The Foster Husband (27 page)

‘Kate,’ Matt said gently. ‘Of course I do. I’m not saying that. But are you sure this is the right way to go about it? Are you sure you’re not just getting freaked
out by not getting any work for a while? It doesn’t have to be a choice between a job and a baby; there could be a balance here.’

See what I mean? Every time we moved away from our sitcom script, it turned into an argument. He always challenged my decisions, even when I was making them for the best reasons, for both of
us.

I kept my voice calm and patient. I had rehearsed this the entire week he’d been away.

‘I just think that if you’re going to do something, do it properly. What’s the point of being half arsed about this? Come on, Matt. This is what we both want. Let’s be
serious about this and really try to make it happen, instead of just hoping.’

Matt stared at me in silence for a moment, then his lips twisted into a half smile. ‘Are you asking me this, or are you telling me?’

‘Asking?’ I said carefully.

‘Oh good,’ he smirked. ‘I’d hate to think you’d already made up your mind about this without any kind of discussion.’

I wondered if he’d found the folic acid tablets in the bathroom. I was sure I’d hidden them behind the toilet cleaner where he’d never see them.

‘Matt,’ I insisted, taking his hands in mine. ‘I’m doing this for us.’

‘Are you going to keep me to a very strict procreation schedule?’ he asked, his eyes crinkling at the corners.

I knew I had him now.

‘
Ve ry
,’ I said, sidling up next to him on the sofa.

‘Will you have a doctor’s coat? And a clipboard and glasses?’

‘Do you
want
me to have a doctor’s coat, clipboard and glasses?’

‘Oh yes,’ he nodded. ‘Essential. We must take this seriously, after all.’

‘Very seriously. I wouldn’t want you to think this might be
fun
,’ I teased. I shifted myself up onto his lap, and put my arms around his neck.

‘Absolutely not,’ he agreed, his expression comically grave.

I moved my face closer to his and grinned. I knew I’d make him see it my way. Turning my head, I licked slowly along the edge of Matt’s left ear and began kissing his neck.

‘Well, if you put it like that,’ he said, ‘I think we’d probably better get on with it, don’t you?’

And we got on with it right there on the sofa, if you must know.

When we come out of the restaurant, clutching each other for support after Eddy has taken an unintended detour into a hatstand by the door, the freezing night air hits my face
like a slap. The clouds have gone, and the cold is so sudden and brutal that we both burst out laughing in surprise. But the reward for this drop in temperature is a sky full of stars, the Milky
Way twisting through them all. With our arms interlinked we look up, our faces turned towards the crescent moon. The cold is sobering, exhilarating. Inside, full and warm, all I had wanted to do
was go home to sleep. Now I feel like I could run all the way to London. But what would I want to do that for?

The night is so still and clear that the boom and wash of the waves can be heard, pounding against the walls by the museum.

‘Let’s go and see the sea!’ I exclaim.

Eddy grins at me, bemused. ‘I see the sea every day, Kate. So do you.’

‘Every
day
,’ I say. ‘Not every
night
. Come on. Race you up the steps.’

Before he has a chance to answer I unlink my arm from his and run towards the wooden steps that lead over the mill stream, taking them two at a time. I can see my breath coming out in puffs of
white against the cold air. Behind me I can hear Eddy catching up, and a kind of excitable panic makes my heart beat faster, as if he’s really in pursuit of me.

At the top of the steps I stop, panting.

‘I won!’ I announce, arms held triumphantly over my head in a victory salute.

‘You always do, Kate,’ says Eddy, pulling himself up the last few steps and leaning on the handrail.

It’s weird to see myself through Eddy’s eyes – the confident winner that he thinks I am; the girl who left Lyme and made something of herself. I think spending time with him is
good for me, after the last few months. To be with someone who likes me, admires me even.

‘I’m not sure it counts if you don’t even tell me we’re playing until you’re halfway up the steps, though,’ he teases.

‘Don’t be a sore loser, Eddy,’ I say. ‘How am I meant to win if I don’t make up the rules?’

And then I take off across the car park, hearing his shouts behind me.

We run through the alleyway that brings us out to the seafront, where the water, lit by the moon, shines like the scales on the back of a giant, restless creature. There is no one else around on
this freezing night. We have the seafront to ourselves. I breathe in a deep lungful of night air.

