Lipstick and Lies

by Viggiano, Debbie

  ‘Hello?’ said a voice. It was Jamie.

  Shocked, I dropped the phone. It smacked against the bedside cabinet before bouncing over the edge like a bungee jumper. The receiver rotated mid-air, dangling from the stretched cord. I stared at it, horrified, before carefully retrieving it.

  ‘Hello? Hello!’ Jamie sounded very irritated.

  What the hell was my husband doing there? Clearly Selina was not on a plane to America. Don’t jump to conclusions Cass. Perhaps Jamie was simply wrapping up an exhausting evening with a coffee. But then, why not have a coffee at home? Unless – I gasped – unless there was more than a coffee on offer? I gulped. Instead of Selina asking Jamie if he’d like one lump or two, perhaps completely different lumps were being offered. After all, there wasn’t much sex to be had at home was there? One could even say Jamie was starved of it. Sex-starved. How peculiar to see the significance of that expression only now. Stupid. Had I interrupted feverish foreplay? Had the pair of them been getting all hot and sweaty, tearing at each other’s clothes, buttons pinging off as they panted–

  ‘IS THERE ANYBODY THERE OR NOT?’ roared my husband.

  ‘Who is it darling?’ I heard Selina ask.

  Darling! Bloody darling! Bloody hell. Bloody bitch. Bloody man. Enraged I slammed the phone back into its cradle with such force the handset split in half. Bugger. I snatched it up, shoved it together and, with a trembling hand, put it back in its cradle.

  I flopped back on the pillows and stared at the ceiling. Morag was right. I’d taken my eye so comprehensively off the ball, my husband was now being baited by a woman I couldn’t begin to compete with. Selina. I whimpered, rolled over and stuffed the pillow in my mouth.

  Okay Cass, think. Think! What to do, what to do? Confront him? Wait for him to put his key in the door and then hurl myself at him, fists flying? Or – better still – woo him back!

  I leapt out of bed. Rushed off to the bathroom. And spent twenty minutes applying full makeup before dousing myself in perfume. Hot-footing back to the bedroom, I riffled through my bedside drawers until I found what I wanted. Stripping off my practical but unsexy pyjamas, I slithered into a satin negligee. I was just fluffing up my hair when headlights lit up the drive. Jamie was home. I slid back under the duvet, arranging it so my plunging neckline was showcased.

  Moments later the landing floorboards squeaked. As Jamie crept into our bedroom, he looked genuinely surprised to see me bathed in the glow of lamplight and wide awake.

  ‘You still up?’ he came over and kissed me on the forehead.

  ‘I’ve been waiting for you,’ I said huskily.

  ‘That’s nice.’ He shrugged off his suit and dumped it on a chair. ‘I’m too tired to hang it up,’ he said apologetically. ‘Ah bed!’ Jamie groaned with pleasure. ‘I lurve my bed. Turn out the light.’

  Turn out the light? Wasn’t that my line?

  ‘Darling,’ I tapped him on the nose coquettishly, ‘I’ve been waiting for you!’ I leant over and wobbled my chest in front of him.

  Jamie groaned again. But not in an aroused way. ‘Oh Cassie,’ he passed a hand wearily over his forehead, ‘sorry to disappoint you. But I’m absolutely shagged.’

  I froze. Shagged? Since when did Jamie ever use a word like that? Never! So why use the expression now? Well maybe – a small voice in my head piped up – it was because he’d just been shagged?

  For once Eddie slept all the way through the night. And wasn’t it just the Law of Sod that I, instead, should lay awake until the small hours torturing myself. Why had Jamie answered Selina’s telephone? Why had she called him darling? And why had he used the expression shagged? It seemed as if I’d barely nodded off when the bedside telephone exploded into life. I shot upwards in shock as Jamie stretched out a hand. Picking up the receiver, it promptly fell apart.

  ‘What on earth–?’ he stared at broken plastic and a small explosion of wiring. ‘What happened to the phone?’

  I sank back against the mattress and kept quiet.

  ‘Hello?’ Jamie clamped the telephone remnants against one ear. ‘Can you hear me?’ Tiny red and black cables bounced against his nose. ‘Sid! Good morning to you too. No, no trouble at all. I was getting up anyway. Sure, no problem. I’ll be with you in an hour or so.’

