Stockings and Cellulite (29 page)

‘Cassie? Do you agree with what I’m proposing?’

I zoomed back in on Jamie’s words and nearly fainted.

‘Proposing?’

‘It would mean a lot to me if you’d say yes.’

‘Well I – gosh. This is all very sudden Jamie. I don’t know what to say.’

‘Do you need time to think about it?’

‘Definitely.’

‘We won’t see each other tomorrow.’

‘Oh.’ Surely this was an entirely retrograde step?

‘I’ll let you sleep on the idea.’

Privately I would rather have slept with him. But of course restraint had to be the order of the day. There were the children to think about. All four of them. Constantly present. In fact, would there ever be any getting away from them?

That night, back in the apartment and tucked up – alone – in my double bed, I tried to replay Jamie’s conversation. If only I could remember the exact words of that proposal.

As I splashed cold water on my face the following morning, there was a light tap on the apartment door.

‘Hi,’ Jamie smiled. ‘Hope I’m not calling too early but I was anxious to chat to you about my proposal. Have you thought any more about it?’

‘Um, in all honesty Jamie, I can’t properly remember what you said.’

‘I was making all sorts of brash pledges about giving you space on your holiday but, in actual fact, I made promises I can’t keep.’

‘Why’s that?’ my eyebrows shot off my forehead in alarm.

‘Selfishly Cassie, I want to see you all the time. And so do Petra and Jonas – although in their case they want to see Liv and Toby all the time. So would you mind terribly if we scrapped my original proposal?’

‘Ah!’

As the dawn came up I thanked God for not letting me make a prize berk of myself. Although the idea of a wedding had rather appealed. Only last week I’d clocked a fantastic dress in Fairview, impeccably tasteful in the palest of pinks and perfect for a second time around bride.

‘Cassie?’

‘Hm?’ I dragged my thoughts back from attiring Livvy in a particularly sweet dress with sleeves puffed
just
so.

‘So do you fancy hanging out altogether around the pool this morning?’

‘Oh absolutely. Wonderful!’ I beamed.

The wedding could wait. Right now I needed to do something far more important – like making my body look ravishing in a bikini.

Half an hour later we were all gathered around a turquoise swimming pool. A mini sarong hid my bottom and dimpled thighs whilst a pair of open toed raffia wedges did their best to lengthen my legs. As the children tore down the pool’s waterslide and frolicked in the shallows, any passing bystander could have been forgiven for thinking we were husband and wife with our large brood.

After a picnic lunch we moved to the beach. The bikini top stayed firmly on, but I did eventually shed the sarong. My spirits soared when an unscheduled touching session took place between Jamie and myself, even if the reality was his hands briskly rubbing sun lotion over my reddening back.

That evening, after quick showers, we met up again, enjoyed a sardine supper and then ventured to Tivoli World, a local theme park. We rode roller coasters, spun on carousels, whirled around on the gaily lit Ferris wheel and bashed and bumped the dodgems.

‘Oh look,’ breathed Petra in excitement. ‘A haunted house!’

‘That’s one thing you are not trying out,’ Jamie said pushing a fistful of Euros into each child’s hand. ‘Go and buy popcorn and cola while Cassie and I check it out.’

‘Oh I don’t think so Jamie,’ I scoffed. ‘It will take more than a few plastic skeletons and blaring klaxon horns to terrify me.’

‘Come on,’ he grinned.

I obeyed. After all, he’d slipped his hand into mine. Suddenly I wanted to hold that hand until the end of time.

As the battered entrance door creaked theatrically back on its hinges I suppressed a snort of laughter.

‘Oooh, how horribly scary,’ I mocked peering blindly into inky blackness. ‘Any minute now a big bad wolf is going to leap out and – ARGH!’

A piercing scream set my tonsils waggling as a hooded figure materialised in the gloom. His bloodstained hands clutched an axe dripping red liquid. Unnerved I gripped Jamie’s hand tighter. We appeared to be in some sort of narrow hallway. The door behind us banged shut making me jump. Suddenly this particular haunted house didn’t seem such a joke after all.

A chainsaw roared into life causing me to scream again, but the noise was drowned out by the motor. An overhead light flickered dimly in the gloom haloing the chainsaw wielder. He crashed the throbbing machine against metal railings and a flurry of orange sparks showered the air.

