Brake Failure

by Alison Brodie

  He jumped back. ‘What?’

  ‘It will give you an opportunity to talk to her.’

  ‘No!’

  Ruby sighed. Edward was like a child clinging to his mother’s skirts. ‘Grow some balls, Ed, and tell her you love her!’

  ‘No!’

  ‘Yes!’ She continued more softly: ‘We will have dinner together. Knock back a few glasses of wine. Then I will take Rowdy for a walk. While I’m gone, you will explain to Donna that you and I have agreed to separate. And that you love her … madly.’

  ‘Oh, God, I can’t.’ Edward suddenly stiffened, his anxiety replaced with outrage. ‘What’s that animal doing in the house?’ he demanded, pointing at Rowdy.

  ‘The Wildlife Controller said it would be more effective if we had a dog inside rather than outside.’

  ‘I don’t care - get rid of him. Is that my teddy bear?!’

  ‘He’s become so attached to it.’

  ‘But it’s mine.’

  ‘You want it back?’

  ‘Not with dog saliva all over it!’

  Ruby interrupted him. ‘Edward, this evening is all about Donna - not Rowdy. And I don’t want to panic you, but she’ll be here in ten minutes.’

  ‘Ten minutes!’ He looked at his watch as if it was about to explode.

  Ruby pushed him towards the stairs. ‘Keep taking deep breaths and go and put on your best suit.’

  Since Donna would bring with one of her moist, mouth-watering chocolate cakes, Ruby made semolina pudding with a fraction of the required liquid.

  When Donna arrived, Ruby greeted her warmly, accepting the chocolate cake with gushing gratitude. ‘Oh, Donna, you look amazing!’ And she did. Her golden hair tumbled about her pretty face, her figure hugged by a velvety, wine-coloured dress. It was only when she walked ahead of her that Ruby saw the dress was totally back-less.

  Good girl!

  Edward was going to be gagging.

  ‘Hey, Ed!’ Ruby exclaimed, seeing her husband sidling down the stairs. ‘You look so handsome! And what about Donna? Doesn’t she look amazing?!’ Ruby felt like a mother boosting the confidence of two spotty adolescents out on their first date.

  ‘Hello, Donna,’ Edward said stiffly ad pecked Donna on the cheek. Yep, Ruby decided. Edward needs help.

  When Donna saw Rowdy, she dropped on one knee and ruffled his ears. ‘Oh, I just love puppy dogs.’ She glanced up at Edward. ‘I thought you hated dogs?’

  ‘Oh, Edward loves them,’ Ruby cried. ‘He saw Rowdy, here, abandoned on the freeway and brought him home, all thin and straggly - Rowdy, not Edward.’ Ruby laughed. ‘Edward insisted we keep him, didn’t you Edward?’ She gave him a meaningful look.’

  Picking up his cue, Edward knelt down and put an arm around Rowdy, wincing as Rowdy rasped a long friendly tongue up his cheek.

  ‘Let’s eat.’ Ruby made sure that Donna walked ahead of them as they went through to the dining room. ‘You’re so slim, Donna. Do you diet?’

  ‘No, I guess I’m just lucky.’

  Ruby heaved a sigh. ‘You sure are. Edward doesn’t know it, but in my family the women start spreading like melted hog-lard by the age of thirty-five.’

  She sat them down, facing each other, and served over-cooked duck. Needing to get the evening off to a buoyant start, she told them a joke. ‘A wife invited some people to dinner. At the table, she turned to their six-year-old daughter and said, would you like to say the blessing? The girl answered: I wouldn’t know what to say. So the mother said: Just say what you heard mommy say. The girl then bowed her head and said, Lord why on earth did I invite all these people to dinner?’

  Watching Donna and Edward laughing, Ruby realised she was being too vivacious. Donna had to be the one to sparkle. Time for Ruby to get boring. But what did she say? Jeez, it used to be so easy.

  For starters, she began to list out the special offers in the poultry section of Hy-Vee.

  ‘… and frozen thighs are cheaper than fresh.’

  After twenty minutes of this, Edward’s eyes were glazing over.

  Good.

  Ruby turned to Donna. Okay, sweetheart, she thought, now it’s your turn - and after my performance, even the most socially inept will seem like Jenny Éclair.

