Megan 3 (13 page)

‘I dunno,’ I said, screwing up my face. ‘I don’t know what he’s like really. He’s one of those people you can’t put your finger on.’

‘An estate agent type, all mouth and trousers?’ Mark asked.

I grinned. ‘Yeah, a bit like that. Fine upstanding citizen sort of thing, always in a suit.’

‘Good bloke? Funny?’

‘Well, at first he was. Not funny, exactly, but jolly with us and talking about us being a proper family. Then as soon as he had his feet under the table he started changing, making comments about Jack being naughty and getting in digs about him never sleeping. And a couple of times he’s really lost his temper.’

‘With you?’

‘With Jack.’

‘
With Jack
?’ Mark repeated, frowning.

‘Ellie and I think he resents us. He’d rather have Mum all to himself.’

Mark shrugged. ‘Par for the course, that is – but I don’t like people who lose their tempers with babies. That’s not good.’

I sighed. ‘I know. I feel all mixed-up about it, really. I mean, things are much easier – shopping, for instance, and George can do stuff round the house, but I just don’t like him. The thought of living with him in his own house! I mean, this place is Mum’s and it’s difficult, but the new place will be
his
and Mum’s.’

‘Hmm,’ Mark said. ‘You’ll just have to take it
slowly, I guess. Living with someone for the first time is always difficult. So they say.’

‘And he’s got kids already. A boy and a girl. I’ve never heard that he’s been to see them, though. I wonder how they feel about that.’

‘Abandoned, I should think,’ Mark said in a level voice. ‘That’s the word.’ He went all quiet.

I gave him a push. ‘It’s not like
you
. You weren’t abandoned.’

‘Wasn’t I?’

‘Lorna didn’t just go off and leave you without a thought. She spent ages worrying about what would be best for you, and crying about it and thinking about it.’

‘Right,’ he said.

I put my hand on his arm. ‘Mark, honestly. She couldn’t be more sorry. She feels terribly guilty about it. She told me she’d do anything to turn the clock back.’ This drew no response so I added, ‘She really, really loves you.’

‘Yes, well …’ Mark said. He rested his chin on Jack’s head.

‘And she
did
do the best for you, didn’t she? You had a good childhood and you get on great with your mum and dad, don’t you?’

‘That’s not the point. Would you part with Jack? Ever?’

I shook my head. ‘It was different in those days, though.’

‘So you say.’

‘She’d love to see more of you,’ I persisted. ‘Hasn’t she asked you to go up there?’

He nodded.

‘It would make her week… make her
century
if you did. I wish you would.’

‘I’ll see,’ he said. He looked at his watch. ‘I’d better go. I’m covering an author visit to the library this evening.’

‘What have you got to do?’

He stood up. ‘Well, it’s not exactly hold the front page stuff – just take a photo of some famous old trout opening the new crime bookshelves.’

I stood up to go to the door with him. ‘Ellie will kill me when she finds out she’s missed you again.’

‘Tell her I’ll come over next week specially to see her. And I might see you one morning before that – OK?’

‘OK.’ I grinned. I’d told Mark about Mr Creep and he said he’d come along on one of our journeys, just to show him that I wasn’t all alone in the world.

‘How’s the bloke who was chatting you up, by the way?’

‘Jon?’ I shook my head. ‘Nothing to report. He was supposed to come and take me out but he didn’t.’

Mark gave me a smacker of a kiss on the cheek. ‘Never mind. Jack still loves you,’ he said.

As I opened the front door, Ellie practically fell into our hall. It was only the fact that she was hanging on to Jamie which prevented her.

‘Ah, now you can see Ellie
and
her boyfriend,’ I said to Mark, grinning.

‘He’s not a boyfriend!’ Ellie said. She dropped her arms from around Jamie’s neck. ‘I didn’t know you were here,’ she said, flustered.

‘See, you’d have seen Mark if you’d come straight home from school like a good girl,’ I said, ‘with no snogging on the way,’ I added in an undertone.

‘Shut up!’ she hissed at me.

‘So this is your not-boyfriend, is it?’ Mark said. ‘And there’s me thinking you were saving yourself for me.’

Jamie disappeared with a ‘See you,’ and Ellie never even glanced after him. ‘Oh, don’t go. Stay and talk to me,’ she said to Mark. ‘I’ll play you my new CD.’

‘Can’t do it, love,’ he said. ‘I’ve got an important
press call.’ He winked at me. ‘I’ll see you both next week. Right?’

