The Bad Mothers’ Book Club

by Keris Stainton

  ‘Remember that time—’

  ‘Sorry,’ Paul said. ‘Got to go.’

  He dipped his head and kissed her quickly on the mouth before leaning over and brushing his lips over Ruby’s forehead.

  ‘Have a good day, angel.’

  ‘You too,’ Emma said.

  ‘I was talking to …’ he started to say and then he smiled. ‘Have a good day, Em.’

  ‘You too. Love you.’

  ‘Love you too.’ But he was already almost out of the door.

  Emma rolled over and cuddled up against her sleeping daughter.

  ‘Did Daddy go?’ Ruby mumbled.

  ‘Yeah,’ Emma said. ‘He did.’

  Chapter Thirty

  Maggie was dreading book club. Actually dreading it. It had never exactly been fun, but she’d always been OK with going, even if just to get out of the house, but since she’d found out Eve was fucking her husband, she was dreading it. It had been awful last time and she couldn’t believe she was going to put herself through it again. But what was the alternative? Unless she was willing to explode everything and she just wasn’t. She wasn’t brave enough.

  She’d asked Jim if he’d told Eve that she knew, but he wouldn’t even talk to her about it. He wouldn’t talk about moving out either. He was acting like none of it had happened. Which was how he’d always dealt with disagreements and Maggie had always let him get away with it, but she wasn’t going to this time, she was sure. Almost sure.

  She thought about not going to Jools’s, but she didn’t want to stay at home with Jim either, and Nick had fully moved out now, to a small flat in the Georgian Quarter in Liverpool. Maybe she should get dressed and head out as usual and just go to the pub. The Viking. Or the place Amy had her birthday that Maggie could never remember the name of – they roasted marshmallows at the table and had a cinema room for the kids. Maggie wondered if she could buy a jug of margarita and take it into the cinema room by herself. Probably not.

  Maybe she should go over to Liverpool. See a film. Or go to the theatre. Or just sit in a coffee shop or bar by herself and have some time to think. She wasn’t sure she was ready to think yet. Because if Jim did move out, she didn’t know how she would manage.

  She knew she’d end up going to book club as always, knew she wasn’t brave enough to do anything else yet. But she felt something stirring, could imagine that one day she could have a different life. Just not today.

  She decided to walk so she could have a drink and on the way stopped off at Morrisons to pick up a bottle of her favourite wine to take with her. The image of her throwing the wine over Eve flashed into her head and she almost laughed – she hoped Eve was wearing one of her crisp white shirts – but she knew she’d never do it. At least she didn’t think she’d ever do it, but then she wouldn’t have thought she’d punch a stranger in a car either.

  She grabbed the wine and headed towards the checkout, stopping to glance at the cover of one of the weekly magazines on the stand at the end of the queue. Someone bumped into her from behind and a woman’s voice said ‘Oops!’

  Maggie turned to find Sofia with an enormous bag of Kettle Chips in her arms.

  ‘Hi,’ Maggie said, her stomach fluttering again. ‘Stocking up for the apocalypse?’

  Sofia laughed. ‘Jools sent me out for them and they only have these giant bags. I’m not sure if it’s better to go back with this or nothing at all.’

  ‘Tricky one,’ Maggie said. ‘I’m trying to think if there’s anywhere else, but …’

  ‘I don’t think anywhere else is open,’ Sofia said. She hoiked the bag up in her arms. ‘Ah well. I’ll take a chance.’

  Maggie paid for her wine and then Sofia the toddler-sized bag of crisps and they both headed outside into the car park.

  ‘Did you drive?’ Maggie asked.

  Sofia shook her head.

  ‘Me neither. It’s such a nice night, I wanted to walk.’ She didn’t mention how she also wanted to get drunk. Or how she’d been fantasising about not going at all.

  ‘Do you walk on the main road or the prom?’ Sofia asked.

  ‘Prom?’ Maggie said. They were already heading that way anyway. It was clearly so much nicer, particularly at this time in the evening when the sun was setting and turning the sky pink and orange and red and the seagulls were gliding over marine lake and the river.

  They didn’t even talk. They just walked, looking out over the water at the colours painting the sky. Every time Maggie looked at Sofia, Sofia was looking back at her, a small smile on her lips. The setting sun edged her outline in rose gold and Maggie wanted to take a photo she could keep for ever.

