The Misadventures of a Playground Mother (16 page)

W
hen I woke up
, bright sunshine was shining through the curtains, and I could hear the chatter of the children from the pool outside. Glancing at my watch on the bedside table, I saw it was nearly midday. Gosh, I must have been tired! Matt must have sneaked out of bed to entertain the children, letting me sleep in after my restless night. I wondered if Penelope was awake yet or hiding out beneath her covers.

Feeling wide awake and refreshed after a few extra hours I jumped quickly into the shower; there was only one thing on today's agenda: lying on the sunbed and catching a few rays while the children played. This plan would also suit Penelope; I wasn't sure if she would be up for a day trip with the sickness that she was suffering at the moment.

Everyone was seated outside around the patio table. Matt was busying himself bringing plates of sandwiches and bowls of crisps from the kitchen. Penelope, looking a little green around the gills, sipped a glass of iced water, while Rupert chattered away to the kids and handed out the sandwiches.

Matt looked as if he was in a foul mood, and barely looking at me he uttered, ‘are you joining us for lunch?'

It wasn't like him to be in a such a bad mood, but perhaps preparing a meal for ten had taken its toll. ‘Are you OK?' I enquired, but only got a stare and a grunt in return. I decided to leave it alone until everyone had dispersed from the table.

Penelope managed a ‘Good afternoon.' She looked dreadful, but I suppose with no sleep and a lot on her mind, she wasn't going to look blooming any time soon.

Returning from the kitchen, one last time, Matt, with a face like thunder banged the glasses down before sitting down at the table. I knew something or someone had riled him, but I thought he needed to be thankful for small mercies. At least he didn't have the same speedos as Rupert. Penelope bit into a sandwich, but appeared to be holding onto her stomach contents. I could tell she wasn't going to have a craving for cheese and pickle sandwiches in the near future. The only craving in Penelope's case would be not to be pregnant at all. Nibbling on a bread stick, her complexion gradually changed back to a normal skin colouring. Making her excuses, Penelope left the table muttering she didn't feel very hungry and returning to the best sunbed, she drew her sunglasses over her eyes and within minutes was sound asleep. The first few months of pregnancy are always exhausting, but it would even more so for her, while she considered what the hell to do about Rupert.

Once the children were refuelled, they went back to their games in the pool. I was actually quite amazed how there hadn't been any major hiccups or falling out; they all just seemed to be having fun. Unlike Matt who looked as if he was going to erupt; not only was he ignoring me, I noticed he seemed to be a little short with Rupert as well. Maybe he was feeling tired after being up for a few hours longer than me, so I suggested he go and have a snooze in the sun next to Penelope, while I cleared the plates off the table.

I watched Matt try to settle on the sunbed, but he was extremely fidgety and couldn't settle; he did indeed appear to be awfully tense. I was beginning to wonder if something had already happened this morning before I awoke and he hadn't been able to vent his frustrations in front of Penelope and Rupert, if it had been anything at all to do with them.

Clambering out of the pool, the children grabbed at the pile of towels that were drying over the chairs in the midday sun. Wanting a change of scenery and an escape from the burning hot sun of the early afternoon, they all decided to scooped chocolate ice cream from the freezer into plastic bowls and settled down to watch a DVD.

Without the children, it was especially peaceful around the pool; there was not a cloud in the sky and we could hear the waves were lapping up onto the beach below.

Rupert resembled a snowman, lying on his sunbed smothered from head to toe in factor fifty sun block and still dressed in his black speedos. Unperturbed, he was flicking through a car magazine.

L
eaning forward
to pick up the magazine that had fallen beneath Penelope's sunbed, I nearly jumped out of my skin, when Matt, slammed his hand down on the sunbed, swung round, and feet firmly on the floor, faced Rupert and me. Rupert and I stared at him and waited to hear what was bothering him.

Matt's eyes were piercing, dark and dangerous; I knew this wasn't about taking advantage this morning and sneaking a few extra hours sleep whilst he rallied around after the children.

‘How long? How long?' Matt demanded.

How long was what? How long was a piece of string? I was flummoxed by his outburst. What the heck was he on about? Judging by the look on Rupert's face, he was none the wiser either. Both of us stared back at Matt, and waited for some sort of explanation. His whole body was now shaking with anger.

Trying to smooth the situation over and calm Matt's temper, ‘look mate', were the first words that escaped Rupert's mouth, but Matt responded with fury, not letting him finish his sentence.

'Do not “look mate me” – how long?'

Almost immediately, Rupert, believing he had been rumbled, began to apologise.

‘Yes OK, we admit it,' Rupert continued. ‘We are really sorry.'

‘I knew it, I knew it! Sorry you've been busted more like,' Matt shouted at him. 'And what have
you
got to say for yourself?' Matt snarled at me.

I was stunned, flabbergasted. I thought Matt might have somehow been banged his head in the middle of the night and the concussion had completely changed his personality – well you do hear about these strange instances – I was completely baffled. Penelope was still asleep on the sunbed in the middle of World War III, very oblivious to the row that was erupting around her.

