Strictly Love (10 page)

A picture of Jasmine Symonds was splashed over the front
cover together with the headline: ‘
DON‘T SMILE PLEASE! JASMINE‘S TOOTH SHOCK’
.

He read on in mounting disbelief. Someone had got hold of the story about Jasmine's missing tooth. Someone had breached the practice confidentiality. When she saw this, Jasmine was going to hit the roof.

Apparently, things could get worse. Much, much worse.

Chapter Eleven

 

Emily slammed the front door behind her, stormed into the lounge and threw her bag on the floor. She wasn't going to cry. She. Wasn't. Going. To. Cry. She barely knew Mark. She wasn't going to waste her tears on him. Not now. Not ever. What kind of man lied about having two kids?

‘A shitty one, that's what.’ In the comfort of her own home Emily didn't need to worry whether or not the thoughts in her head were being spoken aloud. ‘You got that one wrong big-time,
again
.’

The thought made her both angry and depressed. She slammed her way into the kitchen and got a bottle of wine out of the fridge. If it wasn't for the fact that she knew Charlie was home she'd have rung Katie. But it didn't seem fair to impose on them on a Friday night when they saw so little of each other.

She poured herself a big glass and stared out of her kitchen into the darkening gloom. Just when she thought her life was picking up, it had to go wrong all over again. What was it with her and men? She took a large swig of wine and took down the sheaf of takeaway leaflets she had pinned up by the cooker. Emily didn't feel like eating at all, but it was something to do, something to wait for. Something to make her think that she had a semblance of a life.

Taking the bottle of wine into the lounge, she went and
switched the TV on. There was nothing worth watching, so she went idly to the DVD player to put something else on. The
Green Wing
DVD was still in. She and Mark had had such a good time on Sunday, they had only watched two episodes and he'd told her to keep the DVD for next time. Now, of course, there wasn't going to be a next time.

Emily stared at the DVD. Mark or no Mark, at least it would make her laugh. She might as well watch it anyway. She could always send it back via Katie. She sat down, but it was no good. Without Mark by her side, nothing was going to seem remotely funny.

Mark headed to the scout hut to pick Beth up with something approaching despair. How could he have got it so spectacularly wrong? The only decent woman he'd met since splitting up from Sam and he'd lost her. He had left messages on both Emily's mobile and answerphone, but Mark had a feeling that he'd blown it. And he couldn't really say he blamed Emily if she never wanted to see him again. After all he had lied to her about something incredibly fundamental. But the worst thing of all, as bad as he felt about Emily, had been seeing the look in Gemma's eyes when she'd stormed out of the room. Not only was he a lousy potential partner, he'd turned out to be a lousy dad as well. And, on top of all that, Jasmine's story had somehow got in the paper. What an awful, awful day.

Mark searched for Beth in the crowds of kids and was rewarded by the sight of her racing towards him, arms outstretched, shouting, ‘Dadd-eee!’

‘Good time?’ he asked Beth, cuddling her tight.

‘It was great,’ said Beth. ‘Where's Mummy?’

‘Slight change of plan, I'm afraid, sweetheart. Mummy's got stuck on the train, so you're having a sleepover at mine tonight, isn't that nice?’ said Mark, with a cheerfulness he didn't feel.

‘Brill, Daddy!’ said Beth, squeezing his hand tightly. It made
Mark feel even more of a heel. He didn't deserve children. Not after what he'd done.

Emily came to suddenly on the sofa. The phone was ringing. Bugger, it was probably Mark again. He'd left three apologetic messages already. She, meanwhile, had downed the bottle of red, which had been a mistake of course. And, despite her determination not to cry, tears had eventually come.

The answerphone kicked in. As Emily sat up and looked ruefully at the empty bottle, her heart gave a sudden, unexpected lurch. It was Callum.

‘Babe? Are you there? It's me.’ There was a pause, as if he didn't quite know what to say, then his voice came out in a rush. ‘ImissyouandImsorryandIthinkImightpossiblyhavemadeamistakeand …’

Emily listened in disbelief. She hadn't credited Callum with having that much soul, but he sounded both desperate and sincere.

He's a shit
, said her head.
But he wants me back
, said her heart.
And if I'm going to make a fool of myself over a man, better the devil I know.

Emily picked up the phone. She couldn't help the racing of her heart at the thought that, for once, she might possibly be able to have Callum on her own terms.

‘I'm here,’ she said.