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Emma felt much more confident in her new dress and boots. She didn’t expect to be quite as glamorous as the other women – she wasn’t sure she’d ever be as glamorous as Jools or Eve – but she’d got a lot closer than last time. The only problem was that she hadn’t read the book. Again. She didn’t know what was wrong with her, she just couldn’t seem to concentrate for long enough. She’d watched the film though. And looked up discussion questions online, so she didn’t think it would be a huge problem. And she’d decided to walk so she could maybe have one extra drink and loosen up enough to perhaps make friends of these women. One or two of them, at least. Maybe just Maggie.

  She’d seen them at the school gates since the last book group, of course, but not one of them had spoken to her, not properly, not even Maggie. They’d all acknowledged her – a nod or a smile or even just a look where they would have looked away before – but that was it. No hellos. No chats. No invitations for coffee. It was weird. But she had to remind herself that they probably all had stuff going on too.

  The manicured hedge that bordered Jools’s garden was strung with twinkly white lights. Emma stopped for a moment, wondering if they could possibly be Christmas decorations, but no. It was only early November.

  ‘We put them up for Halloween and the girls insisted we leave them,’ a voice said.

  Emma turned and saw Jools’s husband, Matt, climbing out of his silver sports car.

  ‘Oh hey,’ she said. She nodded at the hedge. ‘They look good.’

  ‘How are you?’ he asked, crossing the gravel driveway. ‘Nice to see you again. How’s Paul?’

  ‘He’s good,’ Emma said, even though she’d only seen him for a few minutes before she had to leave to get to book club on time. ‘But you know that. You’ve seen him more than I have lately.’

  ‘Hey, not me,’ Matt said, laughing as he opened the front door. ‘I haven’t seen him since we went out for dinner.’

  ‘Yeah, that’s what I’m saying,’ Emma said. ‘Last week. Paul and I were meant to be going out and then you stole him away from me.’

  Matt shrugged. ‘Nope. Not guilty. I haven’t seen him since the four of us had dinner: me and you and Paul and Jools.’

  Emma frowned. Paul had definitely said Matt Jackson, she knew he had.

  ‘Ah,’ she said. ‘I must have got the wrong end of the stick.’

  ‘No worries,’ he said, pushing open the front door.

  Matt called out to Jools as soon as they were inside the house and she appeared almost instantly. She was wearing a velvet jumpsuit the colour of red wine with leopard print trainers. Emma immediately felt both over-dressed and frumpy.

  ‘You look amazing,’ she told Jools.

  Jools looked down at herself, smiling. ‘Thank you!’ She looked Emma up and down and said, ‘You look nice too.’

  Nice. Great.

  ‘Hey, babe,’ Matt said, pulling Jools towards him and kissing her on the mouth. Jools grinned at him, nuzzling into the side of his neck before smacking his arse as he headed for the stairs.

  Emma followed Jools through to the back room. Only Maggie and Flic were there so far, sitting on opposite sofas just like last time. Emma assumed they all sat in the same positions each time. Like school. They were both much more casually dressed than last time too. Was there a dress
code memo she wasn’t getting?

  ‘Gin?’ Jools asked Emma and she nodded, even though she hadn’t actually been listening. She’d been thinking about what Matt had said; he hadn’t been with Paul. Paul had gone out and come home and fucked her like they’d never fucked before. So where had he been? Who had he been with? Emma swallowed hard, blinking back tears. She couldn’t think about it now. She had to get through book club. And once again she hadn’t read the book.

  ‘Amy was asking when Ruby can come over again,’ Maggie said.

  ‘Any time,’ Emma said. ‘They seem to really like each other.’

  Maggie nodded. ‘It’s worked out well.’

  ‘Violet too,’ Emma said, as Jools came back into the room.

  ‘What about her?’ Jools asked.

  ‘In a little gang with Ruby, Amy and Flora.’

  ‘They just need one more and they can be the Spice Girls,’ Maggie said.

  Jools laughed and Emma stared at her. She wasn’t sure she’d actually seen her laugh before.

