With or Without You (6 page)

‘Time for a large glass of wine!’ Martha declared, slumping down at the table with a dramatic groan.

‘Don’t panic, it’s coming!’ Jamie poured red wine into two glasses for him and Martha, before settling down across the table from her and looking at her expectantly.
‘So how did it go with the famous Mr Simmons then? Tell me all.’

It was one of the things Martha loved so much about Jamie. He was such a great listener and never seemed bored or disinterested in her stories.

‘Oh, it was bloody awful!’ Martha cried, taking a slurp of her wine. ‘You do know that you burnt a huge great hole in my favourite dress this morning, don’t
you?’

Jamie frowned. ‘Did I?’ he looked upwards, as if wracking his brains to retrieve the memory.

‘Yes!’ Martha replied. ‘You did! Haven’t you wondered why I’m wearing these clothes?’ She gestured down at the navy blue t-shirt and grey sweatpants she was
still wearing.

Jamie raised his eyebrows as he noticed her unusual outfit for the first time. ‘Oh!’ he exclaimed in surprise. ‘Where did you get those?’

Martha tutted in mock frustration. ‘Honestly, Jamie! I sometimes think you wouldn’t notice if I came in wearing nothing.’

‘I’d definitely notice that,’ Jamie cut in.

‘Stop it!’ she chided, secretly delighted that he still fancied her after all these years.

She proceeded to tell Jamie the whole sorry story of her disastrous first meeting with one of the biggest names in British films.

Jamie roared appreciatively with laughter. ‘Oh my God,’ he said, shaking his head, still smiling broadly. ‘Was he a bit of a twat then?’

‘No!’ Martha protested. ‘He was great, actually. He even offered to lend me something to wear.’

Jamie’s smile narrowed slightly. ‘I bet he bloody did!’

‘Hey!’ Martha replied with her best coquettish look. ‘You know I only have eyes for you . . .’

Jamie fixed his deep blue eyes on her and blinked extra slowly, in the way he always did when he was feeling horny. ‘And you know I only have eyes for you, even if you have come home
wearing another man’s clothes . . .’ He stood up and came round to Martha’s side of the table, then knelt down on the floor beside her and carefully removed her gold platforms,
before gently massaging the ball of her big toe with his thumb. Martha grinned down at him, feeling herself beginning to melt. He knew every inch of her body intimately and could bring her to
orgasm by stimulating the strangest parts, just as he was doing now with her toe.

Without taking his eyes off hers, Jamie lifted her foot to his mouth and began to suck the toe he had just been massaging. Martha wanted to protest that she needed to wash her feet after her day
running around London, but she couldn’t. She was enjoying the sensation too much.

After a minute, Jamie stood up, and as he did so he pulled Martha to her feet in front of him. He picked up a glass of wine from the table and took a sip, before bending to kiss her and
releasing some of the wine from his mouth into hers. By now, Martha was aching for him, but she knew Jamie would take his time and bring her to boiling point before he would finally allow himself
any pleasure. He was without doubt the best lover she had ever had, even after all these years.

‘Let’s go upstairs,’ she whispered, as his fingers explored her, sending her into shudders of ecstasy.

‘No,’ he said, gruffly. ‘Let’s not.’ He lifted Charlie’s t-shirt over her head, before unclipping her pink lacy bra and beginning to lick her nipples.

‘Oh my God!’ Martha gasped. ‘Jamie . . .’

‘I love you so much,’ he whispered into her ear, lifting her up as if she weighed nothing and laying her down on the table. Slowly, he removed her sweatpants and knickers so that she
was naked before him. He gazed at her adoringly. ‘You are the sexiest woman in the whole wide world,’ he said, before unzipping his jeans and kicking them off, along with his boxers,
and sliding into her.

Almost immediately, she yelled out. Jamie looked at her in shock and put his hand over her mouth. ‘Shh,’ he gasped, smiling as he began to thrust harder. ‘We don’t want
to wake the children!’ Both of them groaned as they climaxed together and Jamie slumped down on top of her, panting furiously.

‘Well, that’s your exercise for the day!’ Martha giggled playfully, stroking his shoulder, which was damp with sweat.

Jamie raised his head and grinned at her, before kissing her on the lips. ‘I love you,’ he murmured. ‘You know that, don’t you?’

