Mum’s the Word

The man smiled. ‘Emulsioning.’

Susie put her hands on her hips and waited.

‘Ceiling’s all done, we’re just putting a second coat on the walls. Do you mind if we talk over tea, only I’m totally parched? It’s really hot up there. The wood stain is all done on the skirting board and the doors. It’s looking good, although I think it would look better with another coat. Why don’t you come up and take a look for yourself? We thought we’d make a start on the floor tomorrow –’

Susie frowned at him. Tomorrow? Mind racing, she took the tea caddy down off the dresser. Meanwhile, Matt pulled out a chair and sat down, sitting well back from the table in his paint-stained tee shirt.

‘What I actually meant was what are you doing here in my house, besides giving my spare room a makeover?’

‘Ah well, I’m over here for the same get-together as Jack – funders, backers and all that baloney. Only for some bloody reason they’ve postponed the presentation until the end of the week – Friday – which is bloody annoying as our team have only got limited access to the site, but then again I have to keep telling myself that we’re none of us indispensable and everyone else is still hard at it, and this is just as important as anything we could be doing with a trowel. The stuff ’s been in the ground this long, another few days won’t matter … Great cottage by the way, I love what you’ve done with it. Anyway, I rang up to make sure Jack was okay – you know, the whole Ellie thing – and Jack said you needed a hand and I’m at a loose end. Et voilà.’

‘So you’re here till Friday?’

Matt nodded. ‘Well, if you don’t mind. I’m more than happy to earn my keep. I really enjoy decorating.’

Susie looked him up and down, appraising him without really meaning to. Realistically Matt Peters didn’t look like the kind of man who ought to be at a loose end. He was probably late thirties, with strong, even features, and big brown eyes framed by a network of fine lines that softened his expression as he met her gaze and smiled straight back.

‘Would you mind if I just nipped upstairs and took this tee shirt off while the tea’s brewing?’ he said. He had good hands. ‘Jack loaned it to me to work in, which was great, but I’m worried that I might be spreading wet emulsion all over the place.’

With that, he was up and away, leaving Susie with far more questions than she really needed after a long day at work.

While he was upstairs Susie started to unpack the shopping. She’d bought all the summer food Jack loved: French bread and hummus, tiny sweet cherry tomatoes, coleslaw, potato salad, ham, prawns, all kinds of delicious deli finger food, along with good cheese and chocolate éclairs and custard doughnuts, a bottle of wine, some beer and some soft drinks in case alcohol was not the answer. As if.

As she started packing the fridge Susie heard the gate open, then footsteps on the path, and without looking up said, ‘Hello, I’m glad you’ve finally shown up. I need a word with you.’

As she turned round she was amazed to see Robert standing on the doorstep looking horribly sheepish. He was clutching a bunch of forecourt flowers and a bottle of wine and looked and smelt as if he had just climbed out of the shower.

‘You didn’t ring,’ he said. ‘I was a bit worried about you, I thought I’d just pop round and –’

At which point Matt stepped into the kitchen, still busy pulling on his shirt, fastening buttons and tucking it into his trousers.

Chapter 4

‘God, that’s so much better,’ Matt said with an easy grin. ‘Is the tea brewed yet? If you want to carry on unpacking the shopping, I’ll pour the –’ At which point he looked up and spotted Robert.

For an instant there was complete silence. The two men looked at each other and then Robert reddened furiously.

‘Am I disturbing you?’ he snapped, his expression hard and set. ‘I came round to see if you were all right but you’ve obviously been making short work of recovery. How long has this been going on?’

‘What? Oh for god’s sake, Robert,’ said Susie, getting to her feet. ‘How long has what been going on?’

‘Don’t play games with me, Susie. Who exactly is this man? I’m not a complete fool, you know,’ he said.

Susie stared at him. It was a close call, though, she thought grimly. She was about to explain, about to say, ‘For goodness’ sake, Robert, grow up, this is a friend of Jack’s. They’re painting the spare room, I’m not sure exactly what the deal is but Matt was here when I got home from work –’ when something stopped her, and instead she pulled herself upright and, meeting his gaze, heard herself saying, ‘And what exactly has it got to do with you, Robert? After Friday’s little debacle I don’t think it’s really any business of yours what I’m doing or who I’m doing it with, do you?’

