Lipstick and Lies (44 page)

‘Blimey,
’ I gave a wry smile, ‘
I thought World War Three only occurr
ed in my house.
’

‘I’m going bonkers here Cass.
I need to get out of these four walls.
Most babies have colic in the evening.
But Rosie seems to start in the morning and go on until lunchtime.
I can’t stay in listening to this
,
or I’ll go potty.’

‘I was going to suggest taking Rocket for a lovely long walk.
What
about we take the babies too?
Some fresh air and a stroll in her pram
might soothe Rosie.’

‘I’ll try anything.
How cold is it outside?’

‘Not too bad.
No rain, so that’s good.
Wrap her up warm.
She’ll be fine.
I’ll see you after the school run.
I’ll give Morag a ring and
see if she wants to join us.’

I
ended the call and then rang
Morag who
seemed to be having her own difficulties with
Henry.

‘I think he’s teething,’ she said
.
‘
H
e’s grumpy and grizzly
.
Not to mention producing more
dribbl
e
than Rocket.
Where shall I meet you?’

‘At Nell’s
,
in about
half an hour.’
The kids finally made their appearance and hopped in the car.
Doors slammed.
‘See you soon,’ I said to Morag before disconnecting.
‘What’s that fu
nny smell?’ I sniffed the air.

‘Oh no,’ groaned Livvy, ‘I hope it’s not Eddie.
He’ll make us late if
his nappy
needs changing.’

‘No
.
It’s
not a stinky smell.’
I sniffed again.
‘
It’s a
smoky smell
.’

‘I can’t smell anything,’ said Toby.
‘
Y
ou’re imagining things Mum.’

I gave a few more sniffs.
‘It’s gone now.
Oh well.
Right, are we ready?
Everybody got everything?
Good.
Let’s go.’

I reversed the car out of the drive
,
and pointed the bonnet towards
Boxleigh Grammar.

On the journey there was more talk of the delightful Diane Cooper
.
E
very boy in the school
apparently
wanted to date
her
.
I zoned out and cracked the window down a little bit.
Fresh air trickled in and I gulped at it greedily.
Wh
y was I feeling
so queasy?
As I drew up outside Boxleigh Grammar, Eddie
began to protest.
He was clearly unimpressed at his siblings piling out of the car and going off to school without him
.
By the time I pulled up at Nell’s, he was screaming his head off.
Morag’s car was already on the drive
,
but empty.
She was obviously inside the house.
I
carried Eddie – avoiding contact with his
wet
face
and
twin snot trails
– to
Nell’s front door.
It took several rings of the doorbell before Morag answered.
Henry was on her hip
and
parodying Eddie.
The sound of Rosie bawling her head o
ff filtered along the hallway.

‘Flaming Nora,’ Morag
rolled her eyes
, ‘what the heck’s the matte
r with our kids this morning?’

It was at times like this I was so glad we were all in it together.
Our husbands were good fathers, but
once they were at work they had
respite from teething, colic, tantrums and temperatures.
Morag stepped to one side
and
let me in.

‘Eddie’s having a paddy because his brothers and sisters have left him
,’ I said.
‘
I think he was enjoying listening to
the boys’
chat
-
up techniques over some girl they both like.
Perhaps
Eddie was making mental notes for when he falls in love with Rosie,’ I grinne
d and shut the door behind me.

‘Eddie is welcome to Rosie
,’ said Morag.
‘
With lungs
like
that
,
she’s going to make a
n excellent fishwife one day.’

‘Sti
ll feeling broody?’ I quipped.

‘Yes,’ Morag assured.

As we
pushed open the kitchen door
,
Rosie’s howls assaulted our eardrums.
Nell looked
like she was at her wits
’
end.
And Rocket,
in her basket
,
bore a look of long suffering.

‘Hello Cass,’ Nell shouted above the din
.
‘W
here shall we go?’

‘I think the park is the easiest option
.’
I
raised my own voice to answer.

‘Do you wan
t a coffee first?’ Nell asked.

My stomach
still felt fragile
.
‘No.
Maybe later.
Let’s take our brood out first.
A bit of stimulation and fresh air
,
and hopefully they’ll be shattered by the time we get back
.
Then
we can have a drink in peace.’

‘I’ll be hitting the gin at this rate,’ Nell threatened.
‘Pass me Rosie’s jacket Morag.
It’s behind you.
On top of the fridge.’

‘Naturally,’ said Morag handing her the tiny pink coat
.
‘
W
here else would
one put one’s baby’s clothes.’

