Somebody to Love: Sigh With Contentment, Scream With Frustration. At Time You Will Weep. (23 page)

She stopped mid-stairs, wincing as something sounding distinctly like the grill-pan hit the kitchen floor with a resounding clang.
Wonderful.
Donna folded her arms and eyed Matt despairingly.

‘Medium rare,’ Matt informed her Sadie’s preference as to how she liked her steak served, ‘but she knows better than to diss a cook who’s spent hours sweating over a hot stove.’

He smiled wanly, then skidded back to the kitchen as Donna thumped on down, looking not as annoyed as she’d like to in fluffy pink slippers and mismatching pyjamas.

‘Uh, oh, Mother alert,’ Matt warned Sadie. ‘Swallow the evidence, Sade.’

‘Oh no,’ Donna sighed, studying the pandemonium that used to be a kitchen.

‘On the plus side, she is cleaning the floor,’ Matt pointed out, by way of compensation, as Sadie made a meal of the mess there.

‘Correction, Matt,’ Donna gave him a look, ‘you’re cleaning the floor.’

‘Huh, it’s not fair, I have to do everything around here.’ Matt sloped on in after her, wearing his best put-upon Kenny impression. ‘Here you go, Sade,’ he plopped Findus safely down under the table and plucked up a lump of steak to feed to the dog, ‘but whatever you do, don’t tell Mother.’

‘Twit.’ Donna laughed and readied herself to assist — as in showing Matt which end of the mop was which.

‘What say we go out and grab a pizza, now you’ve made yourself beautiful?’ Matt suggested.

‘Um…’ Donna indicated her un-beautiful state of attire.

Matt glanced at her, taking in the ‘Grumpy but Gorgeous’ top and cow print pyjama bottoms. ‘We’ll get one delivered,’ he decided, turning to pluck up the all-surface cleaner, then gazing at it as if were some strange new invention.

‘Squeeze the nozzle, Matt,’ Donna enlightened him. ‘I’ll go find Jack Bauer.’

Donna hid a smile and went off in search of the latest 24 DVD, and the only man she’d allow herself to fantasise about ever again.

Apart from Mark.

But that was only because he’d snuck up on her while she was in that vulnerable place somewhere between sleeping and waking. Oh, dear, her heart downward-spiralled again. She really did wish she could stop thinking about him.

‘Tomorrow then?’ Matt called, clanging the grill-pan into the dishwasher. ‘My treat. I got myself a Saturday job, sales assistant at
Bench
in Worcester.’

A Saturday job? Donna blinked, surprised, and turned her fluffy pink slippers back to the kitchen. ‘But what about your essential beauty sleep?’

‘Don’t need it, do I?’ Matt fluttered girly eyes and sloshed soapsuds onto the floor. ‘And we need the dosh, so…’

Donna blinked again, hard. He’d gotten a job. Bless his little Simpsons socks. ‘You’re all right, you know, Matt?’ she said, not wanting to gush too much, lest she make him blush.

‘I know,’ Matt said, mopping happily. ‘Could you wear rollers in your hair when we go out tomorrow though, and a shirt saying
I’m his mother
, just in case there’s any hot babes desperate for my body.

‘Yes, thank you, Matt.’ Donna headed back off, slumping her shoulders.

‘Compliment, Mother,’ Matt informed her about the bit she’d missed.

****

Mark glanced at Karl on the back seat of the car, Starbuck sitting as close to him as he could get. Mark swore that dog could think. ‘Stay awake, Starbuck,’ he said. ‘Or we’ll miss out on that treat when we get back, yes?

‘Stay awake, Starbuck,’ Karl repeated, sleepy but definitely awake.

Mark’s relief was immense and twofold. Karl
was
communicating through the dog. His
son
was talking to him. Mark had no doubt about it now. He wanted to wind the window down and shout it aloud. Wished to God he had someone he could shout it out with.
Forget it, Mark. Don’t go there.
He switched his mobile to hands-free as it rang, only to find it was Evelyn, which pretty much meant he couldn’t avoid going there.

‘Hi, Evelyn. How’s things?’ Mark took the call in case there was a problem with his dad. Also, he acknowledged, because he wished he could damn well
go there
.

‘I was going to ask you the very same thing,’ Evelyn said. ‘Can you talk at the moment?’

‘Briefly.’ Mark glanced again at Karl in the back. ‘I’m driving. On my way to the hospital.’

‘Oh, Lord, is Karl all right?’

Blimey, Mark had gathered Evelyn was perceptive, but that was extra-sensory perception. ‘He fell,’ he explained. ‘Playing with…’

‘I know.’

She did? Spooky.

