The only trouble was she wasn’t entirely sure how to go about it.
And when she walked past WH Smith and saw the headline on a magazine that shouted out ‘Ten Steps To a New You!’ she picked it up and bought it, because it seemed a good place to start, and after a quick scan of the article so did eyeliner.
‘When I say a clean, darling,’ she told Leila, who had found her Dalmatian ears headband behind a cushion on the sofa and had shoved it unthinkingly on her head at a rather rakish angle, ‘I mean more like … well, a makeover.’
‘A makeover?’ Eloise perked up. ‘I can make you over, Mummy. I know all about makeovers. I’ve got makeover Barbie, plus Nana Pam makes us over all the time.’
‘Yes,’ Leila said. ‘From Orphan Annie to Little Princesses,’ she said as if she were remembering a direct quote, which she no doubt was. ‘Nana Pam said we could always look beautiful if only you put in some effort. Is that what you want to do to yourself, Mummy, put in some effort?’
‘Like Isabelle Jackman’s mum?’ Eloise asked her. ‘She always puts in effort and she’s …’ Eloise trailed off thoughtfully.
‘You could have coloured steaks in your hair,’ Leila said, her eyes widening in awe. ‘And glittery eye shadow, Mummy. I’ve got some of that!’ Leila was poised to race upstairs and retrieve it.
‘No, no, not that kind of makeover either,’ Catherine said hastily, as she envisioned her youngest child tearing her room apart in a bid to locate all of their secret cosmetics stash. ‘Apart from perhaps a bit of eyeliner. More than changing how I look I mean just trying to be a bit different, maybe doing things I wouldn’t normally do, being a bit more adventurous and impulsive.’
‘What’s impulsive?’ Leila asked her begrudgingly, clearly disappointed that she was not going to get to apply the glittery eye shadow.
‘Doing things without thinking,’ Catherine said.
‘Like buying eyeliner?’ Leila asked her dubiously.
‘Well, yes,’ Catherine said, looking at the offending pencil and putting it back in her capacious but barely filled make-up bag.
‘But why?’ Leila asked.
Catherine blinked at her. ‘Because, you know, it’s spring, new plants, new … lambs everywhere, new me.’
‘I like the old you,’ Leila said. ‘I like the you that’s you, Mummy, only I don’t mind if we give up eating so many vegetables and maybe eat more cake. Is cake impulsive? Anyway, Jesus loves you if you wear eyeliner or not.’ Leila thought for a moment. ‘He might actually prefer if you didn’t wear it, though, especially if it’s green.’
‘What I’m trying to explain to you,’ Catherine started again, well aware that it was more herself she was trying to enlighten than her persistently curious five-year-old, ‘is that I’m not changing into a different person, I’m more sort of becoming more like me than I am already. Sort of Mummy, but more so.’
‘Mummy but more vegetables so?’ Leila asked her.
‘No, I just mean that from now on I might wear eyeliner sometimes and perhaps the odd skirt …’
‘That is an odd skirt,’ Leila said, looking at Catherine’s knees.
‘And go out for drinks on a Monday night,’ Eloise said.
Catherine turned to her.
‘Yes, you don’t mind me going out, do you?’
‘Isabelle Jackman’s mum started putting on eyeliner and wearing skirts and going out for drinks,’ Eloise said in a tone of foreboding that made Leila widen her eyes. ‘And now she’s got a boyfriend with a beard. Is that what you’re doing, Mummy, looking for a boyfriend?’
‘Mummy!’ Leila looked scandalised and Catherine wondered how her cack-handed attempts to apply eyeliner had come to this.
‘No, I am not looking for a boyfriend. I am trying out eyeliner. It’s not the same thing at all, Eloise. I mean, look at Kirsty, she always looks nice and … bad example. The thing is, a person can decide to change how they look for other reasons than to get a boyfriend so you don’t have to worry about that at all, ever, OK? I promise.’
‘Mummy,’ Eloise’s tone was slightly chiding, ‘you shouldn’t promise that. One day you might want to have a boyfriend, just like Isabelle Jackman’s mummy, and Daddy might want to have a proper girlfriend that he likes.’
