The WWW Club

by Anita Notaro

“I want to watch this.” Jess kicked her legs against the sofa.

  “Not now, Jess. You’ll be late.”

  “Don’t care, you can’t make me.” Not a good start.

  “Oh yes I can.” She reached over and turned off the TV. “Now, upstairs both of you and get washed and dressed.”

  “You’re not our mother.” Sam’s eyes were angry.

  Not today, Sam, please, Ellie’s eyes pleaded. “No and I’m not trying to be, but I am responsible for getting you two to school, so—”

  “What’s going on? Why all the shouting?” Jack appeared in his dressing gown.

  Great, Ellie thought. Just what I need. “Nothing,” she replied brightly. “We were just getting organized.” She scooped Jess up and began to tickle her and Sam followed reluctantly.

  She stayed upstairs long enough to give him time to have a coffee and when she eventually had to go back down he was in the sitting room, with a bowl of Rice Krispies, watching some rubbish on TV. With his hair tossed he looked just like Jess. Same lost look.

  She made ham and cheese sandwiches using last night’s brown bread, added fruit and yogurt and headed out the door with the girls in record time, after they’d trooped back in to kiss him good-bye.

  “How come you can watch sport and we’re not allowed the toons?” Jess demanded.

  “And you get to have Krispies and put sugar on and we have to have Shreddies,” Sam added.

  “Only on school days. Saturdays and Sundays you can have what you like. It’s what your dad and I agreed.” Ellie made a “we’re in this together” face at him. “OK, time to go, here is your lunch, Sam. And there just might be a treat after school if you’re good.” She didn’t want Jack to think she was running a boot camp.

  By the time she got back, having been to the shops, he was ensconced in his study and Mrs. O’Sullivan was hard at work. Ellie was sorting the washing when she noticed a lot of pale-pink clothes. Funny, she was sure that it was the white wash she’d left drying last night. Her heartbeat quickened when she pulled out one of Jessie’s red pajama bottoms. “Oh no.” Her shoulders sagged.

  “What’s wrong?” Mrs. O’Sullivan appeared behind her and made her jump.

  “I put this in with the whites by mistake.” She held up the offending article. “What am I going to do?”

  “Just put everything back as normal. No one will notice.” Mrs. O’Sullivan had done this before, it seemed.

  “I can’t. Look, this is meant to be a white shirt. It’s practically rose pink.”

  “He never wears shirts, normally.”

  “Well, he wears boxers. And these are not cheap.” Ellie examined a pair of baby-pink Calvin Kleins. “And they’re ruined.”

  “Tell you what, I’ll run down to the shop. They sell something in a box to deal with colors running. I’ve seen it.” The cleaner was putting on her coat, glad of a chance to escape and have a fag.

  “No, really, I’ll get—”

  “Back in a jif. Don’t fret yourself now, that’s a good girl.” She was gone.

  Ellie was still wondering what to do when Jack appeared. She flung the clothes back into the wash basket.

  “Coffee?” he asked casually.

  “No thanks.” She was worried. Whether he wore them or not, those shirts were expensive. “Eh, I’ve just finished one.”

  “Nora, I’m sorry about yesterday. I shouldn’t have lost my temper like that.”

  No you shouldn’t, was what she would have said if she hadn’t just ruined all the clothes he had told her not to touch in the first place.

  “Forget it, I shouldn’t have … done … that.” It sounded like she’d mugged an old lady.

  “I am a bit strange, I know that. People looking after me has always made me uneasy and, in the last few years,” he scratched his head, “I guess I’ve grown used to my own space and …”

  “You don’t have to explain. It’s my fault, I’m useless sometimes and I do stupid things and …” Her weepy PMT voice took over again.

  “Stop it.” He’d no idea where all this was coming from, couldn’t she see he was apologizing? He came closer. “You are not useless, you’re great with the girls and … I hate to admit it but I slept really well in a clean bed with the window open.” He grinned sheepishly. “And thank you for the fish pie, it was delicious. That sauce, whatever it was, was very tasty.”

  “There was a packet in there somewhere,” she felt bound to admit.

  “Well, I certainly couldn’t tell. And the brown bread cooling was very impressive too.”

