Always Mr. Wrong Read online

“Hello, only me and the cow.” David walked through the kitchen door, balancing a large tray in one hand, with something humungous underneath a tea towel.

  Eleanor turned around. “So Victoria is parking the car?”

  “Funny,” he clipped his sister around the ears.

  Great. Now David had arrived, me dressed up to the knockers, when he knows I go to the gym on a Monday. It was one thing being able to deceive my seven-year-old daughter, but a different ball game deceiving my forty-year-old brother.

  “Clare, Mum said go easy on the garlic and herbs. Marjorie gets reflux from too many herbs and spices.”

  I watched as David placed the tray on the work surface and lifted the tea towel, revealing a gigantic joint of beef.

  “Why would Mum send me beef for Marjorie?”

  “For Sunday, of course.”

  “Whoops.” Eleanor slunk down in her chair and hid behind her magazine.”

  “Air head, you didn’t pass the message on, did you?” He grabbed the magazine from Eleanor.

  “Sorry, I forgot. Rosie called right after you with some hot gossip, and it slipped my mind.”

  Looking at my watch, I was now going to be late meeting Guy at the restaurant.

  “Hello,” I lifted my arms, waving them in the air as David and Eleanor began one of their spatters. “Would someone please explain? I’m in a hurry?”

  “Okay, Okay, keep your hair on. You sound just like Mum,” David sarcastically said. “Mum rang the library today. Dad has been in the doldrums, missing work. Marjorie had called that morning. She’s missing Dad. Can’t get used to working a new way. Well, she’s worked with him for years, and we all know she hates change. Remember when they installed computers...?”

  “DAVID, I’m in a hurry! Cut to the chase.”

  “Sorry, well, Mum thought it would be nice to ask Marjorie for Sunday lunch, but as it’s our turn and you know what Victoria’s roasts are like...”

  “Shoe and leather come to mind,” joked Eleanor.

  “Mum wants dinner here. Fine.” I could not wait any longer for David to finish. Guy would now be waiting in the restaurant. I picked up my bag to leave.

  “Oh, and one more thing. Mum’s doing a bit of team building. Doctor Foreman will be coming, too.”

  Eleanor let out a great snort. “Well, just when I was thinking of getting out of a boring Sunday lunch with Marjorie, all of a sudden it’s just become exciting.”

  So that was what Guy was talking about earlier on the phone. He’d had an interesting conversation that needed us to talk about over dinner. I actually thought it was about the offer he’d put on the house in Hampstead, and that was why we were having dinner there...to suss out the local amenities.

  I felt sick to my stomach, looked at my watch.

  Guy would be ordering a drink right now, wondering where the hell I was. I’ll call him from the car, tell him to meet at his apartment. No way could I enjoy a meal now. We had to hatch some plan.

  “I have to go. I’ll be late for the gym.”

  Shit, shit, and double shit. Taken off guard, I just blew it.

  David looked puzzled. “You go to the gym dressed up like that?”

  “She has a date,” announced Eleanor.

  “Button it, Eleanor,” glaring at my sister.

  “You have a date? Clare, that’s great. Victoria and I were just saying the other night you should get yourself back out there.”

  “Has no one got anything better to do than discuss my love life?” I yelled, throwing my bag on the table in anger.

  “So who is it? What does he do? When can we meet him and give him the Coleman family third degree? Or is it someone we already know and approve of?”

  “NO!” I yelled at the same time as Eleanor said yes.

  “Oh, Clare, he’ll find out soon enough. How long can you go sneaking around? Better David knows now so he can get used to the idea.”

  David’s eyes shot from Eleanor to me in rapid succession. “So do I know him or not?”

  I took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. “If I tell you, you’re not to judge me, and most of all you can’t tell Mum, Dad or Victoria.” I held my breath then quickly said, “It’s Guy Foreman.”

  Eleanor and I watched as David mouthed the name to himself a few times. Surely my brother was not that dense. He had only just mentioned his name.

  “Oh, my god! As in the Doctor? Are you crazy? You are dating a man who could be a grandpa? He’s what twenty odd years older than you?”

  “Sixteen actually, and for your information I really care for him.”

