Chapter 67
‘You idiot! Didn’t you see me?’ Gemma could hardly believe what had just happened. Joe had shot straight into her as though she hadn’t been there!
‘Are you all right?’ His voice rang through the night, sounding panicky, not like cool, self-possessed Joe at all.
‘Luckily I am,’ she said tearfully, bending and running her hands over her poor car’s dented bonnet. ‘But Gran’s lights are smashed and there’s a horrible bump in the front.’
‘Your grandmother?’ repeated the voice, coming nearer. ‘What’s she doing here?’
‘She’s not, you twit. She’s dead. That’s the whole point. This was my gran’s car and she’s ancient. I mean the lights are ancient.’ Gemma sniffed, wiping her nose on the sleeve of her lovely wedding dress in the absence of a tissue. ‘Morris is one of the few things I’ve got left of her – even if I can replace the lights, they’ll cost a fortune.’
It was no good. On top of everything that had happened this evening with Barry, this was too much. Sinking to the ground, Gemma put her head on her knees to shut out the rest of the world and sobbed. She cried for her grandmother. She cried for Sam, whom she’d waited for, in vain, for so long. She cried for Danny and Lily out of relief. And she cried for Barry, who, although he ticked all the right boxes, had turned out to be another false hope.
‘I’m sorry.’ Joe sounded as though he really meant it. ‘I know what it’s like to lose something precious.’ Then suddenly she felt something warm around her. Gemma stiffened. It was Joe’s arm. He was actually sitting down on the ground next to her, with his arm around her, stroking her shoulder and gently pulling her towards him so that she was leaning into his body.
‘What on earth do you think you’re doing?’ she began to say, but the rhythmic stroking motions were doing something to her; something which she could hardly put into words. Was she imagining all this? Was it possible that Joe Balls, head of Reception, who could still at times annoy her with his ‘I know best’ attitude, was giving her a cuddle? And if so, why wasn’t she pushing him off and telling him that he was the last person in the world she thought of in that way and that he honestly wasn’t her type?
‘Thank heavens you weren’t hurt,’ he was saying now in a voice that was gentle and yet firm at the same time. ‘I couldn’t have forgiven myself if I had done that. And don’t worry about your car. I’ll pay whatever it takes to put it to rights, I promise you.’
The stroking stopped, and Gemma felt surprisingly regretful. In the light that was just about reaching them from the school building, she could see Joe getting up and holding out his hand. Hesitating slightly, she took it and found herself being pulled to her feet. He was looking down at her now and – there was no doubt about it this time! – Gemma felt a delicious shiver pass through her.
‘Could I ask you something?’ he said, his eyes fixed on hers but not in a stern way.
She tried to find her voice. ‘That depends.’
‘Will you come with me to the friendship circle?’
Gemma gave him a quizzical look. ‘The one that, if I am correct, you said was unnecessary at the beginning of term?’
‘I was wrong. Sorry.’ He scratched the back of his neck in embarrassment. It was a gesture she’d started to notice only recently. Quite endearing, really. ‘It’s a good idea, but I didn’t know it then.’ He grinned uncertainly. ‘To be fair, I was still getting to know you all in those days.’
The cheek of the man! ‘And now you think you do? Personally, I’m still getting to know myself.’
He laughed. A nice warm friendly laugh, not like the short sarcastic ones which had seemed his trademark when she first knew him.
She nodded at his monster of a bike. ‘Aren’t you going to check it first to see if you’ve hurt it? I seem to recall that when I reversed into you, back in September, your bike was more important to you than any limb, let alone a friendship circle.’
‘No, I’m not.’ His voice was firm, although he gave the bike a quick glance as if he would indeed like to check out any damage. ‘No, this is more important.’
He was actually slipping his arm around her waist as they walked up towards the circle of stones. She had thought that him sitting on the ground with her and stroking her shoulder was merely how a comforting friend would behave, but putting an arm round her waist? And why was this tingle spreading through her bones? Surely she wasn’t falling for Joe?
‘Do you want to jump inside or shall I?’ he asked, grinning at her.
‘Jump?’ she repeated. ‘You mean you can jump as well as do a reverse turn in personality? What happened to the tough Joe Balls we used to fear?’