  “Odlums instant mix. I’m addicted to that woman on IrelandAM on TV3 in the mornings who bakes bread and scones and flapjacks and corn fritters in seconds.” She was waffling.

  “Well, we all look forward to being your guinea pigs, only, please, don’t feel you have to look after me.” He shrugged his shoulders. “It makes me uncomfortable.”

  “And I always want to play Mammy, which doesn’t help.”

  “Well, we’re both learning. It’ll take time, I guess.”

  “Here we are, one dose of this and he’ll never notice a—” Mrs. O’Sullivan burst in, saw Jack and kept going. “I’ll just sort out the ironing.” She disappeared into the utility room, leaving Ellie no option but to confess.

  “I’m afraid I had a bit of an accident with the white wash.” She screwed up her face as if in pain, which she was. “Left this in by mistake.” She held up the culprit. “But we’re working on it.”

  “Thank God that’s all it is. Mrs. O made it sound like you were about to force feed me a laxative or something.” He reached into the laundry basket and pulled out a rose-pink shirt and held it up to his face. “What do you think?”

  “Not your color, I suspect.”

  “Don’t worry, I hardly ever wear shirts and I need to restock anyway.”

  “You have a few pairs of pink boxers too, I’m afraid.” She thought she may as well get it over with.

  He’d picked up his coffee and taken a sip, added more milk and headed for the door. “Nobody’s seen my boxers for a long time, so I wouldn’t worry if I were you.”

  “Well, you never know when you might …” She was about to say “get lucky” but decided against it. “Have an accident,” she offered lamely instead.

  “On the potty?” He was teasing her again.

  “I’ll pick up some new ones, at my expense, of course … if that’s OK …” She was waffling again.

  “Nora,” he turned to look at her, “the last thing I need is for you to go shopping for my underwear. Remember, I’m paranoid.” They both smiled grimly and he disappeared.

  “Want me to iron your shirts for you, or should I just … mind my own business?” Her voice trailed off.

  He reappeared and seemed about to say no but changed his mind. “Actually, that would be great, thanks. You can just leave them here and I’ll put them away later. And Nora …” He gave her a Princess Diana coy look, or else he thought he was wearing glasses on the tip of his nose. “Thanks.”

  “Pleasure.” She beamed and it was all over.

  Twenty

  Maggie was feeling good about herself. She’d had her hair cut short on the spur of the moment and everybody in the office said it made her face look thinner. Everybody except Rosemary Quinlan, the office manager, who had her own peculiar way of paying compliments.

  “Ooh, it looks lovely.” Her breathy voice made Marilyn Monroe appear butch. “It sort of hides your strong jaw and makes your chin look more pointy.”

  Maggie’s friend Eilis was passing and overheard the nasty remark. “Well, nothing could disguise your droopy tits, babe, so I wouldn’t bother trying. Just let your hair grow very long.” She smiled sweetly at the older woman. Maggie wanted to duck to avoid the verbal mud-slinging she knew would follow. “You’re a ride, Mags, don’t mind the cow,” Eilis added, grinning at her friend and ignoring the gasp from Rosemary. “How dare you, you …?”

  “Trollop? That’s what you called me in
the canteen the other day, isn’t it? Well, at least I’m getting it. I’d say you’d ride anything with a pulse. Shame George Devlin said the other night he’d rather fuck a corpse than wake up to your bad breath.”

  Rosemary’s mouth opened, but nothing came out. Maggie swallowed hard. She knew exactly what Eilis was capable of coming out with—and frequently did—but this had taken things to a new and potentially disastrous level. The aggro that had previously existed between the office manager and Eilis, who was a very junior secretary, had been a love affair compared to this. She dragged Eilis into the ladies.

  “What are you doing, antagonizing her like that?” Maggie whispered in case someone was lurking. “She could make your life hell, she has before.”

  “Not anymore. Mr. Pearson has just asked me to be his secretary when Molly retires at the end of the month.” She grinned broadly. “Which means I’ll have absolutely nothing more to do with the head-wrecker. Imagine.” She did a little dance. “I’ll be a proper legal secretary, just like you, instead of a glorified typist with that cow for a boss.”

