Stockings and Cellulite (18 page)

‘How are you feeling?’

‘Better.’

‘Good.’ He leant forward and gently kissed the tip of my nose.

‘You’re a nice man,’ I mumbled. ‘Very nice actually.’

He smiled and kissed my nose again. Then my mouth.

‘You don’t have to go home you know,’ he murmured, long fingers tangling in my hair.

I drew back. ‘That’s what you said yesterday. And even though I’m sitting in your house half dressed having indecently exposed myself, I really can’t – well you know.’

‘Sure. But can we do this again? Preferably without the waspy bit?’

I grinned and nodded.

On Monday Morag, Julia and I met up for lunch. Julia had secured five potential ‘dates’ as a result of Saturday night and was cautiously excited. Morag had ticked off numerous names in a determined effort to get her money’s worth and had half a dozen names on her own list. Ivan’s name, however, had been scrawled out.

‘I thought you fancied him?’ I queried. ‘In fact, didn’t you have a date with Ivan on Saturday night?’

Morag gnashed her teeth. ‘Yes. In fact I ended up spending the entire weekend with him which was a catastrophic mistake.’

Julia and I exchanged looks.

‘What happened?’ we chorused.

‘He was like a bloody snowstorm.’

‘Terrible dandruff?’

‘No, it was more a case of wondering when he was coming, how many inches it would be and how long it would last.’

Julia and I looked appalled but Morag suddenly brightened up and fixed us with a determined smile.

‘Never mind. I’ve another eleven names to work through. Surely one of them will have a bit of mileage.’

Matt telephoned that evening asking if we could meet up at the weekend.

‘Ah, that’s a bit awkward. The twins will be with me.

‘Hey no problem. Bring them over too.’

‘Okay. Brilliant!’

And thus I discovered that there were advantages dating a man with truck loads of emotional baggage – he didn’t mind the kids coming on dates too. Although – hang on a minute – I hadn’t actually told the children I was dating. Nor was I sure I wanted to.

That evening I thumbed absent-mindedly through a furniture catalogue while cogitating how to approach the subject of Matt with Livvy and Toby. Flattened by worry and a ridiculous sense of guilt, I ended up ordering a four poster princess bed with frills and froth for Livvy and a metal bunk bed and desk combo for Toby. Would the promise of new bedroom furniture appease the children if I introduced Matt? Their birthdays were only a few weeks away. It could be part of their present.

‘Is there anything else you’d like to order Madam?’ asked the disembodied voice belonging to Customer Services.

‘Most definitely,’ I replied.

Seconds later I had ordered my longed for leather bed. I hung up and stared at my credit card. It had taken such a battering it was a wonder there weren’t any dent marks across its plastic surface.

As the weekend loomed, I still hadn’t broached the subject of Matt to the twins. Taking the bull firmly by the horns, I innocently asked the children over dinner how they would feel if I occasionally went out with a man.

‘What? You mean as in having a boyfriend?’ asked Livvy.

‘Yes, I guess so.’

‘Aren’t you a bit old to have a boyfriend?’ Toby frowned.

‘Of course I’m not too old! Boyfriends and girlfriends aren’t just for teenagers you know.’

Livvy glanced sideways at her brother. ‘Dad’s got a girlfriend.’

‘Yes but he’s a man.’

Oh joy. My son was already a male chauvinist.

‘Toby, older women are allowed to date too,’ I pointed out huffily. ‘It’s not just middle aged men who have the monopoly.’

Livvy dipped a sausage in her gravy. ‘Mm. And Dad’s a bit of a goer too. First it was Cynthia. Now it’s Charlotte. I think it’s only fair Mum should have a boyfriend too. If she can get one of course.’

Toby gave me an assessing look. ‘Yeah. You might not manage to find one very easily Mum.’ He patted my hand consolingly. ‘But I guess I don’t mind you trying.’

‘And me,’ Livvy bestowed a kindly smile in my direction. Almost as if I was being humoured.

‘Well thank you dear children for giving me your permission to date. And for your information Toby, there
is
somebody who wants to take me out, despite my being a dinosaur.’

‘Is he a dinosaur too then?’

‘Oh for heaven’s sake!’

‘Who is he?’ asked Livvy.

So I told them a little about Matt Harding. Toby listened grimly.

‘What does he do?’ he asked.

Good grief. He sounded more like a father than a son. He’d be asking me what Matt’s intentions were next.

‘He owns and runs an equestrian centre.’

Livvy’s eyes lit up. ‘Cool.’

