‘Pleased to meet you,’ I mumble. ‘Sorry about my appearance. I’ve been for a run. I’ll just dash and change…’
‘Oh please don’t on my account. I’m in my old things anyway.’ She stands languorously and offers me her hand. She is much taller than me, and I feel horribly dumpy: a clumsy little figure next to her blonde elegance. ‘It’s great to exercise when we’re not feeling our best, isn’t it?’
But Matthew always tells me he loves my body, I remind myself firmly. He likes my curves and my tummy.
‘Okay.’ I wish my hand didn’t look so red knuckled and rough skinned in her pretty white one, her nails perfectly shaped and polished pearly pink. ‘I like your outfit.’
‘So – the next Mrs King! Enjoying married life? The kids have told me all about you.’
‘Yes, thanks.’ I try to smile. ‘Good things, I hope.’
‘Wellll…’ She pauses. Her laugh is shrill when she clocks the expression I fail to hide. ‘Of course good things!’
‘Fancy a coffee, Jeanie, hon?’ Matthew seems exhilarated somehow. ‘I’ll grab another cup from the kitchen.’
‘Thanks,’ I say, but what I really mean of course is: PLEASE don’t leave me with the predator.
‘I understand it’s a first for you – marriage?’ Her smile is tight. ‘The old wedding bells. Except you must have done it civilly, no?’
‘O-ho!’ Hand on the door, Matthew laughs. ‘Been doing your homework, Kaye?’
‘Naturally.’ Kaye’s smooth face attempts the stretch to a wider smile. ‘Obviously I wanted to know who our kids were hanging out with. Any mother would, wouldn’t they?’ She looks at me for agreement.
‘I guess so,’ I say carefully.
‘Cos we all know about wicked stepmothers, eh? Poor old Cinders and all that. You just can’t be too careful these days, can you?’ The door swings shut behind Matthew, and I am sure her eyes narrow further. ‘I mean you of all people should know that, shouldn’t you, Jeanie?’
Please don’t, I think. Please don’t.
But she does. I’ve known it was coming from the minute I stepped into the room. She is a big, sleek cat waiting for the kill.
‘So how did you two meet?’ She sips her coffee through perfectly glossed lips. Kaye isn’t perfect, I know that really, I know no one is – but she gives a good impression of being so. She has me over a barrel, and she is going to enjoy every last minute of it.
I can taste the salt of my own dried sweat on my lips. ‘At an office party,’ I say. I wonder what he’s told her.
‘It’s a shame you managed to poison my dog.’
Jesus! As Marlena would say: You can take the girl out of the estate, but you can’t take the…
‘Joke!’ Kaye guffaws. Liar. ‘Your face!’
‘I didn’t poison your dog.’ I stand taller. ‘It was a horrible accident – and I’m very sorry he died.’
‘It’s hard to admit you were a bit – lax, I’m sure, when the kids were so gutted’—she pats my arm generously—‘but I believe you if you say it was accidental.’
‘Well it’s the truth.’ I meet her slit-eyed gaze. ‘It was nothing to do with me. It was just unfortunate.’
‘And you always tell the truth?’
‘Yes.’ We look at each other. ‘What makes you say that?’
‘I always Google new boyfriends. It pays to know who you’re shagging. Do you think my ex-husband would do the same?’
‘I don’t know…’
‘Men are such fools, aren’t they?’
‘Are they?’ I say with all the dignity I can manage. ‘I’ve never particularly found that.’
‘I find girls much easier than boys. Luke’s a pain.’
‘Oh he’s a sweet boy,’ I object. ‘Very well meaning and kind.’
‘And a tiny little bit of a – dud. Let’s be honest.’ She stares at me.
God! Her own son. I am sweating again.
‘I’m only joking, silly!’ But her laugh is flat and fake. ‘I’m glad you take step-parenting so seriously.’ She nods at my book on the coffee table. I feel the heat rising up my back in shame. My silly step-parenting manual. Why have I left it out for all to see?
Because I thought I was safe here, I suppose.
‘He’s nice. Luke. They’re both – nice kids,’ I bluster.
‘Oh I know, lovely. I know.’ Kaye pulls out a slim packet of expensive-looking cigarettes. ‘But kids are hard work, aren’t they? Even for kiddie fiddlers, I expect.’
Breezily she clamps a baby-pink cigarette between scarlet lips.
‘I’ve always enjoyed working with young people.’ I find myself very calm. ‘I like to think I’ve always taken my job very seriously.’
‘That’s good.’ Kaye digs around again, producing a gold lighter from her trouser pocket. ‘I suppose they always claim, “It’s not what it seems, officer.” But hey, we weren’t born yesterday, were we, Jeanie? Can I call you Jeanie?’
‘Sure.’ If Marlena were here, she’d give me a kick up the arse for being so feeble. Summoning all my courage, I say, ‘It’s no smoking in here actually.’
‘Oh?’ The lighter in Kaye’s manicured hand has an inscription on it; I can’t quite read it.