He went to the bar and spoke to the waiter, handed over a credit card. She thought he was leaving but he returned to his seat. Billie Holliday singing soft, breathy blues in the background. Minutes later a bottle of champagne arrived at her table. A note: love at first sight – Matthew.
Her friends exploded with laughter. She blushed furiously, watched him raise his coffee cup in salutation. They popped the cork. Her friends called him over to join them. He pulled a chair up.
‘Do you do this often?’ Hilary joked.
‘Never,’ he said seriously.
‘Well, Matthew, meet Lesley.’
He shook hands. When he held hers she felt warmth; long, smooth fingers. He wouldn’t take his eyes off her. The drink made her giddy. He invited them all for a meal, his treat and no strings attached he said. Which they all found hilariously funny though Lesley didn’t know why.
‘We were going dancing,’ said Lesley.
‘Not till later,’ said Hilary.
‘That’s agreed then. Have you heard of The Glade?’
They were first year students, new to the city. When they looked blank he said it was the place to eat in Liverpool. The meal was exquisite, the prices outrageous. Matthew encouraged them to talk, kept ordering more wine. He said little about himself but told them something of the town. Lesley thought he was wonderful. Relaxed and attentive. An older man, nothing like the overgrown schoolboys she had lectures with. After coffee the others went to the Ladies; a fairly obvious ploy to leave her alone with him.
‘When can I see you again?’ he said.
‘You could come dancing,’ she replied.
‘Not really my scene. Tomorrow?’
She laughed.
‘Are you busy?’
She shook her head.
‘Tomorrow then. I’ll pick you up.’
She hesitated. Better to meet somewhere in town. Being cautious as a matter of course rather than anything else. ‘I’ll meet you at that bar again.’
He smiled, a beautiful smile, long curving lips, even white teeth. He was lovely. He reached across and took her hand in his. ‘Yes. Seven-thirty.’ He was looking at her mouth. She felt a ripple of excitement, a flutter between her legs and in her stomach, tingling in her breasts. The song had changed, Cry Me A River. Poignant and melodic. For a minute she thought about giving in. Leaving the girls and going with him. Now. Soon. But he might think her easy then.
She squeezed his hand. ‘Seven-thirty.’
He found out where she lived, anyway. Asked Hilary on the quiet so he could surprise her. Flowers arrived the next morning. A huge bouquet. She filled two vases and a wine carafe. A card: my love, Matthew. She felt dizzy and happy and restless. She couldn’t think about anything else. She thought she was falling in love.
‘Lesley! What are you doing?’ Emma, back from her flat, came out into the back garden where Lesley watched the bonfire.
Lesley coughed, the smoke was unpleasant, the burning plastic smelt toxic. She looked at the video cases, the curled and blackened cassettes twisting and melting.
‘Memories, Emma… I can’t bear it…’ Lesley broke down.
‘What are they? I don’t think you should be…’
‘Holidays. We were going again, Singapore, for Easter. And now…’
‘Oh, Lesley,’ Emma embraced her and coaxed her inside.
Jade turned round and the thing was chasing after her but when she tried to run her legs wouldn’t work. It was like they’d lost their bones. She tried harder and harder but she couldn’t move and it was just behind her… just… no!
Jade woke up. He legs were wrapped tightly in the sheet like an Egyptian Mummy. The sheet was wet. She shuddered. They’d gone to see the Mummies at the Manchester Museum for their topic. They were all tiny and looked like brown paper with bones sticking up.
She wriggled free and slid out of bed. She pulled the sheet and cover off and took them to the wash basket. She put some water in the basin then pulled off her night-dress and wiped the flannel over her belly and her legs to get the wee off. She rubbed herself dry. Back in her room she put on a t-shirt and knickers then got a sheet and blanket from the box in Mam’s room.
‘What is it, Jade?’ Mam sounded croaky like a frog.
‘I wet the bed and I had a scary dream, a nightmare.’
Mam groaned.
‘But I can change the bed.’
‘Kay.
She put the sheet on and tucked it in a bit and pulled the blanket over her. She didn’t feel sleepy. She said some Hail Marys, that sometimes made her sleepy but it didn’t work. Then she tried her eight times table.
‘So you’ve not met anyone – since…?’ Richard asked.
‘Give us a chance. Kids and work, work and kids. The job itself isn’t exactly a turn on.’
‘Oh, I don’t know,’ he said intently.
Janine wasn’t sure what he meant. He was attractive, no denying it, his mouth, his eyes, the way he made her laugh. But she was six months pregnant. She spoke to mask her bewilderment, blethering on. ‘That reaction you get at parties? Like you’ve just confessed to drowning kittens.’
Richard moved closer. ‘Remember Hendon?’
She giggled.
‘That night. I wish…’
She interrupted. Not wanting him to say anything he’d regret. ‘Richard, I…’
‘Mum?’ Eleanor came in and the two of them sprang apart. She pulled Eleanor onto her knee. ‘This is Richard, from work. You won’t remember him.’
‘What’s that manky smell?’ Eleanor frowned. ‘You’re wearing perfume,’ she accused her mother.
Janine smiled inanely.
Eleanor scrutinised her. ‘And eyeliner.’
‘Let’s get you back to bed.’
Richard got to his feet. ‘I’ll, erm – phone a…’ he nodded.
Five minutes later the taxi horn sounded outside. Janine saw him out. She felt ridiculous, she must have misread the situation. She smiled at him, feeling brittle, nodded goodnight.
Richard stepped away then turned back to her, put one hand on her shoulder, bent a little. A friendly peck on the cheek. His eyes warm and bright, lingered on her face. She smiled. He bowed a little, she tipped her head and he went. Leaving her feeling warm and fuzzy and completely confused.
CHAPTER TWELVE
Day 3: Monday February 24th
Tom sounded a bit wheezy, Janine watched him as he ate a bowl of cereal. He looked well enough and he hadn’t said anything. Was she just fussing? It would be a nightmare if he had to stay off.
She had roped in her mum and dad to have them before school and to drop Eleanor and Tom there. Michael made his own way to high school. But if they had to mind Tom all day…
He noticed her eyes on him and beamed. She smiled back. He was fine. Don’t go looking for extra problems, she admonished herself, you’ve enough on. She heard the mail arrive and went to pick it up. Bills, offers of a platinum card and a home loan, a letter. Parents of Michael Lewis. She ripped it open. Read the contents with mounting dismay.
Dear Mr and Mrs Lewis,
I am writing to you because I am extremely concerned about the deterioration in Michael’s school-work and problems at school that have been brought to my attention. I would like to meet with you as a matter of some urgency and will be available during lunchtime recess every day this week.
Yours sincerely, Mr Corkland, Head of Year 10
She stuffed the letter in her pocket. She would try and get in today; the sooner she knew what was going on the better.
‘Yer Dad had a terrible night,’ her mum announced when they got there.
She felt guilty. ‘Oh, Mum. Look, get a taxi, save him driving.’
‘A taxi? It’ll cost the earth.’
Janine pulled out her purse. ‘I’ll pay.’