‘Or,’ Hanan said. ‘How about The Bad Mothers’ Book Club?’
Emma grinned at her two friends. ‘Perfect!’
Chapter Thirty-Three
‘This is really nice,’ Sofia said, looking around the bar. It was the definition of modern rustic – untreated wood everywhere, metal framed seats, industrial lights hanging from fruit crates attached to the ceiling.
‘You haven’t been here before?’ Maggie asked her.
‘I usually go out in Liverpool,’ Sofia said. ‘With friends.’
‘Right.’ Maggie wondered what Sofia’s friends were like. Were they young? Was one of them more than a friend? What would they think of Maggie, if they ever met her? What were the chances that they ever would?
Maggie cleared her throat and took a breath. ‘Why did you suggest going out for a drink that time? By Marine Lake?’
‘I think you were lonely,’ Sofia said, shrugging a little. ‘It made me sad.’
Maggie nodded, her eyes prickling. ‘Things haven’t been good. At home. So … thank you.’
Sofia touched the back of Maggie’s hand with her index finger, gently. ‘You’re welcome.’
As they drank their wine, they talked – about their childhoods, about Poland, about films and kids and the beach and Sofia asked about Maggie’s pebble art – why she’d started making it, how she did it. Maggie admitted that she wanted to try making more, maybe even sell it in one of the local shops. It was the kind of thing that might go down well with both locals and day-trippers, but Maggie wasn’t sure she had the confidence to even try.
‘You should do it,’ Sofia said. ‘If it doesn’t work, what have you got to lose?’ She smiled. ‘Just pebbles?’
Maggie laughed. ‘You’re right. I just feel like … I’ve been Amy’s mum for so long and I can’t remember what it’s like to do things just for me.’
‘Ok,’ Sofia said. ‘I have an idea.’
She took out her phone and started tapping. ‘There’s a craft fair in Sefton Park next month. You could go there.’
‘Oh I don’t have time to make enough for that,’ Maggie said.
‘You don’t need to make many,’ Sofia said. ‘Just go and see. Research. You could take some for … I can’t think of the word. To show people?’
‘Samples?’
‘Yes! I think so!’ She beamed. ‘And I can come with you, if you wanted. For support?’
‘That sounds really good,’ Maggie said. ‘I hadn’t even thought about craft fairs. Thank you.’
Sofia shrugged. ‘I like your pictures.’
I like you, Maggie thought, but didn’t say.
Maggie was on her third glass of wine when she started thinking about kissing Sofia.
She couldn’t really – do it or want it – but she kept thinking about it. She watched Sofia’s mouth as she talked – she’d had lipstick on at the start of the evening – a deep pink – but most of it had worn away now, just a fine line under her bottom lip and a little more in the V of her top lip remained.
Maggie wanted to reach over and wipe it away with her thumb. Maybe she could. She could claim she’d spaced out and done it on instinct, like she would with Amy. She pushed her left hand under her thigh and picked up her wine with the other hand.
She wanted to tell Sofia she’d been thinking about her, that she’d dreamt about her (Sofia in her kitchen saying ‘I will think of another way to pay you’ and then taking off her clothes, the sunlight through the back window turning her skin gold until she shone so brightly that Maggie couldn’t even see her any more), that she’d been counting the days until this evening. But all of that would make it weird.
She didn’t want to make it weird.
‘Sorry I’m late.’ Hanan hung her coat on the back of a chair next to Emma. ‘Bet you thought I wasn’t coming, didn’t you?’
‘Nah,’ Emma said. ‘I’ve not been here long anyway. Can I get you a drink?’
While Emma was at the bar, Beth arrived and by the time Emma got back to the table with the drinks, they were both in fits of laughter. Beth was flicking through a book, her eyes zipping across the pages.
‘What book is it?’ Emma asked.
‘Lace.’ Beth held it up to show Emma.
The cover was garish and looked like something from the eighties: glossy red lips and nails, ribbons, a gold chain, even some shocking pink leopardskin.
‘I haven’t read it,’ Emma said. ‘But I’ve heard about it. There’s a bit with a—’
‘Goldfish,’ Hanan said. ‘Yeah, Beth just showed me.’