‘In fact he owns Molly, the pony you rode at Sophia’s birthday party.’

‘Wow!’ she clapped her hands gleefully. ‘Oh
wow
!’ Does that mean I can go riding regularly? Can I Mum?’

‘Maybe.’

Later, when the twins were out of earshot, I telephoned Matt to firm up arrangements.

‘Are you sure you’re up for this get-together with my two in tow?’

‘Definitely. You mentioned that you used to ride horses and I gather Livvy enjoyed the pony party, so why don’t we do something altogether with a few gee-gees chucked into the equation?’

I was amazed. And incredibly pleased. And quite pathetically grateful actually. Ringing off I hastened to the bottom of the stairs and immediately bellowed up to the twins. Their reaction was to whoop uproariously like delinquent yobbos.

‘But listen kids,’ I warned, ‘please behave. Don’t embarrass me by squabbling and being – well you know,’ I trailed off beseechingly.

‘Don’t worry Mum. We won’t be the children from hell,’ Livvy smiled.

‘Unless of course we think Matt Harding is hell,’ muttered Toby ominously.

Saturday dawned bright and clear. When we arrived at Matt’s house he wasn’t there. Instead Joanie answered the door.

‘Dad’s at the yard. Go down, he’s expecting you,’ she smiled at the kids and Liv grinned shyly back. Toby, however, gazed dispassionately at Joanie’s good natured face before curling his lip.

‘Is she my future step-sister?’ he jerked his head at Joanie’s retreating figure behind the door.

‘Don’t be so ridiculous Toby!’ I spluttered. ‘Matt is simply a friend, okay?’ I caught his wrist and yanked him round to face me. ‘I said
okay
?’

Livvy gave her brother a push. ‘Stop being stupid Tobes. What’s the matter with you?’

Toby gave his sister a retaliatory shove just as Matt suddenly swung into my line of vision. Terrific. His first impression of us all as a family was a harassed mother refereeing two children on the verge of punching each other’s lights out. I gave them both a discreet prod in the back.

‘Pack it in
now
,’ I hissed.

Toby continued to bristle with hostility.

‘Hello all!’ Matt lifted a hand in greeting.

‘Hi!’ Livvy beamed. She didn’t give a hoot whether Matt Harding had two horns and a devil’s tail. Her expression was
lead me to your ponies
.

Toby remained chilly, his face aloof. Ooh would I have something to say to this son of mine later.

‘Ah ha ha ha,’ I laughed nervously. ‘Matt, this is Livvy and Toby.’

Toby rolled his eyes condescendingly. Oh God, I really wasn’t sure if this was such a good idea after all. But Matt was unfazed by Toby’s arctic response. He led us off towards the stables, all the while chatting about Poppy and her little filly. Within minutes Livvy was eating out of the palm of Matt’s hand. Toby remained resolutely silent, although I could see he was reluctantly interested.

We crossed to the riding school side of the yard where ponies were tethered to posts, dusty coats being vigorously groomed, while others rested between rides. The place was a hive of activity with busy stable girls mucking out, changing water buckets and stuffing hay into vast string nets.

‘There’s Molly!’ squeaked Livvy pointing to a shagpile rug with meter high ears.

Ah yes. The mule.

‘Would you like to ride her?’ asked Matt.

‘Yes please,’ Livvy dimpled. She rushed over to stroke Molly’s velvety nose and kiss the tiny star on her forehead.

Toby feigned disinterest. With an apparent air of boredom he wandered over to a pony whose stable door proclaimed the name Chester.

‘He’s a good’un,’ Matt joined Toby and patted the pony’s flecked neck. ‘Would you like me to tack him up for you?’

‘Whatever.’

I burned with embarrassment.

Unperturbed, Matt called a stable girl over to show both children how to groom and saddle up the ponies. Their attention thus diverted, Matt caught me by the hand and led me in the opposite direction.

‘I’m so sorry about Toby,’ I apologised, my voice catching. ‘I don’t know what’s got into him. He’s not usually like this. He’s a good boy really.’

We’d stopped outside a stable with a tubby grey mare inside.

‘This is Blue,’ was all Matt said. He opened the stable door and fussed over the animal like an over-protective parent, talking to her all the while as he put tack on and adjusted stirrup leathers. Eventually he turned back to me. ‘Blue’s an old timer and safe as houses to ride. She’ll look after you. That’s what Toby’s doing Cass. Looking out for his Mum. Letting me know that if there’s any nonsense then I’ve got him to deal with. One or two of my kids behaved in exactly the same way to old girlfriends. Goes with the territory eh?’

