“You’re good at this, aren’t you?” Trot said when she was safely belted in.
“Do it for a living,” said Gabs.
“What, stuffing old ladies into vans?”
“Caring for the elderly.”
“Bit of a waste, isn’t it?” Trot remarked.
“Waste of what?”
“Of your assets.” He looked at her appraisingly.
“You leave my assets out of this. Let’s get going.”
The journey home was long and uncomfortable. Gabs, Mavis, and Alice were crammed together in the back of the van among the clutter and the fishing gear, bouncing around uncomfortably and toppling into one another every time the van turned a corner. Maudie, her spirits much revived, was singing something rude, and Trot was cursing the lot of them. All Gabs could think of was that soon she would be home in her own comfortable bed, and this nightmare of an evening would finally be over. The only thing she had to be thankful for was that the evening’s discussion didn’t get round to her, because while she had been looking forward to offloading the problem of Steph’s pregnancy, she hadn’t been prepared to undergo further censure over her feelings for Father Augustine.
They dropped Alice off first and watched her tottering towards her front door.
“She’ll be okay,” Trot said. “I’ll give her a ring tomorrow to make sure.”
Mavis and Maudie were next. By now, Maudie appeared to have nodded off, and Mavis was asleep with her head in the Greek urn. Gabs herself was stiff and uncomfortable and longing for a cigarette. She shuffled towards the front of the van so that Trot could hear her.
“Mind if I smoke?”
“Be my guest. I’ll have one too, if you’ve got one to spare.”
Gabs lit a cigarette and passed it through to Trot.
“Thanks,” Trot said. “What do you really do?” he asked.
“What do you mean?”
“For a living. What do you really do for a living?”
“Oh, this and that. But I do look after old people as well.”
“Ever thought of being a model?”
“No, thanks. Anyway, I’m not tall enough.”
“Are you — have you got a boyfriend?”
“That would be telling.”
“You mean, mind my own business?”
“Something like that.”
“Then I apologise.”
“No problem.” Gabs drew on her cigarette. “So, you’re Finn’s dad?”
“That’s right.”
“He’s a nice boy.”
“Yeah. Finn’s okay.” Trot stopped at a traffic light and flicked cigarette ash out of the window. “He was what you might call a one-night-stand baby.”
“So I gather.”
“How did you meet Alice?”
“Shared interests,” said Gabs.
“Alice never seems to have time for any interests,” Trot said. “Finn says she told him she was a member of a book group, but he doesn’t believe her.”
“War and Peace,” said Gabs.
“What?”
“War and Peace. That’s the book we’ve been reading.”
“If you say so.”
“I do.”
At this point they reached the road where Mavis lived, and Trot pulled up by the kerb. With some difficulty, they woke Mavis and Maudie and managed to get them out of the van. By now, Mavis was coming to her senses and had become maudlin and apologetic.
“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” she said, wobbling up the garden path on Gabs’ arm. “What — what must you think of me?”
“Never mind that,” Gabs said. “Now, keys. You need your keys, Mavis.”
Mavis fumbled in her bag.
“Give it here.” Gabs took the bag, found the keys, and unlocked the front door. “There you go,” she said.
There was a loud hissing sound, and an angry ball of fur hurled itself at Gabs and attached itself to her shoulder, biting and scratching.
“Bloody hell!” Gabs lashed out at her assailant, stabbing it with the front door key. There was an indignant yowl, and the ball of fur detached itself and streaked up the stairs. “What the fuck was that?”
“The cat. Mother’s cat. So — so sorry. So sorry,” said Mavis.
“So you keep saying. Sorry’s all very well, but that animal’s a liability. It ought to be put down before it really hurts someone.” Gabs got out a tissue and wiped blood from her neck. “Fucking thing!”
She and Trot settled Mavis and Maudie in their living room and made a quick getaway.
“Thank goodness that’s over,” said Gabs as they made their way back towards the van. “What an evening!”
