Flings and Arrows Page 9

  June watched Arnold stroking Ralph. She could tell that her little terrier liked Arnold. She drained her cup and stood up.

  ‘I’d better make a move Arnold. I’ve been here far too long.’

  ‘It’s been a pleasure June. And hopefully our paths will cross again in the not too distant future.’

  ‘Thank you. That would be most pleasant.’

  As June walked home with Ralph, she thought what a nice man Arnold was. A very nice man indeed.

  Chapter Twenty Two

  Si was not happy. He’d been stuck in Accident & Emergency for hours. Progress had been slow. First, the main waiting room. Second, a cubicle. Third, a trip to X-Ray with Dawn in a wheelchair. And now, having finally had the offending foot photographed, they were sitting in yet another grey waiting room.

  Si rubbed his eyes. God he felt tired. For somebody who professed to be in terrible pain, Dawn had remained incredibly chipper. She’d prattled on and on all evening. Si knew her life story. Every bad boy she’d ever hooked up with. And he’d heard all about Melody, Dawn’s eighteen year old daughter. Melody, Melody, Melody. From cutting her first tooth to taking off to Blackpool for a few days with an ex-con. Si had nodded sympathetically and agreed that teenagers were indeed hell. But he was more concerned about the hell Steph was going to give him. Si kept thinking back to his wife standing on the doorstep. She’d looked a million dollars. All dressed up with nowhere to go.

  A harassed registrar appeared. He was holding Dawn’s X-Ray. ‘Come with me please.’ Si pushed Dawn’s wheelchair into a side room. The registrar put the X-Ray on a light box. ‘Okay, this looks perfectly normal. No breaks. No hairline fractures.’

  ‘But I’m in agony,’ Dawn protested. ‘Look at my foot.’

  The registrar knelt down. ‘Some local bruising and a bit of swelling.’ He gently rotated the ankle to the left and right. ‘Does that hurt?’

  Dawn promptly burst into tears. Si felt wretched. If only he’d not flung the blasted wrench down. Stupid fool. Terry was right. He should have known better. Si patted Dawn’s hand awkwardly. She promptly grabbed it and clung on tight.

  The registrar stood up. ‘Keep the foot elevated. Lots of Nurofen. Ice packs. Bags of frozen peas work wonders.’ He looked at Si. ‘You may take your wife home.’

  Si had opened his mouth to correct the registrar, but then closed it again. The doctor wouldn’t care whether Dawn was his wife or not. And all Si really wanted was to get home to his real wife. Dawn was given a pair of crutches. Slow progress was made to the car park. Si stole a look at his watch. Nearly two in the morning.

  He switched on his mobile. It lit up and tinkled a voicemail announcement. He clamped the phone to his ear. It was Steph.

  ‘It’s midnight and I’m going to bed. Hopefully you won’t be much longer.’

  Very terse. You didn’t need to be Mystic Meg to work out Steph was hacked off. He helped Dawn into the van, tucking the crutches in beside her. Si slotted the phone into the hands-free and started the van up. He decided against returning Steph’s call. She wouldn’t thank him for being disturbed. He’d drive Dawn home and with a bit of luck be in his own bed in less than an hour.

  ‘Okay love, where do you live?’

  ‘Hurst Road. It’s not too far from here. I hope I’ll be able to get up the staircase,’ Dawn sniffed.

  Ten minutes later Si pulled up outside a terraced house. Going ahead of Dawn, he opened the front door and flicked on lights.

  ‘Right. Let’s see about these stairs.’

  ‘I don’t feel confident Si. I’m worried I’ll fall.’

  ‘Well what about shuffling up and down on your bottom?’

  ‘No. I’d still have a problem getting myself upright. I’ll have to sleep downstairs. I have a sofa bed.’

  Si went into the lounge. A three seater sofa filled one wall. There were no armchairs. He removed the sofa cushions, unfolded the mattress and fetched Dawn’s duvet and pillows.

  ‘Could you fetch me my wash bag pet?’ Dawn asked. ‘There’s a downstairs shower room so I’ll be all right for having a wash.’ Si puffed up the stairs again. ‘Oh, and could you bring my nightie?’ she called after him. ‘It’s in the drawer by the bed.’

  Si grabbed the wash bag. He was taken aback by Dawn’s nightdress. It was little more than a scrap of lace. Steph wore cotton nightdresses. Sensible garments that came down to her knee. He hastened back to the lounge.

