Page 66 of The Three of Us
Molly lifts her top and winces as the cold gel squirts across her bare skin.
‘Are we ready to take a look at this little one?’ Angela says, and they both turn their heads towards the screen.
Chapter 40
Carly
‘Hi, Syd, how’s things?’ I open the driver door and climb in.
‘Not bad. Although, to tell you the truth, Carls, my back is killing me. Too long sitting here, wedged in and doing nothing. I really need a bigger car. Or longer legs! Do you mind if I have a fiddle with the seat? It won’t take long.’
‘Of course not. I’m not in any rush. I’ve finished work for the day.’
‘Wish I could say the same!’ He climbs out and kneels down on the pavement. It’s a busy road and we’re not in a proper parking space but I keep my eyes peeled for any passing traffic wardens as he fiddles with the controls.
‘There!’ he announces, as the passenger seat slides backwards and he adjusts the angle of the back. ‘Lucky there’s nobody sitting behind me or they’d get their legs crushed!’
‘I don’t suppose there’s ever anyone sitting behind you, is there? Learners aren’t likely to bring a friend along.’
‘Oh, you’d be surprised! I’ve got one teenager whose mum insists on coming on every lesson. Thinks I’m about to run my hand up her kid’s thigh or something. It wouldn’t be so bad if my pupil was a girl!’
I laugh, do up my seat belt and check in the rear mirror.
‘Hang on.’ Syd has one leg in the car but he’s stopped in mid-bend. ‘Did you hear that?’
‘Hear what?’
‘Someone just called my name. Or I think they did.’ He gets back out of the car and looks around. I lean forward and peer out too. Someone is banging on a window, way up above us. The window flies open and a man’s head emerges.
‘Syd! Carly! Help!’
It’s Jack. Waving his arms about, up on the second floor. What the hell is he doing?
‘Jack? What’s up, man?’ Syd is leaning backwards as he looks up, taking the opportunity to place his hands at each side of his back and give it a good stretch. ‘Where’s the fire?’
‘No fire,’ Jack shouts down. ‘The door’s stuck. To the room. Handle’s broken. I can’t get out.’
I get back out of the car and look up too, and there he is, like some modern-day male equivalent of Rapunzel, stuck in his tower.
‘The door handle? I did tell you, Jack…’
‘I know you did. And you were right, but that’s no help to me now, is it? Please, Carly, can you come back inside and let me out? Like, now? I’m in a bit of a hurry. It’s the scan today. You know, the big one that tells us the sex, and I’m already late. Molly will kill me…’
A couple of passers-by, pensioners in macs, have stopped and are looking up anxiously, as if someone’s about to attempt a suicide and jump out of the window.
‘Sex? Did he say something about sex?’ The old woman tuts and drags the old man away. ‘Disgusting!’
I can’t help laughing. ‘What’s it worth, Jack? I am supposed to be having a driving lesson, not sorting out your knob problems.’
‘Oh, stop messing about. This is serious. As many coffees as you can drink. Or ciders. Or a massive bunch of flowers. Anything… Just come and get me out. Please.’
‘Better do as he asks, Carls,’ Syd says, leaning his elbow on the car roof. ‘Anything for a mate, eh?’
The lift is slow in coming but I make it to the second floor and head for the meeting room. The handle, or the half of it that should be sticking out of this side of the door, is lying on the carpet in the corridor. What am I supposed to do? Fit it back on somehow?
‘Jack?’ I tap on the door and he’s there, on the other side, immediately giving instructions, the relief in his voice obvious even though I can’t see him.
‘It just needs something to slot in next to the catch, to release it. Anything. A knife from the kitchen maybe? Or go and find the caretaker, if we have one. Do we have one?’