‘Nina! Welcome back, babe!’
Ah. Of course.
‘Thank you,’ I said politely. After all, I did once love him, plus, I was feeling much stronger, less vulnerable and more cheerful since the trip to Hollywood. I found that, as I grew happier, the need to hate him diminished.
‘Aren’t you gonna let me in?’ he asked.
I debated, then figured that now I could take him any day.
He followed me inside where he sat himself down at the kitchen table.
‘You makin’ a cuppa? I’ll have a coffee,’ he said, and with a sigh, I flicked the kettle on. Not because I wanted him to stay, but because I knew he wasn’t leaving until he came out and asked.
He was silent for a moment, listening to the kettle getting into gear, as if mustering the courage to put his plan into action. ‘You got any Jaffa Cakes?’ he asked, licking his lips and craning his neck as I opened the snacks cupboard.
I sighed inwardly as I filled his cup, listening to him prattling on about his new friends and new ventures. And then he grinned so widely I could see all the way to the back of his teeth.
‘So, congratulations on your Hollywood deal, babe!’
I plonked his cup down along with the entire box of Jaffa cakes.
‘Don’t call me babe.’
‘You used to like it.’
‘“Used to” being the operative words, Phil. And that was a long time ago.’
He shrugged, ripping off the top of the box with the same gusto he used to pull at my nighties. The thought now repulsed me.
‘Not that long ago.’
‘Why are you here, Phil? The kids are out.’
‘It’s you I wanted to see.’
Here we go. ‘For?’
He took a sip of his coffee, making an impressed face. ‘Mmmhhh, is that a new brand?’
‘No, it’s still Tesco’s.’
‘’Course now that you’ve struck gold, you can afford all the luxuries. So, what are you gonna do with all that dosh?’
‘Oh, I dunno, Phil. Maybe pay for Ben’s operation. Fix the roof you promised to do a thousand years ago.’
‘Oh, I can do that for you, babe—Nina.’
As if I’d give him access to anything of importance to me, the kids being a forced exception.
‘And I’m cheap, too. I’ll give you a good rate.’
I swallowed my coffee, nearly burning the roof of my mouth. Jack had done everything for free, without even knowing us, and this stupid bozo here wanted to be paid for doing the labour necessary to shelter his own kids?
‘You want money to fix the very roof you abandoned three years ago?’
He shrugged. ‘You owe me, Nina.’
I laughed. ‘I owe you?’
‘It’s thanks to me you wrote those stories.’
Shit. Had he read them? Did he see himself in them? I turned around, my back to him. Maybe I could upend the kettle over his head. That would certainly distract him.
‘I suggested the names to you, didn’t I?’ he said.
‘What names? What are you talking about?’ Was he off his rocker completely?
He blushed. ‘The names of your characters. I don’t remember what we called them.’
‘We? Have you even read my books, Phil?’
His face got even redder. ‘No, I don’t have time to read…’
Thank you, God.
‘…but you wrote those books while you were married to me, so…’
‘I owe you nothing, Phil. Those stories have nothing to do with you.’
‘Still, I’m your husband.’
‘Only because you are dragging the divorce on endlessly. Why don’t you just sign off on it and leave me be, Phil?’
‘Because you’re still my wife here,’ he said, patting his chest. He should have been patting his back pocket where his wallet usually was. Only I don’t think track bottoms have back pockets, do they?
‘Come on, Nina! I need the money!’
‘Then go and find yourself a job like I did. I’m not giving you a single penny.’
‘You sound like Scrooge,’ he whined. ‘What’s a few K when you’ve got all that dosh rolling in?’
I put down my mug. ‘A few K?’
‘Yeah. All I need is a few thousand to set me up in my new business, Nina.’
Oh, God. I eyed him warily. ‘What new business?’
‘Polly – a friend of mine – she’s an IT genius, yeah? So I asked her to create a thingy—’
‘You mean a programme.’
‘Yeah. That comes up with all these winning lottery combinations.’
‘You mean she has designed a programme that generates number combinations. Based on what criteria?’
‘Huh?’
I sighed. ‘Based on what criteria does the programme generate numbers? Or are they random?’
He scratched his head. ‘I dunno. All I know is that people are gonna rush to buy them and we’re going to make loads! And then I’ll pay you back.’
Yeah. I’d heard that one before. I was still waiting for him to return the seventy-five thousand pounds he’d kindly relieved our joint account of. But because he had no earnings and no capital anywhere, the courts were helpless.
And on top of that, he wanted my hard-earned money, without even paying me back what he’d already stolen? Murder was too kind.
‘I’m sorry, Phil. I don’t have any money to spare for you.’
And between you and me, even if I did, there was no way in hell’s chance that I was going to feed his megalomaniac and fruitless ideas on how to make a living when all he had to do was get off his arse and get himself a proper job like the rest of us.
He shoved another biscuit into his mouth. ‘I don’t believe you, Nina. They paid you an advance, didn’t they?’
I bristled. ‘Not yet.’
‘Good. Maybe I should have a look at the contract when it arrives, seeing as I have good business sense.’
Oh my Lord, please kill me now.
I put the packet of biscuits in a small paper bag and pushed it into his hands. ‘I don’t need your
