The Shelf

by Helly Acton

  ‘I was a stay-at-home mum of two.’ Kathy laughs. ‘For all my sins!’

  ‘For all your sins?’ Flick turns to her, looking worried.

  Kathy is taken aback. ‘Not really. Sorry, I was only joking.’

  ‘How old are your kids?’ Amy asks, changing the subject to remove the tension.

  ‘Well …’ She looks at the floor. ‘That’s why I said of sorts. I don’t actually have any kids. Yet. I’m working on it!’ She smiles.

  ‘Mimosa, anyone?’ says Jackie, coming back with a tray of prosecco and a carton of orange juice.

  ‘Just the juice for me, thanks,’ Flick says.

  The housemates pause and look at each other, surprised.

  ‘You’re gonna need to drink on here, my love.’ Jackie shakes her head. ‘It’s the only way to get through it.’ She throws back one of the flutes and replaces the prosecco with juice.

  ‘I’ll be fine,’ Flick replies. ‘I’m not a big drinker.’

  ‘So, Flick,’ Lauren says, reaching for a flute, ‘tell us about the twat who put you here.’

  ‘Oh no, he’s not like that. Actually, I’m still in a relationship. His name’s Simon, and we’ve been together for about four years. We met at my old practice. I’m a paediatrician. Was a paediatrician. I don’t practise anymore. I saw the ad for the show in LAD and decided to apply for myself. I want to get some pointers for the areas where I’m lacking.’

  Kathy looks around at the others, who also seem confused. ‘Isn’t the whole idea that we’re dumped here?’

  ‘That’s what they said when I first applied,’ Flick replies. ‘But then they called me back a few days ago out of the blue. They told me they’d changed their minds and that it would be fun to throw in a curveball, one week into the show. So here I am. A curveball!’

  ‘Why were you reading LAD?’ asks Gemma, her nose wrinkling.

  ‘I read it all the time. It helps me figure out what men want. I read the other day that men hate it when women wear too much make-up.’ Her eyes linger on Gemma’s pink lips and painted eyebrows.

  ‘Yeah, I think I’ll stick to Cosmo,’ says Gemma.

  ‘Flick.’ Jackie leans in, looking worried. ‘You do realise how evil this show is, don’t you? You do realise it’s run by a bunch of men who want to brainwash us into thinking we need to better ourselves?’

  Flick stares at her for a few seconds, then smiles. ‘Careful, Jackie, men hate it when women say they’re feminists. Besides, I think we could all do with some fixing. If I was single, I’d feel really lucky to be here. The Shelf is going to give you all the best chance of finding – and keeping – a good man, like my Simon.’

  ‘Not sure I want to, thanks, love,’ says Jackie.

  ‘Then why bother?’ Flick asks.

  ‘For the shits and giggles, obviously.’

  ‘So, Flick’ – Kathy turns to her – ‘why did you chooe to be a stay-at-home partner?’

  ‘I did it to save our relationship. Even though Simon and I were working together, we had long hours and worked weekends. We struggled to even share a meal. We only saw each other to say good morning and goodnight, or to mumble a professional greeting in the surgery corridor. And when we did spend time together, all we ever talked about was admin and DIY. I mean, what’s the point of being in a relationship if you never spend proper quality time together?’

  ‘Sounds like the perfect relationship to me,’ Amy jokes, hoping Jamie hears her.

  ‘Well, I hated it. With me at home, the time we have together is about us, not about what needs fixing in the house, because I’ve already had the time to sort it. We couldn’t be happier.’

  ‘Looks like it, what with you in here ’n all,’ says Lauren.

  ‘How come you had to stay at home, not Simon?’ asks Jackie pointedly.

  ‘Well, the surgery had been my whole life, all day and every day for over five years. I was looking forward to having a break and doing something different for a while.’

  ‘Being a stay-at-home mum, wife or girlfriend is fine, if that’s what you want,’ Kathy says. ‘As long as you don’t put all your eggs into that one basket, believe me. And as long as Simon doesn’t treat you like a round-the-clock maid.’ She downs the rest of her mimosa and shakes her glass at Jackie for a top-up.

  ‘Simon works really hard to support both of us,’ Flick says defensively. ‘The least I can do is offer him a home-cooked meal in a clean and comfortable house. I don’t think that’s too much to ask. If it makes him happy, it makes me happy.’

