Mark drove home fast, cursing his thoughtlessness all the way there. He’d gone behind Mel’s back. There was no point in denying it. The whys and wherefores wouldn’t matter to Mel. He had. And he was sorry. But if Mel imagined, for one minute, that he would ever use anything that had happened between them as an excuse to… No way. Mel must know him well enough to know he would never risk losing his family, losing her.
Pulling haphazardly up on the drive, he took a breath and then pushed through the front door, cautioning himself to calm down. He was the one at fault here. He had no idea what was going on with Mel – he was worried about her, now more than ever – but, whatever his motives, he’d obviously made the situation a whole lot worse.
‘Daddeee!’ Poppy greeted him as usual, gleefully barrelling into him as he stepped into the hall, closely followed by Hercules, who seemed to be back on form.
Mark patted the dog and then scooped Poppy up into his arms. She was in her pyjamas, also as usual. The make-up though? Mark studied his daughter’s glossy red lips and smoky grey eye shadow with bemusement.
‘I’m beautiful!’ Poppy announced, pressing her small hands to her blushed cheeks and beaming at him.
Mark widened his eyes. ‘Undoubtedly.’ He smiled, pressing a kiss carefully to her nose so as not to smudge her. ‘Where’s Mummy?’
‘Trying her wardrobe on,’ Poppy supplied.
‘Ah,’ Mark nodded. ‘Not sure it will suit her, but…’
‘Not really the wardrobe, silly.’ Poppy rolled her eyes. ‘She’s trying some clothes on so she can look gorgeous.’
Mark quietly thanked God for the apparent normalcy – apart from Poppy’s makeover – that seemed to prevail. ‘In which case, I’d better go up and make myself gorgeous in case I’m too scruffy to be seen out with her.’ He smiled, turning for the stairs.
‘Wait.’ Poppy jiggled and pointed to the lounge, where Scooby-Doo was in full swing, judging by the sounds from the TV. ‘Mummy said I could watch the end of my programme.’
‘Bed as soon as it’s finished,’ Mark said, lowering her to the floor. Straightening up, he watched her scoot back to the lounge, and then turned back to the stairs with a shake of his head – and stopped dead.
‘Well?’ Mel asked, searching his face as she paused partway down.
‘Um…’ Loosening his collar, Mark looked her slowly over, taking in the five-inch heels, the long shapely legs, the tight, short red dress that fitted her every curve, and which Mel had previously declared made her look tarty. Mark had disagreed, he recalled, assuring her it made her look red-hot. His gaze travelled higher, pausing at her breasts over the low-cut neckline, and then upwards to her face. She was wearing makeup – plenty of it, unusually. It was the hair that really grabbed his attention, though.
‘Wow,’ he said.
‘Wow in a good way, or a bad way?’ Mel asked, studying him carefully. From her expression, however, Mark felt she wasn’t seeking his approval.
‘Good,’ he assured her. ‘You look… stunning.’ He didn’t lie. She looked breathtaking. Slightly perturbing, though, was that she didn’t look like Mel. Mark didn’t dare say he’d loved her hair the way it was, a fiery hot copper.
‘I thought I’d try a new look,’ Mel said. ‘Variety’s the spice of life, after all,’ she added, holding his gaze as she joined him in the hall. ‘Isn’t it?’
Noting the innuendo in her tone, Mark wasn’t sure what to say. He’d hoped to apologise, but here in the hall, with Mel scrutinising him, a defiant expression on her face, and Jade looking on from the galleried landing, didn’t seem quite the right time.
‘I’d, er, better get changed,’ he said, nodding upwards. ‘I’ll be two minutes.’ Smiling uncertainly, Mark headed on up, puzzling over this change in Mel. She’d smiled back, but… there had been something there, hiding beneath her cheerful expression. But she did look good, fantastic, and she seemed in control. Mark couldn’t help thinking it was forced though, that she seemed to be working hard at it.
Meeting Jade at the top, on her way into the nursery, Mark followed her in to have a quick check on Evie. Finding her sleeping, he breathed a sigh of relief, and turned back to the door, almost falling into Jade in the process. He hadn’t realised she was standing behind him.
‘Sorry,’ he said, catching hold of her forearms as she stumbled backwards. ‘Did I hurt you?’
‘No,’ she assured him. ‘Shhhh.’ She smiled, pressing a finger to her lips and gesturing him out of the room.
‘You’d better get a move on,’ she whispered, once they were on the landing, pointing down to where Mel was now heading for the lounge, calling Hercules to go out for a wee as she went, ‘or you’ll be in even more trouble.’
Clearly he was in trouble then. ‘Yeah, I think I might have some apologising to do.’ He smiled half-heartedly, guessing that Mel had ‘shared’ with her what an idiot he’d been.
‘Chocolates,’ Jade suggested. ‘They work for me.’
Mark nodded and dipped his head in appreciation. Chocolates were a no. With Poppy’s dairy allergy, they made it a rule not to have any in the house. Maybe flowers, he thought, and then wondered how they might be interpreted.
‘If it’s any consolation, I gathered you were just trying to get a female perspective,’ Jade offered astutely.
‘I was. Backfired a bit, though, didn’t it?’ Mark rolled his eyes at his own ineptitude. ‘I’ll try a grovelling apology, I think. And the most expensive thing on the menu. We shouldn’t be too late back,’ he said turning to the main bedroom. ‘You have all the numbers in case of emergencies, yes?’
‘All to hand,’ Jade assured him. ‘I’ll ring you if I need to, but don’t worry. I’m sure there won’t be any problems.’
Twenty-Seven
JADE
Well, there wouldn’t be any problems here. As for what might happen in the restaurant…
Jade watched Mark walk towards his bedroom, looking troubled, as he would be by his wife’s peculiar behaviour and trollopy appearance. Then, humming softly to herself, she headed along the landing to her own room, where she retrieved a shoebox from the top of her wardrobe. Pondering the side effects of the various drugs, she was replacing the packet of slow-release capsules under the few bits of memorabilia she kept there when someone tapped lightly on her door.
Quickly snapping the lid back on the shoebox, Jade stuffed it well back on the shelf. It was Mark at the door – Melissa always called out ‘just me’ in an irritating singsong voice. Jade’s mouth curved into a smile. Turning for the door, she hitched her T-shirt over her head, tugged it off and unsnapped her bra. Then, reaching for the dressing gown Melissa had so kindly provided her, she pushed her arms into it, holding it loosely enough at the front to expose a good expanse of milky white breast as she yanked the door open.
‘Oh, my!’ Jade blinked, suitably mortified, as Mark got the desired eyeful before turning away. ‘I’m really sorry,’ she mumbled, the door now partly closed as she peeped shyly around it. ‘I thought it was Melissa.’
‘My fault,’ Mark said, as a gentleman would. ‘Please accept my apologies. I’ll announce myself next time.’ He was kneading his forehead in that way he did – flustered, obviously. Bound to be.
‘Apology accepted,’ Jade assured him, tying her dressing gown tight to expose a lot less of herself. ‘I’m decent now. You can turn around.’
Nodding, Mark turned back, looking decidedly uncomfortable. That was to be expected, she supposed. Jade continued smiling, her gaze grazing over him as he stood there, looking achingly sexy in a navy linen jacket with a light blue shirt underneath, dark jeans and leather belt. Her eyes rested briefly at belt level before travelling back to his face. Tall, dark and heart-stoppingly handsome; he was hers. Or he very soon would be.