by Sue Watson
I didn’t have the money. Everything I’d made in the bakery had been ploughed straight back into the business or used to pay basic living expenses, and what little I’d put aside was for Christmas gifts.
I didn’t want Tamsin to see how upset I was because it would only upset her. I could see by her face she was now taking on the guilt and responsibility for the problem.
‘I feel terrible, we won’t be able to do any Christmas deliveries,’ she was sobbing.
‘Please don’t feel terrible. It’s an old van and I’m sure we can find a solution,’ I wiped my eyes, tried not to vomit and patted her leg... her other body parts were being comforted by Heddon and Hall. Mrs J was making more tea and Tamsin went on to talk through her ‘trauma’ like she’d been physically attacked.
‘For God’s sake, Tamsin, the van broke down, you’re fine, get a grip,’ I sighed, wondering what the hell I was going to do.
‘I’m sorry,’ she sighed. ‘You’re right, I’m being a prima donna, but I’ve never broken down before, never known the horror of that terrible black smoke coming from the engine.’
‘No. Well that’s because you’ve never driven a car older that twelve months old,’ I said, trying not to sound bitter.
‘Sam. It’s not a crime to own a new car, you know – just because you choose to drive some dilapidated old...’
‘Well isn’t that just typical. The very fact you say that I “choose” to drive an old van says it all. You think I have a choice, Tamsin, but I don’t, because I can’t afford a newer, more reliable vehicle. Like most people in the real world.’
I was angry, and so was she, we stared at each other, both red-faced with rage and resentment and I wanted to tell her to get out of my life. She talked about suffering as a child, but I’d suffered as an adult, I'd been widowed at thirty-one and I’d been left with scars too.
‘Ladies, ladies, now, now,’ said Hall, ever the peacemaker. ‘Let’s not get upset... we need to think about how we can make lemonade from these bloody rancid old lemons we’ve been handed,’ he smiled.
‘I just don’t know what to do,’ I sighed. ‘I can’t afford to get the van fixed and we have literally hundreds of orders to be delivered before Christmas.’
The boys gasped theatrically.
‘We’d help you but our van is packed with Christmas stuff and permanently on the road this time of year,’ Heddon said, rubbing Tamsin’s back.
‘Thank you, but we’ll be fine. I just need to think about it,’ I sighed, knowing that if I didn’t, we couldn’t make the deliveries. And if we couldn’t make the deliveries we would lose a lot of money, which would be a huge problem for the bakery.
‘It’s me – I’m the jinx,’ Tamsin said, throwing herself onto the table.
‘Yes, you are. It’s in the leaves... you’ve brought nothing but bad luck and there’s more to come,’ Mrs J added. I rolled my eyes, I wasn’t in the mood for Mrs J’s predictions or my sister’s attention-seeking theatrics.
Tamsin lifted her head, she looked crestfallen but said, ‘We shall rise to this challenge!’
I tried to ‘play nice’ but pointed out a thousand pounds was more than ‘a challenge’ where I came from. Heddon and Hall clearly felt the tension and announced their departure, saying they had to ‘decorate some glitzy balls’. I wasn’t sure if they were referring to Christmas balls or each other’s, but we all hugged goodbye and they skipped off into the snowy night.
Tamsin and I were left alone at the table, glaring at each other. We had loads to do before morning when I would have to phone all the deliveries to cancel, postpone or ask if they could collect. But Tamsin was still in fantasy land, talking colours and themes and how we could stage events and parties and catering and ‘transform the bakery’s fortunes’ with a makeover and a ‘Christmas Launch’. As usual I felt like we were speaking in different languages and her loud voice and sweeping gestures were too much for me. My sister and I had always been on different planets but I was worried she was still on ‘planet Tamsin,’ where money was no object.
‘I don’t have the money for makeovers,’ I sighed. ‘As much as I’d love the bakery to look like a white wonderland – I can’t do anything without a van.’
‘Not in the short term, but sweetie, we need to think beyond tonight. Oh God I’m exhausted, I’ve been through so much – I could just book myself into a spa... that’s what I need, a lovely massage and... a big man’s feet. Oh God, Sam, you haven’t lived until a big man has walked up and down your back...’