Pushing forward, we entered a small chamber containing a hospital bed and a plethora of surgical machinery. An old hag lay prostrate on the mattress wired up to a respirator. It hissed and sucked with each rise and fall of her frail chest. Edging cautiously around the deathbed scene I kept my boggling eyes firmly on the witchy face. Ah yes. A plastic mannequin. And a pretty crappy one at that. The skin was so obviously synthetic and the matted grey hair framing the waxy features nothing more than a cheap nylon wig. I prodded Jamie in the back and whispered hoarsely in his ear.

‘A very obvious dummy.’

Whereupon the dummy hurled itself off the bed trailing plastic tubes and thrust its warty features in my face.

‘Jesus Cassie,’ Jamie gasped clapping a hand to his possibly perforated eardrum.

The hag cackled hysterically stretching gnarled fingers towards our cheeks. If she touched me I just
knew
I’d faint. Spotting a handy ‘Salida’ sign I catapulted out into the night. Seconds later, Jamie appeared by my side.

‘Well you did a fair impression of a terrified person to me,’ he teased pulling me into a bear hug. ‘Hey, you really were scared. I can feel your heart pounding.’

‘I’ll be fine in a minute,’ I croaked collapsing against his broad chest. I had a sneaking feeling it was his embrace causing my aortic disruption, not the old hag.

As the holiday got firmly underway we all spent virtually every waking moment together. We visited the local aqua park enjoying a surfeit of watery rides. We also dared to be truly touristy and, armed with sunhats, big sunglasses and a surplus of suncream, booked a trip on a converted fishing trawler. And all the while, in my mind’s eye, a part of me constantly stood back and studied the handsome golden man with the laughing sunburnt blonde as they holidayed with their four happy children. We looked like a family. Moreover, we looked like a family that had been together from the start.

Throughout the holiday Jamie repeatedly showed himself to be an adept and capable father to his children. He was also patient and kind with Livvy and Petra. If squabbles broke out he helped resolve them with the minimum of fuss. He was great entertaining the children, whether it be organising bat and ball on the beach or a local sight seeing excursion. Not once did he display impatience or lose his temper. He was so obviously a family man – one who threw himself into the role with great enthusiasm.

But apart from holding hands as we strolled to various restaurants in the evening or chaste goodnight kisses, the budding romance had yet to bloom. A part of me knew it was both impractical and unrealistic to expect anything more with four savvy children constantly around us. Instead I told myself to let things develop at their own pace, to relax and enjoy the old fashioned hand-holding and innocent kisses.

On our last evening the children went off for a late night game of table tennis in the apartment’s private courtyard where an ancient ping pong table idled.

‘Come on,’ said Jamie slipping his hand in mine. ‘Let’s take a stroll round the gardens and leave them to it for a little while.’

We turned the corner and, for the first time, were properly on our own. Suddenly we were encapsulated in our own private bubble. I felt the outside world recede as if somebody had turned the volume down. The grass was wet and a million dewdrops sparkled and twinkled like diamonds around our feet. Moonlight shone and glinted off the softly rustling palm trees, turning them crystal and silver. Tiny shivers of excitement ran up and down my spine as Jamie placed a warm hand on my neck and pulled me to him for a kiss. As his lips came down on mine I felt as though I’d been waiting for this moment forever.

‘You are beautiful Cassie. I love you.’

I gasped. ‘You love me?’

‘I do.’

‘You do?’

‘I love you very, very much.’

‘Love me as in
lurve
me?’

‘As in laying down my life and dying for you.’

‘Omigod. Would you really die for me?’

‘Yes.’

‘Would you?’

‘Stop. Right. There.’ Jamie raised his hand in exasperation. ‘I’m having a déjà vu moment. Would you please be quiet for a moment and listen to me? I don’t quite know when I first fell in love with you – whether it was the day you ignored my colleague and appeared in your car driving through chaos-’

‘Now look I’ve already explained-’

‘Or when you left that idiotic message under my car’s windscreen wiper-’

‘Jamie I did tell you-’

‘Or when I interrupted a hirsute workman chasing you down your hallway-’

‘Oh God listen I-’

‘Or whether it was that Speed Dating event where you spouted unbelievable garbage about being a mother to umpteen children-’

I shut up and hung my head in shame.

‘But there’s a part of me that feels like I’ve loved you forever. I find you hopelessly scatty, wonderfully endearing and refreshingly different to anybody I’ve ever met.’

