Baby Blues and Wedding Shoes
Amanda Martin
AMANDA MARTIN
BABY BLUES AND WEDDING SHOES
Amanda Martin was born in Hertfordshire in 1976. After graduating with first class honours from Leeds University she wandered around the world trying to find her place in it. She tried various roles, in England and New Zealand, including Bar Manager, Marketing Manager, Consultant and Artist, before deciding that Writer/Mummy best summed her up. She lives in Northamptonshire with her husband, two children and labradoodle Kara and can mostly be found at http://writermummy.wordpress.com
COPYRIGHT
Published by 3AD Publishers at Smashwords
Copyright © Amanda Martin 2013
Discover other titles by Amanda Martin at Smashwords.com:
Two-Hundred Steps Home Volume 1
Two-Hundred Steps Home Volume 2
Two-Hundred Steps Home Volume 3
Two-Hundred Steps Home Volume 4
Two-Hundred Steps Home Volume 5
Dragon Wraiths
Amanda Martin asserts the moral right to be
identified as the author of this work
This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental.
All rights reserved.
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Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.
http://www.amanda-martin.co.uk
http://writermummy.wordpress.com
TABLE OF CONTENTS
Title
Copyright
Part One
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Part Two
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Part Three
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Epilogue
PART ONE
Love is not love
Which alters when it alteration finds
Shakespeare, Sonnet 116
Chapter One
“Helen, it's Daniel.”
Helen turned down the hob and walked through the apartment to the lounge, where the phone signal was stronger.
What now? She released her breath slowly so her sigh wouldn’t be audible down the phone line.
“There's been a slight change of plan.”
Of course there has. It would be funny if she was watching from someone else's vantage point. There was always a change of plan.
He really has no concept of what it means once the oven is on. Helen waited silently, praying it was no more than two extra mouths to feed. Any more than that and I’ll have to dial for Chinese and hope nobody notices.
“Their IT woman wants to come too…”
Helen was about to smile when she heard the remainder of Daniel’s news.
“…and she's a macrobiotic vegan.”
“What the hell is one of those? Can you even be macrobiotic and vegan?” Helen had catered to some fussy eaters but this was a new one. “No, don’t worry, I’ll have a look online.” No point asking Daniel. “See you later, Sweetie.” Helen hung up the phone and typed the search into her laptop. She finally located a site that listed things she had in the cupboard, as long as the woman didn’t mind brown rice for dinner and didn’t ask if it was local or organic.
I knew Daniel hadn't paid the slightest attention to the menu I put on his desk. He’s given more attention to our wedding supper than he gives to his business dinners. I thought men generally cared more for business than romance. I guess I'm just lucky.
The thought made her smile as she waited to hear if there were any more last minute surprises. She could put up with a hectic dinner party if the wedding all went to plan.
Humming as she went back into the kitchen Helen grinned at the pile of RSVPs on the breakfast bar.
I came to London seeking my fortune like everyone else. I might not have the dream job but my life is full of riches nonetheless.
Then she giggled at how corny that sounded and went to turn up the hob.
Helen covered her mouth with her napkin to hide a yawn and tried to concentrate on what Daniel was saying. It wasn’t wise to be caught daydreaming, particularly not when he was delivering one of his key findings. To help her focus, Helen concentrated on Daniel’s rich voice, vibrant with conviction, and imagined him saying his vows. As he sat at the head of the table and surveyed his audience she tried to picture him delivering his wedding speech. She felt the corners of her mouth twitch upwards, although there was nothing amusing in what Daniel was saying now.
“Our new system will revolutionise the way workflow is managed, but to maximise effectiveness we must ensure a time and motion study is undertaken, to identify any weak links among employees. There will of course be some deadwood to be cleared out.”
As Daniel announced job cuts with the relish of a chef detailing his latest gourmet menu, Helen chewed at the inside of her cheek.
It’s lucky I love you, Daniel, because you sound like a prick right now.
Feeling an angry flush rise up past the low-cut neck of the dress Daniel bought for her last birthday, Helen turned her focus on the other people sat around the table, trying to gauge their reaction to Daniel’s verdict. On Daniel’s left sat Mike, Daniel’s lawyer, nodding emphatically. Helen looked at his wide-eyed expression and had to suppress a giggle.
If he had a tail it would be wagging.
Steve from Accounts, sitting opposite Mike, was also nodding but in such a way that Helen wondered if Daniel was merely a mouthpiece for Steve’s complicated calculations.
How must it feel to always sit quietly and let someone else take the glory? She tried to imagine Steve delivering the message of necessary redundancies and realised that Daniel was by far the better medium for such news. She couldn
’t imagine Steve’s monotonous voice giving the words much weight.