  ‘Thanks pet,’ said Dawn. ‘I’ll just have a quick wash. I’ll leave the door unlocked. If you hear a crash you’ll have to rescue me.’

  Si wasn’t a religious man but he found himself praying. Please God, let Dawn stay upright. Please God, let me go home. Please God, let me get some sleep.

  A little while later Dawn hobbled out of the shower room in a cloud of perfume. The flimsy nightdress barely covered her modesty. Si studied a picture on the wall. The lounge seemed to shrink. The sofa bed dominated the room. He looked at his watch. Quarter to three. Oh for some sleep.

  ‘I’ll be off then,’ Si said.

  ‘Before you go, I’d be very grateful if you could bring me a glass of water and some Nurofen. They’re in the kitchen drawer.’

  ‘Of course.’

  Si found the pills and filled a tumbler with water. When he returned, Dawn was propped up in bed. The duvet was tucked under her ample chest. Si averted his eyes. The nightdress left little to the imagination.

  ‘Here we are,’ Si handed her the water and tablets. ‘Right then,’ he hovered awkwardly. ‘I’ll say goodnight.’

  ‘Just one more thing pet.’

  Oh God. What now?

  ‘I haven’t got any packs of frozen peas. Could you give my foot a massage? Just for five minutes. I think it would really help.’

  Si hesitated. And then he remembered Terry’s grim face. The words compensation claim reverberated through his head. ‘Sure.’ He perched on the edge of the bed.

  ‘Let me move over,’ said Dawn, ‘and make a bit more room for you. That’s better.’

  She placed her foot on Si’s lap. Si noticed that Dawn had very dainty feet. Her toenails were polished bright pink. They looked like pretty seashells. Carefully, Si began to massage. ‘I’m not hurting you?’

  ‘No pet. That’s lovely. Mm,’ she sighed. ‘Keep going. Ah. Ooh. You’re right on the spot. Ah. Ooh. Mmmm. Don’t stop. Oh yes. Oh my God. Ah. Ooh.’

  As Si rhythmically worked his fingers on Dawn’s foot, his eyelids grew heavy. Dawn’s perfume soothed his senses. The sound of her soft gasps was hypnotic. He needed to close his eyes. Just for two minutes. Si’s kneading grew slower. He wasn’t aware of keeling over. Nor was he aware of two strong arms – used to lifting beer barrels – pulling him up the sofa bed. Seconds later the duvet was tucked under his chin. God had answered one of his prayers. Si was sound asleep.

  Out in the van, his mobile phone began to ring.

  Chapter Twenty Three

  Steph hung up the phone. She’d rung Si’s mobile half a dozen times now. Each time it had gone to voicemail. Why wasn’t he answering? Surely he wasn’t still at the hospital! Steph telephoned Queen Mary’s and asked to be put through to Accident & Emergency.

  ‘Hello. Are you able to tell me if a Mr Simon Garvey is in your waiting room?’

  ‘Are you a family member?’

  ‘I’m Mrs Garvey.’

  ‘One moment.’

  There was a pause while the receptionist liaised with a colleague. Steph heard mumbled voices.

  ‘There’s no Simon Garvey in the waiting room. Do you know why he came to Accident & Emergency? I might be able to re-direct your call.’

  ‘Oh it wasn’t Si needing a doctor. It was a lady. His work colleague. Dawn. I only know her Christian name.’

  ‘In that case I’m not allowed to give you any information. I’m very sorry.’

  Steph put the phone down. It was gone three in the morning. Si had left Jessamine Terrace hours ago. Dawn must have seen a doctor by now. But w
ithout knowing her surname, Steph had no chance of locating Dawn’s whereabouts. Steph pondered. What if Dawn’s foot was smashed to smithereens? And she needed an operation? Maybe she was being gowned up for emergency surgery at this very moment. Steph frowned. But Dawn had not looked in any great pain to Steph. In fact, as she’d sat in the passenger seat of Si’s van, she’d looked pretty damn smug. So where was Si? Once again Steph experienced a feeling of unease. She made herself some hot milk and took it up to bed. Perhaps it might help her sleep.

  Steph plumped the pillows up behind her. Comfortable, she drank the hot milk. The house was quiet. Unusually so. No blaring salsa music. No football chanting. In the room next door, Tom’s bed springs were silent. She wondered who he was staying the night with. He’d been very coy about sharing the details. All Steph knew was that Tom and Florrie were no longer an item. Well whoever this new girl was, she surely had to be an improvement on Tom’s last relationship.

