Part 10 (1/2)

Stevie's face, with its mask of utter bewilderment now, told him she wasn't getting any of this and he took a fierce intake of breath before further clarifying, none too patiently either: 'Fl-ow-errrs. If I came with fl-ow-ers, we'd mash their hids...heads totally wi' all the questions we'd raise. Think aboot it. Not only have we not reacted as rejected partners should naturally in accordance wi' the laws of heartbreak, but then we start oor own relations.h.i.+ppretend relations.h.i.+p,' he emphasized for clarity. 'I think the wee green-eyed monster would be oot daing...sorry, out doing his damage within a very short time. Basic psychology. No one wants to be that replaceable, that quickly.'

Okay, he had a point, Stevie thought, but at what cost to her own sanity?

'Like I tried to say to you beforebasic psychology,' he said again, tapping his frontal lobe skull-casing. 'I expect Matthew thought you'd totally freakas, I know, did my Jo of me. But we didn't, we haven't given them what they wanted. Trust me, their brains are trying to process the strange wonderful creatures that we are and cannae. We are haunting them. They are expecting more from us. They're waiting for us to flip and revert tae type, but they aren't gonnae get it and that will unsettle them more than anything will. Tell me that Matty Boy isn't expecting you to kick up a fuss.'

Stevie thought of all she had told Matt about the break-up with Mick, how crazed she had acted in grief. He had listened to her patiently then, with love and understanding. She couldn't have known then that her confession would be stored and one day used as a weapon against her. Now he would use her past actions as an excuse to extricate himself from her as quickly as possible.

'Yes, he'll expect it,' she answered quietly.

'Aye, well, there are reasons why Jo will expect the same.'

'Obviously,' said Stevie.

He didn't like the way she said the word, full of implication.

'Guid. Then, they'll no' antic.i.p.ate this turn of events in a million years.'

Stevie considered everything he had said. She hated to admit that he might be right, but she was going to have to, because she was desperate. Crackers as the whole scheme was, it was worth a try. Well, it would have been if she'd had the money to do it.

'I'll ring the landlord aboot the place opposite-' MacLean started to say.

'Excuse me,' Stevie tried to interrupt. Didn't he listen? Didn't he hear the bit about not being able to afford it? Had the sound of all those bagpipes affected his eardrums?

'If you'll agree to consider moving in there, we'll come to some arrangement about the money that disnae see you short,' Adam interrupted back. 'I might be able to batter the landlord down on price.'

Yes, she could imagine he would be very effective at battering. She had a sudden scene in her head of some old, defenceless landlord in a headlock saying, 'Yes, yes, I'll compromiseplease just get off my windpipe!'

She nodded her head warily. This seemed to incense him.

'Look, lady, I'm doing this primarily for me and Jo, not you and him, but unfortunately we're all knotted up in this together. This isnae a charity thing, if that's what you're thinking.'

'As if!' Yeah, like that thought had crossed her mind.

'Well then? It's the only way, and trust me I've thought of every possible solution. So if you would be so kind as to give me your telephone number...'

Stevie sc.r.a.ped the bottoms of the barrels of her brain for any other alternatives, but came up with zilch. As he said, mad as it was, this was worth trying. Anything was worth trying. Even entering an unholy alliance with McBeelzebub here. She had to get Matthew back, so she swallowed her pride and it felt bitter and lumpy on the way down.

'Okay, you're on,' she said, with a heavy sigh of resignation.

Once she and Matthew were reunited, they might even laugh at this one day, surrounded by grandchildren and sipping Horlicks by a fireside, with Mr and Mrs MacLean long resigned to the trashcan of history. She scribbled down her mobile number on one of the five million pads she had littered about the place, in case of sudden literary inspiration, then Adam left quicklya man with a mission, locked on course.

He rang her an hour later, during which time her nerves had knitted themselves into a scarf of knots.

'The landlaird willnae budge o'the price,' he said.

'Pardon?'

'Theee land-lord will not budge on the price,' p.r.o.nounced Adam slowly.

'Oh well, that's that then.'

'I'll cover what you can't afford. We'll sort out the details later. I've signed the lease and I've got the key, which I'll drop around to you this afternoon, so if you've anything heavy to carry across, I'll do it for you then, because you start moving in today. Ring your man tomorrow and tell him the place is empty a day early. Now go pack!'

Then he put the phone down before Stevie could manage a single word of protest.

Chapter 20.

Adam arrived with the key just as Stevie was disconnecting her computer. Together they walked across the road to inspect her new temporary home, whose formal address, according to the lease, was Humbleby Cottage, the houses on that side of the road having only names, no numbers. Humbleby was something of a misnomer, because there was nothing the least bit humble about it from the outside aspect and even less from the inside, as they were to find when they unlocked the door and went in. Adam hadn't (unfortunately) banged his skull on the beams and fatally injured himself. They were deceptively high and his head cleared them easily, although maybe it wouldn't be wise for him to start pogo-ing to any punk records whilst he was there.

The cottage was chocolate-box pretty. The kitchen was roadside with a huge Yorks.h.i.+re stone inglenook fireplace, an old working Aga and original wooden floors with thick patterned rugs over them. Thankfully, the modern world had been allowed in too and there was central heating and double-glazing with security windows throughout. There was the bonus of a good-sized, well-equipped separate study with hundreds of bookshelves, a lounge with an even grander fireplace, and a darling little sunroom around the back looking out onto a long private cottage garden, which apparently had been maintained by a gardener in the absence of a tenant. Upstairs was a huge s.p.a.cious girly bathroom and two ma.s.sive, pretty bedrooms with exposed beams.

For some reason, Adam had smiled slyly when he said, 'Only two bedrooms, eh?'

She hadn't even dared to ask what that might have meant.

A domestic service had been going in once every three weeks to dust it down, so the cottage was ready to move into without Stevie having to clean it or scrub out the cupboards. It was immaculate and fully furnished with some very nice stuff.

'Whit do you think?' said Adam.

'It's lovely,' said Stevie. She would have to be very careful and try not to fall in love with it. Her relations.h.i.+p with the house would have to be a casual one. Although she was beginning to doubt her ability to fall in love with anything again. As soon as her heart touched something, it seemed to scare it away.

'Rightgot anything heavy I can move for you?'

'I haven't got a lot of things,' she replied. 'I sold most of my furniture with my last house because it wouldn't fit in Matthew's.'

'You must have something, mon!'

'Just my computer for now.'

'Let's go and get it then.'

So off they went back to Matthew's house and he carried her computer over and set it up for her in the little study. It would be a change to work in some generous s.p.a.ce for a while, she thought, after being cramped in the corner of Matthew's tiny dining area.

'Work from home, dae you?' he asked as he was twiddling with leads.

'Yes,' she said, without furnis.h.i.+ng him with further detail.

'On this?'

'Yes,' she replied. He didn't need to know any more and she had no intention of enlightening him and earning his ridicule.

'So, what's next?' he asked, when the computer was up and running.

'Well, I've got some books.'

'C'moan then,' and he marched back over like a Black Watch soldier on parade. She hadn't unpacked most of them from her last move so they were all still conveniently in boxes under the dining-room table. Matthew had been going to buy her some shelves for her birthday, but he had not had the spare money and the date had come and gone. He had bought her some smellies from Marks & Spencer insteadthe sort of soap collection one would buy for a spinster aunt with dodgy olfactory workings.