Sitting between Mike and herself was the Client Director, Andy. Daniel had been brought in at his request so of course he had to look eager at the results of Daniel’s consultancy. As Helen surveyed the Director’s face she realised there was something else there, too.
He’s not really comfortable with this. I guess he’s the one who has to deliver the news to the Unions. I’m glad I don’t have his job.
The last seat at the table was occupied by the late addition, Georgina, head of IT. Seeming to sense Helen’s scrutiny, Georgina turned and met her gaze. Helen shivered and her eyes narrowed.
I should be grateful not to be the only woman for a change, but she’s worse than the men.
Georgina raised her plucked eyebrows once before turning her angular, tanned, shoulders back towards Daniel, effectively dismissing Helen from her mind.
Helen chanced a quick look at the clock behind Daniel’s dark cropped hair and swallowed a sigh. Sitting up straighter in her chair, she tried to project an air of interest. She realised the people around her were discussing Daniel’s pronouncement and she quickly tuned back into the conversation.
“When the new system has been implemented fully, I can envisage us being able to cut our numbers by at least half.” Georgina’s voice was as sharp as her shoulders, cutting through the lower tones of the men.
Helen couldn’t understand why Georgina looked so pleased. Surely it must hurt to lay off staff? Think about the families facing a summer of unemployment and job hunting. Helen fidgeted in her chair and tried to keep her face blank as Georgina and Steve leaned in together, discussing capital savings and other things that made Helen’s mind go numb.
Come on, come on. You’ve heard the news now, surely that’s enough? Let’s wrap this up.
Normally Helen didn’t mind listening to the discussions around the table at Daniel’s dinner parties. When the purpose of the dinner was to entertain clients Helen found the banter enjoyable. Tonight though the talk was all business. It was harder to follow the conversation and even more difficult to look interested.
Besides, I need to get an early night tonight. Maybe if I go get dessert it will move things along.
Helen rose from the table and gathered up the empty dinner plates, reaching silently past the guests. Andy and Steve gave her a smile, but Mike and Georgina both ignored her. Helen felt the flush from earlier beginning to rise again.
As she crossed the tiny hallway between the apartment’s dining room and kitchen she let the muscles in her face drop with relief. The respite was short-lived as an acrid smell ambushed her nostrils when she opened the kitchen door.
“Damn! Daniel’s going to kill me.”
Helen knew she had burnt the dessert before she even got to the oven. The faint smell of chargrilled spiced-apple fruit cake clashed with the sickly scent of lilies. Carefully placing the dishes in a stack on top of the dishwasher, Helen rushed as fast as her dress would allow over to the oven. She could see her reflection peering anxiously back at her from the glass door as she prayed the smell was caused by some unseen food residue. It was a vain hope, the oven was always spotless; Daniel’s über-efficient cleaner made sure of that.
Helen opened the oven door with the caution of a bomb-disposal expert, remembering at the last minute to pull her head back away from the whoosh of steam. She’d lost many a layer of make-up in an impromptu sauna and she didn’t want to exacerbate Daniel’s wrath by returning to the dining room with a shiny face and tendrils of frizzy copper hair curling down her neck.
Sliding the burnt fruit cake on to the granite worktop, as if tender care now would make up for not saving it from the flames earlier, Helen surveyed the cremated dessert and found herself fighting back tears.
“Come on, girl, you can’t cry over cake! Pull yourself together and deal with it.”
Helen thought of Georgina raising her plucked eyebrows at her and felt her knees wobble. Even though this dinner party was no different to a hundred she’d managed for Daniel before, somehow this evening she felt like a contestant on MasterChef, with John and Greg frowning and breathing down her neck.
Fighting a strong desire to sob, Helen stood still for a moment and concentrated on breathing slowly. It took several long breaths before a semblance of calm descended.
“I must be due.”
As she uttered the words Helen became aware that she did feel tender and sore. “Great! That’s all I need!”
She glared at the fruit cake as if it was entirely to blame for her monthly cycle and the hormones that accompanied it. “If I’d known, I’d have prepared a cheesecake!”
Her brain churned furiously, considering what was available in Daniel’s ill-stocked kitchen. She caught sight of the bottle of brandy waiting to be carried through after dinner. She knew there was some custard powder in the cupboard from last Christmas, when she had tried to instil some festive cheer. A brandy sauce would disguise any slight charred flavour. It wasn’t very chic, but if she put the cake in cubes on a plate and drizzled the sauce in a decorative pattern Daniel wouldn’t notice. He never ate dessert.
Ten minutes later Helen felt able to hold her head high as she pushed through the small trolley Daniel had thoughtfully bought, loaded with plates of spiced-apple cake covered in steaming sauce.
