Page 51 of Dancing Fools and All That Jazz

Monica

Ruby and I have a wonderful afternoon in Paris. The sun is shining and after a stroll around some of the key exhibits in the Louvre, we head for the river, and I use Vince’s credit card to pay for us to go to the top of the Eiffel Tower to take in the views.

‘Is it just me, or is this tower wobbling?’ Ruby grips the handrail tightly.

‘I guess it moves in the breeze. Wait, are you scared of heights?’

‘No. Well maybe a little.’

‘And you let me bring you up here? Mad woman. Besides, I didn’t think Ruby Anderson was scared of anything.’

‘Hey, the only thing that really scares me is the thought of Will staying a teenager forever.’ She laughs but then folds her arms and adds, ‘Or never forgiving me when he finds out about his biological father.’

‘You’re going to tell him, right?’

‘Yes, but no matter how many times I rehearse it, it all comes out wrong.’ Ruby puts on a sugary voice.

‘Darling, you were a moment of passion, a freak sperm and an impossible egg… Nah. Or, Will, the truth is, your birth father and I had a quick fling, but he wanted nothing to do with you, and besides it turned out he was a dirty rotten cheat, anyway.’

‘Ouch.’

‘Or, I had a load to drink on my thirtieth birthday and ended up pregnant. Best birthday present ever…’

‘That’s better.’

‘But when he asks if Dev knows about him…’

‘You have to say yes. But he has to know Dev chose not to be involved.’

‘How hurt will that make him feel?’

‘You’re just going to have to steel yourself for it, but Ruby you’ve been a great mum and Will knows that, deep down. I expect Joanne will be histrionic and James will go ballistic when they find out I’m divorcing their father, but I’m banking on them eventually realising it’s for the best.’

‘Will you tell them he’s a cheat?’

‘I’ve thought about that. If I’m honest, the adultery was just the final straw.

We were never happily married; forced into it by my mother.

We almost split up, but then I found I was pregnant with the twins.

It worked out when they were little, but since they started school, he and I have been living separate lives.

Anyone who saw us together – yes, barely anyone – must wonder how we lasted this long.

I need to speak to him away from the twins and maybe he’ll agree to an amicable separation on the proviso we don’t tell them about the coup de grace . ’

‘Ooh. Get you with your French. Swotting up in case you see the lovely Jean-Claude again?’

‘Nothing could be further from my mind…’

‘Monica Thornton, you damn well know he’ll be coming to watch you later. OK, go quiet on me. Hey, talking of dates I wonder how Vince got on last night. You do realise he’ll know you set him up when he finds your mobile number on the dummy profile?’

‘I guess. It wouldn’t take the brain of Britain to discover who hacked his account. He may well have tried to call me, but I’ve resolved to only to speak to him face-to-face. Turns out it was meant to be – my phone getting smashed.’

‘I’d love to know if Max has tried to get me.’ Ruby’s eyes glaze over before she snaps out of it and smiles. ‘Damn it. Why did he have to be so cute. Come on, let’s get back to terra firma . My stomach’s flipping every time I look down.’

The smell of freshly made crêpes greets us at the base of the Eiffel Tower and we buy a portion each from the kiosk. The River Seine sparkles in the April light as we walk along the banks, biting into the hot pancakes and licking our fingers as chocolate drips over our hands.

‘You won’t continue to work with Arsy-Annabelle, will you?’

‘I’ve been thinking about that. Jean-Claude started his business from scratch, so there’s no reason I can’t do the same. Besides I can launch it with my festival wedding dress – after all it was my creation – and Annabelle can’t claim any different.’

‘Go, Monica. We have to think up a name for your bridal wear. How about Drop-Dead Dresses? Monica’s Marriage Moulds?’

‘Mould? Not a good word in the same sentence as marriage.’ I laugh. ‘Well unless you’re referring to my marriage. Groan.’

‘Hey, Fabulous Frocks to Get Hitched In, or Get Saddled in Style…’

‘Saddled?’

‘Now you’re being picky.’

We cross the river and traverse the large square of Place de Concorde to slowly walk through the Jardin des Tuileries , admiring the foliage and breathing in the warm Paris air. A wedding party is having photographs in front of the box hedges beside the palace, and we stop to admire the outfits.

‘Got it. How about Wed-in-Style by Monica? You could weave the W of Wed into the M of Monica as your logo?’

‘Now you’re talking. I can visualise that. Wed-in-Style by Monica. Maybe I should employ you as my media consultant?’

‘Hey, I’m going to be too busy setting up my new online dating agency.’

‘You’re going to do it, then?’

