As Weekends Go (Choc Lit) (30 page)

‘I mean, Torrison are expanding all the time,’ he continued. ‘They’ve not long opened another European office.’

Heat spread across Rebecca’s whole body, moistening her palms, tightening her chest muscles.
Please, make him stop …

The doorbell rang.

Oh, thank heavens! Steve Wolfe.

Greg jumped up to let Steve in, at which point Rebecca tore into the conservatory, stuck her head outside and gulped down as many deep breaths of air as she could manage.

Arthur, Shirley next door’s ginger and white cat, eyed her curiously from the shed roof where he lay in a rectangular patch of sunlight, fastidiously washing himself.

Rebecca could hear Steve Wolfe laughing in the kitchen – he wasn’t the quietest person at the best of times. She doubted Greg would offer him a drink, so she took one more long, slow breath, and stepped back inside. It would look odd if she lingered out here for too long without saying hello. She’d cheerfully greet Steve, have a brief few words with him, and slink off upstairs on the pretence of printing off some quiz questions for someone.

No such luck!

The second she entered the kitchen, Steve started.

‘Here she is …’ His eyes dipped to Rebecca’s breasts and back up again, as was customary with any female he encountered. ‘Cozying up to footballers now, I see.’ He pointed to Greg’s laptop, having clearly been briefed. ‘Bet there’s a few women would like to trade places with you there, Mrs S.’

Rebecca half-laughed, fighting the onset of another blush. ‘
Drink?
’

‘No, ta. I told the Mrs I’d only be an hour.’

Rebecca cringed as Steve began lambasting footballers, even though he’d freely admitted his dismay at missing out on meeting Alex. How many women they bedded. (Ha! That was rich, coming from Steve Wolfe!) How it was well known they could have anyone or anything they desired: flash cars, free clothes, big houses, no-questions-asked endless favours, all the while grimacing and tutting his disapproval, roping Greg in.

‘In fairness to Alex Heath, he seemed okay, didn’t he, Bex?’ Greg interrupted, gently pulling Rebecca to his side.

‘Yes, well he might come across nice enough in public or on camera,’ Steve maintained, slapping a hand down on the back of Greg’s chair, ‘but I bet in private he’s a right cocky bastard. Believe me, anyone who looks like
that
,’ he said, jabbing a stubby index finger at the laptop screen, ‘does not need to worry about pleasing people.’ He sighed. ‘Lucky beggar! I’m just jealous.’ He laughed, as did Greg.

More sniping followed. How uneducated Alex probably was. How gullible. How he no doubt pissed half of his astronomical wage packet up the wall on call girls and in casinos. Bloody genius in the air though …

Blah, blah, sodding blah!

How dare they? No mention whatsoever of Nina’s glossy red posing pout, Rebecca noticed. All gone quiet on that front, surprise, surprise.

Steve left soon afterwards, still shaking his head at Greg’s jamminess at meeting Alex, stating his desire to be added to the next charity ball guest list as he swaggered down the hallway, work manuals tucked under his sweaty armpit.

Shallow creep! Rebecca wanted to lob her flip-flop at the back of his retreating head. Wonder if he’d be quite so mouthy to Alex’s face?

She could feel herself edging perilously close to the brink. Perhaps she should go upstairs and cool off for a bit, or she’d never get through this lunch date.

Greg came back into the kitchen before she could escape.

‘Poor old Wolfie. You could see the envy seeping from his every pore,’ he said, laughing and easing himself back onto his perch. ‘Hey, I’ll tell you who would be jealous if he saw these photos.’ Agonisingly for Rebecca, he spun the laptop her way again.

‘Who?’ she asked, desperate to pop a couple of headache pills and flee.

‘Thick Nick!’ Greg rubbed his hands together. ‘I imagine Abigail would be suitably impressed too. Although you’d probably have to explain to her who Alex Heath is.’

Rebecca kept quiet, not wanting to give this particular conversation thread any more mileage. She turned away from him, opened the nearest food cupboard and pretended to rifle through its contents. ‘What time did you want to go out to lunch?’ she asked, head buried amongst the baked bean and plum tomato tins, eliciting no response.

