Strictly Love (14 page)

‘I'm sure,’ maintained Rob. ‘After all, like you said, they've got a great safety record. What could possibly go wrong?’

Mark sank down into Emily's soft white sofa with a contented sigh. It had seemed natural to walk her home after the restaurant, and even more natural to follow her in for coffee.

‘Actually, do you really want coffee?’ Emily came in the room clutching a bottle of wine, a corkscrew and two glasses. ‘I fancy some more wine myself.’

‘I think I can cope,’ said Mark. ‘And I have the perfect accompaniment.’

‘Oh?’

‘Ta-da!’ Mark waved aloft his
Green Wing
DVD. ‘I think we still have a couple of episodes left to watch.’

Emily loaded the DVD and clicked on episode nine, before settling down beside Mark. He sat staring at her in silent awe. She was so gorgeous. He was overcome with an overwhelming need to kiss her.

‘What?’ she said, as if suddenly aware of his interest. ‘Have I got a big zit on the end of my nose or something?’

‘No,’ said Mark, edging closer towards her. It had been eons since he'd been near a woman, since he'd been in a situation like this. And now he was here, he had a sudden urgent worry that Emily might not be interested after all. ‘I was just thinking – well, wondering if you were thinking –’

‘Thinking what?’ she asked.

‘What I was thinking?’

‘Which is?’ Emily gave him a look that made his heart flip over.

She was thinking what he was thinking.

‘Only this,’ said Mark, and kissed her.

Chapter Seventeen

 

‘Dad, do we have to go out?’ Gemma was whining as Mark rushed round the kitchen trying to throw things together for a picnic.

‘Yes, we do,’ said Mark. ‘It's a bank holiday, the sun is shining – at the moment – and I thought a nice day out would be just the thing to break the ice between you and Emily.’

‘Suppose I don't want the ice broken,’ said Gemma sulkily. She was sporting a black T-shirt bearing the legend
Your worst nightmare
, a black miniskirt and leggings with skulls on. Her hair had been slicked and spiked into a hairstyle that would have looked alarming on the most determined of goths. He couldn't quite work out whether she resembled a porcupine or a spiny urchin. She was certainly spiky enough for both.

‘Gemma,’ Mark was getting a bit fed up with her attitude, ‘I thought you were okay about me seeing Emily.’

‘Yeah, well, I don't see why we have to see her.’ Gemma was about to kick the table, but seeing Mark's look she fell short.

‘I want to meet her,’ Beth said as she came in. In his darker moments, Mark wondered whether she perfected this milk-of-human-kindness approach to curry favour, but dealing with Gemma was hard enough. If Beth was turning out to be as hideously manipulative as her mother, he wasn't at all sure he wanted to know.

‘You would,’ snarled Gemma – porcupine, definitely porcupine, Mark decided – before she stomped out of the room.

‘What did I say?’ Beth looked injured.

‘Don't wind her up,’ said Mark. ‘You know it makes her worse.’

‘You always take her side,’ said Beth, ‘it's so unfair!’ And she too stormed off, slamming the door.

‘Bloody hell,’ Mark said aloud, ‘what did I do to deserve this?’

‘Insist that your new girlfriend met your kids,’ said Rob, strolling in. ‘I could have told you
that
was a bad idea.’

‘They‘ve got to meet her sometime,’ Mark responded grumpily. The doorbell rang and his heart ratcheted up a few dozen notches. God, he hoped this was going to work.

‘Shall we do something today?’

Katie had had the same idea as Mark. The sun was shining and Charlie was home for a rare weekend. They hadn't done anything as a family for ages. Perhaps all that was needed was some bonding time.

Charlie looked up from behind his copy of the previous day's
Financial Times
, which to her annoyance he always read at the breakfast table.

‘How am I ever going to persuade the boys not to read at the table if you persist in doing it?’

‘What about football?’

‘It's not on today,’ said Katie. ‘Some of the schools have started their holidays early so Bill cancelled their session today. And there isn't a match this week. So, we have a free day. I thought we might go somewhere nice.’

‘Oh. Right. Yes, I suppose it might be a good idea.’ Charlie didn't sound wildly enthusiastic. ‘I've got a bit of work to catch up on, though.’

‘Dad, can't we go to Bodiam Castle?’ George asked. ‘Please. We haven't been to a castle for ages.’

‘Oh, yes, please, Dad.’ Aidan was jumping up and down now with excitement.

Surely even Charlie couldn't resist such blandishments, Katie thought.

Sighing deeply, he folded up his paper and said, ‘Oh, all right then. But I do have to check my emails before we go. And we can't stay out long.’

