by Sue Limb
‘I just brought your overnight bag,’ said Mum, ‘your pyjamas and stuff. Granny wanted an early night, and I fancied a little evening trip.’
‘Well, come in,’ said Jess. ‘Excuse the weird clothing. We’re just having a bit of a laugh,’ she said. ‘Right?’
Her mum looked puzzled and not as jolly as Jess would have wished. And she didn’t even know yet about Phil and Fred being here.
‘We’re just upstairs,’ said Jess. ‘In Dad’s studio.’ And she started to climb the wooden stairs. ‘It’s Mum!’ she shouted, to give them a few precious seconds to prepare themselves. But she knew, in her heart of hearts, that a few seconds would be nothing like enough.
Chapter 35
On the way upstairs, Jess felt a tide of rage sweep into her heart. Why did her mum have to come and stick her nose in? Why couldn’t she have stayed back in Penzance? She’d always been so discouraging when Jess had wanted to go and see her dad. She’d always postponed it, and made excuses, and put it off.
Now, at the very moment when Jess had finally got together with Dad, and understood what he was all about, and was having the wildest, the most wonderful time, now her mum had to turn up. Hammering on the door like the Vice Squad or something. Ruining everything.
Jess entered the room a split second before her mum. Dad, Phil and Fred were still standing there in their fancy dress, paralysed. They looked ludicrous. The music was still playing, but more softly. Mum stared at them, one after the other, in astonishment. Her eyes were enormous. She was speechless. Phil turned the music right off.
‘Er – Jess’s pyjamas,’ said her mum, holding out the bag rather wanly. ‘Her toothbrush and clean clothes for tomorrow.’
‘Madeleine,’ said Jess’s dad, after a creaking silence. He took off his wizard’s hat. His voice was kind of high and thin, as if he were being strangled. Fred suddenly took off his wig.
‘Fred!’ said Jess’s mum in amazement. ‘I didn’t recognise you.’
‘Hello, Mrs Jordan,’ said Fred. He tried to produce a smile, but it came out thin-lipped and false, like the smile of an iguana. He looked really rather like an iguana in a miniskirt. Jess was tempted, for an insane moment, to burst into hysterical laughter, but she buried it.
‘I didn’t know you were in St Ives,’ said Mum, and her voice sounded tight and weirdly polite in an oldfashioned way. As if they were all in some kind of 1940s film. Maybe a whodunnit.
‘I just hitched down,’ said Fred. ‘I wanted to surprise Jess.’
‘Fred turned up a couple of hours ago,’ said Jess.
‘Oh,’ said her mum, and nodded carefully. Then she turned to Phil, and looked at him in an intense, puzzled way. Jess realised that her mum was trying to work out whether this man in the frog suit was also someone she knew.
‘I’m sorry,’ she said, ‘I’m not sure if –’
‘Madeleine!’ said Phil, ripping off his goggles. It was obvious that neither of Jess’s parents was, at present, able to organise a conversation. ‘You find us in the middle of a carnival moment. A kind of celebration. Of Jess’s visit. I’m Phil King.’ He walked across to Jess’s mum and shook hands with her.
‘Ah, yes!’ said Mum. ‘I’ve heard a lot about you.’ Mum gave him an uncertain smile, and then turned and tried to spread the smile around to include everybody. Dad was still standing uselessly, frozen in his long grey beard, holding his wizard’s hat, just sort of blinking and trembling. It was his house. He was the host. It was his job. He should be putting Mum at her ease. How useless her parents were!
Suddenly Jess felt a wave of tenderness for her mum. She stood there looking lost and embarrassed, and also rather shabby. She stood there in the midst of all the sequins and the satin, the ostrich feathers, the glossy wigs – the sort of clothes she herself had never worn in her life. She looked small and sad and real. And tired.
She had blundered into this impromptu party. It wasn’t her fault. How was she to know they would be dressing up and dancing? She must be so embarrassed. And she had plenty to be furious about. Most of all, the sudden appearance of Fred. It must look as if Jess had been deceiving her mum, and sneaking off without her permission to meet Fred at her dad’s house. As if Dad had been involved in the plot, too. Jess groaned inwardly.
But though she had plenty to be angry about, Mum hadn’t shouted or complained or even scowled – so far. She hadn’t said anything sarcastic, even though her repertoire was extensive. Somehow she was managing to keep smiling, and Jess felt so grateful. She wanted to go over and hug her right now.