She glanced round to ask him again and saw him squinting at his screen, scrolling through a list of contacts.

‘What’s Abi’s email address?’ he asked. ‘I’m sure I had it from one of those stupid round-robin jokes you include everyone in on occasionally. I do have her mobile number, I suppose.’

Rebecca reddened. ‘What do you want it for?’

‘To send her the photos so she can show Nick. Help me think up a suitable caption or a couple of one-liners to really rub it in.’

‘Why? So you can brag? They’ll think you’re a jerk.’

‘No, they won’t!’

‘Yes, they will. It’s childish.’ Rebecca knew she was overreacting, but she could sense things spiralling, feel the tiniest pricks of panic at the thought of Abi’s sheer horror and confusion upon receiving said pictures from Greg’s private email address without being fully updated by her.

‘Ha! I knew I had it.’ An exultant grin settled upon Greg’s face.

‘Greg, please don’t send them to her. I look so gormless, and anyway, I’m having tapas with her on Monday night, so I’ll tell her then,’ said Rebecca, exhausting every trick she knew.

‘Oh, come on. Abi’s forever droning on about celebrities either she or her boss have seen or met. Anyway, Nick’s a genuine football fan. Stop bucking against me on this. You shouldn’t be embarrassed. You need to get used to this kind of thing.’ The old vocal sharpness had crept back in. ‘Right, where was I?’

‘No!’ She jogged his arm, startling herself as much as him.

‘What
is
the matter with you? You’re shaking. It’s a laugh, for pity’s sake.’

‘It’s not a laugh.’ Rebecca’s voice sounded small and feeble. ‘Abi already knows Alex Heath. We both do.’

Greg scowled at her as though she’d told him the moon was made of cheese. ‘Well, I know you do. You met him last Saturday night in Manchester,’ he said, folding his arms across his chest, his laptop forgotten for a second. ‘How does Abi know him though?’

All sound faded, all images blurred, except for the clock ticking away on the wall behind Greg’s head. Two minutes to midday. Rebecca knew she’d remember this scene forever.

‘He and his friend were staying at Hawksley Manor the same weekend as us,’ she said.

Greg’s frown lines deepened. ‘What? And Abi spoke to him?’

‘We both did.’ Rebecca licked her dry lips.

‘As in asked for his autograph, you mean? Why are you blushing, Rebecca?’ His eyes flickered over his laptop screen and back to her. ‘So, he didn’t recognise you at the charity do, then?’ He stood up, came round the breakfast bar, narrowing the space between them. ‘Or is that why you looked so uncomfortable when I introduced you to him?’

He had her. Rebecca could see it in his eyes. Smell his suspicion. Hear the ping of his antenna.

‘Why didn’t you say you’d met him in York? What aren’t you telling me?’ he asked, moving even closer to her, his expression sober.

‘Greg, please. I feel like you’re cross-examining me.’

‘Too bloody right I am. You’re protecting her, aren’t you?’

‘
Sorry?
’ Rebecca leaned back, the intensity of his stare unnerving her.

‘Abi!’ he spat. ‘Make a fool of herself over him, did she? Throw herself at him in the bar, leave you lumbered with his mate? Fancy herself as a bit of a weekend wag?’ He sarcastically bobbed his head from side to side, raising his fingers either side of it in mock-quotation marks.

‘Stop it!’

‘I’m right, aren’t I? No wonder you slunk off early to the room last weekend with a headache.’

Rebecca shook her head. ‘You’ve got it all wrong.’

‘Rubbish! You’d have told me you’d met him, otherwise.’ He slapped his palm against his forehead. ‘Oh, hang on, I get it … she slept with him, didn’t she?’

‘If you let me speak, I’ll explain,’ said Rebecca, knowing this was it.