‘Well we can’t all be domestic goddesses,’ Nell sniffed.
‘I’ll bet you have Henry’s wardrobe arranged in days of the week, colour coded, access
orised and in seasonal order.’

‘Of course,’ said Morag.
‘And then you can find what you’re wanting like that,’ she clicked her fingers.
‘I can’t be playing hide and seek with items.
And
why are Rosie’s bootees in Rocket’s basket?
’

Nell stopped posting Rosie’s arms in her coat and glanced at the basket.
‘Oh Rocket
.
Y
ou naughty girl,’ chided Nell.
She stooped down to retrieve the footwear.
‘You mustn’t take things that don’t belong to you.
Oh and look.
You’ve chewed one of them.
Mummy is very cross
.
’
Nell waggled her finger in the dog’s face.
Rocket had the grace to look ashamed.

‘
Surely you’re not going to put that bootee on Rosie’s foot!’
Morag looked repulsed.
‘It’s
been slobbered on by your dog.’

‘There’s nothing wrong with a bit of slobber
.
’
Nell looked
affronted
.
‘
It b
uilds up a baby’s immunity.’

Morag visibly shuddered.
‘Rather you than me.
Right, are we all ready?
I’ll just get
Henry’s pram out of the boot.’

‘Likewise
.
’
I followed Morag to the front door.

As winter walks went, it turned out to be a pleasant one.
The three of us wheeled
our babies along
,
enjoying the
scenery and bracing air
.
Henry had stopped crying.
Eddie was nodding off.
Only Rosie still grizzled, although her cries were softer now.
She was clearly exhausted.
We trundled along a path flanked by immaculately turned flower beds
, the earth
hiding thousands of bulbs.
Spring always brought a lovely show of daffodils along this section,
and it was a pleasure to watch golden
trumpets nodding in
a
warm breeze.
But right now it was chilly.
Towering oaks waved their bare branches, awaiting the emergence of green buds and acorns.
Rocket ran ahead, nose down
.
S
he meandered from side to side, seeking out squirrels.
Nell glanced inside Rosie’s pram.
The baby’s eyelids had flutt
ered shut.

‘Thank Gawd for that,’ Nell sighed.
‘I’m bleedin’ knackered.
I could do with pulling up on that park bench and going to sleep right here and now.
You look a bit worse for wear too Cass.
Did Eddie give you a bad night?’

‘On the contrary
.
’
I took in a lungful of fresh air.
Thankfully the earlier nausea was starting to recede.
‘
Since I actioned Morag’s sleep plan,
Eddie is sleeping like the proverbial log.
No, my sleep was i
nterrupted by something else.’

‘Ooh, I sense a sexy story coming on
.
’ Morag
momentarily removed her hands from the stroller handle of
Henry’s pram
.
She
clapped them together with glee.
‘So come on Cass.
Spill the beans.
C
an you beat my car sex story?’

‘Morag
,
I don’t need car sex to make my life complete,’ I tutted.
‘I’m quite happy with conventional sex
, preferably
in a double bed with a duvet ov
er my body and the light off.’

‘There’s nothing wrong with adding spice to one’s love life,’ Morag lectured.
‘Last night we had food sex.
It was a major turn on
.
A
nd scrumptious too.’

‘Don’t tell me,’ I sighed.
‘Sausage and chips in bed
– and
M
att’s todger was the sausage.’

‘Very good Cass
.
’
Morag nodded approving
ly.
‘
N
ow you’re letting your imagination flow.
Although you’re wrong
about the sausage and chips.’

‘So what food was invo
lved?’ asked Nell.

‘Melon,’ said Morag.

Nell and I glanced at each
.
‘
M
elon
?
’ we mouthed simultaneously.

‘We chopped
some
chilled melon into chunks
,’ said Morag.
‘Then,
in bed, Matt placed them over
different
parts of my
body
.
Juice ran over my
skin
, and
Matt licked it
all
off.
O
bviously two pieces of melo
n were impaled on my nipples.’

‘
Yes obviously,
’ I murmured.
I mean where else would one put melon?
God forbid
in
a
fruit
bowl.
Too boring for words.

‘I think I mi
ssed my vocation,’ said Morag.

‘What do you mean?’
I asked.

‘Instead of being a solicitor
,
I should have been a sex therapist.
I
think I
’d make a damn good counsellor
.
I can see me now, sitting in a swivel chair, tapping my pen against my teeth whil
st listening
to
a
couple lamenting about their boring sex life.
I’d soon have them breathing fun back into their relationship
.
Perhaps I should write a book on it,’
said
Morag thoughtfully.