‘My plimsolls are missing,’ he whined.
‘They’re probably under your bed,’ I said.
‘No they’re not. I checked. I bet that bloody Richard Clegg took them.’
‘Don’t swear Tobes.’ The microwave bleeped. ‘Richard Clegg?’ I removed Eddie’s feed. ‘I know that name.’
‘Do you?’ Toby looked surprised. ‘How come?’
‘Dylan happened to mention him. Said he’d had a spot of bother with this boy. In fact,’ I shook the bottle, ‘As far as Richard Clegg goes, I was going to ask you all to keep an eye on Dylan.’
‘He’s a pain in the arse,’ said Toby. ‘Richard that is. Not Dylan.’
‘Yeah, and a chav too,’ added Jonas.
‘Sorry,’ I rolled my eyes apologetically at Arthur.
Arthur took a loaded plate from Edna and sat down. ‘Why don’t you simply ask him to kindly return your plimsolls?’ he suggested amiably.
‘Because,’ Toby explained patiently, ‘Richard Clegg is built like a brick sh–’
‘Toby!’ I warned. ‘Just all stick together. Get the plimsolls back and look after Dylan.’
Jonas pressed an index finger against the side of his nose and winked. ‘I get your drift Cass. Consider it done.’
‘Marvellous,’ I sighed. ‘And I’ll be dropping Dylan home so he doesn’t have any problems with this bully after school. Now I must get upstairs to Eddie and sort him out. Meanwhile Jonas–’ I rummaged in a drawer, ‘here are my keys. See you all in the car in fifteen minutes.’
I hastened up the stairs. Eddie had pulled himself upright, little fists clinging onto the bars of his cot. He gave me a dribbly grin.
‘Hello little man!’ I beamed. ‘Oh phew. Somebody has a stinky nappy. Here. Take this. Mummy will be back in two minutes.’
I left my smelly son happily guzzling from his bottle and charged off for the quickest wash and change in history. One day I might get around to wearing make-up on a school day. For now a dash of lip gloss would have to do. I tore back into Eddie’s nursery just as the last dregs of milk were going down the hatch. Picking my son up, he rewarded me with a huge belch. Five minutes later my baby was topped, tailed and dressed. I swung Eddie onto my hip and hastened back down to the kitchen. Arthur was already out in the garage. Edna was loading up the dishwasher.
‘I’m popping into Fairview after the school run,’ I said, removing another of Eddie’s bottles from the fridge and chucking it into my super-sized Mummy holdall. I spun round and grabbed a couple of Heinz jars from the larder for good measure. That should keep Eddie’s hunger pangs at bay for a while.
‘Now worries Cassandra dear. Arthur and I will be out on the boat for most of the day. And don’t worry about dinner tonight. I put a large steak and kidney pie in the freezer just before Christmas. We can all enjoy it this evening. There’s plenty of veg in the fridge too.’
‘Great stuff.’ Having a mother-in-law virtually living with us did have its benefits. ‘Well I’ll see you later then.’ I checked there were sufficient nappies in my hold-all along with my purse, then grabbed my coat and went out to the car where the children were waiting.
After the usual customary crawl to school, I was just about to set off in the direction of Fairview when my mobile rang. It was Stevie.
‘Hi Cass. Can you talk a minute?’
‘Yes. I’m parked up at the moment. Just watching the kids go through the school gate.’ A small lump lodged in my throat. These days the children rarely seemed to want much input with me. I felt almost defunct as a mother in the cuddly sense. Most of the time I seemed to be a cash machine, a taxi service or a personal maid. The days of children rushing out to greet me clutching wet paintings had long passed. Nor did they want to confide in me. Instead they confided in each other. Or their friendship groups. On the one hand it was lovely they were so independent. I wanted them to flourish and grow into confident young adults. But on the other, boy did I miss those days where Mummy was the centre of their universe.
‘Are they okay?’
‘Yes,’ I sighed. ‘They are very okay. And you?’
‘Ah. Well, that’s one of the reasons why I was ringing actually. About this weekend’s access. Not that it really makes much difference to the twins, but if you could let them know that Charlotte and I are no longer together.’
