Chapter 9 #2
Soon the flat and shop were looking much clearer, and several trips later, it was time to begin the serious work.
The rooms looked pleasingly bare, swept clean by Mab and Jess.
Sophie was taking a very long time messing around on her phone, allegedly researching chimney sweeps.
She had perched herself on the only remaining piece of substantial furniture – the old dresser – looking unnervingly like an evil pixie, in Mab’s opinion.
‘Where’s George?’ said Jess suddenly, looking around the flat.
‘It’s fine, he’s still drawing. He’s in the little bedroom, the one we thought could be his own. Are you really going to move in here tomorrow?’ asked Mab.
‘It’ll probably be Monday before I can get transport organised. I think Mum’ll be glad to see the back of us. George smashed one of her favourite vases this morning before we left. Accidentally, he said.’
‘Oh, was that why he was in such a bad mood earlier?’
‘He wasn’t in a bad mood, that’s just his normal morning look.’
Mab glanced at her friend. Jess’s normally cheerful face was white and pinched, and she kept peering into the little bedroom, as if she expected George to escape, or go on a wrecking spree if she didn’t constantly watch him.
Jess had always been fairly reticent about George’s at-home behaviour.
His school life had previously taken up most of her worrying time.
How were they all going to cope with twenty-four hours a day of George’s mood swings?
Right on cue, George burst out of the little room, swinging his pencil case by the strap.
‘Where’s my black felt tip?’ he hissed. ‘Did you take it out, Dickhead?’
Mab gasped. ‘You’re not going to let him say that to you, are you?’ she whispered to Jess.
‘Oh, that’s just his little pet name for me. It’s a joke, isn’t it, Georgie? You know Mum never touches your things without asking, don’t you?’
George considered this for a moment, and then turned his back and went back into his room, calling over his shoulder, ‘You’d better find it, DH. I can’t do the trees without it.’
Mab and Jess looked at each other. Jess sighed.
‘I know what you’re thinking, Mab, but there’s no point in picking him up on every little thing. If I did that, I’d just spend all day shouting at him.’
‘But… but…’ Mab gave up as the gang returned, demanding more tea.
She went into the now almost empty kitchen and began to rustle up a bacon sandwich mountain for them all, with Harry’s help.
He was looking rather jaded, and Mab thought it was probably time to sideline him into something a bit less active.
The day went quickly after the lunch break, and it soon seemed time to pack up for the evening.
Everyone – except Sophie, obviously – was covered in a thick layer of dirt and brick dust, but the flat was beginning to look rather good.
The empty rooms had grace and height. The floors were now clean and bare, ready for sanding, and the large windows were gleaming.
‘I know there wasn’t much point in cleaning them at this stage,’ said Jess, giving one more polish to an already sparkling pane of glass, ‘but I just wanted to show you what it’ll look like when we’ve done.’ Everyone paused for a moment and looked around.
‘See, I was right, it’s going to be sensational!’ said Leo, eating a leftover piece of bacon that he’d found in the kitchen. ‘You lot are amazing. I never thought that we’d be this organised today.’
Jess stood up. ‘Well, I’d better get George home; it’s bath time. Come on, Georgie, let’s get going. We need to scrub off some of this charcoal and felt tip before Grandma sees you.’
‘No! I haven’t finished drawing, Dickhead. Not coming,’ shouted George, from the bedroom.
‘I don’t envy you bringing up that little horror, Jess,’ said Sophie, smiling as she filed her nails. There was a stunned silence. Stan stepped in quickly.
‘Right, George, me and Kev need your help, mate. The van’s got a funny rattle and you’re going to have to have a listen for us. We’ll give you a lift home if you help us out. Deal?’
Nothing happened for a moment, and then George emerged from his room, bag packed and ready.
‘Can I sit on the front seat, Stan?’ he asked, hopefully. Everyone breathed again.
‘Course you can, mate, but we’d better get moving. My mum gets really mad if I’m late for tea.’
Jess pulled an apologetic face at Stan as they left, and Mab was reminded again of her brother’s talents.
Maybe this was going to work after all. If George joined the crèche, Stan might be able to keep him under control if he had to have some time away from school.
But long term, how was Jess going to manage?
And thinking about it, if George was in the crèche, there might be a distinct lack of other children wanting to be there, especially small ones.