But she couldn’t, because the whole room had stopped, like a frozen screen. It was as if everyone were bewitched, and waiting for the magic word that would release them from the evil spell. And in a flash, Jess realised that she was the only one who could utter the magic word.
‘Isn’t it great that Dad’s boyfriend is a frog?’ she said. ‘My favourite species! Plus he’s a lifeboatman. And he’s won a medal. Isn’t it brilliant?’
Jess saw her mother’s eyes flicker, as if a speck of dust had caused her a moment’s discomfort. She prayed that, though Mum must be reeling inwardly, she would say something gracious. She watched her turn, almost in slow motion, towards Phil. She smiled.
‘Yes, it really is lovely to meet you at last!’ she said. ‘I’ve heard so much about you from Tim. Does he still leave the top off the toothpaste?’
You legend!!!!! thought Jess. Brilliant, brilliant, brilliant!
Phil grinned. ‘He leaves the top off everything,’ he said.
‘What a marvellous house you’ve got here,’ said Mum, still addressing Phil. It was her way of accepting that he lived there, too. ‘All this blue and white – it’s beautiful.’
‘Tim completely transformed it,’ said Phil. Thank goodness he didn’t call him Timbo. It was a bit soon for that sort of thing. ‘It was a derelict old warehouse when we found it, wasn’t it, Tim?’
Jess’s dad stirred out of his frozen spell. He blinked and visibly relaxed, like someone moving into sunshine.
‘Yes, it was an old pilchard shed,’ he said. ‘It hadn’t been used for years. You could see the sky through the holes in the roof. That’s how we got it so cheap.’
‘And did you do all the work yourselves?’ asked Jess’s mum, still including Phil. Jess made urgent plans to hug her mother as soon as possible. It was an absolute priority.
‘Phil masterminded it,’ said Dad. ‘He’s a genius with the old DIY.’
‘Tim did all the decoration,’ said Phil.
‘Although I hate doing the ceilings,’ said Dad. ‘I’m scared of heights.’
‘You’re scared of everything!’ said Mum, but with a winning smile. ‘Or is he braver these days?’ she asked Phil.
‘Nope!’ said Phil. ‘Last week, he was even scared of an ice cream.’
‘Well,’ said Dad, ‘ice creams make my teeth jump sometimes. One doesn’t want to scream aloud in a crowded cinema.’
They all laughed. The atmosphere in the room softened and warmed. Evening light stole across the blue floorboards.
‘Well,’ said Dad, ‘I’m feeling a bit of an idiot in my wizard’s frock, so I think I’ll go and get changed.’ He picked up his clothes.
‘I think I’ll get out of this miniskirt,’ said Fred, hanging his wig back up on one of the wig-stands in the wardrobe. ‘It’s draughty. I don’t know how girls do it. Next time we do fancy dress I’m going as a tortoise. Is it OK if I change in the bathroom?’
‘Sure,’ said Phil. ‘Would you like a cup of tea, Madeleine?’
‘I’d like nothing more,’ said Mum. ‘Thanks!’
‘Come down to the kitchen, then,’ said Phil. ‘And you, Madam,’ he winked at Jess, ‘get those ridiculous bosoms off your chest – you look like a female impersonator!’
Fred and Dad went off to their various changing rooms, Phil escorted Mum downstairs, and the studio was suddenly empty and private. Jess took off her Marilyn wig. Her own dark hair was pinned cl
ose to her head. She took the pins out and ran her fingers through her hair, teasing it out into its usual comfortable chaos.
She looked at herself in the mirror. It was a relief, somehow, to see her own funny hair, even though it looked like dark tangles of seaweed. Then Jess peeled off the sequinned Marilyn dress, and the bra with foam inserts. Her own body emerged. After the grotesque exaggeration of the falsies, her figure looked almost slim. Not so bad after all.
A wonderful feeling was stealing up from the soles of her feet. Relief. So much had finally begun to feel sorted. She understood why Mum and Dad had parted. She could stop worrying about Dad being lonely. Mum had been nice to Phil. And looking in this mirror, Jess thought she didn’t look too bad really. Just ordinary, but so what? Fred had made an epic journey all the way down here to be with her – so she must be doing something right. She grinned at the small, dark girl in the reflection, and went downstairs.