‘Really?’ I feigned surprise. Stevie wasn’t to know that Morag had bumped into Charlotte at Tesco’s and already banged the jungle drums to me about Charlotte’s departure. I was surprised it had taken Stevie so long to mention it. Surely he’d been home somewhere between his ex-girlfriend’s departure and the horsey day out with his new amour? Was it only now that he’d spotted a Dear Stevie note in Charlotte’s handwriting propped up on the mantelpiece?
‘Silly girl,’ Stevie tutted, ‘but it’s probably for the best. All that baby business. Not for me.’
‘Yes, I remember you saying.’ The children disappeared around the corner of a building and out of sight. I started the engine up. ‘So, you don’t mind being single again?’ I indicated and pulled out.
‘Oh no. Not at all. It’s quite a relief actually. From now on I want a relationship with no strings. Preferably with a married woman. Or one that’s about to be married. That would do very nicely, ha ha!’
‘Does that mean you’ve met one?’ I asked.
‘Met what?’
‘A woman that’s about to be married?’
‘Cass you really are incredibly nosey.’
‘I’ll take that as a yes then.’ In the background I heard Stevie’s doorbell ring. ‘Are you still at home?’ I asked.
‘Yeah,’ Stevie sounded cagey, ‘bad back. Must go. My masseuse has arrived.’
‘God Stevie, you don’t change. Have fun in your sick bed.’
My ex-husband chuckled and rang off. Interesting. He was pulling a sickie. And according to Jamie, Selina was off sick today too. Still, it was none of my business. From now on, the two of them could get on with it. They could bonk each other senseless. I felt immensely sorry for Ethan, but was hardly in a position to enlighten him. And Jamie thought I had an over-active imagination. So that was that. I drove to Fairview with my mind firmly on evening dresses and the impending ball banquet. This time I was going to have my wits about me. Oh yes. My plate and wine glass would be a million miles away from Selina’s butterfly hands.
In due course I arrived at Fairview. Pulling Eddie’s buggy from the boot, I strapped him in, made sure my hold-all was hanging over one of the handles and then set off. Shopping with a baby wasn’t ideal. The moment you found something you wanted to try on, it would be the Law of Sod that baby would cry and demand your attention. I’d done the ignore it and carry on thing but unfortunately Eddie had copied me. As in the carry on bit. And the game of wits had been won by my son, especially as by that point I’d had other shoppers casting the sort of dark looks that clearly conveyed I was a negligent mother. So when I cruised into John Lewis, glided up an escalator and discovered a pale pink evening dress begging to be tried on, I was totally prepared for Eddie’s blood-curdling screams to start.
‘There, there darling,’ I grinned at my howling son, ‘Mummy has something nice for you to chomp on while she goes into the changing room.’ I rummaged in my hold-all and withdrew a Rusk. ‘Mmmmm,’ I rolled my eyes in an I’ve-just-died-and-gone-to-heaven way. ‘Look what Mummy has for Eddie!’
With peace briefly restored, I hastened into the changing room. In mounting excitement I stripped off my regulation grey joggers and long tee and let the gown slither over my head. The colour was perfect with my complexion. The dress clung to my curves beautifully. Although – I glanced down at the hem puddling over the floor – it would need some incredibly high heels. No problem. I slipped the gown off. Shoe shop next.
By mid-afternoon I was pretty much done. I free-wheeled the buggy out to the car park with not just a carefully packed evening dress in the shopping tray, but also a boxed pair of pink satin killer hee
ls and matching evening bag. I just hoped Jamie didn’t have a fit when he received the credit card bill. I set about strapping Eddie into his car seat and dismantling the buggy. Placing the shopping bags carefully on top of the pram, I slammed the boot down, jumped into the driver’s seat and started the car up. Eddie was due his afternoon nap. Although, I glanced in the rear view mirror at my son, it was apparent he was on the verge of crashing out any...second...now. His eyelids fluttered down, dark lashes sweeping rosy cheeks.