  ‘Well, that’s it, Flick,’ Kathy replies. You work really hard to support him, too, don’t you? The only difference is, you don’t get paid.’

  Amy feels her pulse rise. ‘Flick, you just said to Jackie, “why bother?” But why are you on here, then? First you say you need some self-improvement, but then you say you two couldn’t be happier. So which is it? How can you be in a such a perfect relationship if you’re here, with us?’

  ‘Seems a bit unfair to the rest of us,’ Hattie adds.

  ‘I said we couldn’t be happier, I didn’t say we were perfect. Relationships need constant work.’ Flick shrugs her shoulders. ‘Why are any of you here? If it’s just for the money and fame, that’s not fair either. None of you is taking this seriously, as far as I can tell. All you do is sit around hating men, trashing the tasks and refusing to admit you have flaws.’

  ‘We all have our own reasons for staying, but we also want to show everyone how much scrutiny and pressure we get on the outside,’ Amy replies, trying her best to sound as calm as Flick. ‘And I’m really sorry, Flick, but you’re not helping the cause. But I suppose if your goal in life is to be the perfect 1950s housewife, that’s your choice.’

  Amy sighs, looking around the rest of the group for some support.

  ‘Well, that’s the thing. It is my choice.’ Flick looks down. ‘And I’m happy.’

  ‘Yes, you keep saying that.’

  ‘So if you win,’ Jackie says, ‘Simon gets the million pounds?’

  ‘No, we get the million pounds.’

  ‘Well,’ says Jackie, smiling at her. ‘Sounds like he’s got it all under control.’

  Fourteen

  Amy wasn’t the world’s best fake mum, but she wasn’t the worst, either. Jackie probably took that crown when she marched into the garden and flung Alice into the pool to stop her from crying as she was trying to cook. Flick sprinted after her, but it was too late. Alice didn’t cry after that. Hattie wanted to hold a funeral, but Jackie told her she was going to try cryogenics and shoved her into the freezer next to the fat-free frozen yoghurt.

  No more vomit-wiping, feeding, changing, reading, singing, worrying that she’s killing Ben or feeling like an idiot every time the public call her out for slipping up. Last night, without Ben, was blissful. She actually slept.

  In the Oh, Baby! test, the most brutal comments have always come from real parents, who seem to spend their entire time watching and judging them. No matter what the housemates do, there’s always been someone who’s ‘frankly disgusted’ and delighted to tell them they’re doing it wrong. Like the comment yesterday morning.

  @mamofchamps What fucking idiot would put a baby on a counter while she makes a cup of tea? #amy #theshelf

  ‘Great example to set for your kids! Hope you enjoy visiting them in prison when they’re older,’ Amy had shouted back.

  Giving it back to @mamofchamps and now a mini-confrontation with Flick – Amy is never normally this bolshy, especially without the protection of online anonymity. Maybe Gemma, Jackie and Lauren are rubbing off on her. Whatever it is, she’s getting a kick out of it.

  Being sucked into the world of competitive parenting is one of the few but real fears Amy has about babies. She was once exposed to the horrors of it through one of Jane’s coffee mornings, when she was duped into thinking it would be just the two of them. Having the twins there was enough of a downer, but it was made worse when they were joined by Jane’s entire NCT class,
who formed a loud swarm that forced everyone else to leave. The entire two hours was a shouting match of one-ups about what Roo, Delilah and Zebedee had achieved in six months of being squeaking blobs. She remembers sitting there, being ignored and wondering why they weren’t more supportive of each other. You could see they were all struggling, from the exhaustion in their eyes and the fake smiles. No one wanted to admit they were finding it hard. That’s not what good parents do, is it?

  One of her colleagues came into the office last year with a newborn, and Amy felt obliged to go over and start cooing. Her colleague wasn’t a Jane; she was honest. She told Amy that she hadn’t slept in two weeks, that she was bored and terrified she’d made a huge mistake. That parenthood was a massive let-down, and to hold off for as long as possible. Then she made Amy hold the baby while she went to talk to the others for a suspiciously long time. The baby was sick on both shoulders and left Amy with two shattered eardrums.

  Amy looks over at Flick, who’s been staring out of the window despondently for the last few minutes.

  ‘You all right there?’ Amy asks.

  ‘I’m OK. I’m just sad I missed out on the baby challenge. The one thing I really wanted to do. You girls were so lucky to experience that.’

