The Birds and the Bees (32 page)

‘No!’ said Stevie, horrified but sympathetic.

‘Yes. I regret my outburst now. Only because she ran off with my wee cat, though–och he was great, I loved him a load. She took him and then she gave him away, can you believe? She just didnae want me to have him. Diane was so cold, and then along came Jo with her “vulnerability” and her soft words, just when I needed them most.’ As he was telling this to Stevie, Adam realized just how much of a gift Jo had when it came to manipulating men. She had played to his insecurities; that initial warmth she had used to reel him in had chilled by a few degrees every day to keep him interested, to keep him on the begging end of her attention. ‘The rest, as they say, is history.’

‘Crap at picking partners, aren’t we?’ said Stevie. ‘I once went out with a policeman who was knocking off grannies behind my back.’

‘I can beat that. My first proper girlfriend said she wouldn’t sleep with me unless I covered my hair up with a shower cap.’

‘I can understand that, though.’

‘Och, you cheeky wee…’

He leapt on her playfully and she shrieked with laughter, and suddenly the words and sounds dropped away because there was no more need for them, and his hands were cradling her face, and his lips started an achingly slow descent to hers as if he was scared she would push him away, but she didn’t. Her heart was pumping some weird chemical around her system that was making her drunk with smiley feelings. The air around them was still as if it too was holding its breath. Adam’s lips brushed Stevie’s teasingly and she thought she was going to explode if they didn’t come into land, like
now
.

Then someone knocked on the bloody door, and kept knocking.

‘Matthew, whatever’s the matter?’ asked Stevie, forced to answer the door before he bashed it down. He looked terrible: bleached and distressed, and his hair was stuck up like Ken Dodd’s.

‘Can I have a quiet word, Stevie?’ He looked past Stevie to Adam, who melted into the background, leaving them to it.

‘What is it?’

‘Can you come across the road, please?’

Stevie looked horrified at him. ‘Over there? No, I can’t. Why?’

‘Jo and I are finished.’

‘What?’ Stevie’s head started swimming with shock.

She looked behind her. Adam wasn’t there, but she knew he must have heard what Matthew had just said. She wanted to go and find him, and see what that piece of information had done to him. Then again she didn’t.
Jo was free. It was obvious what it would mean to him
.

‘Please, Stevie!’

Despite the frustration in her heart and her body, she couldn’t say no. She couldn’t have deserted anyone in that
state. Except Jo, maybe. She could make an exception in her case.

She slipped on her shoes, took another look behind her and followed Matthew across the road.

‘I don’t want to go in there,’ she said, as he opened up the door.

‘Please. There’s no way she’ll be coming here again,’ he said, and disappeared inside. Cautiously, she went in behind him, feeling a prickle at the back of her neck as if Adam was watching her.

It felt odd to be in the house. It was as if she had never lived there, but remembered it from old photos. It was horribly untidy and there was a film of dust everywhere that gave the room a dull, dead appearance. She half-expected to see Miss Haversham covered in cobwebs sitting in the wing chair with a big spidery wedding cake.

‘Stevie, I’m sorry, I just don’t have anywhere else to turn.’ He was walking up and down in front of her, overdosed with nervous energy.

‘Matthew, sit down, please. Start from the beginning.’

‘I don’t know where the beginning of this mess is. I’ve been sacked. Jo’s left me. I came home today and all her stuff had gone. I don’t know what to do.’

Stevie gulped. Jo had left him. Would she try to come back to Adam then? Would she walk straight back into that soft, forgiving part of his heart that was forever reserved for her? Stevie felt panicky and wanted to go back to the cottage. She stood up to go, but then Matthew started to make strange groaning noises and she knew she couldn’t leave him.

‘Why have you been sacked, Matthew?’

‘For harassing Jo. Yes, don’t look at me like that. I know what you’re going to say.’

‘I don’t understand.’

‘I think Jo has been spreading stories at work that I’ve been hitting her.’

‘You hitting her?’ Anyone who knew Matthew wouldn’t believe that, surely. Then again, people judged on hearsay–wasn’t she herself testament to that?

‘It gets worse. I’m also, apparently, a sexual predator.’

‘Why would she say things like that?’

‘I think she got the idea that I had more money than I actually have.’ He looked shifty at that point. ‘When she found out I was broke, things changed. She started…
Oh God! That’s why!
’

Matthew slapped his forehead as the realization of what all that rough sex was about hit him like a bullet to the brain.
The bruises! That was why she wanted him to bite her. How thick was he not to have seen it?

