Page 64 of The Three of Us

When the cakes are cool, she carefully slices the top off each one, scoops out a hollow in the middle and spoons a big dollop of pink-stained butter icing into half of them, then lays the spongey tops back on to make a mound and smothers the whole thing with a thick swirl of pure white icing to stick it tightly back together. She repeats the whole procedure with the blue, then lifts and checks each one, making sure no tell-tale colour is seeping out anywhere. She has kept the sponge itself a neutral cakey beige this time, not wanting to risk the tiniest glimpse of colour emerging through the outer casing of icing on the way. Trains can be bumpy, and there must be no accidental reveal before she is ready.

She gazes at the finished cakes with pride, then has a minor panic trying to remember which plate holds the pink centres and which the blue. But, of course, she knows. She’s a professional now, and not about to make that sort of silly mistake. She writes a quick note to label them anyway, just in case she forgets. She gets the cake carrier ready to load later, picks up a gingerbread and bites its little doggy head off with a satisfying crunch, then goes to the bedroom to pack their bag for the weekend.

It’s quarter to three and Jack isn’t here. Molly sits, with her coat and shoes already on, the bags at her feet, the cakes carefully encased in their carrier and her handbag on her lap. She knows she is tapping her fingers on the arm of the chair and wills herself to stop. It’s no good getting impatient or worked up about it. It’s not good for her blood pressure.

She wonders if there’s time to make a cup of tea, especially as she’s heard that a full bladder can help to get a good scan picture, or is that only in the earlier stages? But then, bursting for a wee on a busy Tube train doesn’t sound like a comfortable experience and it’s not one she fancies risking, so maybe another drink is not such a great idea after all.

She looks at her watch again. Still only ten to. She knows, and so does Jack, that she was being extra cautious in her planning. The walk to the Tube station, and the walk to the hospital at the other end, are easy enough to work out. It’s just the trains themselves that can be temperamental. She opens her phone and checks for the latest updates, but there are no reported delays. She’s panicking over nothing. The whole thing won’t take more than an hour at the most. They still have time if he hurries up and gets here.

It’s three o’clock, and time to give up and call a taxi. But she calls Jack first, just in case he really is almost here, desperate to make it in time, as excited as she is. Apparently not. She listens to his phone ringing and ringing, then his answerphone messaging kicks in.

‘Hi, this is Jack Doherty. Busy right now, but not too busy to call you back. Leave me your name and number.’

Maybe he’s on his way, underground, out of signal. Or right outside the door already and about to put his key in the lock. She moves to the window and peers out. He’s not there. Still, the light-hearted, casual tone to his voice makes her want to yell at him. ‘Busy? Busy doing what?’ Doesn’t he know this appointment matters more? Has he even remembered?

‘Where are you, Jack? We’re going to be late. I’ll have to meet you there now.’ She tries not to sound too annoyed, but she is. This is so typical of him. There’s no real enthusiasm, no excitement in him. Nothing to match the way she feels about this baby. There never has been. ‘Call me back, please.’

He doesn’t.

Chapter 37

Carly

Thank God it’s Friday! It’s been one of those weeks where I’ve been snowed under with work and hardly had any time to breathe. Jack’s IT project has been gathering pace over the last few days, with everything on track to go ‘live’ next week, keeping everyone on their toes, and I can see, whenever I’ve bumped into him, that he’s stressing over it. Soon his three months at Mandrake’s will be over, and he will be gone. I’m still not sure how I feel about that.

I went out with Daz on Wednesday. It really is early days, and I don’t want to do or say anything to jinx it, but let’s just say it went well. He really is a lovely guy, and it’s going to take a while for me to tire of hearing his tales of life in Oz, if I ever do. It all sounds so exciting and exotic, and hot. And so is he, by the way. Hot. No doubt about that. And quite some kisser!

