Rumor Has It (11 page)

    'Oh?'
Just sound natural
. 'What happened last night?'

    'Oh God, a fuse blew in the house and all the lights went out. Then to cap it all, my cat was sick and I didn't know
where
he'd been sick, so I was worried about him and I
hate
the dark. I'm telling you, it was a nightmare.'

    'Sounds awful.' Keep on sounding natural, just as if someone's tellin
g
you about their trip to the dentist.
'Is… is your cat all right now?'

    'He's fine.' Stella's eyes narrowed and her nostrils flared as she expertly investigated the bag from every angle.

    'And… and the lights? You managed to get them back on?'

    'In the end. Fergus came over.' Exhaling noisily, Stella said, 'You know, I really think he might be secretly seeing someone behind my back.'

    'Do you?'
Oh help, just breathe… and breathe again…

    Stella gave the handbag a final cursory once-over, then handed it back. 'He'd better not be, that's all I can say. Thanks, I won't bother with this. The buckle on the front looks a bit cheap.'

It was hilarious, watching everyone come streaming out of school. At ten minutes past four, the silence was shattered by the bell ringing, and by eleven minutes past four, pupils were spilling on to the steps of Harleston Hall, weighed down with school bags and musical in struments and sports holdalls bulging with gym clothes.

    Tilly, leaning against the car waiting for Lou to emerge, watched as gaggles of girls freed their hair of scrunchies and shook it loose. Groups of boys with deliberately untucked shirts and tousled hair sauntered along. Some pupils were already plugged into their iPods. There was plenty of texting going on. Girls eyed up boys and boys chucked things at girls. A can of Red Bull went flying through the air and hit one of the sycamore trees lining the drive, exploding in a foun tain of froth. There were pupils of all shapes and sizes, slouchy boys with bad skin, knowing girls with hiked-up skirts and kohl-lined eyes, confident athletic types, serious studious ones, cheerful jokey ones.

    And there, bless her heart, was Lou coming down the stone steps, struggling to simultaneously loop her school scarf round her neck and stuff a pair of trainers into her backpack. Tilly wondered if this was how it felt to be a proud parent; already Lou seemed more vivid, more interesting than everyone else. With her wild red-gold curls and skinny legs in matte black tights and clumpy shoes, she stood out from the rest, maybe not the prettiest girl in the school but surely the one with the sparkiest personality.

    Then Tilly straightened up and focused more intently as Lou turned and said something to the boy behind her, clearly replying to some remark he'd just made. The boy, tall and lanky, was grinning and carrying a tennis racquet. As Lou swung round, one of the train ers fell out of her backpack and with lightning reflexes he reached down with his racquet, scooped it up and batted it high into the air. Even from this distance Tilly could see the look Lou shot him as her trainer landed in a hedge. Shaking her head in disgust, she stalked past him and retrieved it. Laughing, the boy said something else and Lou tossed back her hair as she retaliated.

    Tilly smiled. It looked like Kaye had been right. Watching Lou's reaction to the boy's attention brought back memories of her own first tentative foray into the scary but thrilling world of boys. Her particular nemesis had been called Lee Jarvis and he'd teased her non stop, driving her demented. How could one fourteen-year-old boy
be
so annoying? And then somehow, after months of him being the absolute bane of her life, she had mysteriously found herself agree ing to dance with him at the school disco. And somehow he hadn't seemed quite so annoying anymore, and somehow Lee had ended up mumbling in her ear, 'You know, I've fancied you for ages,' and to her own amazement she'd found herself realizing that, actually, she fancied him too. And right there and then, in the middle of the dance floor in front of
everyone
while George Michael sang 'Careless Whisper,' they'd ended up kissing,
with tongues…

    And braces, sadly. There'd been a brief uncomfortable clash as metal had scraped against metal, but they'd eventually managed to work around them.

    Lost in a nostalgic glow as she remembered that happy summer of clunky metallic kisses, Tilly jumped a mile when Lou appeared in front of her.

    'Boo! You were miles away.'

    'Sorry, I was just thinking back to my schooldays. Seems like a lifetime ago now.'

