Lipstick and Lies (26 page)

‘Adjusting to the impact
of a new addition?’ I smiled.

‘Cass!’ Ben rubbed
one
hand over his forehead and promptly winced.
‘Dear God.
It’s like World War Three in here.
Nothing I do is right.
And
Dylan’s playing up.
I’d have thought an eleven year old wouldn’t be resentful, bu
t guess I got that wrong too.’

‘I’m not jealous,’ a voice snarled.
I looked beyond Ben to see Dylan standing on the bottom stair.
His face was chalk-white, eyes puffy from crying.
Dylan was in the same class as Liv and Toby.
U
nlike my twins, puberty had paid an early visit.
A fine down of dark hair covered his upper lip.
He’d shot up almost overnight and was a good head taller than Toby
.
His
pyjama bottoms
were about
five inches too short.
He made an incongruous sight, the boy-man in his Star Wars
pyjamas
.

‘Hi Dylan,’ I pushed past Ben who closed the door after me.
‘What’s up?’
I watched as Dylan wrestled with his emotions.
He’d known me all his life.
We were very fond of each other.
But clearly he was struggling
to switch off the Rude Button.

‘
Y
ou’re no better than him!’ Dylan jerked his head towards his father.
‘Having babies,’ he enlightened me.
‘It’s disgusting.
I know all about sex Cass!
We’ve had the lessons at school.
There’s no way people of your age should be–’ Dylan floundered while his brain sought the appropriate
word to convey his revulsion.

‘Okay,’ I shrugged off my coat, ‘thanks for sharing your opinion Dylan.
Very thoughtful of you.
Meanwhile, where’s
Mum?’

‘Upstairs,’ Dylan spat, ‘trying to shove her tits in
to
Rosie’s mouth.’

‘Good God!’ I feigned shock.
‘It shouldn’t be allowed should it?
Whatever shall we do?’

‘Bu
y formula milk!’ Dylan howled.

‘Absolutely,’ I agreed.
‘And presumably you’d do the
same if Rocket had puppies?’

Dylan looked perplexed.
‘What are you talking about Cass?
Rocket is an animal.
It’s nature for m
ammals to suckle their young.’

‘So it is.
You’re absolutely right Dylan.
I’ll leave you with that thought while you make me a cup of coffee.
Oh, a
nd two Hob Nobs please.
The dinner I made earlier was absolutely
ghastly
and
I’m feeling somewhat peckish.’

I marched past Dylan and took the stairs two a
t a time.
I found Nell in the m
aster bedroom perched on the edge of the bed.
One of her boobs hung redundantly out of her nightie, rejected by Rosie.
Both mother and daughter were bawling heartily.
Next to the bed sat Rocket, a picture of trembling concern.
I was reminded of Nana, the dog from Peter Pan, gamely attempting to look after her family.
N
ell glanced up as I walked in.

‘I d-don’t
know what to do,’ she wailed.

‘Oh Nell.
You big silly.
Of course you know what to do.’
I went over to my friend and put an arm around her shoulder.
‘Put your boob away and let Rosie calm down.
Give her to me for a minute.’
I took the tiny infant from Nell.
Crumbs.
I’d forgotten how weeny a newborn was.
It made me realise how much Eddie had grown.
He was like a heffalump compared to Rosie’s fragility.
I placed the baby over my shoulder
,
and gently rubbed her back.
‘Hush little one, hush,’ I crooned.
Nell re-arranged herself
,
and then reached for some tissues by the bed.
She blew her nose noisily.

‘I’m bleedin’ knackered.
Ben’s absolutely useless at putting meals on the table.
He hasn’t even walked the d
og today.’

‘Well he is recovering from concussion Nell.
That cut looks nasty.
Couldn’t Dylan have taken Rocket out for you earlier on
,
after school?’

‘Dylan!’ Nell snorted.
‘
He’s too busy telling us how
disgusting
we are for
doing it
.
Like we’re dinosaur
s or something.’

‘But he must have known for ages you and Ben still
do it
– unless he’s spent the last nine months totally oblivious to your bump.
Did he seem upset abo
ut it when you were pregnant?’

‘No.
Not at all.
Quite the opposite.
He was delighted to be having a little brother or sister.
Kept telling me he couldn’t wait to help.
It’s so hurtful hearing him talking like this.
I can’t und
erstand what’s come over him.’

‘I’ll have a chat with him in a
minute
.
Meanwhile, your darling daughter has gone very quiet.’
I transferred Rosie into the cradling position and peered at her.
She was almost asleep.
‘Here.
Try putting her to the breast now.
See what happens.’

Nell took the drowsy infant.
Within seconds Rosie had latched on.
She began to suck contentedl
y.

‘You
’re a
geni
us!’ Nell gave a watery smile.

‘It’s a trick I used when Eddie was initially refusing to nurse.
I think sometimes anxiety can run high on both sides.
When they’re almost asleep, it removes the fretfulness.’
I smiled at the sight before me.
‘In six months time you’ll be begging my help on weaning.
Back in a bit.
Let me find your son.’