  The alarm clock screeched and Steph jolted awake. She hadn’t even been aware of dropping off. Half past seven. And still no sign of Si! She flung back the duvet and stomped into the bathroom. Her eyes felt gritty, her head heavy. She brushed her teeth and washed her face. Work beckoned. But Steph didn’t want to go to work. She wanted to find her husband. She rubbed a towel over her face. What if he’d had an accident on the way home from A&E? Steph’s blood ran cold. She sprinted to the phone.

  ‘Accident & Emergency please.’ Her heart was pounding. ‘Hello? I think my husband might have had an accident. Was a Mr Simon Garvey admitted in the early hours of this morning? Yes, I’ll wait.’ Steph tapped her foot. Hurry up. ‘No? Are you sure? Okay. Thank you.’ She hung up.

  Who else might know Si’s whereabouts? Terry! But Steph didn’t have Terry’s telephone number. What was the name of that pub Si and Terry were working at? Steph chewed her lip thoughtfully. The Nut and Squirrel! The Landlord answered on the second ring.

  ‘Terry?’ he repeated. ‘Yes, he’s just arrived. Hang on a minute love and I’ll get him for you.’

  When Terry came on the phone, his jollity sounded forced. ‘Steph! How are you?’

  ‘Annoyed Terry.’

  ‘Ha ha,’ Terry brayed. Steph knew she terrified the pants off him.

  ‘Where’s Si?’

  ‘He’s not in yet.’

  ‘Yes I’d worked that out for myself Terry,’ Steph enunciated. ‘Si isn’t at Queen Mary’s. And he’s not at work. So where do you think he might be, hmm?’

  Steph heard Terry puff out his cheeks. ‘Gosh. Well. I would imagine he’s on his way here.’

  ‘I don’t think so Terry. If he were on his way to the pub, he’d be answering his phone. And he’s not picking up.’

  ‘How strange.’

  ‘No it isn’t. It’s quite obvious to me where Si is. He’s at Dawn’s house.’ There was a resounding silence. Steph was the first to break it. ‘I want Dawn’s address.’

  ‘Now look love,’ Steph could imagine Terry putting up his hands. He sounded desperate to end the call. ‘I don’t know where Dawn lives.’

  ‘I don’t doubt that Terry,’ said Steph patiently. ‘However, the landlord will know. I want you to find out Dawn’s address for me. I don’t care how you go about it. Just get it. Now. I’m waiting.’

  There was a pause. ‘Hang on a minute.’

  Steph waited. Her legs started to tremble. She didn’t know if it was from lack of sleep, or fear of what she was planning to do.

  ‘35 Hurst Road. I didn’t give you that information.’

  ‘And I didn’t ask,’ said Steph. She hung up without saying good-bye.

  Steph made the bed and quickly dressed. She couldn’t be bothered with breakfast. Right now food would stick in her throat. Gathering up her mobile phone and handbag, she slipped out of the house.

  ‘Morning dear!’ It was June picking up her milk from the doorstep. She was probably the only person in the road who still had the milkman deliver. ‘I’m really looking forward to our little dinner party tonight.’

  Steph looked momentarily blank. Oh God. She and Si were meant to be meeting Flash Harry! ‘So are we June. About seven o’clock?’

  ‘Perfect! See you later dear.’

  Steph hastened toward the bus stop. How opportune. A bus was coming along. Good. Hurst Road was on the bus route. In another twenty minutes or so, she’d have some answers.

  Chapter Twenty Four

  June watched Steph hurrying off to the bus stop. Her poor neighbour had looked worn out. June straightened up and closed the front door. As she walked down the hallway to the kitchen, June hoped Steph would be all right for the dinner party tonight. Opening the fridge, June stared at the contents. Zilch. Apart from the milk. She tucked the bottle into the side compartment and shut the door. Time to do a big shop.

  June picked up a pad and pen. She chewed on the pen top and thought about what to make for dinner tonight. She’d better give Harry a call in a minute to let him know what time to come over. Meanwhile, what could she produce with cheap cuts of meat? Maybe a chilli chicken casserole. Dessert could be kept simple. Tinned fruit and whippy cream. June put the pen down and reached for the phone.

  ‘Juney darling!’ Harry boomed. ‘I really missed not seeing you yesterday.

  ‘I missed you too,’ June fibbed. The lie bothered her. She mentally shook her head. She was mad keen on Harry! She couldn’t wait to move into his house and be driven about all the time in the Beamer.

