Hubble Bubble

by Christina Jones

  Mitzi raised her eyebrows. Tarnia’s toy boy? Surely not – he was far, far too good to be wasted on the Botox Queen. Not as handsome as Joel Earnshaw, of course, but gorgeous nonetheless.

  Tarnia had shimmied across to the newcomer and was clenching and unclenching her gilded claws in the sleeve of his leather jacket with the same sort of kittenish rampant delight as Richard and Judy displayed.

  ‘All ready?’ She batted the false eyelashes up at him causing a minor hurricane. ‘No probs?’

  ‘None at all.’ He looked more scared than adoring. ‘Everything’s in place. So we’ll be ready to go when your guests arrive, Mrs Snepps.’

  Not a lover then, unless they were playing Lady Chatterley.

  Tarnia, still fluttering, suddenly remembered that they weren’t alone.

  ‘Ah, Mitzi,’ she was practically dragging him across the hall. ‘Allow me to introduce you to my personal pyrotechnician. This is Guy Devlin from The Gunpowder Plot. He’s planned my firework display for tonight’s party: an hour’s extravaganza – colour co-ordinated, choreographed, music-scored – one of the biggest in the area, isn’t that right, Guy?’

  Guy Devlin gave Mitzi a sympathetic smile and nodded again.

  The Gunpowder Plot. Of course. Tarnia would have to employ the biggest fireworks maker and pyro-party-organiser in the south of England, wouldn’t she? Tonight’s display must have cost Tarnia and Snotty Mark thousands and thousands and thousands. And no doubt there were caterers in doing the barbecue. And waiters handing out vintage champagne. And a lot of hand-picked strangers feeling bored and being party-polite to one another.

  It made the impending Hazy Hassocks village get-together – with their fireworks selection box purchased item by item over the recent weeks from Molly Coddle’s Stargazer shop in Bagley-cum-Russett, and potatoes cooked in the embers of the bonfire, and more of Clyde’s homebrew – seem suddenly cosy and friendly and very desirable.

  Mitzi headed towards the door. ‘Lovely to meet you, Mr Devlin. Tarnia, I’ll be in touch about the hall – but thanks for agreeing. Let me know when the paperwork is drawn up. Oh, and enjoy your party.’

  ‘Yes – yes … and you.’

  Oh, I will, Mitzi thought, as she snuggled inside her coat and hurried down the drive. Believe me, I will. And I can’t wait to see what other surprises tonight can spring on me.

  Chapter Fifteen

  It was probably far too soon, Doll thought, stretching out in bed in the mellow darkness.

  The fluorescent flashes from outside the bungalow’s bedroom window indicated that individual Hazy Hassocks fireworks parties were well underway. And they’d have to get up shortly and join in the communal jamboree on the village green. But not just yet.

  She rubbed a slender bare foot along Brett’s leg. ‘Are you asleep?’

  ‘No … Just shattered … Leave me alone …’

  She giggled. These afternoon-delight sessions had rejuvenated their relationship. But it was more than just sex. As she’d tried to explain to Lu, it was taking time to talk, to laugh, to rediscover one another. To spend time together, sharing stuff, making an effort, falling in love all over again. It simply meant bothering.

  It had nothing at all to do with the Wishes Come True shenanigans.

  She rolled across the bed and kissed Brett’s shoulder. ‘I’m going to grab a shower, then we really ought to put in an appearance on the village green.’

  ‘Yeah, fine,’ he smiled sleepily at her. ‘But I’ll probably fall asleep in my jacket potato. I’ve got to be up for work at four – as always.’

  Sliding her white towelling dressing gown over her naked body, Doll paused in the doorway and looked at Brett. She really loved him. She always had. She’d just taken it all for granted. They both had.

  For twenty-five years they’d shared these village activities; first as children, then school friends, then as teenage sweethearts and finally as lovers. Twenty-five years. Her parents’ marriage had only lasted that long – and she and Brett hadn’t even started on that yet. They still had decades together. It reassured her to think they’d share the rest of a lifetime. They could so easily have thrown it all away.

  ‘We won’t stay long. Promise. I just love the village fireworks. And we’ve been going to them ever since we were kids, haven’t we?’

