Chapter Thirty
Joel turned to look at her, and Sammy wanted to laugh, he looked so out of sorts in just his boxer shorts, face flushed. Though she was blushing too as Clifford stepped into the lounge smiling. She was wearing his shirt, a garment that was so obviously his, and that only fell to a couple of inches below her knickers. Damn shirt, it had kept her awake all night, all soft and scented, over powering her senses and smelling like Joel wrapped around her, when all she wanted was to make her baby girl feel better.
"You didn't sign all the forms." Clifford waved a sheaf of papers in her direction, "I didn't want to let anymore time pass, it'd delay the move with Christmas coming."
"Thank you, that's so kind." As she showed Clifford to the small dining table, she spotted her bra, sticking out from under the sofa. The last thing she wanted was for Clifford to see that. Giving what she hoped was a discreet cough, she stopped the retreating Joel who turned, then she glared at him, then down to the floor. After the third time, he followed her eyes and gasped. Lashing a foot out to the side he kicked it under the sofa then carried on his journey to his bedroom.
"Sorry Clifford, to drag you out like that, on a cold winter morning."
He smiled, "not a problem. I didn't realise you'd stayed in London. I'd have come over last night."
Once again she blushed and hated that her face was so expressive, but ultimately was glad that he hadn't turned up when the passion had been at his height.
"We called to say hello then Eleanor was tired, so we stayed. She's had me up all night with a temperature. But hey," she shrugged, "that's kids."
"I remember it well, the sleepless nights." He slid the paper across the table to her, then sat back his arms crossed, "I would like to meet her someday."
She nodded, "she's asleep, otherwise I'd have brought her out now...she didn't fall asleep until about half four."
"The last thing I want is to meet her when she's at her worst!" He grinned as he watched her sign, "but as I keep saying, the house...that's not what it was about. I want what you're owed, what was taken from you by both my sons."
That sounded far more serious than she thought the situation was, but she wasn't about to argue, Marcus had given her a great life until he died, and of course Eleanor. She wouldn't change that for the world.
After scribbling her name and initials in all the designated spaces, he smiled, "excellent. Will you let me know how moving goes...and whether you need any help?"
"I was planning to help her."
They both turned to see Joel stood in the doorway from the bedroom, he was in a suit, ready for work, hair wet from what must have been the quickest shower in history. "I've got a mate who's on standby to do the moving. As you say Clifford, this is the least we can do for Marcus, hey?"
As Clifford crossed towards him and shook his hand gratefully, Sammy watched things from a distance trying to fathom out what the hell was happening.
Joel was talking quietly to the older man as they crossed the room and they shared a hug on the doorstep.
"I'll be in touch Sammy," Clifford called out, and she smiled and waved.
Joel took a moment to turn back and face the music. As awkward went, that would probably score a fifteen out of ten, Clifford had looked at him so knowingly, and he hated how that made him feel. He'd spent a large amount of his life in the shadow of his best friend, and now his father had witnessed him stepping out of that, finally. He had no idea what people would think about the fact that he almost had sex with his dead best friend's wife. What a bastard.
When he eventually had composed himself enough to look at Sammy, he turned around and she'd gone, left the room. With a groan he scurried off after her.
"Sammy?"
The spare room door snapped open and Sammy leaned out, "SSHHH! Ellie's still asleep."
With that she closed the door on him.
What should he do? Go to work and leave them there? Stay and wait? He wanted to go and bury his head in the sand, but that wasn't an option, not know. He knew he had to wait.
Two cups of coffee later and there was still no sign of her emerging. So calmer he made for the spare room again, tapping the door he opened it to see her under the covers next to Eleanor, the rise and fall of the duvet indicating that they were both asleep. With a sigh he closed the door then called Jan. He had an hour until he was needed in the office, so instead he got his laptop and started on his emails.
Sammy opened her eyes and yawned, she couldn't believe she'd fallen back asleep. Reaching for her phone on the bedside table, she groaned when she saw it was out of charge. She still didn't have any clothes to wear, so she had to make do with the shirt, that was now unbelievably creased.
Turning to her left she smiled at the face of the person who'd woken her, Eleanor.
"Hey little lady, you ok?"
She giggled uncontrollably; presumably the fever of the previous night had eased.
"Shall we go see what Uncle Joel has for breakfast?"
Nodding she sat up. Sammy held out her arms as she got out of bed and carried her into the lounge. Opening the door, she immediately spotted Joel bent over the dining table embroiled in something on his computer screen, but at the sound of the door opening he looked up and met her eyes.
Then he jumped to his feet closing the lid on his laptop.
"You're up! I've got to be in the office in half an hour, I didn't want to just leave you here, but I didn't want to wake you."
She nodded, "no sleep last night, didn't realise I was quite that tired."
Sammy bit her lip as he stared at her; his eyes were everywhere but on her and he looked as flighty as a scared cat.
"You two want breakfast?"
"I can sort that, if you trust us to let ourselves out?"
He ran a hand through his hair, exasperated, "of course I trust you."
"Ok."
Filling his laptop and his papers into his bag he reached for his coat, "ok, thanks."
"Is that is?" She finally asked as he reached the front door. He glanced back nervously and she shook her head, he was about to walk away. "Are we going to pretend last night didn't happen? IS that how it goes? Can you do that?"
He stammered, unable to find the words, but when he did he crushed her, "that was your father-in-law, you're my best friend's wife. It was a mistake Sammy."
