The Birthday That Changed Everything

by Debbie Johnson

  Chapter 25

  ‘Have you seen this?’ said Allie, throwing a paperback down on the table in front of me.

  I’d been back at the Blue Bay Hotel for all of twenty minutes and was already at the bar. Allie had a mostly empty bottle of white wine in front of her, so I was guessing she’d been there at least ten minutes longer.

  I picked up the book and glanced at the front.

  ‘Look at the title. And look who wrote it,’ she instructed.

  ‘Shag Yourself Happy by…by…Jane McTavish! Bloody hell! Is that our Miss McTavish?’

  According to the cover, it was a global bestseller – a guaranteed guide to ‘finding your inner goddess through mind-blowing sex’. Jesus. I flicked to the inside blurb, which informed me that Jane McTavish was one of the most respected relationship coaches in the world. She’d written several self-help books before her current multimillion-selling smash hit, and lived in Edinburgh.

  She was also, if you believed the accompanying photo, a drop-dead gorgeous blonde of about thirty-five. Either the art of airbrushing had been elevated to new heights, or Miss McT had wisely decided she’d sell better as a sex guru if she wasn’t known as a wrinkly old gnome.

  I quickly thumbed through the book, reading chapter titles about nudism, loving your own body, and dressing up for role-play. It was like a flashback to the horrors of last year.

  ‘Oh the cow! She’s even got a chapter in here called “The Missing Sock”!’ I said, recalling our conversation about mine and Simon’s sex life. What a nerve – I didn’t even get a credit, and instead the case study was based on ‘Nancy, 40, a nurse’.

  ‘Unbelievable, isn’t it?’ said Allie. ‘And this was the last copy at the airport – everywhere I looked there were women reading it, nodding, and husbands looking more and more twitchy. We were nothing but guinea pigs for the old perve – she’s not back here this year, I asked Tarkan on reception. She only came the once, presumably for research…well, at least you were interesting enough to make it in there. Mike feels quite insulted. You can borrow that if you like – I read it all on the plane.’

  I tucked it into my bag to gag over later. I’d have to send a copy to Diane, with my sections highlighted – she’d be so proud.

  ‘So, what’s been going on with you since we last spoke?’ I asked. As we’d last spoken about a month ago, I was guessing not that much. I had some funny news for her, and I’d resisted the temptation to tell her on the phone – it was so juicy I had to deliver it in person.

  Allie thought for a moment, looked as though she was about to say something important, then shook her head. ‘Nothing much…work, Mike, life…getting Max ready to start at Oxford in October. Promise me you’ll keep an eye on him and make sure he eats something other than Pot Noodles?’

  ‘But of course,’ I replied. ‘At the very least I’ll encourage him to eat different flavours so he gets a balanced diet.’

  ‘Seriously?’ she said, leaning forward and frowning, ‘you will look out for him, won’t you?’

  ‘You know I will, you silly moo!’ I replied. ‘I’ll care for him like he’s my own. Probably better.’

  Allie slid back into her seat, her whole body relaxing. She seemed a bit edgy – probably a combination of the journey, her prospective empty-nest syndrome, and the wine.

  ‘Great. Thank you. So what have you been up to? Apart from sexually harassing James?’

  I giggled, in a way an almost-forty-one-year-old woman really shouldn’t, before I replied.

  ‘Well,’ I said, ‘I did meet Monika the husband-stealer last week…’

  ‘No way! Tell me all! What did she say? Did you pull her hair and hit her with your handbag?’

  ‘She said – and I don’t know if I can get my voice low enough for this: “Hees deek, it dos not dance.” But she said it more scarily.’

  ‘She said what? And does she really sound like a Bond villainess?’ said Allie, sitting forward with excitement.

  ‘She sounds more like a Bond villain, actually. I’d finished work and she ambushed me in the car park, saying we had to talk. I did have a mad few seconds where I considered running her over, but in the end curiosity got the better of me, so we went for a coffee. There’s no way I was taking her back to the house – she might have left with the dog as well.

  ‘Turns out the love match of the decade is falling a bit…floppy. “I am vorried,” she says, “early days, deek always like happy little soldier. Always dancing. Now, ees sad. Vy ees thees? Thees ever happen vith you?” I almost choked on my cappuccino. Unbelievable.’

