Lipstick and Lies

by Viggiano, Debbie

  ‘Darling, there you are!’ my husband appeared by my side. He wrapped an arm around my waist and pulled me to him. ‘Thank you for looking after my wife Matthew, but I would like her back now.’

  ‘That’s all right matey. I have one of my own. Speaking of which, I’d better go and rescue her.’ Matt nodded in Morag’s direction. We followed his gaze. Stevie was back in situ and in earnest conversation. Although he seemed to be addressing Morag’s chest, rather than her face.

  ‘Why on earth did you invite the man?’ I asked Matt in amazement.

  ‘I didn’t,’ Matt said, genuinely surprised. ‘I thought you did.’

  ‘Me? Why on earth would I do that? God, talk about bloody gate-crashing.’

  ‘And Charlotte’s looking mutinous,’ said Matt. ‘I’d better get over there, before she starts chucking the champers about.’

  Jamie hugged me tight. ‘Thank goodness you’re not like Charlotte, throwing your weight and bad temper about.’

  ‘Well I haven’t had cause to,’ I regarded my husband coolly, ‘up until now.’

  ‘What do you mean – up until now?’ Jamie looked puzzled.

  ‘Is it true you’ve recruited a certain ex-girlfriend as a business colleague?’ I demanded.

  Jamie frowned. ‘You mean Selina?’

  ‘No,’ I said sarcastically, ‘I mean Mandy Micklewaite from Year Six at primary school. Of course I mean Selina!’ My lip seemed to have curled back, teeth bared like a savage dog.

  ‘Yes,’ Jamie said patiently. ‘I told you about it the other night.’

  ‘What other night?’

  ‘Gosh, I don’t know Cassie – not specifically anyway. Three nights ago? Four nights? Don’t you remember?’

  ‘No, I do not remember.’

  ‘Well Cassie I can’t help it if you fall asleep while I’m talking to you.’

  ‘And I can’t help being exhausted all the time,’ I roared. ‘Why the hell didn’t you tell me when I was awake and had my wits about me?’

  ‘Cassie, in our household there is rarely a quiet moment. You think I’m going to talk about important work decisions over the cornflakes? Shout across the cereal bowls as the kids row about which judge should be booted off X-Factor, or Eddie screams blue murder because Petra won’t let him play with her iPod? Or perhaps you’d prefer it if I left you a note eh? Dear Cassandra: please be advised that as from next month Fareham & Mackerel will be employing a female I once dated for all of five minutes, yours sincerely James Mackerel, PS any chance of lamb chops for dinner tonight?’

  ‘But didn’t you realise I’d fallen asleep when you didn’t get a response?’ I persisted.

  ‘But you did respond!’

  ‘How?’

  ‘You pulled the duvet over your head and mumbled, “Whatever”, which pretty much brought the topic of conversation to a close.’

  Had I? Oh God, that sounded so typical of me.

  ‘But why Selina?’ I argued. ‘There are surely umpteen suitable candidates out there.’

  ‘I have already explained this, but clearly my words made no impression on you whatsoever.’

  ‘Because I was asleep!’ I shrieked.

  ‘Okay, I’ll go over the whole thing again with you now. Firstly, I didn’t recruit Selina, as you put it. Ethan did.’

  ‘Well surely you had some say in it – you’re his business partner!’

  ‘The situation is sensitive in this case because–’

  ‘What do you mean sensitive?’

  ‘Because Ethan is co-habiting with Selina.’

  I gaped at Jamie. ‘You mean they’re living together? As in bonking each other?’

  ‘Correct. Ethan isn’t aware of all the funny business we had with Selina–’

  ‘Funny business,’ I spluttered. ‘That woman behaved like a lunatic. Is he aware he’s shacked up with a fruitcake?’

  ‘It’s quite obvious he’s totally enthralled with Selina and deadly serious about her. What am I meant to say to him, Cassie? “Oh by the way Ethan matey, did you know that your woman once had the hots for me? That she wouldn’t take no for an answer, and spent weeks harassing me and my wife?”’ Jamie raked his hair. ‘The man is dotty about her. But if it helps Cassie, Selina is dotty about Ethan.’

  ‘Oh right. And pigs fly,’ I spat.

