorry for her.'

He wanted to laugh at this: 'Eve?' he heard himself ask. 'Sorry for her? She's the most together person I know and anyway, she's got everyone.' He felt the choke at the edge of his voice again.

Something in Michelle's face changed with this and he knew he'd said far too much.

'Me? Or her? Joseph. It's your choice.'

'Oh don't be so melodramatic. There is nothing going on between me and Eve, hasn't been for years,' and he felt his face flush because this was now a lie.

'I'm going to be her friend,' he told Michelle. 'I'm going to be really involved with the children. Maybe it's you who needs to make the choice, Michelle? Me with my kids or not at all.'

'And what about our kids, Joe? Where do they fit in?' she shouted back at him.

'I don't know,' he said, 'I don't know the answer to any of this.' He was now feeling as deflated as the damp and shrivelled-up penis between his legs.

'Well fuck you.' She got off the bed and his heart sank with the ugly, ugly words he hated to hear her say. 'Fuck you, Joseph—' she wrenched open the drawer and began to tug on underwear and a T-shirt, 'I'm 27, I want to get married, I want to start a family. If you're not up for it, I'll have to find someone else who is.'

'Look, it's late,' he said as soothingly as he could, 'Maybe we should sleep on this and talk about it again in the morning.'

'No!'
She was brushing away furious tears as she yanked on jeans and boots, then snatched up her phone, her keys and her handbag: 'I've got to get out of here,' she shouted, 'What is the point?'

She slammed the wardrobe door as hard as she could, tears streaming down her face now. 'I'm going to move out, Joe... I'm serious. I just don't see any point. What is the fucking point?'

'Michelle!' He got out of bed now and fumbled to tie on his dressing gown.

'Just
fuck off.'
She waved a hand in the air and there was a faint tinkling, rolling noise, then the bedroom door slammed shut behind her.

He sat down on the bed. He couldn't think of anything he wanted to say to her to bring her back. Maybe he should just let her go. The only thing he was sure of at this moment was the huge doubt in his mind... he didn't know if he would ever be as happy with Michelle as he had once been with Eve.

But where the hell did that leave him? Stuck in a place from which there didn't seem to be any going back or any going forward.

He ran a hand over the baseboard of the cherrywood sleigh bed . . . with the newly laundered Irish linen sheets. He took in the architect-designed wardrobes, the polished oak floorboards, the outrageously expensive Danish-design lamp on the bedside table. It was all crap. He was still just himself, not any better, not any more important, not any more powerful or intelligent, or knowledgeable for all this stuff.

And, even worse, this flat didn't feel like home. Had never felt like home. This place was just temporary... a beautifully designed pose... something he'd thought he could do for a while before he finally went back home. And home was still the chaotic little place where tea bags were composted, walls were covered in Blu-Tack and there was always a slightly strange mix of smells like onion soup and lavender.

Oh God. It was far too late... she would never forgive him. And there was someone else for her too ... And poor Michelle.

'I've completely fucked up,' he said out loud. 'How is any of this going to work out?' It was also just occurring to him what that strange tinkling, rolling sound was: the noise a heavy three diamond and platinum ring might make as it hits a wooden floor and rolls away.

It served him right. It really did. He was never going to fall asleep now. He went into his sleek, black and marble kitchen, clicked on the Starck kettle and wondered exactly when he had turned into such a selfish prat.

'OK Robbie, that's enough.' Eve took the little index finger off the bell and they listened to the clump, clump, clump of footsteps coming down the hall to meet them. The door swung open and there was Tom grinning, saying hello, squatting down to hug Robbie, and they were all ushered into the flat.

Eve, carrying a parcel of home-made treats, could tell she had walked straight into a big scene. Deepa was huddled into a corner of the sofa looking stormy and Tom was being all awkward and twitchy.

'Just sit yourselves down, wherever you like. I'm going to put the kettle on – and hide!' This was meant as a little jolly-along for Deepa, but she just stared at him and didn't make any reply.

'Come and chat.' Tom directed this at Anna and she got up with Robbie in tow and followed him out of the room.

'Sorry about this,' Deepa said when she was left alone with Eve. 'We're in the middle of a big fight.'

'D'you want us to come back another time?' Eve asked her.

'No, no, don't be silly,' Deepa said and then she was in tears.

'Oh... silly me...' she was sort of gulping and sniffing. 'Hormones, isn't it? You're supposed to go completely bonkers by the end and I'm not even there yet.'

'Hey, it's OK,' Eve soothed. 'You're allowed to shout, scream, cry, change your mind, eat bananas dipped in Marmite .. . whatever helps to get you through.'

Deepa managed a little smile at this and was maybe about to say something else when the doorbell rang again.

'That's my mum,' Deepa explained. 'We invited her for tea as well.' Deep sigh, lip wobble.

'Is there anything we can help with? Mums are good... try us.'

'I don't know ...'

Tom was opening the front door now with his cheeriest sounding hello.

'Kama, come in – lovely to see you. You remember Anna and Robbie, don't you?'

Eve went out into the hall to say hello and then engineered mothers and little children to the kitchen and Tom back into the sitting room to Deepa.