  ‘What a cheek,’ said Allie, ‘coming to you for sex counselling – maybe we could refer her to Miss McTavish. What did you tell her? And what does she look like?’

  ‘I told her no, it had never happened with us – which is true, but probably only because we hardly ever had sex. He could have had erectile dysfunction for the last six months for all I’d have noticed. Obviously I didn’t add that bit, because I’m a petty-minded bitch and I quite enjoyed seeing her suffer. For a few minutes at least.

  ‘As for what she looks like, well…no getting away from it, she’s young and gorgeous. And…okay, I know this makes me super-pathetic, but I did feel sorry for her. It was obvious she wasn’t quite the money-grabbing little whore I wanted her to be – she seemed to be genuinely devastated about what was going on with her and Simon. Or what was not going on, anyway.’

  ‘So how does it make you feel, then, knowing there’s trouble in paradise?’

  It was a good question. And I admit it. I’d felt a bit smug about the non-dancing-dick thing – technically, he was still my husband…at least for the next month or so. And I’d suspected there was trouble in paradise long before I met her.

  As well as the Christmas-tree thing, he’d just been coming round more. Saying he was there for the kids, but staying for a cup of tea. Even asking if I needed any jobs doing round the house – which in itself was enough to make me wonder if he needed to seek psychiatric help.

  ‘You know, Allie,’ I said, ‘if it’d happened sooner, I might have been pleased. I’d probably have considered giving Mr Floppy the kiss of life to get Simon back. But now…I just don’t know. It’s been over a year. It’s not been easy, but we’ve all survived it. I’ve got used to having the whole bed, and not rinsing his shaving foam out of the sink, and changing light bulbs myself. I’m not saying I’m glad it happened, but I’m okay with it. I’ve moved on.’

  ‘And that moving on would have nothing at all to do with James?’ she asked, immediately seeing through my bravado. ‘Because last time I saw you two together, you were dry-humping him in front of two hundred strangers…I hope that didn’t happen when you met up in London.’

  ‘No,’ I replied, ‘Covent Garden wasn’t ready for that. We just had lunch…and maybe a big snog as well.’

  Allie raised her eyebrows and grinned, pouring another glass of wine for us both. She was hitting it pretty hard by her standards, and it seemed rude to let her drink alone.

  ‘Anyway, it was lovely to see Max when he came to stay in December,’ I said, changing the subject. ‘Lucy’s been unbearable the last few weeks waiting to see him – and she’s got a bit of a surprise for him.’

  ‘Is she pregnant?’

  ‘I bloody well hope not! No, it’s her hair – she’s decided she’s had enough of being Madame Midnight, and she’s gone back to blonde. I know she’s nervous about what Max is going to think – I can tell ’cause she tried to push me down the stairs this morning. With both hands.’

  ‘Oh,’ said Allie. It was a meaningful ‘oh’. As in, ‘Oh – there’s a giant iceberg straight ahead, Captain.’

  ‘What’s the problem?’ I asked, feeling my own throat go dry. If Max was going to chuck her, he could at least have let me know in advance – I’d have brought body armour.

  ‘Here he comes, you can see for yourself…’

  I turned round to see what all the fuss was about, half expecting him to h
ave had a sex change.

  ‘Oh,’ I said. Max – buff, toned and smiling as ever – walked towards us. He’d grown an extra inch and added another instalment on that six pack, from the looks of it. His green eyes were lively, scanning the terrace for Lucy, and he was in his usual outfit – bare chest and surfer shorts.

  The only thing that had really changed, in fact, was his hair. It used to be a gorgeous, glinting auburn brown. It wasn’t that colour any more. It was dyed a shade I was very familiar with – midnight blue-black. And he’d even had his eyebrows done to match.

  Oh indeed.

  Chapter 26

  ‘Hi Max – you look…different,’ I said. And awful, I thought – it really didn’t suit him. On Lucy it had worked in a weird way. It suited her satanic nature. But on Max it was just wrong.

  ‘I know – do you think she’ll like it?’ he said, like an eager puppy dog. ‘Last year she felt like she didn’t fit in and, well, I wanted to show her she does with me…’

  God, he was so sweet, you could make candyfloss from him. Allie and I made eye contact and smiled. Young love at its best.

