by Aimee Horton
Henry is still standing across the room looking horrified. Even worse, Dad has joined him, not even trying to hide the look of disgust on his face.
Idiots.
Mum dashes to Arthur’s side and comforts him. It looks like I’m not going to get any help at all. Sighing loudly, I strip Mabel’s clothes off and go to retrieve some cleaning supplies.
Finally we’re all clean, and sitting back around the table for pudding. Mabel is super excited to be sitting there in just her pants, and Arthur is super excited that it’s chocolate ice cream.
“It’s a shame Arthur threw up your plate,” Mum says to me. “You left your vegetables.”
Henry sniggers, not even trying to hide the humour on his face. So I don’t even try to tell him about the bit of sick I’d seen land in the bottom of his wine glass.
14.
You know you’re not the only one with kids when you get a phone call before nine a.m.
“Dottie, I know you’re on the school run, so call me AS SOON AS you get back,” comes Jane’s voice from the answer machine.
What’s with her?
I’m standing in the hall and peering out the window. Izzy, Penny and the kids are crossing the road to Tina’s house, not stopping to knock for me on the way.
Should I go and find out why?
No. That would be needy. They’re probably just having a chat about something I wasn’t around for. Although that doesn’t explain why Penny ignored my texts asking if she wants a coffee today. I’m beginning to think I’ve done something to upset them all.
Have they found out about the baby monitor? How could they?
Half-heartedly, I go into the kitchen, where George is in his bouncy chair watching TV, and begin to wipe down the counters. As I get to the breakfast bar, I spot the baby monitor. I glance over my shoulder at George, who is too absorbed in Girls Aloud dancing about in their music video to notice. I turn on the monitor.
Just to make sure.
On the other end, somebody is crying. Big shuddering sobs.
“How do you know?” comes Tina’s voice, loud and abrupt.
What’s going on?
The sobs calm down for a minute, and some shushing and quiet mutters that I can’t quite hear, before I hear Izzy’s shaky voice.
“Little things. His clothes smell different. He’s started showering in the day. He thinks I don’t know, but he always changes the water setting to colder than mine.”
She knows.
“That doesn’t mean anything. You’re being ridiculous.” Tina’s dismissive tone instantly gets my heckles up.
“Oh, Izzy, have you spoken to him? Do you have any idea who?” Penny’s voice is soft with concern, and she ignores Tina.
“No. I just don’t know what to do or where to go to find out.” Izzy starts crying again.
Feeling sick, I stare at the monitor. I wish I didn’t know what I did. I feel guilty for covering it up, all because I don’t want to be found out.
It’s not my place to tell her anyway.
I’m about to turn it off, when Tina says, “Well you know, if you DO think he’s having an affair, I bet it’s with Dottie. After all, I told you I stopped her coming here because she seemed a bit too interested in him.”
What?!
“She’s devious. Did I tell you she ordered a massively expensive bathroom without even telling her husband? Plus, what with him being away all the time at work—although I bet he’s not away with work—she must get pretty lonely. And with three kids, it’s not like she keeps her legs shut.”
That bitch!
I carry on listening—not sure I want to hear what they have to say, yet not able to stop myself. Penny jumps in to defend me, but Tina shushes her.
“Don’t think Phil is safe either, Penny. I saw her giving him a kiss the other day,” she snaps.
A kiss on the cheek. A congratulations on the baby!
“Anyway,” Tina quickly changes the subject, “did I tell you? My stupid husband has filed for divorce and is talking about taking the house. Something about wanting his fancy woman and her kid to move in. I told him: ‘If you think you’re moving me from my house and friends and neighbours, you’ve got another thing coming.’ He’s also talking about taking custody of Declan at the weekends. As IF.”
I hear clatters as she bangs about in the kitchen, and I can just imagine Penny looking uncomfortable and Izzy looking sad.
That’s why Penny has stopped hanging out with me, why I’m not being invited for coffee any more. Tina’s made them think I’m some sort of man-eating, husband thief.
