Thirty - Seven

Simon and Thomas were engrossed in watching The Simpsons when the telephone rang. Mary was expecting Dave to call, but then something about the time of call, and the ring tone seemed to signal a telepathic warning. As soon as she answered the call, her apprehension turned to fear.

‘Hi, Babe. I think you missed me last night.’

‘Ronnie!’ she almost screamed. ‘I don’t want you to call me again.’

‘Am I supposed to have done something wrong?’

‘You know bloody well you have. That tape for a start. How did you get in the house?’

‘It was a piece of cake, kid. You want to get Mister Funny Man to make the place secure. I mean, anyone could get in. It’s not difficult. Think what might have happened if it’d been anyone but me.’

Mary shivered and her hand gripped the receiver tightly. ‘Now listen, Ronnie: I don’t need all this. Not after all this time. If you continue to pester me, I shall have to call the police. And I’m changing this phone number.’

She heard him laugh, a deliberately provocative chuckle, false and devoid of humour. She struggled between the desire to slam down the phone or keep listening.

Before she could decide, his laugh broke off, like a light being switched off.

‘Don’t waste your time changing the number,’ he said. ‘All that hassle, and I’ll get the new one.’

‘How can you do that.’

He laughed again. ‘I’ve got ways. I work for the Americans now. All hush-hush stuff. So I’d watch it if I were you. We know everything you get up to. And last night, as you tossed and turned in your bed, who were you thinking of when you enjoyed yourself. Not Mister Funny Man, was it? Or were you thinking about us? About the great times we had between the sheets. I’ll always be the best lover you ever had, babe. Was it me you were fantasising about last night? You pulled the duvet right back as you pleasured yourself. Jesus! It got me horny. So horny, I thought...’

She slammed the phone down hard, stood bent over the hall table as if she’d been hit in the stomach, and found it difficult to breathe. How had he known? How had Ronnie known about what she did last night? Or was it just a coincidence? Was he just guessing?***

Arriving breathlessly at the wine bar, Maggie headed straight for the cold cabinet, uncapped a Perrier and swigged from the bottle. Craig appeared in the kitchen doorway.

‘Dehydrated, are we?’

Maggie jumped slightly, spilling water down the front of her Fort Lauderdale T-shirt. Craig gave a deliberate, self-righteous and sneering laugh.

‘Sorry if I made you jump.’

‘I didn’t think you’d be in yet.’

‘Someone’s got to do the clearing up.’

Maggie sucked in her breath. ‘Yes, all right! You were the one who insisted I went home early. You know how difficult it is for me, what with picking up the kids from school. And I like to see something of them.’

‘I’m not arguing about that.’

Maggie pouted. ‘Oh. So this is an argument, is it?’

‘If you like. I think it’s time we had a serious word.’

‘Come on, Craig. Now’s not the time. We open in five minutes. If you’ve got something on your mind, save it for later.’

‘It might have escaped your notice, Maggs,’ said Craig, waving a hand towards the tables, ‘that everything’s been done...’

‘What do you want? A medal? I told you...’

Craig interrupted her, raising his voice. ‘This has nothing to do with you taking time off to be with the kids.’

‘There’s no need to shout.’

‘I’m not shouting.’

Maggie giggled lamely, trying to turn it into a joke. ‘Sorry? I can’t hear you.’

Craig stared at her, coldly.

‘Oh, come on, little brother,’ Maggie sighed, ‘and give us a break. Lighten up, will you?’

‘You know bloody well what this is about, don’t you?’

‘Yeah, yeah, yeah.’

‘Maggie! I’m trying to help. You’ve got a problem. You’re knocking back the hard stuff.’

‘What’s the point of running a wine bar if I can’t have a couple of drinks to be sociable?

‘It’s not just a couple of drinks, and we both know it.’

Maggie took another swig of Perrier

‘I think you’re drinking on the quiet,’ Craig went on. ‘I can smell it on your breath, Maggs. And that incident with the wine yesterday...’

‘Don’t give me any grief about that. It was an accident.’

‘I know we all have accidents from time to time...’

Maggie stared at her brother, parodying an adoring expression. ‘Except my wonderful young brother, who never does anything wrong.’

Craig’s face flushed with sudden anger. ‘Why don’t you admit you’ve got a drink problem, sweetheart? You don’t fool anyone except yourself. Even Dad’s mentioned it to me.’

Maggie looked suddenly alarmed. ‘What did he say?’

‘Oh, just that he thinks you might be overdoing it. But I know what he meant. You’ve got to get a grip, Maggs.’

Maggie sighed, pouting, and let her head fall contritely onto her chest. ‘I’ll try,’ she muttered. ‘But...’

‘But what?’

‘I don’t think I can cope anymore. I wish I’d never got into this wine bar business.’

Craig stared at her disbelievingly. ‘But we’re doing all right, Maggs. We’re going great guns.’

‘Yeah, financially. But I just don’t think I can cope. It’s like there’s something missing from my life. There’s an emptiness. A gap. It’s difficult to explain.’

At that precise moment there was a tap on the glass of the entrance door. Outside stood Mike, grinning and looking though the window at them. He held up his wrist watch and tapped the glass of it pointedly.

Maggie grinned back at him. ‘Better open up,’ she told Craig.