Literally gasping out loud, she stepped towards him, but he moved back, fear crossing his face, "a mistake?"
He nodded, "we're friends, Marcus would like that."
"But he wouldn't like you shagging me on your sofa."
Joel recoiled as though she'd hit him, "I'll help you move..."
"That's it?"
She couldn't scream at him as she wanted to as a still drowsy Eleanor was still draped around her body and she wouldn't do that to her.
"If you walk away don't other helping me with anything else. I don't need sympathy and pity."
The look he gave her was a sad one, a pitiful one, and then he turned and left.
"So you almost fucked on the sofa?"
Trust Corinne to lay it out in those terms, "to quote our friends over the pond he was approaching third base."
"And how was it?" Corinne was leaning forward across the table of the pub where they were having lunch and her jaw hung open.
"Well, let's just say I haven't dried up...I still knew what to do."
She laughed, "and then Ellie performed coitus interruptus?"
It was Sammy's turn to laugh, "less of the coitus and more of the interruptus!"
"You kill me."
Sammy reached for her beer and took a swig, "and after a night of no sleep due to Ellie...Clifford turned up when we were both, rather scantily dressed."
Corinne's eyes widened, "shit bugger bum! That must have been the reality check from hell!"
"More than you know!"
She explained to her bestie all that had happened the previous morning, how he'd left her, wanted to pretend nothing had happened, and then not answered his phone since.
"You basically told him to fuck off," Corinne never picked her punches. "He's licking his wounds."
"He should talk to me; first there was the kiss, now this..."
"You want more? You think this has legs?"
Dropping her head into her hands she sighed, "I don't know. I loved Marcus. I hate that another man got me interested...more than that. But I've been alone for so long. I wanted his arms around me, I wanted to feel attractive, I wanted to be a woman again. I'm sick of being a widow." Shaking her head she looked up, "how dreadful does that sound? I don't want things to end with Marcus, I'm not sure I'm ready to let him go either."
Corinne slid her chair around the table to hug her friend, "and surely guilt, worry, anxiety, they're all normal after becoming a widow. Don't beat yourself up. You are twenty seven years old; you have SO much life left ahead of you. Make the most of it. Marcus wouldn't want to see you throwing your life away. He'd want you to be happy, and that might mean you kiss a dozen more frogs before you find your second Prince Charming."
"I had a Prince Charming. I've had this once; it's ridiculous to think that I can do it again."
Corinne squeezed her hand, "you can, and you will. You just have to not over think things, honestly, take things day by day, but lose the guilt, and see what happens."
"With Joel?"
Her friend shrugged, "maybe, who knows? You need to regain that confidence and find out...when you're ready."
Sammy smiled, she wanted that so much, but she still wasn't sure she was ready for it. Was it fair to drag Joel into something she wasn't sure she was ready for? They were friends, or rather they had been, starting something that she wasn't ready for could ruin that...but then she wasn't even sure if he wanted that too.
"So you're moving tomorrow?"
Sammy looked at Monica lying on the sofa, she looked rough today, and whilst she felt sympathy for her mother, since she'd found out what she had said to Joel they had barely spoken. Despite that she'd taken her to every appointment, held her hair every time she threw up, and provided every meal, regardless of whether she ate them of not.
"You knew that last week, don't do this."
Monica's head dropped, "I don't want you to go."
"I'll still help you, it'll be no different."
Her mother ran her hand through her hair, "I don't mean for the help." Sighing she tried to sit up a bit more, "I know that I've been a disgrace, that I've never been a mother, but the last six months...I've enjoyed having you here. Both of you."
Sammy wasn't about to forget twenty years of neglect, "so that's why you sent Joel scurrying with those threats, those disgusting words." Monica had the decency to look shocked, "what you didn't think he'd tell me?"
"I was sensing that I was losing you."
Sammy shook her head, "you lost me years ago when you wanted a life more than you wanted me. But I've hung around because...I don't know; you're the only mother I have. But every day you do something like this, you do the WRONG thing all the time. I could have moved back to London, I could have gone anywhere, but a HUGE chunk of the reason for staying here is you. After all you've done I still have this need to be around you, waiting for the next time you screw me over, because that's all you ever do."
Monica looked like she might cry, but Sammy couldn't back down, "so maybe this time your intentions were a little more noble, but you still tried to blackmail my friend to stay out of my life. Joel's a good man, and all he's ever done is put himself out to help me and Eleanor, and indirectly you! If he hadn't come here when you were in hospital then I'd never have been able to be there for you. And his reward? Can't you see how poisonous you are? Can you see why I need to give Ellie distance from you?"
"She loves me!"
Sammy nodded, "she does, because she's innocent and she's probably the only person you've not abused for your own benefit, I WON'T see that change."
"I want to change, for both of you."
Sammy had to walk out of the room after that, Monica was on the verge of tears, and so was she, she'd waited all her life for her mother to want her and need her, for her, not for what she did for her. And that was the closest she'd got to it. Did she believe it? It was the most candid that she'd ever known Monica to be, but she was fighting, she had nothing left. Whilst the emotional part of her wanted to cry, to embrace the first hint of love from her mother, the sceptical and larger part of her wanted to laugh in a hugely sarcastic way at her desperation. With a sigh and a shake to herself, she headed into the bedroom to pack up the last of her things. Tomorrow evening she'd be in her own bedroom, in her own home. And she couldn't wait.