Thinking of You (17 page)

But they had, and now she wanted to make love to him again because one thing was for sure. Perry Kennedy had tipped her calm, ordered, super-efficient world off its axis and whatever else happened she knew she couldn't give him up.

 

“I'm going to be in big trouble,” said Finn as he poured red wine into three glasses. “And it's all your fault.”

It was midnight and the noisy, happy accountants had finally hokey-pokeyed their way into the string of waiting taxis. Ginny, Evie, and Finn were gathered around one of the tables having a drink to celebrate the end of a successful evening.

“You can't blame me,” Ginny protested.

“I can. You should have graciously accepted the flowers when I offered them to you.”

“You shouldn't have offered them in the first place! Damn cheek! If you took someone out to dinner, you wouldn't like it if they walked out of the restaurant and handed their plate of food over to some stranger in the street.”

“That's completely different. Catherine didn't ask me if I'd like her to send me flowers.” Finn paused. “Maybe she won't find out what happened to them.”

Ginny and Evie caught each other's eye, because only a man could think that.

“Oh, she will,” said Ginny.

“And Catherine's feelings will be very hurt,” Evie added help-fully. “She'll be furious. In fact, from now on you might want to check under your car for incendiary devices before you start the engine.”

Finn took a slug of wine. “You're a big help.”

“I could have been a big help.” Evie's eyes danced. “You see, I'm not as choosy as some people. I'll accept cast-off flowers from anyone. If you'd offered them to me I'd have taken them, then you wouldn't have been able to give them to Alex's sister.”

“Alex?” Finn frowned. “Who's
Alex
?”

“Oh sorry, silly me, that's the name of the woman in
Fatal
Attraction
. Glenn Close played her, remember? Got rejected by Michael Douglas and turned into a deranged stalker. Fancy me using that name,” Evie said cheerfully. “Slip of the tongue! I meant Catherine.”

“Thanks,” Finn said drily. “And if you'd been around when the flowers arrived, I would have offered them to you. But you weren't here, were you? You were late.”

Evie was unrepentant. “Ah, but for a very good reason. My darling daughter rang me as I was about to leave the house. She's just moved into a new flat in Salisbury and they're throwing a house-warming party tomorrow. So I'm going to be driving up there tomorrow morning!”

Ginny tried to suppress a stab of envy. Lucky Evie, off to see her daughter Philippa. She'd give anything for Jem to ring her up and say, “Hey, Mum, we're having a party, you'll come along, won't you?”

God, she'd be there in a flash, like Superman fired out of a cannon.
And
she'd provide gorgeous food and do all the washing-up afterward.

But there didn't appear to be any danger of that happening. The happy weekends she'd envisaged Jem and herself sharing in Bristol hadn't materialized and the ones here in Portsilver were woefully few and far between.

Lucky,
lucky
Evie.

“What's the flat like?” said Finn.

“Second floor, renovated Edwardian, two bedrooms. I can't wait to see it for myself. Ooh, you don't have a road atlas, do you?” Evie touched his arm. “My neighbor borrowed mine and lost it.”

“There's one lying around somewhere. No idea where.” Finn frowned. “Salisbury, would that be the A36? I can look it up on the internet if you like.”

“I know where it is.” Ginny jumped up.

“What, Salisbury?”

“Your road atlas. I saw it the other day.”

The atlas was in the second drawer down behind the bar, almost hidden beneath a pile of telephone directories. Feeling smug and efficient, Ginny produced it with a flourish, curtsied modestly, and said, “Thank you, thank you, it was nothing.”

“I love it when people do that.” Evie clapped her hands delightedly. “I'll have to bring you back to my house to find all my long-lost bits and pieces. There's a blue sandal somewhere that's been missing for years.”

“What's that?” said Finn as something slipped out from between the pages and landed face down on the floor. Ginny bent to retrieve it.

“A photograph?” Evie guessed, because it was the right shape and size.

