Somebody to Love: Sigh With Contentment, Scream With Frustration. At Time You Will Weep. (11 page)

Two minutes later, Mark hovered at the lounge door, loosening his collar and looking more nervous than Donna felt.

‘Matt, I’d like you to meet Mark,’ she said, stepping in.

Casting Mark a cursory glance, Matt continued to stroke Findus, who was nestled in the crook of his arm, nibbling at his tee shirt.

So far, so good, Donna thought. ‘Mark’s a policeman.’

‘You don’t say,’ Matt replied, disinterested eyes fixed back on the TV.

Mark ran his hand over his neck and glanced at Donna in a what-do-I-say-now sort of way. ‘Findus looks comfortable,’ he tried.

Matt remained mute.

‘Looks like whatsitsname?’ Mark pondered. ‘Mr something. You know, in the James Bond film?’

‘Bigglesworth,’ Matt supplied, with a roll of his eyes. ‘And it’s not.’

‘Right,’ Mark nodded, and looked puzzled. So did Donna. ‘Er, not what?’

‘Not the James Bond film,’ Matt informed him dryly. ‘Mr Bigglesworth was Dr Evil’s cat, not Blofeld’s. He was also bald.’

Matt continued to run his fingers through his rabbit’s abundance of fur, now definitely looking like Mark’s archrival.

‘Ahh? Er, right.’ Marked nodded, and looked completely lost for words.

‘Austin Powers,’ Donna chipped in, by way of explanation. ‘You know, the, um… films? Ahem.’ She clapped her hands jollily in front of her as silence ensued, smiled apologetically at Mark, then bemusedly as Mark glanced at the TV, said, ‘Wow! Cool.
The Wrath of Khan
,’ and bounced on in.

‘Have you seen
Search For Spock
?’ he asked, plonking himself next to Matt on the sofa.

Matt’s gaze slid suspiciously sideways. ‘Downloaded it,’ he said guardedly.

‘Yeah? Blimey, wish I’d thought of that.’ Mark turned towards him, impressed. ‘What about
The Voyage Home
?’

‘Yep,’ Matt confirmed, now looking rather smug.

‘Cool.’ Mark went all sixties hippie again. ‘Did you see the bit where Scotty thought the computer mouse was a communicator?’

‘Yeah. Brilliant, wasn’t it?’ Matt nodded enthusiastically, warming to his subject, and towards Mark, if the volume dropping to enable hearing level was anything to judge by. ‘Have you seen the latest?’

‘No, not yet.’ Mark looked heartily disappointed. ‘You?’

‘Yep. S’good. Leonard Nimoy’s in it.’

‘So I heard. And the guy who plays Captain Kirk… Whatsisname?’

‘Chris Pine,’ Matt supplied.

‘Yeah, him. He’s supposed to be quite funny, isn’t he? So, have you seen all of the others?’

‘Yep.’ Matt looked suitably proud. ‘
Nemesis, Insurrection
…’

‘
The Final Frontier
,’ Mark picked up.

Generations
, Donna thought, next and current, sitting side-by-side with gleaming eyes glued to the telly. Well, they were obviously bonding. She decided to leave them trekking happily together while she made herself presentable in the bathroom.

Which was not going to be easy. Her hair was as flat as a pancake and with half her make-up washed off she was as pale as a ghost. Donna sighed and decided on
au natural
… ish. Just a teeny dab of bronzer and her hair tied up in a top knot.

Five minutes later, she walked back into the lounge, trying hard not to look like a sun-kissed pineapple, only to be greeted by Matt’s, ‘Oh my God, it’s hair Jim…’

‘… but not as we know it,’ Mark finished, hilariously.

Obviously a girl’s hair being a sensitive subject, Donna made a big show of not speaking to Mark.

Not that he would have noticed, she thought, sitting side-by-side with Sadie and Findus in arms, watching Mark stroll past, giving her a distracted smile and still talking animatedly with Matt as they headed to the hall. Having apparently decided Mark was all right, Matt was now keen to show him the other passion in his life — his clunking VW.

‘I could have pranced around in front of the TV stark naked with tassels on, couldn’t I, hon, and still he would have strained his eyes around me in search for Spock.’ Not that Donna would have pranced, unless they were extremely large tassels.

‘I wouldn’t,’ Mark said, coming back into the lounge ten minutes later to beam his best twinkly smile at her.

Donna, trying to work out who Khan was and how Spock was going to feature in the next film when he was dead, had lost the plot. ‘Wouldn’t what?’

‘Search for Spock in favour of you stark naked.’ Mark walked towards her, his eyes wickedly sexy as he bent to tease her lips with his. ‘Though you might have to lose the rabb… Ahem.’