  “That is brilliant.” Maggie hugged her friend. “But Jesus, Eilis, you went a bit over the top this time.” She couldn’t help smiling. “You usually make some effort to control that razor tongue of yours.” They were sniggering again and Maggie glanced toward the cubicles. “But that bit about the corpse …” She wrinkled her nose. “Yuk. She could have you up before a … tribunal or something.”

  “I’ll deny it.” Eilis shrugged, she was too happy to let that fat bitch bother her today.

  Maggie bit her bottom lip at the memory of the other woman’s face. It was difficult to have any real sympathy for Rosemary Quinlan. As bosses went, Maggie would have preferred to work for Judge Judy. Thank God she’d never had any real dealings with her—Rosemary only got to bully the juniors in the general office.

  “Anyway, she’d be afraid to repeat it.” Eilis sniffed. “So, what do you think? Isn’t it great news? It’ll mean a good salary increase too.”

  Maggie was thrilled. She knew that Eilis, who was from County Sligo, constantly struggled to pay for a flat and send money home. “I’m so happy for you. Listen.” She kept thinking they were being overheard: toilets were notorious places for picking up things you weren’t meant to hear. She glanced under the loo doors to make doubly sure the place was empty. “Did George really say that about her?”

  “What planet are you on? As George very eloquently told everyone in the pub the other night, he’d screw anything with a hole and a heartbeat. I only said it because we all know she’s got the hots for him.”

  “You can talk about being eloquent!” Maggie gave her friend a dig in the ribs. But Eilis had a grin the size of a banana.

  “God, I’ve waited a while to leave that blabbermouth speechless. Listen, tell me quickly, how did Sunday go with Dougie boy? I’ve hardly seen you since.”

  “Great, I’m seeing him tonight for a drink. His family were nice to me, very respectable, not like my gang, half of whom were sitting on my doorstep waiting for a bed when I arrived home at ten.”

  “And were you hoping that someone other than your mother would be sharing your bed that night?” Eilis knew they hadn’t done it yet and her eyes were teasing. Maggie was the only friend she had who still “saved herself” a bit. Everyone else was gagging for it.

  “Stop it, would ye?” She slapped her friend on the wrist but from the way she turned pink Eilis knew it was true. “My mother drove all the way from Galway to visit a neighbor in hospital and expected a bed for the night without even asking. Said she forgot her mobile so couldn’t ring me on the way. My two brothers were with her so I ended up making them all a big fry-up and of course I had a couple of sausages myself.” She patted her tummy. “Not good. Anyway, poor Doug couldn’t believe their appetite—or their manners either, I’d say—but he’s too polite. They had bread on the table, butter still in its wrapper, mugs out and the tomato ketchup bottle turned upside down ready for action before I’d got the pan hot. He made an effort for about fifteen minutes then legged it.”

  “Still, at least you got an early night, ready for tonight.” Eilis leered.

  “No, you know me. Too soft. Of course Queen Karen arrived home and headed straight for bed, claiming a migraine and leaving me to do all the dishes. Then Mum got stuck into a bottle of gin she’d brought me ‘as a present.’ I ended up chatting with her till two.”

  One of their colleagues came in at that point so it was back to work fast. News of Eilis’s encounter with the office manager was hot gossip for the rest of the day in Arthur Bowles and Co.

  That evening Maggie was ready bang on time. Doug seemed a bit taken aback at her new hairstyle. “It’s lovely, darling.” He twirled her around. She felt a bit young to be called darling but liked the way he said it. “Though I loved your long hair too.”

  “I know, but I wanted a change. Cost a fortune so you’d better admire it all evening.”

  “How much?” he asked casually as he started the car.

  “Hundred and fifty.”

  “What? That’s outrageous. Mick the barber charges me eleven euros and does whatever I want.”

  “Since when did you start having color and highlights and a ‘follicle-rejuvenating and tone-enhancing masque’?” she teased him.

  “Oh, at least once a month,” he joked back and told her again how much he liked it but he referred to the price several times during the evening. It made Maggie slightly uneasy, after all it wasn’t as if she’d spent his money.

