Hens Reunited (29 page)

‘I’ll be fine, honest,’ Alice said, avoiding their gazes. ‘I just need to go home.’ She felt light-headed as she got to her feet and gripped the buggy handles. Thank goodness she had them to cling on to – she didn’t think she could walk anywhere on her own right now. ‘I’ll . . . I’ll see you soon. Please – please don’t tell anyone about this yet.’

They exchanged glances. Like they’d be able to keep quiet about such a huge piece of news! ‘’Course not,’ Jen assured her. ‘Bye Alice,’ they chorused.

She could feel their eyes upon her as she stumbled through the trees towards the cottage. It would be all over the village within seconds, she knew that already. She could almost hear the high-pitched excited voices.

You know Alice? You’ll never GUESS who she used to be married to. You’ll never guess!

Have you heard? Alice – you know, the new one in the village? Her daughter was only fathered by Jake Flipping Archer! Yeah – the fit one off the telly!

Oh Christ. Just what she didn’t want. The whole village knowing the truth about her failed marriage with love-cheat Jake. She could already imagine the meaningful looks she would get from now on. The whispers behind her back, the stares into the buggy, all the intrusive personal questions . . . Oh God. So much for her quiet rural existence. Iris would never be able to grow up free from glances and raised eyebrows. Would Jen and Mags go to the papers, even, she wondered? Would the village be invaded by journalists? Her stomach clenched at the thought of the long-range cameras and hard-eyed hacks shouting questions at her, Georgia Backstabber Knight leading the pack, no doubt.

But then again, if that was the price she had to pay for Jake coming back . . .

Well. No question. She’d suffer it like a shot. She’d put up with the lot of it, if it meant that she’d be back with him – husband, wife and daughter together, one happy little family. Tears rolled down her hot cheeks. Oh, if only. She’d give anything for that, anything.

She could hardly see where she was going through the tears, and stumbled blindly through the village. She didn’t care if anyone saw her like this, crying in the middle of the day. They’d be talking about that too, no doubt. Barmy, heartbroken, jilted Alice. She was certainly making her mark on this place, you had to give her that. So much for blending into the background.

She all but ran the rest of the way home, ignoring the curious stares of the old couple she saw in the main street, aware that she looked a state, tear-streaked and wild-eyed. Why hadn’t she brought her mobile out with her? For all she knew, Jake could have been trying to call her. Oh, what was going on in his head? She was desperate to know!

A thought struck her then. Had she even connected her home phone yet? There were still so many things she hadn’t got around to unpacking and sorting out yet. Wouldn’t it be typical if she’d missed a call after waiting for so long for one?

Her heart leapt into her throat as she burst through the front door of the house, leaving Iris stranded in her buggy as she ran to the phone. Yes, it was plugged in . . . but the sound was off. Oh no! So calls had been coming in all week but she’d not heard them! Her mouth dry, she checked the display panel . . . and let out a cry. Thirty-seven messages, it said.
Thirty-seven messages!

Oh my goodness. Her fingers trembled as she slid the ringer switch to on. Had she accidentally turned it off when she’d packed the phone, she wondered, or—

Realization dawned. Of course. The last time she’d used that phone had been way back when the news had broken about Jake, last year, when she’d been living in London. She’d switched the bloody thing off for the last few days of being in the flat, when she’d got fed up of it ringing round the clock with grasping journos all wanting to get their pound of flesh. Then it had been packed up with the rest of her stuff, in a box in her parents’ garage for all the months in between. She hadn’t thought to check the ringer when she’d unpacked it again. And all the while, people had been trying to get through to her!

She pressed the Play button and sat back on her heels.

‘You have . . . thirty . . . seven . . . messages,’ the machine announced. ‘Message one.’

‘Alice, this is Pete again from the
Sun.
Come on, sweetheart, pick up, we know you’re in there. We’re offering you a very nice deal on an exclusive, so . . .’

She pressed the Delete button before he could go any further, and grimaced. Talk about a blast from the past. There were twelve more similar calls from the press and they made her skin crawl. It was weird to think their voices had been logged on her phone for over a year.

Then there was a leap forward in time: message fourteen was from her mum. ‘Hello, love, just seeing how you’re getting on in your new home. It’s strange here without you! We’ve found a couple of Iris’s vests and socks in the laundry, so I’ll iron them and have them ready for you next time we see you. Speak to you soon.’

