Frisky Business (12 page)

By six o’clock she was too restless to stay in bed any longer. She got up, pulled on an oversized cardigan and her boot slippers, and crept downstairs quietly so as not to wake Kit. She tiptoed into the living room and found him still fast asleep on the sofa-bed. She stood there for a moment, watching him.

God, she’d had good taste back then. He had a fierce, striking

kind of beauty. The sharp points and smooth planes of his face could have been chiselled from marble. He wore his hair very short now, and it accentuated the strong definition of his features.

It seemed surreal that he was here in her house after all these years. It was hard to believe now that they had once been inseparable – her and this virtual stranger. They had been joined at the mouth for the whole of the final year of school, spending hours on end snogging. She looked at him wonderingly, remembering long summer days, the warmth of sun-baked red brick at her back, the heat of Kit’s body pressed against hers, and frosty winter nights under the orange glow of street lights, their breath mingling in the air between them. It all seemed so sweetly innocent now.

As it didn’t look like he was going to wake up anytime soon, she finally dragged herself away and went to have a shower and get ready for the day.

‘Good morning.’ Romy was sitting in the kitchen, having coffee and leftover cake, and reading a magazine. She looked up to see Kit standing in the doorway, looking sleepy and dishevelled. He was wearing his jeans and his shirt was hanging open over them.

‘Hi!
Would you like some coffee?’ she asked, jumping up from the table and moving over to the counter to grab the pot.

‘Yes, please,’ he said, buttoning up his shirt as he moved into the room.

Romy busied herself with making fresh coffee and setting a place for him at the table. She felt unbelievably skittish and was grateful to have something to do to distract her.

‘Did you sleep all right?’ she asked him.

‘Yeah, I slept great, thanks.’ She noticed him wince slightly as he sat down at the table.

‘Is your head okay?’ She poured him a glass of orange juice and put it on the table in front of him. ‘Do you want some paracetamol?’

‘No thanks. It’ll be fine after some food.’ He grabbed the

glass of juice, draining it in one go. ‘God, how much wine did we put away last night?’

‘Quite a lot in the end – at least a bottle each.’

‘Ouch! I think I’m out of practice. You look very bright-eyed.’

‘Well, I probably had more to eat last night than you did. So, what would you like for breakfast? I could make you a fry-up, if you like.’

‘No thanks. I’ll just have what you’re having. This looks very decadent,’ he grinned, indicating Romy’s half-eaten slice of cake. ‘Do you generally have cake for breakfast?’

‘Just on special occasions.’ She placed the fresh pot of coffee on the table.

‘So what’s today’s occasion?’ he asked, pouring himself coffee as she sat down opposite him.

‘It’s … the day after Hallowe’en. The first of November!’ ‘Well, happy first of November!’ he said, clinking his mug against hers.

‘I
have normal breakfast foods if you’d prefer. There’s muesli, or I could make you toast?’

‘No, this is great,’ he said, as Romy cut him a huge wedge of cake. ‘It’s a treat. Mom doesn’t let me have cake for breakfast.’

‘Right, I forgot. Does she make you eat up your vegetables at dinner too?’

‘Yep. I have to clear my plate or I’m not allowed any TV.’ Romy giggled. ‘It must be quite hard living at home at this stage.’

‘Yeah,’ he sighed. ‘I mean Mom and Dad are great, but it’s not easy. Still, hopefully it won’t be for long.’

The microwave pinged and Romy got up and retrieved a small jug. ‘There’s butterscotch sauce to go with the cake if you want,’ she said, holding it out to Kit as she sat down again.

‘Yes please.’ He took the jug from her and poured a generous dollop of sauce over his cake. ‘Wow, this is the best breakfast ever. It’s what you dream being a grown-up will be like when you’re a kid – cake for breakfast, ice-cream for dinner …’

‘Yeah, and then when you finally do grow up and you’re

old enough to do whatever you want, you’re too sensible and you don’t want to do that stuff anymore.’