Mab’s stomach gave a sudden growl, and she realised she’d had no chocolate or cake during the afternoon, something that had never happened before her pregnancy.
They’d all been so busy that no one had wanted to stop.
George had eaten the contents of his carefully prepared snack box while the rest of them carried on, fuelled by endless mugs of tea and a few biscuits.
Now Den stretched himself, and grabbed Mab’s hand, pulling her to her feet.
‘Come on, pet, I’m ravenous. It’s the chip shop for us tonight. No need to ask the rest of them what they want, they’ll eat anything you give ’em, they’re all starving.’
Sophie began to protest, but Den just grinned and towed Mab from the room, down the stairs and out onto the street, shouting, ‘Warm some plates, Leo, and butter some bread. I’ll bring vinegar and sauce.’
Den tucked Mab’s hand into the crook of his arm as they half jogged down the street. She began to pant as they hurtled round the corner.
‘Hang on, Den, what’s the big hurry? The chip shop’s only up the street, and it’s ages till closing time.’
‘I know, but I’m buying us an extra five minutes by running.’
‘Five minutes? What do we need five minutes for?’ Mab asked. ‘Can’t we stop a minute? I’ve got a stitch.’ They came to a standstill by the shrubbery on the edge of the park and Den turned to face her.
‘We need the extra time get to know each other better, and there’s no chance of that with all that crowd around us every moment of the day.
You look so sad when you think no one’s watching you, Mab.
I wanted to give you a hug. Well, more than a hug, actually.
’ He reached out and began to stroke her cheek, his fingers sending delicious shivers down her spine.
Mab gazed at Den in dismay. Had he read her mind?
Was she so sex-starved that he’d decided to take pity on her and cheer her up?
She opened her mouth to protest but he slipped a warm hand behind her neck and pulled her towards him, sliding them both into the bushes with practised ease and wrapping his arms around her, kissing her so fiercely that she had to lean back on a handy oak tree to steady herself.
She could feel its bark digging into her back as Den moved closer, his warm body pressing urgently into hers.
His hands were sliding under her jumper, and she tried to say, ‘No,’ but the word wouldn’t seem to come out.
She felt his fingers touch her already super-sensitive nipples, and moaned despairingly.
How could she resist this? Their lips met and Mab let herself drown for a moment in this river of lust. Her hips moved against his, and she felt him harden even more.
She had to touch him. Pulling Den’s shirt roughly out of his trousers, she ran her fingers over his firm, muscled back and down under his waistband.
His moan echoed hers, and he stopped kissing her for just long enough to attack the button and zip of her jeans.
Mab held on tightly to Den as stars spun behind her closed eyes.
She wriggled encouragingly and felt Den respond.
Completely overcome by the feel of his hand moving down her stomach, Mab had her eyes tightly shut when Den’s body went rigid.
He bellowed with pain and let go of Mab so suddenly that she fell backwards with her legs in the air, landing in a heap of nettles.
‘Christ,’ they both yelled, simultaneously, as Den fought to free his leg from the jaws of a large poodle that had just burst out of the undergrowth.
‘Nero! Nero!’
The dog’s owner forced his way through the bushes and stopped dead at the scene that met his eyes. Then he began to laugh scornfully.
‘Wonderful. This is just what I needed. The papers will love it. “Local businesswoman’s sordid romps in the undergrowth! Is Clayton-on-the-Bream ready for an adult bookshop?”’
‘Edward!’ Mab tried to get up, but somehow managed to get her legs in a tangle and fell over again, landing heavily on Den and knocking him to the ground with her.
Their dishevelled clothing left no room for doubt as to how they had been spending the last few moments.
Pulling out his mobile phone, Edward took three speedy snapshots, as Den lunged at him.
The dog growled ominously, and Edward seized a handful of collar and hauled the beast away, still laughing to himself, and shouting out different headlines as he moved out of earshot.
‘“Shrubbery Scandal; the truth behind the tomes”? Or what about “Tits Up – behind the scenes at the bookshop”? And don’t think you’re going to use any bad feeling between you, me and Beattie to wriggle out of our contract, Mab. You signed a legal agreement.’
‘Edward, I wouldn’t. You know I promised.’
‘If I could change things now, Mab, I would. You’re not the person I thought you were. But it’s much too late for that.’ Edward paused, glanced at Den, and turned on his heel.