Really, Gemma thought as she slipped out of bed the next morning, leaving Dominic softly snoring into his pillow, was there anything better than make-up sex?
She went into the kitchen and switched the kettle on. As she reached up into the cupboard to take down two mugs, she relived her reunion with Dom in her mind with a thrill of remembered pleasure. She felt more relaxed than she had for quite some time – since Dom had left, to be precise.
All work and no sex makes Gemma a right bitch.
Speaking of which, she needed to give Rhys her notice, and soon. Now that she and Dominic were back together, there was no real need for her to continue working.
Not if they were to get started on making a baby of their own, that was. She wanted to focus all her energies on getting pregnant.
I ought to call Natalie, she thought guiltily as she fixed herself a mug of tea. I need to tell her everything with Dom and me is sorted, and perhaps we can arrange to have lunch, or something—
“G’morning, babes.”
Dominic came up behind her and slid his arms around her waist, nuzzling his unshaven face against hers.
“Good morning, Dom.” She set her mug down, turned into his arms and kissed him. “Tea?”
He mumbled something incoherent but filthy into her neck, then began to tug at the belt to her short silk robe.
“Stop,” she admonished him, and pushed his hand away. “I have to get ready for work.”
“Bugger work. And bugger Rhys Gordon. Call and tell him you can’t come in because you need to stay home and shag your husband all day.” He reached for her mobile, lying on the counter. “Here, I’ll do it for you.”
She grabbed the phone away. “No you won’t. You’ll go to the studio and work on the new single with Christa. And I,” she added firmly as she turned back towards the bedroom, “am going to work.”
“You don’t need to work any more. And Christa postponed the session. Her mum was shot while we were gone.” He glanced at her as she let out a sharp gasp of surprise. “Hadn’t you heard? It’s been all over the papers.”
“No, I hadn’t. Poor Christa! Is her mum all right? What happened?”
“She’s out of intensive care. The police say it was a random shooting, and Christa’s mum just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time.”
“You don’t sound as if you believe that, though.”
He followed her to the bedroom and stood in the doorway. “I don’t know what to think. Odd that it was Christa’s mum that got shot. I can’t help but wonder if…”
“If Christa’s boyfriend was involved somehow?” Gemma finished, and stared at him. “But why would he hurt her mum?”
“I don’t know,” he said again, grimly. “But I wouldn’t be a bit surprised if he weren’t mixed up in all this.”
Just before lunch, Jools answered the last question on the history test and laid her pencil down. Finished, she thought with relief, and I got most of the answers right. It was amazing what studying instead of hanging out with your friends did for a girl. She picked up her test paper and turned it in, laying it face down on the corner of Mr Williams’s desk atop the other papers.
“All done?” he asked.
She nodded. “I actually studied this time,” she admitted.
He eyed her over the top of his glasses. “I’m very glad to hear it. You might want to make it more of a habit at university.”
“I will. Thanks, Mr Williams.”
She gathered up her books and left, stowing them in her locker and taking out her books for the afternoon classes, then made her way through the throngs of students to the school caff. She’d skipped breakfast and she was beyond hungry.
As she set her tray of salad and slice of pizza down at her friends’ table a few minutes later, Pippa eyed her curiously. “Where’ve you been?”
“What do you mean? I’ve been in classes all morning, haven’t I?”
“I meant, you’re not at home. Why didn’t you tell me you went to your dad’s?”
Jools speared a forkful of salad. “Oh, sorry. I’ve been busy.”
“So are you staying with your dad for good?”
“No, just for the rest of the summer, until I start uni.” She took a bite of her salad. “Trust me, it’s for the best. You know Mum and I don’t get on at all at the moment.”
“What about Adesh?” Emsie piped up from across the table. “Will you still see him?”
“Of course. Why wouldn’t I?”
“Well, you’re with your dad now, and Desh is in Bethnal Green…and your mum doesn’t like you seeing him. We thought perhaps she wanted you two kept apart.”
“Like the Montagues and the Capulets,” Dora said, and grinned.
“You lot are too much,” Jools retorted. “Desh and I are hardly Romeo and Juliet. We’re friends, that’s all.”
“Right,” Pippa scoffed. “I’ve seen the way you are whenever he’s round, all ‘ooh-it’s-Adesh’ and batting your lashes and grinning like an X-Factor contestant. It’s obvious you’re into him.”
Jools’s cheeks went red. “That’s not true.”
“And you spent the night together,” Emsie added, “when those men grabbed you both off the street. You can’t tell us nothing happened.”
“Nothing did,” Jools said. “We stayed at my uncle’s house, and we were both knackered. Being kidnapped isn’t exactly fun, you know. It was scary. The last thing we felt like was –” she blushed “–was having sex.”
“Sounds like quite a convo. Mind if I join in?”
Jools looked up. A tallish boy with hair an indeterminate shade somewhere between brown and dark blonde stood at the head of their table, tray in hand and a decidedly cheeky smile on his face. Like them he was upper sixth, and a recent arrival at St Luke’s Academy due to his father’s relocation. She’d seen him a couple of times in passing in the halls.
He’d barely been here three weeks, yet he already had more friends than she did. Jools pressed her lips together. From what she’d seen he was also posh and full of himself and – in her opinion, at least – a complete and utter wank.
Still, he was nice-looking. Fit, even. And he was looking straight at her.
“Hello, Jez,” Pippa said cheerily, and scooted her chair down from Jools. “Grab a chair and come join us.”
Jools cast her a look that could have corroded iron. “What are you doing?” she leaned over and hissed.
“You just said you’re not seeing Adesh. You’re ‘only friends’.” She curled her fingers into quotes.
“Pippa, I swear—”
“Besides,” she added, and lowered her voice as he came back, chair in hand, “anyone can see that he likes you. Do you know how many girls are after him?”
Before Jools could protest further, he set a chair down next to hers and put his tray on the table.
“Hi, I’m Jez,” he said as he sat down, and offered his hand.
Grudgingly, she took it. “Jools.”
“Very pleased to meet you, Jools.”
She mumbled something in reply – she didn’t know what – and pushed her salad around on her plate.
“Are you free this weekend?” he asked as he opened his carton of milk and jabbed it with a straw. “I have a fencing thing on Saturday and I could use all the support I can get.”
“Fencing?” How poncy, she thought derisively. “Like The Princess Bride or The Three Musketeers, you mean?”
“Yes,” he replied. “En garde, touché, as you wish, et cetera.”
“I don’t know,” she said, her thoughts jumbled. “I might have something on. I’ll have to check.”
He grinned and took a bite of his pizza. “Right. I’ll pick you up at eleven.”
She regarded him in amazement. “You really are full of yourself, aren’t you? You don’t even know where I live. And I haven’t said I’ll go.”
“Yes, I suppose I am, and yes, I do know where you live. Maida Vale. But Pippa said you’re staying with your dad in Lambeth for the summer.”
“What a great source of information she is,” Jools said, and glared daggers at her best mate.
“So?” Jez prodded. “Will you go?”
She turned away from Pippa and looked at Jez. “All right,” she sighed, her words resigned. “I’ll go with you on Saturday.”
He lifted his brow. “Wow. That’s probably the most unenthusiastic ‘yes’ I’ve ever gotten. You’re playing hard to get. I like it.”
“I’m not!” she retorted. “That’s ridiculous. I’m just not that bothered either way.”
With another cheeky smile, he thrust his chair back and stood. As Pippa, Emsie, and Dora looked on in slack-jawed envy, he executed a deep bow. “As you wish, Princess Jools. I’ll stop by at eleven o’clock on Saturday. Be ready. And prepare to be dazzled.”