The World Made Yonder Pt. 03

'Thank you, Joey,' she sobbed. 'Thank you for saying that.'

Joey held her close and rested his chin on the top of her head. Ye gods, he thought, what is it with this woman? She could be such a selfish, cold-hearted bitch, yet in moments like this he could almost hear her heart crying out to be loved. It made him sad. He wasn't trying to be nice when he expressed appreciation for what she did—he was just giving credit where he believed credit was due. The problem was that Celia so seldom did things Joey felt authentic respect for, that when he did express appreciation it seemed to overwhelm her. Oh, well...

Joey comforted her for a while, then gently told her the potatoes were about to boil over. Celia smiled, wiped her eyes and went back to the stove. Joey opened a drawer and took out the wine opener. Celia turned to him before he could walk away.

'Joey, you said there were a couple of things. What was the second?'

'I'll tell you after dinner,' said Joey.

* * * * *

When Stephen was put to bed, Joey popped upstairs to kiss him goodnight, but otherwise let Celia take care of him. Joey refilled his glass of wine and went to the living room, sitting on the L-shaped couch and switching on the giant flatscreen. On the list of watched movies was The World Made Yonder. Joey clicked on 'info' and looked at the image above the details. It was a still from the movie—the beautiful Victorian heroine with her hair pinned up, accompanied by her smartly dressed adolescent son. Neither the husband nor the lover was in the picture.

Joey kicked off his shoes, put his feet up and contemplated the image. He was still gazing at it when Celia came into the room. She looked at the flatscreen and winced.

'Christ!' she said. 'Don't tell me you want to see that again?'

'I might do at some point.'

'Well, you can do it without me.'

'Understood.'

Joey took a sip of wine. Celia sat on the pouffe and turned it to face him.

'So...' she said. 'What is this second thing?'

'I won't be home this weekend.'

'Why not?'

'Because I'll be spending it with Lorna. She's the—'

'I know who she is. I looked her up on your company website.'

Celia cocked her head sideways and said:

'Aren't you worried about being sued for sexual harassment?'

'Lorna would never do that.'

'Wanna bet?'

Joey laughed softly and took another sip of wine. Celia got to her feet, walked in a tight circle, then burst out:

'Joey, I hate it when you do that! Cheat on me if you must, but don't fucking laugh at me!'

'Why not?'

'Because there's nothing funny about this situation!'

'I disagree. Celia, look at it from my point of view. I've just told my wife that I'll be spending the weekend with another woman and her first reaction is to worry about my finances.'

'Joey, that's not—'

Celia choked. Joey waited for her to recover and finish her sentence, but she seemed to be gripped by a seizure. She coughed, tears fell from her eyes, and she crumpled to her knees and began to weep. Joey frowned, wondering if this was an act, but Celia's crying sounded harsh and deep. He swirled his wine, trying to play the callous bastard, but found he couldn't do it. With a sigh, he put his wine on the tray and went over to kneel by her. The moment she felt his arms around her, Celia melted into his embrace, weeping and crying.

'I don't care about the money ... I don't care about the money...' she sobbed over and over.

Joey held her, saying nothing. After a while, Celia leant back, her face distorted and tear-stained, her eyes pleading.

'I wasn't worried about the money,' she said. 'I was worried about you.'

Joey bit back his first reaction.

'Okay...' he said tightly.

'No, really. I think Lorna is using you.'

Joey laughed out loud.

'Well, there's the kettle calling the pot black!'

'Yes, okay, but that's kind of the point. It takes a woman to know a woman.'

'Lorna is nothing like you.'

'That's not true.'

'Celia! I don't want to talk about her with you.'

Joey knelt back, his hands on his thighs. There was now distance between them—a small area of carpet which to Celia felt like a suddenly appearing crevasse, like when the ground falls away in an earthquake movie. She nodded sadly and looked at him.

'All right, Joey,' she said. 'Do what you need to do. But I promised Stephen I would do anything to keep this family together and if this is what it takes, then this is what it takes. But let me tell you this: if you want out of this marriage, you'll have to divorce me because I am never going to divorce you.'

'Celia, you ended this marriage the moment you broke your marriage vow. Sure, we're still legally married, but that's just the paperwork. The emotional and spiritual centre of our marriage was the promises we made to each other and that centre ceased to exist the night you fucked Bjorn. Tell Stephen I ended this marriage if you can't face being the Bad Guy, but don't you say that to me.'

