Page 50 of Out of Control

“He came round on Boxing Day. With a present. Well, I think the chocolates were just an excuse — he’d forgotten to remove a gift tag addressed to him that was hidden in the folds of the wrapping paper, so he was regifting — and really he wanted to talk about you.” Dorothea paused, as if for dramatic effect. “I think he is available — to you, anyway. And please trust him with your . . . history. He’s a good man.”

“What?” Fiona’s brain cartwheeled.

Dorothea spoke again before Fiona could engage logic. “Meeko saw you and Rob together and he heard something he didn’t like.”

Her mother’s accusatory tone put Fiona on the defensive about her brief encounters with her ex-husband. She felt like a little girl caught with her hand in the biscuit tin. She tried to channel her inner grown-up. She’d done nothing wrong. She remembered her sighting of Meeko walking away from One More Bean. “And what did he hear?”

“Something about you not trusting him.”

Fiona felt like a skittle caught full-on by a bowling ball. “Of course I trust him.” Then Dorothea’s other declaration hit home. “And how is Meeko available? He told me he’d sworn off meeting women for the time being.”

“He has designs on you.”

“He actually said that?” Now the skittle was horizontal and skimming across a highly polished surface towards oblivion. This wasn’t making sense. The words circled in her head —He is available. He has designs on you.He thinks you don’t trust him.

There was a thud as Joe kicked open the lounge door. Both women jumped. Dorothea’s sudden wide-eyed expression made Fiona confident that her mother wouldn’t breathe a word of this in Joe’s presence. He carried in three mugs held in two fists, slopping brown liquid as he bent to put them on the coffee table. Dorothea placed a protective hand over the baby still sleeping in the crook of her other arm. Joe disappeared again and came back with a small red cardboard box. “I managed to find the last of the mince pies.” He pulled a moulded plastic tray from the box and offered the pies, in their foil cups, to Fiona and Dorothea.

“I’ll swap you,” said the old lady, looking fixedly at Joe. “You take Natalie while I eat and drink.”

“No. Let me go first. I eat quicker than you.” After licking the pastry crumbs from his fingers with satisfaction, he spoke again. “Rose was always anti shop-bought mince pies but they’re nearly as good as homemade, aren’t they?”

Turn the knife a little further in the Rose v. Fiona scorecard, why don’t you? Or did you overhear the talk about Meeko from the kitchen and now you’re getting your own back?

“My daughter is perfectly capable of making mince pies that are a hundred times better than these.” Dorothea’s voice was strong and she was staring defiantly at Joe. “But she’s been rather busy with house guests lately.”

Fiona found herself sitting up straighter and grinning at her mother. These rare words of praise would sit in her mind like pearls. What had she done to earn both Adele and Dorothea on her side?

Just before midnight Joe insisted on opening the prosecco. “We can’t let the moment go unmarked. Shall I wake Adele?”

“No!” Fiona and Dorothea spoke in unison.

Joe gave an exaggerated performance of being cowed by the majority verdict. “Resolutions?” he asked as Big Ben stopped chiming from the TV and the fireworks started, both on screen and with huge bangs outside. The sudden loud noises made Fiona glance apprehensively at Natalie but she slept on.

“To get out more,” declared Dorothea. “I’m going to check whether there’s an age limit on volunteering on the children’s or maternity wards. Being with Adele and Natalie is doing me a power of good. Young people keep you young.” Fiona was silently impressed.

Joe took his turn next. “I guess I should say, be a good granddad. But I want to build onallthe important relationships in my life, and especially with my significant other.” He put down his glass, took Fiona’s from her as well and kissed her passionately and embarrassingly in front of her mother. If Dorothea had been a ten-year-old boy instead of an octogenarian, she would have been sticking two fingers in her mouth and making gagging noises. After everything Fiona had recently witnessed from Joe, she felt like doing that herself. She pulled away from him. He frowned and then asked about her resolutions.

“Making the most of my time now I’m retired,” she said lamely, while mentally quaking at what the events of the evening had actually made her want to do: get to the bottom of the Meeko bombshell her mother had dropped and ask Joe to leave.She crossed her fingers that the latter could be achieved without destroying her links to Adele and Natalie.

Chapter 36

Christmas and New Year’s Eve had been the bleakest Meeko had ever known. Except for his Boxing Day visit to Dorothea, he had spoken to no one. In previous years Lynn had been there and there’d been classes to teach. This year the hotel had taken the penny-pinching action of making all classes in Christmas week virtual online recordings supplied by head office. And Fiona had been out of bounds.

There were three reasons why he hadn’t accepted her Christmas Day invitation. Firstly, Joe’s presence meant there was no Meeko-sized hole for him. Joe had barged in permanently, albeit as the consequence of a flood rather than a positive move on his part, and Fiona had accepted him. Secondly, Fiona had told her ex-husband that she didn’t trust Meeko. Thirdly, he couldn’t accept festive hospitality while giving only second-hand chocolates in return. Adding all of that to his job problems meant this was going to be one of the worst years ever.

Over the last few days, he’d attempted to learn more about Tarot from books and the internet and he’d asked it about his future — several times, in order to get a conclusive view. To his untrained eye, the cards’ verdict indicated he should talk honestly with people. That had become his new year’s resolution, to be carried out today.

On Boxing Day, Dorothea had intimated that there were things about Fiona’s divorce from Rob that she wasn’t at liberty to tell him. Things that he ought to know in order to fully understand his best friend, but Fiona had to be the one to tell him those things. Following the cards’ direction to talk honestly, he had to ask her about the past in order to fix the future and to sort out her lack of trust in him.

He’d texted Fiona to invite her to run with him. Apparently, it was easier to talk when side by side rather than face to face, which was why strangers on trains so frequently exchanged life stories. Meeko thought that was also helped by knowing the other person would never be seen again, but it was worth a try. Fiona had replied almost instantaneously, which made him think she’d been waiting for his message and hadn’t needed to give his invitation any consideration. He wasn’t sure whether this was good or bad. He wasn’t sure about anything in their relationship anymore.

They’d agreed to meet at the park, five minutes from Fiona’s house. The nerves kicked in as he saw her approach out of the murk of the wintry morning. She stopped a couple of feet away and neither took a step closer to go in for their usual hug.

“Happy New Year,” she said.

“And to you.” They were speaking with the formality of strangers.

She rubbed her arms vigorously and gave a little jog on the spot. “Shall we start?”

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