  Brett, propping himself up on the rumpled pillows, grinned. ‘Yeah. Scary thought. An entire lifetime. And nothing much changes, does it? They still buy the fireworks from Molly Coddle, the vicar still gets overexcited and lets off too many at once, Clyde Spraggs still provides mulled wine that boils your mouth off, the jacket potatoes are always cremated. And everyone gets frozen feet and roasted faces and say they’ll never do it again.’

  They laughed together.

  ‘You are happy, aren’t you?’ Doll asked. ‘You don’t want things to change?’

  ‘Sweetheart, life is perfect. I know we’ve been through a rocky patch – but that’s behind us now, isn’t it? This is – well – like we used to be, and I have no intention of letting it slip back.’ Brett reluctantly hauled himself out of bed. ‘Shall I make a drink while you’re in the shower? Tea? Coffee? Or would you prefer a glass of wine?’

  Doll shook her head. ‘Nothing for me, thanks. You have one, though.’

  ‘Are you okay? You’ve been off-colour since—’

  ‘Last Friday.’ Doll laughed heading for the bathroom. ‘Like the majority of the village. My mother is obviously in danger of turning into Lucretia Borgia.’

  The bathroom, like the rest of the bungalow, had undergone a small but miraculous transformation. Not only had the heating system been revamped so that it was always cosy, but they had daringly added a few splashes of colour.

  True, the mainstay of the decor throughout was still very beige, but each room had been lifted by the addition of candles and flowers and a few softening ornamental touches in vivid primary or citrus tones. In the bathroom it was acid lemon and lime fluffy towels; the bedroom now had turquoise cushions and purple lampshades; the hall had been enlivened with hot pink, and the living room zinged with crimson rugs and cushions.

  While the bungalow was still clinically neat and anti-septically spotless, Doll felt the warmth and new life in their relationship was now echoed in their home. She loved it.

  Turning on the shower, waiting for it to heat up, Doll examined her reflection in the mirror. She looked pale. Her eyes were dark-shadowed. And Brett was right, she really hadn’t felt 100 per cent since the Halloween party.

  It was still too soon.

  She stepped into the steaming shower. It was too soon, wasn’t it? No, damn it.

  Stepping out again, making sure the door was locked, and with strangely unsteady hands, she rummaged to the back of the bathroom cabinet and pulled out the narrow blue and white box.

  ‘I’m not sure that I should like Guy Fawkes night!’ Lulu shouted in Shay’s ear as they stood in a huddle of Hazy Hassocks villagers on the green waiting for the bonfire to be ignited. ‘I mean, I do like it because it’s exciting and pretty and traditional and reminds me of being a kid – but I always feel so sorry for the animals. Poor things. They must be so scared. And the fireworks seem to get louder every year.’

  Several rockets from the Bath Road Estate screamed their blazing trails across the sky to illustrate the point.

  Shay, muffled in a scruffy, chunky knit, black sweater and faded, torn Levis, nodded. ‘And when I’m on November the fifth duty I always wonder how many kids with sparklers rammed up their noses I’ll be rushing into A&E. But then again I wouldn’t like to join the killjoys and ban it.’

  ‘Me neither,’ Lu said happily, thinking that he truly was the most devastating man she’d ever set eyes on, and that, after that shaky start on Halloween, Granny Westward’s apple magic was sooo cool.

  Okay, so this wasn’t a date as such, but it was a huge step forward from chatting as they passed on their neighbouring doorsteps, or when she was queuing at the bus stop, or wait
ing to be served in The Faery Glen.

  Shay had called round an hour earlier, saying that Lav and Lob hadn’t returned from the village hall meeting and would they be okay, oh, and was Lu going to the firework party? Making sure that Richard and Judy were snug in the washing basket, the cat flap locked, the radio on to block the worst of the noise, Lu had grabbed her Afghan and been on the front path in a nanosecond.

  Assuring him that Mitzi was still at the village hall too and that Lav and Lob would be fine and everyone would fetch up at the bonfire before long, they’d joined the groups of well-wrapped-up people all heading towards the green.

  There was a lull in the detonations, so she smiled at him. There was a lot of ground to cover. ‘I love all this continuity stuff, don’t you? The security of having your friends and family round you. Knowing that each year the same people will be doing the same thing at the same time. Like tonight, and winter nights, and Christmas, and Easter, and summer evenings, and … well, all of it.’

