No-One Ever Has Sex On A Tuesday: A Very Funny Romantic Novel (12 page)

“Go on. Just a quick one for the boys Matthew. Are you a man or a machine? I’ll never let you live it down if you don’t,” continued Ian.

“Oh for goodness’ sake,” said Matthew as he got up and strode over to the figure. “I’m doing it OK? Satisfied now?” he barked down the phone as he cupped the left breast with his right hand.

“Oh totally and utterly,” purred a voice from the doorway.

“Shit,” exclaimed Matthew, throwing his phone on the floor and pulling his hand away at lightning speed.

“Don’t you think it’s just marvellous,” continued the perfectly posed man, one hand on thrust out hip whilst the other leaned against the door frame. “And to have such a fine specimen as yourself truly appreciate my handiwork is such a complement. I’m Daniel by the way. Creative genius behind the object of your admiration.”

“Hi. I’m Matthew. I’m so sorry, I was just er…”

“Matthew you say?” asked Daniel.

“Yes Matthew. I’m just waiting for Katy.”

“I see,” said Daniel, not hiding the fact that he was giving Matthew a good look up and down. “I’m impressed,” he said finally. “She never said you were so handsome.”

There was an awkward silence only interrupted by the sound of Ian squeaking from the phone lying somewhere on the floor.

“The brand manager for Crispy Bix is a complete and utter bitch,” said Katy as she swept past Daniel into her office.

She stopped in her tracks at the sight of Matthew still hovering next to her naked body.

“Matthew, what the hell are you doing here?” she said glancing nervously between him, Daniel and the plaster cast.

“He was just admiring your baby shower present,” said Daniel with a smug smile. “You see some people appreciate true art Katy.”

“No really, I wasn’t doing anything,” said Matthew. “I was just seeing what it was made of. Such an interesting texture. Yes, really interesting. You must tell me how you did it Daniel?”

“Actually he was touching your breasts,” Daniel told Katy. “As if that didn’t get him in enough trouble last time.”

“Daniel,” exclaimed Katy.

“So must dash. I have other meetings to gatecrash,” said Daniel. “I shall speak to you later,” he said pointedly at Katy as he left.

Katy shut the door firmly behind him.

“My God, why on earth did you have to tell him?” asked Matthew, making his getaway from the proximity of the plaster cast and picking up his now silent phone.

“Well I had to talk to someone and despite appearances I know can trust him.”

“Really? Looked like your typical bitchy, gossipy gay guy to me,” said Matthew as he perched on the edge of the desk, causing the puffin to wobble alarmingly.

“Be careful of Gloria,” said Katy, leaping over to steady the bird.

“Gloria? It has a name? Why exactly have you got a stuffed puffin in your office Katy?”

“We stole her last night.”

“Who did?”

“Me and Ben and a couple of his mates.”

Matthew stared at her, saying nothing.

“What? What’s the matter?” asked Katy.

Matthew found he couldn’t get any words out.

“Matthew, why are you standing there with a disappointed look on your face?” Katy asked eventually whilst eyeing a copy of Gina Ford falling out of his briefcase.

Matthew hastily stuffed
The Contented Little Baby Book
back in his bag.

“Alison gave it to me this morning and told me to memorise the 0-6 weeks routine over my lunch hour,” explained Matthew.

“How super,” said Katy. “Very sensible of course. But please can you wipe that disappointed look off your face.”

“I’m not disappointed in you,” said Matthew, turning away from her. “I’m actually disappointed that in no part of my life would I ever get caught up in stealing a stuffed puffin.”

Katy looked confused.

He spun back round to look at her. “I would have stolen a stuffed puffin though, wouldn’t I? When I was younger I mean? I was fun then wasn’t I?” he asked with a slightly desperate tone in his voice.

“I don’t think you should be judging your life by your ability to steal a stuffed puffin,” said Katy, clearly at a loss at Matthew’s distress.

“It’s just that I go to work and talk about stupid bloody tax all day and I come home and talk about baby routines and whether we should be bathing at 5.45pm or 6pm and other bullshit like that,” he said, kicking the side of his briefcase where the baby boot camp bible lurked.

He was quiet for a moment, lost in thought. Katy fidgeted with her post-it notes.