  “Yes, when you were a teenager maybe. Clare, this is positively disgusting.”

  “We get on really well. He’s caring, understanding and sexy. Now if you don’t mind, I must go. David, can you make sure you lock the kitchen door and post the keys through the letterbox. The other morning when I came home Eleanor had left them both unlocked overnight.”

  “You stay the night? Like sleep together?”

  “Two nights a week and the weekends when Phil has Olivia,” informed my sister.

  Shocked, David pulled out a chair, sat down and ran his fingers through his hair. “You’ve asked me to keep some secrets over the years, but this, Clare, well, it takes the biscuit.”

  I was in no mood to pacify my brother’s morals. I needed to talk to Guy and sort this mess out. “Yes, well, live with it.” Grabbing my bag, I turned and fled.

  As I opened the front door, I heard David say, “Really? He’s sexy?”

  “Oh god yes, he’s like a bag of liquorish allsorts...Isaiah Washington, Hugh Laurie, Lionel Richie and Pierce Brosnan. You dig into the bag, and whichever one you pick out you know you’ll love it.”

  I locked my front door with a huge smile on my face.

  * * * *

  Guy had managed to reassure me that Sunday lunch would go without any hitches. It was easy for him to say, but all Sunday morning I had been on tender hooks. Guy was obviously surer than I was. He informed me he could see no earthly reason why he could not stay over on Saturday night, that he would be an extra pair of hands helping with lunch, which would have been a great help if he and Eleanor had not had been larking about, instead of preparing the vegetables. An hour before my guests were due, I felt it would look suspicious if Guy were already in-situ as it were.

  Plus, Phil was due to drop off Olivia at any moment. All week she had never shut up about my new BF, as she put it. The odds of her telling Phil seemed too high to chance. Call me over-reacting, but it only took Phil to see Guy peeling potatoes to put two and two together. After all, he was a detective.

  Finally, my nerves near to shattering, I sent Guy to buy flowers for my mother and Marjorie and a bottle of wine for me. My thinking behind this was that it would make his appearance more authentic, as if he’d stopped off to buy them on the way over here. Eleanor suggested he might also buy smelling salts for Mum, brandy from Dad, a good pair of running shoes for us both and a one way ticket to Mexico. Just in case.

  Well, my plan nearly worked. Guy received a half-hearted smile from Marjorie, whilst Mum, on the other hand, seemed to overplay receiving her droopy overpriced bunch of blooms. “Isn’t he such a thoughtful man? Guy, you really shouldn’t have. How did you know that I absolutely love carnations? And pink ones, too. I always say it takes a real kind-hearted man to give a woman flowers. Don’t you agree, Marjorie?”

  Marjorie shrugged her shoulders. Obviously it was going to take more than some wilting flowers and a lot more team building to reassure her that Guy was really a very nice man.

  Eleanor jokingly had whispered in my ear, “Better watch your man. Looks like Mum’s got the hots for your doctor.”

  I watched Mum flutter her eyelashes at Guy.

  Was I mistaken but wasn’t that the dress she’d bought for the Mayor’s garden party last summer? Talk about mutton dressed as lamb for a family Sunday lunch. But hold on a cotton picking minute, it was all coming back to me now, Mum would always dres
s up to the nines for my hospital appointments. I don’t believe it! I had been so wrapped up in my own crush, I’d never realised that twenty years ago Mum fancied the pants off Guy. ‘Ohoooo! Yuck!’

  While my mother flapped around the place like a prize peacock, filling up glasses and foolishly acting as if she was twenty, not sixty-four, Marjorie had trapped my father in a corner, obviously griping about Guy. Her latest gripe being the running machine Guy had installed in his office. Not having enough time to go to the gym, Guy would spend an hour running at lunchtime. I knew what she would be saying. She’d told Guy the same. “This is a place of work, not a gymnasium. If I had wanted to be employed in a physical fitness environment, I would have taken a job in physiotherapy.”

  Guy pleasantly surprised me by entertaining the children and Victoria with card and magic tricks. According to Olivia, who was bursting with excitement over her new BF, Guy told them he had wanted to be a magician when he was a boy.

  Well, he certainly was a wizard at sex.