Catherine tried to imagine herself with some unknown unnamed absurdly titled ‘boy’ friend, and for some reason all she could picture was a beard. Was that really what this was about, buying a magazine and some eyeliner? Were these her first few tentative steps to trying to meet someone again? She tried to imagine herself out there, like Kirsty had been for so many months, getting involved with opticians, amongst others, dating and dancing and flirting and chatting, all because of the faint possibility that it might deliver her into the arms of a man who could make her happy. But she found it impossible to imagine. To even comprehend spending time with a man who wasn’t Jimmy – apart from that near-kiss with Marc, which she was determined not to think about at all – and thinking about Jimmy with a proper girlfriend made her feel cross. She put the image out of her head and decided that she wasn’t ready for eyeliner of any shade.
‘Perhaps you’re right,’ Catherine said. ‘I think I’ll stay in tonight after all.’
‘Hooray!’ Leila yelled.
Eloise put her hand on Catherine’s shoulder and looked at her with that unnerving green-eyed stare. ‘I’m ever so proud of you, Mummy,’ she said.
Catherine smiled, and put an arm around Eloise.
‘Are you, darling? I’m glad.’ She considered leaving it at that but the temptation to fish was just too great. ‘Why?’
‘Because even when grown-up things are happening to you, you remember to love us,’ Eloise said. ‘And because you know when not to wear green eyeliner.’
‘Not coming?’ Kirsty groaned, leaning against the door with her arms crossed. ‘But it’s arranged. Alison is coming and this is important. It’s phase two of my plan to reunite you two. We’ve got over the hard bit, we’ve had an intermediate coffee, now you need to get drunk together again and reaffirm your fledgeling bond.’
‘You see, I don’t think inebriation is necessary to get to know a person,’ Catherine said. ‘Unlike you I haven’t based all of my relationships on the consumption of alcohol.’
‘Ouch,’ Kirsty said. ‘And anyway, it’s not true. Not with Sam. When we went round there the other night he was stone-cold sober.’
‘Yes, he was,’ Catherine replied, raising a brow. ‘Look, it’s been a big weekend, a massive one, seeing Alison again, drinking tequila, things finally coming to a head with Jimmy. I need time to readjust and get used to the life I have now. At the moment it doesn’t seem real.’
‘But you and Jimmy were over two years ago,’ Kirsty said. ‘How much readjusting do you need?’
‘Yes, but back then we were over because he cheated on me and I was devastated, and now we’re over because I told him we are and now he’s devastated, which makes me feel …’
‘Devastated too?’ Kirsty chanced.
‘Sad,’ Catherine said, nodding.
‘Well, you are sad,’ Kirsty said. ‘I won’t argue with that. Come on, come down The Goat and celebrate your freedom that you clearly so desperately want.’
Catherine pursed her lips. ‘Another time, but maybe not at The Goat.’
‘But you just said you’re over The Goat. Come on,’ Kirsty encouraged her. ‘It’s been two years – what could be more symbolic of your moving on?’
‘Eyeliner,’ Catherine said. ‘And I’m not ready for that either.’
‘What in God’s name are you talking about?’ Kirsty asked her, peering at her. ‘Did you eat the worm in the tequila bottle? Because you don’t seem like someone who’s just found her best friend and ditched her deadweight husband at all.’
‘Just go out and have a nice time with Alison and cheer her up,’ Catherine said. ‘I really want to stay at home tonight and readjust. That’s what I want. I’m doing what I want.’
&nb
sp; ‘God, you’re selfish,’ Kirsty said. ‘I was hoping to sneak off with Sam after half an hour or so. Now I’ll have to keep an eye on her all night.’
‘Ah, well,’ Catherine said with a cheery smile as she closed the door on Kirsty, ‘that’s what friends are for!’
Chapter Twenty-five
‘SO MARC WAS OK with you going out on the town after you finally split?’ Kirsty asked Alison as she led her into the music bar at The Goat. It was a small space and packed to the rafters with the Monday night crowd who always turned up for the live music. ‘He didn’t expect you to observe a period of mourning, like Catherine seems to think she has to?’