  Ollie arrived, swigging an energy drink and bopping to his iPod. He sat down and nodded at us all, stopping dead when he saw Max. He pulled out his earphones and stared at him.

  ‘Holy cow, Batman,’ he said, ‘wait till she sees that.’ He shook his head in disbelief and went back to his drink.

  We were all watching for her to emerge from the hotel. I saw Max looking confused as a blonde with Lucy’s slender body and fuck-you-very-much walk headed towards us.

  Lucy stopped in her tracks as she got close enough to see us properly. Hands on hips, eyes narrowed as she zoned in on Max and his jet-black mop-top, she didn’t say a word. He in return gaped at this slightly pissed-off platinum-blonde goddess standing before him.

  Twenty, thirty seconds passed, as they both presumably worked out what was going on, and what their motives had been.

  ‘Fancy a swim?’ she said.

  ‘Yeah!’ he answered, jumping up and running over to her. They walked off hand in hand.

  ‘Phew,’ said Ollie, ‘that could have got nasty. I thought she was going to scalp him with her nail file for a minute. I s’pose it’ll all grow out – he looks really bad with black hair.’

  Allie laughed and poured yet another glass. Ollie looked at the two of us, debated if he was about to get told off for being rude or not, then started fiddling with his iPod.

  ‘Have you been telling Allie about how you got sacked this year, Mum?’ he said innocently, before plugging back in. The little shit. He was just as evil as Lucy, only cleverer.

  ‘Oh yes? You didn’t mention that, Sally! Hang on a minute, here comes Mike – I’m sure he’d want to hear!’

  ‘Hear what?’ said Mike, settling his bear-like body into a chair and leaning back so far I heard the legs creak. His hair was losing its battle against the grey, and I think his beer belly had visited a few new breweries since last year. I knew from my phone chats with Allie that he was considering taking semi-retirement from his engineering business, and presumed he’d started in on his leisure plans already.

  Ironically, it was Allie who was drinking us all under the table just then. I caught his eye as he checked out how much booze Allie had already put away. He gave me a little ‘haven’t got a clue’ shrug.

  ‘Sally got sacked,’ said Allie. ‘She’s just about to tell us all about it, as she neglected to mention it on the phone.’

  ‘Did it involve going into school dressed as a slutty nurse?’ Mike asked, rubbing his hands together and wriggling his bushy eyebrows suggestively.

  ‘No…it’s worse than that. I got sacked for indecently assaulting the lollipop man,’ I said. I could tell from Ollie’s snigger that he could still hear me, even though he was pretending to listen to Led Zeppelin.

  ‘Saucy Sid, we call him. He’s a seventy-two-year-old with severe halitosis, and he’s as randy as a goat. We’ve all suffered at his hands – literally. For years he’s been pinching my arse as we cross the road. You get ready to hop forward whenever you get near him and his giant yellow stick. Don’t ask me why, but when I went back after Easter I’d had enough. I marched straight over and grabbed him by his scrawny geriatric backside instead, and gave him a good squeeze.

  ‘I thought it’d be a bit of a laugh, but he made an official complaint of sexual harassment. There were loads of witnesses and some of them were only four, so there wasn’t much I could do…’

  ‘The lucky bastard,’ said Mike, ‘I wish you’d come and grope me in the workplace, Sal – I’d pay good money for it. So what are you up to now? Massage parlour, is it? Any happy endings?’

  ‘No, Mike, I am currently working as a very respectable doctor’s receptionist.’

  ‘You can’t be – you’re not rude enough. Haven’t they sent you on the training course in how to be obstructive yet?’

  ‘Stop being a wanker, Mike. Some of my best friends are doctors’ receptionists. Go get us some more wine,’ said Allie, putting her feet up on the chair opposite her. For a moment I thought he was going to comment, but he hoisted himself up and ambled to the bar.

  ‘You okay?’ I said cautiously after he’d gone.

  ‘Yeah, why wouldn’t I be? Anyway, I’d have thought that was the last thing on your mind, as I’ve just seen James and Jake arrive.’

  My eyes widened and I jolted upright. He was earlier than I’d expected, and a whole family of butterflies had instantly made their home in my tummy.