  Donna proved a disappointment. Eager to please, and thinking her hostess was truly, truly interested in price-checking, she took them through the pork promotion in Stay-Fresh.

  This wasn’t working. Ruby had unwittingly made Donna sound dull and insipid.

  After that, Ruby dominated the conversation; not even allowing Edward to open his mouth (who wants to hear about canine dysentery?).

  When they had finished eating, Ruby shepherded them into the candlelit sitting room, sat them side by side on the sofa in front of the log fire then told them she was taking Rowdy for a walk. She returned thirty minutes later hoping to see them breaking off from a kiss, flustered and giggling; instead they sat like commuters waiting for a train.

  When Donna saw Ruby, she gave her a warm affectionate smile. ‘Hi Ruby!’

  Ruby hesitated.

  This was all wrong.

  Donna was behaving as if they were best friends. But did a best friend steal your husband? No. Donna was so good-hearted, she would be genuinely sorry to hear that Ruby and Edward were splitting up, but more than that, she would be horrified to think she was the cause of it.

  Aha! Ruby thought. But would Donna be so reluctant to come between man and wife, if she discovered that the wife was a scheming, two-faced bitch?

  Ruby had no choice.

  She had to make Donna hate her.

  ‘Edward, darling,’ Ruby said sweetly. ‘Could you take Rowdy for a walk, please?’

  Edward took the leash as if he’d never seen one before; but thankfully he didn’t protest. The second he was out of the house, Ruby turned to Donna.

  ‘Edward never nags, even when I haven’t cleaned the kitchen for a week. All his buttons have fallen off his shirts but I can’t be bothered to sew them back on.’ Donna’s smile was losing its sparkle. Ruby sneered. ‘He really wants kids, but I don’t. You got kids?’

  ‘No.’ Donna glanced away, but not before Ruby saw a shadow of sadness pass over her face.

  Ruby remembered Edward saying that Donna’s husband used to hit her. What sort of monster could hurt someone so fragile and sweet-natured? But this was not the time for Ruby to get soft. ‘You’re divorced, aren’t you, Donna?’ Ruby shook her head in disapproval. ‘You’ve got to work at a marriage, you know.’

  ‘I did!’ The little voice trembled. ‘I just couldn’t take any more beatings.’

  ‘So you must’ve had a violent father, that’s why you chose a violent husband-’

  ‘No! I didn’t know he was violent when I married him.’

  Ruby yearned to envelop Donna in a warm hug, to tell her she should’ve cut off the bastard’s bollocks. But Ruby had to remain ruthless - for Donna’s sake. One day, when little Edward Junior and Dixie-Sunbeam were playing with their beige kitten on their beige hearthrug, this moment would just be a bad memory for Donna.

  Donna brushed away a tear. ‘Ruby, I really like you, but I don’t want you talking this way.’

  ‘You know what the secret is,’ Ruby continued, cutting a slice of cake, ‘treat ’em mean, keep ’em keen. I’m not going to tell Edward I don’t want kids until it’s too late.’

  The soft, mournful look in those big blue eyes hardened. ‘That’s wrong. Oh, Ruby, that is so very wrong.’

  ‘Of course, I could get pregnant by another guy. I’m always having affairs, especially at truck stops.’

  Donna gasped as her gentle, uncluttered brain struggled to cope with the strength of her feelings.

  Ruby turned away and squeezed her eyes shut, unable to believe that she was capable of such lies …

  and desperately hoping they would work.

  *

  Miss Me When I’m Gone

  I’m outlaw, Alice Chambers

  I’ve
been buried far too long

  I hope someone remembers

  My frisky, fun-time song

  Hey! I wanna piece of action

  I want a silver gun

  Hey! I wanna piece of action

  showtime’s just begun.

  No more sipping tea for me

  Grab a crate of liquor

  Gonna get me a robbery

  My blood is running thicker

  No more washing dishes, honey

  No more huggin’, kissin’

  Gonna get a stack of money

  Then, hey! am goin’ missin’.

  Donna had left an hour ago, throwing a pitiful look at Edward and a fierce glance at Ruby.

  Donna despised her. Good.

  Edward still hadn’t told Donna he loved her: Bad.

  Now it was after midnight. Ruby sat in the back bedroom writing poetry. She was determined to get published in book form. All her recent stuff had been centred round Alice Chambers and the prairie, but once she had joined Payat’s tribe, a whole new world of inspiration would open up to her.

  First, she had to get Edward happily settled. For that, she would have to peel his fingers off her skirt, once and for all.

  *

  When Edward arrived home the next afternoon, he handed Ruby his coat, and asked:

  ‘Did you get athlete’s foot cream? And cotton buds? Have you found my other slipper yet?’ She said ‘no’ to all these questions and dropped his coat on a chair. He saw his polythene-covered shirts hanging on the back of a door.

  ‘You took them to the laundrette!’ he wailed. ‘And they’ve left creases!’

  ‘Have you spoken to Donna?’ she asked.

  Edward lost his bombastic expression. ‘No,’ he said sheepishly. ‘She wasn’t in today. She’s had to go home because her mother’s ill.’ He stood straight, as if with a sudden thought. ‘Do you know what I think? I think I should forget Donna and we concentrate on our marriage.’

  ‘You want to stay married to me?’

  ‘Yes.’

  Not for long, you won’t.

  *

  Karis was hosting the girls’ get-together that afternoon. Ruby had made a tiramisu; the ladyfinger sponge cakes soaked in coffee, the mascarpone sauce oozing between each layer, the top dusted in cocoa powder. She put it on the table in front of her friends.

  ‘This is tiramisu,’ she explained. ‘That’s Italian for, “Take me to heaven.”’

  She waited for her friends to dig in; instead, they backed away from it. She noticed the crudités - crudités? - on the table. Where were all the Danish pastries and chocolate cakes?

  ‘Okay, everyone,’ Karis sounded stern. ‘Have you got your New Year’s resolutions with you?’

  Although Ruby’s neighbours had their GOOD bags ready for Y2K bug-out, they’d also been working on their New Year’s Resolutions - in case the world did continue as normal.

  Karis asked Ruby to read them out, saying how they loved to hear her “speaking voice”.

  Ruby settled herself in the expansive red armchair by the fire. This was all so colourful and cosy, redolent of Christmas potpourri and hot spices. In the corner stood a Christmas tree decorated with golden baubles, tinsel and tiny bundles of cinnamon sticks tied up in red ribbon.

  Mary-Jo handed over a sheet of paper, and Ruby began to read:

  Mary Jo’s New Year’s Resolutions

  Pray to Jesus every night

  Lose 80 pounds

  Eat vegetables

  Don’t let the gas tank drop to red before filling up

  It was Echo’s turn next. She pulled a tight wad of paper out of her jeans pocket. Opened out, the paper was buckled and graffitied with illegible handwriting. She handed it to Ruby, who squinted to read the words:

  Echo’s New Year’s Resolutions

  Pray to Jesus every night

  Quit smoking

  Learn to cook

  Eat vegetables instead of pizza.

  Ruby paused. The rest was impossible to read. ‘What’s “organza filing septum … using diving table”?’

  Echo explained: ‘Organise filing system for bills instead of using dining table.’

  With a superior smile, Karis made an elaborate show of removing a pristine sheet of cream-coloured parchment from a matching A4 envelope. Her list had been hand-inscribed in gothic print written in turquoise ink and illustrated with pansies.

  Karis’s New Year’s Resolutions

  for the Year of My Lord Two thousand

  Pray to Jesus an extra five minutes every night

  Lose 2 pounds. Eat more vegetables.

  Swim more than thirty laps of the pool twice a week

  Darlene

  Pray to Jesus every night

  Eat vegetables.

  Lose 50 pounds

  Blair’s Resolutions

  Pray to Jesus every night

  Join the gym

  Lose 30 pounds.

  Eat vegetables.

  Ruby understood why they were not touching her tiramisu. They were all aiming to get healthy.

  ‘What about your resolutions, Ruby?’ Blair asked.

  Ruby had forgotten to do them. In fact, with everything going on in her life, she’d not given them a single thought. If she were to write them, what would they be?

  Grow my hair to my knees and colour it jet black.

  Learn to ride bare-back.

  Learn to speak Keyo

  Lose a husband.

  She shrugged. ‘Pray to Jesus every night?’