‘What, Matthew?’

‘She started asking me for…’
What a knob I am!

‘For what?’

Matthew blanched. This really wasn’t the sort of thing Stevie should hear. But he was desperate, and to get the right sort of help, he needed to tell her everything. Just as if she was a sort of heart bank manager in the mould of Robert.

‘Rough sex. She wanted me to hurt her.’

Stevie shifted a little uncomfortably. It felt weird, listening to details of his intimacies with someone else. She
couldn’t tell if it hurt; her feelings were too mixed-up to pick out any pure emotions.

‘And did you?’

‘No, of course not! Although…’

‘What?’ she encouraged eventually, after no details were forthcoming.

‘I gave her a love bite, here’–he indicated the place on his own chest–‘it looked pretty nasty. But it wasn’t a real bite. And we both got a few bruises from banging into walls and falling off the bed and things. I’m not into that pain stuff, as you know.’

‘But why tell all those lies? Why didn’t she just leave you?’ asked Stevie, steering the conversation away from the history of their own sex-life.

‘I don’t know.’

Unless she had a new lover. Wasn’t that what she had done to Adam? Invent cuts and bruises to get the new sucker onside? thought Stevie, in full-on Miss Marple mode.

‘What are you thinking?’ said Matthew. He was half-talking, half-hiccuping like Danny did when he was upset.

‘Have you tried ringing her?’

‘She’s not answering.’

‘No, she wouldn’t,’ Stevie said, sourly.

‘I’ve just secured my house against my job. I’ll lose everything.’

‘Why have you done that?’

Matthew sighed and prepared to sacrifice a big chunk of pride.

‘I’ve got no money, Stevie. No, actually, I’ve got minus no money. I’m up to my neck in debt.’

And so you took Jo on holiday. With my son’s holiday money, Stevie thought, but she didn’t say it aloud. However much he might have deserved it, she couldn’t kick Matt when he was down. And he was about as down as you could get, by the look of things.

‘Please stay with me for a bit longer,’ he said, as she looked eagerly across the road and saw a light switch off. ‘Just ten minutes. Stevie, I’ve been so stupid. I’m not even sure she was telling the truth about Adam now. Maybe he didn’t hit her or do all those things she said he did.’

‘I’m quite positive she lied,’ said Stevie. ‘He’s a good man.’

‘Can I make you a coffee?’ he said, noticing the wistfulness in her voice and therefore changing the subject. He did not want to know how good Adam MacLean was, because Matthew didn’t feel like a very good man himself.

‘Just a quick one then,’ said Stevie, who didn’t want one, but couldn’t bear to see someone so lost. Matthew had a long sleepless lonely night in front of him; ten more minutes in his company wouldn’t kill her.

‘You can help me, Stevie. I hate to ask but you are the only one who could.’

‘In what way?’ she asked cautiously, in case he wanted her to be some intermediary between him and Bitchface.

‘Can you tell them at work that I’m not violent?’ he snuffled. ‘I’ll never work again if they think I’m a sexual predator. I can’t stand it that people are thinking that about me.’

And because Stevie had once been accused of apple
scrumping at school and couldn’t bear to see injustice, she said that she would.

When she went back to the cottage, only one light was on and Adam had gone to bed. She knocked gently on his door, but he was obviously asleep and didn’t answer.

His plan had worked, after all. Jo was free. There was nothing stopping him going to her.

Stevie didn’t think she could bear it.

Adam was awake, tracing the sounds of her footsteps up the stairs, her soft knock on his bedroom door, and he wanted so much to say, ‘I’m here, come into my room. Come into my bed,’ but he didn’t answer. So it looked as if his plan had worked, after all. Matthew was free and with one click of
his
fingers, he had managed to get her over the road again. She had leapt out of Adam’s arms to go to him. The sand in his hourglass had run out. Matthew was free. There was nothing stopping her going back to him.

Adam didn’t think he could bear it.

Adam had left for the day by the time she had got up the next morning. He must have crept out, Stevie reasoned, because she hadn’t heard a thing. In a panic she tore into his bedroom and threw open his wardrobe, but his clothes were still there and she almost wanted to sob with relief. Then she rang Catherine and asked if Danny had been okay. Catherine told her that he had trotted off to school with the others as happy as Larry, and she was going to pick him up as well because Eddie had promised he could go over to the allotment with Boot and Chico, the two dogs, and dig his mum out some veg. Stevie was to come for him after tea at six, and if she even tried to take him away earlier she would be in big trouble with everyone. Then Stevie told her she was the best friend in the world, and Catherine said she knew and demanded chocolates every day of her life, and every single detail of Adam MacLean’s willy, if she ever got them. Stevie laughed aloud for the benefit of her friend, but inside she felt hollow, because she knew she never would.