  ‘Don’t worry, you look fine,’ said Allie. ‘Gorgeous, in fact.’

  I could have sworn there were tears in her eyes, but I didn’t have time to worry about that right now. Usually it was from laughing at one of my horror stories, anyway – sometimes I felt as if I was put on this planet purely to provide entertainment for my friends and family.

  ‘James! My good fellow!’ bellowed Mike, greeting him with a man-hug and a slap on the back. ‘I see you’re still in rotten shape – have you ever considered getting some exercise?’

  Jake ran over at the speed of light and threw his arms around Allie, then me. I stood him back to get a good look at him.

  ‘Jake! I think you’ve grown about six inches since last summer!’ I said. ‘I bet you’re almost as tall as me!’ I stood up to check, and sure enough he was working his way higher, especially as he was on tiptoes.

  ‘Can I listen to your music?’ he shouted to Ollie. Ollie didn’t break a beat in his toe-tapping, but nodded, patted his lap, and gave Jake one earpiece once he was settled.

  James was standing with his back to us, chatting to Mike at the bar. He was wearing a pair of dark jeans and a black short-sleeved T-shirt. His golden hair was cut slightly shorter than usual. He still had a tan, from a winter work trip to Brazil, and his rear view was as awesome as I remembered it.

  He sensed me watching, or possibly heard me spluttering, and turned round. Our eyes met across a not-so-crowded bar, and his face broke out into a broad smile.

  Mike gave him a shove in the back and he staggered forward a few steps, regaining his balance and walking over to our table.

  ‘Hi, Allie,’ he said, not taking his eyes away from mine.

  ‘Hi, James,’ she said, ‘and bye, James! Husband – come and drink this with me down at the beach!’

  She wouldn’t win any prizes for subtlety, but I appreciated it nonetheless. Even Ollie looked up and said he was going to take Jake to play on the swings, and fifteen-year-old boys are not renowned for their sensitivity. Must be the collection of ‘vintage’ Mills & Boons of mine he’d found in the garage and read voraciously over the summer.

  James stopped just in front of me. Close enough that our fingertips reached out and touched. I was sure if I looked down I’d see sparks. He ran his fingers gently up my bare arm, caressed the side of my neck, and leaned in for a little kiss. It looked polite enough on the surface, but I could practically hear my knees knocking.

  ‘You�
�re doing it again,’ he said.

  ‘What?’

  ‘Looking up at me with those big brown eyes and forcing me to imagine you with no clothes on…’

  ‘And it’s not even via Skype,’ I said, moving forward slightly so I could feel more of his body pressing against mine. Some bits were already more pressing than others.

  He blew out a long breath and hugged me closer, resting his chin on my head.

  ‘I think we might both die if we have another fortnight of this, Sally. Tonight I need to settle Jake in. Tomorrow, my phone-sex friend, is all ours.’

  Chapter 27

  ‘So,’ said Lucy that night at the bar, ‘I think it’s about time we had The Talk. You know, The Sex Talk. Don’t be embarrassed – there comes a time in every mother’s life when she needs to learn about the birds and the bees…’

  ‘What the fuck are you talking about?’ I asked, hackles immediately on alert. She’d eaten dinner with Max, and I hadn’t seen her all day. I wasn’t sure I liked blonde Lucy – she was even more cocky than Goth Lucy.

  ‘I saw you earlier, with James. And pretty disgusting it was too, let me add. But it’s pretty obvious there’s been something going on, and maybe there’ll be a lot more going on this holiday, so—’

  ‘Stop! I’m not listening! I’m not listening! Tra la la la!’ I shouted, holding my hands over my ears in terror.

  Shouldn’t this be the other way round? Okay, so I’d skipped The Sex Talk with Lucy. But that’s because she knew more than I did by the time she was eleven, and looked at me like dog poo the day she figured out I’d ‘let Dad put that thing there’.

  Her mouth had stopped moving. I took my hands away.

  ‘Let’s talk condoms!’ she said immediately.

  ‘Let’s not!’ I replied, looking around for rescue – where the hell was Max when you needed him? She’d probably sent him out to buy me a pack of Durex and a diagram of the human reproductive organs.