‘He wasn’t there,’ Alison said, having to speak louder as the band struck up. ‘He didn’t come back from the office before I left. I thought about phoning him but then I thought, what if he’s flat hunting or talking to a solicitor or knocking off his secretary? And somehow it doesn’t seem right for me to ask him to come home so that I can go out. Technically I could have left Dominic in charge but after his recent escapades I think he needs someone to be in charge of him. So I asked the neighbour instead. She lent me her au pair, German girl. Very no-nonsense.’
‘How generous,’ Kirsty said loudly, as she waved a ten-pound note at the barman and grinned at him. ‘I hope one day I’ll be rich enough to lend other human beings to people.’
‘You know what I mean,’ Alison said. ‘Anyway, I don’t think I’m going to be rich enough to be borrowing them from people for very long. A three-bedroom semi and some kind of job is what my future holds.’ She smiled and took a gin and tonic from Kirsty, and they made their way through the crowd to the side of the room where they could get a good view of the whole place.
‘So tell me,’ Alison said, leaning close to Kirsty so that she could hear her, ‘I haven’t been on the pull in fifteen years. What do you do these days?’
Kirsty laughed. ‘I see you don’t have to go through a period of readjustment, like some people.’
‘The last sixteen years of my life have been about readjusting,’ Alison said. ‘And probably the next sixteen will be too, but now I want to have some fun.’
‘Well, first of all you scan the room, look for someone you fancy,’ Kirsty instructed her, ‘and then you catch his eye, make sure he knows you are checking him out, and then you go over there and flirt.’
‘You make it sound like falling off a log,’ Alison said sceptically.
‘Well, it is usually a lot easier if you are so drunk that if you were standing on a log you would fall off it,’ Kirsty replied. ‘To be fair, a lot of people think that when a girl gets to a certain age she should start to be a little more reserved and a little less naked. But I say fuck ’em. Now see anything you like?’
Alison trawled the busy room until through a gap in the crowd she glimpsed the back of a man’s head, long hair pulled back into a ponytail, a battered leather jacket on the back of his chair. He looked exactly like Jimmy Ashley from behind. He was the only person in the room who wasn’t facing the small stage.
‘OK,’ she said, target identified. ‘What next?’
‘Make eye contact,’ Kirsty said, looking in the opposite direction for her boyfriend.
‘He’s got his back to me,’ Alison said. Kirsty looked at her.
‘You’ve decided you fancy someone from the back of their head?’ she asked. ‘You’re not fussy, are you?’
‘I’m only practising,’ Alison said.
‘OK, well, go over to where he is standing and make eye contact,’ Kirsty ordered her.
‘You mean just go over and stand in front of him and stare at him until he looks at me? He’ll think I’m a nutter.’
‘You asked me how to pull, not how to become a secret agent,’ Kirsty said. ‘Go on.’
Alison looked at the back of the man’s head. This seemed like a very odd place to come for a quiet drink.
‘What if he’s a serial killer?’ she said.
‘Perfect, then he won’t be too needy,’ Kirsty said, her face lighting up as Sam walked in the door. ‘Now off you go. I’m not buying you another drink until you report back. Think of it as rehabilitation.’
Alison observed the look on Kirsty’s face as Sam crossed the room and kissed her. She wondered if she would ever feel that way about anyone again, or if anyone would ever feel that way about her. Well, every journey started with a single step, even if in this case it was in all likelihood a very ill-advised one. Alison took a breath and began to make her way through the crowd towards the back of the man’s head.
If I get all this way and he turns out to be a woman … she thought to herself as she approached, getting through the thickest part of the crowd and emerging in the near-empty seating area that was strewn with jackets and coats, and where only one person was sitting. Not quite sure how to position herself in order to make eye contact with him (or change her mind and hurriedly make her exit), Alison walked over to the juke box in the corner and pressed a few buttons, realising a little too late that nobody in their right mind would play a juke box when a live band was currently perforating her eardrums. She took a deep breath and turned round, hoping that the man looked a little bit like Jimmy Ashley.
Which was why she had mixed feelings when she found out he actually was Jimmy Ashley.
‘You are not supposed to be here,’ Alison said, just as the band took a break and the room filled with cheering and applause. Jimmy did not look up from his beer mat.
Taking another steadying breath, Alison went and sat opposite him. After a second or two he looked up.
‘Oh, hi,’ he said miserably. ‘Great band, right? Really good, really … young.’
