Mum in the Middle

by Jane Wenham-Jones

  Ben, his mouth full, made a disparaging noise in his throat. ‘You can talk,’ he said good-naturedly, when he’d swallowed. ‘Bet you’re back on the cake and chips by tomorrow latest.’

  I frowned. ‘Stop it you two. Tilly, why don’t you have some chicken with that?’

  ‘Or would you like some of this pasta?’ Sam offered her the bowl.

  My daughter glared at her brother and shook her head at Sam. ‘Can’t. I need to lose weight before I start the new run. I’m doing high protein and veg only.’

  ‘Till someone opens the biscuits …’ Ben said, and he and Oliver both laughed. Their sister scowled.

  ‘You look great as you are,’ Gabriel said gallantly, and suddenly she smiled, looking unusually bashful. I wondered how far their relationship had progressed. It would be nice if they got together. If my daughter could be happy and settled like Oliver and Sam …

  I watched as Oliver put a hand on Sam’s arm. I felt fiercely protective of the teeny prawn-baby growing there across the table. I pictured tiny curling fingers and toes. We’d agreed to keep the news in the family for a few more weeks but I couldn’t wait to start buying things.

  ‘You all right, Mumsie?’ Ben looked quizzically at me between munches. ‘Your face has gone wonky.’

  I jolted back to the present and looked around at the various plates.

  ‘What can I pass you now, Malcolm?’ I said, proffering more gravy

  He shook his head. ‘Not a thing. I am enjoying this wonderful pie.’ He shook his head. ‘A rarity indeed. A beauty who can cook!’

  For once he seemed to be serious. Ben made a come-off-it-mate face as I felt myself flush at the compliment.

  Malcolm did look surprisingly content. I gestured to Oliver to top up the wine, but Malcolm covered his glass. ‘I’ll just drink this one slowly. Not supposed to do it at all.’ He pulled a face. ‘That’s the trouble with the medical profession. Anything remotely agreeable, they ban it.’

  ‘Would you like some of this elderflower cordial?’ Sam asked kindly.

  Malcolm looked askance. ‘It’s not quite got that bad.’

  Sam giggled. She had a bit more colour now. Although she wasn’t eating much. Probably afraid my pesto was rancid and she’d end up with twins.

  ‘Are you okay?’ I mouthed at her.

  She nodded. ‘This is lovely, Tess.’

  ‘Splendid!’ Malcolm beamed around the table.

  Ben was still talking about breakfast. ‘I didn’t want to risk dragging my poor body down the town and then finding there was nowhere open on a Sunday …’

  ‘Your instincts were half-right,’ Malcolm told him. ‘Stan’s is closed on a Sunday – a situation I would be attempting to rectify if I lived in town and it affected me in the slightest – but the second-best breakfast in Northstone is available …’ They fell to discussing the attributes of the ideal greasy spoon, with Ben putting up a case for hash browns and ‘non-flobby’ eggs, Oliver for crispy bacon, and Gabriel chiming in about fresh orange juice and proper coffee. ‘Don’t start coming over all American,’ growled Malcolm.

  Tilly raised her eyebrows. ‘He is half …’

  ‘Pah,’ said Malcolm. ‘It’s got to be butter on the toast – I won’t patronise a place that serves that margarine muck – and sausages with meat in them, not the sawdust sweepings from the floor.’

  He turned to me. ‘If you want a proper start to the day, I’ll introduce you to the pleasures of Stan’s one morning this week. I want to talk to you about writing something for me.’

  ‘Me?’ I squeaked. ‘I can’t …’

  ‘You can’t be any worse than the twerp they sent me this week. English graduate! Could barely write his own name–’

  ‘Work experience,’ explained Gabriel. ‘He was–’

  ‘Going to be the next John Pilger – came over all concerned about “inequality”, Malcolm shook his head in disgust. ‘If there wasn’t inequality, there’d be bugger all news.’

  ‘You can always supply the content and let Golden Boy here write it up for you,’ he continued. ‘We’re going to start a series of debates on local issues with different people putting their point of view. You can be our newcomer. I might ask your neighbour too. Pit her against Ingrid. Might as well make some use of the annoying woman–’

  I wasn’t sure which one of them he was referring to as the irritant – Ingrid most likely – but decided, knowing Malcolm, it could be both. ‘I don’t know–’ I began.