‘My mum had it when I was a kid,’ Beth said. ‘It was on her bedside table – it wasn’t this cover, it had four women on it, I think? Like a portrait maybe? – anyway, I used to sneak away and read it. Mostly just the dirty bits. And then I forgot to put it back one day and Mum found it in my room and hit the roof.’ She laughed. ‘It disappeared after that. Still haven’t read the whole thing.’
‘I never saw my mum read a book,’ Hanan said. ‘My dad read all the time – huge thick non-fiction mostly – but my mum was always cooking or rushing around after all of us. She read magazines sometimes, but never a book.’
‘Mine’s always reading,’ Emma said. ‘When I was little, we’d go to the library and spend ages choosing books for me and then she used to just grab a few for herself from the returned trolley, you know? Didn’t even read the back, she’d just take them home and read them, whatever they were.’
‘Did you bring a book?’ Beth asked Emma. ‘Hanan didn’t.’
‘The one I’m reading’s on my phone,’ Hanan said. ‘So I actually did.’
‘I didn’t,’ Emma said. ‘I thought this time we were going to decide on rules or whatever. And pick a book for next time.’
Hanan laughed. ‘I would actually like to read something though. Maybe we don’t need to have read something every time.’
‘We can work our way up to it,’ Beth said. ‘What rules were you thinking of?’ She poured herself and Emma some more wine.
‘Not like you-know-who’s,’ Emma said. ‘Just, like … Actually, I don’t know. I was going to say to make sure we read the books? But I didn’t manage that with Jools’s, so …’
‘What about no boring talk about our kids?’ Beth said. ‘Since I’m dead happy to be away from them. And what if we pick our favourite books to begin with? But it’s OK if we don’t like them. We have to promise not to get upset.’
‘Are we always going to meet in the pub?’ Hanan said. ‘Because I was going to suggest meeting at each other’s houses. Bit more relaxed. And cheaper.’
‘God,’ Beth said. ‘If you’re going to come to ours I’ll have to get a cleaner. One of the ones that blitzes the whole place. Deep clean.’
‘No,’ Emma said. ‘It’s meant to be fun, not stressful. We won’t judge.’
Beth laughed. ‘Put that in the rules then: no judging Beth’s messy house, particularly the big hole in the ceiling where the bath leaked, and the cat sick stain on the carpet.’
‘Done,’ Emma said.
‘So are your husbands home with the kids?’ Beth asked Emma and Hanan.
Hanan nodded. ‘He was reading to Mo when I left. Him and Yahya are going to watch a film. Probably Star Wars again, cos I won’t watch it with Yahya cos he’s seen it so many times.’
‘Is Paul working better hours now?’ Hanan asked Emma.
Emma pulled a face. ‘Not really, no. He got back on time tonight cos I told him I was going out, but he’s still late a lot. It’s part of his job though. He takes clients to dinner and shows and stuff. And he’s doing more at the minute cos he’s new and trying to establish himself, you know? Can’t really say no yet.’
‘Don’t you worry he’s shagging around?’ Beth asked. ‘That’s what I always think when Gaz works late.’ She didn’t wait for Emma to reply. Emma was glad. She drank some wine to attempt to loosen the sudden tightness in her chest. ‘I sometimes think I’d quite like Gaz to have a bit on the side,
’ Beth continued. ‘When he’s doing my head in. I think it’d be quite nice for him to just … go away. And, you know, get some. And then he could come home and we could cuddle without him wanting sex.’
Hanan laughed. ‘Not really though?’
‘I don’t know,’ Beth said. ‘For a while it was like I was always saying no to him. I’ve got people crawling over me all day, you know? I haven’t had a poo on my own for about four years.’
‘Why do they go in the bathroom with you?’ Hanan asked. She looked genuinely confused.
‘They just do, Hanan,’ Beth said, picking up her wine. ‘I can’t keep them out.’
‘Doesn’t your bathroom have a lock?’ Hanan looked appalled.
Beth shook her head. ‘Flora locked herself in there when she was a toddler, so we took it off.’
‘Oh I wouldn’t like that,’ Hanan said.
Beth laughed. ‘I don’t like it either. Every time I try to have a bath, one of them gets in with me. And then quite often poos.’
‘Oh god!’ Hanan covered her face with both hands.