Joey rose to his feet and went back to the couch. The flatscreen had gone black, so he picked up the remote and called up the picture, going back to the main menu.

'Listen, I want to watch a movie,' he said.

'Which one?'

'None of your business. Between tomorrow and Sunday evening, you'll have this whole house to yourself, so tonight I want the living room. In other words ... get out.'

Celia's head snapped up. She got to her feet, much of her old indignation back in her eyes. Joey had lived with that expression for eight years and he smiled at its reappearance. He saw Celia's neck go red in response to his smile.

'You can't talk to me like that,' she said in a near whisper.

'Yes, I can,' said Joey. 'And if you don't like it, let's have a fight about it. Because you know what, Celia? I'm starting to enjoy them. For eight years I was worried about upsetting you and now I don't give a shit. So, bring it on, Celia! Bring it on—or get the fuck out.'

Celia stared at Joey, her chest rising and falling. He looked back, part of him hoping that she would take the bait. He was in the mood to tell her what he thought of her. Celia saw it in his eyes and realised that she didn't have the stomach for it. She glared at the floor, racking her brain for a remark which would cut him down to size, make him small.

It came up with nothing.

Looking as though she had swallowed a lemon, Celia stalked out of the room and slammed the door closed.

* * * * *

On Friday morning, Lorna woke up as horny as a cat. Her labia were swollen and the vaginal lips already wet. If everything went to plan, those lips would be welcoming Joey's hard cock that very evening. Lorna's fingers worked her clitoris and, as she played with herself, she imagined that cock sending jets of cum into her vagina, inseminating her. She imagined her breasts swelling and her belly growing. Lorna touched her own nipple and instantly flew over the edge, her body lurching in the throes of orgasm. She came not once, but three times in quick succession and was going for a fourth went her phone alarm went off.

Lorna's fingers were slippery and she felt a fierce wish that Joey were there so she could gel his hair with vaginal juice. The thought turned her on and embarrassed her in about equal measure. She threw the covers back and rolled out of bed, went to the bathroom, took a pee, then stripped off and turned on her shower. It was a decent shower system with good water pressure. Lorna turned up the heat so the water was as hot as she could stand, then stood under the shower head with her hands on the cold tiles and let the hot water pound the crown of her head.

Lorna was scared. Scared and excited. She could no longer pretend—even to herself—that she did not know what her body was saying.

It wanted a baby.

More than that—it wanted Joey's baby. Lorna tried telling herself that she was delusional, getting carried away by her feelings, but her own history argued against it. With past boyfriends, no matter how much in love she thought she was, Lorna always experienced a near-terror at the thought of getting pregnant. Even with a guy she thought she could marry, she was obsessively careful with birth control. As she stood under the shower, hot water drumming her skull and streaming down her body, Lorna called her past lovers to mind, one by one, and felt the voice of her body saying, 'No ... no ... God, no...' Yet when she thought of Joey, her whole loins seemed to heat up. The water on her head felt cool by comparison.

Lorna squeezed out a blob of shower gel and washed herself, then stepped out of the shower, her skin pink from the hot water. As she went through her morning routine, her mind was in turmoil. She was still not on any kind of birth control and, although she had bought a Morning After pill to replace the one she had thrown away, she knew she would never take it.

'Then why did I buy it?' she asked her inner self.

'So you can show Joey if he asks.'

Lorna was shocked at this answer. She realised there was a battle going on—a fight between her desire to be an honest woman and her desire to get pregnant with Joey's baby. And the honest woman was losing.

Lorna went to work a little later than usual and the office was buzzing when she arrived. Joey and Jeremy were in discussion with a couple of animators on the far side of the immense room, and Lorna went straight to her workspace. She switched on her computer, dove into her emails, and before long her mind was fully occupied with the business of the day.

* * * * *

Celia didn't work on Fridays, so after dropping Stephen off at school, she sent Jackie Warren a WhatsApp message to ask if she were free for lunch that day. She got a reply confirming that she was, so at the appointed time Celia made the hour's drive to the city where her old friend from Art College lived and worked.

Jackie had texted the address of an organic food café not far from her office building. Celia arrived on time and found a table near the back, away from the windows. She was sitting on a bench enjoying a transparent mug of ginger tea when Jackie bustled in.

'Darling!' she said as they embraced.

