Lipstick and Lies

by Viggiano, Debbie

  ‘I’ll have the wild mushroom and celeriac lasagne to start with,’ Selina said.

  ‘Excellent choice Lena,’ Ethan nodded approvingly. ‘I think I’ll have the same. What about you Jamie?’

  ‘The sweet potato waffle with the goat’s cheese mousse sounds–’ Jamie broke off. ‘Are you all right Cass?’

  I nodded. Although my head suddenly felt a bit peculiar. Clearly too much champagne on an empty stomach.

  ‘Would Madame like some water?’ asked the waiter.

  ‘Yes, I think she would,’ Jamie spoke for me. The waiter signalled to another to fetch a glass of water.

  ‘And what would Madame like to start with?’ asked the waiter.

  ‘Just give me a moment,’ I smiled, eyes glazing as I desperately tried to concentrate on the writing. I made an arm gesture. ‘Perhaps everybody could order their Mains while I peruse.’ There was a resounding silence. Had I suggested everybody order brains and booze? I shook my head again.

  ‘Roast suckling pig for me please,’ Ethan was the first to speak.

  I zoned out while the waiter took the remaining orders. A second waiter appeared with the water. I picked up the glass and banged it painfully against my teeth. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d felt so catastrophically drunk.

  ‘Is Madame ready now?’ asked the waiter.

  I nodded and picked up the menu. Stared at it. The words danced before my eyes. I stabbed with an index finger. ‘I’ll have this, this, this and this.’

  The waiter’s face remained passive. ‘So that’s cheesecake, followed by poached pears, apple soufflé and spinach on the side?’

  I gave him the thumbs up. Should one stick one’s thumbs up at the Oxo Tower? I cast about to check. Apparently not. But alarmingly several diners did appear to be eating their dinner at some very strange angles. Perhaps the floor was tilting? I did feel incredibly giddy. Had our table, perchance, turned sideways? I clung on to the sides of my chair lest I slip off. Cautiously I looked down. Good Lord. What had happened to the floor? It was miles away. I swayed on my seat.

  ‘Cassie darling, are you okay?’ Jamie peered at me. His nose zoomed in and out of my face. Good heavens. I’d never noticed before the size of his breathing apparatus. It was huge. Vast. Certainly put La Streisand’s hooter in the shade. I stared at it in fascination. And it was growing! Oh my goodness. My husband had turned into Pinocchio. Any minute now, that nose was going to jab me. Possibly even stab me. Suddenly the table top rushed up to greet me. Cutlery, champagne flutes and wine glasses went flying.

  And then everything went black.

  Chapter Fourteen

  ‘Ah. You’re awake.’

  I opened one eye. It was too much effort to open both of them. Morag appeared to be sitting at the end of my bed. She was balancing Henry and Eddie on both knees. My eyelid slammed down again. For a while I floated in a dark place. Eventually a persistent knocking on my forehead had me zooming towards wakefulness. This time I managed to open both eyes. Morag was still there, but no longer with Henry and Eddie.

  ‘Why were you knocking on my forehead?’ I mumbled.

  ‘Don’t be silly Cass. You clearly have a stonking great hangover.’

  I hauled myself upright. Blinked owlishly. ‘Where are Henry and Eddie?’

  ‘Having a snooze. They’ve had a very busy morning debating the best teething toys on the market, discussing the price of baby food and whether to take a kip in either the playpen, or Eddie’s cot with musical mobile.’

  ‘Isn’t it a bit early for them to take a nap?’ I massaged my temples gingerly. A herd of elephants seemed to have taken up residence in my brain.

  ‘Not really. It’s gone noon.’

  ‘What?’ I glanced at the bedside clock. Ten past twelve. How could that be? ‘Where is everybody?’

  ‘Well, when I arrived your mother-in-law was greeting a silver haired chappie by the name of Arthur. Seemingly he turned up a minute or two before me. Edna and Arthur were dressed in his ’n’ hers matching overalls. Moments later they headed off to your garage. Edna was clutching a portable CD player. I ventured in there about an hour ago with a cup of coffee for them both.’

  ‘Right. I suppose they’re working on the boat.’

  ‘That and singing.’

  ‘Singing?’

  Morag nodded. ‘Rod Stewart. Sailing.’

  I groaned and swung my legs out of bed. Right now water was a high priority. Both to drink and wee. Not necessarily in that order. ‘Excuse me a minute.’ I hauled myself to my feet, and staggered off to the en-suite.

