Guess Who I Pulled Last Night? (5 page)

If Bets had any slight desire to see him again it now
disappeared; suddenly she was impatient for him to leave.

“Listen, I really think that you should go, I’ve got work tomorrow.”

“Okay, but can I just say what a great shag you are.” 
He kissed Bets passionately, one thing that he was good at, stirring her loins
once more.  She almost changed her mind, but then remembered the old bird
comment, and pulled herself away from his growing erection.

“You can let yourself out; perhaps I’ll see you at the pool
sometime.” Bets gently pushed him away.

“Ah come on, you know you want me to stay really.”  He
started to caress Bets’ bare shoulder.

“No Gary.”  She pushed him more firmly now.

“Okay, but if you change your mind, you know where I
am.”  He sighed and started to get dressed.

“Not in your lifetime, darling,” Bets muttered, as she moved
out of the bedroom to the bathroom.

After a few minutes, above the noise of the running bath water,
Bets heard the front door close.  She heaved a sigh of relief; she had
envisaged him being there all night. 

After a soak in the bath and all trace of Gary washed away
from her skin, Bets wrapped herself in a towel and wandered back into the
bedroom.  Glancing at the clock, reading 1 a.m., she realised how tired
she and she longed for her bed.  Ten minutes later she was under the
duvet, moving around to find the warm spot from the bodies that had lain on top
of it earlier.  As she lay there Bets thought about Gary, not him
particularly, but his type; the ones that she picked up for a night of sex and
then dumped.  She sighed heavily, realising that it was all getting a
little boring now.  Kerry and Charlotte constantly told her to be careful,
which she was, and always used a condom, but Bets realised that she had been
very lucky in that she hadn’t ever picked up a complete nutter.  She knew,
however, that one day her luck could run out, and then she would be in trouble;
perhaps it was time to think about growing up a little.

When Kerry arrived home, Kelvin was still up watching T.V.

“Hi, did you have a good time?” he looked up at his wife.

Kerry leaned down and kissed him on the cheek.  “Yes,
Charlottes in a bit of a state though.”  Kerry shrugged off her jacket and
flopped down onto the sofa.

“Oh, why is that then?” Kelvin asked, as he turned off the
television.

“Someone came to see her today, who happens to know Grant.”

Kelvin winced as Kerry continued to explain what had
happened.

“Oh dear,” he said, “I bet she thought that she’d heard the
last of him.  Never mind as long as you and Bets are there for her.”

Kerry stood up suddenly and looked down on Kelvin, her hands
firmly on her hips.  “Yes, that would be right, not only do I have to make
sure that you and Esme are happy, but now I’ve got Charlotte to worry about!”

Kerry’s tone and the speed at which her mood had changed
shocked Kelvin, who shrank back into his seat.  “Hey, calm down I only
said…”

“Yes, I know that you only said Kelvin.” Kerry sat down
again, her voice now more measured.  “Don’t you think that I have enough
to worry about?” 

“Sorry, but you’ve always been there for each other, and I
just assumed…” he tried to explain.

“Well don’t assume. No one seems to think that I may have
problems.” 

“Talk to me then, what problems have you got?  I know
that you’re bored, but it won’t be long before you are back at work, if that’s
what you want?”

“Of course it’s what I want!  You would have me staying
at home having baby after baby, wouldn’t you?”

Kelvin shrugged his shoulders and sighed.  “I can’t win
can I?  Before you went on maternity leave, you kept telling me how you
hated work and wanted a change.  That was all I meant: you don’t have to
go back, and you could stay at home until you found something that you prefer.”

“Well that’s not what you said.  Anyway, everyone says
that they hate their work, but they don’t always mean it,” snapped Kerry.

Kelvin conceded defeat; he nodded and sat back in the
chair.  “No, you’re right, well whatever you want to do I’ll support you.”

“Hmm, good old Kelvin,” muttered Kerry.

“Sorry?” he looked at Kerry quizzically.

“Nothing.  I’m going to bed.  I’m going shopping
tomorrow; Mum is going to have Esme for me.”

As Kerry picked up her jacket, Kelvin looked up at her once
more.  “Shopping?  You only went today. You did food and clothes
shopping, what do you need to go again for?  Have you seen our credit card
bill lately?  It’s getting bigger by the week, Kerry.” 

“It’s not that bad; we can afford it.  I need to go,
okay!”  Kerry’s glare dared Kelvin to argue, but it was late, and he was
too tired.

“Okay, if you say you need to go, then you need to go.”

“Oh I’m going to bed,” Kerry replied.

“I’ll be up soon.”  Kelvin said, rubbing his eyes.

“Night.”  Kerry stormed out, without the usual
goodnight kiss, leaving Kelvin wondering what he had to do these days to cheer
her up.

