Vintage Babes (28 page)

The little girl giggled, then became serious. ‘I want to see my daddy. I want to give him a big hug and a big kiss. The biggest hug ever and the biggest kiss ever.’

‘You will see him,’ I said. ‘Very soon. I promise.’

‘Cross your heart and hope to die?’

‘Cross my heart –’

‘You have to do it.’

I made the cross. ‘Cross my heart and hope to die.’

Beth clasped her teddy, stuck her thumb into her mouth and turned on her side. Already her eyelids were drooping. ‘Night, night, Gran.’

Kissing her again, I tucked the bed clothes up around her. ‘Night, night, my darling.’

Determined to move mountains, part oceans, talk sense into my pig-headed daughter, I marched down to the living room. To hell with not interfering. To hell with letting other people make their own mistakes. To hell with being a know-all. And never mind if I was late at Jenny’s.

‘You have to arrange for Beth to see Justin,’ I said. ‘You must. If you don’t then I shall –’

‘A meeting is fixed for Saturday afternoon.’

‘It is?’

‘While you were upstairs, I rang him. Beth has been going on and on about how much she misses him, so the three of us are going to Harley’s farm park.’

‘What time?’ I asked, thinking that Tom had said he would arrive between two-thirty and three.

‘Justin’s picking us up at two-fifteen.’

‘What time will you be home?’

‘Around four-thirtyish, I guess. Why?’

‘Just wondered. You and Justin could bury the hatchet?’ I suggested, daring to hope.

‘Not a chance! I’m meeting him because Beth is desperate to see him and he wants to see her, but that’s all.’

‘The two of you need to sit down and have a frank and honest discussion,’ I told her, ‘and don’t roll your eyes. Incredible though it may seem, there are times when mother does know best. Part of the problem when your dad and I split was that we didn’t talk. Not in any depth. I never asked what was so lacking in our relationship that he’d felt a desire for someone else. Or if there was a way we could’ve improved things. And afterwards I tried so hard to think if there was something I’d missed. Any signs of your father’s dissatisfaction.’

Lynn frowned. ‘And?’

‘I couldn’t come up with anything. Anything serious. We’d had our grumbles with each other, the occasional ding-dong argument, but everyone does.’ I went to close the door. I didn’t want the sound of our voices to carry upstairs and disturb Beth. ‘I know he’d met Kathryn and she was younger and prettier and a much better cook –’

‘She isn’t prettier. Never was, and the last time I saw her she’d put on quite a bit of weight. Sticky-out tum and too fat thighs for the satin trousers she was wearing. Sumo wrestler thighs.’

I smiled. Whenever Lynn criticises her stepmother, it is music to my ears. A ha-ha-ha! concerto. But the slick chick had had no qualms about sleeping with my husband. She had shown not the slightest remorse at trashing a marriage. So many times I had imagined how she must have pinpointed him and gone for him. Zoom! like an Exocet. She was the original scheming bitch.

‘But when your dad first told me about her, I should’ve said that if he fancied someone younger and –’ I paused ‘– moderately pretty, who laughed at all his jokes, it worked two ways. That I’d like to come home to a tall, dark, handsome and adoring stud who strolled around stripped to the waist.’

Lynn grinned. ‘With a six-pack torso and giant-sized prick?’

‘You got it.’

‘But now you wish you’d tried to work things out?’

‘Yes. I was stupid in that I gave up, gave in too easily. Far too easily. I should’ve begged and pleaded to save our marriage. Grovelled.’

‘Grovelling sounds out of character.’

‘Maybe, but I should’ve pointed out that in divorce everyone is a loser, and they are. Your dad lost out financially in that he had to support you, me and his new family. You suffered in that you were without a father around the house and also had to move house, leaving your friends behind.’

‘I soon made new ones.’

‘Yes, but it was an upheaval you could’ve done without. As for me –’ I shrugged ‘– I missed the bastard so much. Missed him for years.’

‘Even though Dad had cheated on you, you still cared about him?’

‘For ages and deeply. Insane, yes? But what I’m trying to say is that all relationships need perseverance. And all relationships have their ups and downs. So don’t rush into ending things with Justin. Please, please think it over. Think of how you’ve always got on so well together and been so happy. How delighted you both were when you realised you were pregnant. How he’s a demon in bed.’

Lynn laughed. ‘I’ve never told you that.’

‘You didn’t need to. But think –’

‘You’re going to start singing ‘Always Look on the Bright Side’,’ she said.

‘I’m tuning up. But think of Beth and how you and Justin separating will affect her. Think of everything.’

‘I will.’ My daughter was silent for a moment, then she fixed me with a speculative look. ‘You’ve never shown any real interest in any man since Dad. Not long-term interest. Do you think you ever will?’

I hadn’t told her about my two brief relationships, though I’m not sure why. Maybe because I’d sensed from the start that neither of them was destined to survive, maybe because I was afraid she might consider the notion of me being keen on sex at my great age was tacky, or maybe because I’d wanted her to believe I was forever faithful to her father. Freudian, that.

‘Don’t know, but if I did would you mind?’

‘No. Why should I? In fact, I’d be delighted. But shouldn’t you start looking? Time’s passing, Mum, and –’

‘Not you, too,’ I complained. ‘People, usually women, are forever trying to pair me off.’

