The School Gates (10 page)

‘You’re filth, brother, you are.’

‘Oh, come on, Tone. She’s well fit. I know you would if you had the chance.’

‘She’s married, Bruno, and she has a kid – now just leave it, will you. Anyway, I thought you were shagging that pretty little Welshy from the doctors’ surgery?’

‘Yeah, but you know me, bruv, I’m a lurve machine. For some reason I want to fuck everything at the moment.’

Tony had to laugh. ‘You’re so wrong.’

‘Why, what’s he done now?’ Dana appeared tying her apron.

‘It would hurt your ears, Dana. I’m not even going there.’

As he spoke, the LWL brigade arrived. One of them clicked her fingers to get Dana’s attention. Dana chose to ignore her and went over to two decorators in their white splattered overalls instead.

‘I say!’ the plummy voice called out. ‘I do believe we were here first.’

‘Terribly sorry, I’ll be with you shortly.’ Dana smiled sweetly over. ‘Stuck-up cows,’ she mouthed to the decorators, who laughed out loud whilst taking in Dana’s pert breasts under her crisp black shirt.

‘Where are you from?’ asked the blonde leader of the LWL brigade, trying to make out Dana’s accent.

‘Lymington Avenue, up at the top of Bramwell Hill,’ Dana said innocently, knowing that would shut her up.

‘Oh, you live with a family up there, do you, dear?’

‘Yes, my husband and my son.’

She took their order and laughed to herself as they all tried to work out why on earth, if she owned a house in Lymington Avenue, she needed to be working in a café.

Between elevenses and lunch, there was a slight lull in service. Dana and Tony took their customary break in the back kitchen, whilst Bruno held the fort.

‘So, how are you enjoying working with us?’ Tony asked.

‘I simply love it. Just having the independence and more importantly my own money. I can’t tell you how happy that makes me.’

‘So are you going to tell your husband you are working here now?’

‘Not yet. It’s actually quite a thrill having this little secret.’

‘Do you have any other “little secrets” from him?’ Tony flirted.

‘No I don’t, you cheeky one.’ Dana took a mock swipe at his cheek. ‘As much as I go on about independence, I do love Mark very much; in fact, we are going to try for another baby.’

‘That’s lovely,’ Tony genuinely replied, although the

thought of trying for a baby with Dana caused his loins to stir.

‘I meant to ask you actually,’ Dana added. ‘I need to take the school holidays off. It will be too obvious to Mark and Tommy if I come in here.’

‘That’s fine. I expected that anyway,’ Tony said kindly, still trying to control his amour. ‘We may get a temp in, just so you know.’

The handsome Italian jumped up quickly, before he physically couldn’t.

‘Right, cara mia, let’s down these espressos and get back to it.’

‘Come on, Inga, let’s send Daddy a video of it from your phone.’ Lily pushed her red-framed glasses up her nose and ran round the flat excitedly.

Lola had already had to rush to the toilet as she had nearly wet herself laughing so hard.

‘I’m not sure your daddy will be too happy,’ the pretty Polish girl warned.

‘Go on, Inga, do it again. He’ll love it, I know he will,’ Lily urged.

‘Just one more time,’ Lola pleaded.

‘Oh all right then, you little monkeys.’

Inga lifted up her jumper, expertly placed the straw under her armpit, turned her head, put the other end in her mouth and blew hard. A gigantic fart noise blasted out from behind her shoulder. Minutes later, Gordon walked into the lounge to find both his daughters and Inga rolling around the floor of his flat laughing fit to burst.

‘Pray do share.’ Gordon put his rucksack down on to the armchair. It had been a tiring shift today as there had been a delay in Paris. It was such a relief for him to know that even if he was stuck somewhere, Inga would be at home and caring for the girls. His weariness waned with the elation of seeing his daughters so happy.

‘Daddy, look!’ Lily and Lola did an encore, and he too was reduced to hysterics.

‘Let me have a go.’ He grabbed a straw from the packet.

After an hour of perfecting the fart chorus of ‘Jingle Bells’ and with the girls tucked up in bed, Gordon crept down the hall into the lounge and handed Inga a glass of chilled white wine.

