Spreading a generous dollop of blueberry compote onto the top of a cheesecake, Pam was unexpectedly interrupted by the doorbell. Irritably, she plonked the palette knife onto the work surface and headed to the front door.
‘Dez! I wasn’t expecting you.’
‘I know. Surprise!’ he said with mock jollity, hovering expectantly at the threshold. Since he was holding a small bunch of flowers and the usual four-pack of beers, Pam assumed he was expecting to be invited in. Which was a bit of a problem, because she was just about to go out.
‘Can I come in?’ he prompted.
Pulling herself together, Pam stood back to let him inside. ‘Yes of course,’ but as he followed her through to the kitchen she said over her shoulder, ‘I’m afraid you can’t stay long, though. I’m out this evening.’
‘Oh.’ He sounded surprised. ‘I brought you these,’ he went on, thrusting the bunch of asters at her.
‘Lovely,’ said Pam a shade tersely, but automatically taking the flowers and going to put them in a vase. ‘But I’m off to Mona’s. She’s having an Abba evening!’
‘Sounds fun,’ replied Dez. ‘I’d be up for that.’
‘You’d hate it! She’s got a karaoke machine and we do all the Abba hits, and I mean all.’ It wasn’t even Pam’s thing, really. She’d never been into Abba and couldn’t for the life of her see what all the fuss was about. But Mona was a massive fan and so was Zee; she and Toni just joined in for the pure fun of singing along. The menfolk predictably escaped to the sanctuary of the kitchen, although Phil was sometimes known to do a mean Benny – or was it Björn? She honestly had no idea.
Dez pulled a face. ‘Can’t you cry off?’
I could, but I don’t want to, she thought, irked by the assumption that she would immediately drop everything just because it suited Dez.
‘I’d rather not,’ she said. ‘It’d be very last minute, and I’m taking the pudding.’ She indicated the half-finished cheesecake on the surface and hoped it would scotch any further debate.
Dez’s face fell. ‘I just really wanted to see you.’
‘We’re seeing each other on Saturday,’ she reminded him. ‘Drinks at yours. Or had you forgotten?’
‘No but, about that… Something’s come up and I’ve got to go to Birmingham.’
‘Oh?’ Pam was surprised rather than disappointed.
‘Sorry, but it’s business.’
‘That’s rather short notice, isn’t it? I hope it’s nothing serious.’
‘No, no, everything’s fine. I’ve got to meet someone about getting the cars sorted for the driving school.’ He shrugged apologetically. ‘It’s the whole dual control thing, it’s much more complicated than buying normal cars, and a lot more expensive,’ he added despondently. Pam could well see that it might be. ‘So I was just really hoping that I could see you tonight,’ he continued, ‘but obviously I don’t want make you choose between your friends and me…’ He finished pointedly, leaving the notion suspended in an uncomfortable silence between them.
Pam felt herself weakening. There’d be other karaoke sessions at Mona’s, and if she were honest, halfway through an entire evening of Abba she was usually wishing Sweden had never won the bloody Eurovision Song Contest in 1974, or whenever it was. Plus, now that she came to think of it, Dez being away at the weekend was actually rather a boon since her new student lodgers were arriving on the Sunday, and it would be easier all round if she were on her own to focus on them.
‘I haven’t got anything special in for supper,’ she said vaguely. Or anything very much at all. Now that she wasn’t having to feed a hungry troop of teenagers every night, Pam was economising as much as possible on the food shop.
‘I’m not expecting a feast,’ said Dez hurriedly. ‘I’d be happy with beans on toast. Oh, and a slice of that cheesecake!’ he added, giving the pudding an appreciative nod.
Pam caved and called Mona. Hearing herself explain why she couldn’t go, she knew she sounded pitifully weak and unconvincing, but of course Mona was too tactful to comment. She rang off and went back into the kitchen. She finished coating the cheesecake, and then dug around in the fridge to see what she could rustle up for a store-cupboard supper. Dez had taken himself through to the living room and put the TV on, taking his four-pack of beers with him. Finding half a dozen eggs and a lump of cheddar, she settled on a cheese soufflé. She put the oven on, greased the soufflé dish, grated the cheese and made a binding sauce. By the time she was separating the whites from the yolks she was regretting giving in to Dez, angry with herself, and wishing she’d stuck to her guns and gone to Mona’s.
As she was laying the table in the dining room for supper, Dez wandered in.
‘Anything I can do to help?’
It’s a bit late now, thought Pam, setting the cutlery next to the plates, faintly irritated that he’d not offered before. It’s your own fault, she chided herself. You could have asked him to help, so don’t play the martyr now.
‘I’m pretty much done,’ she told him.
‘Mmm, something smells delicious!’ he said, settling himself down at the table.
‘Cheese soufflé,’ she replied, heading off to the kitchen.
‘Fantastic! Oh, by the way,’ she heard him call after her, ‘we’re nearly out of Scotch.’
