her fault. ‘Look, we’re leaving right now. We’ll be there in ten minutes – I promise.’
‘You’d better be,’ snapped Jenny, disconnecting the call and shoving the phone back into her bag.
Annoyed, she reached out to open the pub door – at the exact moment that Mark pulled it open from his side. Their gazes met, and Jenny broke out in a cold sweat.
Mark was flat broke – and nowhere near drunk enough to forget his woes. But a pretty face always cheered him up, so he smiled, stepped back, and waved the girl in.
‘After you, darlin’.’
‘Thanks.’ Legs like jelly, Jenny stumbled over the step.
‘Steady.’ Mark reached out and caught her. Then, cocking his head to one side, he peered at her closely. ‘Do I know you?’
‘It’s Jenny,’ she told him in a tiny voice. ‘Jenny Abbot.’
Mark stared some more, then shrugged. ‘Sorry. Doesn’t ring any bells.’
Before she could stop herself, Jenny heard the words that had plagued her entire childhood coming from her mouth: ‘ Ginger Jenny?’
Mark drew his head back and gave her a disbelieving look. ‘You’re joking!’
Pleased that he remembered her at last, albeit at the expense of her pride, Jenny nodded.
Mark looked her up and down. ‘Wow, you look well different. I would never have recognised you.’
Jenny reached up and self-consciously touched her hair. ‘It’s been a long time,’ she murmured. ‘How’s Amy?’
‘All right,’ Mark grunted, his good humour slipping at the mention of his wife.
‘And the baby?’ Jenny went on. ‘Lassie, wasn’t it?’
‘Cassie,’ Mark corrected her. ‘Yeah, she’s good. I’ve got a son now, an’ all,’ he added proudly. ‘Bobby.’
‘Wow, two kids. That’s great. How old are they?’
‘Five and two. What about you?’
‘Me?’ Jenny laughed softly. ‘God, no! Still young, free and single. Not that I’m anti children, or anything,’ she added quickly, fearing that she might have offended him. ‘It’s just not for me, if you know what I mean.’
Mark knew, all right. He’d lost count of how many times he’d wished he could go back to when he’d first met Amy, because if he’d known back then what life as a husband and father was going to be like he wouldn’t have touched her with a rubber-coated barge pole.
Neither of them spoke for several long moments. Jenny shifted her handbag onto her other shoulder. Mark hadn’t made any move to leave yet, and she wondered if it was possible that he wanted to talk some more. She might as well have been invisible for all the notice he’d paid her at school, and he’d completely blanked her on the night of her mum’s funeral. But a lot had changed since then. She certainly had. She might never be as pretty as Amy, or any of the other girls who Mark had knocked about with back then, but she looked bloody good tonight.
‘Look, I’m supposed to be meeting my friends,’ she said, taking the bull by the horns. ‘But I’ve got time for a quick drink if you fancy it?’
‘Er, nah, best not.’ Mark shuffled his feet. ‘I left my wallet at home.’
‘I’ll pay,’ Jenny offered, blushing as soon as the words left her mouth. ‘Unless you’ve got to get back to Amy?’
Mark pulled a face and made a soft snorting sound. ‘She’ll see me when she sees me.’
‘Oh, right,’ Jenny murmured, her heart jumping for joy at the thought that maybe his marriage wasn’t so perfect after all.
Mark was staring at her again. He’d been ashamed after having sex with her at his wedding, and had never dreamed that he would ever want to go there again. But he had to admit that she didn’t look half bad now she’d sorted out her hair and put on some make-up. And, unlike Amy who had totally let herself go since having the kids, she was slim, and her tits faced him instead of the floor.
‘You still live down by the Addy?’ he asked, toying with the idea of persuading her to take him back there for a drink – and whatever else