Page 62 of Out of Control

“Morning dress,” she repeated. “Like you’re wearing in the wedding photo in your flat.”

“Oh, that! The happy couple provided that for me and whisked it away again at the end of the day.”

“You cannot go to a wedding at the best hotel in London wearing mismatched clothes. Even if everyone is too polite to comment it will be captured in the photos and be there as evidence —forever.” She deliberately emphasised the last word.

“I’m not buying some poncey suit to wear just once. I’m broke, remember?”

“A suit maketh a man. Not poncey at all. Most women adore a man wearing any sort of smart suit — it has a similar effect to a uniform.”

“Oh?” Now he appeared to be giving it some consideration.

Fiona pictured him in a tailcoat with pressed trousers, shiny black shoes and a carnation in his buttonhole. Warmth flooded her body and she knew it would take a concentrated effort to keep things on a platonic footing if he scrubbed up as well as she expected.

“How much do these magic suits cost?” he continued.

“Too much. But,” she paused, wanting to word this correctly so he didn’t feel she was offering charity, “I’ll hire one for you. It’s cheaper and I want to thank you for including me in this posh outing.”

He squeezed her hand and a shot of electricity darted up it. “No thanks are necessary. I absolutely want you there.”

A fierce heat was burning inside her. “I think we can order online and hopefully get it delivered by Saturday morning.”

“I need it by Friday. The accommodation is the night before the weddingandthe night of the wedding.”

Fiona wasn’t sure her self-control was up to the challenge of two nights alone with Meeko, but still she didn’t have the guts to question the sleeping arrangements in detail. “It’s Tuesday now!”

They found a hire site offering expedited delivery for a fee. Fiona located her tape measure to check Meeko’s sizing. Adele appeared just as Fiona was wondering how she was going to manage the inside leg manoeuvre. “Adele! Would you do the honours please? I’m too old to be kneeling down or bending over.”

Adele caught her eye and winked. “Too embarrassed, you mean. You had no trouble getting down on the floor earlier to sort out Natalie’s baby gym.” But she took the tape that Fiona was thrusting at her.

Fiona completed the order form, added her credit card details and pressed ‘Pay’. She was promised delivery to Meeko’s flat before 7 p.m. the following day.

Chapter 43

The next morning Fiona’s phone pinged with a task reminder:Contact female gambling support group ready for Monday 13th meeting with Rob.It gave her a surge of positivity. She was learning that to safeguard her mental health and satisfy her craving for purpose, external projects were essential. She was discovering the joy in friends and family, even ‘by proxy’ family, but she would always need something outside of that to continue functioning happily as Fiona Ormeroyd.

A quick search on the internet brought up the charity’s website and a range of ‘contact us’ options. Fiona glanced at her watch: it was only 7.30 a.m. and the chances of anyone picking up the phone were slim. She composed an email outlining what she and Rob were trying to achieve via their proposed talks, how they’d also like to campaign and raise funds for a female-only support group in their local area, and how grateful they’d be to receive any advice on the way forward.

After pressing ‘send’ she heard the floorboards creak into life in Adele’s bedroom above the kitchen. Then there were footsteps on the stairs before a crumpled Adele came into the kitchen and picked up the kettle. “Miracles do happen! She only woke me once during the night and I managed to get her straight back down after feeding and changing her. It feels like I’ve had the best, deepest sleep ever.” She paused while water pounded from the tap into the kettle. “And twelve months ago, I never thought I would say that after waking up just before eight a.m.”

Fiona passed her mug when Adele indicated she was offering tea. “You’ve done brilliantly,” she said, and then realised they hadn’t yet broached the subject of Adele’s half-finished degree, student loans, accommodation and all the other baggage that comes with abandoning a degree course. She watched Adele swirl teabags and add milk to mugs. “Talking about uni . . . AndI’m not trying to throw you out by mentioning this,” Fiona added hurriedly. “But what happens next?”

Adele gave a rueful smile and pointed to the ceiling with an upside-down teaspoon. “The earliest I could go back is the autumn term. There is an onsite crèche and I could get a flat. But all that needs money. If I don’t finish my degree, I’m potentially ruining our futures. So . . . I’ve found a couple of bursaries to apply for and I’m investigating whether I qualify for an increased student loan or even a grant. Depending on childcare here, I might be able to get a casual job for a couple of months before September. If I can raise the finances, I’m going back in September, with Natalie, to retake my second year and then do the final year.”

Fiona was impressed. “I can help with childcare on a casual, ad hoc basis,” she said slowly. She wanted to help but she didn’t want to commit vast amounts of time to something that would only fulfil a small part of her current needs.

Adele finished her mug of tea and ate a bowl of cereal before the squawks started from above. She took care to rinse her bowl out before going upstairs to her daughter. Fiona turned back to her laptop; there was already a reply from the gambling support group inviting her and Rob to visit them to find out more. A research visit — again she experienced a ripple of excitement. She had a purpose, and someone to share that purpose. And the new Rob was surprisingly easy to be with. She’d expected him to bring out the negativity within her but the opposite was happening. Plus, there was Meeko and the wedding to come, and the unspoken but mutual attraction between them. And the big risk attached to that.

Chapter 44

They travelled down to London by train, arriving mid-afternoon Friday, and checked straight into the hotel. The room was the largest Fiona had ever seen; the bathroom was more than twice the size of her own at home and boasted two sinks.

“Why?” she said to Meeko. “Washing isn’t a team sport.”

He pointed to the elephant in the room: the one king-size bed.

She swallowed hard and tried to keep her face expressionless.Don’t moan. Meeko wants you to enjoy this and someone else is paying for it. Go with the flow, that was your intention when you accepted the invitation. It’s too late to change things.

“I could ask at reception,” Meeko said. “Sometimes these can be split into twin beds. Would that be more comfortable?”

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