The Birds and the Bees (29 page)

Unless a miracle happened in the next twenty-four hours, Adam’s prophecy that all would be settled by Sunday was not going to come true. Matthew and Jo were very much still together, although a sneaky few spying looks in the mornings had revealed that they weren’t half as hand-holdy or snoggy as they used to be, and there was even less smiling going on than at Princess Diana’s funeral.

Adam had started gathering up his stuff and sorting out his laundry. His undies were drying on the line–they were white and Calvin Klein. Matthew was more of a briefs bloke–black and designer label also, but they paled into sexual second place as soon as she saw those white boxers. Matthew’s bum had been a bit skinny for Stevie’s tastes; Adam’s was quite chunky. Not that she’d looked at it much.
Well
…

They hadn’t seen a lot of each other in the last few days. He hadn’t been in the house much, and when he had, Stevie had found herself avoiding him, shutting herself away in her office to work. Damme MacQueen was a good man–misjudged, kind, and wonderful. He didn’t beat up women and he was safe to love. Evie was going to be a lucky lady.

Adam had deliberately been coming home after Danny had gone to bed, for which Stevie was grateful. It was going to be bad enough having to uproot her son again to find yet another place to live, without finding out he’d got attached to ‘Well Life Man’ too. It all felt terribly scary and unsettling, and she was cross at herself for believing Adam MacLean could really get them reunited with their rightful partners. He might not have been Mystic Meg, but he had her hopes up so high, the only way was down and they were coming down fast. It was something else to blame the man for.

‘Can I do anything to help?’ he asked, as she stomped around the kitchen, making a big noise as she transferred the crockery out of the dishwasher into the various cupboards.

‘No!’ she said. Then softer, ‘No thanks.’

‘Why the brass band?’ he asked as the pans crashed together as she put them away.

‘Because I want to.’ Yes, she sounded petulant and she expected him to make some sarcastic comment. He didn’t disappoint.

‘Do you want to throw a few of your toys aroon as well while you’re at it?’

‘No, thank you.’

‘Watch that bottom lip afore you trip o’er it!’

‘Not listening, sorry.’

‘I’ll get you a teddy that you can throw oot your cot and make yersel’ feel better.’

‘Very funny. Ha ha!’

‘Ah, so y’are listening! Maybe you need burping. Want me to pat your back a wee bit?’

She cast him a look that tried to kill him. She would like to have screamed at him to bugger off, but Danny was on his bicycle in the garden so she couldn’t. She was finding that the pressure of keeping her feelings in was making her blow steam out of her earholes, so she rough-handled the crockery instead and dropped one of the nice plates which crashed to the floor, spattering the pieces everywhere.

‘Och, now you’ll have to pay for that oot your pocket-money!’

That’s it!

She turned on him. ‘Everything’s a big joke to you, isn’t it?’

‘No, it isnae. But pretending you’re at a Greek wedding isn’t going to bring Matty Boy back to you any quicker. And there’s no use snapping at me–this isnae my fault.’

‘Isn’t it?’ Stevie laughed, a hard unjolly sound. ‘This situation is
all
because of you, Adam MacLean.
All!
’

‘
Okay, stop there
,’ said the sensible part of her brain, looking around for the brake, whilst in the meantime, her mouth carried on in fifth gear.

‘I’ve lost my home and my man, and my little boy has lost his chance of a family.
You
might have thrown your relationship away, but I didn’t. Make no mistake–this all happened
Because. Of. You!
’ She barged past him to get the cutlery, not noticing that the highly amused and gentle teasing smile had dropped like a hot rock from Adam’s lips and he moved quickly to block her way.

‘Whoa, whoa! Now you ho’d on a wee minute, lady. I need you to rewind this conversation. What was that bit about throwing my relationship away?’

There was something in his manner that made Stevie realize she had gone too far and was on dangerous territory, but there was no taking it back.

‘Nothing, I meant nothing.’ She moved to skirt him and he moved with her and put his hands on her arms to pull her back in front of him. The startled little yelp she gave made him drop his hold immediately.

‘Sorry, did I hurt you?’

‘No,’ she said, because he hadn’t, but he saw in her eyes a flashing thought that he might. That fear. He knew that look so well. He had seen it in his mammy’s and his sisters’ eyes so many times.