  ‘Who’s Sid?’

  ‘The guy I was with last night.’

  Suspicion swept over me. Had that really been someone called Sid? Or had it been her?

  ‘Cassie, do you know anything about the state of this phone?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘I guess our little babe is the culprit. Don’t let him play with the telephones darling. The flex could be dangerous.’

  I knew exactly what I’d like to do with the flex, and to whom.

  ‘If you get a moment today, buy some decent digital handsets.’

  ‘Okay.’

  ‘Now before I reluctantly leave this bed, I want to hold my wife. Like this,’ Jamie pulled me roughly into his arms, ‘and tell her how much I love her.’

  I stared at my husband. If I hadn’t been lying down, I would have swooned. Blue eyed. Honey-blond. Great body. If you liked that sort of thing – and I most certainly did – you’d consider him extremely good looking.

  ‘I love you too,’ I whispered. My lip wobbled slightly.

  ‘Is something the matter Cassie?’

  Ask him! Ask him now!

  ‘How did last night go?’

  ‘Extremely well.’

  What – the meeting with the client or the meeting at Selina’s place?

  ‘Where did you go?’

  ‘Le Gavroche.’

  ‘Anywhere else?’

  Jamie chuckled. ‘If you’re referring to a place like Stringfellows, then no. The guys aren’t the sort of clients who expect you to pick up the tabs for lap dancers. We said goodnight and then went our separate ways. Then I gave Selina a lift home, changed an awkward light bulb for her that Ethan wasn’t around to do, before finally coming home and hitting the pillow.’

  I hadn’t realised I’d been holding my breath until it whooshed out of me. Oh thank you God! Thank you, thank you, thank you.

  ‘And much as I love being in bed with you, I’m now going to haul myself out and take a quick shower.’ Jamie planted a perfunctory kiss on my cheek before bounding off to the en-suite.

  ‘Will you be home early tonight?’ I called.

  ‘Hope so,’ Jamie’s voice was drowned out by the blast of the shower.

  I sighed. I’d speak to Morag about Selina being back on the scene. Pick her brains on how to handle an ex-girlfriend. I glanced at the broken handset. First, we needed new telephones.

  An hour later, after dropping the children to school, I drove through the usual traffic of commuters and mothers finishing the school run. Arriving at Currys, I wheeled Eddie’s buggy around the aisles searching for cordless phones. After a mere ten seconds of cogitation, I selected what appeared to be a good deal. Nothing like shopping with a baby to speed up decision making. As I headed towards the checkout, my mobile rang. It was Morag.

  ‘You’ll never believe what Henry’s just done!’ she shrieked.

  Like most first-time mothers, Morag was convinced her baby son was a genius.

  ‘Do tell,’ I shoved the receipt and small change into my purse.

  ‘He just said Mama!’

  ‘No! Fancy that.’ Henry was four months old.

  ‘Come over for coffee. You can hear him speak for yourself.’

  ‘Will do. I was on my way to see you anyway.’

  ‘Oh?’

  ‘I need your advice.’

  ‘I’m putting the coffee on now. Don’t be long.’

  Twenty minutes later I walked into Morag’s bright sunny kitchen. Disentangling Eddie’s fists from my hair, I popped him into Henry’s playpen.

  ‘Hello sweetie-pie,’ I cooed at my godson. Henry was lying on his back under a plastic mobile.

  ‘Mwah-mwah,’ he gurgled happily.

 
‘You see!’ Morag said ecstatically. ‘Mama!’

  ‘Amazing! Henry is clearly destined for great things.’

  Morag smirked. ‘You don’t need to tell me Cass – I already know that.’

  It was a good thing I loved Morag. She wasn’t everybody’s cup of tea with her overpowering personality. I sat down at the table. She sashayed over with steaming mugs.

  ‘Any bickies?’ I asked.

  ‘Certainly not,’ replied Morag primly. ‘If you want something to nibble, I can cut you up some carrot sticks.’

  ‘Thanks, but I’ll pass.’ I’d had enough raw food to last me a life time.

  ‘So. What’s up?’

  ‘Ah,’ I stared morosely into my mug.

  ‘Ah what?’

  And suddenly all my fears tumbled out.

