Stockings and Cellulite (33 page)

‘Yes?’

I scrutinised her taut jawline. Hm. Hard to say with that hair curling under her chin.

A second later Stevie erupted into the hallway, hastily trying to usher the woman away.

‘Simone darling,’ he was saying, ‘I’m so sorry but I completely forgot the children’s mother wanted to-’

The words died on his lips as he took in Jamie’s presence.

‘Why don’t you both come in,’ he invited stiffly.

Simone smiled graciously and led the way into the lounge. An echo of fresh paint hung about the place.

‘It’s lovely to meet you,’ Simone dimpled, her husky tones bearing testament to a long relationship with cigarettes. ‘I’ve heard a little about the children and they sound delightful.’

‘Ha ha,’ I laughed, nerves making me sound like a braying donkey. ‘Jolly good!’

Jamie gave me a discreet glance, his expression clearly saying
settle down
. I collapsed weakly into one of the leather sofas and flung an arm across its length in an attempt to appear relaxed. Unfortunately my timing was off and I inadvertently whacked Simone in the face as she made to sit down beside me.

‘Oh God I’m so sorry!’

‘Couldn’t matter less,’ she assured pressing a lace handkerchief to a streaming eyeball.

‘Would anybody like a drink?’ Stevie glared furiously at me, ‘or will you not be staying long?’ he added pointedly.

Jamie answered for both of us. ‘A drink would be very nice. Thank you.’

Looking extremely put out, Stevie opened a trendy chiller cabinet in the corner of the room. A heavy silence ensued. I sat squirming uncomfortably while a reluctant cork slowly squeaked its way out of a bottle. Wearing a pained expression, my ex loaded a tray with glasses.

‘So!’ I chirruped into the insufferably tense atmosphere causing Stevie to nearly drop the tray and Simone to visibly jump. ‘Stevie mentioned you’re a marine biologist Simone. How absolutely fascinating!’

‘Yes,’ she smiled delightedly, before taking a glass from the tray Stevie was handing around, ‘and a very keen one at that. Does the subject interest you at all?’

‘Oh absolutely,’ I nodded catching sight of Jamie’s incredulous face.

Simone wriggled happily within the depths of the sofa. ‘How marvellous! So many people haven’t a clue.’

‘No!’

Jamie rolled his eyes.

‘Oh but it’s true,’ Simone confided. ‘When I discuss my work with people and tell them how fascinating it is to study the marine environment with all its rich beauty and complexity, so often I’m rewarded with blank faces.’

I instantly contrived my features to look unblank.

‘Do tell me about some of your work.’

‘Certainly my dear,’ she beamed delightedly. ‘What is it you want to specifically know?’

‘What about, um, what about what about what about,’ I gabbled sounding like Jimmy Saville on speed, ‘the watery bit!’

‘Absolutely,’ Simone laughed happily. ‘After all it’s the,’ she posted quotation marks in the air, ‘
watery bit
that covers three quarters of the Earth’s surface,’ she twinkled at me, ‘and yet – shockingly – we are more acquainted with the surface of Mars!’

‘Oh yes Mars! I just love the corrugated chocolatey bit,’ I smacked my lips appreciatively.

‘Ooh you are funny,’ Simone giggled.

Hell. She meant the planet Mars. Not the sweet.

‘Ha ha, just joking!’ I brayed.

Jamie appeared to be intently studying his fingernails.

‘Well now, in the not so distant past our beautiful oceans were seen as both an inexhaustible resource and a bottomless sink for our wastes. Yet the increasing and combined pressures of overpopulation and pollution have dangerously threatened our natural environment, which means there is an increasing need for scientists who can understand how it all works, monitor how it affects us and, in turn, how
we
are affecting
it
. And this monitoring ranges from global warming right through to the tiniest plankton and from small local issues to vast global concerns. We now know that the marine environment is inextricably linked to our lives and indeed to our future survival.’

‘Amazing.’ Were we still speaking English?

‘It takes a multi-disciplinary approach to explore and understand the marine environment. One needs to know about marine ecosystems, pollution, coastal navigation and oceanography.’

‘Ah yes, oceanography,’ I nodded sagely.

‘Do you actually know what that is Cass?’ Stevie asked sarcastically.

Bastard.

‘Yes of course,’ I spluttered. ‘Oceanography is…well it’s like geography but…of the ocean.’