  ‘We’ll discuss it over double eggs. And mushrooms!’ he added, with a gleam in his eye. ‘They’re important.’

  He took another roast potato. ‘Wednesday.’

  The light was fading by the time we’d moved into the sitting room and I was offering around the mint thins. ‘I don’t think I could,’ said Malcolm, taking one. ‘Superb lemon tart. I really shouldn’t have had the ice-cream too–’ he rubbed his stomach. ‘But all absolutely magnificent, my dear.’ He put his coffee cup down and stood up. ‘Now, I must be off.’

  He shook hands with Ben and Oliver, and gave Sam a crooked smile. ‘You want to feed her more,’ he told Oliver. ‘She’s looking a bit peaky.’

  He rested his eyes on Gabriel. ‘Do you need taking somewhere?’ he said gruffly. Tilly was coming through from the kitchen; I saw her eyes flick towards him.

  ‘No, I’ll walk, thanks,’ Gabriel gave an easy smile. ‘It’s a lovely evening.’

  ‘Nice to see you again!’ Tilly gave Malcolm a kiss and settled herself on the arm of the sofa next to Gabriel, leaving Malcolm looking comically surprised.

  I followed him to the door. The air was soft and a new moon was hovering over the dark outlines of the trees framing the rectory. There was one small light on downstairs.

  Malcolm stopped and faced me and seemed to hesitate. I gave him a hug and he clasped me back. ‘You must come again soon,’ I said, filled with affection for him and all of them, thinking how relaxed I was, and how good it felt, after all, to have friends and family around ….

  ‘I’ll see you for breakfast,’ Malcolm replied.

  ‘I’ll look forward to it …’ I smiled at him thinking how much I really would.

  And then over his shoulder I saw the car draw up, and my warm, happy feelings dried instantly into a hard lump below my ribcage.

  I fixed my eyes back on Malcolm’s and shut the door the moment he’d turned to wave from the drive. ‘Could you put the blue wheelie on the pavement for me?’ I asked Ben, hurriedly shutting the curtains.

  ‘You all right, Mum?’ Oliver was looking at me.

  ‘I’ve just remembered it’s bin day.’

  I gathered up Malcolm’s empty cup and my wine glass and went through to the kitchen.

  I heard Ben complaining he had bare feet, Gabriel offering to go outside for him, Tilly telling her brother he was the laziest little gimp she’d ever known, Oliver saying something to Sam about getting to bed.

  For a faint moment I had hoped.

  But nobody had rung at my doorbell. There was no text on my phone.

  It wasn’t that I cared if Jinni and David were having a fling – they were probably well-suited. It was the way they were going about it. The manner in which David had abruptly dropped me even as a friend, or business colleague. It wasn’t as if anything had happened between us.

  And why did Jinni pretend? That tosser son...

  I threw back the last mouthful of red wine from my glass and dumped the crockery down hard. It wasn’t that I cared at all, but why treat me like an idiot?

  Because you are one, I told myself bitterly. You are a total tool.

  Chapter 27

  I woke at half-past six, to the sound of footsteps thundering up and down the stairs and the dulcet tones of my daughter resounding from the landing. ‘Will you get out of that fucking shower room!’

  I staggered onto the landing. ‘Tilly!’

  My daughter was wearing a long t-shirt and a furious expression. ‘I’ve just found out we’ve got
a rehearsal today – I thought it was Wednesday. I’ve got to get the train with Oliver and Sam, and Ben – who’s got fuck all to do apart from lie in bed all day – is clogging up the–’

  ‘Go in my en suite.’

  ‘I wanted a proper shower. Yours needs descaling.’

  ‘Have a stand-up wash in the bath. Or just be quick!’

  ‘He’s a bloody liability.’

  I sighed as Tilly flounced past me into my bedroom and I headed for the loo downstairs, grateful the previous owners had been firm believers in facilities, even if the bloody thing was still temperamental. Sam was in there so I put the kettle on.

  ‘You okay, Mum?’ Oliver looked as tired as I felt. ‘Sorry if we woke you.’

  ‘It wasn’t you.’ I yawned. I’d had a restless night waking out of peculiar dreams every couple of hours, feeling hot and disturbed. I told myself it was the rich food and too many glasses of red, but I knew at least one of the dreams had been about David. I smiled wearily at Sam as she appeared in the kitchen, also looking washed-out but dressed for work.