‘What’s going on, Stevie? What’s happened? What did you mean?’

Stevie wouldn’t meet his eyes.

‘Please, Stevie!’ He was desperate now to find out what she meant. She knew something about him that he needed to know. That look she had given him scared him. ‘What am I supposed to have done in my relationship that all this was my fault? Please–what did you mean? What do you know? What have you heard? You have to tell me now.’

He wasn’t going to let up on this, she knew. She slumped down on the kitchen table. She wasn’t sure what was true or not any more, but at least she wasn’t about to add to the mess by lying herself.

‘It’s what Jo told us about you.’

‘Jo?’ He paled. ‘You spoke to Jo? When?’

‘Lots of times.’

‘What do you mean?’

Stevie sighed. It was like trying to get an octopus back in
a bag. She wouldn’t be able to do it. It would be better to let it all out and stop struggling against it.

‘Matthew and Jo got friendly at work,’ Stevie began.

‘Aye, I know. You two weren’t getting on.’

‘What?’

‘That’s what Jo told me. That you two were going through a rough patch.’ He didn’t see the need to tell her that apparently she was also dirty and lazy and a terrible mother. She would spontaneously combust.

‘Jo said what?’ Stevie’s mouth dropped so far open, it was in danger of crushing her foot. ‘God, this just gets better and better. We were fine! The reason he befriended her is because you…you…made her unhappy!’

‘In what way?’ Now it was Adam’s turn to look shocked.

‘She never stopped crying! I felt so sorry for her.’

‘You met her?’ He was breathless.

‘She rang for Matthew one day, too scared to go home to you. I told her to come around to the house.’

‘Scared–of
me
? What on earth for?’

‘She was terrified. Shaking when she got here.’

‘But she never said she met you!’

‘Adam, we became friends, we went shopping together–I made her tea whilst she read to Danny. I even let her see my wedding dress. She was on our guest list!’

‘Friends? She said Matthew loathed you!’

‘She said you took all her money!’

‘She said he’d called off the marriage but you were carrying on with the arrangements regardless!’

‘She said you put her through hell with the names you called her!’

‘She said you used to get drunk and throw things at Matthew!’

‘She said you used to smack her around!’

The words hung in the air like a discordant bell. Of all the lies Adam MacLean was hearing, he found this one hard to stomach most of all. Not after all he had seen as a child, the way his daddy laced into his mammy and he had to stand there and witness it all with his arms around his crying sisters, fearful in case his mammy died but scared to move in case he got hurt too. He never quite lost the guilt of thinking of his own needs, even though he was only a wee boy.

‘Stevie, I’ve never laid a hand on a woman in my life,’ he said. A shock of tears sprang involuntarily to his eyes and he wiped them away, embarrassed. ‘The reason I got together with Jo in the first place was to rescue her from some crazy guy that she was living with. He’d kicked her in the leg and she was limping. I found her crying outside the gym where I worked before this one.’

Stevie gulped. ‘Top of her left thigh?’

‘Aye,’ he said.

‘She said you did that.’

‘Me!’ He spun around, his voice booming, his bulk filling half the room, but he still didn’t look in the least bit harmful. ‘I cannae hit anyone. Look at the size o’ me. I’d kill anyone I hit!’

‘So you’ve not been in Barlinnie?’

‘Barlinnie?’ Adam laughed through the tears. ‘Whit the hell for?’

‘GBH.’

‘Grievous Bod…? Stevie, they wouldnae give me a job at Well Life sweeping flairs if I’d mair than three points on my driving licence! I’ve never been in a jail in my life. I’ve no’ even hed so much as a parking ticket!’ He dropped to the sofa. ‘I can’t believe aw this,’ he said, rubbing his head with his huge hands, though it brought him no comfort. He had trusted Jo with all the horrors of his early life and she had used it against him. He really had been a fool. Would he ever learn?