Simone clapped her hands gleefully. ‘But my dear! I’d be more than happy to show you around my harbourside marine laboratory. I’m currently doing project work and I’d love to show you what’s planned for a trip to Belize later this year. I’m going to be heading up a team studying tropical marine environments. Why don’t you join us?’

‘I’m afraid that simply isn’t possible Simone darling,’ Stevie smoothly interrupted. ‘Cass is far too busy as a mover and shaker around the high-powered world of sparring solicitors and barristers in court room dramas.’

Stevie’s mocking tone completely by-passed Simone.

‘How terribly interesting,’ she smiled. ‘A bit of a legal beagle are you?’

‘She is,’ Jamie interrupted. ‘But first and foremost Cassie is a mother. And an absolutely brilliant one too.’

‘Now that’s an area where I totally lack qualification,’ Simone inclined her head graciously towards me in defeat. She seemed completely unaware of the multi-stranded undercurrents running through the gathering.

‘And it’s actually the mothering and – indeed – the fathering side of things that both Cassie and I were hoping to discuss with you tonight Stevie.’

I gulped.

‘The fathering side? What exactly are you talking about?’ Stevie glared at Jamie.

Simone finally registered the sour atmosphere and stood up.

‘I think this is a suitable moment to powder my nose,’ she tactfully excused herself.

Stevie waited until Simone’s tread on the staircase had receded and a distant door firmly closed.

‘What exactly is this all about?’ his eyes glittered dangerously.

‘I’d have thought it obvious given the conversation you had with Cassie earlier this week,’ Jamie replied mildly. ‘You indicated a wish to be consulted before any man had anything to do with your children. Therefore I’m here to discuss Livvy and Toby.’

‘You leave
my
children out of it,’ warned Stevie. ‘They’re absolutely nothing to do with you.’

‘Oh but they are – through circumstance. I have a son and daughter myself so I know and understand where your feelings are coming from, but hope you’ll agree it’s important we try and get along. It would be a shame to let your personal feelings impact upon Livvy and Toby. Especially when they become my stepdaughter and step-son.’

‘Your
what
?’ Stevie’s eyes bulged like a frog’s, his mouth opening and closing like a goldfish.

I almost called Simone back down to investigate.

In the circumstances I thought Jamie handled Stevie brilliantly, but inadvertently the twins’ father now knew ahead of the children that Jamie and I planned to marry one day.

Stevie telephoned the following morning demanding to speak with the twins on the matter. Thankfully both children were at the stables.

‘I’m warning you now Cass, if you do anything to change
my
kids’s family structure, you will bitterly live to regret it.’

‘Don’t you threaten me Stevie,’ I warned. ‘It’s a pity you didn’t think more about family structure when you were chasing other women and bonking for Britain.’

But he’d hung up.

‘I think,’ said Jamie during our usual late night telephone conversation, ‘that it’s now imperative we talk to all the children. The sooner the better.’

‘Okay,’ I anxiously twiddled a strand of hair.

‘How about all of us having this weekend together – preferably at my place. I don’t fancy Stevie bashing the door down and creating a scene if he sees my car on your drive overnight.’

‘Can you fit us all in?’ I asked tucking the cordless phone into my shoulder and letting my other hand have a twiddle too.

‘No problem. Petra and Jonas both have pull-outs under their beds, so the girls can gossip all night and the boys can play computer games. You and I, of course, will be in my double bed.’

‘Together,’ I added, fingers twiddling fretfully.

‘Together.’

‘In front of the kids,’ I pointed out, twiddling faster.

‘In front of the kids. Don’t worry so Cassie. Goodnight my love.’

‘Goodnight.’

It took me several minutes to free my hair from the handset.

In due course my collection of Liv and Toby from the stables was timed to coincide with Jamie retrieving Petra and Jonas.

As the car bumped along the dirt track to the stables I caught sight of Jamie parked up ahead and getting out of his car. I tooted my horn and drew up alongside.

‘Let’s leave the kids for another ten minutes,’ Jamie suggested as I locked up the car. ‘Matt’s asked us to join him for a quick drink.’

‘Okay, that’s nice.’

‘You’re even nicer,’ he lowered his head and kissed my lips.

Naturally Morag was at the house. I left Matt and Jamie chatting on the terrace and sought her out.

‘Have you moved in?’ I grinned as she poured cold shandies for everybody.

‘I’m still to’ing and fro’ing – but not for much longer. Can you keep a secret?’ she glanced furtively about.

‘Go on.’