‘Sleeping?’ she asked quietly.

‘Like babies, bless them.’

‘They are such lovely kids, Gordon. Your sister would be so proud of you.’

‘Heh, don’t get me blubbing, you.’ Gordon lifted his glass. ‘Anyway, cheers, Inga.’

She lifted her glass. ‘Cheers.’

‘Whilst we are being sentimental,’ Gordon continued, ‘I don’t know what I would have done without you over the past few weeks. You really are a little star and the girls love you.’

‘Oh, shush. You’ve made my life so bearable. It really doesn’t feel like working, living here with you all.’

‘What? You mean I’m more easy-going than Alana Murray?’

Inga laughed. ‘Just a leetle bit. Mind you, now that I see her from a different perspective, I feel sorry for her in a funny sort of way. I think she works all the time as she is unhappy with her life.’

‘That’s the thing. People just don’t know what goes on behind closed doors, do they?’ Gordon chuckled. ‘I mean, look at us two – the rumour-mongers are going to be in overdrive, I reckon.’

‘Well let them talk, I say.’ Inga took a slurp of wine. She cosied herself against one of the big fluffy cream cushions on the sofa and told him, ‘I meant to ask you something, Gordon. Would you mind if I spent Christmas here? I haven’t really got enough money to go home this year. Be honest if you’d rather I didn’t.’

‘Don’t be silly. I’d love you to be here. It’s the first time in six years that I won’t be with Chris and it will help bridge the gap for the girls too.’

‘Have you heard from him?’ Inga asked gently.

‘Only via postcards to the girls. He’s certainly getting around a bit – he was in Sydney, last time we heard. I just hope it’s not confusing them. It’s definitely upsetting me.’

‘Darling Gordy.’ Inga went over and hugged him. ‘It won’t confuse the girls – they are used to you both being away. We shall make it the best Christmas ever for them anyway.’

‘Yes, we shall!’ Gordon said loudly draining his glass.

‘Will the rest of your family be OK with me being here?’

‘Mum is too sick to travel and the girls will head over to their late dad’s parents on Boxing Day anyway, so it’ll be fine, honestly. We shall get a big turkey and all the trimmings and we can always get the straws out again after dinner,’ Gordon grinned.

‘I’m excited already.’ Inga jumped up. ‘Right. I’d better tidy the kitchen.’

‘No, Inga. You’d better shut up and have another glass of wine.’

– Chapter Nine –

‘Why didn’t you tell me your wife was in a wheelchair?’ Alana asked Stephen as they sat in the bar of the fashionable Central London hotel.

The SM Public Relations Christmas bash was in full swing and despite it only being two in the afternoon, the decibel level of revelling staff enjoying the free-flowing booze was already high.

‘What difference does it make? I’ve still been unfaithful to her.’

‘But it somehow seems worse.’ Alana took a sip of her gin and tonic and began to question him further.

‘What is...?’

‘Multiple Sclerosis,’ Stephen anticipated. ‘Her condition has deteriorated a lot quicker than we thought.’

‘Can you still – you know, do it?’ Alana continued her interrogation.

Stating out loud that he could no longer make love to his wife cut him like a knife. ‘No, it’s impossible now,’ he said quietly. ‘But you can understand why there is no way I would ever leave her.’

‘I’ll say it again, Stephen. I’ve never asked you to. We’ve had sex twice – big deal.’

‘Quite a big deal when a product of one of those encounters is a little human being,’ Stephen shouted.

Alana drained her glass and immediately ordered another

drink. ‘Let’s move over there.’ She pointed to a table in the corner of the bar.

‘So is she mine?’ Stephen asked, once they were settled away from prying ears.

Alana shifted in her seat. ‘I don’t know.’

‘What if I asked for a DNA test?’

‘You wouldn’t,’ Alana replied cockily.

‘I don’t need to. It’s glaringly obvious: she’s got my chin, my eyes, my hair – shall I go on?’

The alcohol caused Alana to drop her defences. ‘I don’t want your money, Stephen.’