When Eddy catches me up he throws an arm around my shoulders. ‘Won’t you stay still?’ he begs, his breath coming in ragged gasps. ‘Jeez, you’ve nearly killed
me.’

I elbow him in the ribs. ‘You’re getting old, Eddy.’

‘What’s got into you tonight?’ He laughs. ‘You’re like a teenager.’

I start laughing. I
feel
like a teenager, full of hope and possibility. Maybe it’s the ozone from the sea, or the unaccustomed night out. Maybe it’s the attention from Eddy.
I don’t know. I just like how I feel.

Eddy turns to me. ‘This is how I always think of you, Kate. Always laughing, always running, one step ahead of everyone else. No one could ever catch you.’

His arm feels heavy on my shoulders, and I feel it tighten and tense. I turn my head towards him, and he pulls me closer so that we’re facing one another. The wind whips my hair across my
face, covering my eyes, and Eddy uses his free hand to push it behind my ear. He keeps his hand there, cradling the back of my head.

I feel a fluttering in my chest, and I can’t decide if it’s excitement or panic. Or if there’s any difference between the two.

‘Eddy, I—’

He bends his head and kisses me once, drawing away almost immediately, as if he has made a mistake.

‘I didn’t want you to talk me out of it,’ he says quickly. ‘I knew you’d make me lose my nerve. But I wanted to kiss you, Kate. I’m glad I did it.’

His speech entirely disarms me, and my protests stop in my throat. I feel my lips lift into a smile that Eddy takes for encouragement; he presses my head towards his again and I let him. His
mouth is warm against my cold face.

‘Oh God, Kate,’ he moans into my neck.

I press my body against him, his hot breath against my ear. He is trembling – from the cold, I think. I am trembling, too.

I know I’m safe with Eddy. He’d never hurt me. It’s me I don’t trust.

But I kiss him back anyway.

The lights are off when I let myself into Granny Gilbert’s bungalow, so I take my boots off at the front door and tiptoe into the hallway, risking going flying in my
socks on the slippery parquet. But of course Minnie has heard me come in and skitters through from the kitchen, excitement overcoming her usual caution on the treacherous floor.

And then someone calls out from the living room and I realize that Prue is still here.

‘Hi,’ I whisper, peering into the living room, where Prue is illuminated by the flickering light from the television. It makes her seem as if she is moving, though she is sitting
quite still, pinned down to the sofa by one of Ben’s sprawled legs. He lies next to her, fast asleep, his head hanging back on the arm of the sofa, his mouth wide open.

‘Hi, yourself,’ she says in a normal voice, looking me up and down. ‘Ben can sleep through anything, don’t bother whispering. What have you been up to?’

‘I’ve just been out with Eddy Curtis for a bite to eat,’ I say.

Prue stares at me, squinting through the half dark, her eyebrows knitting together. ‘Get over here.’

I hesitate in the doorway. When Prue was little we all thought it was funny that she bossed us around. We obediently lined up where she told us to and played at schools with her teddy bears and
dolls, reprimanded if we dared to step out of line. I don’t think any of us expected that she would continue to treat us like underlings once she’d grown up, but I guess old habits are
hard to break.

‘I’m going to bed,’ I say, mutinously refusing to move.

Prue tosses her head at my refusal to play by her rules. ‘I can see from here anyway,’ she says. ‘You’ve been kissing.’

‘What?’ I exclaim, my hand flying to my lips as if they’ve given me away somehow.

Prue smirks. ‘You used to look exactly like this when you snuck in from seeing boys. Don’t think I don’t remember.’

‘Well in that case you were staying up way past your bedtime,’ I say, pathetically struggling for a comeback.

‘Yup, definitely kissing,’ says Prue. ‘I remember that expression, all dreamy and cat that got the creamish.’

‘Yeah, okay, thanks, Prue,’ I snap. ‘Thanks for noticing.’

Prue’s smirk drops. ‘I was only joking, Kate,’ she says. ‘Jeez, you’re so touchy. Whatever. Don’t tell me about kissing Eddy Curtis then.’

‘I won’t,’ I say, dropping down into the chair next to Prue. ‘I’d rather hear all about your exciting night. Ben really knows how to romance a lady, eh?’

Prue looks over at her fiancé and sighs heavily. ‘He’s just exhausted, poor man. With all the work you’ve had him do on this place, and the stuff he’s doing for
Baileys’, and the wedding things. Is it any wonder he can barely stay awake?’

‘Did you, er, talk about the honeymoon at all?’ I ask casually.

