Love-40 (14 page)

Oh yeah? Suzi stood up straighter. The hand holding the telephone receiver to her ear was stiff with dutch courage. ‘I'm sorry,' she said. ‘I've had second thoughts.'

There was a pause. She wondered what he was thinking. Did he suspect that she was on to him, that she'd realised he was chummy with Stan or Terry or both, that she was feeling a complete and utter idiot for opening up and telling him what a financial mess they'd got into at Secrets In The Attic? He was a competitor, for heaven's sake. And in cahoots with their other competition. He was a low-down rat. He was worse.

‘Prices too low, were they?' he asked at last. ‘I couldn't go much higher.'

‘It's not that,' Suzi said quickly. She didn't want to enter into negotiations with him. Next thing, he'd be standing here on the threshold again and she didn't want that, didn't want to see him. She felt too much of a fool. The trouble was, that somehow the man had got to her.

‘What then?'

‘Well…' What was the matter with him? Couldn't he take no for an answer? Why didn't he give up now that he'd been sussed? She glanced across at Estelle and shuffled some papers from one side of the desk to the other. ‘I've discussed this with my business partner,' she said.

Estelle looked up. ‘Discussed what?'

‘And?' asked Josh.

‘And she doesn't want to sell the stuff,' Suzi said helplessly.

Josh Willis laughed, a big growl-laugh that rumbled along the telephone line and made Suzi feel more of a fool than ever. ‘You're telling me it's got nothing to do with the prices I offered? But that your partner doesn't want to sell the stock you've got in the shop?' he said.

‘Er, well, yes.' Suzi tried to sound forthright instead of mad.

‘If that's the way you do business, it's no wonder you've got problems,' he said.

So typical of his gender, Suzi thought. Ready to criticise at the slightest opportunity. ‘Any temporary problems we may be experiencing have nothing to do with you,' she snapped. Only, why was he making her talk to him like this? Why wouldn't he just go away and leave her to feel guilty alone?

Another pause. ‘So I take it you'd rather I didn't visit you again?'

Suzi felt completely put on the spot. Of course she'd rather he didn't visit her again. How could she face him? She thought of the red beard, the bulky body, the grey-green eyes and cat's grin. She didn't want to be confronted by him. And yet … And yet …

‘I really can't see the point,' she said.

‘In that case,' he growled, with no hint of humour in his voice, ‘neither can I.'

*   *   *

‘Hold her,' Liam ordered Bradley. ‘Hold her as if she's flesh and blood, not Dresden china.'

‘You said, no snogging,' protested Jade as Bradley moved in.

‘I'm not talking snogging, I'm talking close contact.' In despair, Liam pushed Bradley out of the way and took Jade into his arms. As he did so, he was aware of a creak indicative of the hall's swing door being pushed open. He relinquished Juliet and her cheap perfume.

‘You are Romeo and Juliet,' he told them both. ‘You're madly in love. Head over heels, truly, deeply, more in love than any other couple have ever been in the history of the world. Got it? You die for the love of one another. You're a frigging role model for the love stuff. If you can't pretend, we'll have to forget the whole thing.' His voice rang out and echoed round the school hall.

‘Hi, Mum,' Jade said to the woman who had come in.

Liam turned to face her. Her hair was the same colour as her daughter's and equally unnatural, she was tall and had muscular well-toned legs and a figure she was not trying to hide. She looked very out of place in the school hall with its dark laminated floor, fluorescent lighting and magnolia walls decorated with child-art. Liam was just thinking that she seemed vaguely familiar and not just as the mirage that Jade would become in thirty years' time, when he realised who was now standing just behind her.

‘Amanda?' He blinked.

She waggled her fingers, put them to her lips and indicated that she would wait at the back of the hall.

Bloody hell, thought Liam.

‘I hope,' said Jade's mother, with a wiggle of the shoulders, ‘that there won't be
too
much
close
contact.' She looked Liam up and down, and he was sure he could make out a suggestive glint in her eyes. ‘If you know what I mean.' She winked. ‘Jade's a big girl. But she's not even twelve yet, you know.'

