Out of Step (23 page)

‘More wine?’ Nell asked.

‘No,’ he said, holding her glance. ‘I want to be totally
compos mentis
tonight.’ He put a hand out across the table and took one of hers.

‘Why?’ Her eyes looked darker than usual. Was it only because of the subdued light?

‘Because I want to know exactly what I’m doing.’

‘What did you have in mind?’ She took her hand back.

‘I’m not sure. What grabs you most: spontaneity or strategy?’

‘Mmm,’ Nell regarded him steadily. ‘Well, strategy can be a bit too inflexible maybe… but on the other hand, too much spontaneity can be disconcerting.’

‘What about honesty?’

‘Oh, honesty is absolutely essential.’

‘I’m glad about that.’

‘So, maybe an honest happy medium?’

‘Right.’ Rob took a breath. ‘Shall we go to bed?’

To his relief, Nell broke into a broad smile. ‘We didn’t mention finesse, did we?’

‘Never touch the stuff.’

‘So I see.’

‘Well then…’ Rob leant across the table and kissed her on the mouth. There was a sharp fizzing noise and the acrid smell of burning hair. ‘Shit!’ he exclaimed, slapping the side of his head. ‘Bloody candles!’

Nell burst out laughing and getting to her feet, switched on the lights. Then she blew out the candles, came round to his side of the table and took his hand.

‘Come on,’ she said, ‘it’s safer upstairs.’

Mic was coming to appreciate that she had finally met someone even more manipulative than herself, and she felt stumped. She now realised that whatever she did, Cassie would somehow top it. But she’s
dependent
on me, Mic thought, so how the fuck can she?

One incident in particular still rankled. She hadn’t wanted to hurt the children’s feelings way back on Christmas Day by saying, ‘No you can’t come. Me and Gav’s goin’ to me mum’s on our tod,’ which certainly was what she should have done, but which Cassie, of course, had banked upon her not saying … It had simply not occurred to her that Cassie would want to get rid of her own children on such a day. She, Mic Potton, was losing the plot! I’ve got to get out, she thought. It’s a nice warm house and everything, but it’s not worth selling my soul for. I could go back to Mum’s for a bit. I could maybe even get that council flat? I’ve been on the list long enough.

‘Mic?’ Cassie called from the front hall. ‘Did you do that ironing I asked you to?’

Right! Mic thought. Perfect opportunity. She walked to the top of the stairs and leant on the banister rail. ‘Nope,’ she said.

‘Oh, that’s too bad,’ Cassie said crossly. ‘I need that dress this afternoon. I thought you knew that.’

‘Ironing,’ Mic said, ‘is not part of me job. I fought
you
knew that.’

‘Oh, Mic,’ Cassie sighed, ‘you’re not having one of your moods again, are you? Is it the time of the month? It’s like trying to deal with a primitive trade union, negotiating
with you these days. I thought we agreed we wouldn’t have who-does-what disputes.’

‘Fine ‘slong’s it’s fifty-fifty,’ Mic said, ‘but it ain’t, is it?’

‘Well, you’re so much better at doing –’ Cassie began, but was interrupted by a quarrel breaking out on the landing behind Mic.

‘That’s mine!’ Gavin complained.

‘No it’s not. Everything in this house belongs to us!’ Josh shouted. ‘You don’t really live here.’

‘Stop it!’ Mic cried, whipping round and nearly clouting Josh on the back of the head. ‘Don’t you never let me hear you say that again, Josh Hayhoe. You got that?’

Cassie ran up the stairs. ‘Did she hit you?’ she demanded of her son. ‘I saw that!’ She rounded on Mic.

‘Course I bleedin’ didn’t,’ Mic retorted. ‘Not that he wasn’t askin’ for a slap.’

‘How
dare
you?’ Cassie shouted. ‘He’s absolutely right. Everything in this house is
ours
. You’re only here on sufferance.’

Mic clenched her teeth. ‘Right,’ she said, ‘that’s it. Pack up your things, Gav, we’re off.’ She went into their room and began stuffing her clothes into her rucksack.

‘You can’t do that,’ Cassie sneered, leaning against the doorframe. ‘You’ve got nowhere to go.’

‘Anywhere’s better’n here.’

‘You were grateful enough for my charity at the beginning.’

‘Charity be buggered!’ Mic almost laughed. ‘Slaves have done less than what I’ve done fer you. Anyway, you’ll be rubbish wivout me. Who’s goin’ ter pick up the pieces the next time you frow a wobbly? Eh?’

‘Please don’t concern yourself,’ Cassie said icily. ‘I’m not entirely without resources, you know.’

‘You must need ter make a lot of friends,’ Mic observed. ‘You certainly get froo ’em and spit ’em out again quick enough.’