  ‘Darling, please. Stop giving me a hard time. Hear me out. Ethan had told me his girlfriend had moved in with him, but I never made the connection who she was. Why would I? He refers to her as Lena. He hadn’t introduced her at that point. Ethan said he’d like me to meet Lena with a view to us employing her. When Selina bowled into the office, I was speechless. She acted like we’d never met. Formally shook my hand. It was all terribly civilised. Then Ethan took a telephone call and left us together. Selina begged me to not say anything. She apologised profusely for her previous behaviour–’

  ‘Oh she did, did she?’ I gnashed my teeth.

  ‘Selina said everything was water under the bridge and–’

  ‘Not for me it isn’t!’

  ‘And that she wanted to leave the past where it belonged – in the past.’

  My mouth worked but nothing came out.

  ‘Her entire focus was on Ethan. In fact, she acted like a woman deeply in love. When Ethan asked me outright if I would agree to Lena joining us, there was no professional reason to object. Whether I like it or not, she has the perfect working background and the right knowledge to progress our company.’

  ‘I don’t trust her Jamie. What if Selina wants to reignite things with you?’

  ‘What, you mean try something on when she’s already loved up with Ethan?’

  ‘Well, put like that no, but–’

  ‘Darling, let’s not argue. It’s New Year’s Eve. We are enjoying a rare night out together. I want to dance with my beautiful wife. Tell her I love her. Hold her close. I don’t want to regurgitate old girlfriends who never meant anything, and who I mean nothing to either. And if I can turn a blind eye to your ex-husband leering at you–’

  ‘Stevie was leering at Morag,’ I corrected.

  ‘And you too Cassie. So if I can be pleasant to Stevie and not get my boxers in a twist, can you do the same about Selina?’

  Fuckity fuckity fuck! I blew out my cheeks, and then shrugged in resignation. Jamie had never been in love with Selina. And whilst she might have once been in love with him, it had been a long time ago. Clearly she’d moved on. Moved on and moved in with Ethan Fareham. Well good for her, I thought magnanimously. I’m sure they made a splendid couple. The fact that Ethan was one of the plainest men I’d ever met was neither here nor there. It was probably his charm that had knocked Selina for six. Although I couldn’t exactly remember him ever oozing charisma on the few occasions I’d met him. Well perhaps it was his amazing intellect. Yes, that was probably it. All that confidential hush-hush intelligence filed away in his computerised brain. All terribly Ssh Secret Squirrel which was clearly a babe magnet. I sighed. And Selina was most definitely a babe.

  ‘Are we done with this conversation now?’ Jamie sounded brow-beaten.

  ‘I guess so. You’re right. I shouldn’t have let myself get worked up about it.’ I wound my arms tightly around my husband’s neck. Hugged him hard. Good heavens, we all had old flames lurking in our backgrounds. It didn’t mean anything at all!

  This was all Morag’s fault. Banging on about my figure and taking my eye off the ball. She’d momentarily knocked my confidence. Unsettled me. Well we’d soon see about that. Starting from tomorrow I was going to re-invent myself. Definitely. I’d pop round and see Nell, my old neighbour and dear friend. Get reacquainted with her mad Red Setter, Rocket. Together my canine chum and I would pound the pavements, toning up and working out like the good old days. I would also book myself a long overdue appointment at Fairfield’s swish hair salon. And whilst there I would make use of the vast number of designer boutiques that littered the sidewalks. Finally, I’d book myself an appointment with Morag’s Chinese herb
alist. Pop a few aphrodisiac pills. And then stand back everybody. A brand new Cassandra Mackerel would emerge – slimmer, blonder and so damned hot there would be smoke trails coming out of her Agent Provocateur knickers. Eye off the ball? Not likely.

  I gazed at my husband winsomely. Little did he know that when this fabulous creature emerged, he would be bonked vigorously every single night. Bonked until he could bonk no more. He’d be all bonked out. So if Selina did have any secret designs on my husband, he’d be impervious to her pouting charms on the grounds of – well, he’d be impotent. Yes! Brilliant idea Cass. And he’d flop into bed every night, too exhausted to do anything other than give a chaste kiss on the cheek. Bingo! And we’d both have a good night’s sleep. Sex free forever more. I frowned. Was that what I wanted? An impotent husband? Well no, of course not – not indefinitely anyway. Just temporarily. Until Eddie stopped giving me broken nights. And Selina was safely married off to Ethan. And vast with child. And then another child. Twins. Make that triplets. And couldn’t possibly return to Fareham & Mackerel ever again on account of the fact that she too was now an exhausted mother. Naturally she’d have changed over this period of time. Turned into a total frump. Frightfully mumsy. Long bobbly sweater pulled down over her jeans to hide thunderous thighs. And an enormous bottom.

