Somebody to Love: Sigh With Contentment, Scream With Frustration. At Time You Will Weep. (26 page)

Donna shook her head. ‘No, I shouldn’t think so. He wouldn’t know whether Matt was in, and he’d realise it might be a bit awkward. He was good like that.’

‘Right. So, just supposing he did,’ Simon shot off the chair, ‘he wouldn’t have a nervous habit of any sort, would he?’

Donna stopped ferreting for her flower and looked at Simon.

Simon was looking out of the window. ‘Such as running a hand through his hair, perchance?’

Donna’s eyes grew wide.

‘
Sh… ugar
!’ They gulped in unison as the doorbell rang.

‘Oh, my God! Simon! You have his uniform on, and I have…’ Donna glanced down at her state of no-dress. ‘
Eeeuuw
, what do I do?!’

‘Don’t panic!’ Simon promptly panicked, heading fast for the stairs.

‘
Noooo
, not that way!’ Donna threw herself across the room, ready to rugby-tackle him to the floor. ‘He’ll see you going down.’

Simon turned heel. ‘Where then? I know, the bathroom’

‘No! The bathroom door’s opposite the stairs. Your legs look nothing like mine.’

They both had a quick appraisal of legs and unanimously agreed.

‘Well, where else?’ Simon looked definitely panicky now. ‘Ooh, do hurry up, Donna. I don’t have much more blood left to give.’

‘Matt’s room.’ Donna headed for Matt’s door.

‘Good idea.’ Simon rolled his eyes. ‘I’ll give Matt a wave from under the duvet, shall I, if he comes home while lover-boy’s here?’

Hell
! He was right. Donna propelled Simon back towards her bedroom. Matt would
not
be impressed if he came back to find Simon in his bed wearing Mark’s spare uniform.

Simon dug his heels in. ‘Donna, I don’t want to appear awkward,’ he said, practically clinging to the doorframe, ‘but I’m thinking if you kiss and make up, your bedroom is the one place he’s
bound
to want to use.
Oui
?’

‘Simon, we won’t. He won’t… For goodness sake,’ Donna gave him a shove, ‘Simon,
get
in.’

‘But can’t you just explain?’ Simon suggested. ‘I mean, it’s all perfectly innocent, isn’t —’

‘
Explain
? Innocent?’ Donna gawked. Whatever Mark and she were, or weren’t, she didn’t want him to see her like this. She’d be a fine one demanding explanations, wouldn’t she? ‘Simon, we’re both in a state of inappropriate undress. Upstairs. Together! What do you suggest I tell him?’

‘That we were trying fancy dress on.’ Simon tried hopefully.

Donna folded her arms, and looked the length and breadth of him. It didn’t really help, she felt not inclined to point out, that his fly was undone and his shirttails were hanging out.

Simon looked Donna up and down, taking in her knicker-skimming no-dress. ‘Not very convincing, really, is it? I’ll hide in the wardrobe.’

Chapter Seventeen

Donna raced back to the stairs, tugged down her dress, then sauntered — as nonchalantly as one could in white boots and a dress that screamed red light — downstairs. This was awful.
He
was the one who’d been up to no good. So why did she feel like a nun caught out in public in French knickers?

Right, shoulders up, head high and keep calm.
He probably won’t even notice. She searched for her inner poise, pulled open the door, then almost closed it in his face when Mark’s eyes shot to her thighs.

‘Donna,’ he said, his expression mildly perplexed. ‘I, er… How are you?’

‘Up here,’ Donna suggested.

‘Oh, right.’ Mark averted his gaze. ‘Sorry,’ he said, trying to keep his eyes at an appropriate level, only for them to slide slowly back down.

Coming to rest on the flat petals peering not very provocatively from her cleavage, Donna realised, her poise wilting somewhat.

‘Interesting… broach?’ Mark speculated.

‘It’s for my hair,’ Donna said quickly, lest he think she always used her breasts as a flower press. ‘But it wouldn’t stay there.’

‘Would you like to come in?’ she asked, as Mark looked as if he was about to
stay there
, taking in the view.

‘Yes, if that’s okay. Thanks.’ Mark stepped in, with a puzzled little shake of his head.

‘You said you were going to ring,’ Donna pointed out, as she closed the door.

‘I was but, I, er… Is this an inconvenient time, Donna? Because if it is, I…’

‘No, no,’ Donna assured him. ‘Not at all. I was just getting ready for bed, that’s all, and I, um… Ahem.’

Donna smiled weakly as Mark looked her up and down bemusedly.