‘Dad, you're the best!’ Aidan threw himself at Charlie, who hugged his son tightly.

‘I won't be a tick,’ he said, and shot off upstairs.

Good, thought Katie with satisfaction, as she went into the kitchen to prepare a picnic. She'd been right. A family day out was just what they needed.

Twenty minutes later, Katie was ready but there was no sign of Charlie.

‘Charlie?’ she called up the stairs. There was no reply. Sometimes it was so inconvenient having the office at the top of the house. She sent the boys to the loo, and carried Molly up the stairs. She could hear Charlie's tones very low.

‘No … she doesn't. Look, I've told you I can't …’ Charlie was having another of those furtive phone conversations. Katie's heart was hammering as she pushed open the door to see her husband crouched over the phone. He turned round and gave her a startled look.

‘I've got to go,’ said Charlie. ‘We'll catch up about the Make-peace deal next week.’

He put the phone down with a guilty air.

‘Sorry, just got caught up talking to the guy in our Amsterdam office.’

‘What about?’ Katie asked suspiciously.

‘Nothing. Just boring work stuff. Come on, I'm all yours.’ He kissed her on the top of her head, and headed for the stairs. Katie followed him with a heavy heart. Just what was he keeping from her?

‘Dad, did you have to take us to a mouldy old castle?’

Gemma appeared determined to spoil the day. Ever since Emily had arrived she had whined and moaned and bitched about how
boring everything was, and how she'd much rather be with Shelly, who she had spent most of the journey texting, until Mark had lost his rag and threatened to confiscate the phone. He had apologised profusely to Emily, who'd found it quite funny really. Mark didn't seem the type to get cross, and he was rather endearing when he did it, although it was quite clear to Emily that both his girls ran rings around him. And she didn't really blame Gemma for her bad behaviour. No doubt a thirteen-year-old Emily would have done similar in her shoes. Added to which, Gemma had spent the journey squashed up next to Rob, who on hearing they were going to visit a castle clamoured to join them too. ‘I can check it out for my Year Sevens,’ he explained. ‘We could do with a new venue for our history trip next year.’

‘Sorry, Gemma.’ Emily turned round from the front passenger seat (another thing that had clearly annoyed Gemma, being ousted from her favourite spot), with what she hoped was a winning smile. ‘That was my fault. I like castles, and I suggested it to your dad. I thought you might enjoy one too. Look, if it's really boring we can do something else instead.’

Gemma, clearly discomfited by this overture of friendship, retreated into a noncommittal shrug, and sulkily got out of the car.

‘I like castles.’ Beth came up and placed her hand in Emily's, in a gesture that nearly made her laugh out loud. One child was doing her best to alienate Emily, while the other was trying her hardest to win her over. It would be nice, she thought, if they were both eventually able to act normally with her.

‘Good,’ said Emily. ‘We'll just have to persuade Gemma that it's fun, won't we?’

‘You won't,’ said Gemma as she stomped off.

As it turned out, even Gemma was hard pushed to keep up her indifference.

The views of the castle as they approached were spectacular. With its four round towers and square walls dominating the moat
that surrounded it, it seemed the epitome of a medieval castle, so that Gemma, from affecting nonchalance, slipped instead to spouting information about portcullises and postern gates, half-remembered from her study of medieval history in Year Seven.

Emily suppressed a grin when she noticed that while Gemma was quite happy to tell everyone else about William the Conqueror, as soon as Emily asked a question Gemma couldn't seem to stop herself saying rudely, ‘I wasn't talking to you.’

‘Gemma!’ Mark was scandalised, but Emily shook her head at him.

‘Give her time,’ she whispered, 'she'll come round.’ Emily chatted to Beth instead, while Mark explained the function of a drawbridge to Gemma. In the meantime, Rob expounded to anyone who would listen the theory that while Bodiam might look the part, the chances were it wasn't a defensive castle at all.

‘Walls are too thin, you see,’ he said sagely, although by now they had entered the main courtyard and even Gemma was excited by the people dressed up as knights and the possibility of trying on medieval mail, which, as she was knowledgeably saying, wasn't actually called chain mail as most people thought.

‘Well, I'll just talk to myself, then,’ said Rob sulkily.

‘Oh do shut up,’ said Mark. ‘And stop being such a know-all. We don't all have history degrees, you know.’

They wandered through to a tent and the boys had a happy ten minutes mucking about with swords and helmets, leaving Emily and the girls looking on.

‘Dad, you are so embarrassing,’ moaned Gemma. ‘Don't you think you're a bit old for that now?’

‘Nope,’ said Mark, trying to parry and thrust with a sword that was lighter than he could have imagined.