There were another six messages from her mum, getting increasingly concerned. Was Alice all right? Why wasn’t she returning her calls? Alice’s mobile didn’t seem to be switched on either – was everything okay?

Alice felt stricken with guilt as she skimmed through them. She’d been so caught up in her new life that she’d barely thought to consider her poor old mum, waiting to hear how she was getting on. And she wasn’t even sure where her mobile was now. It must have run out of charge. Had Iris stashed it somewhere, she wondered uneasily?

‘Hiya, it’s Katie. Just to tip you off that Georgia’s been asking for your number. I didn’t give it to her because I wasn’t sure if you wanted to hear from her, but I’ve got her mobile number if you do, so just let me know. By the way, I saw the news about Jake this morning. Hope you’re okay. Ring me soon for a chat, won’t you?’

Alice felt her hackles rise. Georgia had been asking for her number? Of all the nerve!

‘Message twenty-five,’ the robotic answerphone voice said. Beep!

‘Alice, hi, it’s me, Georgia.’ Talk of the devil. Alice flinched at her old friend’s voice – brisk and business-like. The bitch. ‘I’m ringing up with some news. It’s about Jake.’ A pause – for dramatic effect, no doubt. Too late, Georgia. She’d already heard. ‘Could you give me a ring, please? No catch.’ Another pause. ‘Oh, and Alice? I’m sorry about what happened. Truly. I owe you one. So give me a ring and we can talk.’

Sickening. Absolutely sickening. Alice jabbed the Pause button of the machine, feeling furious. Who the hell did Georgia bloody Knight think she was anyway? She went to let Iris out of the buggy, not wanting to listen to any more messages for the time being, but saw that her daughter had nodded off, her sun hat drooping over one eye, her baby chest rising and falling with deep sleepy breaths. Just the sight of her was calming, and Alice stood for a few moments watching her, letting her heartbeat subside. There was a bad taste in her mouth and she flicked on the kettle before remembering too late that there was no milk. Duh.

God. What a day this was turning out to be. What a mad day. Alice put her head in her hands, Georgia’s words echoing around her head. What got her most was that tacked-on apology at the end. That
Oh yeah, sorry by the way that I stabbed you in the back last year. Truly.

Truly, indeed. Truly! As if Georgia even knew the meaning of the word. God! What was she like? Did she really think Alice was stupid enough, forgiving enough that she’d fall for that? Did she really think that throwing in a sorry now, a whole year too late, was going to swing it?

Not bloody likely.

She pressed the Play button again, warily, as if she was putting her finger into a tank full of piranhas.

‘Hi Alice, Chloe Wells from the
Sun
here. Just ringing for a reaction to the news about Jake . . . He’s not hiding out with you, is he? Give us a call, we’d love to talk to you . . .’

‘Alice, hi, it’s Georgia again. I guess you’re out. I’ll keep trying you, okay?’

‘Hello, message for Alice, this is Jessica Miller from the
Mail
. Just wanted to get your take on the Jake and Victoria split. Has he been in touch? How do you feel about him these days? The number here is . . .’

‘Alice, it’s Dad. We’ve had a lot of people ringing up for your new number. Is everything all right, love? Should we come over?’

‘Alice, it’s Chloe again. Give us a bell, darling, we’re very keen to speak to you . . .’

‘Mum again. Mrs Burton from down the road just told me the news about Jake. Are you all right, lovey? I’m starting to get a bit worried that we’ve not heard from you. Has he been in touch? Please call, just to let me know you’re all right. I’ve been out all morning but your dad says the phone’s been going mad here, lots of people wanting to get hold of you. The daft eejit has given out your number, I’m so sorry, love, I hope you’ve not been plagued by calls. Maybe that’s why you’re not answering? He won’t do it again, anyway, my orders. Okay. Bye, then.’

And so it went on . . . and on . . . and on. But the one person she’d been hoping to hear from hadn’t called. Well, there was a surprise. She should have known better. Because really, what on earth could he have said, to make things all right again?

I’ve been such a pillock. But I’m going to make it up to you, Alice, I swear!

No – she wouldn’t believe that for a second. And how could you possibly ‘make up’ the first eight months of your child’s life to them? Too late, mate. He’d never get that time back now.