Mark straightened up smartly as Matt waltzed into the lounge, his eyes sliding from Mark to his mother, then suspiciously back.

Mark coughed awkwardly. ‘I’d, er, better get off. Early start tomorrow, you know.’

‘Right.’ Donna scrambled to her feet and deposited Findus on the armchair, to Sadie’s befuddlement.

‘Right.’ Mark ran his hand through his hair, hesitated, then shook Donna’s hand. ‘Bye,’ he said, turning to shake Matt’s hand manfully, before heading to the hall.

Donna glanced at Matt, who rolled his eyes so high they were in danger of disappearing under his Bench cap. ‘You’d better go after him,’ he said, his mouth twitching into a smirk, as he retrieved his beloved rabbit in case Sadie sat on it, ‘before he finds a hole in the hall floor to disappear into.’

Donna laughed. Matt obviously approved. He must do if he considered Mark worthy of a whole energy-sapping sentence. ‘I’ll see you out,’ she called, scooting quickly after him.

****

Mark had started his engine when his mobile beeped from the hall floor. Uh, oh. It had obviously slipped out of his jacket pocket as they’d scrambled in from the rain. Donna turned to scoop it up, then waving it, dashed out of the front door. ‘Mark?!’

Damn. Too late. She ground to a halt as his tail-lights disappeared around the corner. Ah, well, never mind. She’d just ring him and…
Yes, excellent idea
. Not really likely to answer though was he, given she was clutching his mobile. So how was she going to get in touch with him? She hadn’t got his home number. Donna felt suddenly a teensy bit adrift.

Well, that was just silly. His number would be in his phone, somewhere. And if she couldn’t find it, she’d just reply to the last text sent, tell whoever it was he’d lost his mobile and ask them to contact him if they had another number. Simple.

She headed for the fridge for a snack — the events of the evening leaving her rather peckish, whilst trying to do the decent thing and not read the incoming text in too much depth. Perhaps she should send a message to all his contacts, she thought distractedly, reading it anyway, then almost choking on her Cadbury’s Whole Nut.
What time do U want me 2 come over tomorrow?
She read it again.
Will I need my toothbrush? Jody xx

Excuse me?! Who the bloody hell was Jody-kiss-kiss!?

Donna almost regurgitated a nut. And what the bloody hell was she doing
coming over
to his house? With a toothbrush?

Cleaning her teeth, obviously. Donna stuffed the last of the whole nut in her mouth and closed the fridge door. Then opened it again, extracted the leftover Easter egg she absolutely wasn’t going to eat and trailed into the lounge.

Checking to make sure there were no Findus-shaped cushions, she sank dejectedly onto the sofa. So what did she do now? Devouring half the egg in three seconds flat, Donna guiltily rewrapped the foil. She could hardly ring the woman and make slitty-eyed accusations, and she couldn’t ask Mark, because, apart from the fact that she shouldn’t be reading his texts, she hadn’t really tried that hard to find out anything about him. She had no rights, whatsoever. If he had a harem queuing outside his bathroom brandishing toothbrushes, she had no right to question or judge him.

Miserably, Donna picked at the foil and slowly peeled it back. She should have known. Did know, deep down. That he… That any man, especially a good-looking man, would cheat on her sooner or later and she’d be hurt all over again.

Thank God she’d protected herself, stipulated no complications from outset and not allowed herself to get too emotionally involved. She’d just cut her losses and, um… Ahem.

Donna dragged a hand under her nose, tugged in a deep breath… but a great, fat tear plopped into her eggshell anyway.

****

Detached. Donna reminded herself what she should be when doorbell rang half an hour later. Emotionally unfettered.

He’d come back for his mobile, presumably. Well, she heaved herself off the sofa, stuffed all evidence of chocolate over-indulgence under a cushion, braced herself and headed for the door.

She wouldn’t demean herself anymore. Uh,uh. Absolutely not. No way was she about to turn into a snarling green-eyed monster; demanding to know why he had a woman staying over with no luggage bar a toothbrush and a fictitious lodger to back up his lies. She didn’t care.

At all. ‘
Sniffle
’.

Hoisting up her shoulders, Donna quickly checked her face in the hall mirror, then swung the front door wide — to find Alicia and Evelyn standing side-by-side, Alicia with her tongue hanging out, in anticipation of juicy details, no doubt, and her mum wearing half Alicia’s new Next collection and
what-have-you-been-up-to
expression on her face.

Chapter Seven

‘Has he gone?’ Alicia peered interestedly past Donna up the hall.

‘Definitely,’ Donna reported gloomily, not sure she was ready for a
post mortem
.