‘I feel like he just has,’ I sighed.
How could she even talk about a spa at a time like this? ‘Look. I don’t know how many times I have to tell you, Tamsin. We can’t ignore the boring, gritty day-to-day stuff by brushing it under the carpet and talking about bloody spas and launch parties. I have lived in my world for some time,’ I explained. ‘And like most other people’s lives it’s messy and sometimes not very pretty to look at. Unfortunately I can’t just spend my way to happiness or solve problems by buying myself another designer dress, and as of ten days ago – neither can you.’
She got up from the table and went into the bakery kitchen where she began banging trays around and slamming cupboard doors. I wondered seriously about what we were going to do – not just about the van, but the fact we just couldn’t live together.
I am laid-back, but even I was beginning to wonder when it would all end and there would be peace.
It felt like suddenly my life was falling apart, just when I’d thought things were coming together and this Christmas I would be able to celebrate for the first time in years. But Tamsin and her bags of pointless possessions had taken over everything; her presence was affecting my relationship with Richard because we could never be alone; and time I should be spending with Jacob was being sucked up by Tamsin’s endless, high-maintenance demands. She was getting involved in Jacob’s life and hair, banging on about ‘holding events’ when we didn’t have the time or the money and now the van was just one more thing – and she just didn’t get it that no van meant no business.
Then I heard Jacob calling.
After I’d given him his tea, I’d sent him upstairs with his laptop and asked Mrs J to sit with him for a little while until I could close the bakery. She was no doubt now napping on the sofa, so I was a little concerned he may be scared or worried on his own.
‘Mum... Mummy...’ he called downstairs.
‘Yes sweetie?’ He didn’t answer and as Tamsin appeared in the kitchen doorway wiping her hands, we both looked at each other.
‘Sweetie are you okay?’ I called again. The look on Tamsin’s face mirrored mine. Our previous irritation with each other dissipated as we had both instinctively responded to his call, united in our love for Jacob.
‘Yeah. Mum... what’s gay nympho?’
Tamsin screamed and covered her face with both hands.
‘Get off that laptop NOW,’ I shouted, flying up the stairs, Tamsin in hot pursuit.
‘Oh my God he’s watching gay porn...’ she was yelling from behind me. I could have sworn the laptop had a parental lock on, but what did I know? As far as I was concerned he was playing Minecraft, how on earth had he found himself on a porn sight? It wasn’t any old porn sight either, I thought, mounting the stairs two by two – it was quite specific... gay nymphos.
‘I’m phoning Tana my therapist...’ Tamsin was shouting. ‘She can sort this... there are retreats we can send him to.’
Ignoring Tamsin, I tore into the room and snatched the laptop from him, unable to imagine what he must have witnessed.
‘Mum... what are you doing?’ he whined.
I stood with the laptop in my hands. I couldn’t see any gay nymphos on the Minecraft site, but it occurred to me I wouldn’t know what to do if I did... the joke was I’d have to ask my six-year-old to get rid of them.
I didn’t want to scare him, or alert him to something he may not understand, so trying to make it sound like Tellytubbies, I sai
d; ‘Can you see any of the little... gay... nymphos... here?’ At that old Mrs J’s head was up and she was wide awake.
‘Oh what are you saying to the lad now?’ she hissed, like it was a daily occurrence for me to ask my child to find porn on his computer.
‘No, Mrs J – you don’t understand, he asked me what gay nymphos are... and I...’
She stood back, shocked, then leaned in to look at him, her nose touching his. ‘Jacob,’ she shouted in his face, ‘what are you doing with gay nymphos on your laptop?’
‘I’m not...’
I stepped in, moving Mrs J aside to try a more gentle approach.
‘Darling, why did you ask Mummy what gay nympho means?’
‘I didn’t... I said what does game info mean?’
‘Oh...’ I didn’t know where to put myself as Mrs J put her hands on her hips and shook her head slowly, looking at me with sheer disgust, at which point Tamsin appeared in the doorway with her mobile clamped to her ear.
‘Tana? Thank God! This is an emergency... we need your help, we’ve just discovered my six-year-old nephew is addicted to gay internet porn...’