‘Sad, isn’t it?’

‘Adulthood is wasted on adults,’ she sighed.

Just then her mobile buzzed, vibrating on the table, and she picked it up, checking the message. It was her mother, saying she was on her way over with Luke and would be there in about ten minutes. She closed the message and tossed the phone back on the table. Then suddenly realisation hit her. She gasped and rose to her feet, clapping a hand to her mouth. ‘Oh my God, Mum’s on her way over!’

Kit looked up at her uncomprehendingly. ‘Well … that’s okay, isn’t it?’

‘No,
it’s not! You can’t be here!’

‘What?’ He laughed in surprise. ‘Oh, are you afraid she’ll think we shacked up last night? Just tell her I slept on the sofa. It has the advantage of being true.’ He shrugged unconcernedly and went back to his cake.

‘No!’ Romy whisked the plate away, leaving his fork hovering in midair. ‘It’s not that. ‘You just … you seriously can’t be here when she comes.’

‘Why not?’ He frowned.

‘She – she doesn’t like you.’

‘Oh, come on,’ he said, reaching to take the plate from her hand. Romy moved it farther away, extending her arm fully to hold it out of his reach. ‘That was ages ago. Let me stay and meet her and she’ll see how well I turned out.’

‘No, you have to go!’ Romy said urgently.

‘But that’s ridiculous. I’m sure you’re overreacting. I mean, it’s not as if I’m trying to defile her only daughter anymore, is it?’

‘Well … about that …’ Romy chewed her thumb, breathing shallowly.

‘What?’

‘Look, I’ll explain later,’ she said, tugging at his arm to pull him out of the chair. Fortunately, he helped her by standing up. She grabbed his jacket from the back of the chair, stuffed it into his hand and started guiding him towards the door. But it was too late. She heard a key in the door and her mother’s light step in the hallway.

‘Shit! You’ll have to hide.’ She turned Kit around and started shoving him towards her bedroom. It was like trying to push a tractor.

‘Romy?’ She spun around to see her mother standing in the doorway, carrying a sleeping Luke in his car seat. Damn!

She sighed, her arms going limp, releasing Kit. ‘Hi, Mum,’ she said defeatedly.

Her
mother’s eyes were popping out of her head as she took in Kit and the breakfast things on the table. ‘Well, well, well – Kit Masterson!’

‘Hello, Mrs Fitzgerald.’ He smiled, giving her a little wave.

She stood there, looking between Romy and Kit with a look of wonderment until her attention was drawn by Luke gurgling and stirring in his seat.

‘Well, I’m very glad to see you, Kit,’ she said, placing the car seat on the floor and bending to unstrap Luke and lift him out. ‘Better late than never, right?’ She smiled down at the wriggling baby in her arms and then walked straight up to Kit. ‘Why don’t you sit down and I’ll give him to you to hold?’

‘Oh, no, that’s not – I mean I’m not very—’

‘Go on, he won’t bite. You’ll be fine. It’s about time you two got acquainted.’ She continued to advance towards Kit, nudging him towards the chair until he had no choice but to flop down into it.

‘Oh well, all right then. Just for a minute …’ Kit looked so terrified as her mother carefully handed Luke to him that Romy was almost tempted to giggle – except this situation wasn’t funny.

‘There!’ Her mother straightened, smiling down warmly at Kit and Luke. ‘You’re a natural,’ she said encouragingly, despite the fact that Kit was holding Luke like he was a ticking bomb about to go off any second. ‘You know, he’s the spit of you,’ she continued, looking down at Kit, who thankfully had his head bent.

‘Yes, I know!’ Romy said brightly. ‘He’s the image of me.’ Kit shot her a quizzical look – probably wondering why she was behaving like a nutcase.

‘I didn’t mean—’

‘I know what you meant, Mum. But look at the time! Thanks for minding Luke, but you don’t have to hang around here
with us. Aren’t you meant to be meeting Maeve for coffee?’

