Lipstick and Lies

by Viggiano, Debbie

  Edna stopped dancing about for a moment. ‘Yes, thank you Cassandra dear. In fact, I wanted a word with you about our project.’

  ‘Oh?’

  ‘I was going to go home tomorrow night, but–’ she hesitated.

  ‘What is it Edna?’

  ‘Well Eddie’s little rocking horse is pretty much finished. Just a final bit of paintwork and then it can sit in his nursery ready for him to grow into. Arthur and I would very much like to get started on the boat. It would be wonderful if we could use your garage. It’s so big. An ideal working space.’

  ‘Of course you can Edna. Jamie and I never bother putting our cars away. Use it for the duration.’

  ‘That’s marvellous. Thank you dear. And would you mind terribly if I stayed a few more nights. Just while Arthur and I start the ball rolling so to speak.’

  ‘Not at all.’ I paused. Would this mean Arthur would be staying here too? I had a sudden vision of Edna and a silver-haired gentleman tucked up together on the pull-out bed. My expression must have been an open book. Edna immediately went to great lengths to point out that Arthur lived only two roads away, and could be here in minutes, whereas her own house was a good hour away.

  ‘Well I’d better get my skates on,’ I picked up the keys to the Muck Truck. Turning to Eddie I kissed the top of my son’s head. ‘Be a good boy for Nanny.’

  On the drive to Boxleigh Grammar, my thoughts strayed back to Stevie and Selina. Should I tell Jamie? He would probably dismiss it in the first instance as nothing other than gossip by Morag. Which of course it was. But, I frowned, if Jamie was concerned, might he not feel that he should tell Ethan? Was it fair to put him in a potentially invidious position? And would Ethan appreciate being told? Would he not be embarrassed that his business partner knew he was being cuckolded? I sighed and leant back in the driver’s seat. For all Morag’s talk, I needed hard evidence. Something a little more definite than a crossed out entry in a riding school’s diary. I signalled right and drove into Boxleigh Road. I wouldn’t say anything to Jamie for now. I’d do a bit of detective work first. Like finding out the nearest riding school to Matt and Morag’s equestrian centre – and maybe paying it a visit this Sunday.

  Chapter Eleven

  ‘Ooh, something smells interesting,’ said Jamie. He sniffed the air cautiously as he came through the front door. A blast of wintry air whipped around the hallway.

  ‘Shepherds pie,’ I smiled. ‘All my own work.’

  ‘Jolly good. I’m absolutely starving.’

  I could sense my husband trying to muster enthusiasm as he shrugged off his suit jacket. He slung it over the banister. It landed on a pile of kids’ coats. This family seemed to have a total allergy to pegs, coat hangers and wardrobes. I made a mental note to put them all away at some point, and followed Jamie through to the kitchen. He washed his hands at the sink, before parking his bottom on a chair at the kitchen table.

  ‘Am I too late to eat with the family tonight?’

  ‘’fraid so darling,’ I rummaged around in the range and extracted a plated meal. ‘We had dinner at six.’ I set the steaming food before my husband. ‘You’re late tonight. I thought you said half seven. It’s gone eight.’

  ‘Sorry. Ethan will be back on Monday, so things will be a little easier.’ Jamie regarded the meal before him. Sock-grey mince, dubious mash and anaemic peas. He picked up his fork gamely.

  ‘I thought Ethan was back from America.’ I pulled up a chair and sat down.

  ‘He is. But jet-lagged. So he spent today working from home. We’ve been on the phone to each other throughout the day. By the way, Ethan wants us to celebrate the American success. So we’re out to dinner with him and Selina tomorrow night. Oh Cassie don’t look at me like that.’

  I exhaled slowly. Counted to ten. ‘Right,’ I said lightly. ‘I shall look forward to it. What are we eating this time? Raw turnip and sprout crudités?’

  Jamie put down his fork. Took my hand. ‘You will be very pleased to know we shall be eating out. A posh restaurant this time. The Oxo Tower.’

  My mouth dropped open. The Oxo Tower! For the uninitiated, this is a restaurant that is quite simply the bee’s knees. Owned by Harvey Nicks, slotted into a prime spot on the South Bank of the River Thames, this would be a whole new experience in arty farty dining. And knowing I wasn’t going to be subjected to Selina’s raw food offerings, the menu would most definitely be arty rather than farty.

  ‘Can I presume from your bemused expression that you are feeling somewhat happier?’ Jamie asked.

  ‘Oh yes,’ I nodded, ‘much, much happier.’

