Eleanor Moran - Mr Almost Right

ELEANOR MORAN

PENGUIN BOOKS

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First published 2010

Copyright Eleanor Moran, 2010

All rights reserved

The verses quoted on pp. are from Remember by Christina Rossetti

The moral right of the author has been asserted

Except in the United States of America, this book is sold subject to the condition that it shall not, by way of trade or otherwise, be lent, re-sold, hired out, or otherwise circulated without the publishers prior consent in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published and without a similar condition including this condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser

ISBN: 978-0-14-195735-7

Mr Almost Right

Eleanor Moran is an executive producer for BBC Drama, where her credits include Rome, Hotel Babylon and New Tricks. Her first novel, Stick or Twist, was published to great critical acclaim. This is her second novel.

For dearest Soph

Have you ever tried kissing a man you desire more than anything in the world with a gearstick lodged between the two of you? Its an evil metallic chaperone, priggishly digging me in the ribs every time I get too close. I greedily reach out to Charles, twisting out of my seat to get closer. Hes slipping his hand inside my shirt now: a heat-seeking missile, desperate for flesh. I force my seat back, determined to grant him easy access.

Baa Baa Black Sheep, have you any wool?

I nearly jump out of my skin at the high-pitched nasal singing thats erupted from the back. What the hell is that?

One for the master and one for the dame

Charles scrabbles about, desperately searching around the dark recesses of the car.

Oh God, Lulu, Im so sorry. Its Theos sheep. Just hang on.

Im ham-fistedly buttoning up my shirt, the spell well and truly broken. Desire a distant memory, all Im feeling now is slutty and stupid. Meanwhile the sheeps reaching an unstoppable crescendo. Lucky sheep.

And one for the little boy

Charles finally shuts it off, but by now Im unlocking the door.

I cant do this, I really cant do this.

He grabs my wrist, awkwardly pulling me towards him.

Hey, come back, its stopped now.

I mean it, Charles, this couldnt be more wrong.

Darling, I

Baa Baa Black Sheep

The sheeps back from the dead, louder and lustier than ever. Its fighting a rearguard action with the two child car seats, which loom menacingly out of the darkness like twin Alsatians. Itd be bad enough if they belonged to my own children, but of course they dont. Theyre his wifes. His shadowy, unknowable wife who Id probably be the best of friends with in a parallel universe a universe in which I wasnt her worst nightmare. I know Im a nice person, Ive got categorical evidence, so how the hell did I end up here? Please dont hate me on sight, Im sure I can explain

Chris de Burgh?

Yes, Alice, Chris de Burgh. It actually suggested I might want to download Lady In Red. Am I wrong to feel this affronted by iTunes? I thought being dumped was insulting, but this might be worse.

You mustve done something to encourage it though. Led it on. Have you been pigging out on Phil Collins to get through the heartbreak?

She gives me a crooked smile as she says it, letting me know how aware she is that Ive been utterly crushed by Steves unexpected rejection. Eyes back on the road, Alice expertly spins the enormous white van round a tight corner, simultaneously shaking a Minstrel into her mouth from the bag thats lying between us. Sometimes its hard to believe were related, let alone identical twins. If I were in charge of this lumbering vehicle, all our worldly goods would be splayed across the pavement by now. Shes been on the planet eight minutes longer of our thirty-two years, but sometimes it feels more like eight years. Shes the responsible one, the one with the answers. Whereas me, Im a little bit of a flake.

Were moving out of our poky two-bedder in Hackney and into a little mews house in Barnsbury. Its going to be a stretch, but Alice has been promoted and Ive got three months work on Last Carriage to Avon, a soapy period drama for TV. I go wherever Zelda the stately costume designer I work with takes me. Shes not been too well recently and Im worried she hasnt taken on board how impossibly tight the budget is. Cut-price crinolines arent really her thing.

Alices nifty driving means were on the doorstep in double-quick time. The street feels like it could almost be a location for the drama, what with the old-fashioned street lamps and poplar trees that punctuate it. We stand on the pavement taking it in. Its a world away from the bustling high street weve moved from.

Its so quiet! says Alice.

Were going to love it, I say fervently, suddenly feeling a profound sense of relief that weve got out of Brecon Road. Im hoping that leaving it behind will help me leave Steve behind, and the stinging disappointment will start to ease. We begin to haul our dining table out of the back, knocking over our grandmothers standard lamp in the process.

Sod it! says Alice. We definitely need some man muscle.

Rufus promised hed come straight after work.

God, Lulu, you know what hes like. Hell start cyber-talking with some troglodyte in Wisconsin about operating systems and totally forget we exist.

Rufus is our uber-geek half-brother. Tall and gangly, with a long, insistent monobrow, were convinced hes a virgin, even though hes pushing twenty. The fact that he works in computer gaming, an industry dominated by lovelorn workaholics with testicles, is hardly aiding his prospects. Alice and I are determined to find a woman wholl appreciate how great he is, but so far weve drawn a blank.

Were inelegantly lugging our sofa out of the back of the van when a booming voice rings out behind us.

You must be the new tenants.

Startled, I drop the sofa on my foot. The voice belongs to a tall, crooked pensioner, whos leaning on a stick.

Um, yes, I say, trying my best not to swear, despite the agonizing pain thats shooting through my big toe.

Twins, eh. What are your names?

Alice and Lulu, stutters Alice, looking uncharacteristically cowed.

Surname? he demands.

Godwin, I squeak, suddenly feeling like its our first day in the army.

Mm, I see, he says, considering us. Were original residents, bought the house in 1960, brought up four children in it. Youll find most people in the street have been here for the duration.

Our eyes swivel involuntarily to the small mews house were moving into. Four children?