    'It
was
a lifetime ago. You left school before I was even born.' Interested, Lou said, 'Does that make you feel really old?'

    'Thanks, yes, it really does.' As they climbed into the car, Tilly glanced over her shoulder and saw the boy with the tennis racquet loping up behind them. As he drew level he grinned at Lou and waggled his fingers in a kind of half-teasing, half-sarcastic wave.

    Lou didn't wave back. Instead, she pointedly turned her head away and hissed air out from between her teeth like a radiator being bled.

    'Who's he, then?' Tilly said it in a light, casual way.

    'A complete idiot.'

    'Is he? I saw you chatting as you came out of school.'

    'We weren't chatting. I was telling him he's a complete idiot. Or words to that effect.'

    'He looks quite nice.' The boy had floppy dark hair, no acne, and killer cheekbones. You could imagine girls falling for him; he wouldn't look out of place in a boy band.

    'Well, he's not. I hate him. What's for tea?'

    Tilly kept a straight face. Oh yes, that was familiar. How many times, when her friends had said Lee fancied her, had she announced that she hated him? Then abruptly changed the subject. She watched out of the corner of her eye as Lou rummaged through her jam packed rucksack and found a bent Cadbury then glanced briefly at the boy she hated before ostentatiously turning away again.

    'What's his name?'

    'Eddie Marshall-Hicks. What are we having for tea?'

    'Fish pie and blackberry crumble.' Tilly mentally squirreled the name away. Next time she spoke to Kaye on the phone, she'd find out if this was the same boy.

'It was weird.' Erin didn't mean to go on about it but her lunchtime visit from Stella had put the wind up her. 'She seemed… different. I can't describe the way she was.'

    'So don't try. Let's just relax and have fun.' Fergus twirled Erin through from the kitchen and pulled her down with him on to the sofa. 'If Stella knew about us, trust me,
we'd
know about it. She'd come right out and say it. But she hasn't, so that means she doesn't. And I'm not going to let the thought of my ex-wife spoil our evening. We'll cross that bridge when we come to it. In the meantime, did I ever tell you what a difference you're making to my secretary's life?'

    'Jeannie? I've never even met her.'

    'Ah, but you can still make a difference.' Fergus arranged Erin's legs so they were resting across his lap and ran a hand affectionately over her ankles. 'Thanks to you, I've been in a ridiculously good mood today. When Jeannie double-booked me for meetings with two clients I said, oh well, no problem, I'll just have to squeeze them both in somehow. I'm telling you, she nearly fainted away with the shock. Next I asked for coffee and she brought me tea, and I didn't threaten to sack her. Then I checked a letter I'd dictated for a client and instead of Dear Mr Robertson she'd typed Deaf Mr Robertson. Which could have been tricky, seeing as Mr Robertson is deaf. But I didn't even yell at her.' Fergus shook his head, amazed by his own forbearance. 'I just said she might like to alter the letter before we sent it out.'

    Erin didn't believe for a moment that he ever yelled at his secre tary, but she smiled anyway. 'And all because of me?'

    'All because of you.'

    A thought struck her. 'Does Jeannie
know
that? Could she have told Stella?'

    'Hey, stop it.' Fergus stroked her arm. 'You're getting paranoid now. For a start, Jeannie may have guessed I'm seeing someone, but she has no idea who. And secondly, if she did know, she wouldn't tell Stella. They never did like each other. Ever since the day Stella came into the office and said, "Jeannie, have you ever thought of writing in to one of those transformation TV shows and asking for a makeover?"'

    'Ouch.'

    'Well, yes. I thought there'd be bloodshed. Anyway, we're back to talking about Stella. Can we please change the subject again? Could we maybe talk about you for a change? I'd much rather—'

    Ddddrrrringgg went the doorbell, causing Erin to catapult upright in fear. 'Oh God, it's her!'

    'Don't be daft, of course it isn't. It could be anyone.'

    'I suppose it might be Tilly.' Erin began to relax. That would be all right, she could invite Tilly in to meet Fergus.

    'Could be someone with a collecting tin. You'd better go and see.'