I finally managed to calm everyone down and convince my sister and Mrs J that Jacob hadn’t been downloading anything untoward and his internet activities were innocent. But it was just another exhausting half hour of my life I wouldn’t get back. I was beginning to feel like I was in a surreal world where I had no control and no one was listening to me. Tamsin’s noise filled my head and what would normally have been me having a quiet conversation with Jacob ended up with me screaming ‘gay nymphos’ in his face, to the soundtrack of Mrs J’s tutting and Tamsin’s hysterical call to some therapist. When, I wondered, did my life get so crazy and loud and most of all – when would it stop?
* * *
The following morning Richard came over. Jacob was at school and Tamsin had gone to argue with someone at the bank and during a few precious minutes alone in the bakery kitchen he asked again about being together at Christmas.
‘For God’s sake, Richard, I don’t know what I’m doing tomorrow, let alone Christmas,’ I’d snapped. ‘We don’t have a van and without it I’m in serious danger of losing my business – I may not even have a Christmas at this rate.’ I was aware I’d been quite short with him and also aware I was beginning to sound like Tamsin. Her brusque, business-like manner was infectious, as was her stress.
‘I think we should talk,’ he said. I nodded, I didn’t have time for this but Richard looked so serious I asked Mrs J to keep an eye on the shop while we went upstairs and, judging by her face, I’m sure she assumed we were going to have wild sex. I didn’t care what she thought, Richard obviously had something to say and we couldn’t talk in full view of customers. My mouth felt dry as I led him into the living room, Tamsin’s bin liners had crept further onto the sofa in the past couple of days so we had to sit on the floor.
‘I can’t go on like this,’ he sighed. ‘I don’t want to push you into something you aren’t ready for Sam, but I won’t wait forever.’
My heart did a flip. Was he finishing this? It was the last thing I’d expected – Richard was always around, he’d said I was everything to him. I felt my heart begin to thud in my chest.
‘Am I just wasting my time? I’m not an idiot, Sam. I won’t be strung along.’
‘God I never thought you were and I’m not stringing you along... I told you from the beginning. I’m not sure I can do forever, not after Steve,’ I said. Richard nodded, but I could see he was hurt by the fact I still couldn’t let him in.
‘Someone or something wants a piece of me every minute of every day at the moment – and I can’t take much more...’ I started to cry and he put his arm around me.
‘I understand. And I won’t be the one more person who makes life hard for you. I’d wanted to be the person that takes away your troubles... if you'd have just let me.’
‘I’m sorry Richard. I can’t...’
I could see his eyes were sad even in the dimness of the tree lights, but I was so tired and worn out I couldn’t take it on. I didn’t have the energy for yet another emotional casualty – even if it was my own victim.
‘I’m sorry,’ he said. ‘This is too much for both of us – we seem to want different things Sam, I think we should say goodbye so we can both go and find them.’
I nodded, big tears dropping down my face. He stood up while I watched the dying embers of the fire send up little smoke signals. Mrs J would say it was the spirits telling me to stop him leaving, to kiss him better. But I had to kiss me better first.
He left silently and I watched from the upper window as he trudged home in the snow, shoulders hunched, head down. A wave of sadness overwhelmed me, I didn’t want to hurt this man, but in my own mixed up way I suppose I was trying to protect both of us. I may be the woman he wanted, but I couldn’t be the woman he needed. I had to protect my life and my heart... Love and loss had devastated me once already.
Perhaps in the long term it was best for me to let Richard go? I couldn’t give him what he wanted, a committed relationship, a ready-made family – and yet ultimately wasn’t it what I wanted too? I knew I was being stupid – and perhaps if I’d been brave enough to take a chance, I might finally have found what I was looking for... but I just couldn’t do it.
16
Sauvignon Blanc and a Seafaring Threesome
Tamsin
The following day we ordered a taxi to drive me and all the deliveries around the area. The taxi driver was called Keith and on the journey he told me all about his three baby mothers and his current girlfriend’s weakness for crack. It was like a real life Jeremy Kyle and I half hoped I’d see him again to find out what happened next. Things hadn’t been great between Sam and I, so I felt, as the big sister, it was up to me to make amends, so that night I joined her to work late in the bakery.