‘What would you know about friends, a sponger like you?’ Cassie snorted.

‘You askin’ fer a fat lip or what?’ Mic advanced on her.

‘Oh, that’s right. Violence – the last resort of the incoherent.’

‘What, you mean like sarcasm – the last resort of the mental case?’

‘I’m not going to waste my time bandying words with someone like you,’ Cassie said wearily. ‘I’ve got better things to do,’ and she marched off, ushering an astonished Josh and Rosie before her.

‘Yeah, like the ironing fr’instance,’ Mic called after her.

‘Mum?’ Gavin asked, wide-eyed. ‘Where we goin’?’

‘To yer gran’s.’

‘Bu there isn’t r –’

‘Not anuvver word, right? I’ve had it up to ’ere.’

It didn’t take long to pack. Neither of them owned much. Mic took pleasure in leaving Cassie’s Christmas presents ostentatiously behind. She didn’t bother making the beds either, or unblocking the toilet. When they humped their luggage downstairs, Cassie was nowhere to be seen.

‘Good riddance!’ Mic shouted as they opened the front door. There was a howl and a scuffle. The kitchen door burst open, and Rosie came running out, crying noisily.

‘Don’t go… Mic!’ She clasped her round her knees and held on tightly.

‘Oh, Rosie …’ Mic very nearly wept too. ‘I’m sorry. I love you very much, yeah? This is nuffink to do wif you. It’s just your mum and me don’t get on.’

‘Don’t go, don’t go, don’t go,’ Rosie wailed.

Mic picked her up and kissed her on both cheeks. ‘I’ll see you again soon,’ she promised. ‘Straight up.’

‘Put her down!’ Cassie ordered, out of sight in the kitchen. ‘And leave your key on the hall front table.’

‘Bye, love,’ Mic said to Rosie. ‘Gotta go, OK?’ Then she
set the child on her feet again, shouldered her rucksack, and gave Rosie her front door key. ‘Tell you what,’ she said, ‘see how far you can sling that, eh?’

She and Gavin were halfway to the front gate by the time Rosie had stopped swinging her arm, and by the time the key had landed somewhere in a fallow flowerbed, they were walking side by side along the frosty pavement towards the town.

‘Knock, knock,’ Gavin said, after a while.

‘Who’s there?’

‘Ewan.’

‘Ewan who?’

‘You and me’s well outta there.’

Nell and Rob sat side by side in Nell’s big bed, propped up on pillows and drinking tea. It was Saturday morning and late, judging by the full daylight beyond the iced-up windows. Rob had on an old jersey to keep warm; Nell, the top of a pair of brushed cotton pyjamas.

‘You look like a cherub.’ He leant over to kiss her cheek.

‘I feel positively devilish,’ Nell said, ‘after last night!’

‘Was it all right?’

‘It was lovely.’ A little overemphatic?

‘But?’

‘Well, it was strange, wasn’t it? I suppose it always is, the first time you sleep with someone, especially if you’ve got into a routine with the person before. It takes time to adjust, to mesh… if that’s the word.’

‘To bed in?’ Rob suggested.

Nell smiled. ‘Mmm. I’m sure we will though, aren’t you?’

‘You haven’t had second thoughts?’

‘Certainly not! Why, have you?’

‘No,’ Rob said. ‘More tea?’

‘I’d love some, but you’ll have to get out of bed.’

‘Easy.’ He pushed back the duvet and went across to
the table where he’d left the teapot and milk on a tray. Nell admired the shape of his naked legs, and neat bum half hidden by the loose hem of the jersey. As a lover he’d been a fraction tentative, and she’d been obliged to assist him by saying ‘down a bit’ or ‘up a bit’ at times, when he’d seemed unsure of the topography. But Nell was convinced she could train him up; the potential was there. He was gentle and considerate and sweet, and she felt entirely at home with him. Who could ask for more?

He came back with the tea. ‘This “person before”…’ he began carefully, ‘… is he still around?’

Nell laughed. ‘Heavens no! He’s long gone. His name was Martin and he was a disaster – nothing like you.’

‘Well, that’s a relief.’

‘What about you?’

‘Me? Well, only Cassie as it happens.’

‘And … was that a success?’

‘Define your terms? We got the children, so yes … I suppose.’

No, Nell though, that wasn’t what I meant but now isn’t the time to pursue it. ‘I only wish we hadn’t wasted so much time,’ she said.

‘Well, it’s best not to rush these things.’ Rob put his mug down on the bedside table. ‘Look!’

