‘It’s Weaver,’ I told her, turning back to face the counter and pulling an embarrassed grimace. ‘Dawn Weaver.’
‘Thank you!’ the woman said, then, scrunching up her nose. ‘Don’t worry, it happens all the time. Most of them don’t even bother to cancel.’
‘Right,’ I said. ‘Of course.’
‘You don’t looktoodevastated,’ she said, giving me a friendly wink.
‘I’m sorry?’ I asked, realising as I said it that I was grinning stupidly. I tried to wrestle my face back under control.
‘… about MsWeaver’s change of heart,’ the woman said. ‘You look pretty happy about it, actually.’
‘Yeah,’ I said. ‘Yeah, I’m… yeah…’
Out in the car park, Dawn was sitting on the bonnet of my van.
‘I’m not living with you,’ she said, swiping tears from her eyes and sounding feisty. ‘Just so you know.’
‘OK,’ I said, still struggling to look serious. ‘Fine.’
‘In fact this is nothing to do with you at all. I just couldn’t go through with it, that’s all.’
I nodded enthusiastically. ‘That’s fine,’ I told her. ‘I’ll be here as much or as little as you need.’
‘Right,’ Dawn said. ‘As long as that’s clear.’
‘It is,’ I said. ‘Crystal.’
‘And what I need now is for you to take me home.’
I nodded. ‘Sure,’ I said. ‘I can do that.’
‘But can we call in at the pub, on the way?’
‘The pub?’
‘Yeah,’ she said, with a sigh. ‘We need to tell Mum what’s just happened, and she’s really not gonna be thrilled about it. You’ll be good at calming her down.’
We, I thought, as I unlocked the door. No word had ever made me happier.
FOUR
LUCY BOOP (BY DAWN)
Rob’s campaign to woo me was more a war of attrition than a classical attempt at seduction.
Mum, I suspected, was giving him intelligence reports, so that if I needed to go to a clinic, or a gynaecologist, or the DHS, he’d magically pop up to drive me there. Rob was everywhere, every time that I could even think about possibly needing him, and often a few minutes before I’d even realised I needed him. Sometimes I’d see him drive up and think, Shit! What have I forgotten I have to do today?
I wasn’t falling for the whole thing though.
I mean, the idea that someone could worm their way into being your partner – I even suspected Rob was aiming forhusband– through ambition and sheer endurance was just silly. But I’d come to admit that he was, as he’d said, ‘one of the good ones’ and had accepted him into my life to the point that if, for a few days, he was too busy with jobs to be around, it would cross my mind that I missed him. I’d ask Wayne to do something basic like make me a cup of tea or nip to the shop for a Yorkie bar and realise, when he snarkily refused, that the only person I knew who’d say ‘yes’ – the only person I’d ever met who would never, ever refuse – was Rob.
Sometimes I’d be out shopping and remember one of Rob’s silly jokes and find myself grinning stupidly in public. Or I’d find myself running bits of conversations I wanted to have with him through my mind, working out my own replies in advance so I could impress him with my wit. So no, I wasn’t falling for the whole thing. But Rob was definitely worming his way into my psyche.
Mum was definitely on his side, there was no doubt about that. She and Rob got on so well – laughing together and dancing around, even pinching and tickling each other – that I sometimes wondered if it wasn’t my mother he fancied.
‘That boy,’ Mum would say, ‘is smitten!’
‘Yeah, but with you or with me?’ I’d ask.
