Chapter Twenty
The week passed slowly. Steve continued to grumble at Amber over her carelessness with typing errors, and even Chrissie and Dee weren’t exempt from criticisms.
‘What’s the matter with you, Dee?’ complained Alan Mann, the firm’s matrimonial lawyer. ‘My client’s filing for divorce, but her husband is most definitely not called Joshua.’
Dee had gasped with horror that Josh, constantly on her mind, had somehow been typed into Affidavits and Statements.
On Tuesday, just before lunch, Cougar Kate stalked into the girls’ office to see Chrissie who, as the firm’s secretarial float, helped out all staff with work overflow. Kate’s face bore a distinctly put-out expression. ‘Really, Chrissie. This is the second time I’ve had to point out that Miss Penhalligan is bequeathing her estate. Not her sink estate. What’s up with you?’
On Wednesday, as Amber pounded away at her keyboard listening to Steve droning on about car parking spaces and rights of access, she wondered where Matthew’s car was parked after office hours, and whether some unknown woman was giving her boyfriend her own particular right of access.
By Thursday Dee was thoroughly upset at Josh’s unknown whereabouts. Her fingers constantly itched to phone or text him. She longed to tell him how much he was missed. She’d heard nothing from him at all. She presumed Josh was staying with his parents. Dee wasn’t the biggest fan of Josh’s mum. Anne Coventry had more axes to grind than a medieval executioner at the Tower of London. Josh’s dad, Peter, wasn’t so bad, but he was more mouse than man, and totally under his wife’s big fat thumb. Dee hoped Josh hadn’t put her in a bad light to his parents. Maybe she would pop in at the weekend to say hi, and explain that she and Josh were having a bit of a blip at the moment. She’d reassure them both, tell them she loved their son and was looking forward to him coming home.
On Friday afternoon, Chrissie typed up another Will to help out with Cougar Kate’s supposedly overflowing work tray, even though the wretched woman had been on a personal call when Chrissie had walked into the office she shared with Clive Derek. Clive had been in the boardroom with a client. Kate had been extremely busy cooing into a telephone while she twisted strands of hair around the fingers of her free hand. Chrissie wondered how much extra Kate was paid because she worked for a partner, when she appeared to do naff all most of the time. Sighing, Chrissie had set to work on the document, while her mind wandered to thoughts of Andrew. Her boyfriend was being incredibly pleasant to her at the moment. Not that she’d seen much of him. He had certainly smartened up this week, but it was always to hang out with his mates or “do some jobs”. Chrissie had questioned Andrew over the latter. He’d assured her it was all private electrical work – fixing an intruder light that had been on the blink at a pensioner’s bungalow, or checking a flickering transformer in somebody’s kitchen. She’d sighed with relief that Andrew wasn’t doing dodgy stuff for his cronies. The last thing she wanted was her boyfriend getting busted. His wallet had been full of twenties, and he’d peeled one off telling Chrissie to buy herself something nice. Shocked, she’d taken it. She would put the money towards Madam Rosa’s fee. Chrissie had also been checking out a house rental website. She’d shown Andrew a decent place she was sure they could afford. Andrew had said, ‘We’ll see,’ and she’d been filled with renewed optimism. Things were coming right again. They had to be.
On Saturday lunchtime, the three women met at Amber’s house. As Chrissie stepped over the threshold, she felt her heart sing. Just think, another month or so and maybe she and Andrew would be renting a dear little house like this one. She couldn’t wait. Andrew had even promised he wouldn’t bring the lads back to the maisonette on Saturday while Chrissie was enjoying her girlie sleepover at Amber’s. Chrissie had left the maisonette with more spring in her step than Skippy the kangaroo. In fact, she was privately starting to think that seeing Madam Rosa would be a waste of time and money.
Dee followed Amber and Chrissie into the small tidy kitchen. She hadn’t really wanted to go inside Amber’s house. Every part of her was screaming to get to Madam Rosa’s as soon as possible, even if it meant they were an hour early. Dee wanted information. Was Josh at his parents’ place? Why had he felt the need to pack a suitcase and leave her for a while? Was this really just a blip they were going through? She felt edgy, as if she’d been overdosing on energy drinks.
Amber went to the fridge and pulled out a cling-filmed plate of chicken salad sandwiches that she’d made for them earlier. ‘There we are, girls,’ she said, setting the plate down on her kitchen table. ‘Get your choppers around that little lot. I certainly will be. I’ve had chuff all else to get my choppers around this week.’ She also set down a huge Victoria sponge cake that she’d bought fresh that morning from the local baker’s.