“Where do you live?” Trot asked.
“It’s okay. I’ll get a taxi the rest of the way,” Gabs told him.
“But it’s no trouble.” Trot grinned. “It’ll be a pleasure.”
“That’s what I’m afraid of. No. I’ll see myself home.”
“Don’t you trust me?”
“Nope.”
“Well, that’s great. After all the trouble I’ve been to this evening!”
Gabs patted him on the cheek. “You’ve been a very good boy, and I’m grateful, but now it’s time to go home.”
“And I suppose I can’t see you again?”
“That’s right. You can’t.”
In the back of the taxi, Gabs stretched out her legs and breathed a sigh of relief. If she never saw Alice and Mavis again, it’d be too soon.
Part Four
Alice
Finn was gloating.
It was only very rarely that he managed to attain the moral high ground, and now that he was there, he showed little inclination to vacate it. It didn’t take long for Alice to decide that a sulking teenager — which was the kind she was more accustomed to—was infinitely preferable to this new, self-righteous one.
“You were stoned!” he crowed. “My mother was stoned! How cool is that?”
“Leave it, can’t you, Finn?” Two days after the event, Alice was still feeling tired and very foolish. “Okay. So I was stupid. But can we let it go now?”
“Let it go? Oh no! This is too good to let go. And Trot says that after what you did to his plant, he —”
“You’ve been discussing this with Trot?”
“Course I have. After all, he rescued you. If it wasn’t for Trot, you’d still be staggering round that park.”
“He told you that, did he?”
“Yeah. He thinks it’s hilarious.”
“Oh, does he?”
“He’s told all his friends.”
“How sweet.”
“Yeah. He says he wonders whether you’re fit to be a mother.”
“So he’s going to take you on, is he?”
“Well, he didn’t exactly say that.”
“I bet he didn’t.”
“Oh, come on, Mum. Where’s your sense of humour?”
“You’re beginning to sound just like him.”
“Well, Trot likes a laugh. Nothing wrong with that.”
“Provided it’s at someone else’s expense.”
“I had to put you to bed,” Finn said.
“Finn, you took off my shoes. That hardly constitutes putting me to bed.”
“Sounds good, though, doesn’t it?” Finn grinned.
“No, it does not. And now, if you’ll just leave me alone, you could perhaps do some homework and I can finish this article.”
Aside from her adventure in the park with Mavis and Gabs, Alice was having problems at work. The colour supplement for which she worked was struggling, there had been several redundancies, and an increasing amount of work was being given to those who remained. Alice had hitherto written features, but now she found herself in charge of ‘Beauty’ as well.
“Beauty? I don’t know anything about beauty!” she’d said when her editor had informed her of the decision.
“Then find out. You’re a journalist. Finding out’s what journalists do. We’re all ha
ving to adapt.”
“But I like features. They’re what I’m good at,” Alice had wailed.
“That’s just as well, because you’ll still be doing features. These are difficult times, Alice. We’re all having to work harder. You’re lucky to have a job at all.”
So Alice was now officially Beauty Editor.
Beauty. Sucking her pencil, Alice reckoned that the very least of her readers probably knew more about beauty than she did, and no doubt cared more, too. She surveyed the pile of make-up samples that had been sent by various companies for her to try, and wondered what on earth she was supposed to do with them. She herself wore little make-up, relying on her clear complexion and nice eyes (she had been told that she had pretty eyes, and it suited her to believe it) to do the work for her. As for exfoliating and facial scrubs, she had never tried either.
Who did she know who might be able to help?
Within five minutes, she was on the phone to Gabs.
“I need help,” she told her.
“More weed?” suggested Gabs, who sounded in excellent spirits.
“No, definitely not more weed. But I need advice about make-up. I’ve got all these samples, and I have to write about them, and I haven’t a clue.”
“I’m your woman,” said Gabs. “Want me to come round?”