He went off and Ellie gazed down the corridor after him. ‘Gorgeous or what,’ she breathed.

That evening, after Jack had gone to bed, Mum got out some paint charts and George said we could choose what colours we wanted for our rooms, because apparently the firm of decorators that the estate agents used were going to paint them before we moved in. Ellie and I looked at each other, pleased. Maybe he’d relented and we could have buttercup yellow and green and silver after all.

And then we looked at the paint charts. ‘Out of
these
?’ I said, looking at the colours on the card. ‘They’re white, white and off-white. I can hardly see any difference between them.’

‘They’re all neutrals,’ George said. ‘Pale, restful colours.’

Ellie nudged me to say something.

‘Why can’t we have our rooms proper colours? Bright colours?’ I asked.

George shook his head. ‘Because, with your neutrals, it’s easier if you want to change your décor and the colour of your duvet and so on. Also
it’s better when it comes to selling again.’

‘But I wanted a nice bright yellow for Jack’s room,’ I said.

‘This one here’s called daffodil white,’ Mum said. ‘It’s
quite
yellow.’

‘Hardly,’ I said witheringly. I was tired and fed up and now I couldn’t even have Jack’s bedroom the colour I wanted it. ‘I’m not asking for it to be bright red or anything – just yellow! That’s not exactly outlandish, is it?’

Mum shot a look at George. It was funny, I’d always thought of her as a bold, outspoken sort of woman, but since George had come on the scene she’d gone a bit fluffy. She didn’t seem to have opinions of her own any more.

‘We’ll see later, perhaps – after we’ve moved in,’ she said to me.

‘No, we won’t!’ George said. ‘I don’t want either of the girls decorating their own rooms and making a mess of them. We’re moving to a nice house in a nice area and I want to make sure it stays that way.’

Mum looked at Ellie and me and said, kind-of like an apology, ‘George and I are sinking all our money into this house.’

‘So?’

‘It’s not fair!’ Ellie said. ‘We ought to be allowed to have what colours we want for our own bedrooms!’

‘Well, you’re not,’ George said. ‘And just count yourself lucky you’re coming to this house at all.’

Ellie gave a little gasp at this and I bit my lip and looked over to Mum, wanting her to say something. She didn’t though, so I just gave George a hate-filled glare and got up and went into the bedroom, creeping in quietly so as not to wake Jack.

‘Pig!’ I muttered to myself. ‘Fat pig.’

I laid down on my bed. I hated him – but what did that matter? Mum liked him, Mum wanted him and in time, I expected that Mum would marry him. And if I fell out with him I would find myself living in a horrible B and B somewhere.

I hadn’t said anything to anyone about Jack falling over the other evening. I just wasn’t sure enough. Jack might have been on the floor by accident: he
did
fall and roll over a lot, and somehow it was easier to think that this was what had happened. If I started to question this, came to believe George
had
kicked him, then I’d have to do something about it.

What, I didn’t know. Mum more than likely wouldn’t believe me, would think I was only saying it because I didn’t get on with George. If I told someone
else – who? Vicky? – she might get the Social Services down to ask me a whole lot of questions, and they might say that Jack and I had to be separated from George, and put me somewhere grotty. Worse –
horrendous
– they might think that Jack wasn’t safe and take him away from me.

Ellie crept into the bedroom. ‘They’re having a row!’ she whispered.

‘What about?’

‘Something about a holiday next year. They’re going and we’re not.’

‘Oh, thanks a bundle, George,’ I muttered.

‘Not that we want to go anyway. Not with him,’ Ellie said.

‘What did Mum say?’

‘Something about it would be lovely for Jack at the seaside, and then
he
said he wasn’t providing holidays for all and sundry, that they needed some time on their own, without kids. Then he said that he wasn’t going to pay for us, and that if she felt Jack ought to go to the seaside then his father or grandfather could take him and pay for him, because he certainly wasn’t going to.’

‘Pig!’ I muttered under my breath. I wanted to rush in there and say it but I didn’t dare. I sat up, rocking
backwards and forwards on the bed. I felt frustrated and full of fury. I had no money, no power, no voice that anyone would listen to. ‘Life stinks!’ I said to Ellie.

‘You bet it does,’ she said.

‘It was the bloody solicitors at the door!’ George said, marching into the kitchen and flinging a long brown envelope on to the breakfast table. ‘Served the papers on me personally, they did. Took me unawares.’