  ‘So what do you think?’

  ‘Cass, this is Jamie we’re talking about. He is one of the most honourable men I have ever met. In fact,’ she furrowed her brow, ‘I’d go so far as to say he’s the only honourable man I’ve ever met. Apart from Matt of course,’ she added as an afterthought.

  ‘So why was Selina asking my husband to change light bulbs for her at midnight?’

  ‘Because she’s a helpless female?’

  ‘Huh!’ I took a sip of coffee. ‘And why did he answer her phone?’ I raked a hand through my hair. ‘Don’t you think that’s odd? If your phone rang right now, you wouldn’t expect me to answer it would you! And don’t forget I heard Selina call him darling. What do you make of that?’

  ‘Just being friendly?’

  I gave Morag a withering look.

  ‘This is ridiculous. Selina just needed a bit of male help. That’s all.’

  ‘You think so?’

  ‘Yes!’ Morag cried. ‘Don’t you think you should tackle the obvious Cass?’

  ‘The obvious what?’

  ‘Well clearly your own love life is not ticketty-boo, otherwise you wouldn’t doubt Jamie’s intentions with Selina. Firstly, you need to get bedroom time back on track.’

  ‘But I’m knackered,’ I groaned. ‘And anyway, I tried last night and he was knackered.’

  ‘Well he had been working late! Look, most of the time you’re the one that’s exhausted. You have been for months. So you’re not thinking straight. First things first, start with a sleep plan for Eddie.’ The palm of her hand shot up like a traffic cop. My protests stopped in their tracks. ‘Enough of this nonsense about feeding on demand. Eddie isn’t a newborn anymore! Cut out the night feed. And start a controlled crying sleep plan. I promise you, within one week Eddie will have stopped disturbing you.’

  I shook my head. This was feisty Eddie we were talking about. Not placid Henry. Morag placed a photocopied article on the table.

  ‘Do it. Within days you’ll be having seven to eight hours of regular sleep. Every night. Then you’ll have some energy for horseplay. Secondly,’ Morag arched an eyebrow, ‘sometimes nature needs a helping hand. Like herbal supplements.’

  ‘Oh no–’

  ‘Oh yes.’ She rattled a little bottle at me. ‘One hundred per cent guaranteed to put fizz in your fanny.’

  ‘The last time I popped some of your pills I ended up a panting nymphomaniac.’

  Morag held up a hand again while the other scribbled out the name and number of her Chinese herbalist. She slapped the piece of paper on top of the photocopied sleep plan.

  ‘And finally,’ she gave me a frank look, ‘sort out your appearance. It’s no good looking at me like that Cass. I’m your friend. What are friends for if they can’t be a little honest?’

  ‘A little honest. Crikey, if I had balls right now I’d be clutching them in agony.’

  ‘You’re an attractive woman Cass. But look at you! Anybody would think you deliberately set out to try and look as awful as possible. Did you actually bother to brush your hair this morning? Or do you simply favour the bedraggled look?’

  ‘Bleeding hell Morag–’

  ‘And look at your sweater! Covered in Farex or similar muck. Change is due. And you can start right now,’ she picked up her mobile, ‘by seeing my hairdresser.’ She touched the mobile’s screen and selected a number.

  ‘Morag I can’t just up and go to a hair salon. Eddie will go bananas sitting on my knee for three hours.’

  ‘You can leave Eddie with me while you– ah, hello? Is that Dominique? Damn. When will she be back? Oh I see. Well I have a friend who’s having a major hair crisis. It needs urgent attention. No, I don’t know Chloe and Miguel. Are they any good? Okay. I’ll send my friend along now.’ She ended the call.

  ‘Morag, no!’ I protested.

  ‘Why not?’

  ‘Because the children will need picking up from school–’

  ‘In five hours.’

  ‘And I haven’t got Eddie’s lunch with me–’

  ‘Stop making excuses. I’m quite sure Henry won’t mind Eddie pinching a jar of Heinz. Now get a move on. Here’s the address.’

  I stood up. ‘But–’

  ‘Good-bye,’ Morag gave me a little push towards the door.

  ‘Oh for goodness sake,’ I snatched the piece of paper from her hand.

