Summer With My Sister (44 page)

Roxie raised an eyebrow at Clare, inclined her head sideways after his departing figure and licked her lips suggestively. ‘In-ter-est-ing,’ she purred.

‘Shut up, Roxie,’ Clare said, going crimson. ‘Don’t even go there.’

Roxie mimed zipping her lips, then pretended to turn a key in them and toss it over her shoulder. Then she began demurely typing away like a model employee, although when Clare glanced over she appeared to be on the Lonely Planet website rather than actually doing any work.

Clare laughed despite herself. ‘Thank you for the voucher,’ she said. ‘My sister might fancy a dirty weekend at the hotel with her new bloke, even if I’ve got nobody to go with.’

‘No worries,’ Roxie said lightly, peering at a map of central Peru on her screen.

As Clare took the sheaf of letters over to the scanner and began working her way through them, she felt unexpectedly downcast. For the first time since she and Steve had split up, she found herself wishing she
did
have someone to take to the hotel, someone to dress up for and hold hands with over the dinner table. Would there ever be such a person in her life again?

There was no word from Polly all morning. Strange. Maybe she was sleeping off the shagathon. Maybe she had already embarked on shagathon number two. Maybe she was in the process of moving her stuff into Jay’s house right now and . . . No. Calm down, Clare.

Her phone rang while she was sitting out in the sunny courtyard garden on her tea-break and she pounced on it eagerly. Then paused. It was Steve. What did he want?

‘Hello?’ she said warily.

‘Hi. Steve here.’

‘Hi. Are you all right?’

‘Yes. Just ringing to say I’ve taken a few days off next week, so I thought I’d treat the children to a bit of a holiday.’

She passed a hand through her hair, feeling tired by the conversation already. ‘Ah. Well, the thing is, I’m already—’

‘Thought we could get the Eurostar to Paris, see the sights. Maybe even have a day at Disney World.’

‘But Steve—’

‘So I’ll pick them up on Thursday and—’

‘Steve, wait!’ she all but shouted. ‘We’re going to be away next week; I’m taking them to Bournemouth.’

There was a lengthy silence. ‘You haven’t cleared that with me, though,’ he said.

The pompous arse. ‘What do you mean, I haven’t cleared it with you? I don’t
need
to clear it with you. I’m their mother, and I’m taking them on holiday.’

‘Yes, but it’s my weekend to have them. And seeing as I’ve got a few days’ leave and I’m entitled to half the week, then—’

Clare could feel her holiday collapsing before it had even started. ‘Can’t you take them next week?’ she said, trying not to lose her temper. ‘I mean, don’t get me wrong, they’d love to go, but—’

‘No, I can’t.’

‘But I’ve already sorted this out. We’re leaving on Monday.’

‘Well, you should have checked with me first. You’re disrespecting my rights as a father by—’

‘Steve, stop, this is ridiculous.’ She practically had to yell again to make herself heard over his ranting. ‘Why are you behaving like this? Why can’t we just talk about this reasonably?’

‘Because you’re not playing fair, that’s why. And—’

‘
I’m
not playing fair?’ She couldn’t believe the nerve of him. ‘Look, I’m at work, I don’t want to have a shouting match about this now. Let’s talk later on and we’ll get it all sorted out, okay?’

‘God, Clare, you’re so bloody sanctimonious, aren’t you? What do you think the kids will say, when I tell them you wouldn’t let me take them to Disney World? How will that make them feel?’

Her jaw dropped open. If it wasn’t for the fact that Hilary Manning had just walked out with a steaming coffee and plonked herself down on the bench nearby, she would probably have started screaming at him. ‘I don’t want to talk to you when you’re being like this,’ she managed to say, anger boiling up within her like a volcano about to blow. ‘We’ll discuss it later.’ And she hung up before he could say another word and sat there, red-faced and furious.

‘Everything all right, Clare?’ Hilary asked, peering over her glasses.

Clare gritted her teeth. ‘Men,’ she said, walking back towards the main building. ‘Bloody men!’

She sat down at her desk again, then noticed the text from Polly which had just come through.
Total disaster, ruined everything, Jay hates me. MEN.

It was obviously catching.

When she arrived home with the children, Clare found Polly typing away on her laptop at the kitchen table with a murderous look on her face. ‘Hi,’ she said, opening the fridge and wondering what she was going to make for dinner. ‘Are you okay?’

‘Yep.’ Polly’s reply was so brusque that the word was like a bullet shot from her mouth. ‘Just swotting up for my interview next week.’

‘Oh yeah, you mentioned it in your text. Nice one.’ She hesitated. ‘And . . . Jay?’

‘Never happened.’

‘Okay. Well, if you want to talk about it later—’

‘Nope.’

‘Right.’ Ahh. It had gone
that
well. Clare gave up looking in the fridge, feeling uninspired by the contents. There was a pile of muddy beetroots on the worktop (a new offering from Agatha, no doubt), but they didn’t inspire her either.