  ‘Thank God for that,’ Jamie closed his eyes, apparently offering a prayer of thanks upwards.

  Before I could make any further comment about Selina and the impending restaurant date, the kitchen door opened. Gusts of cold air swirled around our ankles as Edna came in. Hello. Somebody was following in her wake.

  ‘Good evening my dears.’ She ushered a tall silver-haired man into the warmth of the kitchen. ‘I’d like you both to meet Arthur.’

  For the second time in as many minutes I found my mouth dropping open. Jamie immediately stood up and greeted Arthur properly. The men pumped hands chummily.

  ‘A pleasure to meet you Arthur. We’ve heard a bit about you, haven’t we darling?’ Jamie turned to me. I stood up too, scraping my chair noisily.

  ‘Hello Arthur.’ I also shook his hand. Arthur’s grip was firm. Clearly a no-nonsense person. Like Edna. ‘I’m Cassandra. But do call me Cass.’

  ‘Good evening to you both,’ Arthur smiled warmly. ‘Don’t let me stop you from having your meal Jamie. Please, carry on.’

  Jamie’s smile faltered. ‘Um, I think I was just about finished actually.’ He turned to me. ‘That was absolutely delicious darling.’

  I whisked the plate away. ‘Do sit down Arthur. Can I get you coffee? Or tea? You both look frozen.’ I transferred Jamie’s leftovers into a cat bowl. Perhaps Wallace and Gromet would eat it. Reaching for the kettle, I blasted in some water.

  ‘A cup of strong coffee would be delightful Cass,’ said Arthur. ‘After you, Edna my love.’ He pulled a chair out for my mother-in-law to sit upon.

  ‘Why, thank you Arthur. Always such a gentleman,’ Edna simpered, before sitting down.

  I boggled into the kettle. My mother-in-law, usually made of incredibly stern stuff, was behaving in a way never witnessed before. Like a teenager. In the grip of a schoolgirl crush. I risked a glance at Jamie. He was looking slightly bemused. He caught my eye. His look said it all. I’m totally unprepared for this. I turned my attention back to the kettle, popped its lid down and flicked the switch.

  ‘So!’ Jamie rubbed his hands together in a matey way. ‘I hear there are plans to build a boat. Is that right?’

  And Arthur was off. He joyfully told Jamie about his seafaring days in the Merchant Navy, his position as Master Mariner, and worldwide travels on the waves. I slid mugs in front of them, and silently took my seat. Edna was adding her tuppence worth too – talking excitedly about the shell of a boat they’d found at a yacht club. Plans were afoot to add to the framework, and then refurbish. Now back to Arthur who was waxing lyrical about the pros and cons of diesel engines against petrol. Jamie’s eyes were on stalks. Now Edna again, gabbling about somebody loaning a trailer to transport this twenty footer to Lavender Hill where it would be transformed into a cabin cruiser; back to Arthur now thanking Jamie for agreeing to lend our well-proportioned garage for the duration – I avoided Jamie’s gaze as he gawped incredulously at me – but once again Edna had picked up the reins of conversation and was rattling on about sailing routes that encompassed the Isle of Skye, Ireland, the Isle of Man, and sailing down the west coast, before once again Arthur picked up the conversational thread and told us about their even bigger plans to eventually do a continental trip. Judging from their blissful expressions, both of them had mentally reached Nirvana. Dear God. This couple were in their seventies. What was wrong with a
retirement spent in front of the telly wearing his ‘n’ her bobble slippers? Just at that moment there was a cry from the baby monitor.

  ‘Please excuse me,’ I murmured, before slipping away. I don’t think Edna and Arthur even noticed me go. They were lost in an exciting world of ocean adventure. I padded into Eddie’s nursery. ‘Hello little man. Why have you woken up? Oh pooh!’

  I picked Eddie up, laid him down on his changing mat and unbuttoned his romper suit. Nothing like a stinky nappy to remind one that life wasn’t all sailing boats and sunshine. As I set to work with wipes and Sudocrem, I wondered if Nell might be doing the very same thing now she was back home with baby Rosie. I would telephone her. Just as soon as I’d strapped my son into this clean nappy.

  ‘Keep still for Mummy, there’s a good boy.’ Eddie energetically kicked his plump little legs and knocked the nappy out of my grasp. ‘Oh no! Stop!’ My son chuckled with laughter as pee shot straight up in the air and arced over my sweater. Marvellous. Start again.

  By the time I’d settled Eddie and changed my top, Arthur had gone and Edna had taken herself off for a bath. I tracked Jamie down in the lounge, slumped in front of the television. Toby and Jonas were either side of him, their sprawling bodies aping that of my husband. He looked up as I stood in the doorway.

