Page 48 of The Price of Love
There was much shaking of heads among the boys and muttering like a Greek chorus. ‘I’ll do it.’ Jazz eventually stood up. ‘As long as it reallyisjust holding her hand. I don’t want to have to look at anything nasty.’
‘Don’t worry, that’s my job.’ The thankful midwife whisked Jazz in through the doorway. I hoped that Bree was too far gone in labour to protest. Jazz had never even so much as seen her in a bikini.
Cal sidled over to me and held out a coffee. ‘Peace offering. Although I’m notquitesure why, but I got the feeling back at the house that maybe we’d declared hostilities?’
I swallowed a scalding mouthful. ‘I’ve seen the condom.’
‘As far as statements go, I usually prefer “I’ve seen the light”. But, anyway, go on, tell me about this’ — he lowered his voice, conscious of the fact that, in a maternity ward the word condom is probably not to be spoken — ‘item. Where have you seen it and what is it to do with me?’
‘Backseat of your car. Which, unless you’re in the habit of picking up ladies who charge by the hour, puts you firmly in Infidelity Land.’
Cal stared at me. ‘Just a minute. You’re accusing me of shagging some girl, then leaving a used Durex on the backseat of mycar? How big a slut do you think I am? No, don’t answer that. I already know I’m not exactlyGood Housekeeping’s Bachelor of the Year, but, urrrggghh, Willow.’
I dropped my eyes and drank more coffee to cover my confusion. ‘Well, what was I supposed to think? I mean, itlooksused and everything.’
‘Itisused, you bloody stupid woman.’ But his voice was softly amused. ‘I put components into condoms to transport them. Water can wreak havoc with computer bits, and the small ones get lost so easily. I tuck them inside a Durex and they’re waterproof, easy to find and’ — confidentially — ‘they can’t get you pregnant. Right, you finish your coffee. I must have a word with Ash. I think we might have a bit of ground to make up, him and me.’
And he left me standing, plastic cup melting into my fingers, feeling a complete tit.
Chapter Twenty
‘A little girl, six-pounds-ten,’ I announced to Katie on my slightly late arrival at work next morning. ‘Born at twenty to two, a couple of weeks early, but mother and baby doing well, although Jazz has got a big bruise on his forehead from where he fainted onto the gas-and-air machine.’
‘Jazz?’ Katie hesitated her fingers over her keyboard like a stop-frame animation. ‘What was Jazz doing there?’
‘Long story.’ I threw my coat at the back of the chair. Today, I was determined to be bright and breezy, to push any thoughts of those mobile messages to the back of my mind. To concentrate not onpossibilities, but onactualities. ‘Have you still got that furniture catalogue you brought in when you were buying a new wardrobe?’
‘I think I filed it.’
‘Good. I want to start choosing stuff for the flat.’
‘Yes.’ Katie grinned at me. ‘Nice big bed with handcuff-compliant headboard, two-seater sofa and a champagne bucket. What more do you need?’
‘It’ll do for now.’ Besides, with those few necessary items installed, perhaps Luke and I could think of moving in. Together.
‘So, give me all the details about last night.’ Katie tapped a final key and swivelled her chair around to face me. ‘Was it fantastic?’
‘I don’t know aboutfantastic.’ I thought back to last night. To the lightness of Cal’s touch on my face, the intense, breath-holding elasticity of the kiss. ‘It was a bit confusing. I mean, half the time he treats me as if I’m a slightly amusing diversion, and the other half, he makes me feel like I’m the sexiest woman alive.’
‘What?’
‘Cal. He . . . oh. You meant Bree’s baby. That was . . . um . . . yes, very Madonna. I mean, mother-and-baby Madonna, not pointy-bra and “Like a Virgin”. Well, obviously not like a virgin. Otherwise we wouldn’t have been there and—’
‘Willow. Shut up. Now, tell me about this making you feel like the sexiest woman alive, and what Cal has got to do with it.’
A quick check to make sure that Neil and Clive weren’t knuckling their way around the outer office picking fleas off each other, and then I gave Katie the whole story, or at least the edited highlights thereof. I cut out the misunderstanding about the condom, obviously, and any mention of odd messages on Luke’s mobile. I’d just got to the bit about getting home to find Bree in labour, when the phone, on what is laughingly described as my desk, rang.
‘Willow?’ It was Luke, sounding breathless and disturbed. ‘I’ve been trying to get you all morning.’
‘I was out with the dogs, then I dropped in at the hospital. Sorry.’ Then I wondered why I was apologising. After all, wasn’t this man two-timing me? ‘My sister was having a baby.’
‘Only it occurred to me that you might ummmm . . .’ Still disturbed, very nervous. Not at all Luke-like, in fact. ‘Is there any chance that you . . . yesterday, might you have borrowed my phone?’
My mouth opened and closed a few times like a guppy feeding frenzy. ‘Well, I’m really sorry but I was worried about Bree, and I know I should have asked you but you weren’t about and Cal just guessed your passcode and—’
Luke clearly wasn’t listening and talked over the top of me. ‘Only I noticed some messages had been accessed, and I was worried that you might have . . . that you could have got a wrong impression.’
My heart entered freefall. ‘Mmmm?’