I don’t know what to do next. Henry would freak out if I told him I’d been listening again. There is no way I can tell him what I know without confessing the whole thing.
What am I going to do?
I listen as Tina bitches about her ex and his “fancy woman” for a bit longer, unsure what my best move is.
“And his new woman, she has a kid in Declan’s class. I’m not sure what I think of that.” Tina is still going, even though Izzy and Penny are so quiet they might as well not be there.
Jane. I can talk to Jane.
I reach for the phone and stab in Jane’s number, and she answers on the third ring.
“Dottie, have you really re-ordered that bathroom along with a free colour-changing shower?” Jane’s voice is incredulous, if a little out of breath.
“Yes,” I begin. “Look, Jane, I really need to talk to you. Where are you?” I’m not in the mood to talk about the bathroom, the bathroom which will also make Henry freak out.
“I’m cleaning the top of the kitchen cupboards while I wait for an Asda delivery. Why? Do you want to come here? Are you OK?”
“Yes, I’ll come now,” I say, hanging up the phone.
I bundle a protesting George into his car seat and drive straight to Jane’s house. Luckily, it’s close to the school so I can nip and get Mabel when it’s time.
As my car crunches onto Jane’s parents’ drive, she opens the door to her granny annexe. Jane is already scooping George out of the car and cooing over him as I climb out and follow her inside.
“What’s wrong?” she asks, looking at me in a non-judgemental version of the way my mother would.
I burst into tears.
~~~~
We are on our fourth cup of tea. George is asleep on the sofa surrounded by pillows, and Mabel, who Jane nipped out to collect from nursery, is happily playing with Hannah’s old princess dressing-up clothes while we sit around the kitchen table.
I’ve just finished telling her the entire story. Jane hasn’t commented, or really said anything the whole time I’ve been talking.
“And so now I’m here,” I say, finally lifting my eyes to look at my best friend.
“So let me get this straight. You’ve been listening to your neighbours through the baby monitor since you moved in?”
“I’ve been so lonely, Jane. Moving here was hard. The house was a mess. Henry is always away with work, which is great, I mean, he’s doing so well, and we did talk about it when the opportunity came up but… I don’t know. I just wanted to make friends, and they all seemed so unfriendly.” My voice trails off. “Am I an awful person? Do you hate me?”
Jane sighs and pats my hand, then goes to get the biscuit tin. She eats three chocolate digestives before offering me the tin.
How does she stay so thin?
“No, Dots, you’re not an awful person, and I could never hate you. You’re just… you’re just you. And even though you do stupid things—we’ll get onto the bathroom in a minute—I still love you.”
“They offered a good alternative deal, you know,” I mutter, knowing I will have to cancel it.
“Did you say she told the others about the bathroom?” Jane asks, ignoring me.
“Yeah, this morning when she was slagging me off. I promise, that’s the first time I’ve listened since Penny had her baby.”
Jane waves her hands up and down, as if she’s excited.
She’s obviously trying to say something but can’t get the words out.
“What? What is it?”
“Who else knows about the bathroom?” she finally manages.
“Just you and me, and now Tina, Izzy and Penny. Why?”
What’s this got to do with anything, apart from me being an idiot and ordering it?
“Think about it. How did they find out?” Jane is looking at me in frustration, waiting for me to work this out.
What is she on about?
“You mean, how did Tina know to tell Izzy and Penny?” I see where she’s going. “I have no idea. She must have heard it somewhere.” And then it clicks. “Wait. You don’t think SHE can hear US, do you?”
“Duh, how else could she know? She must have been listening the whole time!” Jane is nearly jumping with excitement at her discovery.
Oh my God.
“She did ask about the bathroom the day after we’d ordered it, before I even knew we had. I wonder if she’d heard us get drunk that night?! Oh my God! Do you think she cancelled coffee and started freezing me out after she heard you and me talking about HER?” My voice is getting so high and loud that Mabel stops what she’s doing and comes over.
