Somebody to Love: Sigh With Contentment, Scream With Frustration. At Time You Will Weep. (2 page)

And the emergency that had taken priority over taking his son shopping for the new ice-cool trainers he’d promised him for his birthday? The Pekinese wasn’t well and needed to go the vet, Jeremy had said, leaving Donna thinking the poor dog must be close to death. Yet, here they were, the happy trio. Jeremy smiling away — apparently not a care in the world, the Peke looking not at all peaky, and the Twiglet looking… well, blank, her botoxed face having all the expression of a boiled egg… and wearing hair. Lots of hair. Glossy, truffle coloured, extremely long hair. Hmm? New extensions, Donna wondered. She squinted a bit. Yes, definitely extensions arranged artistically around breasts that would still be up and out there when the rest of her had given in to gravity.

Implants. Donna would bet her life on it. At least Donna’s were all her own. She promptly breathed in, trying to look thin, whilst thrusting her own less abundant frontage up and out there.

The Twiglet was dressed in designer, presumably. Not that Donna had a clue about labels, beyond which High Street stores labelled generously. She looked the woman’s attire surreptitiously over: a horse print tee — Stella MC possibly, black tailored jacket over, and figure-enhancing jeans under, she looked every inch what she claimed to be: An ex-model, with her own stables and rich daddy, who would make sure she and her horses were well-shod for life.

Realising she was on a mission impossible, Donna breathed out, before she expired. She couldn’t hope to measure up. Nor would she aspire to, had Jeremy not constantly measured her up, even to past women in his life, all of whom seemed to have been younger, thinner, bubblier and cleverer than she.

That wasn’t the Twiglet’s fault though. Reluctantly, Donna retracted her claws. The woman couldn’t help it if, like the others before her, she’d been taken in by Jeremy’s broody good looks and smooth repartee. She’d learn in time that the ‘broody’ was more moody and the repartee was designed to impress.

So, what was he doing here? Jeremy didn’t do dog-walking, any more than he did monogamy.

‘Just back from the vet’s,’ Jeremy enlightened her. ‘Thought we’d give the poor little chap a quick walk before taking him home, didn’t we, Leticia?’

Leticia batted tarantula lashes and manoeuvred her mouth into a smile.

‘I see.’ Donna waited for Jeremy to mention the other not-so-little chap in his life, his son. Jeremy didn’t.

Fine.
Donna wasn’t about to remind him he’d got one. ‘He doesn’t look too poorly, though, does he?’ She glanced down at the Pekinese, who looked perfectly bright-eyed and bushy-tailed.

‘Gippy tummy.’ Jeremy patted his own, and petted the Peke, which was up on its little hind legs begging attention. He didn’t pet Sadie, even though she was wagging her tail, having known him all her life.

‘Right. Well…’ Donna swallowed a little lump in her throat. ‘I’d better get off,’ she said breezily, clapping her gloved hands in front of her. ‘Things to do, errands to run.’

‘Boyfriend not in tow, then?’ Jeremy enquired interestedly, glancing past Donna, who braced herself for one of his unfunny little witticisms.

He knew very well she hadn’t got an actual boyfriend. He was referring to her work colleague, Simon, presumably, whom Jeremy had spotted her out walking with in Worcester last Saturday. ‘No.’ She smiled tightly. ‘Simon’s not with me today. It’s a work day, Jeremy. I’m on a day off.’ Of which Donna had few, and Jeremy, who ran his own accountancy business, seemed to have many.

‘I meant heterosexual men, Donna.’ He dripped sarcasm, smiling that smarmy smile Donna had actually once thought attractive.

Damn. She should have known better than to rise to the bait. She’d been trying to deflect the open insinuation that no man would be in tow, because no man could possibly be interested. Simon, a dear friend as well as a work colleague, didn’t qualify as a man in Jeremy’s xenophobic opinion, though Simon was twice the man Jeremy could ever be.

‘If you’re asking whether I’m dating, Jeremy, then the answer is yes.’ Tired of his condescension, Donna lied through her teeth. ‘For your information, since you’re obviously so interested in my personal life, he’s good looking, tends not to like being towed or pushed around — anymore than he would dream of towing or pushing women around.’ She paused in hopes of making the point. ‘He’s definitely a sex-addict like you, Jeremy, but
unlike
you he’s well-endowed and rather good at it. He’s also a gentleman.’

Noting the flash of humiliation in Jeremy’s eyes, Donna turned with satisfaction to the Twiglet. ‘Attentive in bed,’ she explained, with a smug little smile.