‘I’ve been thinking,’ I announced as she slaved wordlessly over cupcake batter. ‘I know you’re worried about the van situation and I hope you don’t think I’m interfering,' I said pointedly, ‘but I called Gabe.’
Sam looked up. ‘Why?’
‘Well. Given that Gabe and I have a little unspoken, unfinished, ‘thing’ between us, I asked if he might help us out with deliveries until we can get the van fixed. I hadn’t heard from him since the bodice-ripping incident but asked if he could do me a favour. He said yes straight away, which I took as a good sign so I asked if he might help us out with deliveries until we can get the van fixed. I said we’d pay him petrol money... worryingly he said we could ‘come to some arrangement’, and if I have to prostitute myself for this business, so be it,’ I giggled.
‘You wonderful, wonderful... old tart,’ Sam said, reaching her arms out to hug me and it felt good being able to help her again.
‘He asked if I’d be joining him on deliveries and I said yes and that seemed to seal the deal for him.’
I blushed, just thinking about our telephone conversation, it was quite delicious, and I flushed again remembering how my eyelashes had batted down the phone line.
Sam seemed so relieved. ‘Oh Tam, you’ve saved my life – and my business!’ She’d jumped up and down like a little girl and we’d danced around the bakery together to celebrate. I saw a couple of people pass by and to my horror realised they were yummy mummies from the school. Sometimes I really do think she asks for it, I thought, as Sam swept me across the floor like bloody Fred Astaire and the yummy mummies peered in, nudging each other with smirks on their faces. Sam was oblivious and while fox trotting across the bakery floor I stared hard right back at them through the window. The next time I looked they’d gone.
‘So, let’s celebrate the solving of the van issue,’ I said. I’d found a warm bottle of cheap Sauvignon in one of Sam’s cupboards and poured us both a glass to toast before we started work.
‘Here’s to no talk about men, money, vans or business,’ I said as we clinked glasses.
Sam agreed, but within min
utes was asking if I’d heard from Simon.
‘Mmmm I don’t want to talk about Simon either – quite frankly he can toss off.’
‘Nice mouth,’ Sam said, laughing.
‘I am such a potty mouth on Sauvignon Blanc, it makes me say things I wouldn’t normally dream of uttering,’ I giggled, feeling the welcome warmth of the white wine fill my chest. ‘As Rosalind Rice discovered last summer just before her yacht company went tits up,’ I went hot, recalling my horrific faux pas on board Sky Dancer.
‘They were launching their latest model and I was languishing on deck sipping what I assumed to be a decent wine, but it was in fact a new world Sauvignon,’ I curled my lip. ‘Anyway, I was three sheets to the wind when Rosalind’s husband sauntered up, and in front of everyone gesticulated toward my décolletage and said “Would you like a threesome?”’
Sam had stopped kneading, mouth half open in shock. ‘Rosalind’s husband? Oh God, what did you say?’ she asked, a smile playing on her lips.
‘Well, I was outraged. I slapped his face and called him a filthy pervert. Not words I would use normally in polite company,’ I explained.
‘No, but it’s not every day someone’s husband propositions you in polite company is it? She’d temporarily stopped kneading the bread to take all this in.
‘So what happened?’
‘Well, when Rosalind’s husband recovered from shock and asked why I’d reacted with such vitriol to his comment, the Sauvignon had really kicked in. I heaped even further abuse on the man, informing him very loudly that I wasn’t into his dirty little sex games. I said I was both horrified and surprised that Rosalind was married to such a disgusting scum pig,’ I grabbed a chair and sat down, Sam was enthralled.
‘You never told me this bit of gossip... Rosalind - a swinger? She’s such a stuck up bitch too...’
‘Mmmm. Let me finish,’ I waved my hand in the air. ‘As I shrieked obscenities at her husband, Rosalind wept, and silence descended on Sky Dancer, their 200-foot yacht. Everyone was staring and he was looking at me with such shock and horror it occurred to me that I may have misunderstood and the Sauvignon had caused me to perhaps overreact to what he’d said.’