I treated you so badly. I lost the plot. I would give anything for a second chance, Alice. Anything.

Hmmm. Better. But she wasn’t a pushover – it would take a lot more than that.

I’ve had a year-long amnesiac episode. I have finally remembered that you – YOU – are the woman I love. And I can’t wait to meet our little daughter. I’m going to give her the world!

Yeah, well . . . Jake was a good actor, but even he couldn’t pull off a
Dallas
-type stunt like that. Still . . . it would be nice if he made the effort to try though. She had to find her mobile as soon as possible! What if he’d been trying to get through on that?

The phone rang again, and she nearly jumped out of her skin. Oh my God. It was Jake. It had to be. Alice was a great believer in psychic coincidences. She ran to pick up the receiver before it woke Iris. ‘Hello?’

‘Alice, it’s Georgia.’

The words were like a sting in her flesh after her daydreams of Jake. ‘Oh,’ she managed to get out, wrapping her free arm around her middle defensively. ‘What the hell do
you
want?’ she spat, anger boiling up inside her. ‘Let me guess – another little stitch-up? A quote for another scuzzy article you’re writing? Well, here’s a quote for you: get lost. I’m not interested.’

‘Alice – wait.’ Georgia sounded pleading and Alice hesitated. She’d been about to crash down the receiver but something stopped her. ‘Look – I know you hate me. I know you’ve had a shit time—’

Alice barked a laugh – hard and angry. ‘You know I’ve had a shit time?’ she parroted. ‘Oh well, let me see. How did that shit time come about, again? Oh yeah – ’cos you stabbed me in the back with your sleazy article. So thanks for that. Thanks very much!’

‘I know, I know.’ Georgia’s voice was low. Humble, even. ‘I wish I hadn’t done that. Honestly. I was totally out of order, and I really regret writing it. But, the thing is . . .’

‘The thing is, you’re ringing up to dig some more dirt now that Jake’s dumped Victoria,’ Alice interrupted tartly. ‘What a coincidence you’re ringing up to apologize
now.
How sincere and convincing!’

‘Look, I know you hate me,’ Georgia said again. There was an edge to her voice now as if she was getting pissed off.
Join the club
, Alice thought scornfully. ‘But the thing is, I’m on my way to see Jake. I’ve had a tip-off about where he is, so I’m going to check it out. And—’

‘Oh right, I get it, so you’re going to hound him, the way you and the rest of the hacks have been hounding me,’ Alice put in. ‘What a nice way to earn a living. You must sleep really well at night, Georgia.’

There was a pause. ‘I’m trying to do the right thing,’ Georgia said in a quiet voice. ‘Honestly. I’m trying to repair the damage. This is not a stitch-up, there’s no catch. I’m just letting you know, that’s all. If you want, I can pass on a message to him from you, or act as a go-between, or—’

Alice snorted. The woman was unbelievable. ‘What, out of the goodness of your heart?’ she asked mockingly. ‘Sorry, Georgia, but I don’t buy it. There’s always an ulterior motive with you. If Jake wants to ring me, nothing’s stopping him from doing so all by himself. He doesn’t need you as a go-between and neither do I. Trying to weasel another little story out of me, are you? What a surprise.’

‘No – I promise!’ Georgia cried. ‘Alice – I’m not doing this for a story. I’m—’

‘Oh, don’t give me that,’ Alice snapped. She’d had enough of this. ‘You’d sell your own grandmother for a story. You’ve never bothered apologizing before for splashing my marriage breakdown all over your horrible paper – why the hell would I believe you want to do something for me now?’

‘But—’

‘And you’d better not print this conversation in your nasty little rag or I’ll sue,’ Alice declared. And hung up.

Chapter Sixteen

I Can Make It

Friday, 20 June 2008

By the end of the week, Katie was feeling low on energy, and low on smiles. It was seven days since she’d been picked up by the cabbie and taken on the mystery trip into Bristol which had culminated in the Hotel of Proposal Doom. A whole week since her life had swerved off track, seven days of thinking, remembering, agonizing. Seven days of loneliness.

She missed Steve. She really missed him. She felt as if her life had gone to pot without him. The house seemed hollow, too empty, too quiet. The bed was wide and cold. There was no one to share a bottle of wine with, no one to discuss the small, funny things of the day with. She missed hearing his key in the door, his ‘Hallo-o!’ when he came in from work.