  * * * *

  Lunch was going without any hitches. General chitchat and banter flowed around the table as it did at all Coleman Sunday lunches.

  My cunning seating plan had been devised so as not to create any cock-ups. David and Eleanor sat either side of me. That way I could monitor Eleanor’s wine intake. More than three glasses of wine and I knew her mouth would let her down. David was there purely as support. If Eleanor let anything slip, David could quickly intervene. He’d always been the quick thinker of the two of us where our sister was concerned. And over the years, he’d had a lot of practice.

  Yet today he was like a ticking time bomb as he fidgeted and glared at Guy fraternising with Victoria, who, by the way, was lapping it up. I knew David was reading too much into it. Despite all the charm, whenever I glanced over to Guy, he would be sneakily looking out of the corner of his eye at me. His eyes spoke more than words. They told me not to worry...everything would be fine.

  Tapping was heard on a wine glass, and silence fell around the table. All eyes turned to my father who sat at the head of the table.

  “I know we’ve said grace, but I was just sitting here, watching you all enjoying yourselves and this beautiful food Clare has prepared. I felt so thankful for being able to share it with my wonderful family and friends. So let us take a moment each one of us to say what we are thankful for today.”

  “Oh God no,” hissed Eleanor under her breath. Nudging me, she pointed her finger to Olivia at her side who was frantically waving her hand in the air. I didn’t have a chance to stop her.

  “Yes, Olivia? You are eager to go first,” said my father.

  My hands shot under the table, grabbing one of Eleanor’s thighs, the other grabbed David’s who nearly jumped out of his chair in fright.

  “I am thankful that Mummy has a boyfriend before it is too late,” announced my daughter.

  Eleanor turned in her chair, through pursed lips, said, “Thank god, she went first to stop this crap. All I’m thankful for today is my new vibrator I tried out this morning.” I tried to manage a smile of thankfulness, too. The last time we went around the table giving thanks, Eleanor was so pissed she thanked the two men she had shagged senseless the night before at a party.

  “Is this true, Clare? You have a male friend?” cried out my mother in glee.

  I looked across the table to her beaming face.

  “Come on, Clare. Don’t be coy.” Hardly able to control herself, Mum jumped up from her chair. She had spent the last nine months trying to fix me up with her friend’s sons who were single and over thirty. Pickings had been somewhat slim. Narrowed down to a closet gay, whose mother thought he was sensitive. A slimy looking character that I’m sure Phil had told me was a peeping tom and a mortician who in his spare time collected beer mats.

  “How long have you been seeing him?”

  My vocal cords seemed to have closed tight.

  “Eight weeks,” answered Eleanor.

  “And does he have a name?”

  I opened my mouth to speak, but the words just would not come out.

  My mother looked to my sister for the answer. “Eleanor, you seem to know all about it. What is his name?”

  Eleanor raised her hands in submission. “How should I know? I just walked in on them, Clare on top like a rodeo cowboy, him underneath like a raging bull. We didn’t get around to a formal introduction. God, I need a drink!” She grabbed the nearest bottle of wine and guzzled from the bottle.

  “Did she say what I think she just said?” Marjorie dropped her knife and fork, her hands trembling in shock.

  “Don’t worry,” Olivia put a reassuring hand on hers. “Grandpa says if we don’t understand what Auntie Eleanor says just to ignore it.”

  “I think it’s Clare’s business. Maybe we should leave it at that,” David on cue thankfully announced.

  From the corner of my eye I could see Guy fold his napkin and draw back his chair. My heart started to pound in my chest so hard I thought I was going into cardiac arrest. In a dreamlike state, I watched him walk around the table until he stood behind me, took my hand, and lifted me to my feet, supporting me tightly around the waist.

  “Glenda, I’m the one seeing your daughter.”

  My mother collapsed back down in her chair, fanning herself with her napkin. Marjorie let out a huge wail, like she had just been told she had weeks to live, and Victoria, well, by the vacant look on her face, she either had not comprehended what was happing, or she was wondering why she had not been privy to this information.

  “But you’re...” Mum stammered, trying to get the words out, pointing to Guy.