Apparently that wasn’t the reply Robert had been expecting. He spluttered, looking for all the world as if Susie had slapped him, his complexion deepening dramatically from red to a rather unattractive purple. He opened his mouth to say something and then, thinking better of it, snapped it shut. He looked at Matt and then at Susie, and finally said, ‘I don’t know what’s going on here, but I have to say that I’m shocked. I thought you and I had something special. I thought that you loved me.’

‘Really?’ Susie asked, as evenly as she could manage. The cheek of the man. ‘And I thought after the conversation we had on Friday that all bets were off.’

His mouth opened and closed like a freshly landed haddock.

‘I was coming round to see how you were, to comfort you – to talk. I thought that we were friends. I’ve always tried to treat you reasonably, Susie,’ Robert said.

The man was a real caution. She managed to avoid asking him when exactly that was and instead decided to put him out of his misery. ‘Robert. This is Matt,’ she said, indicating Matt, who was rooting through the drawers for teaspoons. ‘He works with Jack, he’s here helping to decorate the spare room.’

‘Really?’ said Robert, his expression and his tone suggesting he was not at all convinced. ‘That all sounds very cosy. When was this all arranged then?’

‘It was a spur-of-the-moment thing,’ said Matt.

‘I bet it was,’ growled Robert.

Matt, refusing to rise to the bait, grinned and held out his hand. ‘Hi, you must be Robert,’ he added warmly. ‘I’ve heard a lot about you.’

Susie stared at him.

Robert’s face was a picture. She could see that he was torn between finishing whatever he had come for and marching off in high dudgeon.

‘I was rather hoping that we might be able to talk,’ he said to Susie. He glanced at Matt. ‘In private, if you wouldn’t mind. Seems every time we need to talk there’s someone here.’ He tried out a smile, although if this was Robert’s idea of social grace and conviviality, she really was well out of it.

Meanwhile, Matt, apparently oblivious to the tension around him, was busy pouring the tea. ‘Do you want a cup, Bob?’ he said, proffering the pot. ‘We’ve only just made it. Sugar, milk?’ he continued conversationally, oblivious to the silence.

Robert stared at him. ‘No. No, thank you, not for me,’ he said. ‘I’m fine.’

‘How about a cold drink then?’ asked Matt, nodding towards the beers Susie had taken out of the shopping bag and arranged on the countertop.

Robert declined with a quick shake of the head. ‘No –’

‘Juice, then? You know we really ought to get the rest of this food packed away, Susie,’ said Matt. ‘Do you want me to make a start while you’re chatting?’

This time it was Susie who stared at him. He sounded so easy, so very familiar, as if they had known each other for years. It suddenly occurred to her that he was deliberately trying to wind Robert up, and it was working. As their eyes met Matt winked and Susie felt her temperature rising.

‘Why don’t you come outside, Robert; we can talk on the terrace?’ she said quickly, guiding him back out into the sunshine. Somewhat reluctantly, Robert followed. They left Matt whistling in the kitchen, busy ransacking the shopping bags and throwing open the cupboard doors.

‘Would you like me to bring your tea out there, babe?’ he asked as a parting shot. Susie glared at him.

As soon as they were outside, Robert rounded on her. ‘Who the hell is that?’

Susie held her hands up in front of her chest, palms towards him. ‘Calm down, Robert. It’s nothing. He’s nothing. He’s a friend of Jack’s.’

‘Nothing, nothing? It didn’t look like nothing to me. How long have you known him? What exactly is your relationship with that man?’ His eyes narrowed. ‘Have you been seeing him behind my back?’

‘Oh Robert, for god’s sake, don’t be so melodramatic,’ Susie said, but even as she was trying to pacify him she could feel her own temper rising. How dare he be possessive?

‘Well, have you?’ he demanded.

‘No, of course I haven’t.’ She stared at him. He had no right to take that tone with her, no right at all. Or was it that accusing her of cheating made Robert feel better about behaving so badly, now that he had scrambled up onto what he seemed to think was some sort of moral high ground?

‘I haven’t been seeing anyone; Matt is a friend of Jack’s. When I came home from work today he was here decorating. I’ve never met him before.’ For some reason, said aloud it sounded like a lie.

‘He seems very chummy for a complete stranger,’ countered Robert. ‘He’d got his shirt off.’