‘Poor old Nick. Brainless twit’s engaged to her as well,’ said Greg, ignoring her. He let out a melodramatic laugh. ‘Good grief, can you imagine if Alex Heath had recognised you at the charity ball and said something in front of Brian? Or Nina? Or anyone for that matter? What the hell was Abi thinking chasing after a footballer? Worse still, dragging you along for the bloody ride.’ He thumped his hand against his chest. ‘I’m telling you now, if you think I’m risking the chance of her tarnishing everything we’ve built, sullying my reputation,
your
reputation as my wife, given this close shave, then you’re mistaken.’ He glared across at his laptop screen, then back at her, eyes blazing. ‘I want you to drop her.’

Rebecca rested one hand on the edge of the breakfast bar for support. It was like someone had given a sharp downward tug on her emotional emergency chord. ‘This is it, Rebecca,’ a voice in her head screamed. ‘Your hand’s been forced. No delete and start again option. You have to tell him.’

Greg stood there, defiant, glowering at her.

‘It wasn’t Abi who was with Alex Heath at Hawksley Manor,’ she said. ‘It was me.’

An involuntary burst of laughter escaped his lips. ‘
You
?’ The grin fell from his face as she thumbed away a tear. ‘Christ, you’re serious, aren’t you?’

‘Yes, I am. But I swear to you I haven’t slept with him.’

‘Ah, right … well, forgive my dim-wittedness, but I’m struggling to grasp the term “with him”,’ said Greg, bringing his face an inch from hers, his eyes almost demonic. ‘Have a drink with him? Dance with him? Meal with him? All fucking three with him?’ Flecks of spittle hit Rebecca’s cheek, his language indicating how close he was to losing it with her.

‘Sit down and I promise I will clarify everything.’

‘I’m not sitting anywhere. Just talk!’

And so, right there in the middle of their kitchen, Rebecca told him the truth. No excuses. No blame throwing. Just a brutally honest, shaky-voiced account of the sequence of events that weekend; why she thought things had happened, how she’d felt prior, how she felt now, she even told him about her visit to Battersea.

Greg had already begun slow handclapping before she’d even finished. ‘And you seriously expect me to believe that my wife went off to York on the Friday, a perfectly normal, happily married woman and came back three days later a different person. Let’s examine the evidence here, shall we?’ He started pacing the kitchen. ‘Number One …’ he ranted, hamming the histrionics to the max, ‘a weekend trip conveniently planned to coincide with Nick and I both being away. Two: nightclubbing until the early hours with footballing posse and champagne on tap in a VIP Lounge. Three: complete disregard for the first class return travel tickets I bought you both. Four: a certain person who’s hated yours truly from day one. Ah, yes … the common denominator … Abigail Huxley. I bet she’s laughing her head off.’

Rebecca banged her hand down on the work surface, rattling the mug tree. ‘Stop blaming Abi! It’s me who’s done wrong.
ME!
And I take full responsibility. As for me going away happily married, you couldn’t be more wrong. Have you not listened to anything I’ve said to you these past few weeks? You say I’m a different person. Look in the mirror! I’m not proud of what’s happened, the awful way it’s all come out about Alex, but our problems go way further back than York, and we have to face them and deal with them. Look at all the work secrets you’ve been keeping from me all these months! What exactly is your relationship with Nina? Answer me that.’

Talk about wallop a raw nerve. Rebecca feared Greg was about to charge at her, he looked so angry.

‘You stand there and dare to question me after what you’ve told me, when you could have been photographed, followed, made me the laughing stock of Manchester and beyond. As for Nina, yes, we’ve thawed towards one another, because we’ve
had
to. For business reasons we must put on a united front. I need a wife who supports me on that. A wife with decorum. Don’t even attempt to try and swing this on me, Rebecca.’

He leaned over the breakfast bar, snapped his laptop shut, scooped up his car key, and marched out of the kitchen.

‘Where are you going? We need to talk.’ Rebecca half-ran to keep up with him.

‘Abi’s!’ He stopped at the hallway cupboard under the stairs to grab a pair of trainers.

‘WHAT? Greg, please … What good will that do?’