‘Beans on toast all right, kids?’ she bellowed, putting a pan on the hob without waiting for the answer. Beans on toast was always all right, luckily. Then she glanced at Polly again, who was still mutinously stabbing at the keyboard. ‘So, what’s this job then?’

At last something other than ‘pissed off’ appeared on Polly’s face. A smile bloomed. ‘Oh, it’s really good, Clare,’ she said. ‘Similar to what I was doing before, but with more responsibility. Better pay even.’ Her eyes had become starry. ‘It would be perfect. Hence – ’ she gestured at the laptop. ‘I want to give the most impressive interview ever known to mankind. I’ve got to convince them that I’m their dream employee.’

‘That’s great,’ Clare said. ‘Well done. You deserve this, all the effort you’ve put in.’ The next moment she was struck with a pang at the thought of Polly vanishing back to London. She didn’t want to lose her again, this smart, loyal sister she’d only just found. ‘I’d miss you, though,’ she added. ‘We’d have to pledge not to lose touch again, see each other at weekends and phone more often . . .’

‘Definitely.’ Their eyes locked for a moment and Polly smiled.
‘Definitely
,’ she repeated. ‘Let me just save this lot, and I’ll give you a hand with dinner. Even I can help with beans on toast.’

Later that evening Clare braced herself for another argument, took several deep, calming breaths, then picked up the phone to ring Steve. She’d only dialled two numbers, however, when she heard footsteps and then Alex’s face appeared around the door.

‘What’s up?’ she asked. She knew he found it difficult to get to sleep when it was still so light outside, but lately he’d got into the bad habit of reappearing after bedtime almost every night with some excuse or other.

‘I can’t sleep,’ he said.

She held out her arms to him and he came and sat on her lap. ‘You’ve hardly tried yet,’ she said, holding him close. ‘Go on, go back up to bed and just lie quietly with your eyes shut. And don’t come down again, okay?’

He shuffled off her knee. ‘What if my tooth falls out?’

‘Well, you can come down, if your tooth falls out.’

‘What if I’m sick?’

‘You won’t be sick, but if you are, just shout for me.’

‘What if the window smashes?’

‘It won’t. Go up to bed now.’

‘What if I have a bad dream?’

‘Then think about something funny and go back to sleep.’

‘What if—?’

‘Alex, just go, okay? Everything will be fine. Go and have a lovely long dream about our holiday next week.’

He hovered in the doorway. ‘But what if there’s a burglar?’

Clare rolled her eyes. ‘Alex . . .’

‘But what if there is?’

‘Fred will savage him, don’t worry,’ Polly put in, coming into the room just then and overhearing. ‘And I’ll whack him over the head with a rolling pin until he starts crying for his mummy.’

Alex glanced down at Fred, who was lolling on the carpet, looking about as ferocious as a banana. He grinned. ‘Okay. Goodnight.’ And off he went.

Clare and Polly both laughed. ‘Comedy violence, that was all it took,’ Clare said, as they heard him scampering back up the stairs. ‘Boys!’

‘He’s so gorgeous,’ Polly said, sitting down and opening a library book called
Answering Tough Interview Questions for Dummies
. ‘They both are. Such lovely, funny, adorable children – I can’t believe it took me so many years to realize, the stupid, blind dunce that I am.’

There was a lump in Clare’s throat, and a sudden fuzziness around the edges of her vision. She’d always felt a stab of pain inside whenever Polly, her own sister, had displayed a total lack of interest in Leila and Alex. Thank goodness those days were over. ‘Thank you,’ she said. ‘They
are
gorgeous.’ She eyed the phone with a little sigh. ‘Which is why I’ve got to sort out their crap dad before I lose my bottle.’

‘Do it,’ Polly urged. ‘And tell him if he doesn’t start behaving soon, there’s a rolling pin with his name on it. We could take turns whacking him with it.’

‘Or shove it somewhere even more painful,’ Clare muttered grimly. She steeled herself, then dialled. His mobile number went straight to voicemail, so she tried the landline. It rang and rang and she was just about to hang up when a breathless-sounding Denise picked up the call. ‘Hello?’

‘Hi, Denise, it’s Clare. Is Steve there, please?’

Denise hesitated. ‘Er . . . he’s in the shower,’ she said. ‘Um, listen, Clare,’ she went on after a moment. Her words came out in a rush, as if she’d only just decided to say them. ‘I know it’s none of my business, but he’s been really upset lately. I don’t want to interfere, but I can’t bear to see him so low. Is there any way you can change your mind about . . . well, you know. What you’ve said.’

Clare was perplexed. ‘About Disney World?’ she ventured.

There was a pause. ‘No,’ Denise replied, sounding every bit as confused. ‘About not letting him see the children if we move.’

What?
thought Clare, the words making no sense to her. Before she could reply. though, Denise was saying in a rather panicky voice, ‘Oh! He’s here, he’s out of the bathroom. Babe, it’s for you, sorry, I didn’t realize you’d come downstairs.’