  ‘Do you always go to bed in your best clothes?’ Morag called after me.

  ‘Don’t be ridiculous,’ I snorted as I hoiked up my cocktail dress. I froze. Stared at the crumpled material in horror. Last night rushed back to greet me. My headache threatened to go into overdrive. I slumped down on the toilet seat. The Oxo Tower. Dinner. With Ethan and Selina. But I hadn’t eaten any dinner. Had I? I’d looked at the menu. Had a feeling I’d ordered. Something. What? I couldn’t remember. Doubling over I rested my head on my lap while my bladder did its stuff. Flushing the chain, I peeled off my dress and stepped into the shower. I’d drink the water at the same time as washing myself.

  When I came out of the bathroom with a towel wrapped about me, Morag had pulled the bed together. She’d also lain out a fresh regulation uniform and made some toast and coffee.

  ‘Give that to me,’ she took my crushed dress. ‘What a way to treat such a sacred garment.’ She smoothed the creases before delving into my wardrobe for a hanger.

  ‘I didn’t go to bed fully clothed on purpose,’ I protested.

  ‘Clearly you were off your head,’ Morag pursed her lips.

  Annoyed, I rummaged in a drawer for some underwear. How dare my friend go all sanctimonious on me! I snatched up the freshly laundered joggers and stuck one leg in. ‘Oh do drop the face Morag,’ I rolled my eyes. ‘There have been plenty of times you’ve been plastered.’

  ‘Sure,’ she swished clothes along the rail to make room for my Little Black Dress, ‘but not in front of my husband’s business partner. There’s a time and a place to get paralytic Cass.’

  ‘But I wasn’t paralytic!’ I pulled the long-sleeved t-shirt over my head. ‘I barely drank two glasses of champagne.’

  Morag shut the wardrobe door and turned to face me. ‘Cass, two glasses of champagne wouldn’t have you head banging a table.’

  ‘I didn’t head bang anything!’ I protested. My hammering skull begged to differ. I sat down on the bed. Reached for the coffee.

  ‘Not according to Jamie.’

  ‘What? When did you talk to Jamie?’

  ‘He was busy getting the kids out of the house. He didn’t tell me much Cass. Just the basics. The bones of the evening. Delivered through clenched teeth.’

  I gulped. Nothing ever ruffled my husband’s feathers. He was always calm. Capable. In control. He was my rock. Since when had Jamie ever held a conversation through clenched teeth?

  A wave of nausea washed over me. Perhaps I’d drunk more than I’d realised. The truth was, I just couldn’t remember. I put the toast down. ‘So, do tell all.’

  ‘There isn’t much to tell.’ Morag perched on the bed next to me. ‘We were meant to be heading over to Nell’s this morning to have a post-mortem about last night. It’s meant to be you telling us what happened.’

  I picked up the toast again. ‘Just spill the beans Morag,’ I bit into the soggy bread. ‘Tell me what Jamie said.’

  ‘Well,’ Morag took a deep breath, ‘he shooed the kids into the car and made sure Edna and Arthur were out of earshot. Clearly the family is none the wiser about what happened.’

  ‘Go on.’

  ‘You drank too much, and made a complete ass of yourself. Told everybody I was training to be an Olympic hurdler. Ordered a ridiculous number of desserts. Swayed on your chair as if riding a motorbike at Brands Hatch. Finally you nose-dived into all the glassware on the table.
It’s a wonder you’ve not cut yourself. Jamie said there was broken glass everywhere.’

  I shook my head. This wasn’t true. It simply couldn’t be. ‘And then what happened?’

  ‘The entire restaurant ground to a halt. Jamie carried you out. Ethan ordered a cab. Home you came, apparently out cold all the way.’

  ‘And where is Jamie now?’

  ‘At the stables. I took Eddie off him, for which he was grateful. He said he thought he might stay with the kids for the day, and do a bit of hanging out with Matt too. Something about a football match this afternoon. He didn’t look at all happy Cass. In fact, I’d go so far as to say he looked absolutely furious.’

  Furious? My Jamie? I was silent for a moment. ‘Sorry,’ I stared at the soggy toast and tepid coffee. ‘I can’t finish this.’

  Morag sighed and took the cup and plate from me. ‘Can’t you remember anything about last night?’ she asked gently.

  ‘Bits. But not properly,’ I shook my head miserably. ‘I’d better ring Jamie. Apologise. And Ethan. Oh God,’ I put my head in my hands, ‘Selina too. Presumably she witnessed everything.’