‘I want to speak to her.’ He shrugged off Rebecca’s attempts to pull his arm back, yanked open both front and porch doors and stormed across the drive, remotely unlocking the garage as he went.

‘I’m coming with you.’ Rebecca had lost a flip-flop in the commotion and quickly ducked back inside to retrieve it, along with her handbag, only to see Shirley from next door net-twitching as she re-emerged and shut the porch door behind her.

Greg’s car engine roared.

Rebecca stood in the middle of the drive as he reversed out the Lexus.

She ran round to the side of it and leapt in before he could wheel-spin off without her. The mood he was in, it would take all of five minutes to reach Abi’s place.

Five minutes before the poor unsuspecting soul faced the weight of his wrath.

And Rebecca couldn’t even warn her.

Abi was slicing pineapple in the kitchen when she heard the screech of brakes outside. Bloody rowdy lot! Why did they have to slam their car doors so hard? Nick must have seen them. He was sitting out on the balcony having a fag, with plum view of the car park.

She wiped her hands on some kitchen roll, flung a couple of sheets of it over the fruit, and headed off to investigate, stopping short, midway across the lounge, when Nick burst through the French doors and hissed at her, ‘Greg and Rebecca are here!’

‘What?’ Abi looked at her watch, barely registering what Nick had said, before the intercom buzzed. Twice. Short and sharp. Then a third time, long and finger-jammed-against-it insistent.

‘What the …?’ Nick strode into the hallway. ‘I’ll have to answer it,’ he said. ‘Greg already spotted me outside. He looked well annoyed, babe. Rebecca could hardly keep up with him.’

Abi’s stomach lurched. Did Greg know about Alex?

Greg’s icy voice spoke via the entryphone, ‘Nick, let me in, please. I need to speak to Abi.’ Nick glanced across at her, perplexed.

‘It’s okay,’ she said. ‘I think I know why he’s here.’

Nick depressed the button, granting their surprise Saturday afternoon visitors access. ‘I’d better put a top on, I suppose,’ he said, scooting past Abi into the bedroom.

She checked out her own reflection in the hallway mirror. No make-up and a wee bit too much cleavage on show. Oh, well. Too late now. The doorbell had just gone.

She hoiked up the neckline of her purple T-shirt an inch as Nick drew alongside her in his new Crystal Palace top, her stab at appearing nonchalant scuppered the second she opened the front door and saw Greg’s face.

He looked like he was about to do an Incredible Hulk on her.

Thank goodness Nick was there.

Rebecca stood behind Greg. ‘I’m so sorry,’ she mouthed to Abi, the stricken expression on her pale face confirming the worst.

‘You’d better come in,’ said Abi, moving aside to let them both pass. ‘Go on through to the lounge.’

‘I’ll say what I’ve got to say right here, thanks,’ said Greg, rounding on her, three steps inside the door, jabbing a downward finger at the square of parquet flooring he occupied.

‘Easy mate. No need to get arsey,’ said Nick, stepping forward, half-shielding Abi with his body.

Abi had to admit, Greg had her ruffled. What if things turned really nasty? Although confident that Nick could overpower him, it would hardly be a doddle.

‘Oh, believe me, Nick, you’ll understand perfectly why I’m arsey when you hear this,’ said Greg, practically spitting out the words.

‘Greg, please don’t do this. It’s between you and me,’ said Rebecca, touching his forearm.

‘Like hell it is!’ He jerked away from her as if contaminated. ‘Ask your fiancée who they met in York, Nick. Who, along with his mate, wined and dined them and was staying at the same hotel as them, making up a cozy little foursome whilst you were conveniently in Spain and I was breaking my balls trying to secure a deal that will help to provide my darling wife here,’ he flapped a hand in Rebecca’s general direction, ‘with a better and somewhat richer future. Go on, Nick! Ask her!’

‘Greg, will you please calm down, we need to talk about this rationally,’ said Abi. She’d never seen him so angry. How much did he know for crying out loud?