He looked hurt, and instantly she wished she could take the words back. ‘I’m sorry,’ she said, moving towards him and, without meaning to, taking his hands in hers. ‘It’s just that I’m confused. You seem different now.’
He nodded. ‘That’s because I am different, and part of that, Gemma Merryfield, is thanks to you.’
If his face hadn’t looked so serious, she would have laughed. None of this made sense. None of this was logical. None of this added up. None of this explained why she was still holding his hands and he, hers.
‘Please.’ He indicated the circle of stones which she and the children had so painstakingly laid at the beginning of term. ‘I want us both to stand in it. Unless, of course, there is something stopping you.’
As he spoke, he let go of her left hand and looked at it carefully, as though searching for something.
‘I broke it off,’ she said quietly. ‘I gave Barry his ring back.’
‘Wise move!’
That was definitely a smile passing across his lips. ‘How do you know?’
Joe gave a shrug. ‘Just didn’t feel right, either to me or Bella.’
‘You talked about it to her ?’
‘Didn’t have to. That girl’s face says it all, although I did hear her make some comment to someone about engagement rings. Afraid she didn’t seem to think much of yours.’
‘It’s the person who matters, not the ring,’ replied Gemma.
His hand tightened on hers. ‘Exactly.’ Then he moved closer again, closer than before so she could smell him: a sort of lemony woody mixture which made her want to breathe him in.
‘Is this all right?’ he murmured, and she nodded. ‘Just so long as you don’t think I make a habit of moving from one man to another,’ she told him.
‘Surely not?’ He glanced at his watch. ‘It’s been at least, let’s see, at least two hours twenty minutes.’
‘What about you?’ she retorted. ‘Do you make a habit of bringing your ex-wife along to social occasions?’
‘Nope.’ He shook his head in an exaggerated, playful fashion. ‘I promise that if you agree to go out with me, I will keep my ex-wife firmly locked up.’
Go out with him? That was insane. So why was her heart thumping like that? ‘That’s all right then,’ she said, smiling.
His face was coming nearer. And now his lips were pressing hers. She felt her mouth melting into his as though it recognised his touch; as though they had done this before. Don’t stop, she urged him silently, with an urgency and heat that matched his. Don’t ever stop. These, finally, were the fireworks which Kitty had spoken of with such authority. And maybe, said a sudden small voice inside her head, this was why she hadn’t been able to commit herself to Barry. Perhaps, deep down, she had been secretly harbouring a passion for Joe.
‘Mummeeee,’ piped up a shrill voice. ‘Look! Mrs Merryfield is kissing Mr Balls. And she’s married!’
Instantly they stopped, whipping round to see who had caught them out.
‘Sorreee!’ called out a well-modulated, embarrassed voice. ‘Honey left her tiara behind so we’ve come back to find it.’
Joe’s voice sounded hoarse, as though he’d been smoking. ‘There’s one in the Lost Property box. Can it wait until tomorrow?’
‘Of course!’ Honey’s mother trilled. ‘Have a nice evening, both of you.’
The moment had gone, thought Gemma in despair. Little Honey had unwittingly blown it for both of them. Now Joe would act all embarrassed and apologise and say he hadn’t meant it. He was certainly looking awkward enough, shifting from foot to foot like that. ‘Never try to act with children or animals,’ he said, clearly trying to introduce a note of levity. ‘By the way, I’ve been meaning to say. It’s very sweet the way the kids call you Mrs instead of Miss.’
Gemma felt a stab of uncertainty. ‘Actually,’ she began, but he was going on talking, sounding a little flustered.
‘Now,’ he predicted, ‘it’s going to be all over school that I’ve been caught kissing a married woman.’
OK. It was time to come clean. ‘Joe, there’s something I’ve got to tell you,’ she said. ‘But not here. Do you mind if we go back to your room? I’d rather tell you there.’
His finger was tracing the outline of her lips now, so she could barely get the last words out. ‘Whatever it is,’ he murmured, ‘it can wait, don’t you think?’
As his mouth closed over hers, sending hot urgent waves pounding through her body, another small voice inside Gemma’s head told her that he was right. Her confession could wait. Sam was her past now, and so was Barry. If she was lucky, Joe might just be her future. And that, after all, was what mattered.