  They went to the Wishing Well in Blackrock and he had two bottles of beer and a Ballygowan ’cause he was driving. Maggie had three quarters of a bottle of wine and felt giddy as they prepared to leave.

  “Oh, I’ve left my wallet in the car.” He patted his trouser pockets. “I’ll just run out and get it.” He picked up the bill and stood up.

  “Don’t bother, I’ve got money here.”

  “Sure?”

  “Positive.” She grabbed the bill playfully and leaned up to kiss him impulsively. “You can get the next treat.”

  “Oh dear, you’ll probably choose the most expensive place in town,” he teased her as they left.

  “Definitely and I’m having a starter and a dessert.”

  “Well, you’d better start saving, so. Instead of wasting all your money on that head of yours.” He yanked her hair and kissed her. Maggie dug him in the ribs, but it rankled.

  “Oh no, sis is home.” She was slightly disappointed as they pulled up at her house.

  “Are the family still with you?”

  “I hope not, they’ve eaten me out of house and home already. Breakfast yesterday was juice, fresh fruit, cereal, at least a dozen scrambled eggs and a sliced pan of toast with a half-pound of butter and a jar of marmalade.” She laughed. “Luckily, they ordered in Chinese last night or I was going to have to shop on the way home.”

  “I hope you didn’t pay for it?”

  “No, Mum did.” She gave him a funny look. “But sure, what does it matter? They’re my family.” She smiled questioningly.

  “You’re too generous. If it had been mine I’d have booked them a B&B for the night.” He fingered her hair and pulled her close and put an end to the conversation. They had a very satisfying snog, as good as it gets in a car on a busy street in Dublin, anyway. But his remarks about money took a bit of the hazy glow away for Maggie.

  “I was thinking …” He smiled shyly as she picked up her bag and prepared to leave twenty minutes later. “Would you … like to stay over, at my place, that is, on Friday night? I could cook you dinner and you’d be able to relax after all the trauma of your family and everything.” He looked embarrassed and her earlier worries disappeared. She loved him for it. “That would be really nice. I’ll bring my flannel PJs,” she teased and he blushed.

  “I look forward to seeing them, I think.” He grinned and she reached over and kissed him again. She knew it was all going to be OK.

 
“I’ll bring the wine,” she told him as she closed the door.

  “Great. I’ll pick you up early, about seven thirty.”

  “Why don’t I drive over, if you’re cooking?”

  “OK, yeah. I’ll ring you during the week and give you directions.”

  “Great. I’m looking forward to it.”

  “Me too. Oh, and I picked up that lock you want for the bathroom window. I could put it on on Sunday if you like.”

  “You are so thoughtful, I only mentioned it in passing.” He was always doing little things like that and she loved being looked after.

  “Nite.”

  “Nite nite.” She was smiling as she let herself in and wondered what the girls would think when she told them on Saturday.

  * * *

  Olga Blake had called Ellie twice, which was unusual. On the second occasion she asked her to babysit while she went to the doctor.

  “Is everything OK?” Ellie didn’t want to pry, but her friend looked as if she’d been crying when Ellie called round after work.

  “Yes. I am tired all the time, so I go to the doctor.” She had her coat on, as if she’d been waiting.

  “OK, well, take your time. I brought us some Marks and Spencer takeaway for later. Has Rudi been fed?”

  Olga looked as if she wasn’t sure. “He’ll be fine. I must go, the surgery ends soon.”

  Ellie gave Rudi a good wash and aired his pajamas, then she played with him for ages. He was such a gorgeous little boy, growing and changing every day. Even though he was still a baby really, he was interested in everything around him. Despite what Olga had said, Ellie made him a bottle and he gulped it down. An hour and a half later she heard Olga’s key in the lock.

  “How did it go?” Ellie had tidied up and laid the table. She’d even found some old candles and thought the nice setting, even in these grim surroundings, might cheer up her friend.

  “Fine. He thinks I am depressed. He gave me some tablets.”

  “Aren’t you on some form of antidepressants already?”

  “Yes, but they are for the night, to help me sleep.”

  “Oh, sleeping tablets.” Ellie was confused.