Forty - Five

The following day, while the children were at school, Mary went to the Royal Victoria Place and indulged in another shopping expedition. And it was a luxury to come back in a taxi instead of the bus. As soon as she got indoors, she unloaded the shopping, a new pair of shorts and T-shirt for herself, jeans, shorts, and t-shirts for the boys, and some luxury food items and wine from Marks and Spencer’s. She had just managed to stack the food in the refrigerator when the telephone rang. She froze. Crashing back to reality.

What if it was Ronnie ringing? Payback time.

She went out into the hall, took a deep and tremulous breath, then picked the receiver up gingerly. It was Dave.

‘Hello, sweetheart. It’s me.’

Mary let her breath out slowly. ‘Hello, Dave.’ Her voice was flat, unemotional.

‘Has he been in touch again?’

‘Well, sort of.’

‘What d’you mean: “Sort of”?’

She cleared her throat softly before telling him about the money, her voice full of guilt. He reacted in exactly the way she expected.

‘You did what?!’

Her voice became thin. ‘What else could I do?’

‘You could have done what I told you to do in the first place. You could have gone to the police.’

‘But what about the money?’

‘You should have given it to them. Told them you didn’t want it.’

She laughed dryly. ‘Oh yes, and that would have ended up in the Police Benevolent Fund, I suppose.’

Dave exhaled loudly and disapprovingly. ‘Don’t you see what you’ve done, you little idiot. You’ve played into his hands. Done exactly what he wanted you to do. You’ve accepted his money. He wants to own you. And he’s buying you.’

***

As soon as Maggie returned from dropping the children at school, she found Mike sitting on the patio outside the through lounge, sipping tea.

‘You want some breakfast?’ she asked.

‘Never touch the stuff.’

Her voice rose in surprise. ‘You never eat breakfast?’

‘I can never face eating at this time of day.’

‘How can you go to work ... I mean, how d’you manage to get enough energy to get you through the morning?’

He pouted and shrugged. ‘Cutting hair’s not exactly energetic.’

‘Even so,’ she said, and slumped into a garden chair next to him. She took his hand and smiled. ‘The kids seemed to just accept you. Which is a good start. So where do we go from here, Mike?’

‘How d’you mean?’

‘Have you made up your mind, about splitting up with your wife?’

Mike nodded gravely and thought about it. ‘Definitely,’ he said after a long pause.

‘You know, you’re welcome to move in with me, don’t you?’

‘I know. But I’m not looking forward to the scene that’ll erupt when I tell Claire. I wish there was another way.’

Maggie shook her head forcefully. ‘No. You’re going to have to tell her. Trouble is, if you tell her about me, she’s going to know that we had an affair in the past; that it’s not just something to do with her crazy religious streak.’

‘And that’s what worries me. It would have been easier if I let her think that she was the one to blame, because of this Scientology crap.’

‘If only life were that straightforward.’

Mike sighed and glanced at his watch. ‘Much as I’d like to sit here with you, sunning myself, I’ve got a lot of work on this morning.’

Maggie smiled. ‘You’d better get snipping then. Will I see you later?’

‘Try and stop me.’

He kissed her lingeringly on the lips, gave her a cursory wave, then left via the side gate. She leaned back in her chair, enjoying the early warmth of the sun on her face as she heard his car start up. Everything felt sunny and fresh, and she could smell the faint trace of coffee from Mike’s abandoned mug. After a while, she started thinking about the white wine they had opened the previous night when they returned from dinner at Thackeray’s. There was still a quarter bottle left; and she’d been up a good couple of hours getting the kids ready for school; and it was such a glorious day; and she wasn’t in the mood for another hot drink. So why shouldn’t she pour herself just one glass of white wine?

To hell with it! Why not?

She went into the kitchen and poured herself a large glass, then returned to sit on the patio, closed her eyes peacefully, while she sipped her wine.

Two and a half hours later, across the other side of Tunbridge Wells, Mike felt hot and thirsty, and had a half hour to kill before his next client. So he dropped into the Cross Keys and had a pint of lager. He knew he’d have been better off eating something, but as it was such a glorious day, somehow a pint of lager seemed a harmless pleasure. Besides, he was still feeling the effects of the previous night’s carousing with Maggie, followed by lovemaking which hadn’t been exactly stunning. Maggie had had so much to drink, she climaxed in less than half a minute, then fell asleep, leaving him feeling uncomfortably affected. As he rolled off her and drifted to sleep, he couldn’t resist smiling at the gender role reversal. It was men who were supposed to suffer from premature ejaculation.