“What’s your problem, Mummah?” she asks, resting her head on my knee and sneaking a hand towards the biscuit tin.
“Don’t give them to George,” I warn. “As much as he wants them, he’s too little.” She’s gone, back to her princess tea party.
I don’t even notice how many she takes. I’m too busy realising that Tina’s text had come during our hefty slagging off session about her.
“So now what? I can’t believe she’s been listening to me. I feel so dirty.” I wrinkle my nose in disgust at the thought of Tina listening to Henry and me, Jane and me, the kids and me.
Jane raises her eyebrows.
I get her point.
“I know, but I did it to make friends. At least I’m not sleeping with somebody else’s husband.” I pout, then realising what it sounded like, backtrack a bit. “Not you. You’re different. I mean her.”
“I know,” Jane says, rolling her eyes. “I don’t know what to do, Dottie. Perhaps you should buy a new baby monitor and leave it? Penny and Izzy don’t sound stupid. Maybe they’ll work it all out eventually?”
I look at her in disappointment because she’s probably right. It’s the only thing I can do. “You don’t have a wonder-plan then?” I say hopefully. “Come on, Wonder Jane!” I mimic Superman flying, trying not to look desperate.
“I just don’t think it’s worth it,” she says, shaking her head at me.
“But—” I quietly beg.
“It’s too tricky, Dots. If they found out you’d been listening they’d think you’re as bad as her. You wouldn’t even have a chance of redeeming yourself. At least with this, time could fix it.”
I hate it when she’s right.
~~~~
“I thought you were OK with me going away.” Henry flops down on the sofa next to me, bringing me back to the real world.
“Huh? What?” I look up, distracted, and swirl the dregs of my gin and tonic in the bottom of my glass. I drain it, then slam it down on the coffee table.
“Well, I assume that’s why you’re in a mood?” He picks up my glass, heads to the kitchen and returns seconds later with it refilled.
“Thanks.” I take a massive swig. “No, no, it’s not you. Just, you know, a bad day, OK?”
I can’t tell him, so instead I pick up the remote control and browse through the planner, trying to find the latest episode of Breaking Bad.
“Is that why we’ve got a new baby monitor?”
“Oh that. Yeah, I was an idiot.” I recite my carefully practised-on-Jane story. “I knocked it out the window while I was cleaning. Just topped off my day. I was cleaning up projectile poo.” I feel my cheeks flush.
I’m such a rubbish liar, especially to Henry.
“More projectile poo? Is George OK?” Henry looks concerned, the baby monitor thankfully forgotten.
“Yeah, I caught Mabel sneaking him a bit of her soup at tea time,” I say, secretly pleased she did this so I didn’t have to make up yet another lie.
“Did he like it?” Henry smiles, amused by the little anecdotes that sound funny when they’re not actually happening to you. I knock my head against his shoulder, leaving it there as I try to relax.
“Yes.” I smile, thinking of his little chubby face and his gummy lips smacking together, begging for more. “He was pissed off when I gave him a bottle instead.”
“How old is he now? Old enough to wean?”
“Henry Harris! You don’t know how old your own son is?!” I exclaim, trying to work out in my head how old George is. “Not quite old enough yet, but given his reaction, I don’t think we can hold it off much longer.” I feel sad again. I don’t want my baby to grow up this fast.
“So anyway, why else was it so bad? Mabel said you were at Jane’s all day today.”
Bloody Mabel. Can’t keep anything private.
“Yes, no, I mean, it’s great. She’s got this new bloke. She’s really happy. He’s even met Hannah. He’s er, he’s coming to Sunday tea this week if that’s OK?” I glance at Henry to see his reaction. After all, Adam was a part of his life too—best man at each other’s weddings, a comedy duo.
He lets out a whistle. I can tell he’s a bit shocked, but then this has never happened in the five years that Jane and Hannah have been alone.
