A Model Mother

Chapter 12

Fran was a great cook, reflected Miles, she could whip up really simple meals, beautifully cooked, at very  short notice. Knowing Miles’s love of steak, they had stopped at a butchers on the way back to her flat and she had  bought two slices of first class Scottish sirloin that had been perfectly hung; then, into her local grocers for some fresh salad ingredients, a crisp baguette, fresh soft fruit and cream.

All the time whilst she shopped and cooked Francesca gently probed Miles, encouraging him to bring her up to date with Helen, Rose and Max. Miles had hesitated to tell her all about Max, but Fran had guessed he was holding back and had insisted that he spill the beans. Miles didn’t tell her about the ‘photographs of Rose and Max’s probable involvement in them, but he did relay Andrew’s concern about his drinking and the fact that he seemed to have gone AWOL.

Francesca said it was a while since she had spoken to Max , and she was worried about him too.

“Fran, you remember how upset Max was when we broke up, did you think it was over the top?”

She nodded in agreement. “Yes, I thought that his reaction was very extreme. At first I thought he was genuinely upset. But afterwards I must admit that I thought there might be another reason.”

“Such as?” he asked her with interest.

Fran paused and stared at him. She didn’t really want to tell him what she had thought, but she suspected that there was more going on between him and Max than he was letting on.

“It crossed my mind”, she said uncomfortably, “that he might have been in debt, quite badly, and was hoping that a marriage between us would have made a request for a substantial loan from you, more palatable.”

Miles reached over the table and grasped Francesca’s hand. “Thanks. You’ve actually eased my mind. I have had similar thoughts but found it really hard to accept.”

Now it was Miles who paused before asking his next question.

“Do you think he hoped that once Rose was out of the way you and I might get back together again?”

Francesca went a shade paler than normal. “Oh my god, Miles, what are you trying to tell me? He didn’t split you pair up did he?”

Miles squeezed her hand and smiled. “Don’t worry, it’s just my imagination doing somersaults, forget I asked that.”

He mopped up the last bit of delicious vinaigrette from his plate with a piece of the baguette and distractedly wiped his mouth with his napkin. Both he and Fran were lost in thought, one of those comforting lulls after a meal in the company of a trusted and really good friend.

The ring tone of Francesca’s landline startled them both. It rang several times before reverting to answerphone despite Francesca’s scramble to try and get to it first. Miles was taken aback to hear Bill Campbell’s voice. He briefly felt surprised that Bill should guess where he was, but then he saw the blush on Francesca’s face and watched amazed as Francesca lifted the receiver and answered. It was Francesca that Bill was after!

“Hi, babe.”

 Francesca grinned at Miles across the room, whilst listening to Bill and adding “aha” now and again.

“Hey, I have someone here you might like to talk to – we met in town and he came back for dinner. I should warn you, his jaw is somewhere around his knees right now…”

Miles recovered and then he remembered something that had been nagging  him about his last conversation with Bill. He had told Miles that “Frankie” was in town and that he should look her up. He had thought Bill’s use of a nickname for Francesca a bit forward and unusually informal for Bill. Now he understood why. Good grief, Bill and Fran, he really had been blind.