‘I know,' Liam said crisply. ‘And I can assure you, Mrs Johnson, that you need have no concerns on that score.' What he did not need were accusations of sexual harrassment, or of encouraging tweenage boy/girl intimacy, come to that. They could manage that kind of thing without him. And he didn't need Amanda witnessing this sort of scene either. ‘That's enough for today.' He clapped his hands in dismissal. ‘See you all Tuesday after school.'

Liam waved away interruptions of, ‘She sticks her bloody elbows into me, sir. When I try and get in close, I mean.' (Bradley). And, ‘I could do it better, sir.' (Crystal). ‘I like Bradley…' (at which point Bradley made a puking action behind her back). ‘I started ballet when I was three and my mum says –'

‘Tuesday,' Liam said firmly. ‘And thank you all.'

As they began to disperse, he approached Amanda, who was smiling, her eyes wide and excited. ‘Golly, a real rehearsal. With
lots
of drama too!'

‘Drama I could live without.' Liam kissed the cool cheek she offered him, conscious at the same time of the rumours of approaching wedlock that would be circulating Chestnut Grove Middle School by lunchtime tomorrow.

‘But the show must go on,' Amanda said obscurely. ‘And it looked terribly exciting.' She was dressed in an almond-green suit, the skirt of which hovered just above her bare knees. It looked classy and expensive. She looked classy and expensive.

‘What are you doing here anyway?' he asked her, aware how oafish that sounded.

‘You didn't call me.' She pouted prettily. ‘So I came to
you.'

What for, he wondered. What would a girl like Amanda want with a man like him, a poor – and oafish – hung-over teacher (he'd been drinking too much since Estelle left) whose time was so taken up with coaxing the kids of the youth club into tennis and the school's year 7s into Shakespeare that he had no time left for Amanda. Or Estelle, he thought sadly.

‘You did offer me a drink.' Amanda moved one step closer. ‘So I thought, how about tonight?'

Liam smelt again that exclusive perfume, quite a contrast to Jade Johnson's. They should ban scent like Amanda's, he thought. Who needed aphrodisiac in a bottle when you were looking at Amanda Lake? ‘Sure.' Liam was expansive, though he was so knackered, he'd rather get his head down – alone – in his garret flat. Things must be bad.

He was distracted by the approach of Jade's mother. All bony shoulders and tits, he found himself thinking.

‘Call me Lorraine.' She thrust long, painted fingernails towards him. ‘And if you need any help with…' She floundered.

‘The set?' suggested Amanda.

‘Yeah, the set. Or…'

‘The lighting?'

‘Yeah, or…'

‘The costumes?'

Liam took the hand she was offering him, and the opportunity to pull her away from Amanda and her not so helpful comments. ‘Thanks. I'll let you know,' he said.

‘Good.' She looked him up and down once more. ‘I like a man who knows what he wants.'

Was he one of those? He doubted it.

‘But don't you let them boys get too close,' Lorraine reminded him as she ushered Jade out of the hall. ‘She's only eleven, remember.'

How could he forget? Ye Gods. Liam thrust a hand through his hair. Where was Estelle when he needed protection?

‘Isn't it wonderful how your life can change when you're free?' Amanda took his arm.

‘Wonderful,' echoed Liam.

‘Poor darling. She's after you, and who could blame her?' Amanda chuckled.

Liam frowned at her. ‘I'm sure she's not. She's probably happily married and –'

‘A compulsive man-hunter,' Amanda said. ‘I know the type. But let's not talk about her.'

Fine by him. Liam watched the kids gradually dispersing from the hall and into the narrow corridor beyond. ‘Why did you come here – really?' he asked her.

‘Among other reasons…' A seductive smile. ‘I wanted to know…' She led him gently back towards the stage. ‘If you're umpiring for the under-9s tournament next weekend?'

Next weekend? Liam did some rapid calculations. What with the play and the tennis coaching on top of his other commitments, he was in danger of getting seriously overbooked. But he had promised … ‘Yep,' he told her. ‘Unfortunately.' The under-9s were the worst. He waved off the final stragglers, checked no one was left behind.

‘So am I,' said Amanda, as together, they left the hall.

‘Good.' Liam leaned back to switch off the lights. The only problem was that so, God damn it, was Estelle.