  ‘I think that goes without saying.’

  ‘I can’t bear it Morag. It’s bad enough Ethan seeing me in that state. But her! That wretched woman! Of all the people to make a prize prat of myself in front of–’

  ‘Look Cass. Can I make a suggestion?’

  The baby monitor crackled into life as a wail went up. Eddie. I took my head out of my hands. ‘What?’ I asked, as second wail began to duet with the first. Henry.

  ‘Let Jamie calm down. Give him some space. Matt will jolly him up. And if their footie team wins the match this afternoon, Jamie will perk up even more. With a bit of luck, you’ll just get your wrists slapped.’

  ‘As opposed to Jamie divorcing me.’

  ‘Don’t be silly. Jamie worships the ground you walk on.’ The wails turned to outraged bellows. ‘Come on. Let’s sort the boys out, then get over to Nell’s.’

  ‘She was expecting us hours ago.’

  ‘Nell has a new baby Cass. Her daily schedule has just been tipped upside down. I can assure you she’ll have lost complete track of time.’

  Half an hour later our sons had been bottled, burped and changed. They were now sitting docilely in their car seats as we drove to Nell’s. Morag was behind the wheel. Her insistence on driving had nothing to do with van drivers suffering road rage, but everything to do with me being potentially over the limit. I gazed glumly out the window. Even listening to the happy sounds of Henry and Eddie blowing raspberries failed to lift my mood. Eventually we turned into Nell’s cul-de-sac. Transferring the boys from car seats to hips, we rang the doorbell.

  ‘Have you got baby Rosie’s present?’ I asked, as we waited for Nell to come to the door.

  ‘Yep. Safe in my handbag.’ Morag patted the vast hold-all draped over one shoulder.

  Nell greeted us in her nightie and dressing gown.

  ‘See?’ Morag turned to me. ‘I told you Nell’s routine would have gone to pot.’ Morag leant in and gave my old neighbour a big hug. ‘Phew. You smell a bit stinky.’

  ‘Hello Morag,’ Nell grinned wanly. ‘Nice to know you haven’t lost your sense of tact. And that’s not me personally smelling whiffy. It’s my darling daughter’s puke on this dressing gown. I must buy some muslins. Hi Cass,’ Nell squeezed me. ‘You look a bit peaky. Can’t wait to hear about last night. Good one by the looks of your eyeballs.’

  ‘So good I can’t remember anything,’ I shut the door behind us.

  ‘Where’s Rosie?’ asked Morag.

  ‘Asleep upstairs. Go and have a peek.’

  ‘I’ll be right back,’ said Morag tip-toeing up the stairs with Henry.

  I followed Nell into the kitchen. Chaos reigned. The dishwasher lid was down and the bottom shelf pulled out. It had been emptied of some clean crockery, but abandoned half way through. The sink was piled high with dirty dishes waiting to be stacked. Congealed saucepans and empty sauce jars littered the worktop. A plastic wicker basket was stationed next to an open washing machine from which clean laundry spilled. Next to it was a pile of dirty laundry awaiting attention. Tucked into the corner of the kitchen was a dog basket. Rocket was curled up within. She wagged her tail, but didn’t get up.

  ‘Your dog’s very subdued,’ I said. ‘What’s the matter with her?’

  ‘She’s tired, bless her.’

  Since when had tired ever figured in Rocket’s doggy vocabulary? The dog was usually bursting out of her skin with energy.

  ‘Rocket has been doing the night shift with me,’ Nell beamed. ‘Every time Rosie wakes up, Rocket is right there by my heels. She keeps me company while I feed the baby. She’s even learnt to fetch me the nappy pack when I change Rosie. She’s amazing.’

  ‘Thank goodness she’s not jealous.’

  ‘If Rocket could talk she’d ask to have Rosie in her basket, wouldn’t you boofles?’ Nell cooed at the setter.

  Rocket thumped her tail, but didn’t move. I’d never seen her like this before. But then again I’d never seen a dog with bags under its eyes before either.

  ‘Rosie is absolutely gorgeous!’ Morag came into the kitchen. ‘I can’t tell you how broody I feel just looking at her. She’s so tiny. So exquisite. I want another baby. That’s it. I’ve decided.’

  ‘Well before you pin Matt down and get big with child again, let’s put the kettle on,’ said Nell. She stared vaguely around the kitchen. ‘If I could only find it.

  ‘Where’s Ben?’ asked Morag.