In the tiny kitchen she and Kalna chatted and fussed over teapots, mugs, the splash of milk left in the fridge.

'Deepa is going to have to get more organized when the baby is here,' Kalna scolded, shaking the almost empty carton.
And other things not to say to your daughter right now.

'She's got a lot on her plate. It's probably Tom who needs the boot in the bum,' Eve was quick to point out.

'Well, she'll soon give him that,' Kalna laughed. 'Once they know each other a bit better.'

Eve liked Deepa's mother and the feeling was mutual, which pleased them both. When the two families had met for the first time, in the slightly fraught circumstances which came in the wake of the unexpected pregnancy and marriage announcements, the mothers had hit it off straight away, because they both recognized immediately that they were the same kind of devoted mummies, secretly gleeful at the prospect of a grandchild.

Especially Kalna who had two much older, unmarried daughters all caught up with their medical careers who, in her words 'looked very unlikely to produce'. So, Deepa had found her parents' reaction to her baby and wedding news unexpectedly cheerful after the brief period of shock and disapproval had worn off.

'I think they are having a bit of a row,' Eve confided to Kalna.

'What about?' Anna piped up. Oooops.

'Oh I don't think it's anything serious, honey.'

'Pre-wedding nerves,' was Anna's verdict.

'Come on, Anna, you take the mugs and let's go find out.' Kalna picked up the teapot and tray of cakes and gave Eve an infectiously wicked smile.

It turned out to be the wedding, which was just five weeks away now. They'd both gone off the idea – not of getting married, but of the traditional white wedding they had arranged. Tom had never been too hot on it all. But now Deepa had changed her mind.

'I'm going to look ridiculous . . . look at me,' she sobbed over her tea to the two mothers. 'And the hotel is so boring . . . And I don't like the church either ... or the vicar. It's all just really stupid and it's just totally not what Rich and Jade would do, is it?' Big sob here.

'Forget about them,' Tom told her, beside her on the sofa now, stroking her hand.

'But it's supposed to be about us... And none of this is us.'

Tom looked up at Eve and raised his eyebrows in a slightly helpless kind of way.

'What would you like, Deeps?' This from Anna who was sitting on the carpet at Deepa's feet.

'Oh it just sounds silly. I'm a big fat, stupid, pregnant girl who needs to get married in a rush .. . None of the things I want can get sorted out in time.'

'Just tell us anyway,' Tom soothed, not at all angry about this any more.

And so Deepa told them, stopping once in a while to dab at her eyes and blow her nose with the big damp balls of hankie she was holding in both hands. 'I want to get married in a field, in the afternoon with home-made vows as well as the real ones ... and have a pink tent with lots of pink flowers and a pink cake . . .' She broke into tears here, but after a little patting from Tom, she managed: 'And lots of dancing in the open air while the sun comes down . . . and home-made food and everyone just really relaxed and . . . happy for us. And Tom,' she looked up at him, her face all puffed up and tear-stained: 'You won't have to wear a suit if you don't want to.'

He kissed her on the nose: 'It sounds lovely, but we're not going to be able to rearrange everything now.'

Kalna and Eve looked at each other a little bit misty-eyed. A little bit fierce and determined.

This is obviously how the fairy godmother felt when she pitched up in Cinderella's kitchen, Eve thought.
Deepa, you shall go to the ball!

'How long have we got?' Eve asked.

'Five weeks,' Kalna answered her.

'Field, tent, obliging vicar, lots of food, servers, DJ, flowers ...' Eve was ticking things off on her fingers. 'Can the other wedding be cancelled?'

'We'd only lose the deposit... no big deal,' Kalna told her.

'Are you serious?' Deepa was asking them. 'What about Dad?'

'Oh, leave him to me,' her mother said, as if she cancelled weddings every day. 'Now, if we divide things up between the four of us ...'

'Denny will help,' Tom added, suddenly all bouncy with enthusiasm. 'He's always location scouting for photos, he'll help us find something.'

'OK, so between the five of us...' Kalna looked absolutely calm, just as she had when they'd been organizing things for the first time.

Pens and papers were coming out of drawers now, the Yellow Pages came down off the shelf, Denny was phoned. A rush of excitement was on the loose.

'I wonder what Dennis will make of all this?' Tom said to Eve at some point.

'Dennis?' She was startled by this because she usually managed to keep thoughts of the impending Dennis reunion at the very back of her mind.

'He's going to be here in three weeks' time. Have I told you that yet?' Tom gave a distracted shrug, shuffle of hair.

'No!
You bloody have not,' she replied.

'Yeah. He's here first on business. Then his family are joining him the week before the wedding.'

'Right... three weeks' time?'

'Yeah. August the 7th.'

Why did she feel so panicky? Why did she want to shout:
'NO, NO... I'm not ready
... I
need to get myself together ...be much stronger...be able to cope with this ... be able to face him down'?

Stupid woman. She told herself off. Get a grip. She put a hand on Anna's ponytail and felt reassured.

Maybe Anna would know how to handle this. Maybe she had a book about it.