‘Yes, well, let’s hope his
attentiveness
reaps some reward, hey?’ Jeremy remarked, with soul-crushing sarcasm. ‘Nice to see you, Donna,’ he went on, before Donna could retaliate. ‘Better get off though. Clients to see and whatnot, you know? Do give my best to your mother.’

Oh, dear. He’d got a plum stuck in his mouth. Upset though she was, Donna almost laughed at Jeremy’s regal tones, quite obviously adopted to impress the Twiglet.

Donna oozed plumminess back. ‘Oh, I
do
know, Jeremy. I’m doing overtime now, as well as fulltime. But then, one does love one’s little luxuries,
you know?
Like food. How about you? Do you work, um?’ Donna turned to the Twiglet, deliberately forgetting her name.

‘Leticia.’ The Twiglet supplied. ‘I’m in equitation, actually.’

Donna blinked. ‘Pardon?’

‘I ride.’

‘Ah.’ Donna nodded, enlightened. ‘I do, too,
actually
,’ she said chummily. ‘I have a little fold up I carry in the car. It has a puncture at the moment, but I’m a dab-hand with a bicycle pump.’ Honestly, did the woman have to have an exotic job to match her eyebrows? Couldn’t she have worked in an estate agent’s?

‘Horses, Donna. She rides horses,’ Jeremy informed her, with an elongated sigh.

‘Really? How very brave of you. ‘Aren’t you afraid you might fall off and burst something?’ Donna studied Leticia curiously.

Jeremy rolled his eyes, apparently not impressed. ‘Come on, darling.’ He sighed and took hold of one of the Twiglet’s offshoots. ‘Don’t you have a horse to put through its paces for the British Open? I’m sure Donna’s far too busy to stand here chatting.’

The darling had come out dah-ling. God, he really did think he was Prince Charming.

‘Yes I do, as it happens,’ Donna informed him flatly. ‘I have to pop to the garage to oil a mechanic by way of payment for my clapped-out car. Lovely to meet you, Patricia. By the way, do be careful if you’re joining her in the riding lark, dah-ling.’ She turned back to Jeremy, her brow knitted in concern. ‘I’ve heard it can do terrible things to a man’s virility.’

‘Very witty.’ Jeremy shot her a derisory glance.

Donna thought so, for her anyway. But then, she had learned from the best. ‘Would you like a wet wipe?’ she asked him.

‘What?’ Jeremy looked at her now as if she were mentally challenged.

‘A wet wipe,’ Donna repeated, nodding down at his shoes as she ferreted through doggy supplies in her pockets.

She handed Jeremy a good handful of wipes, which he’d certainly need. ‘Well, bye, bye. Must trot off. Do have a nice day.’

With which Donna turned away, leaving Jeremy gingerly lifting one tarnished patent leather loafer.

‘God, Leticia?! Can’t you put a nappy on it or something?’ Jeremy’s miffed, and rather less regal, tones drifted after her.

‘Titan is a
he,
not an
it
,’ Leticia informed him shortly.

Titan? Donna’s mouth curved into a delighted smile. Well, well. The woman obviously had a sense of humour. If it wasn’t for Jeremy, Donna had a feeling she could even like her.

‘What on earth do you expect anyway, wearing your business shoes to walk through the park,’ Leticia went on, obviously peeved. ‘I didn’t ask you to come to the vet’s, Jeremy.’

Donna snuck a peek over her shoulder, at Leticia plucking up her midget-sized Titan and strutting off, which wasn’t terribly helpful to Jeremy, who’d been holding her shoulder for support while he cleaned off his shoe. Yes, under different circumstances, Donna and Leticia might definitely have bonded.

As for Jeremy, served him right. Hoity-toitying it all over the place. If there were any justice in the world, Leticia’s horse would dump on Jeremy’s other shoe.

‘Come on, Sade.’ Donna walked on, glad that Jeremy at least didn’t get to saunter off with the upper hand, as he usually did. ‘Let’s go and fantasise about our attentive, well-endowed lover on the way to the boring old library. Not that Donna was sure she’d know what to do with an attentive, well-endowed lover if she fell on one.

****

‘
Sh… ugar
!’ Donna balked at the patrol car parked behind her suspect PT Cruiser, as she came out of the library an hour later. Oh, no, not again. She noted the police officer emerging from the post-office her car was smack-bang in front of, and her heart sank. She couldn’t afford any more points on her driving licence. She’d already achieved the impossible, notching up six points in two weeks. Panicky, she broke into a run, cleared the six or so yards between them in five seconds flat, and skidded to a halt just short of bowling him over.