  ‘You don’t mind if I catch a bit of footie do you?’

  ‘Only if you don’t mind me holing up in the study with the phone for the next hour. I want to chat with Nell.’

  Jamie waved a hand. ‘Take as long as you like. Me and the lads are fine.’

  ‘Boys, isn’t it past your bedtime?’ I asked.

  ‘Aw Mum, please let us stay up and watch the football. It’s Friday. No school tomorrow.’

  ‘Oh okay,’ I sighed. It was easier to give in. I had a quick check on Petra and Livvy. They were both in their respective bedrooms and on their mobile phones. It transpired they were talking to each other. Nothing like wasting their contract minutes. I shook my head in disbelief. Again it was easier to give in than moan. Once back downstairs, I barricaded myself into the study and picked up the phone.

  ‘Nellie-Wellie!’ I grinned into the handset. ‘How’s it all going?’

  ‘Cass?’ my friend squawked. In the background, all hell seemed to be breaking loose. I could hear Ben rumbling furiously at Dylan who in turn was answering back in a pre-teen slang that I could barely understand. This was followed by a blood-curdling yell fit to perforate eardrums. The sound of a newborn’s wails joined the cacophony. Nell promptly burst into tears.

  ‘I-I can’t cope,’ my friend sobbed. ‘I’m totally out of my depth. Should never have had another b-baby. Dylan is jealous. And Ben’s as much use as a boil on the b-bum. And R-Rosie won’t feed.’

  ‘Stay right there. I’m coming over.’

  ‘Cass, it’s nearly ten o’clock. I can’t drag you out. You have your own baby to see to.’

  ‘Eddie is fast asleep. I also have a hands-on husband and a mother-in-law at the helm.’ Although Edna would be transferring to a boat’s helm in due course, but no matter. We would survive. That’s why Mr Heinz had invented baked beans. To save families like mine from the dubious culinary skills of mothers like me. ‘See you soon.’ I rattled the phone down and picked up my car keys.

  When I went into the lounge to tell Jamie about my imminent departure, he and the boys were doing a war dance up and down the sofa’s edge.

  ‘They scored darling!’ Jamie beamed before high-fiving Jonas and Toby.

  ‘I couldn’t be more thrilled,’ I replied. Football left me cold. A lot of men rolling around in mud, one minute snogging each other, the next sitting on top of each other. Or was that rugby? Either way, I was immune. ‘Nell’s having a crisis. I may be a while.’

  ‘Oh dear. Baby blues?’

  ‘Possibly. Listen out for Eddie.’

  ‘Will do. Give Nell my love. Oh no ref! That’s a foul!’

  I left them to it. Removing my coat from the heap over the banister – I really must put this little lot away – I went out into the freezing night.

  When I pulled up outside Nell’s house, I could hear the rumpus within from the driveway. Neighbours’ net curtains were twitching. I rang the bell. After a minute or two, Ben flung the door open. To say he looked harassed was an understatement. He was sporting a deep gash on the forehead after fainting in the hospital delivery room.

  ‘Adjusting to the impact of a new addition?’ I smiled.

  ‘Cass!’ Ben rubbed one hand over his forehead and promptly winced. ‘Dear God. It’s like World War Three in here. Nothing I do is right. And Dylan’s playing up. I’d have thought an eleven year old wouldn’t be resentful, but guess I got that wrong too.’

  ‘I’m not jealous,’ a voice snarled. I looked beyond Ben to see Dylan standing on the bottom stair. His face was chalk-white, eyes puffy from crying. Dylan was in the same class as Liv and Toby. Unlike my twins, puberty had paid an early visit. A fine down of dark hair covered his upper lip. He’d shot up almost overnight and was a good head taller than Toby. His pyjama bottoms were about five inches too short. He made an incongruous sight, the boy-man in his Star Wars pyjamas.

  ‘Hi Dylan,’ I pushed past Ben who closed the door after me. ‘What’s up?’ I watched as Dylan wrestled with his emotions. He’d known me all his life. We were very fond of each other. But clearly he was struggling to switch off the Rude Button.

  ‘You’re no better than him!’ Dylan jerked his head towards his father. ‘Having babies,’ he enlightened me. ‘It’s disgusting. I know all about sex Cass! We’ve had the lessons at school. There’s no way people of your age should be–’ Dylan floundered while his brain sought the appropriate word to convey his revulsion.