Stevie had the overwhelming desire to go to him and touch him, hold him. She knew he had been hurt by her revelations. Never had she seen even the slightest intimation that Adam was the man that Jo had painted him to be, though she knew she had wanted to see him like that, because then she could blame him for what had happened and not her darling Matthew. Eddie had been right all along when he asked, what sort of a possessive psycho was it that let his wife go for away for a week to a health spa. They’d both been had. And Matthew was still being had.
Should she tell him?
What difference would it make, though? Hadn’t Catherine tried to tell her what a bastard Mick Rook was? And had she believed her? No, nor would she have done, not even if Mick had had
I am a bastard, stay away stickers
plastered indelibly over every part of his anatomy.

‘I’m sorry, Adam, I don’t know what to believe any more.’

‘Stevie, I’m no wife-batterer, I can tell you that. Is this true? Is this really what she said, because I don’t know what to believe any more either.’

Stevie nodded slowly.

‘Ah well, that explains a few things,’ said Adam with weary resignation. ‘I wondered why Matty Boy was wagging his finger at me, telling me no’ to hurt you, and no’ tae spend all your money.’ His brain zapped to thoughts of mutual friends who no longer called, and a fresh wave of hurt engulfed him. ‘I can’t believe people think I’m that sort of guy. Catherine and Eddie–they know all this?’

Stevie gave another nod.

He looked cut down, felled like a big tree that wouldn’t ever get up again.

‘Well, if you think there is the slightest danger to you and your child from me, maybe it would be better if I just got out of your life totally tomorrow. We’ll forget our plan and you get Matthew back your way. I don’t think it will be long, for the record.’

‘Okay,’ said Stevie with a croaky voice. She didn’t want him to go, but she needed space. She needed to get away from thoughts of Adam MacLean’s lips on her arm and the feel of her hand inside his. ‘I think that might be for the best.’

Adam lay on the treatment table and groaned in pain. He had thought a Sunday-morning Kahuna session at the gym might help to ease the tension in his back and neck and shoulders, if not take away the knot in his head. He never expected that the tiny South African masseuse Simone could be capable of such brutality.

‘My God, is it supposed to hurt that much?’ he gasped as the points of her elbows pierced his kidneys. He could hardly breathe. She should have had
SS
embroidered on her tunic, not
WL
.

‘You have a lot of crunchy bits, Adam,’ said Simone. ‘I need to shift ’em’. Boy, you’re tense!’

It was the sort of massage Stevie would have liked to perform on him, he thought. One that hurt lots. Then thoughts of Stevie rubbing oil in his back ran on ahead of him, her small hands kneading his muscles, her fingers tripping up and down his spine. Then he would reciprocate and dribble the warm scented oil onto her body and smooth it over her soft curves, his thumbs circling her skin and making her groan. A mutinous body part stirred and he groaned inwardly.
Och naw, that wasnae supposed to happen
at all!
Then he knew why he had said ‘no’ when Joanna MacLean had turned up at the gym and asked then pleaded, then begged to come home.

As Stevie was preparing the last meal she would share with Adam MacLean in this beautiful house, she saw Matthew through the window walking back home with an armful of Sunday newspapers. He looked like an old man with the cares of the world on his shoulders. Her heart lurched in his direction, in love or pity or both, she couldn’t tell. How was it that she could write about feelings so incisively for her characters, but when it came to her own she was such a mess? Her emotions were like a big ball of wool that had been snagged and ripped and tangled by a very vicious cat.

Danny was colouring at the table. Stevie pulled his Dannyman collar out of his mouth.

‘You’ll suck all the dye out of your shirt and end up being blue like an alien, would you like that?’

‘Wow, yeah!’ he said, which hadn’t been the answer she had expected.

‘I give up. Suck your collar then, Danny, and don’t come crying to me when you go blue,’ she said impatiently.

She turned her attention to the Yorkshire pudding mix. The flour rose up in a big cumulous cloud as the beaters hit it, blew it up her nose and made her sneeze. Adam, newly arrived in the doorway, hid the little smile that came because he was suddenly catapulted back to the first time he had seen her. It surprised him because he thought it would be a long time until he smiled again. His back was in pain from the Kahuna, his head was in pain from thinking
of Jo’s treachery. But it was his heart that pained him most of all.

‘Have you seen a big bunch of keys, Stevie? I’ve put them down somewhere.’

‘Oh, I thought I saw them upstairs. Or did I? Yes, I’m sure I did. Now where was it?’

