Page 115 of Dancing Fools and All That Jazz
‘Sure. Nice to meet you again, Max. Come on Ingrida, we need to get ready to be Dancing Fools.’
31
Monica
Ruby and I have a wonderful afternoon in Paris. The sun is shining and after a stroll around some of the key exhibits in the Louvre, we head for the river, and I use Vince’s credit card to pay for us to go to the top of the Eiffel Tower to take in the views.
‘Is it just me, or is this tower wobbling?’ Ruby grips the handrail tightly.
‘I guess it moves in the breeze. Wait, are you scared of heights?’
‘No. Well maybe a little.’
‘And you let me bring you up here? Mad woman. Besides, I didn’t think Ruby Anderson was scared of anything.’
‘Hey, the only thing that really scares me is the thought of Will staying a teenager forever.’ She laughs but then folds her arms and adds, ‘Or never forgiving me when he finds out about his biological father.’
‘You’re going to tell him, right?’
‘Yes, but no matter how many times I rehearse it, it all comes out wrong.’ Ruby puts on a sugary voice. ‘Darling, you were a moment of passion, a freak sperm and an impossible egg… Nah. Or, Will, the truth is, your birth father and I had a quick fling, but he wanted nothing to dowith you, and besides it turned out he was a dirty rotten cheat, anyway.’
‘Ouch.’
‘Or, I had a load to drink on my thirtieth birthday and ended up pregnant. Best birthday present ever…’
‘That’s better.’
‘But when he asks if Dev knows about him…’
‘You have to say yes. But he has to know Dev chose not to be involved.’
‘How hurt will that make him feel?’
‘You’re just going to have to steel yourself for it, but Ruby you’ve been a great mum and Will knows that, deep down. I expect Joanne will be histrionic and James will go ballistic when they find out I’m divorcing their father, but I’m banking on them eventually realising it’s for the best.’
‘Will you tell them he’s a cheat?’
‘I’ve thought about that. If I’m honest, the adultery was just the final straw. We were never happily married; forced into it by my mother. We almost split up, but then I found I was pregnant with the twins. It worked out when they were little, but since they started school, he and I have been living separate lives. Anyone who saw us together – yes, barely anyone – must wonder how we lasted this long. I need to speak to him away from the twins and maybe he’ll agree to an amicable separation on the proviso we don’t tell them about thecoup de grâce.’
‘Ooh. Get you with your French. Swotting up in case you see the lovely Jean-Claude again?’
‘Nothing could be further from my mind…’
‘Monica Thornton, you damn well know he’ll be coming to watch you later. OK, go quiet on me. Hey, talking of dates I wonder how Vince got on last night. You do realise he’ll know you set him up when he finds your mobile number on the dummy profile?’
‘I guess. It wouldn’t take the brain of Britain to discover who hacked his account. He may well have tried to call me, but I’ve resolved to only to speak to him face-to-face. Turns out it was meant to be – my phone getting smashed.’
‘I’d love to know if Max has tried to get me.’ Ruby’s eyes glaze over before she snaps out of it and smiles. ‘Damn it. Why did he have to be so cute. Come on, let’s get back toterra firma. My stomach’s flipping every time I look down.’
The smell of freshly made crêpes greets us at the base of the Eiffel Tower and we buy a portion each from the kiosk. The River Seine sparkles in the April light as we walk along the banks, biting into the hot pancakes and licking our fingers as chocolate drips over our hands.
‘You won’t continue to work with Arsy-Annabelle, will you?’
‘I’ve been thinking about that. Jean-Claude started his business from scratch, so there’s no reason I can’t do the same. Besides I can launch it with my festival wedding dress – after all it was my creation – and Annabelle can’t claim any different.’
‘Go, Monica. We have to think up a name for your bridal wear. How about Drop-Dead Dresses? Monica’s Marriage Moulds?’
‘Mould? Not a good word in the same sentence as marriage.’ I laugh. ‘Well unless you’re referring to my marriage. Groan.’