    Cautiously Erin peered out of the window overlooking the High Street, but there was no one there. Leaving the living room, she crossed the hall and ventured halfway down the stairs; the fact that her front door led out into a narrow side alleyway was a bonus when it came to enabling Fergus to enter the flat unobserved, but the downside was that it meant she had no way of peering out and seeing who was on the doorstep.

    'Hello?' Please,
please
let her visitor be Tilly.

    'Erin? Can you open the door please? It's Stella Welch.'

OH GOD, OH GOD. Collapsing back on the stair in fright, Erin clutched at the handrail for support. Oh God, Fergus had told her she was being paranoid. It wasn't supposed to actually happen. 'Um… I can't come down at the moment… I'm not dressed…'

    'Please, just open the door. I need to see you.'

    Erin's heart was banging like a cannon doing a twenty-one-gun salute. 'What about?'

    'Well, for a start, the fact that you're refusing to open the door. What's wrong, Erin? What are you afraid of?'

    You, you,
you.

    'Nothing.' All the feeling had gone from her legs.

    'So why won't you let me in?'

    'It just isn't… convenient.'

    'Oh? And why's that?' demanded Stella. 'Could it possibly be because you have my husband up there with you in your flat?'

    How? How could she possibly know? Feeling sick, Erin said, 'I don't, OK? He's not here. Look, I'm not answering the door and I'm going back upstairs now, so please just… go away.'

    Unbelievably, Fergus hadn't heard any of this. As she stumbled back into the living room, he patted the sofa and said, 'What was it, Jehovah's Witnesses? Come here, I've missed you.'

    'It was Stella.' The words felt like ice in her mouth.

    His expression abruptly changed. 'You're joking. It can't be.'

    They both jumped as a shower of gravel rattled against the window.

    'Oh
God.'
Erin's stomach clenched. This was turning into
Fatal Attraction.

    'Come on, Fergus, I know you're in there.' Stella's furious voice sailed up to them; she was outside on the pavement now, in full view of anyone who happened to be passing.

    'She's making a scene,' said Erin.

    Fergus looked grim. 'She wants to make a scene. Stella's always been a drama queen.'

    'Fergus, you cheating BASTARD,' bellowed Stella.

    'Oh God.' Erin covered her mouth as Fergus rose to his feet.

    'Right, that's it.' He crossed the room and flung open the window.

    'Ha! I knew it!' Stella yelled.

    'Fine, good for you. But this is exactly why I didn't tell you before.' Fergus shook his head in despair. 'I knew you'd make a fuss.'

    'Why wouldn't I make a fuss? You're my husband!'

    'Stella, we're not
together
anymore. We broke up six months ago. We're getting a divorce.'

    'Thanks to
her,
' Stella screeched like a parrot.

    Oh no, no,
no
. Leaping up, Erin raced over to the open window. 'Hang on, that's not true, you can't—'

    '
You
,' Stella jabbed an accusing finger up at her, 'are a lying, marriage-wrecking bitch!'

    'I'm not, I'm really not, I promise. This only just happened.'

    'Oh yes, and of course I'm going to believe that.' Shaking her head, Stella said bitterly, 'Of course I'm going to believe everything you say.'

    'I swear to God, I'm telling the truth!'

    'Really? Just like you did the other day, when I came into the shop and asked you if you thought Fergus was seeing anyone? And you said no, you definitely didn't think he was?'

    Erin flinched, closing her eyes for a moment. 'OK, that wasn't completely true. But I promise the other stuff is. I would never have an affair with a married man.'

'You're having an affair with one now!'

'But you're
separated
.'

    Below her on the pavement, Stella spread her arms wide. 'And now we know why!'

    God, this was a nightmare. Look at them, yelling at each other like a couple of fishwives. People heading along the High Street were turning to stare, stopping to listen.

    'Right, that's enough.' It was Fergus's turn to intervene. 'This isn't getting us anywhere. Stella, you're being unfair—'

    '
I'm
being unfair? My God, you hypocrite! My life is in tatters thanks to you, and you expect me to just stand here and take it?'