  Emma suspected she’d drunk the first gin a bit too quickly. Jools seemed to be topping her up before the other women had even started on their drinks. She couldn’t stop thinking about Paul. About where he might have been if he hadn’t been with Matt Jackson. They could hear Matt and the children playing upstairs. The girls giggling wildly. Matt laughing and occasionally shouting encouragement.

  ‘I hope they’re not jumping on the bed,’ Jools said. She looked fond, Emma noticed. She’d never really paid much attention to how Jools interacted with her daughters at school, but her face looked much softer now, as she talked about them.

  ‘I’m always telling him they’ll break it,’ Jools said. ‘But he doesn’t care. He’s worse than they are.’

  She smiled at Emma and Emma squinted back at her. Was she wearing false eyelashes? Emma was pretty sure she was. Who wore false eyelashes in their own home? For book club?! Or what had Beth said? Extensions?

  ‘So what’s new with you?’ Jools asked.

  ‘My boots!’ Emma said, swinging one foot in the air. Unfortunately, it connected with Jools’s glass, knocking it into the hearth, where it both smashed and soaked the dove grey carpet with the orange contents.

  ‘Oh my god!’ Emma said. ‘I’m so sorry!’

  ‘Don’t worry about it,’ Jools said, standing, but her mouth was set in a straight line. ‘Accidents happen.’

  ‘I’ll get it,’ Eve said, dropping her hand on Jools’s shoulder and then heading out of the room. Jools sat down and for a second looked, to Emma, weary, like she was only just holding it together. Then she blinked and smiled and was back to her usual self.

  When Eve came back, Matt was with her, carrying a dustpan and brush and a hand-held vacuum, a cloth over his shoulder. Emma noticed every single other woman in the room sit up straighter at the sight of him. But she couldn’t judge, since she’d sucked her stomach in too.

  ‘You didn’t need to come down, babe,’ Jools said. ‘It’s just a broken glass.’

  ‘I was down anyway,’ Matt said. ‘Violet wanted a glass of milk.’

  Eve sat back on the sofa as Matt crouched down – Emma tried not to look at the way his grey joggers stretched over his perfectly-shaped arse – and brushed up the glass, sucked up the spilled drink with the vacuum, and dropped the cloth over the whole area. When he stood up again, he quickly pressed a kiss to Jools’s forehead before smiling at everyone and disappearing again.

  What, Emma thought to herself, the fuck?

  Was Jools incapable of brushing up a bit of glass herself? Had Eve called him as if he was a member of staff? And why hadn’t he just told her to do it herself, like Paul would have done? Emma wasn’t sure she’d ever met anyone quite as spoiled as Jools.

  Flic had chosen the book and so Flic led the discussion. Her first question was why had Bendrix and Sarah fallen in love? Was it because something was missing in their lives? And what was the purpose of the affair? Was it sex? Or were they looking for love? Understanding? As the other women talked, Emma tried to formulate some sort of argument, but her mind was blank. Did that explain the lube? Had Paul bought lube to use with someone new? She felt sick. Actually she really did feel sick. She probably shouldn’t drink anything else.

  ‘Emma?’ Jools said.

  Emma blinked at her. Something about what they got from the affair. Right. She swigged some gin.

  ‘I think that she – Sarah – I think she’s looking for something. But she’s not entirely sure what. Or she doesn’t want to admit it to herself even. The part where Julianne Moore—’ Shit.

  ‘Sorry?’ Jools said.

  Shit.

  ‘Julianne Moore?’ Jools said.

  Emma felt like she was back at school. Everyone else in the room was silent. They could still hear the children giggling upstairs and Emma suddenly wanted to giggle herself. She’d definitely had too much gin.

  ‘Sorry,’ she said. ‘I mean Sarah. The part where Sarah—’

  ‘You didn’t read the book?’ Jools asked.

  ‘Um,’ Emma said. This wasn’t school, she reminded herself, she was a grown woman. She didn’t have to read the book. ‘No. Sorry. I mean, I started it. But I just didn’t get a chance—’

  ‘OK!’ Jools said, brightly. ‘Maggie! What did you think of the book?’

  Emma opened her mouth and closed it again. She wanted to argue. To explain why she hadn’t read it. But what difference did it make? She hadn’t read it. And Jools had moved on. So she thought Emma was useless? So what? Jools was the one who’d invited her to this group. It wasn’t as if Emma was particularly invested.