‘Oh for goodness’ sake, I don’t see why I should have to explain myself to you, but if you must know it was because he’d got wet paint all over his tee shirt.’ Susie sighed. ‘Look, never mind about him, Robert, why did you come round?’

‘As I said, I was worried about you and I just wanted to say that I was – well, I am very sorry,’ he said, shoulders slumping, his expression softening as he tried out his whipped-puppy face on her. ‘I didn’t mean to hurt you, but I didn’t know how else to tell you. Please try and understand – it’s not you, it’s me.’ He smiled at her, all big eyes and bald patch, and against all the odds Susie felt herself mellowing.

‘And I wanted to talk; I wanted to let you know that our friendship is really very important to me, that I value you very much – and that I still love you even if we can’t be together. And I want you, I need you in my life.’ His voice cracked a little. ‘I wanted – I wanted to give you a big hug, Susie, I wanted –’ He paused, and with a concerted effort to look both contrite and cute, dark eyes twinkling, held the bunch of cellophane-wrapped, wilted and late-in-the-day flowers out towards her, taking a step forward as he did so, all kissy lips and lust.

And then the penny dropped. ‘You wanted a leg-over?’ Susie suggested, half-joking.

The horrified expression on Robert’s face suggested she had got him bang to rights. His mouth opened but no words came out.

‘Fancy a Pimms, anyone?’ called Matt from the kitchen doorway.

Susie slapped Robert’s flowers back across his chest. It was all she could do not to beat him around the head with them.

‘Don’t mind if I do,’ she said, and headed back inside.

‘Susie? Susie, wait, come back,’ Robert said, hastily recovering his composure. ‘Please. We need to talk …’

Chapter 5

‘Next time you’re going to invite strangers into my house, Jack, I would really appreciate a little bit of warning if you don’t mind. You’re lucky I didn’t panic and call the police. Here –’ Susie said, thrusting a bowl of salad and a dish of prawns at him. ‘Frightened the bloody life out of me.’

‘Oh come on, Mum, Matt’s not a stranger. I work with him. He’s my boss.’

‘One man’s boss is another woman’s armed intruder,’ she snapped. ‘Now can you put those on the table, and then get the cutlery out of the drawer.’

‘For god’s sake, chill out, Mum, you said yourself when I got here that the spare room was a work in progress. Well it’ll just be progressing a lot faster now. The way we’re going, it will be all done and dusted by the end of the week, if not before. We’re doing a great job up there. And besides, let’s face it, Matt’s in the same boat as me. As us, really.’

Susie’s eyes narrowed. ‘Which is what exactly?’

‘The SS Nowhere to go and no one to love us. He’s just split up with his partner – actually, to be fair it was a few months ago now, but it’s not going well. They’re still wrangling over property and money and custody of the cat from what I can gather. All very messy, apparently. Anyway, the college have let him have a flat on campus, but it’s really grim. Circa 1963, lots of concrete and metal-framed windows and some very nasty carpets.’

Susie tipped her head to pick up the sounds of Matt padding around upstairs after his shower. ‘Really?’ she said conversationally, dropping wedges of French bread into a basket. ‘I’m surprised; he seems like a nice guy.’

‘He is a nice guy, Mum, but nice guys can still end up all alone with dodgy carpets for company,’ Jack said. ‘Or sleeping on their mother’s spare-room floor, come to that.’

She nodded distractedly, thinking about Matt. He’d been funny and kind about Robert after Robert had left. Lovely eyes.

Susie reddened. Lousy timing.

Jack stood back to admire the newly laid table. ‘There yer go, fit for a king. Matt is great company – they reckon that Alex, his partner, was a complete and utter pig to him. Everyone says the same thing about those two, chalk and cheese. Matt’s a really sound guy, Alex was pure poison – broke his heart, took him for a fortune and then buggered off with someone else.’

Susie paused. ‘Alex?’

‘Yeah, Alex Dawson – Matt’s partner – something significant in civil engineering or something. We didn’t ever meet but he opens up a bit about Alex when he’s had a few. Matt was really cut up. Alex was a bit, well – you know – liked to play the field. Matt comes home early from a conference one weekend and there is Alex in bed with another guy. Not what you want –’

‘No, not what you want at all.’ Susie shook her head.

