The Baby Group (23 page)

But then she walked out of the door of the Italian Kitchen and right into Jack Newhouse.

‘I'm so sorry, I . . . . Natalie!' Jack took a step back as he recognised the woman he had collided with. ‘God.'

Neither of them moved or spoke.

Natalie stared up at Jack standing right there in front of her, in all his Technicolor glory, blinked a couple of times and then seeing out of the corner of her eye an amber light approaching at speed yelled, ‘Taxi!'

Chapter Twelve

Inevitably the cab sailed past Natalie and her friends, utterly oblivious to her plight.

‘Oh,' Natalie said, rather sheepishly as she watched it go. ‘Missed it.'

She made herself look at Jack in the most casual and offhand way she could manage. If looking like a petrified rabbit caught in the headlights of an oncoming juggernaut qualified as nonchalant in this sort of situation, she succeeded.

‘Jack!' she managed to say, dismayed to notice that he actually looked better than when she had last seen him, as if the past year had somehow roughed him up a bit in a good way. His smooth, light skin was now tanned, which made his dark eyes look even more intense, and his hair was much shorter, shaved almost right to his head. He was thinner, almost slight, and not at all the muscle-bound god that her electrician was, for example. But still, looking at him here in the flesh made her heart beat faster.

It took every ounce of precious energy she had left to haul her emotions under some semblance of control.

‘Natalie, well . . .' Jack said her name again, and looked once in both directions as if searching for an emergency exit. He refocused on her reluctantly, and smiled stiffly. ‘It's been a long time, how have you been?'

‘Oh well, you know,' Natalie said. ‘I'm busy. Very busy.'

Jack maintained his rather stiff smile as he looked at her, making her feel like some mildly amusing exhibit at the zoo. She could feel the almost molten interest of her friends at her shoulders, like red-hot laser beams boring into her back. She knew they were waiting to be introduced to this man, but she decided to ignore them. She was afraid of introducing him. She had absolutely no idea
how
to introduce him, especially not to those two. Perhaps something like, ‘Meet Jack; an expert in meaningless one-night stands and begetter of love children extraordinaire!'

Jack's false smile dropped for a moment. ‘You look really well,' he said. It didn't help that it was exactly what Natalie's mother had said to her that morning – that platitude that meant nothing.

‘Do I?' Natalie attempted to sound unimpressed, but instead managed only incredulity. There was a breath of silence as the two looked at each other, both seemingly trying to navigate the least painful route out of the situation. For Natalie the choice of direction was easy. She realised that the longer she stood there staring at Jack Newhouse, the more chance there was of everything going terribly wrong. She wasn't ready for that particular conversation, especially not here and now and in front of Jess and Meg. The direction she most wanted to go in was the opposite one to Jack, and preferably at high speed. Still, she could not let this moment go. A happy coward she may have been once, but that was before she made her vow to Freddie, a vow that required a brave woman to keep it.

‘Actually, Jack.' Natalie steeled herself. ‘I'm glad I ran into you. I had heard you were back in town and I was going to call you and see if we could meet up for a drink or dinner maybe?' She was all too aware from the frankly appalled look on Jack's face that she sounded as if she were asking him out on a date.

‘Well, of course that would be great but . . .' Jack took another step back from her, obviously struggling to tag an excuse onto the end of that ‘but'. ‘Well . . . I can see your friends are waiting for you so shall I call you?'

Natalie forced herself to persist. ‘I don't suppose you still have my number, do you?' she asked him bluntly. He did not reply. ‘So let's arrange it now, shall we?'

‘Now.' Jack repeated the word with an edge of worry. ‘Now, you say . . . Look, Natalie, I don't know if you're still upset about what happened or not, but I hope you'll believe me when I say that I am sorry.' Jack looked hopeful that his apology would get Natalie off his back and out of his life.

‘Don't worry, Jack,' she reassured him. ‘I'm not some vengeful bunny-boiler, I'm not even trying to pull you. I don't think of you in that way at all. I just thought it might be . . . useful to catch up.' It was a blatant lie, but one that made Natalie feel a little more comfortable in this acutely uncomfortable situation.