  ‘Is that why you’ve never wanted to leave the village?’

  She nodded. ‘Guess so. I won’t be living at Mum’s for ever, of course. But I’ll still look for somewhere to rent in Hazy Hassocks. Well, if I can ever afford anywhere on my wages … I could never see the point of moving out of the area when everything I wanted was here. Although I did live in Winterbrook for a while – but that’s only five miles away, hardly the other side of the world.’

  ‘Mmmm. Lav and Lob told me about all that … oh, thanks …’ Shay broke off to take two Pyrex beakers from a tray carried by Flo. ‘Is it mulled wine?’

  Flo grinned. ‘Ah, you could say. Sprout and turnip with a touch of juniper berry. And a few spices. Boiled.’

  ‘It’s traditional,’ Lu assured him, taking her beaker as Flo trotted away to inflict the wine in the next group. ‘Clyde always makes it for the bonfire. So, what about you? Are you a world-weary traveller?’

  ‘Very much so,’ Shay sipped the wine. ‘God Almighty!’

  ‘An acquired taste.’ Lulu grinned, wondering if mopping the front of his sweater would be a move too far too soon and deciding it wouldn’t. She mopped quickly with her bunched-up mittens, fighting the urge to run her fingers along his ribs and across his abs and … she swallowed and snatched her hand away. ‘And the beakers do tend to hold the heat.’

  Shay laughed. He had a lovely laugh. And fabulous eyes. And the best body in the world. And Heath Ledger shaggy streaky hair. And a pale sexy mouth. And – oooooh.

  Lulu’s toes curled inside her tartan DMs.

  She swallowed again. ‘So, go on, you were telling me about your round-the-world travels.’

  ‘I’m not sure I’ll ever speak again.’ He looked down at his beaker. ‘Maybe I’ll leave this to cool – if it ever does … And thanks for the rubdown … Right, yeah, I was an army brat. Always on the move. Dad had umpteen different postings; I went to umpteen different schools; we never put down roots; I never had any lasting friendships. I’d lived in seven countries by the time I left school. Then when he came out of the army, he and Mum went back to his home town in the Ring of Kerry – but Mum hated it. Couldn’t settle. They divorced. He’s still there. She’s in London. They’re both happy with new partners.’

  Wow, Lu thought, nodding. A potted history. And it explained a lot.

  ‘And the paramedic thing? Was that a lifetime ambition or something you drifted into?’

  ‘When I eventually grew up, yes. I was a bass guitarist in a very heavy metal band during and for a while after university. We went pro for a while and did some really wild stuff.’

  Wow, Lu thought. She could just see him: swaying sexily with his Rickenbacker in smoky spotlights, throbbing out the driving beat, his hair flowing, his body encased in skin-tight ripped denim and little else.

  ‘I wish I could have seen you then. Did you have groupies?’

  ‘Millions. It was an ace time.’ Shay bravely took a sip of his mulled wine. ‘But it couldn’t last. We were going too crazy and I got a bit of a social conscience. Don’t laugh, but I thought about joining the police – but I couldn’t quite cope with having my hair chopped from waist-length to crew-cut overnight. The ambulance service wasn’t quite so regimental about longish hair – so I shortened it gradually and here I am. I’ve been qualified for five years. I worked in London until my transfer here this year.’

  ‘And – um – do you think you’ll be staying … I mean, will you be transferred anywhere else?’

  He shook his head. ‘No. I’d like to put down my own roots now. I’ve done the crazy stuff. And I’ve no desire to go back to the city. So, much as I love Lav and Lob, in the New Year I’ll be looking for somewhere permanent to live round here.’

  Yessss! Lulu mentally punched the air.

  Of course there was a slight fly in the perfect ointment.

  ‘And – er – Carmel? Are you and she—? I mean, will you—?’

  Shay shrugged. ‘We get on well together. We’re a good team. She’s a great girl. And surprising. Do you know what she’s doing tonight?’

  ‘No,’ Lulu said, not really caring, just pleased that she wasn’t there on the village green playing an ethereal gooseberry.

  ‘She’s helping with the bonfire night party at the children’s hospice. She’s on the Dreams-to-Reality team for terminally ill kids. Spends every spare minute with them.’

