The School Gates (22 page)

‘Look, I’m ill,’ Charlie said roughly. ‘I don’t know how long I’ve got. I’m writing my Will, and if I have a kid, it’s only fair they get some of my inheritance.’

He blew his nose. ‘Think about it, Joan. Please. Mo needn’t even know – but my conscience will be clear. She must have struggled with that decision back in the day, and I want to do right by her and by my son. If he really is my son, that is.’

He stood up. ‘I’ll be in touch. And Joan… obviously there will be a drink in it for you.’

With that he waddled his fat body out of the café door, leaving an open-mouthed Joan to settle the coffee bill.

Mo ran up the steps to the doctors’ surgery, noticing that her breathing was so much better now that she was walking so often. She also noticed that her clothes were beginning to feel looser. She must take a trip to the charity shop and get some new ones. Ffion had coloured, cut and blow-dried her hair the night before, so she was feeling good this morning.

‘Morning, Mo. Your hair looks great today,’ Dr Delicious offered, walking through to his treatment room.

‘Bloody good stylist she has, that’s why,’ Ffion trilled in her Welsh accent. Then she breathed to Mo: ‘He definitely fancies you.’

Mo raised her eyebrows as this standing joke.

‘This is a surgery, not the set of TOWIE, thank you, ladies.’ Grim Lynn obviously hadn’t got a shag at the weekend.

Mind you, nor had Ffion. ‘Mo. What’s going on with the Denbury Dish count? I mean, there hasn’t been a new one for quite some time.’

‘So now my Charlie is off the menu, are you not back seeing Bruno from the café then?’

‘No, he’s old news now. I think I may have to move to London – at least then I’ll get a better selection.’

Mo laughed. ‘You’re bloody hilarious, you are. Life is not all about men, young Ffion. Concentrate on getting your beauty certificate first. Then you can wax lyrical about them as much as you like, at the same time as waxing backs, sacks ‘n’ cracks.’

‘Ha, I like that, Mo. If any of the buggers annoy me I could wax their eyebrows off too. Now that’d be funny.’

Mo tutted.

‘By the way, you look gorgeous today, Mo. I can definitely notice you are losing weight.’

‘Aw, thanks, Ffi. I feel so much better too.’

‘And how’s that husband of yours been treating you?’

‘All right, actually. Now he’s off the drink he’s a different person. I’ve never known Rosie so happy.’

‘Well, that’s good. But how about you, Mo – are you happy?’

‘Oh, it’s not all about me, Ffi,’ Mo blustered.

‘Mo Collins: please don’t be so selfless. It’s a lot about you. Please tell me you will think about your own happiness too one of these days.’

Mo looked at her screen and began typing.

‘I take it you’ve had no word from Charlie either?’

Mo stopped what she was doing. ‘No, love, I will let you know if I do. But, the pattern is that he usually waits a good few months when he has done something wrong, then reappears when he needs me again. Right, we’d better get on before the grim one starts moaning again.’

‘She’s in that supplier meeting now, I think.’

‘Oh, good. Forgot she had that. I need caffeine. I’ll shoot down to Rosco’s and get us a proper coffee. What do you fancy?’

Mo had a quick look in Fishers window as she power-walked down to the café and her mouth watered at the selection of chorizo they had hanging in the window. Although her life was not perfect, she didn’t feel so bad. At least she didn’t have to deal with Ron’s violence any longer, and as she had said to Ffion, Rosie was happy – and that counted for such a lot.

She put her hand on the door to Rosco’s, and as if propelled by an electric shock, suddenly jumped back two metres. For there, sitting bold as brass drinking coffee together, were none other than her best friend and Charlie Lake.

She began to shake slightly. What on earth did they have to say to each other? It was on their doorstep so it was obviously nothing sinister, was it? OK, what should she do? She really didn’t want to speak to Charlie. No, it would be just too embarrassing a situation. Joan would obviously call her anyway, she must have just bumped into him. Yes, that was it; it must have been a chance meeting. But, what in God’s name was Charlie senior doing in Denbury?