‘Why are you here?’ Alison asked him. ‘Catherine said you’d gone to London.’
‘I did, got there last night. There was no session work, but a mate tipped me off about something else and I went to an audition this morning.’ Jimmy sighed. ‘I got the job.’
‘Jimmy, that’s fantastic,’ Alison said, reaching out and impulsively covering his hand with her own.
‘It’s with this gothic rock band my mate knows,’ Jimmy said desolately. ‘Their guitarist accidentally cut off his thumb during a fake satanic ritual. They picked it up and managed to sew it back on but he’ll be out for weeks and they’ve got a tour coming up. The stuff they play is pretty basic, so I picked it up quick. They said with some black eyeliner and hair dye I’d be perfect. Oh, yeah, and I’ve got to straighten my hair too, because apparently the minions of hell don’t have a natural curl.’
‘Wow, that is exciting,’ Alison said, struggling to keep up her enthusiasm when his misery was like a huge gaping chasm that sucked all the joy from the room. ‘What are they called?’
‘Skull Incursion,’ Jimmy said dolefully. ‘Shit name.’
‘I’ve heard of them!’ Alison said excitedly. ‘Dom likes them … they’re awful.’
‘I know,’ Jimmy said. ‘But it’s not for ever. Just while they are touring and this guy’s thumb-graft takes. But it’s good money and eight weeks’ work while they’re on tour.’
‘On tour,’ Alison said, ‘with a band. That’s cool, right?’
‘In Croatia,’ Jimmy added. ‘Skull Incursion are big in Croatia.’
‘Oh,’ Alison said, desperately wishing she had ordered another drink before she came over here. ‘I hear it’s lovely out there in the spring.’
‘Well, it probably is, but Skull Incursion don’t play in direct sunlight. It contravenes vampire health and safety in the workplace regulations. Anyway, the flight leaves at five o’clock in the morning.’
‘Tomorrow?’ Alison looked at her watch. ‘Then why are you here?’
‘I came to say goodbye to Cat and the girls,’ Jimmy said. ‘Couldn’t just go without saying goodbye to them.’
Alison looked at her watch. ‘OK, so why are you in the pub?’
‘I thought I’d revisit the scene of my downfall, first,’ Jimmy said. ‘The place where I fucked up so badly
that one day I’d be taking a nocturnal tour with a bunch of faux vampires. I had a couple of pints and now … now I don’t think I can see her. She’ll just be all beautiful and amazing and not in love with me, and when I tell her I’m going away for eight weeks she’ll be really supportive and pleased for me and I don’t want her to be. I want her to fling her arms around me and say, don’t go, Jim, don’t go because I love you and I can’t live without you no matter how well you get paid for dyeing your hair black and wearing a pair of fangs.’
Alison couldn’t help but smile at him. He was even sexy when he was being all miserable over another woman.
‘Jimmy, just go and see her,’ she told him. ‘If you don’t you’ll regret it.’
‘There’s hours yet. Buy me a drink first,’ Jimmy said, looking at her directly for the first time, which made Alison sit back a little in her chair.
‘OK then,’ she said slowly as Jimmy watched her. ‘I will. Back in a minute.’
‘Two Jack Daniel’s and Coke, please,’ Alison shouted across the bar as the band began their second set.
Kirsty appeared at her side and clapped her on the back. ‘I must say I didn’t think you’d actually go through with it,’ she said admiringly in Alison’s ear as she picked up a drink. ‘Thanks for this. I don’t normally drink whiskey but –’
‘Ah, that’s not for you,’ Alison said. ‘It’s for the man I pulled, who is not a man, but Jimmy Ashley. He’s here in Farmington incognito and he needs someone to talk to before he goes round to see Cathy.’
Kirsty narrowed her eyes. ‘Are you going to offer him sex again?’
‘No, I am not,’ Alison stated firmly. ‘Even if I do really fancy him, and I’m fairly sure he’d go for it because he’s depressed and confused and a bit drunk. But I do have some standards, and taking advantage of a vulnerable man for his body is not one of them. Besides, I ruled him out when Cathy and I called a truce. I’m not going to make that mistake again.’
The Accidental Wife Page 37