Chapter 36
Jess entered the kitchen. Phil, still in his frog suit, was listening to her mum talking about her day. As Jess came in they looked up.
‘Tea? Coffee?’ asked Phil. ‘Cocoa? Herb tea? Coke? Oldfashioned cloudy lemonade? Water?’
‘Oldfashioned cloudy lemonade sounds nice, please,’ said Jess. She sat down next to her mum, but as they were on separate chairs, she still couldn’t hug her. If they’d been on a bench, it’d have been easy.
‘What are you having, Mum?’ asked Jess.
‘Apple and ginger tea,’ said her mum. Jess sniffed it.
‘It smells nice,’ she said. ‘But I’m not really into herbal tea. Flora likes it but I think she’s a bit more mature than me in her tastes. She even likes Beethoven.’
‘Have you heard from Flora recently?’ asked Mum.
‘Yeah,’ said Jess. ‘She’s having a ball at Riverdene. You know what they say: blondes have more fun.’
‘Not true!’ said Phil, placing a lovely tall glass of lemonade in front of Jess. Ice cubes clinked in it and there was a slim slice of lime floating on top. ‘Blondes can be immensely boring, and besides, they show the dirt. We brunettes are far more dramatic.’
Jess sipped her drink. It was fabulous. ‘Wonderful! Thank you!’ she said. ‘It looks like a proper cocktail.’
‘I did work as a barman once,’ said Phil. ‘On a cruise ship. We went all round the Med.’ It seemed Phil had done everything.
‘How interesting!’ said Mum. ‘Where did you go?’
‘Oh, Naples, Genoa, Gibraltar, Tunis, Cairo …’
‘I’ve always wanted to see those places!’ said Mum. Dad and Fred both entered the kitchen. ‘Maybe I should get a job on a cruise ship – but I’m so useless, I would be the last person in the world to mix cocktails.’
‘Yeah!’ said Jess. ‘Mum’s idea of a cocktail is a cup of tea with half a disintegrating biscuit in the bottom.’
‘I am the worst person in the world when it comes to catering,’ admitted Mum. ‘Do you remember that appalling shepherd’s pie I made, Tim?’ Dad cringed. ‘I thought it would be nice to put ketchup in with the potato. But I overdid it. We called it Red Pie at Night – Shepherd’s Delight.’
‘We were ill for days,’ said Dad, with a grin.
There was a brief pause while Phil prepared a coffee for Dad and a glass of Coke for Fred.
‘How was Granny today, Mum?’ asked Jess. She felt a bit guilty at having jumped on to the bus to St Ives, leaving Granny on her own all day – even though Granny had said she wanted to be by herself.
Mum sighed. ‘She was a bit low when I got back. It’s this business about the ashes. I think she wanted to be on her own with the urn. And I think now it’s come to it, she’s finding the whole thing a bit harder than she’d expected. She does want to throw them in the sea, but she doesn’t want it to be too public. She’s afraid she might get a bit emotional, I think. And she’s afraid that, if it’s windy, they might go everywhere. I think she’s also upset because she feels she’s being a wimp about it.’
‘Of course she’s not being a wimp! Poor Granny! It’s the love of her life in that urn!’ said Jess. Suddenly, she caught Fred’s eye for a moment. Thank goodness Fred was still alive and in the same room.
‘I tell you what,’ said Phil. ‘Do you think she would like to come out in my boat? We could have a little service out in the bay. That would be more private.’
Mum’s face just lit up with relief and excitement.
‘You’ve got a boat?’ she said. ‘Oh, that does sound marvellous! Could we really? She’d be thrilled! Thank you so much, Phil!’
Then the grown-ups started to plan the details. They decided they’d do it tomorrow if Granny felt up to it. Jess was sure she would be. It was just terrific that Phil had been able to solve Mum’s problem. It was as if there were a kind of magic working away under the surface of things, as if, after everything going so disastrously wrong for a while, somewhere a tide had changed and now good luck was flooding in.
Jess had only one thing to worry about now. She was amazed and immensely relieved that her mum had behaved so well this evening. When she’d turned up at the door, Jess had feared she would ruin everything. She’d been terrified that her mum would make a terrible scene. Goodness knows she had enough ammunition – so much to be furious about.
Instead Mum had been quiet and sweet and friendly. It had been really kind of her to bring Jess’s stuff. But what if, inside, Mum was still raging? She was a very polite person. Jess could not remember her making a scene in public, ever. She usually kept her outbursts of yelling for when she and Jess were alone. What if she were still seething under all the smiles?