‘I heard,’ Evelyn went on, ‘when I rang earlier.’

‘Ah,’
so it had been Evelyn on the phone
, ‘got you. So, what can I do for…’

‘I spoke to Donna.’

‘Right.’ Mark tugged in a breath. ‘And?’

‘And she won’t talk to you. Mark, why didn’t you tell her?’

Mark sighed. Explanations. There were always explanations or excuses for Karl. He should have told Donna. The fact was, though, he hadn’t. He wouldn’t make the same mistake again but, dammit, he couldn’t wind the clock back. And, right now, he’d had it up to the neck with explanations. ‘I’d have thought that was pretty obvious, Evelyn.’

‘Very,’ Evelyn replied, shortly. ‘Right, well, I’ll let you tend to your son. Little word of advice though, Mark, if I may?’

Mark rolled his eyes, guessing he was probably going to get the benefit of it anyway.

‘Do try and do right by any other ladies concerned. Breaking hearts isn’t something to be proud of. Goodbye, Mr Evans.’

Other ladies? Mark almost laughed, as Evelyn signed off. Other ladies in his life since his divorce, apart from Karl’s carers, amounted to two, both of whom weren’t interested in a relationship with a single father with an autistic son. He could make that three now, he supposed, including Donna.

No problem. At least he knew where he stood. He turned towards the Accident and Emergency department, trying hard to convince himself he didn’t care.

****

Five minutes later, Mark stood at reception trying to explain about Starbuck, who in the absence of his identification and a blind person, didn’t seem to be passing as an assistance dog.

He was also trying to hold onto his temper, which he was in danger of losing; and Karl, who he was in danger of dropping. He looked at the impassive expression on the face of the receptionist, sighed, and tried again. ‘He’s a sensory assistance dog,’ he explained. ‘My son has autism and… Look, for
Pete’s
sake, the kid has a gash in his head that needs stitching and is in imminent danger of having a full-blown tantrum. Now, will you please just contact…’

‘Mark,’ a voice called from the corridor to his side. ‘Mark, hi. Come on through.’

‘Thank Christ,’ Mark muttered, gave the guy on reception a scathing glance and did as bid, Starbuck in tow.

‘Hey, Michelle,’ He smiled, relieved. ‘Boy, are you a sight for sore eyes.’

‘Flattery will get you everywhere,’ the young doctor assured him. ‘What were you doing out there with the masses?’ she asked, tugging back a cubicle curtain. ‘Why on earth didn’t you just come straight in?’

‘Minus uniform, plus dog — meet Starbuck, Karl’s assistance dog…’ Mark nodded towards Starbuck ‘… I wasn’t cutting much ice with your new receptionist.’

He lowered Karl into a chair, rather than onto the trolley, where he’d have access to Starbuck and, more importantly, where Starbuck had access to Karl. ‘Hasn’t been on his PR course yet, I take it?’

‘Yes, but they’re more geared to Treating Customers Unfairly nowadays, on the basis that keeping patients out costs less,’ Michelle quipped. ‘Now then, what have we got here?’ She crouched down, postponing attending Karl’s wound in favour of petting his dog.

‘This is Starbuck,’ Karl introduced him. ‘He’s Karl’s best friend.’

‘Is he now?’ Michelle looked at Karl, smiling her surprise. ‘Well I think I’m jealous,’ she said, with a pretend frown. ‘I thought
I
was Karl’s best friend.’

Karl studied her for a second, then reached out and stroked her hair.

‘I see I am.’ Michelle twizzled her neck to wink at Mark.

She turned back to Karl. ‘Can I stroke your hair, Karl?’ she asked gently.

Karl flinched as Michelle touched his head, looking to try and assess the damage, Mark knew.

‘Er,’ he walked across and encouraged Starbuck to give Karl his paw, ‘only if his furry best friend holds his hand,’ he explained.

****

‘Girl done good.’ Mark peered through the cubicle curtain two stitches later, to where Karl appeared to be contentedly crayoning, Starbuck and a biscuit by way of reward by his side.

Michelle peeked in alongside him. ‘Boy also done good,’ she said, looking impressed. ‘Both boys.’

‘So,’ she said, turning to Mark as they stepped away from the curtain, ‘does the bigger of the two boys allow himself a reward?’

She scanned his face, her mouth curving into a smile.

Mark reciprocated. ‘Sometimes,’ he said, with a shrug.

‘So do you fancy showing a good girl a good time sometime?’

Mark glanced down, to where Michelle was trailing a finger suggestively down his chest. ‘As long as she promises to be bad,’ he said, looking back up hopefully.

‘You’re on,’ she said, swapping meaningful glances with him before checking her pager.