I popped the gear into reverse and was just edging out, when I nearly stalled the engine in shock. For there, walking right behind my car, was Stevie. He didn’t see me. Nor did his companion. I paused, feet depressing the clutch and brake pedals, and watched slack-jawed as the pair of them sauntered over to a bright green Mazda MX-5 convertible sports car. Oh very nice. Clearly Fareham & Mackerel were paying a pretty penny for this particular employee to drive around in that. Stevie was carrying a couple of M&S shopping bags from the food hall. Selina was carrying a pale pink boutique bag adorned with a fancy logo. I recognised it as that of a hideously expensive lingerie shop. Whatever lay within that bag would be black or red, incredibly wispy and extortionately expensive. Selina’s key fob popped the central locking. Shopping was chucked carelessly into the boot. Moments later the engine burst into life and the car reversed out of its parking space. I released the clutch on the Muck Truck and did likewise. And then I did what all good detectives do. I followed them.
Chapter Eighteen
As Selina’s nifty little sports car edged out of the car park and accelerated off, I realised I needed to change my mindset about speed. Immediately. Gulping hard, I clutched the steering wheel and applied pressure to the accelerator. The car’s engine rose and I changed gear. Third. Now fourth. Okay Cass. You can do this. You can drive at – I peered at the speedometer – forty five miles per hour. I was now in fifth gear. This was unchartered territory with my baby in the car. My eyes darted to the rear view mirror and sought out Eddie in his car seat. He was fast asleep, head lolling to one side. I gripped the steering wheel tighter and sped after Selina. For a while it appeared the lovers were heading for Boxleigh. Certainly I had assumed they were both going back to Stevie’s house. But in due course Selina filtered on to the A2 heading towards Greenwich. Surely she wouldn’t be taking Stevie back to Ethan’s apartment? That would be far too risky now Ethan was back in the UK. For a while we simply cruised. I glanced nervously at the speedometer. We were up to sixty miles per hour. Water was trickling down my sides. Were my armpits leaking? I risked taking one hand off the steering wheel and flicked the air con on. So what if the outside temperature was only five degrees. Right now, inside my long tee, there was a heatwave going on.
Eventually the Mazda filtered off the carriageway. We were heading towards Blackheath. Ah yes. I seemed to remember Jamie saying that Selina had an apartment in this area. Had she not sold it before moving in with Ethan? I had a feeling I was about to find out. We bounced along several residential roads before Selina indicated left. Slowing down, I watched as the Mazda swung through a pair of towering twin gateposts topped with concrete lions. I crawled past. Whichever apartment was hers, it was part of an elegant Grade II listed building. I indicated and pulled over, parking two wheels illegally on the pavement. Craning my neck round, I watched as Selina and Stevie – now carrying the shopping bags – went through the imposing front door. They’d had a morning bonk, done a bit of sexy shopping and were no doubt all set for more sex with sex food on the side. I shook my head. What a way to spend a day. Scanning the building, I deduced there were three flats. Basement, ground and top floor. Very smart. Very expensive. The lobby door closed behind them. For a moment I wondered what to do next. Jamie would be apoplectic if he knew I’d gone spying. I couldn’t possibly tell him. Nor would it do any good trying to convince him Stevie and Selina were having an affair. It would make his position with Ethan untenable. And if I confronted Stevie, what would he say? Probably, ‘Mind your own business Cass.’ Which, come to think of it, was more or less what Jamie had said when we’d bathed Eddie last night.
I glanced at my watch. Time to be thinking about the school run. And not a moment to lose, because no way was I roaring back to Boxleigh Grammar at nearly sixty miles per hour. Forty minutes later I was parked outside the school gates. Eddie was starting to stir. He opened his eyes and grinned with delight when his siblings piled into the car.
‘Hi Cass,’ Dylan slid in behind Toby. ‘You don’t need to give me a lift in future. Everything is fine with me and Richard Clegg now.’
‘Is it?’ I waited for the back passenger door to close, indicated and pulled out.
‘Are you now the best of chums then?’
‘Hardly!’ Dylan scoffed. ‘You told me to beat him up. Remember?’
‘Don’t be ridiculous,’ I spluttered, ‘fighting talk is one thing. To actually start a fight is something totally different.’
‘No,’ Dylan furrowed his brow, ‘you pointed out that I was twice the size of Richard Clegg and asked if I couldn’t beat him up?’
‘Well I meant hypothetically. Not literally!’
‘And also,’ Jonas chimed in, ‘you more or less told me the same thing this morning – to get Toby’s plimsolls back and look after Dylan.’
I had a sudden recollection of Jonas pressing an index finger against the side of his nose, telling me he’d caught my drift and to consider it a done deed.