She hastened over to the kitchen door and quietly closed it.

‘I’m not meant to say anything yet Cass, but I can’t help it. Guess what? Go on guess!’

‘Gosh I don’t know. You’re up the duff?’

‘Not yet but that’s on the cards. Go on. One more guess!’ she hugged herself in excited anticipation.

‘I give up.’

‘Matt’s asked me to marry him,’ she squeaked happily, ‘and I’ve said yes!’

‘Oh Morag, that’s wonderful news!’ I hugged her warmly, no easy task with two barrage balloons in the way. ‘I just know you’re both going to be deliriously happy together because you’re so right for one another. But why all the secrecy?’

‘Well it’s only for a few more days, just until Matt has told all the children. He wants them to be the first to know.’

Ah yes. I could certainly identify with that. I held back from confiding my own news on the marital subject. I didn’t want to eclipse her moment.

Livvy and Toby were most surprised when, later, we followed Jamie’s car to his house rather than going home.

‘What’s occurring?’ asked Livvy.

‘Oh nothing much. Just a sleepover,’ I announced airily. ‘Jamie and I thought it would be rather fun.’

‘But we haven’t packed our stuff,’ said Livvy.

‘I popped a few things in an overnight bag earlier on. It’s all in the boot.’

‘Cool,’ said Toby. ‘So what time will you pick us up tomorrow?’

‘Er, well actually I thought I’d join in. Grown ups like a bit of fun too you know,’ I smiled.

‘You’re having a sleepover too?’ Livvy frowned.

‘Yes.’

‘What – with Jamie?’

‘With Jamie,’ I nodded.

‘But where will you sleep?’ asked Toby.

Oh for goodness sake.

‘W-e-ll, we’ll sort that out when we get there.’

‘Why don’t you share Jamie’s bed?’ suggested Livvy.

‘What an absolutely
brilliant
idea,’ I exhaled with relief.

As I cut the engine on Jamie’s driveway, Jonas leapt excitedly out of his father’s car.

‘Breaking news! We’re having a sleepover – including my Dad and your Mum – but they’ll have to squash up and share the same bed.’

Jamie had evidently phrased everything just so
.
Only Petra, lounging against the Rover’s grubby wing, cast me a sly knowing look. I had the grace to blush.

Jamie grinned as I walked towards him.

‘Mission One successfully accomplished,’ he gave me a quick hug. ‘Mission Two will follow tomorrow.’

‘What’s Mission Two?’

‘Meeting my mother.’

Waking up beside Jamie the following morning and knowing our four children were about felt both strange but right. But there wasn’t time to languish. Jamie’s mother was due at midday.

Edna Mackerel was absolutely everything that I wasn’t. Screamingly punctual, she arrived in a pristine Micra just as the big hand of the clock was edging past noon. As the engine died there was a brief pause before the driver’s door swung open and a pair of well shod size threes alighted on the tarmac. The legs, still shapely and encased in silk stockings, were followed by a small woman with a strong jaw. As I monitored her progress from behind the violently twitching kitchen curtains, it was glaringly obvious that this was a pensioner capable of leading armies.

As Jamie welcomed his mother in the hallway I hastily dropped the curtain and threw myself down on a seat at the kitchen table. Feeling an urge to do something with my hands, I grabbed one of the children’s abandoned lemonades and fiddled with the glass. As Edna walked into the kitchen I leapt to my feet and stuck a hand out in welcome, promptly knocking the lemonade over.

‘Oh bugger,’ I greeted.

‘Leave that darling,’ Jamie instantly took control with a wet J-cloth. ‘I’ll clear up while you and Mum get acquainted.’

Gazing into Edna’s piercing blue eyes I perceived the sort of shrewd intelligence only the very gifted are born with. As we shook hands I felt as if I were standing before a pint sized female version of Arnie from The Terminator. I just
knew
Edna was scanning, assessing and digesting my every pore.

Jamie busied himself cooking Sunday lunch leaving me badly parodying his efficiency. I messed about with napkins, laid and relaid the table, moving cutlery about unnecessarily. Not that Jamie was the next Gordon Ramsay or anything. Far from it. A bog standard chicken had been placed in a roasting tray surrounded by supermarket prepared roasties, parsnips and Yorkshire puds, and the steamer was loaded up with a mixture of frozen veg. He was almost a kindred spirit to my own easy-does-it cuisine, although my expertise was more akin to slaving over a hot tin opener and bunging things in the microwave.