Something didn’t feel right and she didn’t like it, she didn’t like it at all.

– Chapter Nineteen –

Alana walked into the private clinic in Thewkesbury, with its high-tech TV screens advertising the next best thing in prams and baby clothing, registered her arrival and took a seat amongst the reassuringly expensive plants and pictures. She poured herself a fresh coffee from the jug on the side and began flicking through a brand new Vogue magazine.

It was a week since she had seen Stephen. A very long seven days without any contact whatsoever. But, she knew that if there was any chance at all of him coming round to her way of thinking, she just had to let him be. She was still working, but it was no longer her priority and that suddenly felt good.

What was important, here and now, was the happiness of Eliska and this little bundle inside of her. However, Alana Murray was used to getting what she wanted – and what she wanted most of all was to be the partner of Mr Stephen McNair.

‘Alana Murray?’ A nurse smiled and ushered her through to the scan room.

‘Hi, I’m Annabel; I’ll be doing your scan today.’ The lady at the helm of the scanning equipment introduced herself.

Suddenly there was a kerfuffle at the door. The familiar Scottish accent made Alana’s heart set up a kerfuffle all of its own.

Then in he walked. All six foot four of handsome, reliable man. He put his coat calmly on the back of the door and sat in the chair that Annabel pointed out to him.

Saying nothing, he picked up Alana’s hand and kissed it. It was the sweetest kiss she had ever received in her whole life.

The gel felt cold on her stomach. She couldn’t wait to meet the new little person inside of her.

‘You wanted a 3D version too, is that right?’

‘Yes, please. How exciting is this?’

Stephen squeezed her hand and tears filled his eyes. Amongst his grief, a new life. It was ever the way of the world.

They could see the form of the baby in all its black and white glory. A blurry face, tiny little hands and skinny legs.

And then they could see the sombre face of Annabel. Hear her calling for Dr Lovitt.

They learned that the baby had died in the womb at around ten weeks. Its heart had just stopped beating. This was a relatively common occurrence and they would probably never know why. Alana would have to have a small operation to remove the foetus from her womb. She would be able to go home that evening and would need ‘a lot of love and care’.

‘Will you be here when I come out?’ Alana asked Stephen tearfully outside the operating theatre.

Unable to speak, he just nodded and kissed her forehead softly.

Dana put her shopping bags down and her key in the front door. It was Saturday and Mark had insisted she go for a facial whilst he cleaned the house. Unheard of!

She had to admit she had rather enjoyed the pampering and had been totally sold on buying all the products the salon had used on her as they had smelled just so good. Maybe she could get used to this ‘kept woman’ lifestyle after all. She just hadn’t given herself a chance. She had made a point of getting a taxi up the hill so that she didn’t have to walk past Rosco’s. The temptation to see Tony was so strong but her morals were stronger and she had to do right by Mark. He deserved more.

Mark heard the key and opened the door wide.

‘Mrs Knight, please do let me take your bags. I have run you a bubble bath and there is a glass of champagne on the side.’

‘Look at you treating me like a princess!’

‘Nothing less than you deserve, ma cherie.’

His French talk reminded her of Tony’s Italian love notes and she couldn’t decipher whether she wished she was with him or just felt plain guilty.

‘It’s awfully quiet in here – where’s Tommy?’

‘With my mum for the weekend. So it’s just me and you, kid. Now go and get in that bath so I can prepare dinner in peace.’

Dana lay in the huge bubbly bath and put the Jacuzzi jets on. She began to think of Tony – his smell, his kiss, his full-on feelings for her – and started to stroke herself. She imagined what it would be like to make love to him and realised it would most definitely be explosive. She couldn’t deny she wanted to fuck him. But maybe that was it, just a quick fuck and fumble with someone new. After a lot of years of marriage and sex with the same person, maybe that’s what everyone wanted? A no strings attached, filthy sexual encounter with someone extremely hot.