  ‘Okay,’ I shrugged off my coat, ‘thanks for sharing your opinion Dylan. Very thoughtful of you. Meanwhile, where’s Mum?’

  ‘Upstairs,’ Dylan spat, ‘trying to shove her tits into Rosie’s mouth.’

  ‘Good God!’ I feigned shock. ‘It shouldn’t be allowed should it? Whatever shall we do?’

  ‘Buy formula milk!’ Dylan howled.

  ‘Absolutely,’ I agreed. ‘And presumably you’d do the same if Rocket had puppies?’

  Dylan looked perplexed. ‘What are you talking about Cass? Rocket is an animal. It’s nature for mammals to suckle their young.’

  ‘So it is. You’re absolutely right Dylan. I’ll leave you with that thought while you make me a cup of coffee. Oh, and two Hob Nobs please. The dinner I made earlier was absolutely ghastly and I’m feeling somewhat peckish.’

  I marched past Dylan and took the stairs two at a time. I found Nell in the master bedroom perched on the edge of the bed. One of her boobs hung redundantly out of her nightie, rejected by Rosie. Both mother and daughter were bawling heartily. Next to the bed sat Rocket, a picture of trembling concern. I was reminded of Nana, the dog from Peter Pan, gamely attempting to look after her family. Nell glanced up as I walked in.

  ‘I d-don’t know what to do,’ she wailed.

  ‘Oh Nell. You big silly. Of course you know what to do.’ I went over to my friend and put an arm around her shoulder. ‘Put your boob away and let Rosie calm down. Give her to me for a minute.’ I took the tiny infant from Nell. Crumbs. I’d forgotten how weeny a newborn was. It made me realise how much Eddie had grown. He was like a heffalump compared to Rosie’s fragility. I placed the baby over my shoulder, and gently rubbed her back. ‘Hush little one, hush,’ I crooned. Nell re-arranged herself, and then reached for some tissues by the bed. She blew her nose noisily.

  ‘I’m bleedin’ knackered. Ben’s absolutely useless at putting meals on the table. He hasn’t even walked the dog today.’

  ‘Well he is recovering from concussion Nell. That cut looks nasty. Couldn’t Dylan have taken Rocket out for you earlier on, after school?’

  ‘Dylan!’ Nell snorted. ‘He’s too busy telling us how disgusting we are for doing it. Like we’re dinosaurs or something.’

  ‘But h
e must have known for ages you and Ben still do it – unless he’s spent the last nine months totally oblivious to your bump. Did he seem upset about it when you were pregnant?’

  ‘No. Not at all. Quite the opposite. He was delighted to be having a little brother or sister. Kept telling me he couldn’t wait to help. It’s so hurtful hearing him talking like this. I can’t understand what’s come over him.’

  ‘I’ll have a chat with him in a minute. Meanwhile, your darling daughter has gone very quiet.’ I transferred Rosie into the cradling position and peered at her. She was almost asleep. ‘Here. Try putting her to the breast now. See what happens.’

  Nell took the drowsy infant. Within seconds Rosie had latched on. She began to suck contentedly.

  ‘You’re a genius!’ Nell gave a watery smile.

  ‘It’s a trick I used when Eddie was initially refusing to nurse. I think sometimes anxiety can run high on both sides. When they’re almost asleep, it removes the fretfulness.’ I smiled at the sight before me. ‘In six months time you’ll be begging my help on weaning. Back in a bit. Let me find your son.’

  In fact I nearly tripped over Dylan as I left Nell’s bedroom. Clearly he’d been ear-wigging.

  ‘Your coffee’s ready,’ he growled.

  ‘Thank you. Come on,’ I led the way, ‘we need to talk.’

  ‘I have nothing to say to you Cass.’

  ‘That’s fine. But I have plenty to say to you.’ I steered Dylan into the kitchen. ‘Sit down.’

  Dylan sat. His back was rigid, jaw set. For a moment his face worked furiously, but he remained silent. I could hear the football on in the lounge. Ben had absented himself and was clearly watching the same match as Jamie.

  ‘So,’ I dragged a stool out and perched opposite Dylan. ‘What’s it all about eh?’

  ‘What’s what all about?’ Dylan scowled.

  ‘Oh come on Dylan.’ I took a sip of coffee. ‘I’m talking about this attitude. This,’ I gestured with one hand, ‘anger. Why? Only a few days ago you couldn’t wait to welcome the baby. Said you wanted to push the buggy around the park. Help Mum with nappies. You even hinted at getting up in the night to Rosie – not that your mother would allow that, she doesn’t want you tired for school. So what’s changed all that?’