  ‘Sorry,’ she said.

  ‘No problem.’ The loo was making that gurgling noise again.

  ‘Mum, we’ve got to go!’ Oliver’s voice came through the door as I was washing my hands. ‘Tell Tilly we can’t wait – she’ll have to get the next one …’

  ‘Okay!’

  I heard feet hammering down the stairs. ‘I’m nearly ready!’

  ‘We’re going to start walking!’

  I could hear Tilly swearing, then more hammering. This time on the front door.

  ‘ANSWER IT IN CASE IT’S THE PLUMBER,’ I screeched, as the swirling water in front of me rose almost to the top of the bowl.

  I emerged as Tilly, hair still damp, had got there. Jinni burst in as Oliver and Sam hurried out. She also looked as if she’d just got up. Her hair was a wild tangle around her make-up-less face.

  ‘Oh my God, Tess, I don’t fucking believe it!’ Jinni shook her head wildly at me as Tilly shoved her feet into trainers, still doing up buttons on her shirt.

  ‘Mum, have you got a fiver so I can get a coffee. I’ll pay you back tonight.’

  ‘I don’t know. I need cash too.’ I looked at Jinni, thinking how little I cared. A row with David? Another leaflet from Ingrid through the door?

  ‘Fuckers.’ Jinni was pacing back and forth across the floor.

  ‘Can I look?’ Tilly was holding up my purse.

  ‘What about your ticket?’

  ‘I’ll put it on my card.’ Tilly waved a note at me. ‘Give it to you later.’

  She shot out of the door, calling to Jinni she’d see her soon.

  ‘Now what?’ I said shortly, tired of everyone’s dramas and just wanting to get under the shower myself.

  ‘Look at the front of your house! All over the new paint. It’s going to be an absolute bastard to clean off.’

  My heart thumped. I followed her numbly outside and looked back at my house. A sticky yellowy-brown porridgey substance was splattered high across the dark grey bricks and had already set in hard streaks down the front door. Blobs clung to the downstairs window, where nobody had yet opened the curtains. My kids had clearly all rushed down the path without a backward glance.

  ‘Flour and eggs,’ said Jinni grimly.

  I felt sick. ‘Who would do this to me?’

  Jinni snorted. ‘Well, I wonder! And so soon after I see Ingrid here!’

  I stared back, mind whirring. ‘No–’

  ‘Well, it’s a bit strange, don’t you think? This should happen so soon after I wound her up about the tree? I expect she went straight home and told that wanker David and he sent one of his lackeys round. I know YOU think he’s wonderful but I told you–’

  What? ‘Hang on a minute, why the fuck would they do it to MY house because YOU wound them up?’ I said furiously. ‘And don’t treat me like a bloody cretin. I know you and he are–’

  ‘What?’ Jinni’s eyes were hard.

  ‘Seeing each other.’

  ‘Are you mad? Whatever gave you that idea?’

  ‘His car outside your house? Tilly said you were talking to him. And then last night–’

  Jinni was looking at me as if I were crazed. ‘He said he was going to see you,’ she interrupted. ‘He said we should make a bit more of an effort to get on. As you and he were “friends” now. I knew he was only smarming around me because his tosser mate’s just put in the next set of plans for over the back. So I told him to sling his hook. We talked for about two minutes! I had a train to catch!’ She stared at me some more. ‘Why, what did you think?’

  ‘Well, he didn’t come to see me, and then his car was still there, and he wasn’t in it, and you said you were going away for the weekend–’

  ‘Not with him!’ Jinni frowned. ‘Are you kidding?’

  ‘His car was still there for quite a while …’

  ‘He was probably casing the joint, once he’d seen me go.’

  ‘No, you were still there, you spoke to Tilly–’

  Jinni shook her head impatiently. ‘Well, perhaps he’d gone to see someone else, then. The dark-haired bird – I don’t know where she lives–’

  ‘Who?’

  ‘One of the many females he hangs out with – youngish – in her thirties. I’ve seen her with Ingrid. He gets around, Tess!’

  I stared back at her, feeling sicker than ever. I had no right to feel jealous – nothing had happened between us yet I’d allowed myself to imagine …

  ‘You can’t seriously think–’ She shook her head again. ‘I can’t stand him! This is some sort of joke, right?’