Dee picked a sandwich up and began toying with it. She’d not had any breakfast because she simply hadn’t fancied it. Even now, hours later, she wasn’t really hungry.
‘What’s up?’ asked Amber, noticing her friend’s lack of appetite.
‘Just saving myself for the curry tonight,’ Dee replied. Hopefully by this evening, after listening to positive news from Madam Rosa, she’d be enjoying a korma washed down with a celebratory glass of wine.
‘Anyone had sex this week?’ asked Amber, taking a bite from her own sandwich.
‘How can I when Josh isn’t around?’ asked Dee.
‘So what about without Josh then?’ Amber replied, waggling her eyebrows.
‘Are you kidding?’ Chrissie butted in. ‘Dee is waiting for a grand reunion and a wedding proposal, not a mad passionate fling while Josh is away finding himself, or whatever it is he’s doing. That really would cause a rumpus if he came home early and discovered his girlfriend covered in bacon and eggs and a stranger standing over her with a six-inch sausage.’
Dee sighed. ‘I’m starting to wish I’d never told either of you about my disastrous foray into the world of sex food.’
‘Aww, your secret is safe with us, Dee,’ said Amber. ‘What about you, Chrissie? Any more blocked loos and strange men inviting you to play with their plunger?’
Chrissie swallowed her sandwich and smiled. ‘No, but Andrew and I are getting along fine. He put his arm around me in his sleep last night.’
‘And?’ Amber prompted.
‘And nothing. We spooned. It was nice. I can’t remember the last time we cuddled up together.’
‘Is that it?’ asked Amber, astonished.
‘Small steps,’ Chrissie murmured. She was not going to be rattled by Amber’s disgust at the lack of action between the sheets. It would happen soon enough. She knew it would.
‘Well in the absence of shenanigans with our men,’ Amber paused to pick some salad out of her teeth, ‘have either of you made your own entertainment?’
‘Eh?’ said Chrissie and Dee together.
‘You know,’ Amber gave a saucy wink, ‘as in servicing yourselves. Don’t either of you have a vibrator?’
‘No!’ gasped Dee, as Chrissie began to choke on her sandwich. Dee leant across and thumped Chrissie on the back.
‘You’re missing out, girls,’ said Amber smugly. ‘I have one. It’s upstairs in my bedside drawer.’
‘Does Matthew know?’ asked Dee, her eyes as round as the sandwich plate.
‘Course he does,’ Amber tsked. ‘He bought it for me. It was a joke Valentine’s present last year. We’ve had quite a bit of fun with it. It’s bright pink with a bobbly bit on the end which never fails to find your g-spot, and it’s eight inches long.’
‘I’m crossing my legs thinking about it,’ muttered Chrissie.
‘You’d uncross them in a jiffy if you knew what it was capable of,’ Amber giggled. ‘Anyway, last night I let Matthew know that I was playing with it. I was hoping he might get turned on hearing my groans.’
‘And did he?’ asked Dee.
‘Dunno,’ Amber shrugged. ‘If he was, he kept it to himself. I was pretty incensed actually. Hopefully he was annoyed when I repeatedly screamed out Harry Styles’ name.’
‘Harry Styles?’ Dee looked astonished. ‘Aren’t you a bit old to be lusting after a member of One Direction?’
‘Don’t be cheeky,’ said Amber, looking put out. ‘I’m not that much older than him. Also, Harry Styles likes the more mature woman. When he had his fling with Caroline Flack she was practically old enough to be his mother. Anyway, upon climaxing I yelled Harry’s name several times, and then I began singing “Abide With Me”.’
‘Abide with me?’ asked Dee.
‘Yes. As in the song.’
‘It wasn’t Harry Styles who sang that,’ said Chrissie. ‘It was Harry Secombe.’
‘Bugger,’ Amber sighed. ‘Next time I’ll shout out Matthew’s brother’s name. That will really wind him up.’
‘That’s dangerous territory,’ Dee warned. ‘You’ll never get a marriage proposal if he thinks you’re lusting after his brother.’
‘I’m starting to feel rebellious,’ Amber grumbled. ‘Come on, girls. We’ve still got time for a slice of cake before we go.’ She stood up and fished in a drawer for a slicer. ‘Look at this,’ she smiled, licking her lips as jam and butter icing oozed from the sponge. ‘Next time I go to bed with my vibrator I might imagine this moment and yell out, “Victoria, Victoria!” Hopefully, Matthew might then come roaring back into our bed and persuade me to be straight again.’
Chrissie and Dee laughed at Amber poking fun at her situation, even though Amber’s heart was heavier than a dozen boxed Victoria sponges all stacked together.