  ‘Don’t forget all your other bits,’ Morag popped the sleep plan and herbalist’s number in my handbag. ‘You can read the article and make the herbalist’s appointment while you’re covered in tin foil.’

  Half an hour later I found myself seated in a high-end salon. The entire staff were drop-dead gorgeous.

  ‘Hi, I’m Chloe,’ said a tall waif. ‘I’m your colouring technician,’ she ran her fingers through my lank tresses. ‘Your friend has instructed me to give you – and I quote – a bucket of golden highlights. Is that okay with you?’

  ‘I guess so.’

  Forty-five minutes later I looked like a pale Rastafarian with foil dreadlocks.

  ‘Okay,’ said Chloe. ‘I’ll leave that to take. Can I get you a coffee?’

  ‘Please.’

  Chloe strode off. With legs that long she should be on Britain’s Next Top Model. I stared after her. What I would give to have a figure like hers. And wear a tiny cropped top. Show off not just a flat tummy, but abs. Which reminded me, I’d completely forgotten my New Year’s resolution to reinvent myself. Well thanks to Morag’s bullying, I was now in a swish hair salon. Not the one I’d originally planned on visiting. But same result. The only matter outstanding was a date with Nell’s dog. Rocket. A canine gym machine. I ferreted around in my handbag ignoring Morag’s sleep plan and the herbalist’s telephone number.

  ‘Nell, you old bag!’ I greeted my friend affectionately. ‘How’s Bump?’

  ‘Still a bump. I’m two days overdue. But never mind that, how’s you? Has you-know-who started work with Jamie and Ethan yet?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘How’s it going?’

  ‘Now isn’t the time to tell you. But I’m putting everything right–’

  ‘Putting what right?’

  ‘Things,’ I answered vaguely, ‘and I need Rocket to help me.’

  ‘You need my dog to help you put everything right?’

  ‘My figure for starters. It’s one vast wobble. I think that’s why Jamie stayed out so late last night.’

  ‘Because he didn’t want to see you wobble?’

  ‘On account of her,’ I hissed into the handset. ‘She tried to poison me you know and then he answered her phone and I was so mad I broke ours but I bought a new one and Morag says I must see a herbalist with a sleep plan so I’m having my hair done and now I need Rocket.’

  ‘Cass I didn’t understand one word of that,’ Nell replied faintly. ‘But you are very welcome to see Rocket.’

  ‘Excellent,’ I purred into the handset. ‘I’ll pop by after the school-run tomorrow.’

  I ended the call just as Chloe materialised by my side with the coffee and a pile of magazines.

  Forty minutes later, she was back. ‘Time to be shampooed Mrs Mackerel. And then Miguel will be taking over wit
h your re-style.’

  In due course Miguel minced over. ‘What would Madame like me to do?’

  ‘Make me look amazing.’

  ‘My name is Miguel. Not Jesus. But I’ll do my best.’

  An hour later I walked out of the salon not entirely displeased. When I went to collect Eddie, Morag complimented me on the transformation.

  ‘Did you read the sleep plan?’

  ‘Yes,’ I lied scooping up Eddie.

  ‘Good. Start it today. No time like the present. And did you ring the herbalist?’

  ‘Yes,’ I lied again.

  ‘And what did he say?’

  ‘He said I could see him tomorrow.’

  Morag folded her arms across her jutting chest. ‘Why are you lying?’

  ‘How do you know–?’

  ‘Because he is actually a she. And there is at least a week’s lead time on appointments. I’ll bet you didn’t read that sleep plan either.’

  ‘Morag stop nagging me.’

  ‘I’m not the one moaning about my husband keeping the company of another woman,’ she pointed out.

  ‘I should think not!’ said an indignant voice. Matt came through the door, grinning away. He reeked of horses. ‘Hello Cass. I won’t kiss you on the grounds of being a bit whiffy. So, spill the beans. Whose naughty hubby is having an affair?’

  I shot Morag a warning look. ‘We were simply hypothesising.’

  ‘Ah. Then I’m out of this conversation. I don’t even know what hypothesising means.’’

  ‘Idiot,’ I grinned at him before turning to peck Morag on her proffered cheek. ‘I promise I’ll read the sleep plan tonight. And I’ll sort out the herbalist appointment first thing in the morning.’