  ‘Don’t worry. Who knows, on here? They might make a comeback. Like a scene from a horror movie.’

  ‘I hope so. I’d love to see the look on Simon’s face. Me with my own baby.’

  The rest of the housemates join them on the sofa. Everyone looks relieved, even those who took to motherhood like ducks to water.

  The screen flickers on and the opening sequence starts.

  WEEEEEEEEEH, WEEEEEEEEEH!

  ‘Good evening, Yummy Mummies! Bet you won’t miss that sound, will you?’ shouts Adam. He pops out from behind an audience member and runs down the aisle wearing a giant nappy, the audience in hysterics behind him.

  ‘He really is such a fookin’ tit,’ mutters Lauren as Adam hops onto his chair in front of the six cots.

  ‘What a first challenge, ladies and gents! We threw them straight into the dark depths of motherhood for four days, and for some mums, it was a piece of cake …’

  Footage of Kathy shows her rocking Ruth to sleep to the sound of a lullaby, followed by aaaaahhs from the audience.

  ‘… for other mums, it was no picnic!’

  Cue footage of Jackie putting Alice in the freezer to the theme tune from Psycho.

  ‘Here to tell us how the mums performed in their roles are celebrity paediatrician Dr Michael Macpherson and author of Mother Nature: The Modern-Day Guide to Traditional Parenting, Clarissa Fenton-Brown!’

  The audience cheer as the two guests come on stage and peer into each cot with a mixture of adulation and disgust, before taking a seat on the stage sofa.

  ‘So, Dr Mike and Clarissa F-B, tell us what we’re desperate to know: who were the best and worst mothers you witnessed this week?’

  ‘For the worst, it was a close call between Jackie and Gemma,’ says Dr Mike through a thick white moustache. ‘Women are born with maternal instincts. It’s in their nature, no matter what they say.’

  ‘Not mine, Dr Shit Moustache!’ Jackie shouts at the screen.

  ‘But I have serious doubts about some women’s capabilities,’ he continues. ‘Jackie has to take the crown for the worst mother I’ve seen this week. Well, probably ever. Not only did she kill Alice and stuff her body in a freezer, but she also broke poor Sophie’s arm. Very distressing indeed.’ He shakes his head and his moustache vibrates.

  ‘I have to agree with Dr Mike, Adam,’ interjects Clarissa. ‘Appalling behaviour. And unfortunate for Hattie, who had been doing so well up until then. She’d nailed her routine.’

  Hattie beams.

  ‘Well done, Hattie!’ shouts Gemma, slapping her on the back.

  Jackie laughs. ‘Why can’t people get that it’s just a doll, for Christ’s sake!’

  ‘Come on, Jackie, this was never about them being dolls.’ Flick blinks her big eyes at a bewildered Jackie and turns back to the screen, slowly sipping her warm water infused with lemon juice. ‘It was much more important than that.’

  ‘What are our thoughts on the only experienced mother in the group – Kathy? Dr Mike?’

  ‘Ruth here is in rude health.’ He chuckles. ‘A perfect pulse, a radiant glow, no scratches that I can see. A beautiful bouncing baby. Well done to the mother. Top job.’

  ‘Kathy couldn’t have shown more patience and care with her baby. But I can’t give her full marks. Take a look at this, Adam.’ Clarissa points to the big screen.

  The TV cuts to grainy footage of Kathy rocking Ruth to sleep. The camera zooms in to show Kathy wiping tears from her cheeks.

  The housemates swivel their heads around to look at her, and Kathy brushes it off, shaking her head. ‘It was nothing, I was just tired. Weren’t we all?’

  ‘What do you mean, Clarrie?’ Adam says, holding the microphone next to her.

  ‘Babies are sponges, Adam. They absorb negative emotions, stress, psychological strain. Kathy shouldn’t have been crying so close to the baby. Mothers – if you feel the tears coming, hide yourselves away. Motherhood is a hard job, but it’s also your job. You accepted the role. It’s the most important responsibility you will ever have. What happened to the British stiff upper lip?’

  ‘And how did Amy take to the responsibility? Clarissa?’

  ‘Amy is a typical new mum. Clueless, but kind. Feeding him too much, putting him to sleep too much, no routine at all. It’s no wonder she was whining about being tired. Amy has the potential to be a good mum, but she needs to put a lot of legwork into learning what it takes before she does.’ Clarissa looks sternly at the camera.

