Curve Balls: The Ball Games Book Six Read online

  “He was rather thin,” She agrees.

  “Don’t take him out in a strong wind, you’ll lose him.” I guffaw. “So, what now?” I ask my sister.

  “Pizza Express and a large bottle of wine?” she replies.

  We high five and go find the restaurant.

  One bottle becomes two, and we make our way back to the apartment three sheets to the wind, putting the world to rights. I’ve told Mir I might be in the menopause.

  “Well, you don’t want any more kids and periods aren’t anything women want to keep, so think of the good side. You’ll be done with all that crap. You’ve always done everything before me, so it’s only fair you get the menopause first.”

  I stick my tongue out at her again. It’s always annoyed her that I was the first to get boobs, a boyfriend, have a kid. “It’s the beginning of the end though, isn’t it? It signifies old age. I’m for the knackers yard.”

  “You’re going to be a grandma, and I’ve not even had one child yet.” Miranda cackles. “That’s actually quite hilarious. When me and Vic have ours, it’ll be around the same age as your grandkid.”

  I ignore her deluded comments, but it hits a nerve. I shouldn’t moan so much. Miranda may never get to have a kid. But yes, starting early means I’m a grandma before she’s even a mum. How does that make any sense? I look younger than she does.

  In the apartment we change back into our pjs and lounge about on our beds, not being the slightest bit tired after our afternoon naps. Mir’s phone buzzes with a text.

  She grabs her phone off the side and reads. A triumphant grin appears on her face.

  “He’s asked me to meet him for a coffee in the morning.”

  “Oh, Mir, please turn him down. You can do so much better.”

  “Well if that’s the case, where are they, sis?”

  I shrug.

  “Exactly. So I’m going to take a chance on a bloke I’d never in a million years have gone for before. I’ve nothing to lose. The worst that can happen is it’s boring, in which case I’ll make my excuses and leave.”

  “Fair enough. I’ll hang around in the back of the coffee shop, like a bouncer. To make sure you’re okay.”

  Mir guffaws. It’s lovely to see a huge smile on her face.

  “You’ll do no such thing. He’s seen you before. That’ll kill the date before it starts if he’s looking over his shoulder. I can imagine it now, you doing neck slicing actions and the ‘my eyes are on you’ signal.”

  My sister knows me too well.

  “I’m meeting him at ten. At the coffee shop down the street from here. I’m texting him now to say I’ve to be back by half eleven to get my belongings and get home.

  “Ooh, so half an hour of gossip before we leave.”

  “Yes. You’ll know all the gossip before you go home.”

  I high five her, leaning over the bed. I lose my equilibrium and fall out of bed and down the space in the middle of the two beds. I’m trapped, but I can’t move for giggling, and Mir can’t help me for rolling around with laughter.

  “God, I do love our weekends away, sis,” she tells me.

  “Me too,” I mumble from the floor.

  The next morning Miranda is up and about at nine, whereas I turn over and try to go back to sleep, my head is banging from last night’s wine and my neck is hurting from my fall out of bed. Mir blasts into the room leaving a coffee on my bedside table.

  “You’re far too perky this morning,” I grumble.

  “I’m nervous. I have a date.”

  I slowly sit myself up and lean back against the headboard. “I can’t believe you chatted up the Waterstones assistant based on Brenda’s prediction. You’re cracked.”

  “I know. I mean fancy me acting far out, given my very quiet and unassuming mother and sister, who are ssoooooo shy.” She rolls her eyes.

  “Our mother has a lot to answer for.” I smile.

  “Do you remember when she squirted that couple on the bus with her best perfume?” Mir asks.

  “I sure do.” I cringe. “They smelled. What about when she stuck that bloke who’d sat too near to us in the restaurant with a kebab stick?”

  We start giggling.

  Mir looks at her watch. “Shit, it’s ten to. I’m off. Wish me luck. You can get your stuff packed while I’m out and do a sweep, make sure I don’t leave my coat behind like I almost did the last time we were away.”

  She comes over and kisses me on the cheek and then dashes out of the apartment.