A green woodpecker was flying past the window and away downstream in characteristic undulating flight, and calling loudly like an excited punter on a switchback ride:
Look at me! – whoops – look at me – whoops! – look
…

‘Yaffle,’ Nell said, identifying it. ‘I’ve just thought. You know some people keep a tally of birds and other animals seen from their gardens? Why don’t we make a list of everything seen from our bed?’

‘Haven’t we got better things to do?’ Rob raised an eyebrow.

Nell grinned. ‘So we have.’ She took her pyjama top off, and snuggled down. Rob was just pulling his sweater
over his head when the telephone beside the bed rang.

‘Hello?’ Nell said.

‘Mr Hayhoe please,’ a sharp woman’s voice said.

‘Oh, hang on, I’ll just see if I can find him.’ Nell winked at Rob. ‘Who’s speaking?’

‘Mrs Hayhoe.’

‘Oh… is that Cassie? This is Nell here. I was wonder –’

‘Just tell him to phone me,’ the voice interrupted. There was a crash.

Nell held the receiver away from her ear. ‘Terrific,’ she said. ‘The Mad Cow isn’t exactly sweetness and light, is she?’

‘What did she want?’

‘You to phone her.’

‘Oh Gawd,’ Rob groaned, ‘what’s she after now?’

‘She didn’t say. She was amazingly rude.’

‘That figures.’ Rob leant on one elbow and traced a finger round her mouth. ‘Lovely lips,’ he said. Nell held out her arms and pulled him down to join her. He sucked each of her nipples in turn, until they became pink and erect. Then he slid his hand over the curve of her stomach and down between her thighs. ‘There?’

‘Up a bit.’

Cassie waited impatiently for Rob to phone her back. The house was already in chaos: beds not made, washing-up not done, toys underfoot… Rosie had wet the bed again and the smelly sheets were still in a heap on the kitchen floor in front of the washing machine. Rosie herself was being even more bloody-minded than usual, and deliberately winding Josh up. She’s doing it on purpose to spite me, Cassie thought. How could a daughter of mine be so malicious? The answer was clear – she took after her father.

‘Why don’t you ring me, you bastard?’ she muttered. ‘Here I am, all on my own, trying to cope with two
hyperactive children, and there you are shacked-up with some totty and living the life of Riley! It’s time you bloody well took your responsibilities seriously.’

Then she discovered that the lavatory was blocked. This was the final straw. Everyone is conspiring against me, she thought. Why? And why should I put up with it? ‘Shut up, Rosie!’

This won’t do, she told herself. It’ll push me over the edge again. She made herself sit down with a cup of coffee and a Prozac. ‘Go away,’ she said to Rosie. ‘You’re making me ill. You too, Josh. Go and play in your rooms. I need some peace and quiet.’

‘But, Mum –’

‘GO AWAY!’

After half an hour she felt calmer. She knew exactly what she had to do. She stood at the bottom of the stairs and called, ‘Josh? Rosie? Get your coats on. We’re going for a ride.’

Elly phoned Nell late on the Saturday morning. They hadn’t been in touch since Boxing Day, and a lot had happened in the last month and a half. She was surprised Nell hadn’t already rung her. It was out of character for her to be silent for so long.

‘Nell? It’s me. How’s things?’

‘Elly! Lovely to hear you. Everything’s fine. How about you? Where are you?’

‘I’m at Ma’s, but I’m about to go down to the houseboat to live on my own for a while. I can’t take any more of Paul.’

‘It’ll be a bit cold and uncomfortable, won’t it?’

‘No, I’ve bought loads of fuel for the stove. I’ll be snug as a bug.’

‘Look, Elly, Rob and I have been talking. He’s told me to warn you about Bert.’

‘Too late,’ Elly said briskly. ‘I found out the hard way.’

‘Oh dear. What happened?’

‘It’s all off. I must have been stark raving mad. I’ve gone off the idea of acting too.’

‘So … what will you do?’

‘Live off the proceeds of the business for a while. Think of something else. I really don’t know.’

‘What about the boys?’

‘They’re fine. They’re being very adult about the whole mess, now they know it wasn’t my fault. And to be fair to Paul, it seems he handled them brilliantly in Switzerland so I feel a lot more relaxed on that front. The only problem is, Paul’s now saying he wants to take early retirement. It seems he can’t stand the stress at school any longer. Typical midlife crisis! So everything’s up in the air.’

‘But you’re not leaving the boys with him? I thought –’

‘Oh no, not entirely. Hat will be there for them, and they love being with her. Anyway, they’ll be down here most weekends as soon as the weather gets warmer, staying with me while their dad goes sailing. It’ll work out, you see.’

‘Well… yes, but you won’t live away from them for long, will you?’

‘Who knows? We’ve got to sell this house and divide the proceeds. Could take some time.’

‘So you’re still going ahead with the divorce then?’