The WWW Club

by Anita Notaro

  Apparently, yellow pooh said bad things about your liver, and sticky, mucousy ones weren’t great either. They were meant to be nice and solid and chocolatey. Ellie vowed to check hers next time but she had them so rarely compared with most people that she knew she’d forget. A yellow sticky on the bathroom door reminded her to “test the turd” but it didn’t last long so she pinned the pooh article to the wall behind the loo and vowed to eat more fiber, having learned that a really healthy person empties their bowels three times a day. Once a week was her norm.

  Next day in the Bryant household was definitely easier. Ellie had a key, for one thing, so she didn’t have to make an entrance. The girls were up and dressed and Jack was apparently in the shower. Ellie put on the kettle and helped them with cereal and brown toast and was making lunches when he arrived in the kitchen, wearing only an old pair of sweat pants and toweling his hair.

  “Oh, sorry, I … didn’t hear you arrive, I was just going to get dressed, I—”

  “Daddy, you’re very fat today,” Jess told him and it lessened the awkwardness.

  “Thank you, darling, I needed to hear that. Please be every bit as kind to Nora.” He smiled at them, noticing she was trying to keep a straight face. Jessie ran over to poke him in the ribs.

  “Your tummy is all wobbly.” Ellie kept her back to him and buttered bread furiously.

  “What happened to that gym you used to visit?” Sam asked.

  “They expelled me.”

  “What’s spelled?”

  “They threw me out.”

  “Why?”

  “Cause I was too fat.”

  “I love you really, Dad, you’re cuddly.” Jess gave him a hug. “So are you, Nora.”

  “Thanks, I think.” Ellie patted the little girl’s head. “Although I’d rather be called something like slim or … trim … or curvy even.”

  “You are curvy, you’ve got a big curve around your waist,” Sam told her and Ellie wasn’t sure it was meant kindly.

  “I’m off to put a shirt on before anyone starts to admire my bulging muscles,” Jack said as he made a hasty retreat.

  When Ellie came back from school he was in the kitchen polishing off a bowl of muesli.

  “I hope the girls won’t frighten you off. Kids can be cruel, sometimes.” He was looking at her warily. But Ellie was completely laid back.

  “There’s virtually nothing I haven’t heard already. One boy in the crèche told me recently he liked my bottom because it shook when I laughed, like it was laughing too.” Ellie made herself a cup of coffee. “Speaking of bottoms, I read a fascinating article last night on …” Ellie suddenly remembered who she was talking to. “Actually, I won’t go there, it’s not a breakfast-time chat.”

  “Please do.”

  “No really I—”

  “Go on, you can’t start something like that then back off.”

  “No honestly, it was nothing really, just, eh, pointing out that your, eh, number two says a lot about your health.”

  “Your number two?” He was trying not to laugh.

  “It’s this job,” Ellie apologized. “I constantly talk like a child. I told my father to stop watching the moo cows and let the nee naw pass last week when we were out in the car together.”

  “Well, why don’t you have that coffee in a plastic beaker and open a packet of choccy bikkies and explain what my … number two should look like?”

  “Well, it should be a nice rich brown, solid and not too sticky.”

  “Sounds like a chocolate mini roll.”

  “Exactly.”

  “And what are we comparing it to then?”

  “Oh, I haven’t got that far yet, but apparently some are quite yellow and runny and have a sticky, mucus-like substance.” Ellie was delighted to have someone to share her knowledge with. It was just like talking to a woman sometimes, when he let his guard down. She liked him.

  “And how exactly do you check this out? Do you box it and take it to the pooh emporium?”

  “No … actually, I’m not sure, but some places do request a sample if you go for a colonic, according to my friend Pam, who knows these things.”

  “You’ve been for one?”

  “No, but the girls in the … gang are … discussing it.”

  “And do you know what’s involved?”

  “Well, apparently they put a tube up your …”

  “Botty B?” It was Jess’s favorite phrase at the moment.