She realised she had to handle this carefully. If she was too demanding he'd run a mile from her. ‘I just thought it might be nice?'

Jack looked at her thoughtfully as he considered her proposal. This was not what Natalie had expected, this period of pondering. She had expected either a quick no or a resigned yes. This apparent indecision was even more insulting than when he had seemed keen to run away from her.

‘I've got somewhere to be right now,' he said, probably meaning a date. He glanced at his watch and then looked at Natalie again. He was genuinely unsure whether or not to meet her, she realised with horror. It was a difficult decision for him; what she couldn't understand, when she had told him outright she was not after him, was why.

Then quite suddenly he smiled at her, a deep, genuine smile that lit up his taut face and made Natalie's treacherous intestines back-flip with joy.

He took a step closer to her, and she could feel his hot breath on her cheek. For the briefest moment she closed her eyes and wondered how it was possible that any single human being could have this kind of effect on another, the kind of effect that Jack Newhouse was having on her right at that moment and without even touching her. She could sense the heat of his skin even beneath the two or three layers of clothing he was wearing. It was insane how much she just wanted to forget everything that had happened, grab him and hold his body next to hers. It was pure unadulterated madness, and if all it was was some chemical or biological reaction that her free will had no control over, it wasn't fair. It simply was not just.

‘I do feel bad about the way we left things,' Jack said, his voice low. ‘And believe me, it's not like the real me at all.'

Natalie looked up at him then; his dark eyes seemed honest and open, but she'd seen that look before. Little did he know that he had turned her world upside down, and still less did he know that she was about to do exactly the same thing to him. She just wished the thought of it gave her more satisfaction.

‘Good, because actually, Jack,' she said, ‘we do need to talk . . .'

‘I'm staying at a friend's place while she's abroad,' Jack interrupted her. Natalie heard the ‘she' and tried to look unmoved by it. At least he was not staying at her place while she was in the country, which was something. ‘It's on Willoughby Street, opposite the British Museum. How about dinner tonight? Not here I suppose . . . somewhere in Soho? You probably already have plans.'

Well, Natalie thought, if he was trying to flatter her he was doing a good job, and she supposed she did sort of have a date. With her baby. She toyed with the idea of saying she did have a date tonight and that they'd have to make it another time, but she didn't, for two reasons. First, she really wanted to see Jack again alone, whatever the circumstances, and secondly her promise to Freddie meant that playing games with Jack was not the way to go about it.

‘No,' she said, praying her mother would be up for a bit more babysitting. ‘I can make it – what time?'

‘How about I book somewhere and you call for me at eight?' Jack asked her. ‘Number two Willoughby Street. The top bell.'

Natalie nodded. ‘OK.'

‘Good, see you then,' he said, beginning to walk away.

‘Jack!' Natalie stopped him in his tracks before he'd taken two steps. ‘Jack, you will be there, won't you?'

Jack frowned and she knew the pleading tone of her question must confuse him, not to mention Meg and Jess. But still she had to ask it because if he wasn't there, if he stood her up, she didn't know if she'd have the strength or the will to try to face him again.

Unbelievably he paused once more before answering. ‘I will,' he said, and then he turned his back on her and disappeared into the crowd of Saturday shoppers.

For quite some time Natalie just stood there and looked at the place where he had been.

‘Who
was
that man?' Jess said. ‘You're not really going to meet him on your own, are you? What about Gary?'

Natalie laughed, amused by the scandalised look on Jess's face. ‘He was someone I spent a few days with just before I met Gary,' she said, mingling half-truths so easily that momentarily she quite forgot that there was no Gary, at least not one she was married to. ‘It was a very intense affair. He fell instantly for me and he wants to see me again.'

‘Are you sure about that?' Jess asked her, looking puzzled. ‘No offence, Natalie, but he didn't seem
that
keen.'

‘That's his way of hiding his keenness,' Natalie told her. ‘Anyway, it doesn't matter because I'm only going to see him to tell him about Gary and to let him down gently.'