‘Good. The doorstep’s a bit drafty, Donna. Do try and answer a bit more quickly next time.’ Evelyn stepped in, painted toes protruding from peep-toes — Alicia’s — and a bottle of
Sauvignon Blanc
in hand.

‘Give us the goss, then.’ Alicia followed, wheeling a pyjama-clad Jack before her.

‘And a corkscrew, darling.’ Evelyn handed Donna the wine and headed for the lounge.

‘Oh, and some cheese and biscuits would be nice,’ she called. ‘I’m starving. Dot’s trying to diet, so we’re both on a diet. I left her watching Kelly and Flavia’s Strictly Dancing DVD, trying to jive her way to a honed backside. I think she quite fancies getting down and dirty with that little Italian one. Personally, I’d prefer a few hot moves with that moody Brendan Cole myself.’

‘In your dreams.’ Alicia laughed, handing Donna her Yummy Mummy baby bag, then heading after Evelyn. ‘I think he prefers tall women to mature ones, Mum.’

‘I know.’ Evelyn’s voice drifted from the lounge. ‘Never mind though, I can live with substituting food for sex, especially if Donna can find me a bit of chocolate for afters. Oh, not to worry, I’ve found some.’

Donna sighed and heaved her baggage to the kitchen. Cheese and crackers, she suspected, even with chocolate for afters would be no substitute for Mark.

****

‘Come on then, spill the beans.’ Alicia helped herself to wine and patted the seat beside her. ‘What’s he like?’

Donna checked on Jack, who, with his thumb in his mouth, was contentedly watching his
CBeebies
DVD form his pushchair. Sighing again, heavily, she plucked up a cheese cracker, and plonked herself down. ‘Quite nice,’ she said, guessing she was going to be grilled about Mark whether she liked it or not.

‘Riveting, I’m sure, but I meant in the bedroom department.’

‘Alicia!’ Donna spat cracker. ‘I haven’t… We haven’t…’ She trailed off, flushing furiously.

‘Done it?’ Alicia gawped, her wine glass halfway to her mouth. ‘Why ever not? The electricity between you two could light up the streetlights.’

Donna’s shoulders slumped. She so didn’t want to be reminded of Mark’s twinkly-eyed smile, which had lit up her world, for a little while.

‘Donna, I know you’re not the sort to leap into bed willy-nilly,’ Alicia said, gently, ‘but a second date’s not too soon, you know, honey. Unless he’s married, of…’

‘He’s not,’ Donna cut in. But then, he might as well be. There she’d been agonising about how she was going to bare all, emotionally as well as physically, and he’d probably wanted no complications more than she did. She might as well have had a blooming one-night-stand. At least then she might have laid a few ghosts in the process.

‘Hmm, well, I wouldn’t leave it too long, if I were you,’ Alicia suggested. ‘He is rather attractive, isn’t he? Most single women of a certain age would kill for him. A few married women I know would kill their husbands for him. If you don’t bag him, he might just be tempted to go off with…’

‘In which case, he’d be a very shallow man, wouldn’t he? And I won’t have lost out on much other than a quick bonk.’

Donna humphed, took a huge slurp of wine, and choked on it.

‘Leave it, Alicia,’ Evelyn said, scrambling out of her recliner to give Donna a hearty slap on the back. ‘Donna doesn’t have to compromise her principles just because men are bound to go off with slimmer, dimmer young things, do you darling?’

Donna choked harder.

Evelyn nudged Alicia over, who shrugged and went to check on Jack.

‘So what’s he really like, this new man, hmm?’ Evelyn cajoled, wrapping an arm around Donna. ‘Trustworthy, I hope.’

‘Tall, dark and handsome,’ Alicia supplied as she rolled Sadie’s ball for her, which Sadie duly hopped after, which delighted little Jack, who clapped his podgy hands excitedly.

‘I gathered he might be. And?’ Evelyn looked expectantly at Donna.

‘Blue eyes,’ Donna imparted, after a more discreet sip of wine. ‘Really blue, you know, and kind of… twinkly,’ she said, hoping to distract Evelyn from a character assassination of Mark.

She knew her mother was only trying to be protective, her own marriage being one she’d suffered for the sake of her daughters. Their father had never been very supportive of Evelyn, complaining about the ‘state of the house’ when she’d gone back to teaching, necessarily. He drank and moaned, and — the girls suspected — womanised, and had finally given Evelyn an ultimatum.
Me or the teaching
. Evelyn, though, would rather have cut off her arm than her means of earning an income. Of a generation of women who’d learned to be economically independent, she’d never compromised her principles since, nor would she.