  ‘That’s better Cassie,’ Jamie smiled at me approvingly. ‘You have a gleam in your eye again. Are you thinking naughty thoughts, you little minx?’

  ‘More than you realise darling,’ I snuggled into my husband’s chest as smoochy music suddenly poured out of the speakers.

  All around us couples were slow dancing. Some – a little worse for wear – treading on toes as they gazed at each other. My eyes snagged on Stevie nearby. He was looking over Charlotte’s shoulder, an expression of longing on his face. I followed his gaze and glimpsed Morag in all her unabashed glory. She had her mouth welded to Matt’s and appeared to be sucking the life out of him.

  And suddenly it was midnight. Someone put the television on. The volume was so loud it was as if we were right there – on the London pavements in the cold night air – listening to Big Ben chiming in the New Year. The small hairs on the back of my neck lifted as the poignancy of it all threatened to overwhelm me. Suddenly I was choking up with emotion. The twelfth note was drowned out in rowdy cheers. Party poppers exploded, and colourful streamers sailed through the air. Arms linked as revellers bellowed out Auld Lang Syne.

  ‘Happy New Year darling,’ Jamie folded me into his embrace. Suddenly I was being kissed very thoroughly.

  ‘Ooh I’ll have one of those!’ Morag lurched over and thrust her mouth at Jamie.

  ‘No tongues,’ I warned my friend, as Jamie deflected the kiss to his cheek.

  ‘Spoilsport,’ she pouted.

  ‘Morag!’ Stevie materialised by her side. ‘If you’re after a bit of Froggie,’ he waggled his eyebrows suggestively, ‘try me for some French snoggy.’ He stuck his tongue out optimistically and wiggled it from side to side.

  ‘Ooh you are a naughty boy,’ Morag cooed.

  ‘And you’re a naughty girl,’ Stevie bandied back.

  ‘And you’re a fucking bastard,’ screeched Charlotte zooming in with a balled fist. She caught Stevie a resounding smack on the chin. Everybody turned to look at the commotion. Morag melted away. There was a collective gasp as Stevie staggered backwards and fell into the Christmas tree.

  Jamie steered me into the hallway. ‘Time to go I think,’ he murmured. ‘Ah Matt! Fantastic party. Wonderfully entertaining. As ever.’

  Behind us all hell was breaking out.

  ‘Take care folks,’ Matt kissed me on both cheeks and pumped Jamie’s hand several times. ‘Best go and see what’s happening in there. Clearly somebody’s had enough,’ he rolled his eyes.

  Only Charlotte, I thought sympathetically.

  ‘You okay?’ asked Jamie in the back of the taxi.

  ‘Sort of,’ I winced.

  ‘What’s wrong?’

  ‘It’s these,’ I pointed to my milk-laden breasts. They’d gone rock hard. ‘They’re killing me.’

  Chapter Three

  ‘Hello?’ I bawled down the telephone. Eddie, on my hip, drowned out the caller with his lusty cries. ‘You’ll have to SPEAK UP!’ I clamped the receiver between shoulder and ear and tried not to garrotte the pair of us – we’d yet to go cordless. Freeing one hand, I grabbed a bottle of formula milk from the worktop. Eddie stepped up his howls. I tried slotting the silicone teat into my son’s mouth. He took one look at it and knocked the bottle right out of my hand.

  ‘Cass?’ a familiar voice squawked.

  ‘Hang on!’

  I flung the receiver down and put Eddie in his playpen with a rusk. To hell with the mess. Anything for a civilised conversation. I picked up the bottle, dumped it in the sink and retrieved the phone.

  ‘Nell!’ I beamed into the mouthpiece. It was always a joy to talk to my old neighbour and loyal friend. ‘Happy New Year!’

  ‘You too Cass. Can you talk for five minutes?’

  ‘I most certainly can. The children are at the stables, and Jamie is with Matt. He’s helping clear up after last night’s revelry.’

  ‘That’s why I was calling. How was the party? Did I miss a great night out?’

  ‘No,’ I lied. ‘Anyway, it’s far more important to keep your feet up.’ Nell was in the final stages of a very difficult pregnancy. She was taking no chances after a miscarriage the previous year.

  ‘So tell me all about it. Bit by bit. Blow by blow.’