‘I’m not going to be outdone by my best mate.’

‘And what will you call this new agency?’

‘Let me think, Core Connections? Date or Dump…’

‘No.’

‘How about Pick-and-kiss? Or Insta-men?’

‘Terrible. Maybe something with the word match?’

‘Match… MatchFix. I like that.’

I can’t bring myself to say it sounds like a site for those wanting to fiddle the football results and let Ruby bubble on about how her site will be uniquely different to anything currently out there.

‘It’ll be a real opportunity to get to know someone before meeting up in person. I may even discourage photos until the third or fourth communication. You know how some people only go by looks… Hey, lookey over here…’

The scent of exotic perfume along with a swanky shop front forces us to divert to a fashionable perfumery outside the gardens where we try out some of the latest brands.

‘This smells divine.’ Ruby liberally sprays some Yves Saint Laurent on her wrists and breathes it in. ‘Blow the expense, I’m going to get a teeny bottle.’

‘Good idea. I need a new scent, something that fits my new business persona.’

Ruby looks at the brand name of the bottle I’ve picked and whistles. ‘Jeepers! That costs a fortune.’

I wave the credit card and wink. Ruby gives my arm a light punch.

Strolling back towards the theatre, our conversation drifts back to Vince when Ruby spots an internet café.

‘Monica, let’s grab a cuppa and you can use the computer to go on the Spontaneous Encounters site and set up a meeting with him. There’s a calendar section of the app where you can put in details, and it’ll come up on his mobile.’

‘I thought about that but unfortunately I won’t be able to intercept him before he gets home tomorrow.

Our train out of Paris is not until lunchtime.

He’ll be home long before me. If only I could get back tonight, I could have it out with him while the twins are in school during the day.

I can’t bear the thought of stewing over it for another week or more… ’

‘We could see if there’re any flights home after the show.’

‘Good idea.’

Ruby searches the internet as we sip our coffees. ‘No. Nothing. There’s a late flight to Manchester but it’s fully booked.’

‘Oh well, it was worth a try. My turn.’ We swap seats and load the SE site.

‘That’s a surprise. I can still access it.’

‘Maybe he hasn’t figured out you set up the dummy profile?’

I scroll through his account. ‘He has shut the Butch profile down. Perhaps he thinks he was hacked and doesn’t realise I did it?’

‘What an idiot not to change his access password.’

‘Ruby, look. He has cleared all the dating history on his other profiles. Not a single date record…’

‘Trying to cover his tracks, the shit. I bet he panicked after yesterday. And I guess he still may not have twigged it was you.’

‘And look, he’s emptied his message box… Wait. There’s an unopened message in the inbox from Venus. It’s only just come in.’ I click on the envelope icon.

Ruby peers eagerly over my shoulder and reads aloud.

‘Well Clint, or should I call you Butch? I was going to report you for multi-dating without permission – a category one offence – but as it happens, I ended up having a blast with the guys from the Friends of Dorothy Show and I’m glad I left you to it with those three women and that horrid little dog.

I hope your bite heals but it is no more than you deserve, you greedy cowboy.

Next time you want a one-to-one I may consider it – you’re kinda cute – but if you’re looking for the same kind of showdown, don’t howdy me. Laters.’

Ruby laughs. ‘That pooch had the right idea. What, Monica – why the frown?’

‘I was sure he’d find out. I mean, I was banking on it. I want him to know it was me. I want it crystal clear that I know everything, and this is the end of our marriage.’

‘You need to send him a message. I can’t think how you can do this from his profile… Hey, what if I log on as Scarlet and you send your message from there?’

‘Do it.’

Within a few minutes, I have devised my message.

Vince. This is not Scarlet. This is me, Monica, and I know everything. I will make myself very clear. It is over. You will pack up and leave. We will talk arrangements away from the children as soon as possible.

I press send.

‘There, done. Are you all right Ruby.’ I watch her jump to her feet.

‘Frigging hell, look at the time? We’re dancing soon.’

‘Damn. Come on, we can warm-up by sprinting to the Opéra Bastille .’

We race along the dual carriageway leading to the theatre. As we approach the circular steps, we see large crowds gathering outside and spilling down the road.

‘Are all these people coming to watch the show?’ I shout to Ruby as we slow from our run.

The place is heaving with large groups making their way up to the entrance where a long queue has formed.

‘What’re they doing here?’ Ruby starts to push her way through as she points to a number of camera crews outside the foyer.

‘ Excusez-moi . Pardon…’

A technician diverts us to sidestep a reporter who is giving a live bulletin about the Expression show. Ruby and I raise our eyebrows at each other.