And when the hill got steeper and I could no longer carry everyone’s weight, he simply hopped off the back seat, taking the wheels with him, leaving me a single mum with two kids on a dwindling income.
*
The next morning, as Luke and I lay in bed, for once not having to jump up to feed the kids, my stomach gurgled.
Luke laughed. ‘Starving you, am I?’ he said as he kissed my mouth. ‘You stay here and I’ll go get us something to eat. Don’t move.’
I wasn’t planning on going anywhere. It had been an amazing night, and I wanted to see where this was going. If anything, he’d proven to me that a) I was not frigid as Phil used to say and b) that I still “had” it. Who knew?
And Luke, what a beautiful man. Kind and fun. A bit controlling, maybe, but that was probably just his being used to having his way, being a superstar and all that.
There was a muffled kerfuffle downstairs and I sat up, instantly alert.
‘Oy! Who the bleedin’ ’ell are you?’
Oh, God. This was all I needed – Pheral Phil unleashed in my home. What the hell was he doing here, and at this hour, to boot? The last thing I needed was for Luke to see what a prize I’d bagged in my youth. I threw on a pair of nearby jeans and a sweater, tying my hair back as I tiptoed downstairs.
There stood Luke in a pair of hip-hugging boxers, looking for all the world like his younger self in the Calvin Klein underwear ad, carrying a tray with two bowls of Honey Nut cereal.
Phil looked back and forth between us, slack-jawed. ‘Nina! Are you serious?’
‘What do you want, Phil?’ I said, then turned to Luke. ‘Phil, obviously.’
‘Ex-husband, Phil?’ Luke asked.
‘Yes.’
‘Not yet ex,’ Phil ground out, then it hit him. ‘You’re the actor. Luke O’Hara, right?’
‘Nice to meet you,’ Luke said, suddenly as suave as they came. I looked for a sign of jealousy, but there was none. Luke was nowhere near intimidated by the presence of my almost ex-husband. Yet he had posited that Bill was based on Phil, only a consonant away from the monster that had ruined my life. And yet, there was no sign of animosity anywhere on his perfect face.
‘I didn’t realise you and my wife—’ Phil began.
‘Ex-wife,’ I said again.
‘—Were sleeping together.’
‘Oh,’ Luke said, sliding me a glance as I shook my head, but it was too late. It was obvious even to anvil-head here.
‘Well, good luck to you, then. There’s no one like my Nina,’ Phil said, pseudo-wistfully, changing tactic, and I rolled my eyes at the line he used to pull out at the end of an argument to make sure I’d forgive him. Back then, it used to make me think twice about leaving him. Now, I could see right through him. And speaking of which, I suddenly realised why he was so accommodating. If I met a new man, Phil would be off the hook once and for all for child support, in his simple mind. Jesus, why was everyone always so calculating? Why wasn’t I that fast on my feet? Emma would’ve figured that one out in a heartbeat.
Luke glanced at me, then lowered his eyes, but I could tell something had shifted. ‘You’re absolutely right,’ he said, putting the tray down. ‘There’s no one like Nina.’
Phil hiked his jeans up higher. ‘Well, I’d better be off, let you two… get to work.’
‘Thanks, man,’ Luke said.
When I closed the door behind him, I let out a sigh of relief. ‘I’m so sorry, Luke…’
He ran a hand through his hair and fixed me with his stare. ‘I didn’t realise you still talked to each other. Nor that he was even still in your life.’
Ah. Finally, a bit of wholesome jealousy. Not that I wanted him to break Phil’s nose or anything (hmmm, on second thought), but it would have been nice to see a bit of territorial in him.
‘I told you, he isn’t. But I won’t let the children suffer by eliminating him completely from their lives. They believe he loves them, and I don’t want to shatter that illusion.’
‘I don’t think he sees it that way, Nina. I think he still holds a candle for you.’
‘Oh, he knew it was over the day he dumped me and the kids in that trailer.’
‘I’m not so sure,’ he said.
‘Are you afraid he’s going to do something to try and get me back?’
‘Not in the least.’
Oh. Okay. Good.
*
‘Are you sleeping with him?’ Chloe asked out of the blue when they returned Sunday night. Not so out of the blue, on second thought, seeing as we had been alone in the house for forty-eight hours. I should have thought that one out better.
‘Who?’ I said, feigning distraction.
She rolled her eyes. ‘Luke – who do you think, Mickey Mouse?’
‘Chloe! What a question to ask your mother…’
‘Well, are you, or aren’t you?’
‘Of course not.’ What was that about little white lies turning into huge black mushrooms? ‘Our relationship is strictly business.’
Chloe snorted. ‘Dad said you’d better not be.’
‘Well, sweetheart, your father no longer has any say over me. Nor does anyone else.’
I only wished I could shake the image of Jack’s disappointed face out of my head.
*
Later that day I decided I needed to talk to Emma. So I got in my car, drove to Truro and knocked on her door. When she didn’t answer, I pressed the doorbell. Sometimes she was out in the garden with her radio on. I knew