Although Jackie was physically shorter, she always felt like a big sister to Celia. It gave her strength to feel Jackie's stout, solid body as they hugged. They took their seats next to each other like conspirators and Jackie ordered more tea and two bowls of homemade pumpkin soup with fresh dill and a dollop of sour cream, served with hunks of fresh bread on the side. Jackie had read a feminist article she wanted to share with Celia first. Then, when the food arrived, Celia began to update her friend on what was happening with her.

Jackie listened in silence as Celia told her about her confession to Joey, the deal she had tried to make and how Joey reneged on it, and then how Joey had spent the night with one of his employees in a revenge fuck. Jackie interrupted.

'Wait,' she said. 'Was that the night you sent me a WhatsApp?'

'Yes.'

'But you told me Joey didn't know.'

Celia looked uncomfortable.

'Yes, I know,' she said. 'I'm sorry, but I ... that was a fib.'

'The word is lie, darling. Fibs are what children do.'

Jackie sat back on the bench she was sharing with Celia. She had been about to dunk a piece of bread into her soup, but now she tossed it back into the miniature wicker basket.

'I'm sorry, Celia, but that really hurts. Why on earth wouldn't you tell me that Joey had found out about Bjorn?'

'Because I knew how you'd react.'

'And how would I react?'

'You'd tell me it was for the best. You'd tell me that Joey didn't deserve me anyway. You'd tell me that divorcing him is the best thing that could happen to me.'

'Well ... am I wrong?'

'Yes! That's the entire point!'

Celia turned to face Jackie.

'Look, you're always talking about Joey like he's this complete loser and he's not!'

'I never said he was a complete loser.'

'Jackie, the guy runs his own company. He has sixteen people on his payroll. And he and Jeremy did that in five years when they started J&J Animation.'

'Against your wishes, if I remember,' said Jackie, her eyes dark with anger. 'The man had a wife with a one-year-old child, and that's when he decides to start his own business? How selfish can you get?'

'Trust me, Jackie, I gave him plenty of shit at the time. But he made it work and I respect him for that.'

'You respect him?'

Jackie spat the word. She leaned in close, the soups on the table growing silently cold.

'Celia, are we talking about the same man here? A man you told me sulks after every argument? Who sleeps in the spare room whenever you tell him to? Who is so grateful for sex that you struggle to keep a straight face? That Joey?'

'He's changed.'

'Men don't change.'

'Well, then he's different. Maybe this whole Bjorn thing has brought something out of him, something ... deeper. More masculine.'

'What, like his "inner asshole"?'

'Well, yeah! Why not? Joe the Asshole is way easier to love than Joey the "Nice Guy".'

'Celia, he fucked another woman.'

'I know. And he's going to do it again.'

'What?'

'He's going to spend the weekend with her. And it hurts, Jackie. It hurts! But it's my fault. If I hadn't slept with Bjorn, he would never be...'

And Celia burst into tears. Other female diners looked over and Jackie mouthed the word 'Men', then took her sobbing friend into her arms and hugged her.

* * * * *

At around seven in the evening, Joey was standing on the pavement, reaching for the button to buzz Lorna's apartment. It felt strange to be here and not unlocking his own front door and hanging up his coat in the hallway, yet also liberating. He was not here as Joey the Husband and Father, but as Joe the Cave Man, here in defiance of social decency to give a woman with big tits a thoroughly good fucking. His cock was hard just thinking about it.

Lorna buzzed him in and Joey went up the concrete stairwell, his computer bag bulging with the bottle of red wine he had somehow crammed into it. There were two identical doors on the third-floor landing and the one on the right-hand wall was slightly ajar. Joey entered and firmly pushed the door closed, the metal latch snapping to with a loud 'clunk'. There was soul music coming from the living room. Joey hung up his coat, took the bottle of wine from his computer bag and went in.

Lorna was laying the table on the far side of the room near the kitchen doorway. She wore a russet-orange polo neck jumper with tight sleeves which showed off her wonderful bosom and white jeans which showed off an almost equally wonderful bum. She looked good enough to eat. Joey went over to her and they kissed, softly with lips and tongues. Lorna put her hand on Joey's chest and drew away with a sigh.

'Oh, my goodness...' she said. 'We'd better stop or I'm going to jump on you.'

'I wouldn't mind.'

Lorna smiled.

'Let's take our time?' she said.