‘I just thought I’d try on my fancy dress,’ Donna went on, improvising madly, as she lead the way up the hall. ‘You know before I put my jim-jams on after my bath.’ She pointed the way to the lounge.

‘Like you do.’ Mark cocked his head to one side, had another little perusal of her aspiring tart’s apparel, and his mouth curved into an amused smile.

Thank God. Donna’s poise had all but gone-gone. She relaxed a little, much preferring to see Mark smile than look as heartbreakingly sad as he did last time she saw him. ‘Can I get you some tea?’ Donna offered him a small smile back. ‘Coffee?’
Ear plugs
?

Donna smiled slipped as something clunked, then scraped up above, causing Mark’s eyes to dart towards the stairs.

Hell
! ‘Sadie, sweetheart?’ Donna called, sounding slightly demented. ‘Where are y… Ooh! There you are.’ Her eyes went into blink overdrive as a wet nose nuzzled the back of her thighs.

‘Damn. It must be the vase falling off the shelf in the bedroom, again. The blind hits it,’ Donna explained, squeezing past an ever more-bemused Mark. ‘You know, when the, um, wind blows through the, er… Won’t be a tic.’

She took the first four steps of the stairs at a run, then stopped, her cheeks flushing furiously as she realised her cheeks below might possibly be on show.

‘Do you want to go on in?’ She turned her posterior strategically to the wall and nodded towards the lounge. ‘I’ll just go and, um…’
strangle Simon
.

Mark looked on bewildered as Donna thumped on up, her hands plastered to her bum.

She really was crackers. He shook his head again as he went into the lounge. Crackers in the nicest possible way though, and he couldn’t help but love her for…

Love her. It didn’t hit him like a thunderbolt. That had happened the first time they’d touched. He’d felt it shake him to the core. As did the high-voltage jolt when their eyes locked. When he saw the vulnerability in hers. The obvious caring, though it was plain from outset she’d had been scared of caring too much.

When their lips met, he’d been lost. Truly lost. Because, though he hadn’t acknowledged it then, he knew
he
was in grave danger of caring too much. Of falling too hard, too soon, when he quite simply couldn’t afford to.

He had fallen though, big time.

He was in love with Donna O’Connor.

Mark laughed quietly, bent to stroke the three-legged dog Donna so obviously adored, and wondered, could she ever feel the same about him?

Especially now, after he’d been so busy thinking the world revolved around him and his problems. And what had Donna been doing while he had? Determinedly getting on with her life, trying to improve that of others. Of Karl and other kids like him.

Mark had loved her more then, as he’d watched her, empathising with his son as if it were second nature. He’d been in awe of her.
Was in awe of her still
.

He’d treated her badly. Underrated her. Been less than truthful with her. As good as flaunted another woman in her face.

Now, he needed to try to put it right, though where the hell to start? ‘What would you do, Sadie?’ He smiled, looking into the dog’s beguiling brown eyes. Okay, I’m not proud. His smile broadened as Donna came back into the lounge, Sadie immediately bounding over to jump up and greet her. If that’s what it took, he’d take the dog’s cue and beg.

‘Nothing too worrying up there, then?’ he asked, straightening up.

‘What?’ Donna looked at him, looking preoccupied. Probably wondering how she was going to tell him she didn’t want anything to do with him.

‘Donna…’ he said, stepping towards her.

‘Mark, I…’ Donna did likewise.

And…
Jesus.
There it was again, that jolt. It was physical. Did she feel it? Mark searched Donna’s eyes.

‘Sorry,’ they both said together.

‘I…’ They both tried again.

Donna dropped her gaze. ‘Sorry,’ she mumbled.

Mark tilted her chin up and pressed a finger softly to her lips. ‘Never apologise, Donna,’ he reminded her, grazing her cheek with his thumb, ‘especially when the other person
does
have something to apologise for. And, trust me, I have plenty.’

Donna looked at him, confusion in her eyes — and hurt. Hurt he’d put there. Mark hated himself for that. Could he detect a glimmer of hope in there somewhere though? God, he hoped so.

‘So, if you have all night, I’ll start.’

‘As long as I don’t have to spend all night in my go-go gear.’ Donna smiled, and Mark fought an overwhelming urge to pull her into his arms there and then.

‘Do you want to go back upstairs?’ he offered.

Donna’s eyes shot wide.

Perfect. Mark sighed inside. Why didn’t he go for seriously crass and add ‘to slip into something more comfortable’ while he was at it?