I realised with a jolt that I was not fully au fait with how the children perceived their parents pairing off with other partners. Toby didn’t seem to mind about his father having a girlfriend although Livvy had been furiously indignant about Charlotte. I wondered what thoughts ran through their minds as they juggled two parents and two separate homes with potential new partners falling into the mix? I realised some sort of talk was long overdue.

Matt led Blue out of the stable and gave me a leg up before mounting an enormous piebald the size of an elephant.

‘This is Tiny,’ he laughed as we plodded out of the yard and up the dirt track lane.

It had been a good couple of decades since I’d last sat astride a horse. As we gently hacked through woods and out the other side to winding rural lanes, the years slipped away. Leg muscles groaned but I ignored them. Blue maintained a shambling trot in order to keep up with Tiny’s long swinging gait.

Two hours later, my thigh muscles screaming with protest, we jogged back to the yard. My ability to rise to the trot had long been abandoned for ungainly bouncing.

Matt effortlessly slid off Tiny. However, Blue had a girth like a water barrel and my legs appeared to have set like concrete around her middle.

‘Don’t tell me,’ Matt teased. ‘You’ve enjoyed yourself so much you don’t want to get off.’

‘Actually, I don’t think I
can
get off. I’m not joking, I’m stuck.’

‘Let me help you.’ Matt efficiently removed my booted feet from the stirrups. ‘Lean forward – no
right
forward – over her neck.’

He pushed my stiff legs back until I was spread across Blue’s back like a rolled up carpet. Perhaps I could just fall sideways into his arms? I dropped stiffly to the ground.

‘Are you all right?’

‘Yes,’ I gasped. I was still in my riding position but minus the pony. I smiled gratefully at two stable girls who materialised from nowhere to lead Blue and Tiny away. ‘I’ll soon limber up.’

‘Okay then, what about some refreshment?’ Matt rubbed his hands together.

‘Ooh,’ I smiled through the pain. ‘That sounds wonderful.’

I waddled after Matt, discreetly tugging at the seat of my trousers which had welded to my bum.
Ouch
! It wasn’t just my lower limbs that were sore.

Just at that moment Toby came clattering into the yard with Livvy, pink cheeked and sparkly eyed and evidently in high spirits. Thank goodness his sour mood had lifted. Or had I reckoned on that too soon? As Toby locked eyes with Matt his face set in a grim mask.

‘We’re going up to the house for a sandwich,’ Matt called. ‘Want to come?’

‘No,’ Toby snapped.

Livvy shot her brother a venomous look before turning apologetically to Matt. ‘We’d love to – just as soon as we’ve helped feed the ponies.’

‘Sure. You know where to come when you’re ready.’

On the brief stroll to the house neither of us spoke. I was mortified by Toby’s insolence.

Matt inserted a key into the front door. ‘Are you sure you’re okay?’

‘Fine,’ I chirruped. Actually I was in agony.

‘Sit down,’ Matt pulled a chair out by the kitchen table.

I clomped towards it, moving from the hip like a cowboy in a Western. Positioning myself in front of the chair, I briefly hovered before collapsing backwards, legs splayed open.

Matt washed his hands and then swung into action. An enormous platter of cling-wrapped sandwiches were extracted from the fridge. Then it was off to the larder where, like a conjurer, he produced boxes of fairy cakes and Eccles buns, then back to the fridge again to haul out ice cold cans of lager.

‘Here’s to an afternoon pleasantly spent,’ he toasted and tapped his tinny against mine. I gamely clanked back.

Just at that moment the twins burst in trailing two other children, a boy of about eleven and an older girl around thirteen.

‘Hi,’ the strangers chorused as they plonked themselves down at the table, outstretched hands claiming sandwiches. I boggled at them. Were these more offspring?

‘This is Petra and Jonas,’ said Matt. ‘They have a pony of their own stabled here and argue constantly about who has first ride, so they both help out at the yard to earn extra rides on my ponies. Consequently they treat my house like a second home. But I don’t mind because their Dad happens to be my best mate.’

Petra and Jonas smiled and it became apparent that Livvy and Toby had made a couple of friends. Petra’s eyes kept darting curiously in my direction.

‘You look familiar,’ she furrowed her brow. ‘Do I know you from somewhere?’

‘I don’t think so.’

The children demolished almost all the sandwiches and fairy cakes before excitedly heading back to the yard.