  “Ha ha. I was going to say back passage, actually. Then you feel a whoosh and, eh, it all comes out.”

  “It just pours out? Ugh.” He sounded horrified.

  “Through the tube, idiot. And the tube is partly clear … and they examine the … floaty bits.”

  “Why?”

  “To see what’s stuck to the inside of your colon, I imagine. Lumps mean you’re not chewing your food properly. You have to chew until it’s liquid, apparently. Except for sweetcorn, which doesn’t break down.” Ellie was feeling quite well-read.

  “Sounds gross. Why would anyone want to have liquid filet steak running round their mouth at dinner?” he wondered.

  “Or liquid chips, all greasy,” Ellie marveled.

  The arrival of Mrs. O’Sullivan put an end to their chat. Neither felt she’d appreciate the finer points of digesting and excreting food.

  Ellie had a very productive morning, she tackled the girls’ rooms with gusto. The older woman tidied downstairs and scrubbed the bathrooms and looked quite flushed by the time she left a few hours later.

  Ellie made herself a salad sandwich on brown bread, then made one for Jack as well. He hadn’t appeared all morning so she assumed he must be ravenous. She knocked on the door of his study with a tray just before she went to collect Jessie.

  “Yes?” He sounded distracted and she poked her head around the door.

  “I thought you might like a sandwich, it’s lunchtime and I was making one for—”

  “Thank you.” He hopped up immediately and came to meet her. “But really you shouldn’t have, I don’t expect you to.”

  “No trouble.” She handed over the tray and looked around. It might as well have been midnight, the heavy curtains were closed and he was working by the light of a lamp, his desk covered with papers. The room smelt vaguely musty. It was a large room, with a great big period fireplace and high ceilings and as far as she could remember it faced the garden. She wondered how he could work like this.

  He put the tray down on a side table and picked up the sandwich. “What’s this?”

  “Salad.”

  “This is salad?” He pulled out a bean sprout and looked at it doubtfully.

  “Well, I added bits and pieces, peppers, radishes, celery.”

  “Any ham?”

  “No, I was being extra healthy.”

  “I see.” He closed the lid on the offering and took a gulp of coffee. “Well, thank you, Nora, I appreciate it, but, really, I’d actually rather not be disturbed when I’m in here working.”

  “Fine.” That put her firmly in her place. “I was thinking of taking the girls swimming this afternoon, if that’s OK?”

  “That’d be great. They love it. Thank you very much.”

  She nodded, harmony restored. “Would you like me to pull the curtains and let some—”

  “No.” There was no negotiating that one. Damn, she hadn’t meant to sound like a nosy mother.

  “Sorry.” She headed for the door.

  “Oh, and Nora …”

  “Yes?”

  “Don’t forget to turn those bean sprouts into dirty water in your mouth.” He was chewing a bite of bread ferociously and contorting his face and she laughed in spite of herself.

  Fifteen

  Maggie had a date on Thursday night with Doug the accountant, so she existed on soup and fruit on Tuesday and Wednesday and drank lashings of water. He was now known as Da—Doug, Accountant—it was always the same with the girls. They loved their codes. She’d seen him twice and sh
e liked him. He was quite good-looking and had a lovely smile. And it felt nice to have a boyfriend.

  She arrived home from work early, determined to go the whole hog tonight. She’d had a leg and bikini wax at lunchtime and it made her feel all sexy, or at least it would once the swelling had died down, and she’d bought herself a new lacy black thong. A bath overflowing with smellies was on the cards first, though. She needed it badly, she was absolutely exhausted—lack of energy from too little food, she suspected. She soaked for ages and then, afraid her hair would frizz, she got out and settled for masses of body butter and cucumber slices over her eyes while she lay with her feet up for ten minutes. The only problem was she promptly fell asleep and woke with fifteen minutes to go and a raging headache.

  “Fuck, fuck, fuck, why do these things always happen to me?” she asked herself aloud. She couldn’t find her new thong and had to make do with the cheaper black one she only ever wore to the gym, and her eye make-up was a bit shiny because of all the cucumber juice, but she struggled on regardless and was fixing her shoes when he rang the bell.