‘We will pay,' Rupert continued.

‘Too right you will pay,' Matt spat back.

‘How much do you want?' Rupert replied.

‘I can't believe the cheek of you Kensington, you are offering me money?'

Feeling as if I was watching a table tennis match, my head was flitting back and forth between Matt and Rupert. I was still none the wiser as to what the bloody hell was going on.

‘We have taken advantage of your good nature,'' Rupert stated.

‘You don't say,' Matt replied angrily.

So that was it. Rupert was feeling like a right fool, embarrassed to say the least. Matt had clearly realized that Rupert and Penelope did not intend to make any financial contribution towards the holiday.

‘You were coming anyway,' Rupert claimed, overstepping the mark.

Matt was taken aback by this revelation and so was I. It was apparent Penelope and Rupert had concocted a plan to take advantage of our good nature. The tight-fisted couple had planned this free family holiday!

‘I'm not on about you cadging a free holiday off us, eating our food and drinking our beer, I want to know how long have you been sleeping with my wife.'

There was deadly silence all around us.

Penelope took this exact moment to wake and sat bolt upright on the sunbed. Sitting up she removed her sunglasses and stared at me, then Rupert. ‘You two! You two have been sleeping together?' she cried out incredulously, jabbing her finger in my direction.

This was ridiculous; where the bloody hell had Matt got this preposterous idea from? I'd been accused of some things in my life but there was no way in this lifetime or in any other lifetime, I would share an intimate moment with Rupert Kensington.

'You can't deny it,' Matt cried.

I stared at Matt open-mouthed, ‘I bloody can and I will,' I yelled back, no longer calm. ‘What the bloody hell has got into you?'

‘Well, we all know what has got into you,' Penelope growled snidely.

She had a bloody cheek, lying there on my sunbed, knocked up with her Jonny Vegas's offspring.

My stomach was in knots, not knowing what had put this insane idea into Matt's head.

Stretching his arm under the towel on his sunbed, he pulled out a box. The box ... the one that contained Penelope's positive wand.

Throwing the pregnancy test directly at me he accused, ‘how could you? You are not only sleeping with Rupert but you are pregnant with his baby! We both know it can't be mine!'

Then realisation hit me; Matt must have discovered the test in my dressing-gown pocket this morning while I was still sleeping. Putting two and two together, Matt's brain must have gone into complete overdrive, and made five. The funny thing was I had actually been feeling so tired recently, that I knew if Matt hadn't been snipped, I would actually be thinking I was pregnant.

‘You're pregnant?' repeated the amazed Rupert.

‘No Shit, Sherlock, by you!' screamed Matt.

This was insane. I glared at Penelope, urging her to do the decent thing and own up to the pregnancy test being hers. My hopes were dashed immediately though, as scrabbling to her feet as if she were in utter shock, she leant over my sunbed, raised her hand and slapped me hard right across my face. Wincing with the pain, I nearly returned the favour, but knowing she was pregnant, I simply glowered at her.

‘I can't believe you have been sleeping with my husband,' she screamed, and stormed off to her bedroom – my bedroom.

I
couldn't believe
the lengths to which Penelope would go to keep her predicament a secret. What was she going to do in another seven months' time when Baby Vegas decided to make its appearance in the big wide world?

Rupert stormed out of the villa to take a walk alone on the beach.

Thankfully, the children were still fully engrossed in the DVD that they were watching. I nursed my throbbing face. I was still stunned by the previous few minutes. Matt and I sat in silence staring at each other. I was fuming. He was waiting for me to explain myself and I was waiting for him to apologise.

There was only one thing for it. I realised Penelope was covering her own back, playing the victim but I had to remember she was also pregnant and confused about what the hell she was going to do. Her slapping me was to buy herself more time before her secret was discovered. I wasn't interested in blowing her predicament, I was more interested in proving to Matt I had never had an affair with Rupert Kensington and that I certainly wasn't carrying his baby or anyone else's baby for that matter.

I ordered Matt to follow me in a ‘don't mess me with me' type of voice; he reluctantly stood up and we moved in to the kitchen. Snatching up my bag and grabbing the keys to the ridiculous Scooby Doo van, I informed the children we wouldn't be too long, saying Penelope was resting in the bedroom if they needed anything.

Forcing Matt to climb behind the wheel, I instructed him to drive to the nearby village. Muttering under his breath, he warned me if he were to come face-to-face with the man who had impregnated his wife, he wouldn't be responsible for his actions. I let him prattle on huffing and puffing for the time being because in less than fifteen minutes, he would be feeling like a fool when I proved to him that no way on this earth was I pregnant.

Pointing to the parking space at the side of the road, I directed him to pull over.

I pushed him into the Chemist, and alerted the shop assistant by pointing to the pregnancy tests that were stacked up on the shelf behind the counter. I didn't have any idea what the Spanish word was, so playing a game of charades I acted out the scene, stuffing my handbag under my T-shirt, and pretending to rock a baby in my arms. The shop assistant reached for the test and placed it on the counter. ‘Do you want one of these,' he politely enquired.