‘I meant to, er, get…’ He trailed off, running his hand nervously through his hair. ‘I’m not doing this very well, am I?’

‘Um,’ Donna ran the tip of her tongue over her lips, ‘I’m not sure,’ she said, obviously nervous for reasons of her own, but if she did that again, Mark thought it might be kinder if she just shot him. He couldn’t do this, stand so close to her and not hold her.

‘Donna, I wanted to explain,’ he started again, ‘about Karl, about… other stuff. But, before I do, I wanted to say thank you — for being you. For being caring enough to do what you did today with Karl.’

Donna blushed, beautifully in Mark’s eyes. ‘I couldn’t have done it without Sadie and Starbuck. They were the real stars.’ She smiled, that same light in her eyes he’d noticed when she first talked about what mattered to her.

‘I know,’ he conceded, ‘but you were the inspiration. It was inspiring, Donna. Truly. You didn’t just get a kid to wear his shoes. You helped him take a step towards learning to cope with life. Do you know how amazing that is? How many traumas you’ve averted? How many tears? And I’m not just talking about Karl’s.’

Mark held her gaze.

Donna held his, gauging him, wondering about him, no doubt. ‘It’s what I want to do,’ she said. ‘Use my art. Work with children, though I wasn’t sure I was capable of rising to the task, to be honest.’

‘I gathered.’ Mark nodded, more appreciative than she could possibly realise. ‘And believe me, you are. You’re a special person, Donna O’Connor. No man in his right mind would ever want to lose you, and if I have, because I didn’t realise how special you are, because I didn’t tell you about Karl, because I thought I would lose you,’ Mark tugged in a breath, ‘then I probably don’t deserve you.’

‘Sorry?’ Donna blinked up at him, obviously confused.

‘I wish you’d stop doing that.’

‘Sorry.’ Donna glanced down.

Saints preserve us
. ‘No, Donna,’ Mark tilted her chin up, again, ‘not that. Well, yes, that.’ He shrugged, confusing himself. ‘I meant would you please stop looking so damned distractingly beautiful. You see, I keep losing my train of thought.’

And my willpower to resist kissing you is all but depleted too
, he didn’t add.

Donna laughed.

‘Beautiful,’ Mark repeated. ‘Your hair, your face, your body,’ he glanced down, despite his warning to himself that he really should not be doing that. ‘Outside and inside, you’re a beautiful person, Donna. Don’t let anyone ever tell you you’re not.’

Donna swallowed, tugged on a strand of her hair, which was sexily messy, and which Mark badly wanted to run his hands through; then glanced down again. ‘I bet you say that to all the girls.’

‘Not all of them, no,’ Mark assured her, with a half-hearted smile.

‘Oh?’ She said, looking back up.

Mark lost the smile. That
oh?
was loaded. She was looking for answers to questions. And he knew he’d better have the right answers.

He took a deep breath. She probably wouldn’t believe him. Michelle, after all, was so hands all over him, Donna might as well have walked in on them half-naked in his bedroom.

‘The girl you saw with me with, Michelle… She’s just a friend, Donna. An intimate one once, but not anymore,’ Mark tried to explain, the only way he could without adding insult to injury and lying. ‘And, yes, we might have been intimate the other night, but we weren’t, Donna, I promise. I would never even have gone out with Michelle if I’d thought there was the remotest chance, you and I…’

Mark stopped, noting the look on Donna’s face, which was a mixture of mistrust and more hurt.

Not surprisingly. Whichever way he said it, the fact that he could go out with an ex-intimate friend at the drop of a hat with a view to picking up the intimacy pretty much said it all, he supposed.

‘So,’ Donna said, at length, ‘not your sister then?’

Mark sighed inside. What did he expect? She wasn’t going to say, no problem, let’s pick up where we left off. She was more likely to tell him to piss off, which she had every right to.

‘No, not my sister.’ He glanced down.

‘But Jody-kiss-kiss and silken-haired Sally are, presumably,’ Donna went on, ‘on the assumption you don’t have an actual harem?’

Mark snapped his head up. ‘Who and who and…
What
?’

‘Jody-kiss-kiss, the one who comes with her toothbrush, no doubt wears dental floss in bed, and has an extremely dexterous thumb!’

Mark squinted at her, concerned. ‘Donna, have you gone nuts?’

‘No,’ Donna assured him sweetly, ‘but I may claim insanity if you lie to me, Mark Evans! Who is she?’

Donna eyed him narrowly.

Mark shook his head. ‘Jody kiss… Jody!’ The texts, of course. Mark looked back to Donna, hugely relieved.