She thought about Matt standing in the hallway door with his good tan, nice hands, great hair, immaculate clothes and being worried about getting emulsion on her table.

Mind you, maybe it was for the best after all. Shame, though – Matt Peters was really easy on the eye.

‘He said I can stay there with him if I like. Till I get myself sorted out. I thought maybe we could go cruising together.’ Jack laughed. ‘I mean, why not – we’re both footloose and fancy free.’

Susie opened her mouth to say something when, right on cue, Matt jogged down the stairs, wearing well-worn khaki chinos, another clean shirt, his thick grey hair still damp from the shower and pushed back off his face.

‘Come on, Mum, I mean you’ve got to admit Matt’s not bad looking for an old bloke,’ said Jack.

‘I heard that,’ said Matt. He stretched. ‘God, I needed that shower. It feels so much better – and that looks great,’ he said appreciatively, surveying the spread Susie and Jack had set out on the kitchen table. ‘I could eat a horse – country air and hard work is an amazing combination.’

‘Sorry, no horse, no steak and no onion gravy either,’ she said, indicating that he should sit down, wondering whether she ought to have a quiet word with Jack. ‘But please feel free to help yourself to everything else. I’m sure you’ll be able to find something to stave off the hunger pangs.’

Susie handed him the wine. ‘Do you want to open this while I get the potatoes?’

He looked over the label and nodded appreciatively. ‘Is the Pope Catholic?’

‘Last time I heard,’ said Jack, offering him the corkscrew.

As Matt undid the bottle, Susie watched his long, strong fingers and sighed. The nails were clean, trimmed short and looked manicured. No straight guy ever took that much trouble over his cuticles.

She pushed her glass across the table towards him. Matt looked up at her quizzically. ‘Been a long day; make mine a large one,’ she said as he filled it up. As he poured Matt started to whistle something that sounded suspiciously like something from Oklahoma.

The following morning Susie took Milo out for his early-morning walk. Today Susie walked slowly, letting Milo linger over new smells by the stile while she sniffed back tears of pain and self-pity, hoping that no one would be out this early to see her.

And so maybe this was it – game over, hunkering down to a life of singledom and solitude, with Jack moving into the spare room and his gay friend popping over from time to time to help with the decorating. She rubbed her eyes and sniffed again. Life could be such a pig sometimes, especially when you were feeling sorry for yourself.

It was just before seven, the morning still misty and slightly damp, sunlight glittering in the dewy, diamond-strung cobwebs. Over on the far side of the common other early-bird dog walkers were out beating the bounds around the well-worn paths. Today Susie made a point of avoiding them.

The common was surrounded by a single-track road on three sides. One end of the rough grassland was framed by cottages, with a bench and a seat and the village sign overlooking the village pond, while the other petered out into rolling scrub, farmland and woods, crisscrossed with rights of way and tracks, all eventually leading down to the river. If you picked your route you could walk for hours and barely see a soul. The road out led onto the bypass, the A10, and beyond that, a couple of miles north, Denham Market.

One well-worn path led right past Robert’s front door – it was the way Susie had walked most mornings for the last three years, and from where she was standing now she could see the roof of his house and the chimneys, the pantiles and the dark red ridge caught on the skyline between the trees. In the past, two or three times a week she’d drop in and they’d have a cup of tea together first thing, or hot chocolate in the winter. Sometimes he’d ring to see when she was leaving for her walk, then catch up with her and accompany her round part of the way before he left for work. There had been lots of mornings when she hadn’t needed to go into work so they had sneaked back to bed, leaving Milo dozing by the Aga, and there had been the odd, glorious, over-the-kitchen-table mornings. But not this morning, not any morning, not ever again.

The trouble was that whatever happened next with Robert, it was going to happen right under her nose. How was she going to feel when she met Robert walking hand in hand across the common with some other woman? Worse still, how would it feel when she met them bumping a buggy over the grass?

Susie could see them now, all tousled and Sunday Times beautiful, dressed in matching Aran sweaters. Robert with a toddler on his shoulders, the child amusing himself by giggling at his reflection in Robert’s bald spot, while whatever-her-name-was – who, in Susie’s imagination, had become a leggy blonde from one of the shampoo ads, and not a day over twenty-five – pushed a designer buggy with a plump blonde baby in it, the family Labrador trotting placidly alongside them.

