Gucci Gucci Coo (29 page)

“Blimey, you gave me a bleedin’ fright. Who are you? What do you want?”

Ruby opened one eye and then another. The hammer was now down by the man’s side.

“I might ask you the same question,” she said.

“I’m the electrician. Bloke who owns this place got me in to fix some dodgy wiring before the new tenant comes in.” She was pretty sure he was telling the truth because he had one of those tool belts round his waist.

“Sorry,” she said, voice trembling. “I did ring the bell before I let myself in. Didn’t you hear me?”

He pointed to his iPod headphones, which were draped round his neck.

“My boyfriend…” she began, “well, ex-boyfriend, actually used to live here. I…er, I left some of my stuff here and I wanted to see if it was still here. Mind if I take a look round?”

“’Elp yourself,” he shrugged.

The electrician wandered off into the kitchen. A few moments later she heard him banging away with his hammer.

Ruby stood thinking. If Kristian, who owned the flat, had called in the electrician because he was about to relet it, then it probably meant that Sam had told him he was moving out. This was a good sign.

She went into the living room. The bust of Stalin and the jukebox were gone. She assumed he had either sold them or shipped them back to the States. In the bedroom, all his clothes were gone from the wardrobe. The idea of Sam having been attacked or kidnapped now seemed highly unlikely. Unless, of course, the gang had got to him while he was on his way somewhere.

She looked around the bedroom. The carpets needed a vacuum. There were cup rings on the bedside table. It was obvious that the cleaners hadn’t been in yet. Suddenly she noticed the wastepaper bin. It was full. She ran over and tipped the contents onto the carpet. In movies the detectives always found out where somebody was from evidence left in the waste bin. Usually it was a crumpled piece of paper with an address on it. Or an old notepad with the imprint of an address. She sifted through the rubbish. There was an empty toothpaste tube, a pair of socks with holes in, a few chewing gum wrappers and an old newspaper. Nothing of any consequence.

She began putting everything back. Then, as she was about to ram the newspaper into the bin, she noticed a large advertisement. One of the airlines had a deal on New Year’s flights to New York. Sam had circled it. Beside it he had written today’s date. Ruby took her mobile from her bag and phoned the contact number at the bottom of the ad. “Excuse me, I saw your ad in the
Evening Standard
. Could you tell me what time your New York flight leaves today?…No, no, it doesn’t matter that it’s fully booked, I was just curious, that’s all. Yes, I know it’s a strange thing to be curious about if I’m not planning to travel, but could you tell me anyway?”

There was a flight leaving Heathrow two hours from now. She had no idea if Sam was intending to be on it—the woman had refused to say if his name was on the passenger list—but it was the only lead she had.

She was just about to leave and was thanking the electrician for letting her look round, when another thought struck her. “God,” she said, “where’s Cat Damon?”

The electrician looked at her as if she was raving. “Er, in Hollywood, I presume.”

“No, that’s
Matt
Damon. I’m talking about
Cat
Damon. He’s a ginger tom. He lives here. At least he did.”

“There is a cat in the building. Huge shaggy thing. Can’t tell one end from the other.”

“That’s him.”

“Seems to be living with the old lady downstairs. I saw ’er this morning letting ’im in. Only she calls ’im Mister Fluffy.”

“Oh, well at least he’s gone to a good home. I was worried he’d been abandoned.”

“S
O
,
ARE YOU
thinking,” Ronnie said, starting the car engine, “that Sam decided to leave London early?”

“It would make sense. As far as he’s concerned, he and I are finished. What would be the point of hanging around? I’m surprised he stayed for Christmas.”

They headed out onto the M4. At one point Ronnie took her eyes off the road briefly and looked at Ruby. “Has it occurred to you that the real reason Sam is running back to New York is to escape being implicated in the surrogacy affair? You are forgetting that his name is still on that list you found.”

“But I’ve always thought he was set up in some way.”

“Hmm,” Ronnie said doubtfully, “just like this brother of his was
set up
.”

“You think I’m being stupid chasing after Sam, don’t you?”

“Not stupid. Just naive. You’re living in hope that this Buddy was telling the truth and that Sam will turn out to be the honest, honorable man you always hoped he was. You’ve been through one hell of a lot recently and I just don’t want you to be let down again.”