  “Guy is mixed raced, Granny,” came the innocent voice of my daughter. Having interrogated Guy earlier, she had learnt possibly more about his family than I actually knew. “It’s when your daddy is black, and your mummy is white.”

  David’s children began giggling. “Olivia, be quiet,” reprimanded my brother.

  “I’m only saying.” She slid down in her chair sulking.

  I heard Guy chuckling under his breath, in amusement at my daughter. They had instantly formed a bond, Guy had earlier taken me to one side, and said Olivia was an absolute joy.

  This was surely not the time for maternal feelings?

  He took a deep inhale to calm his voice. “I think the words you are looking for, Glenda, are older than your daughter. Yes, that is true, but I also love her very much.”

  “You do?” The shock of hearing those words released my vocal cords. However, I never imagined that the first time Guy told me he loved me that family and, God forbid, Marjorie would present.

  Mum found a new lease of energy and jumped back up. “Trevor, say something. She’s your daughter, too,” wafting her hands frantically at my father.

  I couldn’t bear to look at my father, to see the look of disappointment that would be on his face. I had to physically will myself to turn my head.

  “I’m sorry, Glenda. I think its excellent news.”

  “Poppy cock, Trevor. You actually think that this relationship has a future?”

  “You said yourself only the other day you’d never seen Clare so happy in years. Guy obviously makes her happy.”

  “Don’t talk ridiculous. How can this work? If they had a child, Guy would be retiring before the poor mite went to high school. Clare, what have you to say for yourself? Has the cat got your tongue?”

  What can I say? I am still in a state of disbelief. I really thought Dad would be the one blowing a gasket, after all the boys and men, including Phil, I’d taken home in the past, and none had been good enough for his daughter. A phrase he had never had to say to Eleanor. She had never been out long enough with anyone. Look at him. I’ve not seen him this happy since I graduated from University, the same big smile on his face like a cat with two tails.

  Heavens, I have to say something. That giant vein in Mum’s temple is about to rupture. What am I going to say? She has thought about things Guy and I have never e
ven spoken about. Does Guy want children? It doesn’t help matters that everyone is looking at me, expecting an answer, and Guy squeezing my side, whispering, “Just tell her how you feel.” Honestly, I feel positively sick.

  “Well, Clare, we are waiting.” The vein pulsated harder the more agitated she became.

  “Well...” I looked around the table. “Unaccustomed as I am to public speaking, least of all about my romantic intentions... I’m... I’m...”

  “Good heavens, woman! What are you?” snarled, my mother.

  “I’m thankful for Guy. Yes, I’m thankful that Guy came into my life. He is thoughtful, immensely loving, and I’m a better person for meeting and falling in love with him. Is that what you want to hear, Mum?” I felt Guys arms tighten around me, a soft warm kiss on the side of my cheek.

  My father gave me his ‘proud of you’ smile. “Yes, Clare, that’s all your mother needed to hear.” He turned to my mother. “Sit down, Glenda. You’re making yourself look a complete ass,” he said in his authoritative tone, only used when someone really pissed him off.

  “May I just say a few words?” Marjorie timidly raised her hand, picking up her handbag with the other. “I would just like to say, Doctor Foreman, how thankful I am that I am aware of your..., situation. It could have been very embarrassing indeed.” She fidgeted around inside her handbag, everyone straining their necks to see what she had slid onto her lap under the tablecloth. “I was tidying your office the other day, after you’d...what is the word you used? Worked out, and I came upon something ... something that was, should we say, misplaced?”

  “Marjorie,” said the firm tone from my father. “I told you earlier, this is neither the time nor the place.”

  Ignoring my father’s request, she continued. “Clare, I think this must belong to you.” She held up my black lace thong.

  * * * *

  Christmas came around, full of joy and cheer, and so did my mother about Guy and me. Marjorie, on the other hand, was still as frosty as a snowman towards Guy. I had made sure that I kept enough distance between Marjorie and myself, not that I was the least bit embarrassed. Quite the opposite. In fact, if we had happened to bump into each other I’d have probably smacked her in the chops. Thanks to Marjorie spreading the seasonal message, co-workers’ innuendoes about misplaced lingerie had been rather embarrassing.