*   *   *

‘Who was that?' Estelle demanded.

‘Hmmm?'

‘On the phone.'

Should she lie? Suzi decided not to bother. ‘A dealer.' But she didn't mention she'd as good as promised to sell half their stock to him, didn't add how much she'd liked him. ‘Not to be trusted,' she added, to convince herself.

‘Men…' Estelle rolled her eyes.

Suzi grabbed the chance. ‘And talking of men –'

‘No.' Estelle smoothed a lock of dark red hair away from her face. ‘I don't want to talk about Liam, Suzi, I really don't.'

Suzi wasn't going to let that stop her. She was fed up with both of them mooning around missing one another like two separate halves of the same circle. The trouble was that she loved them both. And it might sound ridiculous, but there was something wrong with her world when these two were apart. ‘But you still care,' she reminded Estelle. ‘You should talk to each other at least.'

‘There's no point.'

Suzi sighed. Liam had his faults but he was hardly an out and out bastard. Or low-down hypocrite … like Josh Willis, for example.

‘And a relationship needs more than two people caring,' Estelle added. She was sitting, head bent, cleaning some jewellery. ‘It needs to be worked at, it needs to be cherished. Otherwise…' she squeezed more metal polish on to her cloth ‘… it withers and dies.'

Suzi thought of Michael. Had their relationship withered and died? Could it be revived with a dose of Grow-more and a snippet of mutual affection? She flipped open the till and began to count the takings. It didn't take long. And what happened when a relationship became suffocating, she found herself wondering. When there was no sunlight, no water? What happened when a pleasant Friday-night change of routine became an everyday thing? And you didn't like it, didn't want it, needed your me-time back?

Suzi shut the till again. It wasn't Michael's fault, and perhaps that was why it was so hard to remind him that theirs was supposed to be a temporary live-in arrangement. It would be like kicking out Samson or Delilah, she thought. Or Hester. She smiled as she recalled the expression on Michael's face that evening – when he'd finally got Hester back to the cottage, when he got up from the lawn where she'd head-butted him. Poor Michael. She'd had to stop herself from rushing out there to comfort him; she'd realised somehow that loss of face would be the worst injury Michael could suffer right now.

‘Forget about me and Liam.' Estelle jumped up from her seat, red hair flying, as Suzi realised guiltily that she already had. ‘And listen to my great idea.'

‘Mmm?' Suzi wondered when Estelle would realise that she was the only one getting great ideas. That Suzi's plans (like the one concerning Josh Willis for example) had a habit of ending in disaster.

‘How d'you fancy specialising in jewellery – antique and modern? Repairs, old and new, the whole bit?' Estelle paced the floor, expanding on her theme, showing Suzi first a garnet bracelet (‘an antique any woman would want in her collection') then a modern jade and platinum choker (‘they're both compatible with today's woman, today's lifestyle, don't you think?').

‘Mmm.' Suzi was only half-listening, the other half still mulling it all around – Josh, Michael, Liam and Estelle.

‘It makes sense, Suzi.'

‘Hmm.' Talking of sense, she was a fine one to talk. Getting drunk and painting the shop sunflower-yellow were hardly the actions of a rational woman.

What Estelle needed … no, what Liam and Estelle needed, was a helping hand – her hand, Suzi decided. She simply had to get them in the same place at the same time. Should be easy enough.

She nodded as Estelle shoved a casket of ear-rings into her lap and continued to drone on. ‘Mmm,' she said.

A concert perhaps? The music would stop them talking for long enough to avoid the risk of another row, long enough surely for the chemistry to kick in. ‘Yes,' she said.

‘You like the idea?'

Well, anything was worth a try, Suzi thought. ‘It's brilliant. You're brilliant.' And as for Suzi, she might mess up big time in the men department, but she could still be a matchmaker made in heaven, she decided.

*   *   *

Estelle hadn't meant to go to the garret flat after work, but something Suzi had said, had made her think.
You should still talk to each other at least.
Suzi was right, of course. It was childish not to talk, not to let the man you had loved for so many years know what you were thinking, feeling.

She walked out of the shop, registered the presence of her Mini Mayfair, did a double-take and then swore softly. The car had a flat, front nearside.