She put the bowl down and went upstairs to look for them. He followed her and she did a sideways walk up in case he was taking a critical look at her bum. Not that he’d be looking at her bum when he liked a Jo MacLean kind of bum i.e. non-existent.

‘Yes, here they are,’ she said, spotting them. ‘I thought I’d seen them. There on the windowsill.’ She reached over and handed them to him. His fingers brushed against hers and it was unbearable for both of them.

‘Thanks,’ he said. He looked down into her lovely blue eyes and was shamed that she had thought him the sort of man he despised. His ‘plan’ had been stupid. It had confused their lives even more, and he would be left with a worse loss than when he started.

Stevie raised her head to his face and saw him as he really was and how she had found him, not as Jo had led her to believe he was. You only had to look into his soft gentle eyes to know he didn’t have the capacity to hurt anything. And how had she missed how generous his mouth was? An unattainable mouth, because it still belonged to Jo MacLean.

Her thoughts stopped there because her senses were alerted to a noise that was hardly indiscernible to the ear, but that a mother’s heart would pick up. It was coming
from the kitchen and Stevie’s feet flew downstairs in response to it.

Danny wasn’t playing any more. He was on the floor, shaking as if in a fit and in great distress, and his lips were paling to blue.

‘Adam!’ she screamed. ‘Adam, help me!’

Adam bounced down the stairs.

‘He’s hardly breathing!’ said Stevie, bent over her son. She pulled her hand back to slap him on the back. Adam caught her arm before it impacted.

‘No, Stevie. Get an ambulance!’

‘Yes,’ she said. She picked up the phone and as if she was in a bad dream, it slipped out of her hand. She grabbed it up and could hardly see the numbers, she was crying so hard.

‘Stevie, there’s a button missing on his collar–was there one here?’

‘Yes, oh God yes, there was. Hello…ambulance, please.’ She sobbed as the phone connected with the Emergency Services and she hurriedly gave them her details. This wasn’t how it was supposed to be. She was Danny’s mother; she should be in control, saving his life, not standing there–a big stupid jelly and hardly able to speak.

Adam scooped his finger in Danny’s mouth.

‘There’s something in there. I think he’s swallowed his button and it’s blocking his airway. I can’t get to it.’

Adam got to his feet and pulled the limp little boy up, wrapping his arms around the child from the back. He braced himself and thrust his fist under Danny’s ribcage. And again. It looked so brutal, so abusive. Then something flew out of the little boy’s mouth and Danny gasped
and started making sicky, retching noises and then he started crying. It was the most beautiful sound Stevie had ever heard.

Disorientated, Danny looked around for Stevie, reached out for her and Stevie pulled him into her arms and rocked him. She didn’t know how long for, she didn’t feel part of this world any more. She was numb and cocooned in some safe bubble of time that let her savour the feeling of her son’s breathing, of his life. They sat like that until the ambulance sirened up the lane and Adam met it at the door and explained to the paramedics what had happened.

‘We’d better take you in, just as a precaution,’ said one of the paramedics, giving Danny a quick once-over. ‘Hey, young fella, how would you like to have a ride in the back of an ambulance?’

Danny nodded slowly, but he didn’t say his customary, ‘Cool,’ which was telling. Adam lifted him away so Stevie could get up, and he cuddled up to the big Scot and wouldn’t let him go. So Adam came too, in the back of the ambulance to the hospital.

Stevie sat in a cosy waiting room with Adam whilst Danny was in the consulting room with the doctor. She was remembering those awful first days of his life when her arms felt so empty. Her Little Fighter. She never thought she would feel that pain or that relief again. Being a parent gave you highs and lows that were almost an assault on the heart.

She wasn’t sobbing as such, but her eyes were piping out tears. Adam watched them rolling down her face, one after the other, as if coming from an endless supply within. She
looked so little, so tiny and more fragile than he could ever have imagined her.

‘He was a premature baby,’ she said at last. ‘I didn’t think he’d pull through–I was warned he might not. To have nearly lost your child once is terrible, to go through this twice…’

‘Shhh,’ said Adam, because even though he felt shaken himself, he couldn’t imagine what Stevie must be feeling like.

‘I told him if he didn’t stop sucking his collar he’d turn blue and he did,’ she wept.