There was a pause. I looked up under my eyelashes. He raised his eyebrows questioningly.

‘Well?’

‘Well what?’ I whispered.

‘Do you feel anything for me too?’

‘Yes of course!’ I exclaimed, ‘I love you too! Love you, love you, love you!’ I threw my arms enthusiastically around his neck nearly knocking the poor man off his feet. Steady Cass, don’t grapple him to the ground. Not yet anyway.

As we pulled apart it was to catch sight of four faces peering around the corner, heads stacked on top of each other like something out of a cartoon.

‘I think our dad and your mum might be dating,’ declared Petra to the others.

‘
Ew
,’ said Jonas. ‘At their age that is just so gross.’

As the plane juddered through its turbulent descent, I couldn’t help thinking how the unstable motion mimicked my own emotions. The thought of not spending the next day and the next with Jamie and all the children had me on the verge of howling like a baby.

Later, as our homeward-bound taxi joined the M25, a horrible emptiness settled within the pit of my stomach. Even the twins seemed subdued.

Once home I immediately set about releasing piles of festering laundry from suitcases but was interrupted by the doorbell shrilly ringing. I smiled, sure that it would be Nell hoping for details of a smouldering holiday romance. Well wouldn’t she be surprised!

‘Coming,’ I trilled releasing the door catch. ‘ We can have a coffee but I’ll have to pinch some milk off you – oh!’

For standing on the doorstep was not Nell but Charlotte. And on closer inspection she didn’t look so hot. In fact she looked decidedly wretched.

‘You old bat!’ she snarled, curling her lip like a Doberman on night watch. ‘Where the fuck is he?’

My eyebrows disappeared into my hairline. ‘I presume you mean Stevie?’

‘Of course I mean bloody Stevie,’ she spat. ‘Did you both have a good time smooching in foreign climes together, clacking your castanets all around the bedroom and shaking your maracas in his face?’

‘I really don’t-’

‘Where is he?’ her voice cracked and suddenly she was in floods of tears.

‘Oh Charlotte,’ I sighed. ‘You’d better come in.’

I guided her by an enviously skinny arm into the kitchen. ‘Sit down. I was just about to make a cup of black coffee. Would you like one too?’

She shook her head and gulped several times. ‘I’d prefer a fizzy drink.’

I popped a can of the children’s favourite lemonade and placed it on the table.

‘So. What’s up?’

‘I don’t know where Stevie is,’ she quavered wiping the backs of her hands across her eyes, smearing mascara everywhere. Livvy and Toby appeared in the kitchen doorway, eyes on stalks as they took in the distressed girl with panda eyes slumped across the kitchen table. I swiftly ushered them out while Charlotte grappled with her emotions.

‘Last week Stevie abruptly announced he was going away and wanted me out of the house by the time he returned. I was convinced he was with you.’

‘Stevie and I are in the throes of divorce. Jetting off into the sunset together is a total non-event. Look Charlotte,’ I said gently, ‘Stevie’s not a bad man. He’s just not a particularly faithful one. This might hurt now, but you’re better off cutting your losses. You’re young and beautiful. You can have your pick of anybody. In another five years you’d wonder what you ever saw in him.’

I patted her hand absent-mindedly. Poor kid. Even with black tear streaks and red eyes she still looked beautiful. Lucky cow.

‘Yeah, I guess you’re right. He might be good looking but he doesn’t half stink the loo out in the morning. And I caught him picking his nose last week.’

‘Disgusting,’ I agreed, ‘And I’ll tell you something else. When Stevie thinks you’re not looking he also picks his teeth, bites his nails, farts to order and scratches his balls.’

Charlotte looked horrified. She clearly had a lot of growing up to do. As far as I was aware all men did this.

The man himself telephoned later that evening confirming what I already knew and to say he couldn’t see the twins for a few days. When I mentioned the state his girlfriend had been in, Stevie was extremely dismissive.

‘Charlotte’s just a kid. She’ll get over it. I have to go now. We’ve a taxi waiting.’

We? Who was he with? It was only when Stevie had rung off I realised he hadn’t said when he would be returning, but when I tried to ring him back his mobile was switched off.

The telephone rang again just as I’d lowered myself, groaning with tiredness, into an enormous bubble bath. The twins were already in bed fast asleep. Anxious that a ringing phone would disturb them, I erupted out of the bath trailing foamy water and dashed into the bedroom to snatch up the handset.