She risked a peep at Rebecca, gauging nothing. The poor love looked tormented.

‘Will someone please tell me what’s going on,’ said Nick.

‘I met someone at Hawksley Manor,’ blurted Rebecca. ‘It’s not an affair, and it’s only part of a very long and very complex story, none of which Abi is to blame for. She got caught up in it, that’s all.’

Bless her heart, trying to protect me, thought Abi.

‘
SOMEONE!
’ Greg’s laughter bounced off the walls. ‘Er … let’s rephrase that, shall we, Rebecca? The someone my wife’s been seeing behind my back,’ he said, staring straight at Nick, ‘is Alex Heath.’

‘What,
the
Alex Heath?’

‘I know. Preposterous, isn’t it?’

Nick gaped at Rebecca.

‘And as for her claiming that you’re innocent in it all,’ Greg added, pointing at Abi, ‘I’ve never heard such horseshit. I bet you’re loving every minute of it.’ He switched his attention back to Nick. ‘Has she told you about the two of them getting a lift back to London from Heath’s wide-boy mate?’

Abi shrank before Nick’s inquisitive gaze. What else did Greg know about Kenny?

‘As I explained to you earlier,’ Rebecca interrupted, her eyes flitting between the two men, ‘Kenny was travelling back down south, so it made sense. Please, Greg, just leave Abi and Nick out of this.’

Greg wheeled round, grabbed her by the shoulders. ‘Do I look like a prize dunce? Are you seriously expecting me to believe that you weren’t encouraged by her at all?’

‘Whoah! Take it easy!’ Nick thrust an arm across Greg’s chest, forcing him to release her.

‘Nick, I know you must feel totally confused, but I swear I can and I will explain everything to you,’ said Abi, the full severity of the situation now painfully apparent.

What a horrid way for it to all come out.

‘Save it, Abi! Rebecca would never have acted the way she did in York if you hadn’t been there,’ said Greg, before turning to face Nick. ‘Do yourself a favour, my friend, and dump her whilst you still have the chance. She’s poison!’

‘Don’t tell me what to do, Greg.’

Oh, no!
Abi could see Nick puffing out his chest.

‘Greg, I think you should go,’ she said, wrenching open the front door.

The look he threw both women in return gave Abi goosebumps, his parting shot to Rebecca before he marched off being, ‘stay out of my sight until you’re ready to apologise, tell me the whole truth and stop insulting my intelligence.’

Nick closed the door behind him, turned round and leaned back against it.

‘I’m so, so sorry, Nick,’ said Rebecca, sliding down the wall. She stared up at him from the floor, knees raised, hands clasped tightly around them.

Nick didn’t respond, choosing instead to focus on Abi. ‘What’s going on, Abs?’

‘Help me get Bex into the lounge and I’ll tell you,’ she said.

Rebecca awoke to the sound of footsteps in the hallway – the front door clicking open and shut. Had Abi gone out? Or was it Nick? she questioned, needing no reminder of whose sofa she lay on. An engine revving into life in the distance suggested Nick. It sounded like his work van.

She cast a look at the time displayed on the DVD player. 5.20 p.m.

Where had the last four hours gone?

She remembered Nick handing her a brandy, Abi tucking half her hair back into her scrunchie for her, encouraging her to lie down, placing two cream and aquamarine cushions under her head. They’d solemnly left the room. Rebecca had overheard them talking in the kitchen – raised, muffled voices, discussing events.

She could recall feeling heavy-eyed, leg-weary. How could she have fallen asleep with all that had happened?

She could still hear the spite in Greg’s tone, see him scowling at her. She had to go home and speak to him. Now. She also owed Abi and Nick a full explanation of how and why things had escalated so fast. Abi hadn’t even received her charity bash update, hence their scheduled date for this coming Monday. Not likely that would now happen.

Rebecca half-raised herself off the sofa, eyes scanning the floor for her handbag, then gingerly stood up.

Abi walked into the lounge. ‘Thought I heard movement.’

‘Oh, Abs, what a shambles.’ Rebecca stumbled into her arms.

