Page 101 of For Love or Money
‘Lonely?’ He frowned.
She shrugged. ‘Just a bit, you know.’
‘But we’ve been spending practically the whole time together. My entire family was at the party tonight. You were with Jill and Emma. Aren’t they being friendly to you?’
‘Yes, they are! They’re being so lovely.’ God, if he was trying to make her feel like a complete shit, he’d succeeded.
‘And I keep you company, don’t I? I didn’t mean to abandon you tonight. But I thought you were fine, and you could have come and found me.’
‘I did come and find you, but you were ... busy.’ She knew she had no right to accuse him of carrying on with Cassie. He was perfectly entitled to after all, and he’d been very discreet about it. ‘It’s not you. You’ve been a model pretend boyfriend.’
‘Well, then—’
‘Maybe “lonely” isn’t the right word ...’ Lesley wavered, plucking at her top. God, why did she have to babble so much when she was nervous? She’d said she was sorry, now she should shut up.
Al looked at her, frowning. Then suddenly his face cleared. It was almost cartoon-like the way she could see a light bulb going on in his head. ‘You have needs,’ he said, looking her straight in the eyes.
‘Um ... yeah. I suppose so.’ Lesley hung her head and shuffled her feet. God, could this get any more mortifying? She really didn’t think she should be discussing her needs with Al. Maybe if she concentrated hard enough, she could make the floor open up and swallow her. How hard could it be? All sorts of eejits did telekinesis on the telly.
‘Is that it?’ he asked her. ‘You want sex? Or do you have a thing for Scott in particular?’
‘Hey Al,’ she said, looking up. ‘I’ve got a great idea! Why don’t we not have this conversation? Let’s stop talking about it now and never speak of it again. What do you say?’
‘It’s nothing to be ashamed of, you know,’ he said softly, walking towards her. ‘It’s perfectly normal.’ He ducked his head so he could look up into her face. When she kept her eyes resolutely on the floor, he took her chin in his fingers, tilting it up so she was looking right at him.
‘Why don’t you let me take care of your ... needs?’ he said.
‘Ah, no. You’re grand, really. Thanks, but I wouldn’t want you to go to any trouble.’
‘Lesley,’ he said, his mouth quirking up in a smile, ‘it would be my pleasure.’
Al was so damn polite, she wasn’t sure how to take that. Did he mean it literally, or was it just an expression?
‘I am supposed to be your boyfriend, after all,’ he continued. ‘And as such it is my duty to see to it that your needs are met.’
Lesley shook her chin out of his hand and turned away. ‘No, it’s okay, honestly. It’s really nice of you to offer, but I’ll be fine. I’ll just ... have another shower. There’s plenty of cold water.’ It wasn’t like her to turn down a shag from an attractive man, but it would be super humiliating if Al just had sex with her out of a sense of duty, while he was still hankering after Cassie. She didn’t want to be ‘serviced’ like some brood mare.
‘Fine,’ Al said, all the warmth draining from his face. ‘Look, we’re both tired. Let’s just go to bed and forget about it.’
With that he turned on his heel and stormed off to the bathroom, leaving Lesley standing dazed in the middle of the floor, not sure exactly what had just happened or how she felt about it. All she knew was that she needed to get into bed. She undressed quickly, and when Al came out of the bathroom, she went in. They moved around each other in silence. When she came back into the bedroom, he was already in bed, his stiff back turned to her. But she could feel the waves of hostility coming off him as she crawled miserably under the cover.
Despite how drunk she was, her mind was whirring and she couldn’t get to sleep. Something had happened when she saw Al chatting with his ex, and it had unsettled her. She’d felt a stab of what felt horribly like jealousy. Had she gone and fallen for Al just when it was too late? Of all the rotten timing. Why hadn’t she appreciated him before, and snapped him up when she had the chance? Clearly he was still in love with Cassie, but he’d asked her out. He’d been making an effort to move on. Maybe if she’d said yes ...
Oh sod it, she thought. It was probably just that she’d been faking having feelings for Al for so long, she’d started to buy into her own lie. It wasn’t real. It was just that she was horny, and Al was looking very attractive tonight and he was so nice, and it had been lovely kissing him the other day ...
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The next morning Lesley wished she was one of those people who had blackouts from drinking. But apart from being a bit fuzzy around the edges, she remembered the events of last night all too vividly. She was dreading facing his family – and the fact that she was suffering from a whopping hangover didn’t help. At least she could hide behind dark glasses, and she was grateful for them as she joined everyone on the terrace, wincing in the clatteringly bright sunlight.
‘Good morning,’ she mumbled as she took a seat beside Jane at the table, trying to shrink into herself.
She was greeted with murmured acknowledgements. Stella was nauseatingly bright-eyed as ever, but Lesley was glad to see that both Rafe and Jane were looking rather the worse for wear, and Michael was pale and haggard, hunched miserably over a bowl of steaming coffee. At least she wasn’t the only one.
The atmosphere was very muted, remorse hanging in the air between them. Lesley studiously avoided eye contact with any of Al’s family, but, in fact, everyone seemed a little sheepish, mumbling to each other in hushed voices as they reached for croissants and poured coffee. Lesley had made a run to the bakery first thing as a peace offering, despite her pounding head and churning stomach. She was suffering from a lethal combination of hangover and a bad case of The Fear – made all the worse by the fact that she knew it was justly deserved.
Only Joy seemed really chipper, and didn’t appear to be suffering any after-effects. She chattered away cheerfully, in an obvious effort to gloss over the awkwardness around the table. Despite the fact that she hadn’t had much to drink, Stella was subdued, and Peter’s mood was gloomy, though he hadn’t been drinking at all.
‘I think we’re both in the doghouse,’ Jane whispered to her.