We’d all been dashing about having our bits of breakfast when the front-door bell had gone, long and loud. I’d been settling Jack into his high chair and Mum had been doing something with Ellie, so George had gone to answer it.

‘Bloody solicitors. Parasites,’ he spat out.

‘Is it the divorce papers?’ Mum asked.

George swore loudly by way of reply and sat down again, throwing the envelope on to the table and knocking over a jug of milk. Jack, startled by the sudden crash and confusion, started to cry.

‘Oh, that’s all we need,’ George said, ‘
him
starting. As if crying all night isn’t enough.’

‘Sssh. Never mind,’ Mum said, beginning to clear up the mess.

‘You frightened him – that’s why he started crying,’ I said.

George shot him a look which said,
I’ll give him something to be frightened about
.

‘And don’t look at him like that!’ I said immediately. ‘It’s all right,’ I said to Jack. I smoothed his hair out of his face. It was getting long; he was going to need a haircut soon. ‘It’s all right, darling.’

‘Look, calm down, everyone,’ Mum said. She put her hand on George’s shoulder. ‘What do you have to do about those papers?’

‘I don’t know,’ George said irritably. ‘I don’t even know what they are. I’m not going to open them.’

‘You’ll have to!’ Mum said.

‘Yes, all right, I’ll have to
some
time,’ he said. ‘I’m just not going to do it now.’

Jack stopped crying and I spooned more cereal into his mouth. He could feed himself now, after a fashion, but I liked to do it if it was anything messy or we were just about to go out. All the time he was chomping he kept a wary eye on George.

Ellie went off to school and then just as George and Mum were about to leave for work, the frontdoor bell went again.

‘You can go,’ George said to me. ‘And if it’s anyone official, I’m not here.’

It was Mark. I brought him in, and Jack beamed at him. ‘Up!’ he said, holding up his arms to be lifted.

‘Another word!’ Mum and I said together. Mum gave Mark a kiss and introduced him to George, who barely gave him the time of day.

I wiped around Jack’s mouth, got him out of his chair and handed him to Mark. ‘You’ve missed Ellie,’ I said, ‘so can you amuse him for five minutes instead?’

I dashed round collecting things and a couple of minutes later Mum and George went off to work. Mark came to find me.

‘I see what you mean about George,’ he said. ‘Not exactly oozing charm, is he?’

‘He’s in a really bad mood,’ I said. ‘Some papers arrived from a solicitor. Something about his divorce.’

We went into the kitchen and Mark looked hopefully at the teapot. ‘Have I got time for a cuppa?’

‘Only just.’ I passed him a clean mug. ‘Have you come here to go for a ride in the taxi with me?’

He nodded, grinning.

‘You won’t say anything about… you know, what he said, will you?’ I asked anxiously. ‘Only I’ve got to
go in that cab with him for the rest of the term.’

Mark poured himself a mug of lukewarm, stewed tea with one hand and balanced Jack on his knee with the other. ‘I’ve got it all planned,’ he said. ‘Leave it to me.’ He took a swig of tea, pulled a face, and then asked casually, ‘By the way, have you got a coach timetable?’

‘Where for? Where’re you going?’

‘Chester,’ he said, all deadpan.

I stopped what I was doing, amazed. ‘
Really
? You’re going to see Lorna?’

‘Might,’ he said.

‘Brilliant!’ I felt a big lump come in my throat. ‘Oh, Mark, that’s fantastic…’

‘I just said I might,’ he said. ‘Don’t get all excited.’

‘You
will
, though, won’t you?’

He shrugged. ‘I suppose so. I’ve been thinking about what you said. I reckon I really ought to give her a chance to explain, give her side of the story sort of thing. Maybe when I can understand the circumstances…’

I took a deep breath. ‘
Fantastic
,’ I said again. I didn’t want to get all bunged up with crying – not with ordeal by taxi driver coming up – so I tried to compose myself. ‘Just for that,’ I said, ‘I’m going to make you a fresh cup of tea.’

*

Mr Creep arrived as usual, pulling into the layby where Jack, Mark and I were waiting.

‘I’ve got an extra passenger, if that’s all right,’ I said to him. ‘This man’s a reporter from the local newspaper.’

He looked startled. ‘Oh. What’s he in aid of then?’

I smiled sweetly. ‘I’ll let him tell you that.’

Mark had Jack on one arm and was carrying his changing bag in the other, together with his own camera and gadget bag. I had my usual bundles and bags and stuff.