Joey felt a stab of irritation. 'Is that actually a question?' he thought. Celia did this all the time, as had his mother come to think of it—ask a rhetorical question at which the man was supposed to react by nodding in agreement at the Wisdom of Women. And if you didn't agree, you were 'spoiling things'. But Joey kept his expression neutral and gave the requisite smile.

Lorna went into the kitchen and got busy with something. He could hear her talking, but her voice was slightly muffled by the music. Joey looked around the room and his gaze fell on Lorna's Buddha candleholder, a tea light flickering away in its lap. The Buddha's face was smiling and peaceful. 'He's got the right idea,' thought Joey. No shame, no blame. And wouldn't it be a shame to spoil this evening over some triggered emotional shit?

'Are you okay?' said Lorna.

Joey hadn't realised she had come back in.

'I'm fine,' he said. 'It's just ... well, it's been a hell of a week.'

'Yeah...' said Lorna. 'It certainly has.'

'What are you making?'

'Lasagne. It'll be ready in about ten minutes. Meanwhile, I was making some salad to go with it. Want to open the wine and keep me company?'

Now, that was a real question, thought Joey. If he said, 'No, thanks. I need a few minutes alone', Lorna would be completely fine with it. But the difference was so subtle, it was a miracle he detected it at all.

Joey joined Lorna in the kitchen and the two of them discussed work as they drank red wine. When dinner was ready, Joey brought out the salad bowl while Lorna put a steaming oven dish onto a heatproof table mat. She served portions of lasagne while Joey topped up their wine and the two ate dinner as comfortably as a happily married couple.

'What did you say to Kayla?' asked Lorna at one point.

'Why do you ask?'

'She came up to me and apologised for the "blackmail" remark. Said she was sorry if she jeopardised our professional relationship.'

'Wow.'

'Did you tell her to say that to me?'

'No, not at all.'

Joey gave his account of what he had said to Kayla. By the time he finished, Lorna was looking at him as though he had discovered the cure for cancer.

'You're amazing,' she said.

'No, I'm not,' said Joey. 'It was the right thing to do.'

'Yeah, but how many people do it? How many people know what the right thing is?'

'I'm the boss. It's my job to know.'

'Joey, I've worked with bosses who have had no clue how to handle authority the way you do. In fact...'

Lorna hesitated. She took a mouthful of wine.

'In fact...?' prompted Joey.

'In fact...' said Lorna, taking a deep breath, '...it's one of the reasons I'm in love with you.'

Joey's fork, loaded with a piece of lasagne, froze midway to his mouth. The background music suddenly seemed very loud. Lorna gave a small, worried laugh.

'Well...' she said, '...if you're going to run out the door, it's over there.'

Joey laughed. He put the fork down.

'Sorry,' he said. 'I just wasn't expecting it.'

'I wasn't expecting to say it,' said Lorna. 'And listen, I'm not angling for an "I love you too" or anything like that.'

'I know.'

Joey looked at the lasagne on his plate. Lorna looked at his face.

'You look troubled,' she said.

'I am.'

'Why?'

'Because I'm worried I'm going to hurt you.'

'Of course you're going to hurt me,' said Lorna. 'I'm a woman in love with a man who is not in love with me. It's a classic recipe for getting hurt. Joey, even if we got married and had children, it would still hurt.'

'I suppose.'

Lorna was carefully watching the man's face and she saw that her reference to marriage and children had gone by without him flinching. That was a good sign. She decided to risk taking the conversation to the next level.

'Joey, I bought you something.'

'Oh?'

'I was intending to give it to you on Sunday, but maybe it shouldn't wait.'

'What is it?'

'I'm a bit worried you might be angry. I bought it because of something you told me your wife said.'

'Okay, now I have to know what it is.'

Joey gave Lorna a look. Lorna sat a moment, steeling herself, then got up and went into the kitchen. Through the open doorway, Joey saw her reach for something on top of her fridge-freezer. When she came back, he saw a small white box in her hand—a pharmaceutical box with a picture of a man and a boy on the front. Joey groaned inwardly, already guessing what it was. But when Lorna handed it to him and he read the label, he saw that his guess was wrong.

Male Fertility Home Test.

Joey stared at the box, his dark eyes seeming to bore right through it. Lorna stood hugging herself, trying and failing to read his reaction. She cleared her throat nervously and said: