Somebody to Love: Sigh With Contentment, Scream With Frustration. At Time You Will Weep.

by Sheryl Browne

  Chapter Nineteen

  ‘But I’ve already done my hair,’ Donna protested, not happy with Alicia forking out, no matter how generous her maintenance payments.

  ‘Yes, but I didn’t know that when I booked it, did I?’ Alicia marched purposefully into the beauty salon, Donna trailing behind. ‘Anyway, we’re having the works, manicure, pedicure and facial, so you might as well settle down and have your hair styled as well. Oh, and we’re having a cellulite treatment.’

  ‘Oh, no we are not,’ Donna assured her. ‘I’ve learned to love my thighs, thank you. They’re the only bit I don’t need to pluck and preen before I dare be seen in public.’ Because they were usually covered up, but still… ‘And it doesn’t work anyway,’ she announced, much to the chagrin of the beautician.

  Half an hour later, Donna was as slippery as an eel and her thighs, she suspected, still looked the same as they did when she got out of bed.

  Still, by the time that she had her manicure and pedicure, and her face golden toned and shimmered to add an illusion of radiance and youthful luminosity, she did feel a lot better. ‘Not too bad, I suppose.’ She smiled through the mirror at her similarly shimmered sister.

  Her hair looked lovely, too. Lord knew how they’d managed to loosely finger dry it into bouncy, glossy curls, but Donna wasn’t complaining. It looked better than Jody’s, she thought in a guilty moment of vanity, then immediately thought of Mark and paused to retrieve her heart, which had dropped to about toned thigh level.

  ‘Come on, chop chop.’ Alicia bundled her out of the salon. ‘Next stop, The Shop,’ she announced strutting forth.

  ‘No, Alicia.’ Donna eyed The Shop-front where all manner of tease-and-please outfits were displayed. ‘Absolutely not. Alicia?

  Drat. Donna skidded in after her.

  ‘The velour bodice and thong I think.’ Alicia mused out loud, having emptied the shop faster than a fire alarm would.

  Donna gawked. ‘You’re not seriously going to wear that?’

  ‘No.’ Alicia was now busy eyeing up another outrageous outfit. ‘You are.’

  ‘Oh, no I’m…’

  ‘Yes, Donna, you are. You’re Madonna.’

  ‘I’m not,’ Donna refuted. ‘I’m a hippie-chick.’

  ‘A very sad little chick, judging by the look I saw on your face when you showed me the dress. Ditch it, Donna. It looked great, but it wasn’t making you feel very great, was it, after… certain events.’

  Donna chewed on her lip. She was right. The last thing Donna wanted to do after last night was put that outfit on again tonight, with or without funny-coloured tights.

  ‘If you’re going to get called a good-time girl, then give the guy good reason, I say, and go for it. Let it all hang out and have a blooming good time.’

  Donna wasn’t sure she’d got that much to hang out, but she was warming to the idea. Strutting her stuff in leather and lace and having a laugh sounded infinitely more inviting than being miserable. And Alicia had been so selfless, bless her stockings.

  ‘In any case, I’m going as Cher and I’m not walking in dressed in nothing but a string vest on my own.’

  ****

  ‘Oh, grrreat.’ Mark sighed as he turned the corner into his father’s road, to see Evelyn’s Mini parked outside Dot’s, which meant, if Evelyn wasn’t already there, she’d make sure to pop around to his father’s. To give him a piece of her mind no doubt, demanding explanations that he didn’t feel inclined to offer.

  ‘Problem?’ Phil asked.

  ‘Donna’s mother,’ Mark supplied. ‘And I really do not need this, right now.’

  He didn’t either. After what happened with Donna, him subsequently driving home like a maniac, torn between anger and guilt, to find Starbuck ill… No, he didn’t need this.

  ‘Do you want to give it a miss? We can always swing by later,’ Phil suggested.

  ‘No. Thanks, Phil, but I’d better check up on him now with things being so up in the air at home.’ Mark smiled appreciatively.

  It wasn’t often he offloaded his problems onto his partner, but he had tonight, supposing he at least owed Phil an explanation for coming on duty half-unconscious after staying up most of the night with Karl.

  ‘Right.’ Phil nodded, as Mark pulled up. ‘Good luck,’ he said sombrely.

  ‘I’ll need it.’ Mark rolled his eyes, raked his hand through his hair, and reached for the door.

  ‘If you’re not out in fifteen minutes, I’ll call for backup.’

  ‘Cheers.’ Mark laughed, climbed wearily out of the car and headed for his father’s house. He could probably have given it a miss for once, with Dot and their very own warrior woman next door, but he would rest easier knowing his dad was okay.

  Dammit, he should’ve given it a miss. Mark shook his head as he walked in, almost too exhausted to be bemused when Evelyn greeted him, ‘You’ve got a nerve, showing your face —’

  ‘Here?’ Mark finished, turning to close the door and counting to five as he did so.

  ‘Anywhere,’ Evelyn assured him, standing arms folded and barring his way up the hall.

  Mark shoved his hands in his pockets. ‘Yes, well, I’m sorry about that, Evelyn. I’d top myself to make the world a happier place for you but, unfortunately, I have people who depend on me. Excuse me.’ He nodded past her to the lounge.

  Evelyn stood aside, reluctantly.

  ‘How is he?’ Mark asked, careful to avoid the well-aimed daggers she was shooting at him as he passed.

  ‘Well, I’m not sure whether he’s in the First World War or the nineteen-fifties. He’s definitely in the African Queen though.’

  Mark’s mouth twitched into a smile. And Evelyn was Katharine Hepburn, presumably. He glanced at her. Yep, he could see her sinking the boat for a good cause.

  ‘Hi, Dad,’ Mark said, going in. ‘What’s up?’

  ‘Leeches, son. Leeches.’ Robert tsked. ‘There’s some nasty things in rivers, you know?’

  Mark glanced at the TV. ‘Humph will save the day though, hey?’

  ‘And the woman.’ Robert chuckled. ‘Your mother loves this film, you know? Only saw it at the cinema a while back, and now it’s on TV. Amazing.’

  ‘It’s a DVD,’ Evelyn confided, when Mark went back to the hall. ‘He was babbling on about it the other night, so…’ She shrugged…

  … As if she didn’t give a damn about anyone? Mark hid a smile.

  ‘I can hear you, woman,’ Robert shouted from his armchair. ‘Anyone would think I was deaf.’ He huffed and turned the volume up.

  ‘Early sixties at a guess,’ Mark informed Evelyn. ‘And I’ve a sneaking suspicion you’re currently his wife.’

  Evelyn paled.

  Mark did smile then. ‘I have to go. I’m on duty. You know where to reach me if you or Dot need to.’

  ‘Yes, pity Donna doesn’t know how to reach you,’ Evelyn said as he headed for the door. ‘Or you her. What were you thinking, Mark?’

  Mark stopped. ‘I wasn’t.’ He shrugged, his back to her.

  ‘But you said some terrible things to her. And to hit out at someone without establishing the…’

  ‘Evelyn, I have to go. My partner’s outside. I can’t do this now.’

  ‘But why, Mark? You were getting along so well, apparently, and then…’

  ‘And then, I found her in the bedroom with another man, Evelyn.’ Mark turned around. ‘How would you have felt?’

  ‘Confused, upset, angry,’ Evelyn conceded, ‘jealous.’

  ‘All of those,’ Mark admitted. ‘As for why I lost it,’ he shrugged awkwardly, ‘because I was toying with the idea of asking you to become my mother-in-law, God help me. I have to go.’

  ****

  ‘Wear them,’ Alicia instructed, whilst smudging her eye-liner into a sultry Egyptian Cher look. ‘They’re supposed to look tarty. It’s fancy dress. It’s allowed. And they make your legs look longer.’

  ‘They make my legs look like two beanpoles.’ Donna sighed,
glancing down at blood-red stilettos, which were definitely not made for walking.

  ‘Donna, they don’t. Your legs are fine. Now come on, let’s pop your boobs in and go, or the party will be over.’ With which Alicia twanged Donna’s bodice forward and stuffed two sock-stuffed polystyrene cups down her frontage.

  ‘There.’ She stood back to admire her handiwork. ‘What do you think? One in the eye for Mark, or what?

  ‘Two, I should think.’ Donna curled a lip. ‘Very fetching, Alicia. Thank you.’

  ‘Right.’ Alicia grabbed her purple Cher wig. ‘Let’s go get ‘em,’ she said, steering Donna along the landing towards the stairs. ‘I just hope there’s some worth getting.’

  ‘Actually, I don’t want one, thank you.’ Donna tentatively tested the stairs with her heels.

  ‘No, well, you wouldn’t just now,’ Alicia conceded. ‘In which case, we’ll stick with the original plan of dancing around handbags.’

  ‘Thanks. Alicia,’ Donna said, grateful that Alicia was caring enough to give up a night with her new boyfriend to make sure Donna didn’t have to go to the party alone.

  ‘We don’t need men to have a good boogie,’ Alicia assured her. ‘Sisters are doing it for themselves. Whoa!’

  ‘Eventually.’ Donna tried another step.

  ‘Go on,’ Alicia urged her from behind. ‘The taxi will be here.’

  ‘I’m trying.’

  ‘Talking of which, I’m going to have to get the taxi to drop me straight back afterwards. Babysitter needs to get back, apparently. Will you be all right?’

  ‘Of course I will. I’m not about to fall apart,’ Donna assured her, finally having managed the treacherous descent of the stairs. ‘Over, yes.’

  ‘Wow, fit.’ Matt wolf-whistled, appearing from the lounge. ‘The blonde one’s yours, Ed.’

  ‘Cool.’ His friend raised an interested pierced eyebrow behind him. ‘Er, they’re both blonde, Matt.’

  Alicia winked and plopped the wig on her head. ‘Your lucky night, Ed.’

  ‘Yeah, right.’ Ed sloped to the front door ahead of Matt. ‘Yours is the purple one, Matt.’

  ‘Mum,’ Matt turned back, as Donna teetered towards her coat hanging in the hall, then swung from it, ‘as we’re in party spirit…’

  ‘Ye-es?’ Donna righted herself and eyed her son warily.

  ‘I thought I might invite a few friends around.’

  Donna paled under her luminescence. ‘When?’

  ‘One night next week, for my birthday.’

  ‘Oh.’ Donna pondered, whilst trying out her new spin on multitasking, staying upright in her shoes and putting her coat on. ‘Well…’

  ‘It’ll be cheaper than an alternative present.’

  ‘Which might be?’ Alicia enquired, obviously on Donna’s wavelength as to whether cheaper was worth risking good neighbourhood relations for.

  ‘Nubile young female and a small island in the Bahamas.’ Matt looked ever-so hopeful.

  Donna laughed. ‘Go on then.’

  ‘Great. I quite like blondes, but…’

  ‘The party, Matt,’ Donna informed him, skirting around a sleeping Sadie for fear of spearing her to the hall floor.

  ‘Damn, didn’t work, Ed.’ Matt sloped on out.

  ‘But no weird-looking friends or alcohol over-indulgence,’ Donna called after him.

  ‘Yes, Mother.’ Matt cocked a bemused eye over his shoulder as Donna staggered to the hall cupboard to pluck up her party supplies: a four-pack of lager and bottle of wine.

  ****

  As much as Donna didn’t want a man, she got one — a cross-dressed one.

  ‘Hi, I’m Daniel.’ He leapt on her as she teetered between kitchen and lounge in search of more wine, two glasses not being nearly enough to let go of her inhibitions. ‘Area Sales Manager, Winterseal Windows, at your service.’

  He offered his hand, then cocked his head to one side. ‘Don’t I know you?’ he asked, squinting at her curiously.

  ‘Possibly.’ Donna smiled. ‘Madonna. Do you go to many of my concerts?’

  ‘Haw, haw.’ He chuckled. ‘I can see you’re a bit of a wit.’

  ‘Yes.’ Donna rolled her eyes, and resisted saying, and I can see you’re a bit of a twit.

  He was actually probably perfectly lovely, but Donna really didn’t want to do this. All she wanted to do was let her hair down, so long as her new bouncy, glossy look didn’t sag, and have a good time dancing around her handbag.

  ‘Are you cold?’ Daniel asked, moving around in front of her as she attempted to walk on.

  As she was still swathed in her coat, Donna supposed it must look that way. ‘A bit,’ she said, not ready to reveal her polystyrene boobs just yet.

  ‘That’ll be the single glazing.’ Daniel nodded knowledgeably, and promptly launched into his sales patter.

  The gymslip was a bit off-putting but he was quite reasonable looking Donna supposed, another wine later.

  Having learned where her soffits were and the merits of hardwood versus UPVC, she stifled a yawn, then sighed relieved as the cavalry arrived in the form of Alicia. ‘Can I drag you away for a sec,’ she asked, dragging Donna away anyway.

  ‘He looks all right.’ Alicia nodded back at Daniel as they headed for the lounge. ‘Nice legs.’

  ‘He seems to be,’ Donna shouted as Robbie Williams was cranked up a gear. ‘It’s just…’

  He wasn’t Mark. The thought popped into Donna’s head uninvited. She was beginning to wish she had rung him. The worst he could have done was hang up. But then, she did have her pride. She hoisted up the shoulders. He should be doing the ringing after the things he’d said. The awful way he’d looked at her.

  Recalling the open disdain she’d seen in Mark’s eyes, Donna suddenly found herself close to tears. But no, she’d promised herself she wouldn’t, and so she wouldn’t. She dragged a hand under her nose. Mark Evans could go to hell. Meanwhile, she, adorable Donna — ho, ho — was going to have herself a blooming good time.

  ‘I know, hon.’ Alicia patted Donna’s arm tucked through hers. ‘Come on, come and dance. There’s a girly-group on the floor already.’

  ‘Cooee, Dons!’ Simon — who’d apparently been upstairs attending to hitch with his late change of costume — dashed over as they went into the lounge. ‘No, don’t tell me.’ He stood back to take in Donna’s attire. ‘Got it. A coat.’

  ‘Sorry?’ Donna looked at him askew.

  ‘You’ve come as an overcoat, haven’t you?’ He nodded enthusiastically. ‘It’s very good.’

  Alicia sighed. ‘Take it off, Donna.’

  ‘I will. In a minute,’ Donna said, feeling quite attached to her coat for some reason.

  ‘And you’re Eddie Izzard in drag.’ Simon beamed at Alicia.

  Alicia didn’t look impressed. ‘Cher, actually. And what are you supposed to be?’

  ‘A boxer, obviously.’ Simon flapped open his dressing gown to flash his silk boxers.

  ‘Oh, right. Make-up looks good.’ Alicia nodded, indicating Simon’s black eye. ‘It looks just like the real thing.’

  Simon glanced worriedly at Donna. ‘Um, well, actually…’

  Donna paled. ‘Oh, no, Simon… You mean… But, he didn’t…’

  ‘No, he didn’t. Stop with the guilt, hmm? I caught it on the bedside table when I fell. You can hardly see it with concealer on, in any case, so…’

  ‘God, Simon…’ Donna’s heart sank all over again.

  ‘It happened. It’s over.’ Simon waved a dismissive hand. ‘Forget it.’

  Oh, that Donna could forget it, with her mum practically moved in with Mark’s dad, little Karl who she couldn’t avoid seeing. Her chest heaving under her polystyrene cups every time she thought about Mark. And now this. She looked at Simon’s poor eye. He must have worn his concealer this morning. Bless him. He really was the kindest soul.

  ‘I am so sorry, Simon,’ Donna said, feeling absolutely terrible. And guilty, no matter how many times Simon t
old her not to.

  ‘Sorry for what, exactly?’ Simon gave her a despairing glance. ‘It was just an unfortunate accident born of normal human reaction. The man was crushed, Donna. I could see it in his gorgeous blue eyes. And, trust me, I can read men’s eyes. So stop beating yourself up with it.’

  ‘I’ll try.’ Donna made a magnificent effort to arrange her face into a smile.

  ‘You two need to start talking.’ Simon gave her shoulders a squeeze. ‘I’d say put your pride in your pocket and ring him, but I’m betting he rings you first.’

  She would, Donna decided. She would ring him, if only to clear the air for when they did cross each other’s paths, which well they might. The whole I’m not talking to him/her thing was terribly childish, after all. And in the middle of it was a child, who needed his father to be there for him, not emotionally distracted by nonsense.

  ‘So, come on. What do you think?’ Simon tactfully changed the subject and gave them a twirl.

  ‘Rocky,’ Donna read daubed across his dressing gown. ‘Very good, Simon.’

  ‘And this,’ Simon wrapped an arm around Nathan’s shoulders, as he appeared with drinks, ‘is Rocky Two. My very own personal rock.’

  Simon relieved Nathan of the drinks, swapping adoring glances with him as he did. ‘However, being not the selfish sort, I’m loaning him to you, Donna. Dance with the girl, Nathan, but be gentle with her.’ Simon drew a hand around his chest area and mouthed, ‘Broken heart.’

  Nathan laughed and crooked his arm. ‘Dance, ma’am?’

  ‘Well… Oh, all right then. Why not?’ Donna dragged herself from the gloom, and accepted his offer.

  ‘Oh, Dons,’ Simon called, as they headed for the Moroccan rug come dance-floor.

  Donna glanced back.

  Simon waved a hand over his whole body area this time, indicating Donna’s camouflage.

  Which Donna was feeling a bit hot under, actually. Time for the great unveiling. She had a surreptitious glance around, then shrugged self-consciously out of her coat — and no one batted an eyelid. Humph.

  Donna was nicely into the bump to Stevie Wonder’s, Signed, Sealed, Delivered when Daniel tapped Nathan on the shoulder.