Chapter Thirty-Nine
Once inside her apartment, Dee slipped off her coat and shoes. It had been a hectic day. In addition to her own work for Alan Mann, she’d had to help out both Steve Hood and Clive Derek.
Dee glanced at the console table in the hallway. It now held a stack of mail for Josh. The pile had steadily grown as the week progressed. On the advice of Harry, Dee had removed the postcard she’d lifted from Anne and Peter Coventry’s house.
‘Don’t alert your boyfriend to anything,’ Harry had advised. ‘The element of surprise is key when catching someone out.’ The postcard was now in a secret place.
Dee padded off to the kitchen and put the kettle on. Leaving it to slowly work its way to the boil, she went into the bathroom. Turning on the tub’s taps, she added some luxury bubble bath her mum had given her for Christmas. The flowery scent blended with clouds of steam, and she sniffed appreciatively. Leaving the bath to fill, she went back to the kitchen and made her cup of tea. She’d have her bath, then settle down in front of the telly with a microwave dinner. Tonight she would chillax with the hunky farmer boys from Emmerdale. Dee couldn’t decide who she liked most – gorgeous Ross Barton or that sexy bit of rough, Cain Dingle.
Taking the tea into the bathroom, she placed the mug carefully on the sink and then stripped off. Testing the foaming water with one foot, she decided the temperature was perfect. Picking up the tea, Dee sank down with a groan of ecstasy. She let the bubbles wash over her tummy as she slurped from the mug. Perfect. She was just taking another sip, when she froze. What was that noise? She sat up, mug of tea suspended, ears straining for clues. There it was again. Someone was outside the flat’s front door and jangling keys. Seconds later, Dee’s worst fears were confirmed as the flat’s door creaked back on its hinges. Damn. The bathroom door was wide open and here she was absolutely starkers in the bath!
‘Hello?’ called a familiar male voice.
Bugger. Dee hadn’t known how things would play out when Josh eventually came home, but one thing she had assumed was that when it did happen she would be prepared – as in fully-clothed, wearing make-up, and with newly washed hair, not open-pored from steam, or sporting smudged mascara, and most definitely not naked. She sank beneath the bubbles as Josh came into the bathroom.
‘Hi,’ he said, as if no drama between them had ever occurred.
‘Er, I’m not decent.’
‘You look pretty decent to me,’ he said, with a leer. His eyes flicked to the foam covering her body. She followed his gaze and was horrified to see her nipples poking out of the bubbles, like two twin satellite dishes. Dee grabbed a flannel and put it over her boobs. Why was Josh looking lustful, when only a week ago he’d said he didn’t fancy her?
‘I’m home,’ he said, grinning.
‘Nothing like stating the obvious,’ Dee replied. Her tone was indifferent, as if his absence and the upset he’d caused had been nothing more than a blip on the radar of Dee’s life – and a very insignificant blip at that.
‘Sorry about…well…you know.’ He gave a small shrug.
‘No, I don’t know.’ What was this? An apology for flying off to Tenerife for a week’s bonking with a woman called Emma?
Josh moved over to the toilet, put the lid down and perched. ‘The thing is I…I think I’ve been having…I mean was having…a mid-life crisis.’
‘You’re not yet thirty. Aren’t you rather young for one of those?
‘Well, better to get it over and done with, eh!’ Josh’s eyes locked on hers and he smiled. It was the sort of slow, sexy grin he used to give Dee in the old days. Back then it had turned her to mush. Right now, it was having zero effect. Josh noticed. He dropped the smile and moved smartly on. ‘The thing is, I’ve missed you. I needed time out from our relationship to…well…make sure we are the real deal.’
Dee couldn’t believe she was hearing this. She’d fully expected Josh to return home and demand they put the flat on the market. What was this? Sweet words of crap to pave the way for Josh sliding seamlessly back into their old life together? And how did Emma figure in all this? Dee mentally retrieved Josh’s postcard from its hiding place and re-read it.
‘Having a wonderful much-needed break from the Undomestic Dog-ess...
The cheeky sod.
Not looking forward to sorting things out once back…
In other words dumping Dee.
…blah blah… Emma. She can’t wait to meet you.