“That means it’s pretty serious then. Why haven’t we, or at least you, met him before now?” He asks the question I’ve been thinking ever since Jane told me.
“She didn’t want to upset me while I was distracted with everything,” I say quietly. “I’m an awful friend.” I feel tears coming and can’t stop them.
“Hey, hey, what’s up?” Henry holds me close. He strokes my hair for a few minutes, before pushing me back so he can see my face. He looks confused.
“I just… I haven’t been there for Jane, and Penny has gone funny—for whatever reason—and I’ve made you feel bad that you’re going away even though I’m OK with it!”
What I really want to do is tell him the truth. That I’ve been set up to sound like I’m having an affair with my new friend’s husband, and I only know because I heard it through a baby monitor.
“You’re a wally, you know?” Henry passes me my drink. “Jane knows you’re always there for her. And why is Penny being funny? What happened?”
“Oh, I don’t know,” I say truthfully. Slumping back, I’m disheartened as I clutch my drink to my chest. I have no idea what has actually been said to stop me from being invited over to Tina’s. Or, actually what Penny has been told. It must be pretty bad for her to go funny so quickly. I can only guess, and every time I do, the scenario gets worse.
“One day we’re fine, and the next, I get told coffee is cancelled, but they all go over as usual. Then Penny cancels our get-together. She’s ignored me since then.”
“Sod them then,” Henry says, putting his feet up on the coffee table and grabbing the remote control.
He’s rubbish when it comes to “girls’ things.”
Relieved that he’s decided to end the conversation, I let him press “play,” but as Breaking Bad begins, I’m not paying attention. I’m still brooding. Everything had been falling into place, I’d made some friends, and I’d been so excited about the idea of working with Penny—and then it all came to a sudden end.
“Isn’t this episode amazing?” He’s paused the TV and is standing in front of me.
“Yeah, awesome!” I smile up at him. “Are you getting drinks?” I drain my glass and follow him to the kitchen.
I need to know what’s happening right now.
“I’m just nipping to the loo. Will you make me one of my herbal teas?”
I climb the stairs to the en-suite. Locking the door behind me, I pull the baby monitor out from the basket that contains my tampons. Henry won’t touch the basket
with a barge pole.
I turn the tap on and hold the handset up to my ear. Knowing that Tina is out tonight, I flick to Channel B. It’s not her I’m interested in, it’s Penny.
“I just wonder if we’ve been a little unfair on her?” Penny’s voice is muffled and quiet. I hold my breath and listen. “I mean, why would she tell me Dottie fancied you if it wasn’t true?”
What the…?
“I’m not sure, Penny. Dottie didn’t seem like that.” Phil’s response is short, and he sounds tired.
I always liked him—but not like that!
“From what you said, she and Henry are very much in love. She seems genuine to me.”
Thank you!
“I know, but why would Tina lie? Why say Dottie had told her she only wanted to come into business with me so she could get closer to you?” She sounds confused and on the verge of tears.
“Why would Dottie say that to anyone?”
“How would Tina know? Nobody knew we’d discussed going into business together.”
Phil sighs, and I hear the creaking of a bed, which muffles what he says next.
Crap, what did he say?
“I don’t know, Penny, I’m just not sure I trust Tina. Leave it for tonight, OK?”
I hear a click of a light switch, then silence.
I turn off the monitor and flush the loo, then as a last minute thought, I spray some of Henry’s deodorant into the room to cover the “smell” and go back downstairs.
“Tough one to squeeze out?” Henry asks, not even looking up. He’s obviously itching to get back to the programme.
“Something like that,” I say, sitting down. I’m seething at Tina’s lies, but I can’t let him see. “Hey, did you say it was tomorrow you’re away for the night?”
“Yes, but don’t worry, I’ve ironed my shirt and everything.” He’s engrossed in the TV.
“No, it’s just I think I might invite Jane around again.” He’s not really listening, so I reach for my phone and type my dearest friend a mercy message.