  I lean over to grab my Kindle. An hour in bed in total peace and quiet - reading, and drinking my coffee. Then I’ll get up and quickly shower and pack. This is what minibreaks are all about. I sigh with contentment and start to read.

  Miranda

  I know I’m crazy. Almost certifiable, but I absolutely vowed to myself, made a resolution, that I would give different men a whirl at the dating game. I’ve watched The Undateables. I’ve thought of applying myself. Yes, he wasn’t God’s Gift to Women, but neither am I God’s Gift to Men. I’m an obsessive collector of things: DVDs, books and now cats. The cat thing worries me. That I’m heading towards being the old woman with fifty cats who’s found dead, half-eaten by her pets.

  I walk into the coffee shop. My heart is pounding. Have I made a huge mistake?

  Then I see him.

  Well, I think it’s him.

  His hair is blonde and not greasy. He’s looking at a newspaper, there’s no sniffling in sight, and he has on a navy blue t-shirt and jeans. He is rather skinny. He looks up as if he’s detected my gaze and raises a hand shyly. I make my way over.

  “Hi,” I say.

  “Hi,” he says back. “Take a seat and I’ll get you a coffee. What would you like? Plus choose a bun. It’s on me.”

  “You’re not sniffling,” I remark. “Why do you work in a bookstore if you’re allergic?”

  He laughs, and his face lights up. I see he has really nice green eyes. “I may have been lying about that. I’m recovering from flu followed by a really heavy cold. I’m going to eat around four buns as I need to fatten myself up a bit, I’ve lost loads of weight.”

  “Ah.”

  “I’ve learned a lesson about living on my own. Man cannot survive on fast food. No vitamins. The flu and cold were a double whammy. Hit me for six. Anyway, what would you like?”

  I ask for a latte and a chocolate twist, and he goes to get them.

  Over the course of the next hour, I find he’s recently divorced, loves his job surrounded by books as he adores reading, and has a pet cat, which his wife didn’t wish to keep when they separated.

  We share divorce stories. He’s really, really nice. Yes, he has a large nose but to be honest, it suits him. It adds elegance to his face.

  “So do you usually hand blokes tissues and your business card? Is that your modus operandi?”

  I blush.

  “Sorry, I didn’t mean to embarrass you.”

  I confess about Brenda and how I’d decided to just throw caution to the wind.

  “Well, I’m glad you did,” he says.

  “Me too.”

  “Do you have time for another coffee?” he asks.

  I check my watch. It’s eleven. The first hour has passed so quickly.

  “Yes, a quick one.”

  “Quickies can be good,” he says and winks.

  I blush again.

  “Sorry, I couldn’t resist it.” He smirks and goes to get our coffees.

  I get my phone and send a quick text to Dora who I see has left me two messages asking if I’m still alive.

  “He’s lovely.” I send back.

  “Hurry up back.” She replies. “I’m bursting here.”

  I turn my phone ringer down and put it away in my bag. She’ll have to wait. I’m enjoying myself.

  Vic returns. “Well, if you knew where she was I’d send this Brenda a bunch of flowers as a thank you.”

  “Really?” I smile.

  “Yep. So put me out of my mis
ery. Will you come out with me again? For dinner. I really need fattening up after this virus, so you’d be helping me.” He smirks.

  “Well, I couldn’t turn down assisting a man in his hour of need.”

  “Fantastic. I’ll text you.”

  “That’ll be lovely. Well, I must go and say goodbye to my sister and get myself back home.”

  He stands up at the same time. “I’ll walk you out.”

  I follow him out of the coffee shop.

  “Well, see you soon,” I say.

  “I’ll text you later.” He leans over and kisses me on the cheek.

  The skin on the back of my neck tingles.

  “Speak soon.” I give him a little wave as I walk towards the apartment.

  “Oh my god, look at your face, you’re swooning,” yells Dora.

  “Yes, well I’ll never judge a book by its cover again that’s for sure.”

  “Are you seeing him again?”

  “Might be.” I wink.