  She realised she was shrugging her shoulders and she forced herself to relax and listen to Maggie, who didn’t seem to have much to say about the book either, but at least she’d actually read it.

  ‘It made me think about affairs a bit …’ Maggie said, hesitantly. ‘About how easily they can happen. And about how sometimes people tolerate them because they don’t see an alternative.’

  ‘I’ve been thinking about that too,’ Emma said. Her mouth felt dry from the gin. ‘Do you ever wonder? If your … partner …’ She wasn’t sure all the women had husbands.

  ‘I don’t,’ Jools said, confidently. ‘We talk about it a lot. Because it’s so common with footballers. Women throw themselves at Matt all the time. But I trust him.’

  Emma rolled her eyes before she could stop herself.

  ‘I don’t think they have to be a big deal,’ Eve said. ‘It’s just sex. It’s different if you fall in love with someone.’

  ‘Are you in love with my husband?’ Maggie asked.

  Emma looked from Maggie to Eve, whose mouth was set in a straight line.

  ‘Mags—’ Jools said.

  ‘Oh don’t Mags me,’ Maggie said. ‘You knew about it. You’re supposed to be my friend. And you’re cool with this bitch fucking my husband.’

  ‘Look,’ Eve said, shuffling to the edge of her seat and leaning on her knees to get closer to Maggie. ‘I’m sorry. I didn’t know who he was to begin with.’

  ‘To begin with?’ Maggie let out an inappropriate bark of laughter. ‘Oh that’s fine then. I apologise. Carry on.’

  Emma glanced at the other women, who were looking back at Maggie. No one spoke.

  ‘You can have him,’ Maggie said, her voice tight. ‘I don’t want him. I asked him to go, but he won’t. So come and take him. Help yourself.’

  Emma pictured Paul bending her over the bed. Bending someone else over a bed. And bile rose in her throat.

  ‘Can I use your loo?’ Emma managed to croak out.

  Jools frowned. ‘Let me just—’ she said, gesturing for Emma to follow her into the kitchen.

  The kitchen was just as impressive as Emma had expected. Glossy white units, black and white tiled floor, huge window overlooking the garden. One wall was covered with kids’ drawings, which Emma was surprised by. And then she rolled her eyes at herself, as if Jools was so glossy she didn’t lov
e her own children. Jools had disappeared down a corridor at the corner of the kitchen, but she came back and said, ‘All good. You know what kids are like for flushing.’

  ‘Oh god, yeah,’ Emma said, heading for the bathroom. ‘My loo’s always disgusting.’

  Why had she felt the need to say that? she asked herself, as she locked the bathroom door behind her. It was true that Sam rarely flushed, but their bathroom was still generally clean. Ish. Most of the time. Jools’s bathroom, however, was spotless. Emma couldn’t imagine what Jools had been checking on since she wouldn’t have been surprised if she was the first person ever to use it. The white towels were folded and hanging neatly on a heating rack, even the soap on the side of the basin looked brand new. Emma peed, washed her hands, checked and double-checked that her skirt wasn’t tucked into her tights and then reapplied her lipstick, looking in the huge ornate-framed mirror.

  She shouldn’t have any more gin. Her vision was blurring slightly so she knew she’d definitely had enough already. She’d realised years ago that going to the loo was always a good barometer of how drunk she was – she couldn’t seem to tell when she was in the thick of things, but once she was alone … Although she didn’t think she’d had that much. Had she? She was probably dehydrated. And she hadn’t eaten much all day.

  Dropping her lipstick back into her bag, she tried to turn the door handle, but it wouldn’t budge. She took a step back and stared at the door as if there was another way to open it that she’d forgotten about in the last two minutes. No. Still just the handle. She tried it again, but it didn’t turn at all. She tried it clockwise in case there was some trick to it, but no. It was definitely stuck.

  ‘Fucknuggets,’ she said, resting her forehead on the wood.

  She waited to see if someone would notice she’d been a while and come and get her, but when no one did she knocked and shouted. ‘I’m stuck in the bathroom!’ It was horribly embarrassing. And then she remembered her phone. She could text Jools and tell her.