Free Escape for the Summer by Ruth Saberton Page A

brewed Andi wandered across the flat to the bedroom, stopping only to scoop up some washing draped across the back of the sofa rather than folded up, the way she always left it. So she was a bit of a neat freak? It wasn’t a crime!
    Hang on, though, this was odd laundry. Tom’s tee shirt didn’t smell very clean and she sure he was wearing those Ralph Lauren shorts when she’d left for work that morning. And Andi didn’t recognise that bra...
    There was a loud whooshing in her ears and the laminate floor dipped and rolled like a stormy sea. Andi clutched the sofa for support and for a hideous moment she thought she might pass out. That bra was hot pink and frilly. Andi’s head could fit in one of the cups, maybe even her entire body.
    With a thudding heart she stepped forward and flung open the bedroom door.
    “ Andi!” gasped Tom, when he caught sight of her over his shoulder. “This isn’t what you think!”
    Andi couldn’t help it. She laughed. Unless this was a game of naked Twister and they’d forgotten to fetch the board, she was pretty certain it was exactly what she thought. Tom looked ridiculous with his boxers around his ankles and his naked buttocks poised in mid-air like peeled hard-boiled eggs. Beneath him, Gina from the flat below turned the same colour as her abandoned bra. She’d come home from work unexpectedly and caught her boyfriend shagging a girl with boobs as big as her head and the IQ of a lettuce. What a pathetic, sordid, obvious cliché.
    Tom, scrabbling to his feet, hopped after Andi while attempting to yank up his boxers.
    “Babe! Wait! Shit! Ouch!” In his haste he cannoned off the bedside table and head-butted the wall. Andi hoped it bloody well hurt. “This isn’t what it looks like!”
    Andi whipped round. Suddenly the laughter subsided, replaced by a blast of anger as white hot as the reactive core of Sellafield. How dare he? She’d been slaving her guts out and having to tolerate slimes like Alan and bitchy Zoe just so that her boyfriend could hone his art in so-called Clapham – and in return he was screwing the neighbour, in between Loose Women and the lunchtime news.
    “It’s exactly what it looks like! How long have you been shagging her?”
    A hurt expression settled across Tom’s features.
    “Babes, I know you’re not going to believe me but this is the first ever time. I swear it!”
    He was right. Andi was not going to believe it.
    “God, you’re pathetic,” she said.
    “Come on, don’t be like this!” Tom finally tugged on his boxers. Gina was totally forgotten. “It’s a mistake! It doesn’t mean anything! What can I say to prove it means nothing?” He widened his eyes beseechingly before brightening visibly as an idea occurred. “I know! Of course! What else? Andi, sweetheart, I love you. Will you marry me?”
    Was he totally insane? Who on earth got caught cheating and then proposed? It was like something from a bad soap opera. Then Andi remembered he’d been preparing for an EastEnders audition. Talk about method acting. In a moment he’d be telling her that they could go for a right old knees-up in the square and have a chat with Dot Cotton. Maybe they could even have a wedding reception in the Vic? Oh dear God. Had the last eighteen months with Tom been based on nothing more than him acting the part of her boyfriend?
    “Get up, Tom,” Andi said wearily. “You’re being ridiculous. Of course I won’t marry you. I’ve just caught you screwing another woman.”
    “But can explain! It doesn’t mean anything!”
    There was a lump in Andi’s throat because it meant something to her . She balled her hands into fists, the nails digging into her palms as she fought to keep control. She knew things hadn’t been going well but nothing had prepared her for this.
    “How long has it been going on?” she asked.
    For a moment Tom paused, teetering on the brink of a lie, then he exhaled slowly. He could tell there was no way he could talk his way