She wrote a text to Adam, asking him if he was okay and could she ring him. Then she deleted it before sending. It
was only fair to give him time to come to terms with Jo being available. Of course, Jo would hurt him again, but he loved her and she was his for the taking; Stevie knew that from all the jealous looks Jo had cast her at the barbecue. Adam needed space; all men did. According to
Men are from Mars
, anyway.

She went over to Matthew’s house at nine-thirty as she said she would. The sunlight didn’t do him or the house any favours. He hadn’t slept, that was obvious. Or shaved, or showered.

‘Who do I need to ask for?’ said Stevie, picking up the phone.

‘Colin Seed. He’s Head of Personnel. He’s been giving me the evil eye. Obviously hates my guts.’

‘What’s he like?’ said Stevie.

‘Rich, mid-forties, looks seventy, fat, 1982 trousers, eyebrows that vultures could nest in, jowly, drives a Bentley, lives in a big house. He’ll be the next CEO in a year, if they don’t ship him over to New York now that his mother’s carked it,’ said Matthew bitterly.

‘Rich, did you say?’

‘Loaded.’

‘And this evil eye–can I make a guess that it’s happened quite recently?’ said Stevie, her brain downloading info faster than high-speed Broadband.

‘Yes. Do you think that’s relevant?’

‘I think it may be,’ said Stevie, and picked up the phone.

An hour and a half later, Stevie had just got out of Matthew’s car and was walking across the forecourt to the
entrance of ‘Doyle International Foods’ by the Leeds canal. It was a hip, buzzing, colourful place, full of vitality and people who looked happy enough to be working there. She booked herself in at Reception, under the name Ms B. Pollen, her business with the Head of Personnel being research for her latest book. She had told Colin’s secretary on the phone that she only wanted five minutes of his time, and the secretary, who was an avid
Midnight Moon
fan, had pushed her in a free eleven o’clock slot, on the proviso that she would autograph her copy of
Golden Bride
.

The secretary collected her from Reception and was twitteringly delighted to meet her in the flesh. After Stevie had autographed the well-thumbed book, she was shown through to Colin Seed’s huge corner office, overlooking the canal. It was a very neat, modest office; the office of a man who obviously liked straight lines and things ordered and above board. Minutes later, when Colin Seed walked in, Stevie caught an imaginary whiff of mothballs. It was a shame really, because he wasn’t a bad-looking man at all. The love of a good, caring woman could easily have transformed him.

‘Ms Pollen,’ said Colin, with a strong handshake but a surprisingly warm smile too that knocked a good fifteen years off his age. He gestured to Stevie to sit down. ‘How can I help you? I’m very intrigued.’ He did not say that his recently deceased mum used to read
Midnight Moon
books, and that the last one she had read was by Beatrice Pollen. That alone had won her court with him today.

‘Mr Seed,’ began Stevie, tremulously because Colin had a strong persona and she felt way out of her depth here. ‘I
confess, I’m here under false pretences. Yes, I
am
Beatrice Pollen, but I’m not here about any research. Please forgive my duplicity. I’m here about,’ Stevie gulped, ‘Matthew Finch.’

Stevie watched Colin Seed’s welcoming smile elope with the warmth in his eyes, and his Adam’s apple jump up and down like a fairground test-your-strength machine. However, he surprised her by saying, ‘Go on.’

‘I’m Matthew’s ex-partner. I understand he’s been sacked for harassing an ex-friend of mine,’ the name stuck in her craw, ‘Joanna MacLean.’

‘Amongst other things, yes, that is correct,’ Colin answered, stiffening before her eyes.

‘I’m here on my own volition, after I heard the news. Matthew is not a sexual predator. Jo MacLean, however, is an incredibly devious wom—’

‘Thank you, Ms Pollen, but I really do not think this is a matter for discussion with an outside body.’ Colin rose, preparing to show Stevie out, but Stevie stood her ground, or rather sat it, and continued to speak. She felt sure now that Colin Seed was personally, as well as professionally involved with Jo MacLean.

‘Please hear me out, Mr Seed, then I will go quietly, but there is too much at stake here for me to leave before I have said what I came here to say. I happen to know Jo MacLean’s ex-partner very well too, a lovely, respectable, gentle man–a Mr Adam MacLean–the local Father Christmas for the hospital. He first met her in a car park, crying that she was in a violent relationship…’

‘Ms Pollen…’

‘…and though not “rich” rich, he’s comfortably well off. Then Matthew, Head of Concessions, high-flyer here caught her eye and she was led, I think, to believe that he was quite rich. Surprise, surprise, when did he first start talking to her? In the car park here, crying that she was in a violent relationship and needed to get away. Funnily enough, that relationship started to sour round about the time that she discovered he made church mice look like members of the Getty family. That, for your information, was very recently.’

Colin looked as if he was going to interrupt again, but stayed silent.

‘Then suddenly, Matthew is accused of being violent and predatory, and loses his job. Now, I was very hurt when he left me, so much so that I could have let him rot in this mess, but I can’t stand back and watch someone’s life be destroyed by malicious lies. Matthew Finch might be guilty of many things, but I’d stake my life on it that sexual violence wouldn’t
ever
be one of them.’

Colin Seed was processing the information. He was using his professionally trained brain to study body language and voice inflections, sifting for lies and truths.

‘One more thing, Mr Seed,’ said Stevie with an air of innocence. ‘I’d deduce from Jo MacLean’s modus operandi that she has probably found a new partner. A sitting target with a nice house and plenty of money. Someone who happens to meet a crying Jo MacLean in a car park with a heart full of sob stories about her violent ex. She’ll probably show them a supposed boot mark on her left thigh that Matthew did. In the same way that she showed it to
Matthew and told him Adam did it, and in the same way she showed it to Adam and attributed it to the violence of the ex before that.’

Stevie had only guessed that Jo would have done that to Colin, but from his small cough, she knew she had guessed right. Colin seemed to pale before her very eyes. She felt quite guilty that she was the one to bear the news that would probably break his heart.

‘I understand you’ve had a recent loss,’ said Stevie tentatively.

‘Ms Poll…I don’t see…’

‘Sometimes when we’re in pain, we’ll snatch at anything that promises to stop it. Hope makes us see what we want to see.’

‘I really must end…’

‘All I’m saying is that if something appears too good to be true, it’s probably because it is.’

Colin Seed gulped. That was one of his mother’s sayings and as such, it resonated loudly within him.

‘I won’t take up any more of your time, Mr Seed. I thank you for agreeing to meet me. Please think about what I’ve said,’ and with a gentle, caring smile, Stevie added, ‘And good luck.’

There was a nerve ticking in Colin’s neck, Stevie noticed. He nodded goodbye as if his throat was constricted and held his hand out towards her. Stevie shook that hand, warmly with both of hers, and then she left and closed the door quietly behind her.

As she walked out of the building via the revolving door, Jo MacLean came in from the opposite side. As if in slow
motion, they turned to stare at each other. For once, Jo’s eyes had none of that victorious haughtiness in them. Stevie’s cocksure presence in her workplace unsettled her greatly. She hadn’t bargained on Matthew finding a champion after her claims, because no one wanted to stick up for a sex beast. Least of all a disgruntled ex!

Stevie fought down the impulse to double-back, grab the bitch by the hair and proclaim it to the busy atrium of people just what a life-wrecker Miss Gorgeous Body really was, but instead, she held onto her dignity, turned her head away and walked out into the fresh air of the day. Let someone else clear up the rest of this mess now; she was done with it.

Outside, sitting in his car, Matthew watched Jo MacLean strut towards the offices like an arrogant peacock. He almost didn’t recognize her, for there was little resemblance to the soft and fragile woman he had met that day in the car park. She looked cold and proud and hard. He didn’t even think her very beautiful any more; she was a stranger to him. Then, seconds later, he saw the familiar unchanging form of Stevie emerge from the building and he automatically smiled. The sunlight had lodged in her hair and she looked like an angel coming towards the car. That’s what Stevie was, an angel. A lovely, sweet, golden-hearted angel.

He drove home, unable to stop beaming gratefully over at Stevie and saying that he couldn’t thank her enough. Stevie nodded, but didn’t say much. She just wanted Matthew to stick his foot down and for her to be home. With Adam.

When she got to Humbleby Cottage, Adam was gone, and so were his clothes. There was a note on the table that said
Dear Stevie, We both need some time to think. I will be in touch. Love to Danny, goodbye–Adam
.

Her eyes bloomed with tears, as once again she thought, How final goodbye sounds.