There was a long pause.

‘Look, Em,’ Callum said, ‘I know I've been crap, but … well … thing is. I'm not good at this stuff. But, well. Shit. I'm
really
not good at this stuff.’

There was a pregnant pause.

‘Was there something you wanted to say to me?’ enquired Emily gently.

‘Oh fuck it. I miss you. I didn't think I would, but I do. Can I come over?’

Emily looked at her watch. It was gone ten.

‘What, now?’

‘No time like the present.’

Oh bugger it. In for a penny, in for a pound.

‘You can come for a coffee,’ she said. ‘Nothing more.’

‘I'll see you in a minute,’ said Callum, with such alacrity it was hard to dispel the image of an overeager puppy from her mind.

‘Wait a minute. Where are you?’

‘Just outside your front door,’ came the sheepish response.

Emily laughed as she went to open the door. The devil you know had to be better, didn't it? So why, when she let Callum in, did she feel disappointed he wasn't Mark?

Rob walked into the flat on Saturday morning and was struck by the brooding silence of the place. Mark didn't appear to be up yet, and the house seemed deathly. There had been a band on at the Hookers last night, and he and Mandy had danced till 1 a.m. before heading back to hers. Rob had figured that Mark and Emily needed some space. It was time Mark nailed himself a new woman, and Emily seemed just the ticket.

But if they were going at it like bunny rabbits, they were being awfully quiet. And, Rob noticed, there was only one can of beer on the table, not two. Perhaps Emily hadn't stayed after all. Really. He was going to have to take Mark in hand and remind him of
exactly
what was required when you invited a woman into your home.

Rob picked the can up from the lounge table and walked into the kitchen to make himself a cup of tea. He was feeling more cheerful than he had for some time. Mandy Allwick certainly knew how to give a guy a good time. Though there was the slight inconvenience of her lack of conversational abilities, her idea of an intellectual discussion centring around the relative merits of the two nail bars at the chavvy end of town. Still, he wasn't seeing her for that …

He walked back into the lounge with his cup of tea, ready to sit down with the newspaper he had purchased on his way home and –

‘Holy shit, you startled me!’

Gemma had appeared, as if out of nowhere, like a silent pale ghost gliding across the room. Rob looked ruefully at his tea-stained trousers and then up at Gemma.

‘What are you doing here, Wednesday? I thought you were at your mum's this weekend?’

Gemma paused and looked dramatic. She was good at that kind of thing.

‘I've been abandoned,’ she said. ‘Mum couldn't be bothered to get home from work last night, so Dad had to have us.’

She spat the word ‘Dad’ out with such venom, Rob spilled his tea once more.

‘Is everything okay?’ Rob wasn't noted for his sensitivity but teaching had taught him a thing or two about teenage girls.

‘No,’ said Gemma. ‘It is not. My life is terrible and my dad is worse.’

‘Hey, come on,’ said Rob, ‘that's a bit unfair. Your dad would do anything for you. Whatever he's done to upset you, it can't be that bad.’

‘Can't it?’ Gemma looked less dramatic now, and more woeful. There was clearly something bothering her.

‘Come on,’ said Rob. ‘Tell your Uncle Rob all about it. I'm sure we can sort it out, whatever it is.’

‘It's – it's – Did you know he had a girlfriend?’ burst out Gemma.

‘Oh, you mean Emily,’ said Rob.

‘Is that what she's called?’ Gemma gave a haughty sniff.

‘She's not exactly his girlfriend,’ said Rob. He had a feeling he knew what might be coming.

‘Why did she come to see him then?’ demanded Gemma.

‘Your dad
is
entitled to have a girlfriend, you know,’ said Rob.

‘It's not the having a girlfriend I mind,’ said Gemma, sitting down and looking suddenly deflated. ‘It's the fact that he told her he didn't have kids.’

‘Ah,’ said Rob, feeling awkward. ‘That may be partly my fault.’

‘What? You told him to lie about us?’

‘Not exactly,’ said Rob. ‘Look. It's complicated. Girls don't always like to meet boys who‘ve got kids. I thought it would even up his chances of meeting someone if he pretended he didn't have children.’

‘Well, thanks a bunch,’ retorted Gemma.

‘So, really, it's my fault, not your dad's,’ said Rob.

‘Oh,’ said Gemma, but she appeared to be thawing a little.

Rob paused for a moment. She looked very young and vulnerable sitting there, without the armour of her make-up on, or the normal veneer she gave of downright hostility.