‘Stevie, stop tormenting yourself.’

‘If you hadn’t been there, he’d have died. If—’

‘Stevie, if I hadn’t been there, you’d have saved his life somehow, don’t ask me how, but I know that without a shadow of a doubt. Now stop thinking about “if”, there’s no point. Danny is safe. “If” didn’t happen.’

‘You saved his life, Adam, and I was useless, crap. A totally crap mother.’

All her insecurities came to the fore. Not being able to keep her son’s father, not being able to carry her baby full-term, not being able to keep her son’s would-be stepfather, not giving Danny a settled home, not getting him to eat potatoes or bread, not being able to stop him chewing his collars, not being able to save his life…So many times she had wished to collapse against a big, strong man who would take control and sort everything out for her. Now here she was doing exactly that and it wasn’t Welsh Jonny or Mick or Matthew, it was Adam MacLean, of all people. This truly was Fate’s biggest joke on her yet.

‘You’re a great mother, trust me on this,’ said Adam.
‘You put food on his table, clothes on his back and love in his heart.’

‘You’ve been reading my books.’

‘Awa’, I wouldnae read that pap.’ He nudged her and she laughed, although the tears didn’t stop. Each one brought out another at its end, like a magician’s constant stream of sleeve scarves. Adam put his arm around her and squeezed her. She was all squashy and soft and warm and there was flour in her hair. He wanted to pull her onto his knee and sink his face into her neck.

The door opened and a smiley nurse came in.

‘Hi there, Danny’s mum?’ Then she threw an extra ‘Heeeey’ at Adam, like a female version of The Fonz. ‘Your little boy is fine,’ she said. ‘Scratched his throat a bit, that’s all, but no lasting harm done. Do you want to come and get him?’

‘Go on,’ said Adam. ‘I’ll wait here for you.’

Stevie smiled at him and followed the nurse quickly out.

‘So you’re Adam’s lady, are you?’ said the nurse.

‘No, we’re just’–
mortal enemies
–‘neighbours.’

‘Adam’s one of our favourites,’ she leaned in and winked. ‘He raised over three thousand pounds for us when he cut all his hair off. He helps us a lot. And, of course, he’s our Father Christmas. The kids love him!’

A ginger Father Christmas with a scar? thought Stevie, and as if she had heard her, the nurse said, ‘He tells the kids that he scraped his face on Rudolf’s antler.’ She actually sighed, as if she was talking about Ronan Keating.

Then Adam’s number one fan opened up a door and gestured for Stevie to go in.

Danny was sitting on a bed and a beautiful female Indian doctor was talking to him.

‘Is he okay, Doctor?’ said Stevie, hugging her baby.

‘He’s fine. Little scratching to the throat, so I’ll give you a prescription for an antibiotic just in case, and we also recommend an intensive course of ice-cream,’ said the doctor, trying to coax a smile from her patient, and getting a very little one in return.

‘No more sucking collars,’ said the nurse with a gently wagging finger.

‘Okay, I won’t,’ said Danny. ‘Can I go home now?’

‘Yes, I think so,’ said the doctor.

‘Do I need to keep him off school?’ asked Stevie, taking the prescription.

‘I don’t think there’s a need,’ said the doctor, smiling. ‘See how he is in the morning.’

Stevie wrapped up her son in her arms and carried him out. He smelt and felt so precious, but if she caught him sucking collars again, she would glue his mouth up.

Adam met them in the entrance hall. Danny reached out, gave him a big Superhero hug, and moved over into his arms. The wee boy smelt of his mother’s perfume. He was so like her, with his honey-coloured hair and his big blue eyes, that Adam found himself gulping back something that made his eyes distinctly watery. His hold on the boy was tight and strong as they got a taxi home to Humbleby.

‘I’ll make you a cup of tea, huh?’ Adam said when they got inside the house. ‘Then I’ll get aff.’

‘Will you go back home?’ said Stevie. Her throat felt
worse than Danny’s must have. Dry and sore. As if she had been gargling with razor blades.

‘Aye,’ he said, obviously not relishing the prospect.

‘Stay,’ said Stevie. ‘Please.’

‘Aye,’ said Adam.

Then he went to put the kettle on.