  ‘Of course I’m clueless,’ Amy protests. ‘I’ve never looked after a baby in my life!’

  ‘Ignore them, babes.’ Gemma pats her on the leg. ‘You did brill.’

  ‘So that leaves me with one final question,’ Adam continues. ‘Who was our Mam of the Match? Our Mother of the Week?’

  Dr Mike walks behind the sofa and lifts Seb out of his cot, who has a beaming face. ‘I couldn’t fault little Seb. He is glorious. Lauren says she hasn’t done this before, so she’s obviously a natural. That girl needs to find a mate and do the world a favour!’

  ‘I’m not livestock, you old perv!’ Lauren shouts at the screen.

  ‘Interesting observation, Doctor,’ says Adam. ‘Clar?’

  ‘I’m with the doctor on this one. Flawless parenting from start to finish. Lauren stuck to a routine, fed Seb the perfect amount, was there when she was needed but was sure not to mollycoddle. She’s going to be a fantastic mother!’

  ‘Well, you might think so, Claaar, but I’d rather stick a metal spoon in a live socket,’ says Lauren, leaning back. ‘One night babysitting a month is enough for me.’

  The audience whoop as Adam tosses Seb up in the air, with Dr Mike running to catch him in the background.

  ‘Ladies and gentlemen,’ Adam screams into the mic, ‘I’m delighted to announce that we have our motherhood challenge winner! It’s only bloody Lauren the Legend, isn’t it?’

  ‘Well done, love! What do you think you’ll win?’ asks Gemma.

  ‘A bottle of Grey Goose would be nice.’ She looks up at the screen. ‘And maybe a singing telegram to David telling him about my excellent mothering skills.’

  ‘Or a giant luminous billboard outside his office,’ adds Amy.

  ‘Don’t forget to mention his wee willy winky,’ winks Kathy.

  ‘Well, it would be unfair to the female population not to.’

  When the prize arrives, it’s hard not to laugh.

  ‘Are they actually fookin’ jokin’?’ Lauren says, deadpan, as she holds up a £1,000 Mothercare voucher.

  ‘I’ll take it!’ Flick cries.

  Flick is all The Wall can talk about.

  On the one side, there’s fury that she’s encouraging outdated gender roles.

  @emilyg23
8 Another small step for man. Another giant leap backward for womankind. Thanks a lot Flick, you utter fuckwit #theshelf

  @alicedecker94 I’m a woman and my place IS in the kitchen. At the table, waiting for the boyfriend to make me a sandwich #theshelf

  On the other, there’s support for it.

  @oldbarrymorgan My mam loved her kitchen! Happy childhood! Still married after 50 years! #theshelf

  The #imwithflick hashtag is beginning to trend on Twitter, and there’s talk of making T-shirts with different slogans.

  THE FUTURE IS FLICK

  I’M WITH FLICK

  BE MORE FLICK

  The back-and-forth on the screen and on the sofa has left Amy feeling desperate for some alone time. She forgoes supper with the housemates and has an early shower followed by a full-on pamper. With no cameras and only the bedroom mics catching louder sounds, the bathroom feels like the only escape here.

  With a cool sheet mask on her face that makes her look like a yeti, she smothers herself in body lotion and locks herself in the loo with a compact and a pair of tweezers. Her chin hairs have resurfaced, and she’d hate for them to be the next hot topic on The Wall.

  In bed, she can hear the rest of the housemates continuing the discussion after supper and responding angrily to each comment. She feels bad she isn’t out there defending the cause, but she’s tired and she’s had enough confrontation for one day.

  As she drifts off, the bedroom door opens and slow footsteps cross the floor into the bathroom. She opens one eye and sees Flick crying quietly on the floor of the bathroom through the door she didn’t mean to leave ajar. When Flick sees Amy in the mirror, she looks startled. She stands up, straightens her skirt and shuts the door without saying a word.

  Fifteen

  ‘Knock, knock! I thought you’d like a cup of tea,’ Flick says at the bedroom door the next morning.

  Amy sits up abruptly and rubs her eyes. When she opens them and blinks her way out of her sleep fog, she’s embarrassed to see she’s the only one still in bed. She runs her fingers through her hair and looks for a sign that Flick might want to talk about how she’s feeling. Amy doesn’t feel qualified to give her any advice. But perhaps she can offer a practical solution, like ‘stop looking at The Wall’, or just a quiet shoulder to cry on and an ear for a rant.