  “Coming,” she shouted and dashed out. She wasn’t quite ready for him to see the tiny house she shared with her sister, and anyway, as long as Karen was around, she wasn’t risking bringing anyone back.

  “Hi.”

  “Hello there. All set?” He was standing by the door of his nice shiny black car. It wasn’t a frivolous car, more a solid, family model, and she liked that. She also liked the way he held open the door and settled her in.

  “How’s your week been?”

  “Fine, I’ve been out with clients doing their books all week. Nice to get away from the office. How about you?”

  “Same boring old office for me, I’m afraid.” But she smiled as she said it. Really she liked her job, her boss was the youngest partner in the firm and he was decent to work for. Doug was taking her to a new vegetarian restaurant and she hoped it wouldn’t be all brown rice and pulses because she was absolutely starving, so hungry she’d eat a horse and the jockey riding it.

  She wondered later, as she gazed at the menu and wanted sweet-and-sour chicken balls instead of tofu burgers, if she hadn’t been too compliant. That was one of her problems. She so badly wanted everyone to like her that she’d agree to almost anything, especially when it came to impressing new boyfriends. Vegetarian restaurants weren’t really her thing, but one of Doug’s colleagues had urged him to go.

  “They have a fab Mexican bean and vegetable soup.” He was looking all shiny and happy and she felt her stomach heave. It was going to be a good night, although she drew the line at another spoonful of soup.

  “Nope, I’m going for the vegetable tacos with Stilton,” she announced and he looked put out but quickly hid it.

  “Is that OK with you?”

  “Yes, I’d just thought we might share that as a main course but never mind, you have whatever takes your fancy.”

  “Sure?”

  “Certain.”

  “I’m just so hungry and I had soup for lunch.” She smiled at him. “I’d murder some wine, though. What’ll we have?”

  “Not for me, thanks, I’m training early in the morning.” Maggie knew he took his rowing very seriously. “But you go ahead. Shall I order you a glass?” She wanted at least half a bottle but she opted for a glass of the house red and hoped it was a decent one. They had a great laugh and he complimented her on how well she looked and she smiled brightly at him, even though the cheap satin of her thong was beginning to rub and it was riding up her bum and cutting into her a bit. Still, she felt very girly in a thong, always did.

  The food was delicious, although Maggie was slightly disappointed when he turned down dessert too, so she had another glass of wine with her coffee and decided it was good for her waistline.

  He dropped her home at eleven and kissed her tenderly—their first real kiss, the others had only been pecks. She liked kissing him, so she wound her arms round his neck and he pulled her closer. Eventually he broke off and smiled at her.

  “You’re lovely.”

  “So are you.

  “Are you free at all this weekend?” She liked the slightly formal way he asked.

  “Sure, why?”

  “I wondered if you’d like to come with me to my parents’ house on Sunday afternoon? They’re having a barbecue—just a small crowd—and my two brothers will be there with their wives.” She knew Doug was the baby of the family and instantly wondered if they’d like her.

  “Yes, I’d love to come. Where do they live?”

  “Clontarf. I could collect you about three.”

  “Will I bring anything?”

  “I dunno, maybe a cake or something.”

  “A cake, eh, sure, I could probably …” she was about to say “buy a nice chocolate roulade or something” when he mentioned that “mother loves home baking.”

  This was slightly frightening but thankfully she knew Toni was a great cook and Pam was an expert at jazzing up the Tesco “Finest” range and passing it off as her own.

  They kissed again, this time even more passionately, and her lips were tingling when she waved him off. Shame about that bloody thong, it was strangling her.

  Toni was working all hours and her nerves were frazzled. It was physically demanding and her mouth hurt from smiling all the time, especially when visitors were around. Hers was a very exclusive nursing home and all the “children” were very anxious to ensure that their mums and dads had every convenience imaginable, although they rarely stayed long enough to find out.