‘
He-llooo!
’ she sing-songed cheerily, hoping to distract him from the double yellow lines someone had thoughtlessly parked under her car.

The officer looked at her bemused, as if no one in the world ever said hello to a policeman. Well, they probably didn’t quite so effusively. Nice eyes. China blue and sort of… twinkly. Donna tried to dismiss a disconcerting little flip in the base of her tummy and come up with a halfway intelligent statement that might keep him distracted.

‘Have you got the time?’ she asked, earth-shatteringly.

‘If you’ve got the place,’ he answered as quick as a flash, which left Donna distracted, not least because the smile that accompanied his quip was so sexually charged he could have any flesh-and-blood female panting without even removing his cap. He could certainly have her. Donna was tempted to tell the alluring officer she
had
got the place — a spacious double bed that hadn’t seen much action, apart from snoring with her dog, and drag him off by his tie.

Mathew though, who, at the grand old age of just seventeen, fancied himself as man of the house, might not be impressed if he emerged from his bedroom to find a semi-naked policeman on the landing.

As if. She’d need implants first, boobs plus self-esteem, which her tumultuous marriage had left sloshing about in her shoes. Donna knew the hurtful comments Jeremy had made re her performance in bed — or lack of — were manufactured to excuse his own adulterous behaviour, but from seeds of doubt…

Thus her visit to the library for an instruction manual.

Her shoulders slumped as the police officer squinted interestedly past her to her illegally parked car. That was it. The game was up. Short of draping herself over the bonnet or fainting, there was nothing else she could do to distract him. She might as well go quietly.

‘I, um…’ She searched for a lie that wouldn’t sound contrived, and came up with nothing.

The officer squinted some more, then cocked his head to one side.

‘Unbelievable,’ he said, pushing his cap back. ‘Your dog only has three legs.’

‘What?’ Donna blinked, surprised, then quickly rearranged her face lest he think she hadn’t noticed her dog’s leg-less predicament. ‘I know.’ She smiled fondly as Sadie hopped from one seat to another, her tail swishing manically. ‘Gorgeous, isn’t she?’

‘Amazing,’ he said, walking around to the driver’s side to get a better look. ‘She was sitting up so straight, I didn’t notice at first.’

‘She’s very proud.’ Donna joined him, peering through the window next to him. Head level with him. Very close to him. Mmm. What was that aftershave? Scrummy. Donna’s nose twitched. Oops, she was in terrible peril of having a closer sniff of him.

‘Labrador, isn’t she?’

‘Labrador/Old English Mastiff cross,’ Donna confirmed, preferring her tri-legged non-pedigree to the Twiglet’s Pekinese any day. ‘That’s why she looks so proud. She has a big, um, chest, you know.’ Actually, that wasn’t the whole reason why. Sadie had a strong disposition and a huge personality, which was why she’d been sitting so tall. Despite her missing front leg, Sadie didn’t give in easily, which was why Donna loved her, unequivocally.

‘Road accident?’ he asked, his brow furrowed in concern as he continued to look Sadie over.

‘Cancer. She’s fine now. Loving life. But they had to remove the leg to save her. I wasn’t sure I’d done the right thing at first. You know, I got her home from the op and I thought Oh, my God, what have I done? She looked so frail. But the next day, she was up and hopping, and she’s never looked back.’

He gave a low whistle. ‘Lucky dog,’ he said, ‘to have an owner with such a big heart.’

‘Yes,’ Donna agreed, a bit giddily as he turned his face towards her, a warm smile now dancing in his pretty blue eyes. Good Lord, he was growing tastier by the minute. If he came any closer, she’d be tempted to have a little bite of him. Donna’s heart expanded to fit his description of it, pitter-pattering against her ribcage.

‘I’d better get off.’ She dragged in a breath and straightened up before she drooled on his shoes. ‘I’m just on my way back from the vet’s and I don’t want to leave her in the car too long. I just had to run into the library and renew my book.’ She waved her free hand at the car door.

‘Oh, sorry,’ he said, stepping back.

She made a grab for the handle, hoping to make a quick getaway, and that’s when it happened. At the exact same time, he reached for the handle, too, and sparks literally flew.

He snatched his hand back. Donna almost jumped out of her skin. The book slipped from under her arm. He bent to retrieve it and — poof went any hopes of Donna doing demure.

Horrified, Donna clamped her hand over her mouth as he glanced curiously at the book, then back to her.
Sex and the Single Girl
stared up at them from the pavement.

‘PC Mark Evans,’ he said, standing up.