‘You know why? They think you’re out there living it up in the fast lane and they’re afraid you might steal their husbands.’

‘I very much doubt that,’ I said, though it was a new idea. I collected my shoulder bag. ‘I’m off. Don’t wait up.’

Could my unattached status make other women feel threatened? I wondered, as I climbed into my car. I’d never considered myself a
femme fatale
nor aggressively flirted with ‘other halves’
,
yet might they want me settled down because then I’d be out of the running? Did Jenny’s desire to marry me off spring from a terror of Bruce and me combining? I grinned. She knew that her husband did not provoke the slightest sexual interest in me – or much of any other kind of interest – and
vice versa.
Indeed, I felt sure Bruce had criticised and grumbled about ‘your mate Carol’ on endless occasions.

Sliding into gear, I drove off. While I may not be actively on the look-out for a man, I do notice them. I notice attractive men in the street, in the supermarket, at various meetings I attend. Some of the attractive men I notice even have grey hair. I must be getting old! Will nose hairs be a turn-on as I age?

That Victoria and friend were in residence was evident the moment I stepped into Jenny’s hall. A bomber jacket hung from the newel post, a pair of flip-flops lay in a corner, and the sound of pop music reverberated from upstairs.

‘Sorry I’m a bit late,’ I apologised. ‘I’ve been trying to talk sense into Lynn, but no luck. However, Tom’s coming to speak to her on Saturday, so keep your fingers crossed.’

‘Tom’s coming to Dursleigh? You contacted him?’

‘I did and I just hope he’ll be able to help.’

‘It’ll be odd for you to see him again,’ Jenny commented.

‘Very,’ I agreed, and followed her into the kitchen.

‘Victoria has turned the house into a pigsty,’ Jenny complained, as she poured us glasses of wine. ‘She was untidy before she went away, but she’s a million times worse now. Shane isn’t hooked on tidiness, either.’

‘You’re forever picking up after them?’

‘No. I’ve decided that my days as a slave are over, so if something gets dropped it stays there.’

‘A woman after my own heart,’ I said, though I doubted she would be able to let the clutter lie for long. Knowing Jenny, it would get on her nerves and she would feel compelled to clear it. ‘How’s Shane progressing with locating a lodging?’

‘He hasn’t even begun to look. So far, the two of them have spent most of their time holed up in Victoria’s room, drinking milky coffee, eating Mars Bars and listening to C.D.s. I’ve suggested they go into London, so he can look for digs. I’ve suggested they jump on a train and visit Hampton Court or the Brighton Pavilion, and show Shane some history. I’ve suggested they simply go for a walk and get some fresh air. But they look at me as though I’m stupid.’ The music stopped, a door opened and there was the heavy clump of feet descending the stairs. ‘Speak of the devil.’

The kitchen door opened and Victoria came in, followed by a shaven-headed, deeply tanned youth with a stripe of dark hair down the middle of his chin. He stood around six foot four and was of rugby player proportions.

‘’Lo, Aunt Carol,’ the girl said.

I smiled. ‘Hello.’

Victoria, who has long curly mid-brown hair and hazel eyes, had always dressed in prim blouses and short skirts, but now she wore a loose top, baggy trousers and trainers. As did her companion.

‘This is Shane.’

‘Great to meet you, Carol,’ the young man boomed, and enfolding my hand in a massive paw, he vigorously shook it.

‘And you,’ I said, then, extracting my hand, turned back to Victoria. ‘I believe you had a good time Down Under?’

‘It was beaut. Fantastic. I went to Alice Springs and Ayers Rock – to see the Rock at sunset is life-changing. Another wonderful place is the Daintree Rainforest and –’ She was off, rolling out her itinerary in an Australian-tinged accent, until the energetic hooting of a car horn sounded outside. ‘That’ll be Mick and Mo. Didn’t fancy pizza, so we’re going with friends to The Rabbit Hutch.’

The Rabbit Hutch is a public house located a few miles from Dursleigh in the middle of countryside, which attracts the younger, wilder crowd. There are slot machines, a juke box and, according to notices which I’ve seen stuck on lamp-posts, minor pop groups with weird names often play there. The food served is cheap and cheerful.

‘Soft-pedal on the burgers and the ale. Think of the calories,’ Jenny cautioned.

Her daughter stiffened. ‘Are you saying I’m fat?’

‘I’m saying your stomach’s not too bad, but you’re stacking the pud onto your bottom and thighs. Which is fine if you want J-Lo
gluteus maximus
–’

‘What?’

‘Buttocks – but if you don’t then go easy on the intake. What time do you expect to be home?’

Victoria looked sour. ‘Dunno, but I’ve got my keys.’

‘No worries,’ Shane boomed.

‘Come in quietly.’

‘We will. Bye.’

‘Bye, ladies,’ Shane said breezily.

The front door banged shut, there was the revving of an engine and the sound of a car drawing away down the road.

‘Victoria is chunkier,’ I remarked, as we took our wine through to the living room.

Jenny nodded. ‘She drinks too much beer. She got into the habit while she was away and every evening since they arrived she and Shane have gone out to one of the pubs, to ‘sink a few’ as he puts it. And as my critical daughter used to comment on my figure defects, now it’s my turn.’