‘It must be tough, your mum and dad splitting up,’ he ventured.

‘S‘pose,’ was the noncommittal reply. She paused and then said, ‘I hate it most when Mum and Dad row. I wish they wouldn't.’

‘Well, have you asked them not to?’ said Rob.

‘They wouldn't listen,’ Gemma replied, and stared at the floor for a moment, before savagely kicking the coffee table. ‘Why did they have to split up in the first place?’ she burst out. ‘It sucks.’

‘Yes, it probably does,’ said Rob. ‘But I don't think you can change that now. I do think you should tell them how you feel, though. I think it might help.’

Gemma shook her head. ‘I can't,’ she said. ‘And please don't say I said anything.’

‘Scout's honour,’ said Rob, saluting. ‘I'm sure your dad didn't mean to upset you, you know.’

‘I know.’ For a moment Gemma looked as if she might crack, then the mask came right back on again. ‘I think he should say sorry, though.’

‘I'm sure he will,’ said Rob. ‘And I want to say sorry too. Because it was my stupid fault, really.’

‘Oh, okay,’ said Gemma.

‘We friends again, then?’ Rob asked, hoping that he'd said enough to put things right.

‘All right,’ muttered Gemma, retreating back into spiky teen mode.

‘Good, then you can make me another cup of tea while I change my trousers,’ said Rob.

Gemma stuck her tongue out in reply.

‘Emily, are you okay?’ Katie had tried several times the previous night to ring her friend, but her mobile had been switched off and her answerphone was on. Katie was reluctant to leave a message and eventually concluded that Emily must be with Mark, so things were out of her hands. ‘Only I've been trying to get hold of you.’

‘No. Yes. I don't know,’ said Emily. ‘I've just found out that Mark has kids.’

‘I know,’ said Katie. ‘And it could be worse than that, from the way he was speaking on the phone, I think he's still seeing his ex.’

‘You knew?’ Emily practically shouted down the phone. ‘Why didn't you tell me?’

‘Woah,’ said Katie. ‘I only found out yesterday and I tried to ring, but you weren't answering.’

She explained what had happened the previous evening and Emily filled her in on events at Mark's.

‘So that's it then?’ Katie asked.

‘That's it,’ said Emily. ‘I just can't believe he lied to me like that. I was so sure he was different.’

‘Ahem,’ said Katie. ‘I hate to state the obvious here, but pots and kettles spring to mind. You've lied too.’

‘Yeah, well, I only lied to him because he made it so patently clear how much he despised lawyers. I wouldn't have otherwise.
Besides, I was just doing what you were doing and creating a fantasy. I mean, it's not like it does any harm, does it? Well, at least I thought it didn't.’

Katie looked out of the window where she could see Charlie playing with the children in the spring sunshine, and felt vaguely guilty. He had showed so little interest in her dancing classes, she had neglected to mention that Rob was fast becoming her regular dancing partner. And Rob certainly didn't know about her domestic situation.

‘No harm at all,’ said Katie. Charlie was swinging Aidan over his head. It gave her such a warm tingly feeling to see him do that. It was a shame such moments happened so rarely.

There was another pause.

‘There's something else,’ said Emily.

‘What?’

‘Callum came round last night.’

‘Oh, Emily, you didn't!’ Katie couldn't contain her horror. ‘No! No! No! Talk about frying pans and fires.’

‘Well at least
he
hasn't lied to me,’ said Emily. ‘And he's missed me.’

‘But can you trust him?’ Emily didn't answer the question, so Katie continued. ‘At least promise me you won't see him again.’

‘I promise,’ said Emily. ‘It was a one-off.’

‘Liar,’ said Katie.

‘It's true,’ protested Emily. ‘I'm not going to see him again.’

‘Hmm,’ said Katie, and put the phone down. Poor Emily. What a bloody mess. Really, her own problems were miniscule by comparison. She went to join the rest of the family in the garden, but as she came out, Charlie headed for the door.

‘Oh good,’ he said, ‘you're off the phone. I've got some work to do. You don't mind taking over, do you?’

Katie tried to cover up her dismay.

‘Oh, I thought when Molly woke up we might all go to the park together,’ she said.

‘Sorry,’ said Charlie, ‘this report I've got to write is really urgent. I did tell you.’

Katie went to join the boys in the garden, her heart heavy.

Maybe she wasn't so lucky after all.