Page 25 of The Three of Us
‘Me too. That’s why I changed jobs, and moved out of Mum’s, and why I’m learning to drive. Having a go at being a proper grown-up!’
‘And how’s that going?’
I pick up my wine, lift it to my lips and blow a stream of noisy bubbles into it. ‘It’s a work in progress,’ I say, giggling until a spurt of wine erupts out of the corner of my mouth and runs down my chin, and we both laugh so much that Jack nearly knocks his glass over, makes a grab for it and wobbles the table, making one of my tins of beans leap out of its carrier bag and roll away like a bowling ball, hurtling across the floor towards the bar.
I stumble forward, bend down and make a grab for it, my hand grasping at Jack’s ankle to stop myself landing flat on my face. He hauls me to my feet and pulls me back down beside him, our bodies now suddenly much closer than they were before. I can feel the heat from his thigh, and all sorts of delicious thoughts come rushing into my head. Oh dear! Drinking may not be such a good idea, for either of us, but as he lifts the bottle and tops up my glass I don’t try to stop him.
Chapter 15
Jack
Jack wants to kiss her. She’s so damn beautiful when she laughs like that, her eyes sparkling under the chandeliers. What sort of a bar has chandeliers in this day and age, anyway? He knows it’s corny and a bit over the top but, still, he’s glad he chose this place. None of the massive TVs and sticky tables and noisy crowds of office workers most of the ordinary pubs have to offer. He sits closer and wraps his hand around the back of hers, her warm fingers still clutching her glass.
‘Carly…’
She turns her head to look at him, and her face is just inches away. He can almost feel the electricity between them, the pull that was always there, from the first time he’d met her all those years ago. If he hadn’t lost his job, hadn’t gone back home, hadn’t married Molly…
It’s wrong to think like that. He knows it is. Nobody made him do those things. It was the life he chose, and he can’t go back. He loves Molly; he always has. It’s just that, right now, he can’t think about her, about what’s about to happen in their lives, the changes a baby is going to bring. These things are supposed to be talked about, considered, planned. He’s not ready. Just like the last time, when he was a naive seventeen-year-old, acting like Jack the Lad, thinking with his dick instead of his brain, taking stupid chances. If it hadn’t been for his parents, discreetly sorting things out with Katie’s, paying for the abortion, allowing him to go away to uni without the worry and the responsibility hanging over his head, where would he be now?
He can’t believe it’s happening again. He’s older now, more sensible, and he thought Molly was too, but that doesn’t stop him being angry, confused, and – yes – scared. If babies were ever going to be a part of their lives, he always thought it would be by agreement, something discussed and planned. How can this be happening? Isn’t she meant to be on the pill? Of course, she might have done it on purpose, stopped taking the damn things, tricked him…
He doesn’t want to think about it, to have to even consider that his wife could do such a thing. He just wants to blot it all out, enjoy something uncomplicated, fun, even if only for one evening, one night. While the cat’s away…
Carly’s lips are so close. If he’s going to do it, now is the time.
There is a moment, a long tingling moment, when they both stop and just look at each other, but neither makes the all-important move.
‘Jack, I can’t.’ Carly pulls back and he lets her hand break free from his.
He closes his eyes for a second or two and, when he opens them again, she is sitting upright, the distance back between them, and she’s looking away from him, down at the table. ‘Me neither. I’m sorry.’
‘I think maybe I should go, don’t you? I don’t do this sort of thing, get involved with married men… Not that we are… involved, I mean.’
‘I know. It would be so easy though, wouldn’t it?’ So easy, so tempting. He still wants to, but the moment is lost.
She turns her back and stands up, slipping her arms into her coat and picking up her shopping. ‘I really do have things to do. Thanks for the drink, but this really isn’t a good idea, is it?’
‘Probably not.’
‘I just don’t want to end up falling into something I shouldn’t, and ending up as the other woman, you know. Because that’s what could happen if we let it.’
He doesn’t answer, but he knows she’s right.
‘And we both know that men in this situation don’t leave their wives, they just juggle, have a go at having their cake and eating it, don’t they? I’m sorry. I know I’m jumping several steps ahead here, but I don’t want to be anyone’s dirty secret, Jack. You know, three of us in this marriage, as Princess Diana said once.’ She shrugs. ‘I can’t see myself as Camilla somehow.’
He stands up too, leaning over and planting a short, chaste kiss on her cheek. ‘Me neither. Not that Molly’s much of a Diana, to be honest. And I don’t have the ears to be Charles! But I get what you’re saying. Stop it before it starts, yeah?’
She nods.
‘See you at work then?’
‘Yeah, see you. Friends though?’
‘I hope so.’
And then she walks out, quickly, without looking back, and he’s left with two half-full wine glasses and the rest of the bottle, and he has every intention of drinking it all. In fact, he might even order another.
When he gets back to the flat it feels cold and empty. Mad though he is with Molly, he misses her being here. The smell of her latest batch of baking, the sound of her singing along to the ads on the TV, her warmth in the bed.