  ‘No,’ I said, embarrassed. I sounded paranoid now too. ‘I just thought – because you said to Tilly you were on a promise …’

  Jinni’s face still said I was unhinged.

  ‘Caroline told me! I said hotly. ‘You know, that you and David–’

  ‘Oh,’ Jinni said flatly. ‘That was nice of her.’ There was a silence. Then she took a deep breath and looked directly at me. ‘Yes, we screwed,’ she said. ‘A long time ago, when I first moved here. We were both drunk and it was a mistake. So, we’ve not done it again. Nor would I.’

  She took a step towards me. ‘You do believe me, don’t you?’

  I nodded dumbly, my solar plexus still in a tight ball at the thought of the dark girl in her thirties. I’d asked him. He said there was no one …

  ‘I’m sorry I didn’t tell you before, but really – I can barely remember it.’ Jinni paused. ‘I’ve not seen him or heard from him since that weekend you’re talking about.’

  ‘Neither have I.’

  I told her about the abrupt text turning down a drink and how he’d been away when she was. ‘Caroline wouldn’t have told me otherwise.’

  ‘I went to stay with friends from drama school and a load of us went out to dinner,’ Jinni explained. ‘Including a one-time boyfriend who’d just split up with his wife.’ She pulled a face. ‘And now I’ve seen him again, I can understand why.’ She laughed. And then I did this interminable voice-over, which I told Tilly about. Which ended up going into a third day …’ She stopped. ‘David didn’t come into it.’

  ‘And then I thought I saw a man at your window,’ I said dully.

  ‘Ah.’ Jinni suddenly grinned. ‘That would have been Craig. My friendly tree-feller. His wife has left him too. But in this case, her loss is my gain. Not much of a conversationalist but lots of stamina. It’s why I’ve been somewhat, preoccupied, you might say …’ She grinned a bit more. ‘Sorry about that. I probably won’t see him much now he’s finished the job, because he’s moving away when they’ve sold the house. But he filled a gap, as it were.’ She laughed. ‘I was getting a bit desperate.’

  She was abruptly straight-faced again. ‘So no, I have not been up to anything with David. He’s pretty disturbed if he comes telling me you’re friends, when he’s already dumped you!’ She snorted. ‘Look, Tess – he doesn’t hang around anyone for very lon
g–’

  I winced. ‘Well, there was nothing to dump, really. We’d only seen each other a couple of times – as friends …’

  ‘With friends like that …’

  ‘He didn’t do this.’ I looked back at my facade. A fragment of eggshell clung to the curved bricks around the door. As I said it, I pictured David’s car drawing up across the road as I’d said goodbye to Malcolm.

  Jinni was still in full flow about calling Gabriel and the possibilities for revenge. ‘We’ll see how the wanker likes it when there’s an omelette all over his Porsche.’

  My mobile vibrated in my dressing pocket. I pulled it out and looked at the screen. My stomach turned over.

  ‘I’ve got to have a shower,’ I said. ‘I’m supposed to be working.’

  She nodded. ‘I’ll get some wire brushes and help you clean this off before it gets any harder.’

  Back inside, I stared at the text message again in disbelief.

  ‘Hello Gorgeous. When we going to have that drink? X’

  Chapter 28

  ‘Bastard!’

  I wasn’t going to send it but it was cathartic to let the rage rattle down my fingers. How bloody dare he!

  Have the gall to bugger off for the weekend when we were supposed to be having a drink.

  Ignore my email.

  Make me behave like a complete prat by lurking outside Jinni’s house and not coming to see me.

  And then – most heinous of all – fraternise with a woman in her thirties when I was 47!

  ‘Smug, supercilious, eyebrow-dyer’ I added therapeutically, while my mind was racing. Why hadn’t I told Jinni he’d been outside last night? And why was he there, unless Jinni was right and he really was the phantom egg-thrower. I jabbed at the buttons in frustration. None of it made sense.

  Oh shit! I had hit send.

  I looked at the small screen in horror.

  Suppose he forwarded it to all his friends? And it went viral? Suppose he told Shane from the theatre, who then told my daughter, who would then think I was mad? Making a mental note to keep a running check on my paranoid tendencies in case I needed some sort of behavioural therapy, I threw the phone down. It rang immediately.