‘Oh, I’ve plenty of time,’ she said, waving away Romy’s protests. ‘She’s always late anyway. So, are you home for a holiday?’ she asked Kit.

‘No, I’ve moved back – for the moment anyway.’

‘Oh, that’s great! I’m really glad to hear it.’

Romy was aware of Kit looking nervously down at Luke as if waiting for instructions about what he should do next. ‘Here, let me take him,’ she said, bending towards him, but her mother held her back.

‘Romy, you have to give Kit and Luke a chance to bond. You’ve had him to yourself for three months. Kit’s only seeing him for the first time today. You just have to give them time.’ She folded her arms, looking down fondly at Kit and Luke. ‘He’s great, isn’t he?’ she said to Kit.

‘Brilliant!’ Kit, feeling the weight of Mrs Fitzgerald’s gaze and clearly feeling something was expected of him, pulled Luke up towards his face. ‘Um … say Mama,’ he quavered uncertainly to Luke, who rolled his head around a little and gurgled, his tongue rolling out of his mouth.

‘Ma-ma,’ Kit tried again, enunciating each syllable clearly.

‘He’s only three months old, Kit,’ Romy’s mother said.

‘He’s not talking yet,’ Romy clarified.

‘Oh, is that … I mean is he … okay?’

‘Yes, it’s perfectly normal,’ Romy told him, bending and scooping Luke out of his arms, to his obvious relief.

‘I’m sorry, I don’t know much about babies,’ Kit addressed Romy’s mother.

‘Ah well, you’ve plenty of time to learn,’ she said. ‘You’ve just got some time to make up with him.’

‘But I wasn’t—’

Mrs Fitzgerald put up a hand to silence him. ‘Don’t worry, Kit,
there’ll be no recriminations from me. I know there was a pair of you in it. I’m just glad you’re here now. I’d never say anything, but I always hoped …’ she trailed off, smiling at Romy. ‘I think it’ll be the best thing for Luke, having you here.’

‘Mrs Fitzgerald, I—’

‘Call me Marian. We’re going to be seeing a lot of each other from now on, aren’t we? Okay,’ she said with a sigh, glancing at her watch, ‘I really should get going. Sorry I can’t stay longer, but I’m sure we’ll see each other again soon.’ She bent and gave a startled Kit a kiss on the forehead, kissed her daughter and grandson goodbye with a quick ‘talk later’ to Romy and strode out.

The stunned silence that followed was broken only by Luke’s intermittent gurgles.

‘What the hell was that all about?’ Kit said finally. ‘I thought you said she didn’t like me! She
kissed
me!’

‘I know. That was a bit weird.’

‘And why did she want me to hold … Whatsisface?’ he asked, waving towards Luke. ‘Why would she want me to bond with your baby?’

So many questions, and only one answer. There was nothing else for it – she was just going to have to tell him the truth.

‘Yeah, sorry about that,’ she said, holding Luke in one arm while she pulled out a chair with the other and sat down opposite Kit. ‘I have to tell you something … and you’re going to go apeshit, which is perfectly understandable.’

Kit looked freaked out. ‘Oh Christ, you’re not dying and leaving the baby to me, are you?’

‘What?’ Romy spluttered with laughter. ‘No! God … of course not, you dope.’

‘Good. Phew! That’s a relief.’

‘That
I’m not dying or that you’re not getting the baby in my will?’

‘Both,’ he grinned.

‘Not that you wouldn’t be the obvious choice, of course. If I was dying and looking to leave Luke with someone, the first person who’d spring to mind would be that bloke I went out with in school who I haven’t seen in yonks.’

‘Okay, okay. I just panicked. So …?’ He looked at her expectantly.

She took a deep breath. ‘The thing is … it’s just – Mum thinks … shethinksyou’reLuke’sfather.’ She thought if she said it really fast it might go better, like ripping off leg wax.

‘She …
what?
Why on earth would she think that?’