‘When and where?’ Mark asked.

‘Got a childminder?’

‘Can do,’ Mark said, knowing Jody didn’t mind the odd occasion he did go out, given she was available to watch Karl.

‘Tomorrow. Somewhere cheap and cheerful, then my place for coffee.’ Michelle waggled suggestive eyebrows as she turned to attend whichever duty called.

Appreciating the view, Mark watched her walk away. Realising there was more than coffee on offer, he felt fleetingly guilty, then dismissed it. As much as he’d like to have been with a certain someone else, he wasn’t. So what was there to feel guilty about?

Chapter Fifteen

Donna decided on a good dollop of frizz-free stuff in favour of rollers. And her new treat to herself in favour of the ‘
I’m his mother
’ tee shirt.

She shouldn’t be splashing out just because Matt now had a Saturday job. That money was his to keep, but Donna would be a little better off now Matt had insisted she cut his allowance.

Feeling guilty nevertheless, she slipped into her new M&S top. Short sleeved, hugging her thighs flatteringly over her jeans, it was just too hard to resist, particularly as the colour, dusty rose, with a rose accessory pinned to the shoulder quite suited her.

There. She pushed her feet into her high-heeled sandals and appraised herself in the mirror. Not too bad, she supposed, then beamed all over her face as Matt wolf-whistled from the landing.

Aw, bless. He was a good kid, turning young man — about to break some poor, hot young thing’s heart someday, probably. Donna twirled around. Or not. She noted his
Many Deaths of Kenny
tee shirt, cut-off combats and
Bench
cap and her face dropped.

‘I thought we were doing cas…’ Matt stopped and nodded. ‘I’ll just go and get ready.’

****

‘More liqueur, Sir, Madam?’ The waiter asked with a polite bow.

‘No, thanks. Just the bill. Excellent service, by the way.’ Mark nodded his thanks.

The waiter smiled graciously and went off looking pleased.

‘Tip, I think,’ Michelle suggested, sipping back her Cointreau. Her second, Mark noted, on top of two shared bottles of red.

Mark took a swig of his brandy, glad he’d gone out with Michelle, but also sad that it couldn’t have been with someone else. It obviously wasn’t meant to be though. Donna was probably out with someone else anyway. The AA bloke possibly, or one of the guys from the pub?

Mark swilled his brandy around his glass, then tipped it back. He was dwelling. He shouldn’t be, when he’d just spent an evening in very pleasant company. An evening that wasn’t over yet, judging by the look Michelle was giving him.

‘I thought it was men who were supposed to do the undressing with the eyes bit,’ he said, leaning closer, wanting very much to make love to this beautiful, vivacious woman, but beginning to have doubts. Serious doubts. Mark smiled and tried to look more like a suave sophisticate than a clumsy copper as his elbow slipped of the table.

‘I think we’d getter bet you home… for coffee.’ Michelle giggled, and attempted a flutter of the eyelashes. At least that’s what Mark thought it was. She looked a bit cross-eyed.

‘I’m going to…’ Michelle waved a finger vaguely behind her ‘… pee,’ she announced decisively. ‘Here,’ she handed Mark her half of the bill. ‘No arguments. And no sneaking it back in my bag, while we’re making mad passionate… thingy. I’m a jshunior doctor, now, you know. I can make my own way.’

Mark winced as Michelle turned around and promptly made her way into the nearest table.

‘Whoops. Sorry.’ She smiled at the startled diners, straightened their skew-whiff menus, then felt obliged to straighten the guy’s tie. ‘See you downstairs,’ she said.

‘Er, I think she means me,’ Mark pointed out as the guy looked uncomfortable and the girl he was with shot Michelle’s retreating back a look that could kill.

Mark paid the bill, then loitered outside the ladies’. Michelle, he suspected, might just meet him downstairs a bit quicker than she’d anticipated if he left her to negotiate them on her own. So much for making mad passionate… thingy.

Mark hid a smile as Michelle emerged. ‘
Ta-dah
!’ she said, arms flung wide, took two steps towards him and fell over her shoes.

Mark straightened her up and extended his elbow. ‘Allow me,’ he offered.

‘Anytime.’ Michelle waggled her eyebrows and wove him to the stairs, which they took slowly, extremely slowly, with Michelle’s tongue wedged in his ear, and Mark half-carrying her.

Michelle went for the full headlock, tongue-and-tonsil job in the foyer, much to Mark’s embarrassment and the amusement of the ground-floor diners, bar one or two.

‘Nice neck accessory,’ one onlooker commented behind Michelle, looking actually far from amused.

‘
Jesus Christ
.’ Mark hastily tried to extract himself from Michelle’s neck-hold.