Martha frowned and began to gently push him off her so that she could sit up. The hard wood of the table didn’t make a very comfortable bed and her back was aching. ‘Of course I know
that, silly,’ she smiled, climbing off the table and looking back at it with a grin. ‘God, if the kids only knew what this table gets used for sometimes,’ she added.

Jamie bent down and collected his jeans and boxers from the floor. ‘Funnily enough, today we had a very in-depth discussion about what the table should be called. I don’t thinking
“shagging table” was one of the suggestions!’

Giggling like naughty children, she and Jamie switched off all the lights and climbed the stairs. ‘So what did you do today?’ Martha asked, once they were lying in bed, each with a
book poised and ready to read.

Jamie put down his copy of
Freedom
by Jonathan Franzen and looked up, stroking his jaw as if trying to remember. ‘Well now, I put on a wash, then I went to the supermarket. By the
time I came home, the washing was ready to be hung out on the line and then—’

‘OK! OK!’ Martha cut in, laughing. ‘I get it. Your job can be mundane at times, but you’ll get your reward in heaven . . .’

‘It certainly feels like it’ll be the death of me sometimes . . .’ Jamie muttered back.

Martha put her book down and looked at him in the rosy glow of his bedside lamp. ‘
Do
you feel like that? I thought you liked being here with the kids?’

‘I do,’ he said. ‘But the kids aren’t here for most of the day now. It gets a bit boring sometimes. You know how it is . . .’

Martha nodded. ‘Well, I think you’re doing a great job.’ She reached over to kiss him. ‘And I so appreciate what you do.’

‘And I so appreciate what you do,’ Jamie replied, smiling back at her. ‘But don’t you sometimes compare me with some of the people you interview, like that Charlie
Simmons? I mean, when was the last time I wore a suit or had anyone ask for my opinion? I must seem like a right loser in comparison to him, with all his money and success.’

‘Pah!’ Martha spluttered. ‘All his money hasn’t brought him much happiness, with his wife and kid buggering off to the other side of the world. Yes, Jamie, I
do
compare you with the people I interview, and believe me, you come out on top every time. You’re worth a million of any of them.’

Jamie smiled and dropped his book onto the floor beside him. ‘Yes, when you put it like that, I am a bit of a catch, aren’t I?’ he said teasingly. ‘Fancy going
again?’ he added, as he rolled onto his side and gazed at her.

‘No!’ Martha protested, pulling the duvet up over her naked breasts. ‘God, you’re insatiable!’ she giggled. ‘Now go to sleep!’

The next morning, Tom came slouching into their bedroom. Martha opened her eyes sleepily to find his cheeky little face peering at her from just a few inches away. ‘Hey,
handsome,’ she murmured, reaching out for him and pulling him into bed so that his back curled against the contour of her stomach. She loved the smell of sleep that always clung to him first
thing, and she nuzzled her face into his messy hair, inhaling deeply. Tom squirmed for a few minutes in mock protest, but she knew that it was for show. He loved these early-morning cuddles as much
as she did.

Beside her, Jamie stirred and reached his arm over so that he was embracing both her and Tom. ‘Morning, champ,’ he said, his voice thick and croaky.

‘Morning, Dad,’ Tom replied, lifting his head to peer at Jamie over the top of Martha’s body. ‘Will you come and play on my Xbox?’

‘It’s a bit early . . .’ Jamie sighed, throwing back the duvet and rolling out of bed nevertheless. ‘But go on then!’

Martha watched as Jamie threw on his t-shirt and jeans and signalled to Tom to follow him. ‘Let Mum have another half-hour’s sleep,’ he said.

Tom squeezed himself into Martha for one more hug before climbing out of bed and following Jamie downstairs. Martha snuggled back down under the duvet and was just dozing off again when her
mobile phone, which was plugged into a charger on the bedside table, beeped.

Sighing, Martha reached out and unplugged the handset. She rolled onto her back and looked at the screen. The message was from her best friend, Lindsay.
OMG!! What u doing leaving hotel with
Charlie Simmons??? X

Martha’s senses tingled.
Eh? What u on abt? x
she hurriedly texted back.

A few seconds later, her phone beeped again.
Photo of u together on MailOnline! U wearing his clothes???? WTF???

Martha sat up in shock. Immediately, she clicked on Lindsay’s number to call her.

‘Well, good morning!’ Lindsay answered in her broad, northern accent. ‘You have got some explaining to do, young lady!’

Martha laughed, despite her concern. ‘I really haven’t. But I have got probably the most embarrassing story ever to tell you . . .’