  ‘I’m so looking forward to tonight,’ Harry was saying. June had a mental picture of Harry rubbing his hands together in anticipation. ‘Where shall we go?’

  ‘My place,’ said June.

  ‘Excellent,’ Harry purred, ‘can’t wait. Shall I bring my toothbrush?’ he gave a dirty laugh, ‘Just in case I’m too tired to drive home afterwards?’

  ‘I’m sure you’ll be fine to drive home Harry. Remember you’re meeting Steph and Si tonight – that little dinner party I told you about.’

  ‘Ah yes.’ Harry sounded disappointed. ‘Is Steph the neighbour that doesn’t appreciate our salsa music?’

  ‘Steph has nothing against our salsa music so long as it’s before ten o’clock at night.’

  ‘Gosh, what a bore.’

  June experienced a flash of irritation. She loved Steph and Si. It wasn’t for Harry to pass judgement on people he hadn’t yet met.

  ‘Steph and Si are very nice people. I’m tremendously fond of them.’

  ‘Of course you are. I’m sure I’ll love them to bits,’ Harry back-peddled.

  ‘Come over about seven.’

  ‘Can’t I come over a bit earlier? We could share a bottle of plonk and do some dancing. I have some new moves to try out,’ Harry lowered his voice, ‘and they’re very erotic.’

  June clutched the telephone. That was just what she didn’t want.

  ‘Sounds fun. Unfortunately I’m going to be very busy. Cooking.’ A casserole cooked itself. But Harry wasn’t to know that. Then June fretted Harry might lose interest in her. ‘But maybe next time?’

  ‘You betcha!’ Harry chortled lecherously. ‘See you later baby doll.’

  June put the phone down. The good thing about Steph and Si coming to dinner was they’d be acting inadvertently as chaperones. Consequently Harry wouldn’t be able to grapple June into any tongue-thrusting snogs. Or try and wheedle his way into her bed. Good. She’d much prefer it if they could just stick to watching sunsets together.

  Yesterday June had deliberately absented herself from Harry. Unnerved by talk of wanting to spend every sleeping hour with her, June had made excuses about chores. Instead she’d spent a lovely impromptu day with Arnold and Bridget. June assumed they were both an item. She felt faintly ashamed that she’d misunderstood Arnold’s intentions. He hadn’t stalked her around the park at all! June had also appreciated Arnold’s advice regarding the weekend to Brighton. As a result, she determined not to be pressured into anything. She simply wasn’t ready to leap into a four-poster
with Harry. Or any other bed for that matter.

  Ralph appeared, wagging his tail expectantly.

  ‘No darling. I must go to the supermarket. I’ll take you out a little later. Once the casserole is in the oven. Maybe we’ll see Milly again. Would you like that?’

  Ralph wagged his tail harder. June had to admit the thought of Arnold’s company was appealing too. The idea momentarily gladdened her heart. If she had a tail, she’d probably have wagged it too. But then she remembered that Arnold was Bridget’s chap. So she mustn’t let the thought of his company lift her spirits too much. June shook her head. She was being silly. She had Harry! So what if Arnold had Bridget. She would take Ralph to the park. And if Arnold wasn’t there, she’d swing by the pavement café. If nothing else, she could say hello to Bridget. Perfect. And maybe in time she and Harry could have dinner parties with Bridget and Arnold too. Yes, absolutely!

  Satisfied with the contents of her shopping list, June tore the page from her notepad and fetched her wheelie shopping basket. Saying good-bye to Ralph, she picked up her handbag and shut the front door behind her.

  June was about to set off down the garden path when a sports car roared into Jessamine Terrace. The soft top was down allowing the occupants to enjoy the new day’s glorious sunshine. June noted the driver was female. A raven-haired beauty with long hair that streamed out behind her. The woman parked up. Was that young Tom sitting in the passenger seat? Good heavens. He seemed to have a different girlfriend every day of the week. June pretended to busy herself fiddling with the zipper on her wheelie shopping basket. The woman’s voice floated over on the warm breeze.

  ‘We’ve only known each other two minutes, but I think I’ve fallen for you Si.’

  Why was the woman calling Tom ‘Si’?

  ‘I feel exactly the same way Amanda,’ Tom replied.

  Tom and Amanda then launched themselves at each other, lips glued together. June could see Amanda’s fingers tangling in Tom’s hair. Sunlight sparked off a gold band on her left hand. June gasped. This woman was married! Whatever was Tom thinking of? The pair of them broke away.