Prue’s head whips round instantly. ‘Yes,’ she hisses. ‘What is this about you telling Ben that all I want is to go to the Maldives? I couldn’t care less about the
Maldives. Why would you interfere like that? Are you trying to make trouble between us?’

‘I never said you wanted to go there, Prue,’ I say steadily, under her fierce glare. ‘I said he should try to find out where you
did
want to go. Since I thought you
probably had an idea or two.’ Or forty-eight, but obviously it would be more than my life is worth to wind Prue up further.

‘Well, God knows what you actually said to him, but he was in a complete state when I got here. Surrounded by women’s magazines all over the floor and waffling on about luminosity
and spa retreats as though he’d been brainwashed. He barely touched his pheasant, just drank a stupid amount and passed out before I’d even managed to tell him that I want to go to
Barbados.’

‘Really? Barbados? Do you want me to drop some hints?’

Prue sighs again. ‘Judging by how well your helpful hints worked last time, maybe you should just stay out of it.’

On the floor by her feet are the magazines Ben had obediently purchased. I can see that he has ringed certain pictures in magic marker – palm trees and beaches. So he was listening a
bit.

‘Right,’ says Prue, pushing Ben’s leg off her lap and getting up. ‘If you’re not going to dish about Dready Eddy then I’m going home. I will get it out of
you, though.’

‘I don’t doubt it for a moment,’ I say, resigned to my fate. She will surely force a confession soon.

She surprises me by bending down to kiss me on the cheek. ‘Good for you,’ she says unexpectedly. ‘It came out all wrong when you came in, but what I meant was, it’s good
to see you back to yourself a bit. Happier, I mean. I know things have been a bit shit for you lately.’

‘Thanks, Prue,’ I whisper, my voice unsteady at her sudden kindness.

‘I told you,’ she says, striding to the door, her voice ringing through the living room. ‘Nothing wakes Ben when he’s like this. No need to whisper. Night.’

She slams the door behind her. Minnie and I both jump, but Ben doesn’t stir. He is breathing in that heavy way that’s always threatening to turn into a snore without ever doing so.
It used to drive me insane when Matt breathed like that, I’d find myself unable to relax, lying there rigidly awake, furiously anticipating the moment he’d start snoring properly.

I pick up the magazines from the floor and stack them in a pile next to the sofa so Ben doesn’t slip on them if he wakes in the night. As I’m walking over to turn off the television
I tread on the magic marker and let out a yelp. Again, Ben remains motionless.

I bend down for the pen and twist it between my fingers, thinking for a moment. I feel giddy and mischievous after my night out, and not a little tipsy. I tiptoe over to Ben’s prone form
and pop the lid off the marker, catching that pungent chemical scent as I inhale. My first stroke of the ink on his forehead makes him shake his head very slightly. I hold my breath until he stops
moving.

But he sleeps peacefully through the rest of it, until the job is done.

London

‘Fuck’s sake,’ exclaimed Matt, leaping back onto the bed as if the floor was electrified.

‘What?’ I muttered, from under the covers. ‘Get off, you’re squashing me.’

‘Your dog’s puked on the floor again,’ he said.

‘My dog?’

‘Our dog,’ he conceded.

‘You’d better not be getting sick on the duvet,’ I warned.

‘Cold sick,’ said Matt, holding his ankle in both hands as if his foot belonged to someone else. ‘It’s all between my toes – it’s fucking
disgusting.’

‘It’s even more disgusting when she eats it, believe me. Anyway, it’s your turn to take her out.’

‘What do you think I was trying to do?’ snaps Matt. ‘I was about to do it before I stepped in a pile of cold sick.’

‘Don’t get cross with me about it,’ I said, rolling over. ‘It’s not me who puked on the carpet. It wasn’t me who—’

‘Yeah, I know, it wasn’t you who bought a puppy in the first place. You’ve told me that a million times. I thought she’d be company for you. I thought it would make you
happy.’

She
had
made me happy, for about two seconds when I first saw the tiny chocolate brown face peeping out from under Matt’s coat. And, okay, for another half an hour playing with
her on the kitchen floor while Matt watched over the pair of us; and then she peed on the floor and he made himself scarce, and that is really how it’s gone since then. He was all about the
fun and the exuberance, while I was the one who had to sort out training, and walks and cleaning up. Minnie was a gift that came with a hefty side order of responsibility.