‘You could have said you spoke English,' I replied slightly irritated.

‘You never asked,' came his flippant reply as he rung up the total on a prehistoric till.

Handing over the cash, I seized the test and marched quickly out of the shop with Matt hot on my heels. Heading down the busy Spanish high street towards the beach, I knew of some old stone public toilets situated on the shore. Normally I wouldn't choose to frequent any type of public toilets, but today it was needs must.

Opening the door to the ladies', the stench that hit us was horrific; it smelt worse than an abattoir and looking around, it appeared worse things than animals had been slaughtered in here.

‘I can't go into a ladies toilet,' Matt insisted

‘You can and you will,' I told him, pushing him inside the cubicle. It didn't surprise me there was no toilet paper, not even the tracing paper kind and it would have been ludicrous to expect a working lock on the door. I ordered Matt to stand with his back against the door while I peed, he looked terrified. How times had changed, I thought, my mind flashing back to our early dating days when I would place toilet paper in the bottom of the pan to disguise the sound of me tinkling. Now I was demanding that he watched me – there was nothing kinky about this situation at all – believe me.

Removing the white plastic wand from the box, I squatted over the seat. There was no way I would lower myself to sit on the cracked wooden seat. I may not be pregnant but I wasn't up for contracting any sort of deadly disease from the gruesome conditions.

The warm stream flowed on to the stick. Removing a tissue from my pocket when I had finished, I wiped myself dry. Gasping for breath, the stench inside the lavatory was stifling, we hurried back outside where we were thankful to be hit by wafts of fresh sea air. Matt had remained silent the whole time we were inside the ladies' toilets; I wasn't sure whether he was traumatised about the state of hygiene in these types of places or fretting about the results that were about to be uncovered.

Perching on the wooden bench scribbled with graffiti overlooking the calm blue sea – no doubt a bench where a few unwanted pregnancies had been created – I pressed the test into Matt's hand. ‘Look at it,' I insisted. ‘Look at it!'

Staring down at the test, Matt's relief was instant. The test showed positively that I was not pregnant. There was no blue line, not even a hint of one, absolutely nothing. I didn't doubt it for a moment – as safe a bet as I could have placed. I was not pregnant.

Matt looked battered and completely worn out.

‘I don't understand; the test was in your pocket; you disappeared for most of the night; why would you have a positive pregnancy test, if it's not yours? Who does it belong to?'

Penelope had played her part well; it never crossed Matt's mind that the test could belong to Penelope after her Oscar winning performance. Playing an absolute blinder, her smacking me across the face, insinuated my affair with Rupert was real.

I had two choices. My first option was to protect Penelope, keeping her secret until she was ready to inform the world and the second, well the second would mean I put my marriage first and divulge Penelope's secret to Matt – putting his mind at rest.

Earnestly looking at me, he was waiting for an answer I couldn't blame him; Matt deserved the answers, but Penelope's secret wasn't mine to tell. She had landed me in a huge predicament. If I revealed Penelope was pregnant and disclosed Rupert was not the biological father, it would be out there, and I wouldn't be able take it back.

I began carefully, with a smile. Gazing at Matt I spoke softly, ‘I need you to trust me on this one, I have not been having an affair with Rupert Kensington and I have proved I am not the one pregnant. I will share what I can with you as soon as I can.'

Matt didn't look happy; he wasn't in the least bit happy, but he knew I would tell him when I was able to. I wasn't delighted either. I wanted to spill Penelope's secret and blow her amateur dramatics performance wide open – she would not be receiving a standing ovation from any of us.

We climbed back into the van and drove back to the villa. Matt was a lot more relaxed. He hadn't discovered all the answers in the last twenty minutes, but one thing was for sure, he knew his wife was not expecting Rupert Kensington's child or having an affair with him. My plan was simple. I was going to give Penelope an ultimatum – either she told Matt the truth, or I would.

All was quiet when we returned to the villa. The children were still sitting in exactly the same spot and did not appear to have moved a muscle. Penelope was hiding out in her bedroom, probably concocting a plan of what to do next. Rupert was sprawled out on the sunbed by the pool; he wasn't reading or sleeping, just looking up into the bright sky.

Matt went outside, reluctant to face Rupert, but he needed to apologise. They both needed to apologise; Rupert for knowingly trying to fleece us for a free holiday and Matt for accusing him of having an affair – I wasn't sure which was worse.

Handing Rupert a beer Matt spoke, ‘I'm really sorry mate, I got it all wrong, Rachel isn't the one pregnant. I should have never have accused you.' Holding out his hand, Rupert didn't hesitate and shook it. ‘I've been a prat too; it was Penelope's idea to take advantage of the holiday and I should have put my hand in my pocket and paid up in the first place. I really haven't been having an affair with your wife.'

‘I know that now.'

They clinked their beer bottles together. ‘Who did the pregnancy test belong to then?' Rupert innocently enquired.

‘I've no idea,' Matt sincerely replied.