It was a photograph. Ginny only looked at it for a split second but the image remained imprinted on her mind. She glanced over at Finn and handed it to him without a word. Evie, her eyes widening with glee, exclaimed, “Finn, is it rude? Don't tell me it's a photo of you with some scantily clad girl!”

Ginny bit her lip and turned away, because in a manner of speaking it was. In the photograph Finn was sitting on a stone wall wearing jeans and a white T-shirt. It was a sunny, breezy day and the wind had blown a lock of dark hair across his forehead. In his arms he was holding a baby with equally dark hair and eyes. The baby, clad only in a tiny pink and white sundress, was beaming at Finn. And Finn was smiling back at her with a look of such love, joy, and utter devotion on his face that anyone who saw the photograph would get a lump in their throat even if they didn't know the full story behind it.

“What
is
it? Show me,” Evie demanded, reaching for the photo in Finn's hand. Then she saw it and her expression abruptly changed. “Oh.”

An awkward silence ensued before Finn took the photograph back from Evie and put it down on the table. Turning to Ginny, he said, “You must be wondering what this is about. The baby is the daughter of an ex-girlfriend of mine. Well, ex-fiancée.”

Ginny wavered for a split second, then realized she couldn't tell him she already knew about Tamsin and Mae. Evie wasn't saying anything either; she had related the story in confidence and the chances were that Finn wouldn't take kindly to discovering he'd been gossiped about behind his back.

“Right.” She braced herself; this was the kind of lying she found hardest to pull off. Assuming her I-know-nothing expression—a tricky balance between neither too wide-eyed nor too village-idiot—Ginny nodded and said innocently, “So you were… um, engaged.”

Oh brilliant.
Mastermind
next. Then maybe a degree in astrophysics.

“I was.” Finn paused. “I also thought Mae was my daughter. But it turned out she wasn't after all.”

“Oh! How awful.” Ginny put her hand to her mouth and shook her head in dismay. Act natural,
act
natural
. “That must have been… so, um…”

He nodded. “It was. Tamsin got back together with Mae's father. They're living in London now. He's a very wealthy man.”

“Is… is he?”

“But then you already knew that.”

Whoosh
went Ginny's face, faster than a Formula One car. Struggling to look as if she didn't have a clue what he was talking about, she raised her eyebrows and said, “H-how would I know that?”

“Let me hazard a guess.” Finn glanced pointedly at Evie. “Someone told you. Because I have to say, you're the world's most hopeless liar.”

“Yes, it was me.” Evie came clean.

“Thanks a lot,” said Finn.

“She wasn't gossiping about you,” Ginny put in hastily. “She was just
explaining
. After that time I put my foot in it and said something awful about it being obvious you weren't a father. I felt terrible about that.”

“OK.” Picking up the photo once more, Finn said, “So what do I do with this now? Throw it away, I suppose.”

“You can't.” Ginny snatched it away before he could crumple it in his fist. “Not to a photograph like that.”

A flicker of something crossed his face. “But it's based on a lie.”

“You're still not throwing it away.” To lighten the mood, she said, “For one thing, it makes you look human.”

Finn said drily, “Thank you again.”

“But it's true. Promise me you won't,” said Ginny.

He rolled his eyes but put the photograph in his shirt pocket.

“Right, I'm off.” Evie drained her glass and scooped up the road atlas. “Can I take this and bring it back on Monday?”

Ginny said enviously, “Have fun tomorrow.”

“Oh, I will. I can't wait to see my baby again!” Too late, Evie realized what she'd said. “Finn, me and my big mouth. I meant Philippa. I know she's grown up but she's still my baby to me.”

In a flurry of good-byes, Evie left and Ginny finished her drink too before collecting her things together.

When Finn showed her to the door, Ginny said, “I really am sorry about tonight.”

“Not your fault.” The corners of his mouth twitched. “For once.”

“And I'm sorry about what happened with Tamsin and Mae. I can't imagine how that must have felt. You must have gone through hell.”