As she sat on the edge of the bed, removing her makeup,
Kerry wondered why she was being such a bitch to Kelvin.  She knew when
she was doing it, but couldn’t stop herself.  She felt so furious and sad
inside and wanted him to feel the same way; why should she be the only one to
suffer?  She also knew that she was pushing him; a wicked part of her wanted
to see how far he would go before he snapped, before he got annoyed too and
gave her a reaction.  Why she felt like this, she didn’t know. She had
everything, but somehow it wasn’t enough.  She couldn’t be bothered with
anything, except causing a row.  A tear trickled down Kerry’s cheek as she
sat looking at herself in the mirror; it surprised her; she wasn’t expecting
tears.  Suddenly, Kerry wanted to scream and throw things about; she felt
like she did when she stubbed her toe and wanted to curse and shout just
because it made her feel better.  However, she didn’t for fear of waking
Esme.  Instead she pulled back the duvet and slipped into bed, closing her
eyes tightly and clenching her fists until her knuckles hurt, wishing for sleep
as she did every night.

Bets locked up the salon and thought with dread about the
evening ahead, tonight would be a nightmare, she knew it.  Kerry had some
silly idea that she should cook dinner for them all, joined by a couple of
mystery guests, matchmaking for her and Charlotte again no doubt.  Today
she was thirty years of age, which was bad enough, but she was also being
degraded into a blind date organised by her interfering friend.  How could
Kerry think that she was incapable of finding her own date, she could have
invited plenty of men, but obviously, Kerry didn’t trust her choice of partner
for a select dinner party?

After twenty minutes of walking through rain drizzled
streets, Bets pushed open the outer door to her apartment block to hear a voice
behind her; it was Mrs Blair, one of her neighbours.

“Hello Mrs Blair, horrible night isn’t it?” Bets said
hesitantly, not sure whether today was one of Mrs Blair’s talkative days, or
whether it was one of her barely able to say hello days.  She sighed as
Mrs Blair gave her a wide, brown toothed smile; it was a talkative day, so she
could be out here for a while.

“Hello dear, happy birthday,” replied Mrs Blair, obviously
hiding something behind her back.

“How…?”

“It was delivered this morning,” she said, revealing a brown
paper parcel.  “As I was the only one around, I thought that I’d better
take it from the Postman.  You also had a lovely big bunch of flowers
later, but I saw Charlie take those in.”

Bets nodded and smiled.  “Oh well thank you…oh it’s
from South Africa. It must be from my aunt Beryl, you say Charlie has the
flowers then?”  Charlie was the old man who lived opposite Bets, and
looked after Alfred during the day.

“Yes dear, very beautiful red roses, oh about a dozen I
would say,” Mrs Blair said, feigning disinterest.

She obviously had a good look then, nosey old devil, thought
Bets, smiley inanely. 

“Well I’d better go and get them and rescue Charlie from
Alfred, bye and thanks again.”

Bets moved off quickly, anxious that Mrs Blair didn’t strike
up any further conversation.  She rang Charlie’s bell and could instantly
hear Alfred barking on the other side of the door.

“Alright, young lad I’ll let her in…hello Elizabeth had a
good day?” Charlie gave the usual nightly greeting.

Alfred jumped up and tried to lick Bet’s face, but as he was
only short, a cross between a Bloodhound and Highland Terrier, he didn’t quite
make it and just looked like a sandy coloured piece of fluff on elastic, bouncing
up and down.

“Okay, calm down,” scolded Bets, gently pushing the dog
away.  “I believe that you’ve got some flowers for me Charlie, what will
Edna say?”  She smiled at the little man who always wore his flat cap
inside the house.

“Not a lot, she’s at her sister’s house until tomorrow,” he
tittered to himself as he shuffled into the overcrowded lounge.  “Here you
are love, one bunch of red roses; they were left on your doorstep.  I
noticed them when I took young lad out this morning, someone must have some
brass to buy those buggers.”  He handed over the deepest shade of red
roses that Bets had ever seen.

“Gosh, they’re beautiful.  Thanks Charlie, come on
Alfred let’s go home.”  Bets turned towards her front door, and then
stopped.  “Oh, by the way, I won’t be dropping him off until later
tomorrow, is that okay?  I’m not going into work until lunchtime.”

“No problem, whenever you’re ready.  Have a nice
evening then and I’ll see you tomorrow, tara now.”  With that he closed
the door.

Bets let herself into the modern airy, slightly chaotic
apartment and looked around at the clothes scattered on the sofa; magazines
piled on the coffee table and paperwork spilling out of her desk drawer.