  “Oh my God. I did it again. I am such a matchmaker,” Gasps Dora.

  “Erm, what?”

  “Well, when that Brenda made her crap up, I booked this minibreak so it seemed it might come true, and now you’ve got a date. I’m bloody awesome.”

  I step back and shake my head. She did book the apartment above Waterstones, so I’ll let it ride, although I don’t recall her encouraging me with Vic.

  “Come on, grab your cases. Let’s get to the train station,” I tell her.

  I want to get home and daydream about Vic.

  Chapter Seven

  Tim

  Where is my other half? Please get here soon, Dora, before I top myself.

  I’m in the Red Lion with Cam, Dylan, Tyler and Lindsay.

  Lindsay isn’t eating. In fact, she keeps sitting and gipping, then running to the loo. She’s putting me off my roast. Tyler seems anxious, is constantly fidgeting and isn’t eating his own meal as he keeps checking on his partner.

  Cam and Dylan have just had a spat in the middle of the pub, because apparently neither appreciates the other one or what they do. So Cam is eating noisily, stabbing her fork into the plate and Dylan has gone mute.

  Why did they come? I’d have been happier on my own with a pint and my lunch.

  Then she’s here. She bursts into the pub like a hurricane and after almost knocking several customers off their seats with her small suitcase she plops into the chair next to me, after kissing my cheek.

  “I’m famished.”

  “Well, go get your carvery; we’re still eating as you can see, so you’ve made good time. How was it?”

  “Really good. Mir met a bloke. She’s smitten already.”

  “What? You only set off yesterday morning. How’d that happen?”

  “Let me grab my dinner, and I’ll fill you in.”

  Dora brings us up to date…

  “So, she came back this morning looking all smug and loved up!”

  “Huh, well once she realises she’s not appreciated that’ll wear off,” declares Cam.

  “Yeah, once she can’t be bothered to come home to see him, he’ll get fed up,” retorts Dylan.

  Dora looks at the pair of them. “What the hell is going on here?”

  “Dylan says I have to cut down on my hours at Kid Zone.”

  “I actually said you were working too hard and I never got to see you. I suggested you let Gemma do a bit more.”

  “Well, forgive me for wanting to run my own business.”

  Dylan stands up, his dinner half-eaten. “Excuse me, all of you,” he says. Then he turns to my daughter. “Cam, go run your business. It’s obviously more important to you than I am.”

  “Where are you going?” she demands.

  “I’m going home. I’ve been working all week myself, and I’m knackered.”

  “But I’m not ready yet.”

  He shrugs. “I don’t care. I’m doing what you do and putting myself first. I’m going home and going back to bed for the afternoon. You please yourself. I know Sunday’s your day off but go to Kid Zone if you like. You have been lately, so why should this Sunday be any different? I’m done.”

  Cam looks panicked. “What do you mean you’re done?”

  “I’m done asking you to spend time with me. Go marry Kid Zone.”

  With that, he walks out of the pub.

  Cam sits in silence with her head down staring at the table. Then she bursts into noisy sobs.

  Dora turns to me. “I’m going to take her to ours and see if I can get to the bottom of this. I’ll grab a sandwich later.” She looks longingly at her cooked lunch then stands up.

  “Okay, love.”

  Tyler walks over from the direction of the toilets. “Hey, Dad. I’m going to take Lindsay home. Sorry, but she’s really sick again today.”

  “No problem, son. You take care of your girl.”

  Within five minutes I’m all alone. I go to the bar and order another pint and a treacle sponge pudding.

  Peace at last. I make the most of it before I return home to see what’s happening with my daughter.

  Dora

  I’m trying to play it cool. It’s like being back in time. Dylan used to make her cry when she was at school with him. I’ve been round his parents house before now threatening to beat his head in, but this time I have a feeling it might be my girl who’s causing the trouble.

  I sit her on the sofa and hand her a kitchen roll. We only have tissues when one of us is full of the cold. Then I run out to the shop for those with the nice oils that stop your nose feeling like it’s been sandpapered. The rest of the time, bog roll or kitchen roll suffices. With how much she’s crying I reckoned the double-strength was required.