‘Once,’ Emma said. ‘When Ruby was little, we went to a wedding in this, like, country house hotel. In Kent. There was a jacuzzi in the room. So as soon as we got there, we all stripped off and got in and after about five minutes, Ruby, you know, went. And we all had to get out.’
‘Obviously,’ Beth said, pouring herself more wine.
‘And I said …’ Emma started to laugh. ‘“Can’t we even have a jacuzzi without someone shitting in it?’’’
The other two women joined her laughter.
‘We’d never even tried a jacuzzi before,’ Emma said. ‘Where would we? But I was outraged. Paul still says it sometimes. If I’m freaking out about something ridiculous.’
‘It’s hard, isn’t it, when they’re small,’ Beth said. ‘Particularly with your first. Everything feels so dramatic. I remember crying once cos Gaz picked up Flora’s dummy with his fingers. I was sobbing, I’d told him so many times about sterilising stuff. I was dead paranoid. I told the health visitor and asked what would have happened if I hadn’t seen him. And she said, oh, she’d probably just have a dicky tummy. A dicky tummy! I thought all this shit was going to kill her! No, a dicky tummy. Which she had all the bloody time anyway cos she was a baby!’
Hanan phoned home to check on Mohammed, so Emma took the opportunity to get another bottle of wine and Beth nipped to the loo.
‘Guess who’s round the corner by the fire,’ Beth said when she got back.
‘Not Jools?’ Emma whispered.
She’d managed to avoid her at school – standing with Beth or Hanan at the opposite end of the playground, hanging back if she saw Jools and Eve walking to their cars. Once, she’d been about to go into the coffee shop opposite Morrisons, but she spotted Jools through the window and so detoured to Saucer instead. It made her feel ridiculous. But she really didn’t want another confrontation. And she just didn’t know how to talk to Jools after what had happened.
‘Nope,’ Beth said. ‘Close though. Sofia. With Maggie.’
‘Ooh,’ Hanan said, leaning closer. ‘You don’t think she’s trying to poach her?’
‘She wouldn’t dare,’ Beth said. ‘Jools would flip her shit. Maggie would be ostracised.’
‘Well,’ Emma said. ‘I shouldn’t tell you this …’
‘Oh my god, you’ve got gossip!’ Beth shrieked. ‘I knew you did! I can’t believe you haven’t told us!’
‘Go on,’ Hanan said.
‘Maggie’s husband is having an affair with Eve.’ Her stomach churned again just at the word ‘affair’ but she pushed it down with more wine. ‘Maggie had a go at her at book club.’
‘Holy shit,’ Beth breathed.
‘You can’t tell anyone!’
‘I wouldn’t!’ Beth said, affronted.
‘I don’t even talk to anyone else,’ Hanan said.
‘You don’t, do you?’ Beth said.
Her eyes were starting to look unfocused and Emma squinted at the wine to see how much was left. There was probably another glass each in it.
‘I’m sorry I never talked to you before Emma came,’ Beth told Hanan. ‘It wasn’t cos you’re, like, Muslim or anything, honest. You just never looked like you wanted to talk to anyone!’
‘That’s OK,’ Hanan said. ‘It’s because I tried talking to people when Yahya first started and it was just … weird. They’d talk to me like I didn’t speak English or get me to repeat my name over and over.’ She said ‘Ha-na-n’ in an exaggerated manner. ‘I mean, it’s not that hard, is it? So then I just stopped bothering.’
‘People are dicks,’ Emma said. Her mouth felt a bit weird. She probably shouldn’t have the last glass of wine. She picked up the bottle.
‘They really are,’ Beth agreed.
‘But I am very glad you talked to me that day,’ Emma told Hanan.
‘Oh well we both got called in to see the teacher!’ Hanan said. ‘So I had to.’
‘And I’m very glad,’ Emma started and then stopped. Her lips felt too big for her face. That was weird. ‘I’m very glad you talked to me too. Beth.’
Beth laughed. ‘We’re all glad. I think we can all agree on that. And I think it’s probably time to get you home.’
When Maggie and Sofia left the pub, the sun was just starting to set, the sky was already a deeper blue and Maggie could see the golden glow of the sun at the bottom of the hill.
‘Are you walking back?’ Maggie asked Sofia.
‘I think so,’ Sofia said. ‘Maybe along the promenade. I like to see the sunset.’