  “Mummy was asking if you’re going to serve carrots again for lunch tomorrow, it’s just that they give her heartburn. I was just wondering if she could have a little asparagus instead, perhaps?”

  Toni could just see the chef’s face. “I’ll certainly ask, although it is out of season at the moment.” She smiled brightly at the velvet hairband sitting on top of a pale pink twinset and pearls. All these women looked the same.

  “But I saw some in Superquinn yesterday and she loves it with a little hollandaise sauce.”

  “We do try only to eat foods in season and which are locally grown,” and that asparagus you saw was local only in Zimbabwe, she didn’t add. “And organic, of course, where possible.” It was the standard answer and one they found very difficult to argue with.

  “Yes of course. I understand.”

  “Perhaps you could cook it for your mum as a special treat next time you take her home for Sunday lunch?” Toni was all smiles, knowing that this particular family never did more than pop in once every three weeks for five minutes to throw their weight around.

  “Oh, I’d love that, darling.” The mother was beaming. “Besides I don’t want to bother the chef, he’s Chinese and he carries a cleaver.” She winked at Toni.

  “Well, let’s se how we go, shall we?” End of conversation.

  Toni was becoming an expert at it but by Friday she was about to kill someone, although she did her best with the Rolex-watch type who stopped her just as she was about to finish her shift.

  “Excuse me, miss?”

  “Yes, can I help you?” She pretended she’d never seen him before but she knew him well, had spotted him driving a brand-new Jag at high speed through the car park on one of his occasional visits last week. He’d almost knocked down poor Miss Thompson, who was bent over smelling the last of the sweet peas. She knew he fancied her, he’d been finding more and more excuses to corner her over the last few weeks.

  “I’m afraid my father is anxious about his new Pringle sweater. He sent it to the laundry last week and it hasn’t come back.”

  “Well, I’ll certainly check and see where it’s got to.”

  “I’m afraid he’s quite upset. It’s the second time this has happened recently. The last one was cashmere and they’re very expensive.” He grinned at her. “And he keeps giving me a tenner to go out and buy him another one. If you could rescue this one it might be cheaper to shower you with diamonds.” He wink
ed. “And I’ll be forever in your debt.”

  Toni bit her lip. He could be very charming when he wanted to be. She’d seen him with one of the juniors the other day. It was the wealth-and-power thing, she decided now. He was an Irish version of Donald Trump, she just knew it. “Actually I’m just about to go off duty but I’ll have one of the assistants go through the laundry room first thing in the—”

  “Couldn’t you just do a quick check now? He’s worked himself up into quite a state and I’m not happy leaving him like that.” He smiled at her, knowing he’d get his own way in the end.

  Toni could smell the alcohol, although it was barely six thirty in the evening. She was too tired to argue. “Fine. If you’ll wait in your father’s room I’ll—”

  “Can’t I come with you? I’ve got an appointment in half an hour.”

  In the pub, I’ll bet, Toni thought. “I’m afraid our insurance doesn’t cover visitors in the cleaning areas.” Another standard answer. “I’ll be as quick as I can.” She smiled coldly, leaving him with no choice.

  She made herself a cup of strong coffee just to annoy him, even though her shift was over and it was probably inconveniencing her more than him. She checked the news headlines and sauntered toward the laundry room. It was hot and stuffy and she was not a bit happy. The blasted Pringle or whatever was nowhere to be found.

  “I’m afraid I can’t easily locate it, I’m sorry.” Toni popped her head round the corner of the room. “I will leave a note for Anna, who knows all about these things, and she’ll drop in to see you in the morning.” She smiled sweetly at the old man and ignored the younger one pacing the small corridor.

  “That’s OK, my dear. I’m not really sure whether I gave it in for cleaning anyway.”

  “Have you checked your closet?”

  “My son has.”

  “It’s just we’ve no record of it, as far as I can see, which is unusual.” Toni felt a migraine coming on. “What color did you say it was again, Mr. Thornton?” She was rummaging in his closet.