  ‘Out for the afternoon. Taken Dylan off for some father and son time. Ah, there it is!’ Nell shoved some bottles out the way. ‘Oh, it’s empty.’ She stared from the kettle to the congested sink. ‘I’ll just pop into the downstairs loo and use the tap in there.’

  Morag turned to me. ‘Take Henry from me Cass. I can’t stand this muddle. Trust Ben and Dylan to naff off and leave a bombsite. Some men just haven’t a clue.’

  Nell returned with the kettle and plugged it in.

  ‘Here,’ I thrust Eddie and Henry at Nell. ‘Take the boys into the lounge and let me help Morag. We’ll soon have the place ship-shape. There are some baby toys in my hold-all to keep them entertained.’

  Fifteen minutes later, order was restored. Machinery whirred. The tumble dryer was humming with wet laundry, the washing machine was sloshing the next load, the dishwasher had started a fresh cycle, empty glass jars had been rinsed and taken out to the recycling box in the garage, and surfaces shone like a new pin. Morag made the coffee and, finding an unopened packet of Hob Nobs, took everything through to the lounge.

  ‘I’ll put the drinks here,’ she said setting a tray on the occasional table, ‘away from the boys.’

  The babies were laying on their tummies, heads up and bobbing about. Henry was rocking his little body in a desperate effort to move around. Eddie, two months older and that much bigger, was actually attempting to crawl. Another week or two and he might have mastered it – and then I’d really have my work cut out keeping an eye on him.

  ‘Thank goodness Rosie is still sleeping,’ Nell said. ‘Hopefully she’ll stay down long enough for me to enjoy this.’ She leant back in her armchair, and lifted a mug to her lips.

  ‘And while you’re enjoying five minutes peace and quiet, you can open this,’ Morag rummaged in her hold-all. ‘This is for Rosie, from me and Cass with our love. She’s too young for it now, but will appreciate it later.’

  Nell took the parcel and tore at the wrapping paper. ‘This is beautiful girls.’ She smiled in delight at the Wedgewood Peter Rabbit Dinner set. ‘Thank you.’ She set the china carefully on the occasional table and once again leant back in her armchair. ‘So come on Cass. What happened last night?’

  ‘Apparently I behaved in an embarrassing and outrageous fashion.’

  ‘However much booze did you ship?’ asked Nell.

  ‘Well that’s just it. I didn’t. Not really. Two glasses of cham
pagne at best. But clearly enough to render me virtually unconscious until noon today.’

  Nell went very still. Her expression was solemn. ‘Cass, people don’t pass out on two glasses of champagne. This smacks of having your drink spiked.’

  ‘Don’t be silly,’ I laughed, ‘who would do such a thing–’

  We stared at each other.

  ‘Selina,’ Morag said.

  ‘B-But why?’ I asked bewildered. I knew there was no love lost between us, but surely she wouldn’t do something like that. ‘Apart from anything else – how could she have? I was sitting opposite her!’

  ‘Well it’s obvious how,’ Nell puffed out her cheeks. ‘She nobbled your champers. Did she touch your glass at any point?’

  Like forked lightning, a dollop of memory flashed through my brain. ‘Yes!’ I squeaked. ‘She reached across the table to pick something up.’ A cocktail list? I frowned in concentration. ‘She almost knocked my glass over, but caught it in the nick of time. And later she poured me more champagne. But nobody else.’

  ‘Sorted,’ said Nell. ‘She slipped something in when she righted that glass. And she topped up your glass to speed up the effect of the Mickey Finn. This happened to a colleague of Ben’s a few months ago – a bloke would you believe. He went away on business, and later had his drink spiked in the hotel’s bar. The police suspected the barmen did it. And when this chap was carrying on all drunk and peculiar, the barman and another member of staff put him to bed. In the morning he woke up to find his wallet gone, along with his mobile, laptop and the keys to his car. And when he finally got home, he’d been burgled. No prizes for guessing who’d robbed him.’

  ‘If this is true,’ said Morag, ‘then I feel perfectly dreadful. I for one have urged Cass to tolerate this woman. Not just for the sake of Jamie’s business partnership, but for the family and the whole–’ Morag swept an arm wide, ‘lifestyle thing.’

  ‘Well we’ve all urged Cass to tolerate this woman. But hang on a minute,’ said Nell, ‘there is no proof it was actually Selina who did this. I mean, could it have been the waiter?’

  ‘Why would the waiter put drugs in my drink?’ I asked.