  Chapter Twenty Nine

  Mission Hills Police Precinct, Kansas City

  1.35 a.m. 1 Jan, 2000

  Branagh had left to carry on searching for Ruby. Molly was back with the tartan brigade. Madame van de Ghellinck was still sitting there, tapping a foot and staring thoughtfully into space. The Police Chief stood at the internal window looking down at the lobby. His eyes moved to the woman with the moustache. Why did she seem so smug, like she was enjoying herself?

  ‘Madame van de Ghellinck? Who’s that woman in the purple coat?’

  ‘Miss Abigail Thompson. She’s Ruby’s aunt on her father’s side. Why?’

  The Police Chief frowned thoughtfully. There was something about the old woman, like she was harbouring a secret, and he was curious. ‘I need to question her.’

  He heard a voice on the stairs. Zelda? He went to the door and flung it open to see his wife coming up the stairs carrying a cardboard box.

  Zelda smiled coyly. ‘Hi, honey. Thought you might be hungry.’ She walked past him and put the box on the desk.

  He could smell BBQ ribs. He felt the tears. He didn’t care about Madame van de Ghellinck; he pulled Zelda into his arms and kissed her.

  At this Madame van de Ghellinck excused herself and left.

  Zelda put a warm soft hand on his cheek. ‘I love you Joe.’

  ‘I love you, too, honey.’ He smiled. ‘I thought you’d forgotten about me?’

  ‘On New Year’s Eve? No way.’ She snuggled against him. ‘Why can’t you come home? You’ve got the woman who held up the bank. The hostages are free. What more do you have to do?’

  ‘I have to find a Jekyll and Hyde called Ruby.’

  Three weeks earlier …

  Chapter Thirty

  Ruby read back her diary for the day.

  Christmas Day

  11.00 Roll out of bed with hangover. My mission is to bulldoze Ed into the arms of Donna. He’s been waiting to give me my presents. He’s made a log fire. Snow outside like Xmas cake. Edward acts like I’m eagerly sharing this cosy, affectionate excitement. Strange: the shittier I am, the more he wants to please me. He’s even bought a gift for Rowdy! The only time Edward shouts at Rowdy now, is when Rowdy sits in front of the TV screen.

  11.30 His presents to me:

  - Blue mohair jumper

  - Steam iron

  - Vast bouquet of white lilies (I can’t be bothered to arrange them in a vase, so I shove them in the sink).

  My
gifts to Edward:

  - An Adoption Certificate for Hugo the Gorilla (Edward seems worried till I explain that the animal is staying in Borneo and not coming to live with us). - A plastic trout mounted on a wall plaque (push a button and it sings: “Take me to the River”). - Leather slippers. (Now, finally, he’ll stop asking me where his other slipper is).

  12.30 I make an American breakfast. Ed scrapes the syrup off his egg. I’ve finished my bacon, waffles and fries + shovel two more waffles on my plate. ‘Are you eating all that?’ he asks, amazed. I belch. ‘Does a bear shit in the woods,’ I answer. He’s silent, watching me then asks. ‘Eating for two?’ He sounds hopeful. I tell him I’m never having kids, unlike Donna. As soon as I mention her name he glances away all sad. Oh, come on, Ed! Grow some balls.

  4.00 Christmas Dinner is perfectly burnt. I’ve polished off a bottle of wine and thrown up in the loo. Even Rowdy is starting to look at me in disapproval.

  5.15 - 7.00 A total blank.

  7.10 Watch a soap opera about handsome surgeons doing a heart transplant while complaining about their love lives. Have a couple of Tequila Sunrises. The TV screen won’t keep still. If Rowdy squeaks his frog once more I will throw it out of the house. (The frog - not Rowdy)

  *

  Today was Boxing Day. There were still vomit stains on the front of her new mohair jumper. Ruby prayed she would never again have to live through a day like yesterday.

  Edward put an arm around her. ‘Maybe I’m wrong but it’s like we’re drifting apart,’ he murmured.

  Drifting apart? she thought incredulously. If we were icebergs you’d be in mid-Pacific and I’d be off Scapa Flow.

  What more could she do to get him to peel his fingers off her skirt? She had tried everything:

  - She’d gone from house-proud wife to domestic slobess.

  - She’d gone from cooking haute cuisine to shoving TV dinners in the microwave, to sending him out to Hy-Vee to graze on demonstration samples.