AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“No,” I barked, logic kicking in. “I’m fine now. I just had a moment. Please take me home.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes,” I hissed, straightening my mac. “I’m sure.”
“Thank Christ.” The engine rumbled.
We drove the rest of the short journey in stony silence. Outside my front door Ronan turned to me and said, “I swear on my girls, Audrey, I didn’t know about this other woman, or the baby.” Ronan’s a devout Catholic. He’d never swear on his children’s lives if he was lying. I felt awful, ashamed, destroyed. “I’m really sorry, Audrey, I can’t believe he’s…” And then I don’t know what came over me, but as he was still speaking I moved forward and kissed him hard on the mouth. For a moment he stood like a mannequin, arms wide by his side, and then his lips parted and I felt his warm tongue entwined with mine. He tasted of cigarettes and whiskey and peppermint.
“Let’s go inside,” I urged, opening the front door and pulling him by the belt of his trousers. My lips found his again and we kissed wildly, his stubble scratched my skin as our bodies locked against the doorframe and then suddenly he pulled away.
“I’m sorry, Audrey,” Ronan said breathlessly. “I can’t do this… I’m married, you’re upset…Nick’s in a coma for fucks sake. This just isn’t right.”
“Well, they haven’t exactly been faithful to us, Ronan, have they?” I panted, straightening my knee length purple dress, Nick’s favourite, by the way.
“Yeah, well two wrongs don’t make a right, do they?” There was a painful silence during which his breathing steadied and we both gathered our thoughts, and then he said, “I’d better get going.” I nodded silently. “I’ll call you tomorrow.” But he never did.
I don’t even know why I snogged Ronan, it’s not as if I fancy him or anything. The truth is I just wanted to get back at Nick. I feel bloody awful now. I take a deep breath and press call. Ronan answers much quicker than I expect him to.
“Hi Ronan, it’s me,” I say brightly, heart thrashing against my ribcage. Jeez, I don’t know what to say. I want to put the phone down but I know it’s too late. “I just…”
“But leave your name and number and I’ll get back to you as soon as. Ciao.” Voicemail - Damn. I hate it when that happens, why can’t people just use a standard recorded message instead of confusing us with their personalised ones. I wait for the long beeps to end.
“Ronan, hi, it’s Audrey. I…erm…just wanted to say…well, hello. Hope you’re okay.” I pause. Oh Godddd, help me. I should’ve written something down, like they do at award ceremonies. “Erm… I’m just so sorry about what happened that night. You were right I was very upset…and I er…don’t usually attack men on my doorstep,” I cackle nervously, “Look, can we just forget it? I’m really, really sorry.” I say hurriedly, “Hope everything’s okay with you and Catherine. Bye.” I end the call with a loud sigh. So, that’s it. Done. I feel a lot better now. Now, where did I put that lilac silk Whistles top?
12
“Auntie,” yells Florian, hanging over the banister at the top of the staircase. “I can see your boobs from here. Are they real?”
“Get down those stairs right now,” Vicky cries, shaking her head, annoyed, “Honestly, Audrey.” I smile into my wine glass as Florian takes exaggerated, slow leaps down the steps. As soon as he’s within Vicky’s reach she grabs his arm and pulls him down the last step. “He’s become a right handful these days.”
I almost choke on my wine as it splatters from my mouth, spraying Vicky’s black knee-length belted dress and the twins, who are clinging to her knees. Nathan rubs drops of wine into his mousy curls and whines while Vicky looks at me blankly, wet hands outstretched. She looks tired, dark circles bulge beneath her sultry, brown eyes, despite an attempt to disguise them with concealer. Her dark hair hangs limply against her shoulders. It takes a while for her to cotton-on but when she does we dissolve into a fit of giggles.
“What’s the matter with you two?” George appears, beer in hand. Josh tugs at his taupe chinos, and he heaves him up, balancing him on his hip.
“Ask your wife,” I say, scooping Nathan up into my arms and wiping the liquid from his hair with my fingers, “Mummy had a Freudian slip, didn’t she?” I coo, pinching his button nose. “But she’s right, I have got a handful, haven’t I?”
“Yeah, yeah,” cries Nathan, waving his arms in the air, “Mummy had Florian shit, Dadda.” This only adds fuel to the fire. Tears of mirth are sliding down our faces. I point at Vicky.
“You look like a Black Sabbath groupie.”
“So do you,” she says, barely able to breathe from laughter. It’s so good to see her cheerful again.
“Come on.” I pull her by the sleeve, “Let’s give the twins to George and sort our faces out upstairs. We don’t want to scare off our guest of honour.”
We’re side by side in front of Mum and Dad’s double marble basins in their black and white French-style bathroom with matching illuminated mirrors. Vicky dabs at her eyes with her index finger while I unzip my makeup pouch.
“How’re you feeling now, Vicks?” I twist the body of my lipstick and begin to reapply.
“Oh, you know, the usual, knackered.”
“Have you seen your GP?” I press my lips together, “He may be able to give you something to perk you up a bit.” I offer casually, pouting at my reflection in the mirror.
“Nah, there’s no point. My GP’s bloody useless.” She brushes her cheeks with a pinkish powder, throwing me a glance in the mirror. “Besides, I can handle this. It’s not as if I haven’t been here before, is it?”
“Yes, but it’s different now, isn’t it? You’ve got two. I don’t know how you cope.” I scoop my hair back into a ponytail, it’s much warmer in here than I expected. Mum must have the heating on full blast again. “I had my bloods done recently,” I confess, “I was having weird periods and feeling a bit urgh. They’ve all come back normal, though. Dr Harper reckons it might be stress related. I can have a word with her for you if you like, she’s really very good, I’ll…” Vicky suddenly stops applying eyeliner, pencil in hand, mouth slightly ajar. Our eyes meet in the mirror. Her face is deadpan. Oh shit.
“Are you saying that I can’t cope? That I can’t look after my own children?”
