Love to Hate You: Three's a Crowd

Chapter 3 - Cheesed Off

Tuesday and Wednesday were interminable "lost" days, which consisted of nothing but angst, trepidation, and slow-moving time. Vicky tried to lose herself in Crisis Chris' latest crises about diversity quotas and social mobility, but she was no Justin. She was not the founder and editor-in-chief of Millennial, nor any other left-leaning, self-congratulatory, unprofitable vanity project of a magazine. She just didn't care enough about minority issues when she was worried that she herself could be the minority when it came to the participants in her husband's sex life. No matter how hard she worked, nor how much red tape she unfurled from Chris Colville's endless reel of bureaucratic legalise, she could not stop thinking about Rudy and sex, and Amy and the cheese and wine evening.

Amy suffered from a similar predicament. She tried to carry on with her job as usual, but her eyes were trained on one child in particular, and she couldn't help but look at Isla and think of her as her unborn child's half-sister. She couldn't help but be a bit more patient or a little more generous when it came to Isla's sniffles, lunch portion or turn-taking with her classmates. She couldn't help feeling sick once her morning sickness had subsided, because the annual cheese and wine evening was not where she wanted to air her dirty laundry, and yet what else could she do? She was The Other Woman, and although she'd been wronged, used and lied to, she couldn't help feeling immeasurably guilty. It was that sense of guilt which had led to her agreeing to Vicky's ludicrous fromage et vin tête-à-tête. Her assent to the scheme had been given on the spur of the moment, in a bid to appease a wronged woman – and, if she was honest with herself – in an attempt to keep on the good side of a wealthy family who held no insignificant sway over her employer. In the ensuing forty-eight hours however, careful consideration, rational thought and self-preservation had combined to show her that a cheese and wine showdown with the married father of her unborn child and his wife, was not at all wise. Alas, she had agreed to the plan and all she could do was reconcile herself to her impending doom.

Mattie – who was of course aware of said doom, and who would be party to it by hovering just behind Vicky and Rudy at the cheesy face-off – was also out of sorts. She knew her friend was anxious to have the matter dealt with, and that although Vicky had faith in her husband, she did not have faith in men in general. She knew that Vicky was determined to appear nonchalant, when in reality, she was close to self-combustion. And poor Rudy (she felt bad for thinking of him as "Poor Rudy" when he may have wronged her friend, but she just didn't think he was the type) was none-the-wiser. His wife was distracted and aloof – not an entirely unheard-of state of mind – and he had no idea that he was the cause. Mattie couldn't tell him, because it was against the rules, and it was (to her mind) a real shame, as she felt that only Rudy and his – quite-literally – healing hands, were capable of appeasing her best friend. There was nothing she could do or say, however, until the altercation had taken place, and so Mattie fidgeted at her desk for two days, sending poignant looks at her friend, and dismissive shakes of the head to her husband when Rafe had the forethought to ask what had her so preoccupied.

'The cheese and wine evening,' Mattie told him, on Thursday afternoon, not long before she was due to leave the office.

'What about it?' Rafe replied incredulously. 'It's a load of crap anyway. Shit wine, warm cheese, and a handful of pointless conversations. I can think of plenty of ways I'd rather spend my evening.' Mattie scowled. 'Why don't you go without me? You and Vicky can keep each other company.'

'Because you're a father and you're supposed to take an interest in your sons' school and education, you ignoramus!' came her hot rebuke. Rafe raised a perfectly shaped brow, with a frustrating amount of sex appeal. 'Don't look at me like that!' Mattie snapped, pre-empting a sly remark.