“You know Alfred, one of these days I’m going to get
Charlotte around here to organise us a little.  Come on then let’s get you
fed and watered.” 

Alfred followed her to the utility room, at the end of the
kitchen, where he ate and slept, ready for his supper and a nap.  Once
Bets had seen to Alfred and washed up the morning’s breakfast dishes, she
realised that the roses were still not in water, but first of all, she needed
to find out whom they were from.  The card just said:

“Have a lovely birthday, and hopefully an even better
evening!”

Bets was bemused by who could have sent them. The girls at
the salon had bought her perfume and a bottle of wine.  Kerry would be
giving her theirs tonight, and Auntie Beryl had probably sent another
disgusting home knitted item of clothing.  There was no one else that she
ever had gifts from; there wasn’t even a man in the picture who could have sent
them.  She thought about it some more, as she lounged in a too hot bath,
as she put on her make up, and as she dressed in her new skinny jeans and
sleeveless shirt.  By the time she was pulling on her knee-length boots,
she was right out of ideas, and Charlotte had arrived, announcing herself with
a very loud toot on her car horn.  Bets grabbed her coat, kissed Alfred on
the nose and rushed out of the front door into the cold night air.

“Evening old girl; happy birthday sweetie.”  Charlotte
leaned across and kissed Bets on the cheek. “Ooh, you smell nice, Roberto
Cavalli?”

“Yes, the girls from work, but you’ll never guess what?”

“Don’t tell me Auntie Beryl didn’t send you a disgusting
home knit.”

“Oh yes she did, a woolly bikini,” Bets paused to allow
Charlotte to react; she did by silently mouthing a profanity.  “I’ve had
12 red roses from a mystery benefactor.  I have no idea who sent them;
they weren’t from you two were they?”  Bets looked at Charlotte
quizzically.

“No,” she said, shaking her head.  “Ours is in my
handbag, down there.  God, how exciting, but it could be a stalker, oh
dear. How scary is that?”

“Thanks Charlotte, you’ve really made me feel at ease. 
Anyway, who do you think these two mystery guests are?” Bets asked, flopping
down the vanity mirror on the sun visor to check her appearance.

“I don’t know, as long as it’s not Grant Beddows.” 
Charlotte could see the look of wonder on Bet’s face.  “I did try to ring
you last night, because obviously, you were occupied on Monday night with
Lifeguard Gary, but there was no reply.”

“Zumba,” she explained.  “Now spill!”

Charlotte began to relay what had happened on Monday
morning, paying particular attention to her description of Niall Devine. 
Bets listened intently, interrupting with the occasional “Oh my God” or “Tell
me again what he looked like”; until after fifteen minutes they arrived at
Kerry and Kelvin’s driveway.

“So he said he hoped I would be getting into my stride next
time we met.  Don’t you think that’s a bit cheeky?” Charlotte wanted
affirmation from Bets

“Well yes it is, but I have to say Charlotte you seem
angrier with an off-the-cuff comment from Mr Devine than you are about hearing
the name Grant Beddows again.  Is there something that you want to tell
me?”

Charlotte's complexion coloured slightly in the darkness.
“No, what do you mean?”

“Oh nothing,” sighed Bets, “I’m just sure that we will hear
about Mr Devine again; that's all.”

Charlotte didn’t answer, but stormed on up to the driveway,
towards the front door.  Without waiting for Bets she banged on it
furiously, a very flustered Kelvin answered.

“Hiya, come in, we’re having a bit of a disaster, I’m
afraid,” he kissed the girls on the cheeks as they entered.  “Kerry isn’t
feeling too well at the moment, so we’ve sent out for an Indian takeaway, is
that okay?”

They both nodded and looked at each other alarmingly, she
hadn’t seemed well for a while, but hadn’t wanted to do anything about
it.  Bets was the first to voice her concerns.

“What is it Kelvin, only we’ve noticed that she’s been
acting strange for weeks now.  She seems really depressed and fed up.”

“I did mention the other night that maybe she could have post
natal depression,” added Charlotte, “but I got short shrift and told it wasn’t
the time to discuss it.”

“Well it doesn’t seem as though anytime is the right time to
talk to her about anything these days,” sighed Kelvin. “Listen let’s not talk
about it now, happy birthday Bets.”  Kelvin kissed Bets on her cheek once
more, and ruffled her hair.  “I’d better introduce you to our mystery
guest, but Charlotte could I ask you a favour, could you go upstairs and see
Kerry; she's locked herself in the bathroom?”

Charlotte nodded and edged her way to the stairs as Kelvin
ushered Bets into the lounge. 

“Kerry, let me in sweetie, it’s me Charlotte,” Charlotte
called through the bathroom door.