“Oh, would you?”
“Sure. No problem.”
“Haven’t you got — work?”
“Nearly finished.” There was a barking noise in the background.
“Have you got a dog?” Alice asked.
“Not exactly,” said Gabs. “That’s right, Gerald. Die for the queen. Good boy. Mummy’s on the phone. She won’t be a minute.”
“You have got a dog!”
“It’s complicated.” Gabs lowered her voice. “I’ll tell you later. Gotta go. I’ll be round in an hour.”
When Gabs saw all Alice’s samples, she was beside herself.
“You got all this stuff free? You lucky cow.” She picked up a lipstick. “D’you know how much one of these costs?”
“Well, I’ve got it written down somewhere.”
“Twenty-five quid! Twenty-five quid for a lipstick! Mind if I try it?”
“In a minute. I need to do this methodically. Now, cleanser. Would you mind having a go with this?”
“Sure.” Gabs sat down in front of the mirror and removed her make-up with a pinkish solution in a rather fetching woman-shaped bottle. “Mm. This is quite good. Not as good as mine, though. You got another?”
Alice handed her another. And another.
Then there were the foundations, the concealers, the blushers, the eyeliners.
“Are you writing about all this at once?” Gabs was applying navy eyeshadow, and Alice wondered idly why it was the women — herself included — always opened their mouths when applying eye make-up.
“Not all at once. This week it’s skincare. But if I watch you doing it and you try them all out, then I can make notes, and I won’t have to ask you back.”
“Oh, don’t worry about that. I’m happy to play with make-up anytime. You know, this would suit you.” She showed Alice a shimmery green eyeshadow. “Why don’t you give it a try?”
“Would you — I mean, would you mind showing me how to do it properly? I always just slap it on, but you do it so well.”
“Love to. Come and sit here where the light’s better.”
By the time Finn came home from school an hour later, Alice had been exfoliated, cleansed, and made up to Gabs’ satisfaction (and her own astonishment).
“I don’t believe I’m seeing this.” Finn leaned in the doorway, watching them. “First my mother gets stoned in the park, and now she and a friend are painting each other’s faces. Something to do with War and Peace, is it?” He sniggered. “War paint. Geddit?”
“Finn! Don’t be so rude!”
“Oh, I don’t mind.” Gabs winked at Finn, and Alice wondered whether her flirtatiousness was deliberate or whether she simply couldn’t help it. “Doesn’t your mum look great?”
“She’s okay. Would you — would you like a cup of tea?”
“Please. Isn’t he just the sweetest?” Gabs said when Finn had gone to make the tea.
“Only when he thinks there’s something in it for him,” Alice said.
“What a shame I’m not ten years younger.”
Alice thought it was a very good thing that she wasn’t but forbore to say so. She was fond of Gabs — it was difficult not to be — but she wouldn’t want her involved with Finn.
“Who — what was that dog I heard?” she asked as Gabs put the finishing touches to her face.
“That was a client.” Gabs applied a final layer of mascara to Alice’s lashes.
“You have a client who barks?”
“Yeah. That’s what turns him on.”
“And you don’t mind?”
“Why should I? He’s the one who’s paying. It’s his call.”
“I still don’t really understand why you do it, Gabs. There must be so many other jobs you could do.”
“None that pay as well, though. And I quite enjoy it. It makes the clients happy, and I’m not hurting anyone.”
“Except the wives.”
“You sound like Father Cuthbert. Anyway, the wives never find out. It’s not like you and your bloke. These guys don’t love me. Some of them think they do, but it never lasts. They soon get over it. And it gives their marriages a little boost. It’s a win-win, isn’t it?”
“I suppose so.”
“Each to her own, eh?”
Finn returned with a tray of tea (Alice didn’t know they even possessed a tray), and the conversation turned to more mundane things.
“You got a girlfriend?” Gabs asked him.
“Nope.”