Yes, the new girlfriend had been waiting to meet Josh’s charmless mother and hen-pecked father. Anne and Peter Coventry must have known about this Emma woman ever since Josh had started his relationship with her – whenever that was. Dee didn’t need the likes of Harrison Hunter-Brown to point out that in the last couple of days – maybe even the last few hours – something had gone wrong between the lovebirds.
‘So the thing is, darling–’
‘Josh, sorry to interrupt, but could you take this, please?’ Dee held out the mug of tea. There was no way she could drink it lying horizontal in the bath while trying to keep her body covered by bubbles.
‘Of course.’ Josh sprang up and took the mug. ‘Would you like me to soap your back?’ he asked, a gleam in his eye.
‘No.’
‘Okay.’ He sat back down on the loo. ‘So, as I was saying, I’d like to start afresh.’
Dee looked at Josh in confusion. ‘Start afresh?’ Oh, hang on. Was this his way of saying, “Sorry to be the bearer of bad news, but I’m replacing you with a woman called Emma. She has bigger tits than you, a better bum, and she isn’t an Undomesticated Dog-ess.” Dee could feel her lip curling.
‘Yes, start afresh,’ Josh repeated. ‘I want to put our little misunderstanding behind us, and forget it ever happened.’
‘What exactly did happen?’ asked Dee carefully. As far as she was concerned, she’d had a boyfriend who’d become increasingly distant with her for no fathomable reason. When she’d tried to reignite his interest, it had backfired spectacularly. So much so, Josh had packed a bag and jetted out of the country.
‘Well…um…like I said…I had a bit of a mid-life crisis.’
‘Define “mid-life crisis”,’ she said in a cold voice.
‘Just…just doubting everything.’
‘As in doubting us?’
‘Yes,’ Josh nodded, ‘that’s it, as in wondering if,’ his brow furrowed with concentration, ‘making sure we were absolutely right for each other.’
‘You mean,’ Dee feigned puzzlement, ‘in case there might be somebody else out there who was more suited?’
Josh blanched. Dee could see the thought processes going on in his head. He was easier to read than a child’s early learning book. For a moment he looked anxious, fretting that he might have showed his hand regarding Emma. ‘N-no,’ he stuttered, ‘I always thought you were the right woman for me, Dee.’
‘So why the need to disappear for a week?’
‘Just to…you know…be absolutely sure you’re still the right woman for me,’ he finished lamely. ‘Which you are.’
Dee glared at him. ‘Your skin has a lovely colour.’
‘Yeah,’ said Josh, his eyes slithering away. ‘Getting a tan is one of the perks of window cleaning and being outdoors.’
‘It’s January.’
‘It’s wind burn.’
‘It’s bollocks.’
‘Pardon?’
‘You heard me. Where have you really been, Josh?’
‘At my mum and dad’s.’
‘Strange. You weren’t there when I went round to see you.’
‘I was at work.’
‘Not according to your charming mother,’ Dee smiled sweetly, and was pleased to note Josh’s Adam’s apple yo-yo nervously up and down his windpipe. ‘Your mother spoke to me like a Rottweiler on amphetamines. She said you’d gone away to have a good rest from me, and that if you had any sense you wouldn’t come back – from Tenerife,’ she added. The last two words were a bluff. Anne Coventry had said no such thing, but a spiteful part of Dee wanted to drop Anne in it for the way she’d treated her.
‘Ha ha ha,’ Josh attempted laughing. ‘Good old Mum. She does like a joke.’
‘Nobody was laughing.’
‘Take no notice of her, Dee. She’s old. She’s probably starting dementia.’
‘Must run in the family then, eh?’
‘Sorry?’
‘You seem to have total amnesia about how you got your sun tan.’
‘Look, why don’t you finish having your bath and we’ll go out to dinner. I’ll order a bottle of bubbly, and we’ll have a proper talk. Cards on the table.’
Dee was brought up short. Cards on the table. Her mind zoomed back to last Saturday’s reading with Madam Rosa, selecting tarot cards that had been strewn across the clairvoyant’s occasional table. A major shake-up, Madam Rosa had said, and the ending of a long-term relationship. But right now, it sounded like Josh wanted to make major amends – which was contradictory to the card reading. In which case, had Madam Rosa got it all wrong?