Susie sniffed. Knowing Robert he’d probably invite her to the christening as a consolation prize, ask her to be little Tarquin Oliver’s godmother, so she’d end up having to go round at Christmas, and turn up on sports day to cheer him on, and have him for the weekend while Blondie and Robert caught a West End show for their anniversary.

Susie sighed. Some days, having a vivid imagination could be a real pain in the arse.

‘Susie? Wait –’

Oh no. She closed her eyes and braced herself for whatever was to follow. Maybe Robert had been laying in wait for her; maybe he’d been loitering over by the bushes, anxious not to look too desperate. Maybe he was planning to introduce her to Blondie right this minute? Or maybe he missed her –

What was she going to say to him? What was there to say that hadn’t already been said? Susie tacked on a smile and swung round, only to discover Matt jogging up the track towards her.

‘Hi,’ he said breathlessly, leaning forward, hands on knees to catch his breath. ‘God, I’m so out of shape. Fancy a bit of company? I’m not sure how much longer I can pretend that Jack’s snoring isn’t keeping me awake. On site I have to keep waking him up and telling him to turn over – I mean, my god, how did Ellie cope?’ Straightening up and not waiting for an answer he fell into step alongside her. ‘You okay?’ he asked.

‘Yes, fine thanks. Why wouldn’t I be?’

‘Well, for a start you look like shit; and Jack was telling me all about you and Robert last night.’

‘How very kind of him.’

‘He did mention you two had split up while we were working on the spare room yesterday, but I had no idea it was so recently.’

Susie said nothing, wondering exactly why Matt was so interested in her love life.

‘We opened up another bottle after you went to bed last night and he told me all about it. Friday? He said you were planning to get married or something. Sounds like the baby thing was a real bolt out of the blue.’

Susie tucked her chin down and carried on down towards the pond. She wasn’t sure how she felt about having her love life used as after-dinner conversation.

‘You must feel awful,’ he said.

‘I never actually said we were getting married, okay? Look, do you mind if we talk about something else? I need to walk Milo and then go home and get ready for work.’

‘Sure, sorry – and I understand, but it’s good to talk. At least I had some warning, some sense that things were going wrong,’ Matt continued, as if he hadn’t heard her. ‘Jack’s really worried about you, you know. He said you were bottling it up. It does you good to talk these things through, to let them out. That’s what I keep saying to him – just stop trying to be such a hero – life sucks.’

Susie stared at Matt, trying to work out if he was being serious. From the expression on his face, apparently he was.

‘And what I think is that Jack’s focusing on my problems rather than looking at what’s going on in his own life, don’t you?’ said Susie briskly. ‘Did he tell you about what’s going on with Ellie?’

Matt nodded. ‘Of course he did, but he’s still worried about you.’

‘Matt, I’m not sure what business it is of yours but it’s never been my habit to discuss my love life with my children.’

‘Fair enough, but you ought to talk to someone. Things had been going bad between me and Alex for a couple of years before we split – lots of non-communication, lots of not quite getting to the bottom of things. Alex wouldn’t open up about what was going wrong, but could make a row last a month and the recriminations and back-biting last three. Scottish, redhead, fiery as hell.’ He shook his head. ‘Mind you, I’m no angel either, I’ve got to take at least fifty per cent of the blame – and I certainly gave as good as I got. But what we never did was talk, not really talk. We just used to rerun old arguments. And it was hard for Alex – my parents didn’t see it as any of their business when we moved in together, but not Alex’s, they’re Christians, really strait-laced – anyway, that caused all kinds of stress.’

He fell silent. Jack was right, Matt was evidently still cut-up about it. They ambled on a bit further down past the willow trees and the pond and the ducks, and Susie waited for him to continue, but instead he waved the words away and said, ‘Sorry. Old news. Tell me about you and Robert.’

‘I didn’t think men were meant to talk about all this stuff.’

He laughed. ‘As a rule I don’t. It’s a completely new thing for me really. Alex and I were supposed to go along for counselling when things started to go wrong, but after the first couple of sessions Alex pulled out, despite having been the one who suggested it in the first place, so I went on my own and, despite all my doubts and mickey-taking, it’s really helped. You know, to work out how I feel and –’