“Good-looking boy like you — I’m surprised.”
Alice gave her a warning look.
“Okay, okay.” Gabs laughed. “I just hate waste.”
“Is there anything else I can get you?” Finn asked. “A biscuit?”
“No biscuit, thanks. Have to watch my figure,” Gabs said.
The cue for a compliment — had it been deliberate? — hung in the air but remained unanswered, and Alice was relieved. Apparently even Finn had his limits.
“What about you and Father Whatsit? How’s the plan going?” Alice asked when Finn had left the room.
“Augustine. Father Augustine.” Gabs sighed. “Not well. I’ve done all I can short of stripping off and showing him my assets.”
“So you’re giving up?”
“Oh no. I never give up.”
“Why doesn’t that surprise me?”
“Do I look that ruthless?”
“More — determined, I’d say. So, what are you going to do?”
“I’m going to bide my time. Not much else I can do, is there? But you mark my words, Alice. I’ll get there in the end. I always do.”
“What — always?”
“Yep. Always.” Gabs lay back on Alice’s bed and rested her head on her arms. “But for now, I’ve got other things on my mind.”
“Like what?”
“My sister’s pregnant.”
“Your holy sister?”
“That’s the one.”
“Goodness!”
“Quite. It seems to have been a sort of virgin conception. You could say it was a miracle, but not quite the kind Steph usually goes for.”
“Oh dear. What’s she going to do?”
“The silly cow’s going to have the baby.”
“And you don’t approve?”
“Nope. But it doesn’t matter what I think.” Gabs paused. “Did you ever think of — of not having Finn?”
“Oh yes.”
“But?”
“I guess I was a coward. And by the time I really faced up to it, it was getting a bit late.”
“And you don’t regret it?”
“Sometimes.” Alice laughed. “But no, I don’t regret it. And as i
t turns out, it was my only chance of motherhood. I never really thought about children before I had Finn, but I think I’d feel — impoverished now if I’d never had a child.”
“I’m not having kids,” Gabs said. “Far too much hassle.”
“Not even Father Augustine’s kid?”
“Ah. Father Augustine’s kid… That might be different. Especially if it had his eyes.”
“Gabs, you’re incorrigible.”
“So I’ve been told.”
Later on, when they were having their evening meal, Finn asked Alice why she and Gabs were friends.
“She’s so not your usual type,” he said.
“What is my usual type?”
“Oh, you know. A bit posh, interested in politics and things. Not sexy, like her.”
As it happened, Alice wasn’t particularly interested in politics, but she read the papers and watched Panorama, and that was probably what Finn meant. And it was true. Gabs certainly wasn’t the kind of person she would have made friends with in the usual way, but circumstances had thrown them together, and on the whole, Alice was grateful. The evening in the park had been a bit of a disaster, but no one had forced her to smoke or to drink so much. In retrospect, it had been quite fun, although she wouldn’t care to repeat the experience.
The following week, Alice had a date with Jay.
She had been dreading this, because by now Angela would have had her scan, and in spite of herself, she wanted to know all about it. It made no sense; it would be like poking a stick into a wound to see how much it would hurt, and she knew this was going to hurt a lot. But she also knew she had to do it.
They had been together for nearly an hour and were sitting chatting in Jay’s car when she finally asked.
“Well? How was the scan?”
“You really want to know?” There was a mixture of anxiety and relief in Jay’s voice.
“Of course I want to know. It’s a big part of your life. You can’t just keep everything about the baby — well, secret. After all, I tell you things about Finn.”
“Well, it’s the right size for the dates. All its organs appear normal. There are no problems.”
“And?”
“And what?”
“What is it? Boy or girl?”
“Oh, Alice! It’s a girl!” There was no mistaking the joy in Jay’s voice. “I didn’t know I wanted a girl until we found she was — is — a girl.”
Women Behaving Badly_An uplifting, feel-good holiday read Page 16
