Thirty - Nine

As soon as Maggie got home, having dropped the children at school, the telephone rang. It was Mike, talking in hushed tones on his mobile. He hurriedly explained that his wife was suffering from depression, and he was having to accompany her to the doctor’s, and couldn’t get out of it. Then he hurriedly ended the conversation, saying he would try to call in at the wine bar later that night.

As soon as he had hung up, Maggie felt let down. She had dared to indulge in the luxury of anticipating her ex lover’s arrival, and the possibility of some frantic and hurried lovemaking, the sort of forbidden-fruit quickie that is exciting at the beginning of a relationship. Now she felt truly disappointed, especially as she had promised herself that this time their relationship might become deeper, more lasting and committed.

Later in the afternoon, having struggled with her demons while she watched her customers knocking back wine, she succumbed to the temptation to pour herself a large Chardonnay. First she had to get rid of Craig, so she told him to have a few hours deserved break. Glad of the excuse to get away from his sister for a while, and under no illusions why she wanted him out of the way, Craig decided to walk back to his flat in High Brooms and have a relaxing soak in the bath. He met his old employee, Mandy, as he set off up Mount Pleasant.

‘Hi, Mandy,’ he said, his voice leaping with surprise and pleasure.

She smiled at him, her eyes warm and twinkling as she registered how genuinely delighted he seemed at this chance meeting.

‘Hello, Craig. I’ve missed you these last weeks.’

‘Have you?’

She nodded solemnly. ‘It’s not the same any more. I don’t think I’ll ever have a boss as good as you was.’

‘What’s the new owner like?’

‘I’m thinking of jacking it in, when I get something better.’

‘Why what’s wrong?’

‘Mario’s a sneaky, dirty little git. As soon as his missus ain’t around, he comes on really strong.’

Craig laughed.

‘It ain’t funny. I can’t stand him.’

‘Sorry,’ said Craig, looking suitably contrite. ‘It’s just I can’t imagine it. He’s like Danny De Vito. Tiny little runt. I should think you could eat him alive.’

‘I ain’t that fat, Craig.’

Craig blushed. ‘No, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean...’

‘So how’s tricks at the wine bar?’ Mandy asked hastily, to save his embarrassment.

‘It’s doing pretty well. It was a slow start. But now I think we’ve cracked it.’

‘Good. I’m really pleased for you.’

Looking deep into her eyes, Craig believed he could read her thoughts. He was certain he was getting a clear signal that she wanted him; that she was his for the asking. But then Craig always felt insecure where women were concerned, and never made the first move for fear of rejection.

He swallowed noisily, then started to speak. ‘I ... um...’

Mandy smiled warmly, attracted by what she thought of as his disarming shyness. ‘What were you going to say?’

Craig shrugged nonchalantly and looked away from her. ‘I’ve got the rest of the afternoon off. I was just about to wander back to my gaff and have a nice long soak in the bath.’

Mandy waited for him to look at her before she spoke. ‘I was just about to do the same thing myself.’ She licked her top lip and smiled at him. ‘Of course, we could always save on the water.’

An enormous grin spread across Craig’s face. ‘Especially as there’s almost a drought on. Sounds good to me. Wanna come back to my place?’

Mandy quickly slid her hand into Craig’s. ‘I thought you’d never ask.’

‘I was going to walk back. It’s a good twenty minute walk.’

‘That’s OK. It’s a nice day.’

‘Yeah, but I don’t know about you: I’d sooner get there as quick as we can. Let’s go back to the station and get a cab.’

She could sense his urgency now as they hurried along towards the taxi rank. She squeezed his hand and smiled knowingly to herself.

***

Ted gazed lovingly at his little bundle in her cot and gently tugged back the sheet to allow her to breathe more freely. He sighed contentedly and gave her his secret smile, reserved for her and no one else. Then a deep frown clouded his expression as he contemplated the name. Tracey. She was definitely not a Tracey. He had set his heart on Portia or Olivia. Lavinia even.

‘What are you up to?’

Ted straightened up, like puppet having its strings jerked, and turned around to face Marjorie as she shuffled into the nursery.

‘Shh!’ Ted put a finger to his lips. ‘She’s still asleep.’

Marjorie gave him a patronising smile. ‘Of course she’s asleep. She’s been fed. But you can feed her in future.’

Ted looked shocked. ‘Me!’

‘I don’t think I can carry on giving her the breast.’

‘But isn’t it...’ Ted began.

‘What?’

‘More ... well, better for her.’

Marjorie snorted. ‘Load of old rubbish. It don’t make the slightest bit of difference. My mother was all skin and bone, had no milk to speak of. And she put me on the bottle pretty damn quick. And it didn’t do me no harm.’

Ted paused while he thought about a witty rejoinder he might make to this but thought better of it. ‘Well, if you’re sure,’ he said, lamely.

‘Of course I’m sure.’

Marjorie suddenly spotted the large soft Donald Duck at the end of the cot. ‘What’s that?’ she demanded in a harsh whisper.

‘It’s a soft toy.’

‘I can see what it is. What’s it doing there?’

‘I bought it. Babies like cuddly toys.’

‘But why Donald Duck?’

Ted shrugged. ‘No reason.’

‘I mean, why not a teddy bear or a lion or a dog. Why d’you pick Donald Duck?’

‘I just thought...’ Ted stopped, unable to think of an explanation.

‘What?’ demanded Marjorie forcefully.

Ted tutted with frustration. ‘I saw it I the shop, so I bought it. I don’t know why.’

Marjorie’s eyes narrowed suspiciously. The doorbell chimed. Relieved, Ted began tip-toeing towards the door.

‘No you don’t,’ whispered Marjorie. ‘I’ll get it. You go and make up Tracy’s feed.’

Ted stopped and frowned. ‘How?’

‘Everything you need’s on the kitchen table. Just follow the instructions. You can’t go wrong.’