She regaled Lindsay with the details of her encounter with Charlie Simmons the day before, to be met with howls of laughter from her friend and former colleague. Lindsay and Martha had worked on
the same newspaper together before going in different directions. Martha had focused on doing in-depth celebrity interviews, while Lindsay gave up journalism altogether and went into teaching. But
her background meant that she still read all the papers online every morning, which was why she had been the first to spot the paparazzi picture of Martha and Charlie.

‘Well, you could be a bit more sympathetic!’ Martha spluttered indignantly, as Lindsay continued to laugh loudly at her misfortune. ‘Jamie!’ she called out, putting her
hand over the speaker for a second, ‘I’d love a cup of tea!’

‘No need to shout!’ came the answer, as Jamie entered the bedroom carrying a cup of tea.

‘Aah, thanks, babe.’ She smiled, and blew him a kiss as he put the cup down on her bedside table, before returning to her phone call. ‘My lovely husband just brought me a cup
of tea.’

‘Tell him I want one too!’ Lindsay said.

‘Lindsay says she wants one too,’ Martha relayed to Jamie’s retreating back.

‘What, me or the tea?’ Jamie replied cheekily, closing the bedroom door behind him.

‘I heard that!’ said Lindsay. ‘Tell him both.’

Martha laughed. Lindsay adored Jamie, as did all of her friends. Lindsay was divorced after her ex-husband had cheated on her, and often told Martha that whenever she got fed up with Jamie, she
would happily take him off her hands.

‘Anyway,’ Martha said, ‘I need to go and have a look at this bloody newspaper story. I can’t believe they photographed us and made it look as though I’d spent the
night with him!’

‘Are you absolutely sure you didn’t? And then came up with that cock-and-bull story to cover your tracks?’ Lindsay’s voice had taken on a mischievous air. ‘No-one
would blame you.’

‘Bugger off!’ Martha cried good-naturedly. ‘As if! I don’t have the imagination to make up a story like that anyway. And I’m far too old and far too dull for him.
By the way, how do I look in the picture?’

There was a pause and she could hear the clicking of a keyboard as Lindsay looked again at the photo. ‘Good,’ she said at last. ‘Kind of dishevelled sexy, I’d say. Not
sure the gold platforms were a good idea though.’

‘Well, strangely enough, his trainers would have been too big for me,’ Martha protested.

‘So, have you still got his clothes then?’

‘Of course I have! But I’ve promised to return them to him when I’ve washed them.’

‘I wouldn’t,’ Lindsay said. ‘I’d keep them. They’ll be worth something one day.’

‘It’s a good job I’m not you then, isn’t it? Anyway, I need to go and see if I can find the article online. I’ll call you back later.’

She hung up and jumped out of bed, her heart beating a little faster. She felt disconcerted at the idea of being photographed with Charlie. Even though there was an innocent explanation, she
somehow felt guilty. She didn’t want the children to see the picture either, in case it planted a seed of doubt in their minds.

She put on her bathrobe, made her way into the study and closed the door behind her. She opened up her laptop and logged onto the MailOnline site. At first she couldn’t see it as she
scrolled through the numerous thumbnail-sized items, and let go of the breath she hadn’t realised she was holding. Perhaps it had only made the first editions and had now dropped off the
listings. But just as she was about to log off, she realised that not only was it there, but it was right at the top, meaning it was one of the stories that had already been ‘most read’
that morning.

By now, her heart was racing. She clicked on the link. In the colour photograph, she and Charlie were leaving the hotel together, with her obviously wearing his clothes, and both laughing about
something. What had they been laughing at? She thought back to the previous day. After the interview, as she was leaving, Charlie had said he was meeting someone for a late lunch, so he would walk
out with her. As they reached the door of the hotel and walked out into the forecourt, Charlie had suddenly got a fit of the giggles about her travelling home on the tube in his baggy clothes and
her gold platforms, which had started her giggling too. He had offered her a lift in his car, but she had mustered as much dignity as she could and said she would be fine, thank you very much.

She had waited until Charlie was out of sight before hailing a cab. There was no way she was going to travel on the tube looking the way she did, and anyway, she would be able to claim it on
expenses later.

Behind her, she heard the door to the study open and she closed the screen guiltily. ‘What’s wrong?’ Jamie asked, coming in and looking at her suspiciously. ‘Why did you
close your computer like that? What are you hiding? Have you been Internet shopping again?’