‘Oh terrific,’ I thumped the steering wheel. ‘So what did you both do to Richard Clegg?’
‘It was really cool Mum,’ said Toby. ‘The three of us followed Richard Clegg into the loo at break time–’
‘And then I leant against the door,’ said Dylan, ‘to stop anybody else being able to follow us in–’
‘And I grabbed hold of Richard Clegg’s neck,’ Jonas said cheerfully, ‘and threatened to stick his head down the toilet if he didn’t return Toby’s plimsolls and stop harassing Dylan. He cried like a baby.’
‘Bullies always do when they’re on their own,’ Toby nodded sagely.
‘So all’s well that ends well,’ agreed Dylan.
‘Right,’ I said faintly as the Muck Truck pulled up outside Nell’s house. ‘Well I hope there are no repercussions.’
‘Nah,’ Jonas swaggered, ‘Richard Clegg asked if he could join our gang. Said his last gang was too puny for warfare. We said we’d think about it.’
‘Thank you very much Jonas, but there will be no more talk of gang warfare. The last thing I want is Miss Jenner calling me up and asking for explanations on why I told my children to stick a boy’s head down the toilet.’ That was all I needed. My children would be snatched away before you could say Social Services.
‘Anyway,’ said Dylan, ‘not a word to Mum, eh Cass?’
‘Definitely not,’ I assured. I wasn’t quite sure what Nell would make of her oldest friend organising school terror tactics of which her son was an active member.
That evening Arthur once again joined us for dinner. There was more endless chatter about boat restoration. I found myself discreetly yawning into my steak and kidney pie. How on earth could such a project interest Edna? But clearly it did for her eyes were alight. In fact everything about my mother-in-law seemed to be glowing. And I wasn’t too sure it was just boat conversation thrilling her to bits. The more I studied Arthur and Edna, the more convinced I became that a completely different set of undercurrents were going on.
I didn’t have to wait long for confirmation either. Sometime after Eddie and the children had gone to bed, Jamie and I were watching television when Edna put her head around the living room door.
‘I’m just popping over to Arthur’s,’ Edna said, for all the world as if saying she was just off to Sainsbury’s. Except it was ten o’clock at night. ‘For a nightcap.’
Jamie’s head swivelled and his mouth dropped open. ‘Can’t he have a nightcap here Mum?’
‘No dear,’ said Edna briskly. ‘There are som
e things we want to discuss.’
‘Can’t you discuss them tomorrow?’ Jamie frowned. ‘After all, you spend all day together. Surely you could have discussed whatever it was earlier on?’
‘Jamie dear,’ Edna was now belting up her coat, ‘you are sounding like a parent. Which of course you are. But not mine,’ she patted her coat pocket for her car keys. ‘So don’t wait up. I’ll see you both later.’ And with that my mother-in-law turned on her heel. Not before either of us had copped the small overnight bag she was clasping in one hand. Seconds later, there was the sound of her Micra starting up.
‘Well I’ll be–’
‘Not a word Cassie,’ Jamie grimaced. He leapt to his feet. ‘My God! My mother has just left the house,’ he peered at his wristwatch, ‘in the dead of night–’
‘Oh hardly darling–’
‘To go to another man’s home,’ Jamie raked his hair, ‘and do heaven only knows what. It’s outrageous. She’s seventy-two years old! What on earth is she thinking about?’ he spluttered.
‘Having a nightcap,’ I said. I had a mental picture of Arthur and Edna tucked up in bed together, wearing identical nightcaps and looking like a pair of elves. I batted the vision away. Standing up I pointed the remote control at the television. The screen instantly went black.
‘She’s not coming home!’ Jamie exhorted.
I chucked the remote control on the sofa. ‘Darling, let’s go to bed.’
‘I won’t sleep a wink,’ Jamie began pacing the floor in agitation. ‘What do you think they might do?’
‘Come on,’ I took his hand and led him across the hall. ‘They’ve bought a boat together darling. What did you think they were going to do?’
‘Sail the ruddy thing!’ Jamie gasped.
‘Y-e-s,’ I led my husband up the stairs and across the landing to our bedroom. ‘And when they’ve thrown down the anchor at the end of a day, then what?’ I quietly shut our bedroom door.
Lipstick and Lies Page 18