They carried on in silence. Ruby gazed out of the window. There was no way that Buddy had been lying to her. She just knew it. At one point she reached into her handbag and took out the list she had stolen from Jill McNulty. Ronnie glanced across at it. “Are you really suggesting that somebody convinced an intelligent man like Sam to sign a blank document? I find that highly unlikely, don’t you?”

“OK, I admit I don’t have the answer, but I know he wasn’t involved in the surrogacy thing. After everything else I’ve found out, I’m certain of it now.”

“I need to pee,” Ronnie said.

“Oh, God, Mum. Not now. Can’t you hold on until we get to the airport?”

“Ruby, I’ve got a baby sitting on my bladder. If I don’t pee in the next few minutes, I’m going to wet myself.”

“I’m sorry. I was being selfish. Are you feeling OK?”

“I’m fine. There’s a rest area up ahead. I’ll be literally two minutes.”

As they pulled in, it started to drizzle.

Ruby insisted on fetching Ronnie’s umbrella from the trunk. She held it over her mother as she got out of the car. As Ronnie set off toward the loo, Ruby walked back round to the passenger door. She was just about to get into the car when she saw her precious Jill McNulty list lying on the ground. It must have slipped off her lap when she got out of the car. Cursing herself, she bent down and snatched it up. It was covered in rain spots.

She was about to put it back in her bag when something—or rather a lack of something—caught her eye. Sam’s signature had quite clearly been signed in fountain pen. So, how come the ink hadn’t run in the rain?

She began rubbing at the signature with her finger. The ink didn’t budge. “That’s because it isn’t bloody ink,” she muttered to herself as a light went on. “It’s print.” Jill had clearly been busy with a scanner and photocopier. Her feelings were tumbling over themselves now. She loathed Jill McNulty and Tom Hardacre more than ever for implicating Sam in their scheme. She was elated that she now had proof that Sam hadn’t been involved in the surrogacy affair, but at the same time, she was furious with herself for doubting Sam.

The moment Ronnie got back from the loo, Ruby demonstrated her theory to her. “My God,” Ronnie said, shaking her head. “So, your instinct was right all along. Sam was never involved with the surrogacies. Come on, let’s get going. I just pray he’s at the airport, because if ever two people needed to talk, it’s you two.”

As soon as they got back onto the motorway, Ronnie hit the gas. Ruby watched the needle on the speedo pass ninety.

“Mum, I know I asked you to step on it earlier, but we do want to arrive in one piece.”

“I know, darling, but there’s another reason we need to get a move on.”

“What’s that?”

“When I went to the loo my water broke.”

“Omigod! Why on earth didn’t you say something?” Ruby insisted they get off the motorway and head back to St. Luke’s. “There’s no traffic, we can do it in forty minutes.”

Ronnie wouldn’t hear of turning back. She said that since she wasn’t getting any contractions, she would drop Ruby at the airport, leave the car in the parking lot and get a taxi back to St. Luke’s.

Ruby agreed, but only if she phoned Phil and got him to meet her at the airport. “At least then you’ll have somebody with you on the journey back.”

Ronnie dialed Phil’s mobile. As luck would have it, he was seeing a client in Hammersmith. He said the quickest thing would be for him to get the tube out to the airport.

“So long as there are no holdups,” Ronnie said, “he’ll arrive just after us.”

Ruby said she hoped Ronnie knew what she was doing. “I may not know much about childbirth,” she said, “but I know how important it is to get to the hospital once your water has broken. If you delay getting there, you risk the baby getting an infection.”

Ronnie told her to stop fussing and insisted she would be fine. She parked the car in the short-term lot at Terminal 4.

As she maneuvered to get out of the car, she stopped and inhaled sharply through her teeth.

“What is it?” Ruby said, grabbing her mother’s arm.

“Nothing. Just the baby moving. Let me sit for a moment to get my breath back.”

They sat there for maybe half a minute. “OK, I’m fine now,” Ronnie said. They got out of the car and took the lift to the departure area.

Every step Ruby took was causing her pain. As she concentrated on her own discomfort, she failed to notice the taut expression on her mother’s face. It was only when they reached the check-in area—which was pretty quiet, since the mass exodus out of the country had happened before Christmas—and Ronnie said she needed to sit down, that she noticed. “Bloody hell, Mum, you look white.”

“I’ll be fine after another rest.”

“No you won’t. You’re in labor. You know you are.”