We’re nearly out of Scotch? What’s with the ‘we’? It’s my damn Scotch! The thought niggled as she took the soufflé out of the oven. Then she reminded herself that, technically, the whisky was Geoff’s. It had been his Christmas present from his brother, the year before they’d split up. It was, she seemed to recall, a particularly decent malt. It had come in a posh gift box and Geoff had made quite a fuss when he’d unwrapped it. She was surprised he hadn’t taken it with him, but then he’d probably had other more urgent things to pack, like underpants and socks… and condoms, no doubt, she added bitterly. Her marriage had ended abruptly, without warning, in a pub car park and she hadn’t even been in the house to witness him pack his belongings. She was neither surprised nor remotely sympathetic to discover that he’d left some of his things behind, not least because she hadn’t been there to dutifully go round afterwards checking for him, as she’d always done when they’d packed to go on holiday.
On the one hand, she supposed she should be angry that Dez had been helping himself to the Scotch, and so freely that he’d drained the bottle. On the other hand, she couldn’t deny her childish delight that her new lover had drunk all of her soon-to-be ex-husband’s whisky. And the fact that it was a bloody expensive bottle only tickled her even more.
The following morning, while Pam made breakfast, Dez rather laboriously unloaded the dishwasher from the night before as she’d, rather pointedly, asked him to do. He wasn’t an enormous help, professing not to know where any of the crockery went. He’ll learn, she told herself briskly. After breakfast, much to her surprise, Dez showed no signs of leaving as he usually did, but settled himself at the kitchen table, helping himself to more tea. She hoped he wasn’t expecting to hang around all day, but mid-morning came and he was still happily ensconced, by now in the living room, drinking coffee.
‘Um, what are your plans today?’ she asked him. ‘Only I have to leave for the shop at lunchtime.’
‘Okay, I’ll slope off when you do.’
Right, thought Pam wishing she could think of a tactful way to ask him to ‘slope off’ sooner than that. Now-ish even. She couldn’t, so he was still there when she went up to her room to get ready to go to the shop. Putting her shoes on, she heard the doorbell.
‘I’ll get it!’ called up Dez.
‘No, I will!’ Pam shouted firmly. But by the time she was halfway down the stairs, Dez had already opened the front door.
‘Can I help you?’ she heard him say.
‘Who the hell are you?’ demanded a man’s voice. It was Geoff’s.
‘Who the hell are you?’ countered Dez, and Pam could see him physically squaring up to Geoff in the doorway.
‘Geoff!’ cried Pam, arriving at the door, completely flustered, and trying to intervene between the two men. ‘What are you doing here?’
Geoff attempted to push his way into the house, but Dez deliberately blocked his path.
‘Pam?’ appealed Geoff, peering over Dez’s shoulder. Which wasn’t hard, since Geoff towered over him.
Oh this is ridiculous. ‘Dez, this is Geoff, my…’ She faltered because she’d literally just been about to describe him as ‘my soon-to-be ex-husband’, which she knew would only inflame the situation.
‘Husband,’ Geoff supplied proprietorially, inflaming it nicely.
Dez whipped round to look at Pam, accusingly. Which was fair enough, she thought. It was grossly misleading for Geoff to claim to still be her husband, even though, of course legally he was. Rather than attempting to clarifying things, Pam opted to introduce Dez instead.
‘Geoff, this is Dez, my…’ My what? panicked a voice inside. My friend? My boyfriend?
‘Partner,’ supplied Dez, and Pam wanted to scream.
Geoff, it transpired, needed his passport which he hadn’t thought to take with him. Pam left him on the doorstep while she went to look for it, leaving the two men eyeballing each other. She hoped to God it wasn’t going to end in fisticuffs.
‘Could you give us a minute?’ she said to Dez, returning with the passport.
Reluctantly he nodded, and with no further word to Geoff, took himself off to the kitchen.
‘You could have phoned beforehand,’ Pam said curtly, handing the passport over.
‘I didn’t think I needed to,’ replied Geoff, similarly brusque.
‘Why?’ she challenged, infuriated. ‘Because you think I’ll always be in? Or because you assume I’ll always be here alone?’
‘Well, I won’t make that mistake again,’ he retorted.
‘Good!’
Then her soon-to-be ex-husband turned his back on her and left. Neither of them said ‘Goodbye.’ Pam barely controlled the urge to slam the door behind him.
How dare he get on his high horse about me seeing someone? she seethed, leaning against the door and trying to regain her self-control. How bloody dare he! He’d been unfaithful to her, not the other way round. It was up to her, completely up to her, if she chose to have a man in her house, at any time day or night, and none of his damn business. Or anyone else’s, come to think of it. So what if Dez had overstated things a little by describing himself as her ‘partner’? But, come to think of it, it wouldn’t hurt Geoff to think that Dez was her new partner. In fact it would bloody well serve him right to think that she had found someone to replace him, the way he’d found someone to replace her. She composed herself, then headed into the kitchen to soothe Dez’s ruffled feathers, wish him luck in Birmingham, and to fix up another date for him to come round when he got back.