“And I don’t even have a plant in my office never mind a stuffed puffin or a cast of my naked body or a picture of Patrick Swayze,” said Matthew, pointing at the faded poster.

“Well I will always love Patrick Swayze,’” said Katy quietly.

“I know you will,” said Matthew, banging the desk with his hand making Katy and Gloria jump. “I’ve been sitting here thinking about us driving down to Devon and you making me listen to that bloody Dirty Dancing tape the whole way.”

“I didn’t make you. You were singing your head off,” said Katy.

“I know I was, and that’s just it Katy. I never sing anymore. What’s happened to me?” Matthew slumped in the chair. He was starting to think MATTHEW’S PLAN had some serious omissions.

“So sing now,” said Katy.

“What?”

“Sing now.”

“Don’t be ridiculous.”

“Oh for goodness’ sake, Matthew. You complain about never singing anymore and now you won’t. Come on, we’ll do it together.”

Katy stood up and cleared her throat. Thrusting her bump out proudly she began a shockingly bad attempt at the opening bars of
I’ve Had the Time of My Life
.

Suddenly he was back in his dad’s Rover; windows wound right down, wind in his hair, music blaring and one hand on Katy’s bare knee as she sang at the top of her voice.

He found himself laughing at Katy as she got more confident in her memory of the lyrics and began to sway a little as she built up to the chorus.

“Come on then. Join in. Don’t be shy,” she gasped between lines.

Matthew started to mumble the lines he couldn’t believe he could still remember. At the end of the chorus Katy fell back in her chair laughing.

“You’re still crap at singing,” she said. “Good job you don’t do it anymore. So anyway what do we do about this dinner date then? I assume that’s why you’re here?” Katy asked, looking at her watch.

“What? Oh yeah, of course. That’s what I came to talk about,” said Matthew, trying to get his mind back on track. “So I know this is going to sound really strange, but the thing is Alison is really excited about it. She got home last night and was straight into Gordon Ramsay and has the whole menu planned already. It’s the most cheerful I’ve seen her since we moved here. And there is no way she’ll let you get out of it. Believe me, once Alison has the bit between her teeth there’s no stopping her. I know the whole situation has disaster written all over it but do you think we could go ahead. Life’s so much better when she’s cheerful.”

“God Matthew, we’re really pushing our luck here you know.”

“I know, but if it makes her feel like she’s settling in she might relax a bit which would be such a relief. I know this is a crazy situation and I can’t believe I’m asking, but please come. I dread to think what she’ll be like if you call with an excuse.”

“You do realise, we can’t be friends,” Katy said slowly.

“I know, but this might just be the thing to inspire her into making an effort to make some other friends rather than obsessing about the babies. Though not with you of course. Please come round just this once and then I promise you we’ll never…” Matthew trailed off.

He got up and walked around her desk towards her.

“What are you doing?” she asked as he got closer.

“Is that the baby?” he said as he went past her and peered at the scan photo she had pinned to the notice board behind her desk.

He couldn’t stop his fingers from reaching up to touch the image. He traced the shape of the baby just as he had done with the twin’s picture. He felt the world stopping or at the very least slowing down.

Katy stared at him in horror.

“Yes it is,” she said quietly.

He swallowed. Then turned to look deep into her eyes before muttering, “I’ll go now. See you on Saturday.”

He scurried back round the desk, picked up his briefcase and walked out of her office without looking back.

Chapter 12

The morning of the dinner party dawned and Katy decided that rather than spend the day fretting she should finally get round to buying some baby gear. To her surprise Ben reacted with a degree of enthusiasm, so armed with a list from Louise who couldn’t believe Katy’s lack of preparation, they set off to the out-of-town baby-store.

“Brilliant, there’s a Currys,” said Ben as soon as they got out of the car. “I need camera batteries so I can get some embarrassing pictures on the stag-do. I’ll just pop in now love. Won’t be long, you just carry on.”

He was gone before she could protest and walking far too fast for her pregnant body to catch up with him. Sighing she turned to contemplate the enormous baby store, remembering previous unnerving visits to buy gifts for other people’s babies. The sight of so many pregnant women in one place always disturbed her. She felt as though she had landed on a different planet where all women had to be pregnant all the time. She shivered at the thought before forcing herself to go in and get on with it.