“No I’m not. It’s probably just more of those Braxton-Hicks contractions like before.” Suddenly her hand went to her belly and her face contorted. “Ooh, that was a strong one.”

“Mum, don’t be ridiculous. These aren’t practice contractions. You are in labor. We have to get you to a hospital. I’m going to find a member of the ground staff and get them to call an ambulance.”

Ronnie nodded, but didn’t say anything because she was having what appeared to be another and even more painful contraction. “Tell them to hurry,” she gasped. “Please tell them to hurry.”

Her thoughts and feelings about Sam shoved to the back of her mind, Ruby did an Olympian limp toward the information desk. The middle-aged woman in charge told Ruby not to panic, that she would make a call and that the airport ambulance would be along in a few minutes. Ruby described where she and Ronnie would be waiting and ran back to her mother. She heard the commotion before she saw what was going on. A small crowd had gathered round Ronnie. Somebody was shouting for a doctor. “This woman’s about to give birth. Is there anybody who can help her?” Somebody else was telling Ronnie not to push. Ruby barged her way through the crowd. Ronnie was lying down on the bench, her head propped up on a pile of coats, crying out in pain and begging for somebody to help her.

“Mum, Mum, it’ll be OK. The ambulance is on its way.”

“Where the sodding hell is it? This baby’s about to be born. And where’s your father? Why isn’t he here yet?”

“Don’t worry, he’ll be here. Mum, please try to keep calm.”

Just then Ruby’s mobile went. Assuming it was her father, she didn’t bother to look at the caller display.

“Rubes, it’s me.” It was Fi. “You’ll never guess what. We’ve just had the most wonderful news. Saul’s got a job. And it isn’t just any old job. Get this, he’s got the lead in…”

“Fi, this sounds like wonderful news, but now isn’t a good time. I’m at the Terminal 4 check-in at Heathrow and Mum’s about to give birth any second.”

“What are you talking about? What are you doing at Heathrow? Is she all right?”

“Not really. Look, I have to go. I’ll phone you.”

“Did you find Sam?”

“No. Fi, I really have to go.”

As she hung up, Phil appeared. He came running over, red faced, sweating and breathless. The crowd parted like the Red Sea to let him through.

“I’ve been looking all over for you. What’s happening?”

“What does it look like?” Ronnie said. “I’m about to have a baby.”

“What? Here? You can’t. We have to get to the hospital.”

Ruby explained that it was too late. Ronnie cried out in pain as another contraction hit. Phil knelt down and took her hand. “Remember all your relaxation techniques. Come on, let’s focus on your mantra.”

“Bugger my sodding mantra.”

“OK, then just breathe with me. Hah, hah, hah, heeh, heeh, heeh.”

“I don’t want to breathe! It hurts! I want drugs! I want an epidural! Now! Please, can somebody get me a doctor?”

“I’m a doctor,” an authoritative male voice said. “Please let me through.” Ruby froze. She knew that voice. It was Sam.

“Ruby?” he said, before she’d even turned round. “What on earth is going on?”

She turned round. As her eyes met his, she was aware of the overpowering relief she was feeling at having found him—not just for Ronnie’s sake, but for her own, as well. “It’s Mum. The baby’s coming.” Sam nodded hello to Phil and crouched down beside Ronnie. “How often are the contractions coming?” Before she had a chance to reply another one came. “Aaagh. I want to push. I want to push.”

“OK, I think I have my answer.”

He took off his jacket and rolled up his shirtsleeves. Then he asked if anybody had any clean towels in their luggage. Somebody undid their suitcase, found a couple and passed them to Sam. He said that he needed to examine Ronnie. To protect her modesty he asked everybody to stand with their backs to her and form a circle around the bench. “Hang on,” Ruby whispered to Sam, tugging at his arm. “You are going to examine my mother internally?”

“I have to.”

“Oh, God! The man I’ve been dating for the last four months is about to feel my mother’s cervix. How modern is that?”

He told her she didn’t have to watch.

“OK,” he announced a few seconds later, “the head’s crowning. Try not to push. I want you to pant for me while I check the cord.”

Ronnie panted.

“Is the baby all right?” Phil said. He was white faced with fear. “Everything’s fine,” Sam reassured him. “One more push, Ronnie. When you’re ready.”

“Uuuuurgggghhhhh!”