‘Me too.’ Maggie had to get home, but she really didn’t want the evening to end. They walked down the hill, Sofia talking about a weekend she’d had in Rome before she’d started working for Jools. Maggie pictured herself there with Sofia. Sitting in a square, drinking coffee and eating pastries. Or with wine and pizza. Holding hands under the table and trying to speak a little Italian. The kind of thing she’d never do with Jim. Her belly fluttered at the idea.
By the time they reached the prom the sky had darkened to almost purple, the sun shining gold across the ridged sand.
‘Do you have to be home now?’ Sofia asked.
‘I’ve got a little time,’ Maggie said, even though she really should have been getting back. ‘Why?’
‘I like to walk on the sand.’ Sofia was already kicking her shoes off so Maggie sat on a rock to pull off her Converse. The sand was cold and Maggie stood for a second, letting her skin adjust.
Sofia took a few steps towards Hilbre Island and then turned in a slow circle, her arms spread out to the sides, her face turned up to the sky.
Maggie wanted to kiss her. She really wanted to kiss her.
Sofia turned to look at Maggie and said, ‘I want to run! Do you want to run?’
‘Always,’ Maggie thought.
She glanced up from Sofia’s lips to find Sofia looking back at her, eyes wide and bright and crinkling at the corners as she smiled.
‘I think,’ Sofia said, her voice low. ‘You’re thinking about kissing me.’
‘Oh my god,’ Maggie breathed. She felt like her breath was trapped behind her breastbone, like she was underwater and needed to struggle to the surface. ‘I was,’ she said. ‘I am.’
‘So?’ Sofia tilted her head to one side.
Maggie frowned. ‘Are you serious?’
‘Of course. That would be a terrible joke.’ She reached out and touched Maggie’s arm, so quickly that Maggie wasn’t certain she hadn’t imagined it.
Maggie stared at her. The freckles on her cheekbone, the tiny turn up at the end of her nose, the V of her top lip.
‘I want to,’ Maggie said. ‘But I don’t think I can.’
Sofia smiled again. ‘Why not?’
‘I’m scared. And I’m married.’
Sofia nodded. ‘But you’re not happy. And I think sometimes you have to jump.’
Maggie pictured herself on a boat on holiday a
few years ago looking down into the clear water where some other tourists were already swimming, having leapt with a shout from the top of the ladder, screaming as they hit the chilly water. Maggie had considered it and then lowered herself down the ladder.
‘Not today,’ Maggie said, her voice small.
Sophia nodded. ‘OK. But one day.’
Maggie tipped her head back and looked up at the sky. There was a sliver of moon she hadn’t noticed earlier. ‘One day,’ she agreed.
Chapter Thirty-Four
‘Do you want me to come with you?’ Eve asked, leaning into Jools’s side.
The two women were sitting on the swing at the bottom of Jools’s garden, looking back towards the house. Jools stared at the balcony off her and Matt’s bedroom and thought about how it was what had sold the house to her. She’d already been most of the way there, but when she saw the balcony, that was it, she had to have it. She’d pictured herself drinking coffee there in the morning or wine in the evening, her legs stretched out, feet up on Matt’s lap. (She’d also thought about sex out there, but that hadn’t happened as often as she’d hoped – Matt was worried about being overlooked.)
‘No. Thanks. Matt’s coming.’
‘I would hope so. But I thought you might want me too.’
Jools laughed, dipping her head onto her friend’s shoulder. ‘Are you worried he’ll be too nice?’
‘Yep. I want to be there in case there’s some ass that needs kicking.’
‘It’ll be fine. It’s all really straightforward. I’ll be home the next day.’
‘That’s ridiculous,’ Eve said. ‘They chuck your tit in the bin and send you on your way?’
‘Lovely way with words,’ Jools said, laughing. ‘But yeah, basically. I’ll have a drain in a little bag and then I just go back to get the dressing changed.’
‘Little bag? Do they have Marc Jacobs?’
Jools giggled. ‘No. But I did think about trying to find something on eBay. It might get ruined though. With boob juice.’
‘Right, you’re knocking me sick now, princess,’ Eve said. ‘I don’t mean to be unsympathetic, but let’s never speak of your boob-drain again.’
The Bad Mothers’ Book Club Page 18