In fact I nearly tripped over Dylan as I left Nell’s bedroom.
Clearly he’d been ear-wigging.

‘You
r coffee’s ready,’ he growled.

‘Thank you.
Come on,’ I le
d the way, ‘we need to talk.’

‘I have nothing to say
to you
Cass.’

‘That’s fine.
But I have plenty to say to you
.’
I
steered Dylan into the kitchen.
‘Sit down.’

Dylan
sat
.
His
back
was
rigid
, jaw set
.
For a moment h
is face worked furiously
,
but he remained silent.
I could hear the football on in the lounge.
Ben had absented himself and was clearly wat
ching the same match as Jamie.

‘So,’ I dragged a stool out
and perched
opposite Dylan.
‘What’s it all about eh?’

‘What’s what all about?’ Dy
lan scowled.

‘Oh come on Dylan.
’
I took a sip of coffee
.
‘I’m talking about this attitude.
This,’ I gestured with one hand, ‘
anger
.
Why?
Only a few days ago you couldn’t wait to welcome the baby.
Said you wanted to push the buggy around the park.
Help Mum with nappies.
You even hinted at getting up in the night to Rosie – not that your mother
would allow that
, she doesn’t want you tired for school.
So what’s changed all that?’

Dylan
visibly
slumped
.
‘You don’t understand,’ he mumbled.
A tear suddenly rolled down one cheek.
It plopped onto the table.
He sniffed noisily.

‘Try me,’ I said gently.

Dylan took a deep breath.
‘I’m being teased.
At school.
Ridiculed.’

‘In what way?’
I was baffled.
Nobody had given the twins a hard
time when Eddie had been born.

‘It’s Richard Clegg.
The class bully.
He’s a prat.
He overheard me saying how I couldn’t wait to help Mum.
With the baby.
You know
– stuff
.
Like bathing Rosie.
I was talking to Katie Wells about it.
And Katie was being all girlie and saying things like, “How cute, I’m so jealous,” and then I told Katie that I’d saved up my pocket money and bought a teddy from Mothercare.
Next thing I know is Richard Clegg – on my way home from school – scooping up a load of wet leaves and shoving them down the back of my neck,’ Dylan took a shuddering gasp, ‘and there were some worms ca
ught up in the leaves Cass and–
’ he faltered.
Looked embarrassed.
‘I don’t like worms.
I went mental.’

‘What, mental as in punchin
g Richard Clegg’s lights out?’

‘No,’ Dylan looked ashamed
.
‘M
ental as in having a hissy fit like one of the girls.
I began screaming.
Grabbing at my back.
Trying to pull everything out, but too frightened to touch the leaves in case my hand came in contact with worms.’
Dylan paused.
His face wrestled with emotions while he str
uggled for composure.

‘Weren’t you walking with anybody?
Someo
ne who could have helped you?’

‘No
.
I was on my own.’

‘So what did you do next?’

‘I had no choice but to strip off down to my waist.
In front of all the passing traffic.
Richard Clegg thought it was hysterical.
He and his mates – the class Chavs – cracked up.
And now they all call me gay.
Tell me I’m like a big girl and want to be a Mummy because I bought something at Mothercare.
And he’s started calling Mum and Dad names.
Disgusting names.
Because they sti
ll,’ he broke off, ‘you know.’

‘H
ave a love life,’ I concluded.

Dylan nodded.
Studied his fingernails.
‘It’s embarrassing Cass.
I’m
embarrassed.
If Mum and Dad hadn’t had Rosie, if things had stayed as they were,’ he shrugged, ‘then I wouldn’t have been excited about it.
Wouldn’t have got caught out about Mothercare.
Wouldn’t have had muck shoved down my back or behaved like a cry-baby.
Wouldn’t n
ow be listening to daily filth–
’ he
broke off.
Steered the conversation down a different route.
‘Seeing Mum struggling to feed Rosie,’ Dylan closed his eyes, ‘just set Richard Clegg’s voice off in my head.
Horrible words.
I can’t tell you Cass.’

‘Do Livvy and Toby know about this?’ I asked.
‘Have
they seen you being bullied?’

‘No.
Nobody sees.
Apart from Richard Clegg’s mates.
He’s clever.
Picks his moments.
Makes it look like we’re having fun.
Being
boys
,’ he spat.

‘We
ll you must report him Dylan.’

‘I can’t do that.
It
would just make things worse.’

‘You must be twice the size of Richard Clegg.
Can’t you beat him up?’
Heavens Cass, what are you suggesting here?
I blanched.
Is this the sort of advice a sensible adult should be hand
ing out to an eleven year old?

‘I’d love to beat him up.
And yes I am miles taller than Richard Clegg.
But he’s wider.
And heavier.
He’d flatten me Cass.
Please don’t tell Mum about
it
.
She’d only worry.
Or Dad.
He’d tell the school and
then things would go nuclear.’