  “It’s all going wrong, Mum.”

  She starts again with noisy sobbing. I wait it out because she needs the release.

  Finally, she calms down enough to talk. As she blows her nose, I fetch her a glass of water. She takes a sip.

  “So what’s going on?”

  “I’ve been spending every hour I can at Kid Zone. Apart from Gemma and the kitchen staff, the other girls don’t really pull their weight, even though I’ve asked them. I’m trying to do everything. It’s helped since Beth took over the kitchen so I’ve not had that to supervise but the rest of it, it’s never ending. I’m on the floor all day and then when we close I have to go into the office to do paperwork. I’ve been popping in on Sundays. Dylan’s lost it with me. He told me he wanted me to take another day off in the week, so I had two days off like him. I said I couldn’t, but he thinks I just won’t. We’re no further forward with our wedding, so he thinks I don’t want to marry him. He keeps telling me he works full-time too and he’s not being appreciated. That he gets home and has to cook and I walk in late, eat it and go to bed. That I’m too tired to ask him how he is. It’s true, but Mum all my savings are tied up in that business. I can’t let it go under.

  “Why haven’t you told me this before, Cam? I could have helped.”

  “With what? I’ve got staff, it’s just some of them are useless.”

  “Well, that’s what I can help with, sweetheart. Let me come and see what’s happening at Kid Zone and we’ll look at what can be done, hey?”

  She nods her head. “Thank you. I do want to have two days off. It’s just I feel I can’t trust them.”

  “But you do have Gemma. She can take on some of the responsibility.”

  “I know, but she’s having a really hard time lately. Her mum’s been getting aggressive, and Gemma’s had to deal with services. She’s had to change her shifts around a lot.”

  “Poor Gemma. Look, love, Beth’s needing me less and less since she started using your kitchens as she has the Kid Zone staff, so I’ll come in and see what I can do to help.”

  “Thanks, Mum, but it’s going to take a miracle for me to be able to leave that place in someone else’s hands.”

  “Well, Mum’s are miracle makers, haven’t you worked that out yet?” I stroke
her cheek. She’ll always be my baby girl.

  She smiles.

  “That’s better. A smile on my beautiful girl’s face. Now, the wedding. Do you want to sort things out with Dylan? Are you sure he’s the one?”

  “God, yes. What if he finishes things with me, Mum? I couldn’t stand it.” Her voice breaks on the last word.

  “The man loves you. That’s why he’s giving you so much grief. The time to worry is when he stops caring. Now, you need to go home and tell him everything you’ve told me about the business. Tell him you’ve heard him, his points are valid and that you’re working on it and should be able to have your days off back within the next couple of weeks.”

  “But what if that’s not true?”

  “It will be true, Cam, because if I can’t sort those girls out — which let’s face it is unlikely — I’ll work there myself so you can have the day off.”

  She kisses my cheek. “Mum you are one in a million.”

  “I’m the best there is, don’t you forget it. Now, you also need to start planning this wedding. I’ll come in tomorrow to see what’s happening at Kid Zone. If we get organised enough, you can have this weekend off to visit some venues.”

  “But, Mum, I don’t have time to look for venues.”

  I wave her concerns off. “I’ve been to loads of weddings around here. Most of my friends have been married twice now. I’ll ring up three venues from your office tomorrow and make arrangements for you to visit. Now go home, make nice with Dylan and then shag his brains out so he can’t think straight.”

  “Mother!”

  “I’ll see you tomorrow. I’ll be there when you get there. What time’s that?”

  “I’ve been arriving at six-thirty.”

  “I’ll see you at seven-thirty. Do not arrive any earlier than that.”

  “But I’m used to waking up at that time,” she protests.

  “Shag Dylan again. He’ll have the face on less if you’re late home.”

  She rolls her eyes at me. I ruffle the hair on top of her head. “You’ll always be my baby you know? Now, come on. I’ll drive you home.”