‘Are you sure it's a good idea?' Meg asked her with some concern. ‘Seeing an old flame while your husband is away?'

‘It's fine,' Natalie said. ‘I am completely in control of the situation. I'll tell him about Freddie the minute I get there, of course I will.'

‘And Gary,' Jess said.

A preoccupied Natalie looked blank for a moment.

‘Your husband, Natalie!' Meg said, laughing nervously.

‘Oh yes, and Gary,' Natalie said a little vaguely. ‘Of course I'll tell him about Gary too.'

Chapter Thirteen

Meg wasn't used to an empty house. When she went in even Gripper was absent, a sure sign that she was holed up somewhere chewing the head off something she shouldn't. Meg closed the heavy front door behind her and listened to the house as if she might be able to hear fragments of her own life echoing in the shadows. But everything was perfectly still.

‘Gripper!' She called for the dog as she walked through the ground floor, flicking on every light switch she passed and turning on the TV for good measure, even though she had no intention of watching it. ‘
Gripper
– whatever you've got, drop it!'

She walked into the kitchen and switched on first the kettle and then the radio, intent on filling the quiet house with noise. As she sipped a much-needed cup of tea, Meg looked at the Mystery is Power bag that Natalie had given her, sitting on the kitchen table. It was gone three o'clock and Robert had promised to be back by seven. All the food was prepared and just needed to go in the oven, so she had a whole afternoon, if she wanted it, to pamper herself in readiness for the evening. She couldn't remember the last time she had properly got ready for a date, and for some reason the thought of doing it now made her feel foolish. It was the amount of effort it required, she realised. Farming out the children, prising herself into underwear she would never normally go near. Was it really necessary to go to those lengths just to have dinner with her husband? To try to smooth out some of the furrows that their relationship had turned up recently, shouldn't she just be able to talk to him without the need for all this effort? But then she remembered she had tried that and worse still she remembered, with a contracting knot of pain in her chest, what he had said to her.

Meg knew she just had to try, really try to get one thing right between her and Robert. She felt sure that if she could just do that then the rest would follow on, reconnecting them piece by piece, like pulling up a misaligned zipper. She had to show him how much she loved him and that she was still there for him, still the woman he had married and the wife he wanted to come home to. Somehow she had to make him see that, because if she didn't . . . Meg couldn't face the thought of what might happen then.

Jess closed the flat door behind her as quietly as possible. She could hear the murmur of the TV in the living room and sure enough Lee was on the sofa watching the football, his feet up on a stool and a cup of tea balanced precariously on the arm.

‘Hey babe,' he said, keeping his voice low. ‘How was it?'

‘It was great,' Jess said, willing herself not to mention the position of the cup of tea or the number of times she had asked Lee not to balance drinks on the arms of the sofa. She was determined not to spoil her seduction technique with nagging.

‘I brought home something to show you later,' she said. The soft tone of her voice made Lee look up at her.

‘Oh yeah?' he said, a slow grin spreading across his face.

‘Yeah,' Jess smiled as she walked round the sofa to kiss him. ‘And I . . .'

It was at that moment she saw Jacob. He was fast asleep on the sofa, lying on his tummy, and from the angle that Jess saw him, his nose and mouth were obscured by the very edge of a cushion.

‘Lee!' Jess reached across and knocked the offending cushion to the floor. Kneeling down by the side of the sofa she stared at her son, holding her own breath until she was sure she could see the steady rise and fall of his back. She glanced up at Lee, who was fixated on the TV screen again.

‘I can't believe it – we've let in another goal! Bloody hell . . .' he moaned, sitting back in the sofa.

‘Lee,' Jess said. ‘You know you're not supposed to do that, don't you?' She was trying herbest to rationalise the anger and fear she was feeling. She knew there was no harm done, Jacob was fine. And she knew that Lee had been sitting right next to him, but just the thought that he would do something so thoughtless and foolish, something he must know would upset her, chased any idea of seduction right out of her head.