Jess felt she had two choices: either she must never be alone with her mum again (tempting, but hard to organise), or make sure she had some time alone with her as soon as possible, so she could see what her mum was really thinking.
Though this evening seemed somehow enchanted, Jess was terrified that, once they were alone together, her mum would rip off her smile with a horrible tearing Velcro sound. In fact, she might rip off her whole friendly face and underneath there might be a fire-breathing dragon.
‘This time you’ve really blown it!’ she might roar, sparks flying out of her eyes and burning small craters in the pavement. ‘You’re a treacherous, cunning, lying, horrible harlot!’
Mum’s hair would turn into hissing snakes. Steam would come screaming out of her ears and cause a sulphurous fog that would hang over Cornwall for days. Ships would founder on the rocks. Trees would go black and die. Teddy bears’ eyes would fall out.
‘Well,’ said Mum, in the real world, ‘this has been lovely, but I’d better be going.’ She got up. ‘Thanks so much for the tea – and for the offer of your boat tomorrow, Phil. We’ll be over at about eleven, then?’
Phil nodded. ‘I’ll have the Peggy Sue all spruced up and ready to go,’ he said. ‘They have funerals at sea in Venice. I saw one once.’
‘So they do!’ exclaimed Mum. ‘It is kind of romantic, somehow.’
‘Where are you parked?’ asked Dad, always one to dispel a romantic atmosphere with tiresome practical details.
‘The Island car park,’ said Mum.
‘I’ll walk to the car with you, Mum,’ said Jess.
Mum said her goodbyes – even, in quite a friendly way, to Fred. She and Dad exchanged a peck on the cheek. Phil actually gave her a hug, from which she emerged flushed and confused but sort of pleased-looking.
The men stood at the door and waved as Jess and her mum set off down the narrow lane. Jess felt a throb of terror and braced herself for the steam, the snakes, the burning sparks of rage. But her mum said nothing. All she did was take Jess’s arm, and they set off towards the Island car park.
‘Mum,’ said Jess, ‘you’re not cross, are you?’
‘Cross?’ said Mum, in rather a startled way. ‘No. Why should I be cross? I was feeling a bit guilty, actually.’
‘Guilty?’ repeated Jess, amazed. ‘Why should you feel guilty?’
> ‘Because I didn’t manage to tell you about Dad,’ said Mum, with a sigh. ‘I should have said something long ago.’
‘Yeah, why didn’t you?’ asked Jess. ‘Not that I’m cross or upset or anything. It just would have been so much easier for us – and Dad, too – if I’d known.’
‘We should have managed it better,’ said Mum. ‘Dad and I kept discussing it. I wasn’t sure when you’d be old enough. I kept meaning to tell you, but, somehow, the right moment never came. I did try, just a few days ago, when we went to see Lawrence of Arabia’s cottage, and I tried again in that park in Penzance, but I’m afraid I lost my nerve.’
‘Well, it’s OK now,’ said Jess. ‘There’s no need to worry about that any more.’
‘I thought you might freak out,’ said Mum.
‘Well, I did, for a while, just at first,’ said Jess. ‘But I’m thrilled about it now. It is so much better than if he had got a girlfriend and a horrible baby and stuff. That would be dire. Instead, he’s gay! That’s so cool! Just wait till I tell all my friends! They’ll be so envious!’
‘Good. That’s all right, then,’ said Mum. She heaved a great sigh, as if a huge weight had been lifted from her shoulders.
‘Are you sure you’re not cross about … about Fred?’ asked Jess, her heart pounding. ‘I really didn’t know he was going to be here. It was a total surprise.’
‘It seems rather a flamboyant gesture on his part,’ said Mum. Jess was glad they were walking side by side, and she didn’t have to look her mum in the eye at this crucial moment.
‘Yes, well, Fred is a bit flamboyant,’ said Jess.
‘He’s trying to impress you?’ said Mum.
‘It’s just his way,’ said Jess. Her heart was working up to a terrifying crescendo of thumping. She was sure it could be heard, like distant drumming, all over Cornwall. ‘Fred’s, well, in some faintly ludicrous sort of way, Fred’s actually – what might be known as “my boyfriend”, I suppose.’
‘I thought as much,’ said Mum. ‘I wasn’t born yesterday.’