If Daniel thought it wasn’t up to her usual standard he showed no sign; he merely glanced up at Helen and gave a slight nod to indicate it was all right for her to serve the dessert course.
Helen loved the sound of brandy sloshing into a glass; it was the signal that dinner was almost at an end. As the guests poured themselves generous measures of amber liquid, before wandering towards the lounge area to have more informal conversation, Helen took the opportunity to clear the table. It made Daniel happy to have the flat back to its pristine state as quickly as possible.
Helen’s ears were buzzing by the time she entered the kitchen and closed the door. Kicking off her heels, she pressed her feet into the cool tiles. Even through her stockings it felt glorious.
I am definitely due, she thought irritably, as she loaded the dishwasher. Either that or I’m worried about tomorrow.
Trying to shrug off the heavy feelings, Helen set the dishwasher to come on after the guests had left and headed back in to join the others.
“Helen, a wonderful dinner, thank you!”
Helen blushed at the unexpected compliment and felt her tummy flutter. She smiled warmly at Daniel who looked slightly bemused. Realising it was one of his colleagues who had spoken, Helen turned towards him, the smile glued in place on her face.
“My pleasure, Mike, I’m glad you enjoyed it.”
“You’re too good for Daniel darling.” He looked her up and down, his inspection making Helen’s palms itch. She smoothed them against her dress and gritted her teeth behind her smiling lips. Mike’s words seemed to finally attract Daniel’s attention. He walked over to Helen and draped a heavy arm around her shoulders.
“Down boy, this one’s taken.”
Helen reached up to clasp Daniel’s hand but he had already dropped it down to her waist, pulling her in close. Helen felt her body respond to the contact as a throbbing sensation tugged at her attention.
Down girl. Later.
Helen wrapped her arms around Daniel’s waist as the door clicked shut behind the last guest.
“That went well.”
“Hmmm.” Daniel’s response was muffled as he began to nuzzle Helen’s neck.
“That IT lady’s a bit spiky.”
“Uh-huh.” Daniel’s kisses moved to Helen’s collarbone, sending shivers all the way down to her knickers. She inhaled and gave in to the sensation. Daniel clearly wanted their normal dinner-party debrief to be post-coital. Right now he had other sorts of briefs on his mind and that was just fine with her. She inhaled the heady mixture of aftershave and brandy and felt her head spin. Helen licked her lips then lifted Daniel’s head up until they were face
-to-face. She looked into his slightly bloodshot eyes then licked her lips again, enjoying the way his eyes widened in anticipation. Pressing her lips against his, she reached a hand down across the front of his trousers and giggled into the kiss at his instant response.
Daniel slowly guided Helen backwards while his hands roved over the sheer-tight dress. Helen wished she had dimmed the lights, as Daniel’s motion took them into the dining area. She was about to suggest it when they stopped abruptly as her bottom bumped into the dining table, thankfully cleared of the detritus of dinner. Sod it; he’s seen my cellulite before. Not that I think he’ll notice.
Daniel murmured something that might have been a compliment as he skimmed his hands over the front of Helen’s dress. Or is he asking where the zip is? Helen guided him to the side and Daniel pulled at the zip, his drunkenness causing him to fumble. Helen resisted the urge to help him, her need becoming as urgent as his. Instead she ran her hands over his chest before pulling at the buttons of his shirt.
Abandoning the zip Daniel pulled the dress up to Helen’s waist and lifted her onto the table, pausing to run his hands appreciatively over the lace stocking tops she had worn purely for this moment. Now, oh please, now. Helen tried to communicate silently to Daniel that taking her on the table would be very welcome. He wasn’t one for chatting during sex so she bucked up into him. She guessed he hadn’t had the forethought to acquire adequate protection as instead he sank to his knees, pulling down the slip of lace that barred his way. Oh yes, good boy. Helen grabbed his hair and gave herself up to the moment.
As she came in a shuddering sigh, Helen resisted the urge to slide off the table to the floor. She knew Daniel would expect reciprocal behaviour and he had certainly earned it. Lacing her fingers through his, slippery with sweat, she led him to the leather sofa. Gazing up into his eyes Helen gave a smile and was rewarded by a look of desire that made her knees wobble. Helen stopped at the foot of the sofa and began kissing down Daniel’s chest, stopping at the belt to slowly remove his trousers. She gave a quick suck before pushing him down to lie on his back. He looked up with glazed eyes as she unpinned her hair, letting the heavy copper locks fall around her shoulders. She then slowly removed her dress and bra, leaving the stockings because she knew the feel of them would drive him wild. Casually Helen straddled Daniel, enjoying the power of his anticipation.