  Lulu groaned. Oh, damn it. How could she carry on hating little fairy-doll Carmel when she was involved in something like that? It was only a step away from sainthood.

  ‘That’s wonderful,’ she said quietly. ‘She must be very special.’

  ‘Oh yes,’ Shay nodded. ‘She is.’

  Linking her arm through Brett’s, Doll almost skipped along the dark smoky Hazy Hassocks lanes. The orange glow in the sky meant that the bonfire was already well alight. The fireworks wouldn’t be long.

  ‘Feeling better?’ Brett looked at her. ‘Are you really sure you want to do this tonight?’

  ‘Absolutely. I feel fantastic now, thanks. Um – can I ask you something?’

  ‘Unless it involves quantum physics or the meaning of life, yeah.’

  ‘You know you said you didn’t want things to change? Well, what about if I gave up work?’

  ‘Do you want to?’ Brett looked at her in some surprise. ‘I always thought you were happy at the surgery.’

  ‘Oh, I am – I just wondered what would happen if I had a bit of a career break for say a year. Could we cope? Financially?’

  ‘I’m sure we could. We’d have to make a few cutbacks, but yes, if that’s what you want I’d support you all the way, you know that.’

  She smiled. ‘Okay, that’s great. And the other question. Do you want to get married?’

  Brett stopped walking. ‘What? To you? Or generally?’

  ‘Preferably to me,’ Doll grinned.

  Brett pulled her against him. ‘I wanted to marry you the first time I saw you – but as we were only six at the time and you’d just punched me for spoiling your skipping game in the playground I thought I’d better wait a bit before asking you.’

  ‘So, another quarter of a century on?’

  ‘I still feel the same – but then again, it’s never been necessary, has it?’

  They’d turned the corner and were on the edge of the green. The whole village had turned out, as always.

  ‘It might be necessary now,’ Doll said softly. ‘That is, if you’d like to go down the old-fashioned Hazy Hassocks route and have your baby born in wedlock.’

  Arriving home from Tarnia’s, Mitzi parked the car outside number 33, checked that Richard and Judy weren’t terrified by Armageddon occurring overhead, and set off for the village green. The fact that Tarnia and Snotty Mark were aiming to be recognised by the Palace for dishing out largesse to the hoi-polloi had cheered her immensely; it could only be good news for the survival of the Baby Boomers Collective – although she still felt announcing Hair as the Christmas entertainment must be kept sec
ret for as long as possible. However, the other activities, and particularly the Christmas lunch for the lost and lonely, would surely be embraced by the Snepps as a huge step forward on their way to Honourdom?

  The bonfire, with its effigy now lopsided and sliding, was a roaring, dancing blaze of orange and red and gold. The faces surrounding it glowed in the reflection. The cold air was alive with expectation.

  Exchanging greetings with each group, Mitzi moved towards the front of the crowd and over the heads spotted Lulu with Shay and some of her hippie-looking friends on one side of the bonfire, and Doll and Brett with Tammy and Viv from the dental surgery on the other. Both couples, she thought, looked extremely happy. She hoped they were. What more could a mother ask?

  She’d experienced a stupid pang of disappointment when she’d realised Joel wasn’t with Doll’s dentistry gang. Of course he’d have said he’d be here tonight out of politeness, wouldn’t he? He was a nice man; he wouldn’t have left her after the party with ‘thanks but no thanks’. He’d leave her to draw her own conclusions now.

  For a split second, Mitzi felt very alone. In the middle of this huge crowd, most of whom she’d known all her life, she felt lonely. While she’d never been a rampant feminist, she’d always known she was okay on her own. She’d never been one of those women who had to have a man in their life whatever the cost. She’d survived well without Lance or any long-term replacement. But now, having spent some time with Joel, and felt that damn tingle, one half of a couple seemed a very desirable thing to be. And, she admitted to herself, she had been looking forward to seeing him again.

  Bustling forward in the flickering light, the vicar shouted his usual greetings, made a sort of trumpeting fanfare through his teeth, and carefully manoeuvring the glowing taper, set alight the first firework.

  The blue touch paper glowed. There was a mass intake of breath.

  Nothing happened. The blue touch paper stopped glowing.

  There was a mass groan of disappointment.