They stood there for a moment, rocking in each other’s embrace, before Abi gently pulled away. ‘I’ll make us a coffee.’

‘Where’s Nick gone?’ Rebecca prayed with all her heart that Abi wouldn’t say he’d dumped her.

‘For a drive. To his brother’s, I suspect. Although whether he’ll tell him anything or not, I don’t know. He said he needed to clear his head. I’ve told him everything, including me meeting up with Kenny. After the kick-off I made about his stag do shenanigans, I
had
to.’

Rebecca rubbed her eyes with thumb and forefinger. ‘Do you think he’ll be okay about it?’

Abi shrugged and sighed. ‘I think so, given that, technically, we were separated when I met up with Kenny. Or at least I hope so. It’s really shocked him. All of it has. I mean he knew there were giant relationship rumblings afoot between you and Greg, but I think the Alex element has freaked him slightly. Not in a bad way. He’s just …’ She raised her arms as though word-searching.

‘Gobsmacked?’

‘That’s the one.’ Abi smiled at her. ‘Anyway, I’m switching to bossy boots mode now. You can forget about going home tonight. You’re staying here. I’ve already made up the spare bed and dug you out a nightie. Don’t faint at the shortness of it. It’s that or nothing. I rarely wear one.’

‘Oh, no, I can’t. I have to see Greg. He was livid when he left here. I have to talk to him. There’s so much that’s been left unsaid.’

‘Yes, well, not tonight, my lovely. Stay there and I’ll show you why.’ Abi scurried out of the room and was back in seconds, clutching Rebecca’s handbag. ‘You left this in the hallway. I took out your phone about half an hour ago when it started ringing.’ She waved it in the air with her free hand. ‘There’s a voice message. I’ve not listened to it, but my phone rang too. I was talking to Nick so I didn’t answer it, but right after he left here, I received a text from Greg, saying,
“Tell Rebecca not to bother coming home tonight because I’ll be out, and to check her bloody voice messages.”
’

Rebecca covered her face with her hands. ‘You’d better give me the phone.’

Greg’s message was as cold and blunt as she’d expected.
‘Since you’ve sided with Abi and are now childishly ignoring my calls, I’m now going out tonight and would rather you not be here when I come home as I’m in no mood to talk to you.’

‘Thing is,’ said Abi, after listening to it too, ‘I’m wondering if you ought to let Alex know. You know … in case Greg tries to contact him or something.’

‘He won’t. Take it from me, he was more worried about the embarrassment any scandal might cause him, than doing the “jealous husband” thing. Anyway, when I last spoke to Alex he told me his best friend Scott is staying with him this weekend. There’s a friendly match this afternoon and then a few of them are going out for Jermaine’s thirtieth birthday drinks, so I doubt we’d get hold of him now, anyway.’

‘Jermaine, as in the huge nightclub doorman, Jermaine?’

‘Yes. Also, the new season kicks off next week. Why ruin his focus? If I thought Greg was going to kick up a fuss or go to the press or anything like that, then of course I’d tell him, but I’m one hundred per cent sure he won’t. It was all about upholding his image.’

‘Fair enough,’ said Abi, not looking overly convinced. ‘What a mess! I think I’ll abandon those coffees and crack open a bottle. Who knows what time Nick will return? Come through to the kitchen. We’ve got so much to catch up on.’

Rebecca had not long finished updating Abi when Nick surprised them both by walking back through the door with a Sainsbury’s carrier bag full of food shopping.

‘I’ll make myself scarce,’ she immediately said.

‘No you won’t.’ Nick dumped the bag on the kitchen table. He walked towards them, pulling both women in for a three-way group hug, first kissing Abi on top of her head, then Rebecca. ‘I take it you’re staying here with us tonight,’ he said, looking down at her.

Tears stung Rebecca’s eyes. ‘If you’re sure that’s okay.’

Nick nodded towards the carrier bag and winked at her. ‘Knock us up one of your famous spag bologneses and it will be!’