She began to finger herself slowly, then imagining doing it every which way she could with Tony, more frantically until she climaxed so hard she cried out.

‘Are you OK, darling?’ Mark called up.

‘Yes, yes, fine. I put the cold on instead of hot.’

She sank down into the warm bubbles to catch her breath. Wow, if that was the fantasy version, imagine what it would be like in real time.

She parked that thought and began to wash her hair.

‘Mr Lake?’

‘Who’s asking?’

‘Mark, Mark Knight.’

‘Oh hello, Mr Knight. I removed the device from the café as you requested last week but I’m obviously on call 24/7 if you need anything else.’

‘Thank you very much. I won’t be requiring your services further. Please email me your invoice as agreed and I will settle by return. Good evening to you.’

‘Good evening, Mr Knight.’

Mark rubbed his face and went over to the calendar on the kitchen wall. He double-checked that the big letter ‘O’ was written on today’s date and headed up to the en – suite to shower.

Dressed just in the lacy cream underwear she had bought today, Dana stuck her head forward to dry her hair. Mark came out of the shower with just a white towel around his waist and took in the beautiful figure of his young and very pretty wife.

He turned the hairdryer off at the wall.

‘Oi, you.’ Dana sat up.

‘Oi, what.’ Her now rampant husband dropped the towel to reveal a huge erection. He lifted her off the dressing-table stool and threw her on to the bed.

‘I was going to wait until after dinner to do this to you, but you look so hot I can’t wait.’

Dana laughed and looked up at Mark. He was still as toned and fit as when she had first met him, and she couldn’t deny that she did still fancy him. She was still feeling horny from her Tony masturbation session in the bath too.

It was the first time in a while that Mark ‘fucked’ Dana. The sort that you do when you first meet and want it every second, every minute, every hour. He made her reach heights she had barely reached with him before and when they had finished, she lay sweating and panting on the bed.

‘And there’s more where that came from.’ Mark kissed her on the lips. ‘Now, I shall just go and get some champagne for my little angel so she can get her breath back.’

Dana scissored her legs and arms on their huge round bed in snow-angel fashion and grinned. There was one thing that she hadn’t thought about once during that marathon sex session and this pleased her greatly. The fact that she was ovulating.

Mr Chambers was at the classroom door checking which parents had arrived for home-time when Robbie caught his eye.

‘Hey, how’s it going, Will? I’m fetching Eliska today, Alana’s not very well – she only just called me.’

‘OK, fine – and in answer to your question it’ll all be better in half an hour,’ Mr Chambers replied, nearly getting bowled over by an enthusiastic escapee.

‘Oi, what’s the rush, Joshua Pritchard?’

When Inga spotted Robbie, she hid behind Joan. He was so forthright she dreaded him mentioning anything at all about her compromising position the other night.

He saw her as he was leaving.

‘Any chance of taking Tweedledum and Tweedledee out tomorrow night? I’ve got a pleasant surprise for your boss and an empty house would be good.’

‘I’m babysitting anyway, aren’t I? So yes, let me see… maybe I could take them to PizzaExpress.’

‘I meant all night.’

‘Oh, Robbie. It’s not always that easy with kids, things take a bit of arranging.’

‘Well, try and arrange it then,’ he replied sharply. ‘How’s Barbie’s Ken doing anyway?’

‘Ssh.’ Inga was mortified.

‘Imagine if Barbie Doll were to find out – she’d be pulling her hair extensions out in anguish.’ Robbie tipped his head back with laughter.

That was it. It was all too close, too real. As much as the quickie had been amazing the other morning, it couldn’t happen again. She wanted a boyfriend, not a temporary fuck.

‘Inga, darling.’ Emily Pritchard – Scorned wife, Head of PTA, Netball Coach and Mother of Joshua P, seven, chief swot and playground kisser – was upon her. ‘You didn’t let me know if you could babysit tomorrow.’

‘Oh Emily, I am so sorry, Gordon needs me to babysit the girls, but I think I may be taking them to PizzaExpress so Joshua could come with us, if you like?’