Fran and her new ‘friend’, as she still insists on calling her, were up late last night, talking, drinking, laughing, until about two in the morning. Eating too, I expect, knowing Fran as I do! And the empty tin of Quality Street I spotted in the bin this morning speaks volumes. I don’t know if Miranda stayed the night or got a cab, but there was no sign of her when I got up. No kids with her, I’m pleased to say but, even so, all the happy noises made it hard for me to get to sleep, the walls are that thin. It makes me wonder just how much Fran heard that time – the only time – that Jack was in my bedroom, and I squirm with embarrassment at the memory. There are some things you just don’t want your mates to hear. If things ever get that far with Daz, I’m only going to invite him over when Fran’s out. He is staying in a hotel though, and I’ve always loved a nice hotel room, with crisp white sheets, and little complimentary shampoos, and room service if you fancy a snack and you’re already in your PJs, so you never know…

Jack’s asked me to meet him for a quick catch-up, purely work-related, before the weekend, and I’m heading for our usual meeting room, a pile of print-outs under my arm, and our usual coffee order balanced in my hands. I can’t stop long though. I’ve worked through my lunch hour so I can leave early today and Syd is picking me up outside for a driving lesson after work. Though I say it myself, I think my driving’s going pretty well. We’re talking about booking a theory test soon and then the real thing soon after. Streets of West London, beware!

I’m here first, so I settle myself at the table and spread my paperwork out in front of me. Jack’s good at his job. The old and new payment systems have existed side by side for a few weeks now, making extra work for all of us, but it’s certainly proved that it’s on track and that it works! Whenever I have found a problem, he’s always managed to fix it. It’s just the final push of the button left to do and our old system will vanish into the ether as the new one magically takes its place, or that’s how I like to think of it anyway. If only there was a magic reset button to close down what’s left of Jack and me, and set me off on a brand-new path to love and life, but I guess that’s all down to me now. With a little help from Daz, if I’m lucky.

I wonder if there will be a leaving do for Jack when he goes. Is that likely for a consultant only brought in for a few months’ work? I hope so. I’d like a chance to say goodbye, and without all the angst that surrounded our previous one, five years ago. I want to wave him off without that burning desire to rip his clothes off (well, I tried that and it was a disaster, wasn’t it?) and without the tears in my eyes this time. Not that I can guarantee that, because I did love him and I will miss him. In another time and place, we could have been good together, a proper couple, if only…

The door handle rattles up and down noisily and he finally lunges in, almost tripping over the door frame. I smother a giggle. His clumsy entrances are starting to become a habit. ‘Bloody doorknob,’ he mutters, righting himself. ‘It’s time they got that fixed.’

‘Knobs can be troublesome, Jack.’ I am laughing out loud now. ‘Treat it more like a woman. Less of the firm grip and more of a gentle touch, that’s all it needs.’

‘Yes, I’ll try to remember that,’ he says, grinning as he sits down opposite me and reaches for his coffee. ‘God, Carly, I’ve hardly stopped today. I even forgot to charge my phone last night, I’ve had so much running through my mind. It went flat as a pancake, and I’ve had to leave it plugged in at my desk. I’ve not even managed any lunch, let alone found time for a coffee. So, thanks for this.’ He lifts his cup, takes a long sip and nods. ‘Just the way I like it. Hot and strong.’

‘Don’t say it, Jack.’

‘Say what? That it’s the same way I like my women? Am I really that predictable?’

‘Oh, yes. You really are.’

‘I don’t suppose you’ve brought biscuits as well?’

‘Afraid not. I can run and get some though, if you’re starving.’

‘No, I’ll be okay. Best get some work done. I have to be somewhere else quite soon. With Molly.’ He peers at his watch and shakes his head. ‘I was hoping to get away sooner, but it’s too late now. I won’t make it home in time, but she knows to get a cab without me and I’ll meet her there. So, let’s get on with this, shall we?’

Chapter 38

Jack

Jack sits back in his chair and stretches his shoulders. Things have gone well. There are no problems, no last-minute glitches. The final stage of the project is on track, and then he will be out of here. No more Mandrake’s, no more sleepless nights, no more missing meals, no more Carly.

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