  ‘There were a few of those actually.’ I glanced at the clock. Time for elevenses. I siddled towards the kettle, stretching the telephone cord to its limit. A beverage break was essential when gossiping. ‘Morag looked amazing. And Stevie was being utterly outrageous with her. Offering to give her a tonsillectomy with his tongue. That sort of thing.’

  ‘Oh God. Didn’t Matt mind?’

  ‘I think Matt is actually quite proud of having a wife other men lust after.’ I poured boiling water into the mug. ‘And Morag, for all her flirting, worships the ground Matt walks on.’

  ‘So where was Stevie’s girlfriend?’

  ‘Oh Charlotte was there. She stayed long enough to black Stevie’s eye and shove him into Morag’s ten foot Christmas tree.’

  ‘So I did miss a good party,’ Nell sighed. ‘What were you wearing? I bet you looked ravishing.’

  ‘Hardly. But talking of ravishing, guess whose name popped up last night?’

  ‘Gosh, I don’t know.’

  ‘Come on Nell, you can do better than that. I’ll give you a clue. Long dark swishy hair. Pouty lips. Drop dead gorgeous.’

  ‘I don’t know anybody like that.’

  ‘Used to go out with Jamie,’ I prompted.

  There was a pause. ‘Not Selina?’

  ‘The very one and same.’

  ‘Why were you discussing her? She’s history.’

  ‘Apparently not.’ I slurped some coffee. ‘Would you believe Selina has shacked up with Jamie’s business partner?’

  ‘No!’

  ‘Yes. And what’s more, she’s joining Fareham & Mackerel.’

  ‘You’ve got to be kidding.’

  ‘Sadly not. Ethan wants her to join the consultancy. Selina has begged Jamie not to mention what happened previously. Said she’s mad about Ethan. Or words to that effect. So as from tomorrow, she’s on the payroll.’

  ‘Well!’ I heard Nell puffing out her cheeks. ‘How do you feel about it Cass?’

  ‘Truthfully?’

  ‘Of course.’

  ‘Peed off. I’m absolutely dreading our paths cross–’

  Just at that moment, Eddie let out a screech. He’d finished his rusk. A dribbly mess trailed down the front of his sleep suit. Why hadn’t I put a bib on him? His fingers, covered in gunge, were now travelling over his head. Downy hair was sticking up all over the place. He looked like an irritable duckling.

  ‘Nell, I’m going to have to go. M
y darling boy has made the most stupendous mess. You wouldn’t believe what one little rusk can do.’

  ‘Well I pretty much remember from the first time around with Dylan. Although granted that was now several years ago. However, I can’t wait to go through it all again,’ Nell chuckled.

  ‘You won’t say that six months down the line. You’ll be knackered, up to your armpits in endless baby laundry, and have Ben complaining about a non-existent sex life.’

  Eddie’s sticky fingers tangled in his hair. His face registered pain, and then crumpled. The previous squawk turned into a howl.

  ‘Go see to Eddie,’ Nell shouted over the din. ‘Love to Jamie.’

  ‘And love to Ben and Dylan,’ I yelled back.

  Hanging up quickly, I picked up Eddie and clasped him to me. I was back in my uniform – yet another pair of Smart Price joggers and matching t-shirt in Regulation Grey. As Eddie snuggled into my chest, I felt as if we’d morphed into a human sandwich, the congealed rusk acting as the butter between us.

  ‘There, my darling. Hush.’ I patted Eddie’s back rhythmically. Bit by bit, his cries subsided. ‘I think we’d better clean you up. And then Mummy will pop you into another romper suit.’ My son, like his mother, had his own scaled-down uniform. But in various shades of blue.

  By the time I’d changed Eddie, administered Calpol for sore gums and spooned a jar of Mr Heinz into him, it was mid-afternoon. With a baby, time went nowhere. I strapped my son into his rocker chair, and turned my attention to stacking the dishwasher. Minutes later, Eddie had zonked out. Laying a crib blanket over him, I moved the rocker into the lounge. Resisting the temptation to curl up on a nearby sofa, I went back out to the kitchen to start on a tottering pagoda of ironing.

  I’d barely set up the ironing board, when the cat flap opened. A black feline head poked through. It was Wallace. His green eyes were the only distinction between him and his yellow-eyed brother, Gromit. He minced into the kitchen. I ignored him and continued running a hot iron over a pair of jodhpurs. With four pony-mad kids in the house, they went through riding breeches almost as quickly as Eddie did romper suits. Wallace weaved around my ankles, yowling pitifully.