For a moment, Finn didn't reply. Then he nodded, his face turned away in enigmatic profile. “I'd say that pretty much covers it. Mae was the center of my world, the most important thing that had ever happened to me. One minute she was there and I would have died for her, literally. Then the next minute she's gone, and it turns out I was never even her father in the first place. She's alive but I don't suppose I'll ever see her again. And there's no reason why I should want to, but she's still the same child.” He paused again. “Just not
my
child anymore.”

It was the most unbearably sad story. The lump was back in Ginny's throat. If Finn had been anyone else she would have thrown her arms around him. Instead, clutching her car keys and handbag, she said awkwardly, “You'll meet someone else. The right person. And then you'll have a proper family of your own.”

“I thought I had a proper family last time. And look how well that turned out.” His dark eyes held hers for a second before he turned back to concentrate on the door handle. His tone dismissive, indicating that this conversation was now well and truly over, Finn said, “I'm not sure I'd want to try again.”

***

Rolling over in bed, Carla reached for her mobile and peered at the screen. If it was Ginny, she definitely wasn't answering it.

“Make it stop,” Perry groaned, burrowing under the pillows.

It was a number she didn't recognize, possibly a new client. Dredging up her efficient voice, Carla said, “Hello, Carla James.”

“Woo, you make me want to buy a
huge
conservatory. Hi, Carla, it's Jem!”

Jem. For God's sake, it was months since she'd last heard from Jem. Instinctively turning onto her side, away from Perry, Carla said, “Well, this is a surprise. Everything OK, sweetie?”

“Everything's fine. I'm just bursting with curiosity about this new chap of Mum's and she's not giving me nearly enough information. I know he's nice and she really likes him but that's all I'm getting. She just keeps saying it's early days,” Jem complained good-naturedly. “But I can't help it; I want to hear more than that. And I know you met him on Friday night so I thought, ha, I'll ring Carla and find out what he's really like.”

Carla's heart plummeted. It was Sunday morning and she was here in Perry's bed. How could she have sunk so low? What would Jem say if she told her the truth? How would Ginny, her best friend, react when she found out that—

“
Get
off
,” Carla hissed over her shoulder, covering the receiver and wriggling out of reach as Perry's hand trailed down her spine. Hot with shame, she said, “Jem, I only met him for a couple of minutes; I can't really tell you much. Like your mum says, it's not been going on long enough to get serious. I think they're just seeing each other every now and again.”

“
Noooo
.” Jem let out a wail of disappointment. “Not fair! You know what Mum's like, it's years since she's been keen on anyone,” she protested, “so of course I'm interested. This could be my new stepdad, for heaven's sake. And now you're clamming up on me too! At least tell me if he's good-looking.”

Perry overheard this. He tapped Carla on the shoulder and nodded.

“He's all right, I suppose.” Carla winced as the taps turned into jabs. “OK, he's quite good-looking. For a redhead.”

“And does he seem like a nice person?”

“I couldn't really tell. Nice enough.”

“Hopeless,” Jem scolded. “OK, if you met him at a party, would you fancy him?”

This was agonizing.

“I prefer my men younger.” Carla slithered out of reach again as Perry, outraged, seized her arm in a pincer-like grip.

“Well, we all know that. You're not fooling me, by the way.”

“What?”

“Not for a second,” said Jem.

Carla almost stopped breathing. “Meaning?”

“I'm not completely stupid.”

“Aren't you?”

“And I'm not five years old either. I know what's going on.” She couldn't know. She just couldn't.

“What's going on?” Carla was dimly aware that she sounded like a parrot.

“You're pretending you're on your own.” Jem's voice was playful. “But you aren't. You've got someone there with you.”

Oh
. “How could you tell?”

“You mean apart from me hearing you cover the receiver and tell him to get off?”

“Bit of a giveaway, I suppose,” Carla admitted.

“And I bet there's something else I know about him too.”

Carla's sigh of relief abruptly went into reverse. Sucking in air, she braced herself. “And what would that be?”

With an air of triumph, Jem said, “I bet he's a good ten years younger than mystery man Perry.”