‘It's fun,’ said Rob, breathlessly darting out of Mark's way, ‘you should try it.’

‘In your dreams,’ snorted Gemma. ‘Aren't you ever going to grow up?’

‘Men never grow up,’ said Emily, ‘believe me.’

Gemma looked at Emily, and for the first time that morning gave her a grin that held a faint approximation of warmth.

‘You know, Gemma,’ said Emily, choosing her words carefully as she watched Gemma laughing at Rob's shenanigans, ‘I can understand it's difficult for you. And I don't mind if you don't like me.’

‘You're okay,’ muttered Gemma.

Emily grinned. Perhaps they were getting somewhere after all.

Katie had a headache and was wishing they hadn't come. She couldn't get the sight of Charlie looking so guilty out of her head. They'd got stuck in traffic all the way to Bodiam, the boys had argued constantly about whose turn it was on the Nintendo DS, and Molly had thrown up in the car. Luckily most of it had gone on her clothes, and Katie had brought spares, but she could have done without it. Particularly as Charlie appeared to have completely zoned out, for all the notice he took of everything. He only seemed to stir temporarily to shout at the boys when their bickering got too much, and to make sarcastic comments about why Katie hadn't had the forethought not to give Molly milk in the car, because didn't she remember the last time?

Didn't you? was the resentful thought that lodged in Katie's brain, but it didn't, as usual, make it as far as her lips.

What had she been thinking? A day out together should have brought them together, but somehow, away from the house, doing something normal families did, just emphasised to her how far they had drifted. The boys deferred to her constantly, barely acknowledging their dad, and when they did so they appeared nervous, as if unsure of what his reaction would be. Which was fair enough, because Charlie's reactions were nothing if not unpredictable. One minute he'd be joking around and laughing and the next minute he'd be biting the kids' heads off for a triviality. Everyone was walking on eggshells around him. It was very wearing.

On discovering that it was raining as they arrived, Charlie was all for turning back.

‘Let's have our lunch now,’ Katie said as brightly as she could muster. ‘It's probably an April shower. It'll blow over.’

And blow over it did, but not before George had managed to spill Ribena all over the tailgate of the car, where he and Aidan were perched while they were eating.

‘Why are you so sodding clumsy?’ Charlie bellowed at George, who promptly burst into tears.

‘And why are you so sodding intolerant?’ hissed Katie as she wiped up the mess and tried to calm George down.

Charlie had the grace to look embarrassed.

‘Sorry, George, mate,’ he said. ‘I'm in a bit of a grump today. I'm not sure why.’

They hadn't even reached the castle yet and the trip was already turning into a disaster. Katie had a feeling it was going to be a long day.

Rob, on the other hand, was having a great time. He had chased Beth round the battlements, and had interesting conversations with Emily (who had turned out to be a bit of a history buff) about the numbers of archers really likely to have been involved in the Battle of Agincourt, and they had had their lunch on the castle lawn, watching a display of medieval archery. Even the brief shower and Gemma in full Wednesday Addams grumpy mode had failed to dampen Rob's spirits. He looked at Mark and Emily sitting together, close, but not too close, clearly doing their best not to touch too much and risk alienating the girls, and wondered idly what life would be like if he had stayed with Suzie, and gone on to have children with her. He'd probably be having more days like this for a start. Rob felt a rare pang of regret for the path untravelled. He wasn't used to feeling envious of his friend, but watching the girls mucking about with Mark and the stupid soppy smile on his face as he looked at Emily, for once,
Rob did feel envious. Mark had so much that he, Rob, had missed out on.

You don't have to miss out
.

The sudden thought came into his head. Katie, despite her rejection of him, might after all be persuaded. And even if she couldn't be, there were other fish in the sea, and the Robster had a fine track record. If he set his mind to it, there was no reason on earth why he couldn't get himself out of the rut he was in. And it was a rut. He had spent ten years drinking in the Hookers already. And, much as he liked it there, the sudden vision of himself slumped at the bar with only Paranoid Pete for company didn't really appeal. Not any more. Perhaps it was finally time for the Robster to grow up.

‘Hey, Mum, Dad, look at this!’ Two boys came piling through the portcullis and ran past Rob, shouting and gesticulating at the archers. Their energy seemed boundless. What it must be like to be that young.

Walking behind them were a man and a woman, bending down to deal with a child in a buggy. His eyes lingered on the small fair-haired woman. There was something about the shape of her head … She looked up and started to push the buggy toward him.

Oh my God, it couldn't be –

But what was she doing here? And how come she had three children with her? Three children. And a man.

‘Oh shit,’ said Katie, as she walked up the path following the boys. ‘What are you doing here?’