‘You don’t want anything, that’s clear – but why didn’t you just tell me? I could have helped you, emotionally if nothing else. It must have been very hard, especially with your mum deserting you.’ Stephen was angry but did his best to retain his usual composure.

Alana softened slightly. ‘Stephen, you are such a lovely man. I knew that you weren’t a philanderer. I knew that you would want to help me – but I didn’t want to break up your marriage, especially as I was the one who encouraged you to my room that night. I’m strong. I knew I could cope.’

‘Nobody’s that strong,’ Stephen said quietly, a sudden

rush of relief flowing over him now that he finally knew the truth. ‘Sometimes, I wish you’d just take a break, take some proper time off,’ he told her. ‘I can’t remember the last time you even took a week off.’

‘That really is no business of yours, Stephen,’ Alana slurred, but for once he wasn’t deterred.

‘Now that I know that her imaginary father doesn’t exist, I realise that poor Eliska hasn’t ever been on holiday, has she? ’

‘How dare you question whether my daughter has had a holiday or not,’ Alana spat.

‘Our daughter,’ Stephen said far too loudly.

Alana felt sick. Just him saying those words hit home. Eliska was their daughter. That felt too weird. It had always been just the two of them, Alana and Eliska, living side by side, muddling through. Somehow a third party didn’t seem right.

‘You can’t just waltz into Eliska’s life now,’ Alana stated.

‘Look, I’m not stupid.’ Stephen was exasperated now. ‘And I would never leave Susan – in fact, could never ever tell Susan.’ He cleared his throat. ‘It would break her heart.’

‘Anyway, we’re doing fine just the two of us. And I don’t need your input of any kind,’ Alana said angrily.

Stephen was now completely rattled. ‘Just take a look at yourself, Alana, will you? I adore you, but something’s just got to give. If there is anything I can do to make your life easier, then you must tell me.’

‘Do you know what?’ Alana said aggressively. ‘I wouldn’t come to you if you were the last man on earth.’ She threw her head back and downed her fifth gin and tonic in one.

‘That’s right.’ Stephen raised his voice again. ‘Get pissed. Go and hide. I’ve just found out you are the mother of my child and you’re running off. Don’t face the music, whatever happens: you’re good at avoiding that. In fact, why don’t you pick somebody here and go upstairs for a quickie? You’re good at that too.’

And with that Stephen got up and went over to his colleagues, leaving an open-mouthed Alana sitting on her own.

The secret was finally out and she felt scared.

Scared, and all of a sudden, very lonely.

The black London cab pulled up outside Rosco’s. Alana paid the extortionate fare that over thirty miles in a taxi brings, and headed into the café. She had to try and sober herself up. Eliska would be back from Tommy’s at around eight and she didn’t want her daughter – or Dana for that matter – to see her in this state.

‘Black coffee, please,’ she said abruptly to Bruno behind the counter, throwing off her coat on to the seat behind her. ‘Do They Know It’s Christmas’ was blaring out from the radio on the back counter.

‘We’re just about to close actually,’ Bruno said politely, taking in the smart high-cut trousers and oozing cleavage of the attractive woman in front of him.

‘Oh, just a double espresso then, please. I’ve had a hell of a day.’

‘And a hell of a skinful,’ Bruno whispered to Tony.

‘I’ve got some wine out the back if you’d prefer,’ Bruno offered, taking in the heady perfume that Alana had just sprayed on herself. She looked up at Bruno, and was quite taken aback by his dark brown eyes, stocky upper body and short dark crop of black hair. He gave her a cheeky grin.

‘Coffee? Wine? Wine? Coffee? I mean, it is Christmas, isn’t it?’

Tony shook his head in disbelief at the gall of this brother as he headed out into the freezing December evening.

‘Oh, go on then, just the one glass,’ Alana sighed, intoxication suddenly seeming the only answer.

Bruno locked the café’s bright red door, put up the Closed sign and shut down the blinds. He poured two glasses of Chianti and joined Alana at the table.

‘So why is a gorgeous woman like you having a hell of a day?’

‘It’s a long story and I don’t want to talk about it. Let’s drink.’ Alana almost downed her glass in one.