She’d start with clothes she thought. She was good at buying clothes. She had been doing it practically all her life. All confidence however vanished when faced with her first difficult decision. What size? Newborn or 0-3 months? What was that all about? Surely they were the same? What was the difference? Why didn’t she know about this? Was it a conspiracy to confuse her? She looked up in a panic only to see lots of other mums-to-be effortlessly gliding around her looking totally in the know. She hastily stuffed half a dozen of each into her trolley before deciding to move onto something less stressful.

She consulted the list. Monitors. That had to be easy. She took a deep breath and attempted her own calm glide off to the safety section.

Is somebody having a laugh? she thought as she looked in a daze at the row upon row of listening devices blinking at her like evil little aliens. The level of equipment required made her think the baby must at least be expected to do a complete Beatles medley before it went to sleep. She reached out a now slightly shaking hand and took one off the middle shelf and attempted to read the sales blurb. But it might as well have been written in Dutch for all the sense it made. She flung it into the trolley before stalking back to the relative sanctuary of the clothing section.

After an hour and ten minutes she was utterly confused, distraught, angry and a bit sweaty. She looked up from the Templeton Deluxe Pushchair Travel System which she had been in mortal combat with for the last twenty minutes and hoped no-one saw her give it a good kick. The shop assistant had made it all look so easy when, with a flick of the wrist, she had morphed it from what appeared to be a complete tangle of silver chrome and flappy black canvas into a robust, if complicated-looking, baby carriage.

“What about this one?” said the assistant appearing again and pointing at another pram that looked like Tupperware on wheels. “This one is really simple to use, especially if you haven’t got a man who can get it in and out of the car for you.”

Katy stood with her mouth open. How dare she assume she was a single mum. Ben would be here any minute, she said to herself again, looking desperately towards the door for the umpteenth time.

She sat down on the edge of the display to try and pull herself together and watched in a haze as a smartly-dressed couple wandered over to look at the pushchairs.

“I can’t believe that twenty minutes ago we were at the garage selling your convertible and now we’re in here buying a pram,” said the heavily pregnant woman. “Life’s never going to be the same again is it?” she continued, looking almost as shaken as Katy felt.

“You’re right,” replied the man, putting an arm around her shoulders. “But I wouldn’t trade with anyone in the world right now. And do you know what? I loved that car, you know I did, but I bet you I am going to love our new pram a million times more, especially when it’s got our little princess in it?”

Katy watched, mesmerized, as they both turned to face each other, huge smiles on their faces. Then they kissed, quite passionately, for the middle of a Saturday afternoon in an out-of-town store. When they had finished the man reached inside his jacket and pulled out several sheets of paper.

“So,” he said. “I printed all this stuff off the internet last night, after you’d gone to bed to help us make a decision. Now the best one this website said is that one over there…”

Katy turned away. She couldn’t bear to watch the perfect partnership anymore. She looked again towards the door. Still no sign of Ben.

She hauled herself up and trudged to the check-out gulping back the tears which had suddenly threatened to engulf her. In the middle of her purchases being scanned and packed the sales assistant leant over and gave her a tissue.

“Hormones,” she said kindly. “Happens all the time.”

Absolutely mortified she hurled the bags into her trolley as fast as she could and virtually ran out of the store as if the building was on fire.

“Bloody hell, are there wild tigers in there or something?” she heard Ben say, just as she was careering through the automatic doors.

“Where the hell have you been?” she managed to splutter before bursting into floods of tears whilst trying not to hyperventilate.

“Hey, it’s OK, calm down. Did the other pregnant ladies not play nicely?” he said grinning.

“Stop,” she shouted. “Just stop,” she repeated angrily, looking up at him, bright red in the face. He stared back at her in shock. They didn’t do angry with each other. “I don’t need you to do funny OK? Just stop doing funny.”

“OK,” he replied, the grin wiped off his face. “So what do you need?” he asked slowly.

“I don’t know,” she said desperately. “Just not funny OK. I need ….I need …I need you to just be there sometimes. You know like when I’m going through hell trying to make a stupid pram stand upright,” she whimpered, staring at the floor.