“I know who it is; I’ve known you practically all my bloody
life.”  Kerry unbolted the door, as she dried her eyes. “You’d better come
in.”

“Kerry, what on earth is the matter?” Charlotte asked,
putting a comforting arm around her friend.

“I don’t know I just feel so sad.” She suddenly started to
sob. “Plus, I didn’t cook dinner, because I didn’t want to, and I wanted to be
hateful, but Kelvin was so nice about it, telling me not to worry a takeaway
was easy to arrange.  I shouted at my mum today, for giving Esme chocolate
before lunch, and I couldn’t get my hair straight and your date has backed out,
and oh God, I’m just so fed up!”    Kerry’s body was wracked
with sobs, as she now fought to catch her breath.

“Please, calm down.  It’s not the end of the world.
Kelvin is right, takeaway will be fine, and I don’t particularly want to be set
up with some sad old bachelor who works with Kelvin,” cooed Charlotte.

“It was Jason Conrad actually.”  Kerry blew her nose in
disgust.

Charlotte’s comforting smile collapsed into a frown. “Bloody
hell, now that is a different thing. He's gorgeous.  Anyway, as for your
mum, she will have forgotten already you telling her off, you’re always telling
her off for something, so stop being silly and stop crying.”

“But what about my hair, it looks awful?” Kerry sobbed.

Charlotte looked at Kerry’s usual neat hair, “Well, erm,
have you got something that you could tie it up with?”  She looked at her
sympathetically as Kerry started to cry again.

Ten minutes later with newly applied makeup and freshly
straightened hair, Kerry went to find Kelvin, leaving Charlotte to look in on
her Goddaughter.  She gently opened the door to Esme’s room, careful not
to make a sound, so as not to wake the sleeping child, or let everyone
downstairs hear her on the baby monitor.  Charlotte looked down on Esme, all
pink and clean and baby smelling, in her white towelling romper suit.  She
carefully picked up the baby’s hand with her forefinger, marvelling at the way
the teeny little fingers curled around hers, even in sleep.  Charlotte
watched as with each breath a small blonde curl bobbed up and down on Esme’s
cheek, suddenly Esme stirred, and she started to rub her nose furiously with
her free hand, she shook her head slightly, then as quickly as she had moved
she was still again, back into a deep sleep.  Charlotte gently unravelled
her fingers and kissed Esme lovingly on her head before going downstairs.

“Oh there you are, been peeking have you?” Kelvin asked,
smiling.

“I just thought that I’d check on her, I haven’t woken her
up,” replied Charlotte wagging a finger jokingly at Kelvin.  “Anyway,
how’s Kerry now?” she asked, placing a hand on Kelvin’s shoulder.

He looked worried as he glanced behind to check whether
Kerry was about.  “Okay I think, but can I ring you for a chat. I think
it’s time I tried to get her to go and see someone about how she is feeling,
but I think I may need to back up.”

“Why, do you think she will fight against it?” Charlotte was
really worried about Kerry, and Kelvin seemed to be confirming what she and
Bets had thought for a while; there was something wrong, and she needed help.

“I’m sure she will, aside from which I don’t seem to be able
to do anything right these days, so I thought that she might listen to you or
Bets more.”

“I wouldn’t bet on it Kelvin. I've tried to raise the
subject of post natal depression, and I know Bets has too, but we have both had
our heads bitten off.”  Charlotte smiled sympathetically as she could see
the desperation in Kelvin’s eyes.

“Oh dear,” sighed Kelvin, “but will it still be okay to
ring. We need to try to come up with something?”

“Of course it is. Kerry will be fine, you know?”

“I know,” Kelvin nodded, “but when, that’s what I want to
know.”

In the lounge, Bets was thoroughly enjoying herself, talking
and flirting with Stuart, the mystery guest. 

As she walked into the lounge Bets was surprised at how her
stomach had flipped on seeing him getting up from the sofa to greet her. 
She felt warm and happy that he was who had been brought in as her date. 
Previous meetings were merely flirtatious, quick conversations, not like
tonight; tonight they were in fact getting to know each other.  That was
another reason why Bets was so surprised that she often thought about
Stuart.  She didn’t really know him; she had always fancied him
physically, and so it was a pleasant surprise to find that in reality liked
him, a great deal.  As they chatted she was fascinated to hear about
fitness methods and the alternative diets for the various types of
sports.  Stuart was also interested in her work, asking about the types of
beauty treatments and products that she used, yet all the time they were still
flirting with each other, the wine making Bets quite daring.  Every time
she moved she edged a little closer to Stuart so that eventually both their
perfectly toned thighs were touching.  Bets was starting to feel that
familiar bubbling sensation between her legs, and she knew that tonight was
going to be the starting point of a relationship between them.