Vintage Babes (38 page)

‘At your playgroup?’

So far, she has been a sheep in the Christmas nativity play, and a belly dancer, a nurse and an oak tree in other performances. Each time Lynn had, innovatively and uncomplainingly, produced the required outfit. The oak tree, with its ribbed cardboard trunk, stuffed brown tights branches and sewn-on green paper leaves had been a particular challenge. As was subsequently transporting the forested Beth. And taking her to the toilet had been a nightmare.

‘No, silly. At a wedding. I’m going to wear a pink dress and have pink and white flowers in my hair. And I shall carry a pink and white posy.’ She looked down at her new trainers, which she loves because they flash a light in the soles when she walks. ‘Do you think I could wear these?’

‘Pink satin shoes would look better.’

‘Pink satin shoes with bows?’

‘Perfect,’ I said. ‘But who’s getting married?’

‘We are,’ Lynn shouted. ‘Justin and me.’

I flew into the kitchen to find the two of them sat at the table, surrounded by bags and suitcases, smiling.

‘You?’ I demanded.

Justin nodded. ‘Us.’

‘This isn’t a joke?’ I said, longing to believe and yet wary. The m-word wasn’t something they had tossed around as a possibility. Or, indeed, ever uttered, at least not in my hearing.

‘As if we’d joke about a thing like that,’ Lynn chided.

I kissed them both. ‘Congratulations!’ I wanted to whoop and rejoice. Toot a horn and turn cartwheels. They were back together. Beth was going to live with her mummy
and
her daddy, and be legitimate. My cup runneth over. Although I had pretended to be modern, casual and not to care, as I’d confided to Jenny I had always hoped they would marry – though I had never told them. ‘So what changed things?’ I asked.

‘Steve,’ Lynn replied.

‘Come again?’

‘Steve Lingard changed things. Yesterday morning he stopped me in the village and, when he realised I knew nothing about Justin’s company being bought out, he told me I was self-centred and pathetic. Well, he didn’t use the actual words, but he made it brutally clear he thought I should’ve been a darn sight more aware. That when Justin started to get tetchy and hard to live with, instead of retaliating I should’ve asked questions. Found out if something was troubling him. So, after a day of thinking over what Steve had said – and what you’d said about us needing to discuss things, frankly and honestly – this morning I went along to the showroom. I asked Justin why he hadn’t told me about the take-over.’

‘I explained that I’d kept it to myself because I’d been worried I could be made redundant,’ Justin said, picking up the tale. ‘Worried sick I’d be a failure. Which is what’d made me so snappy at home and constantly on edge.’

‘Why would being made redundant make you a failure?’ I asked.

‘Because I’d feel I was letting Lynn down. Not doing my best for her and Beth.’

‘Rubbish! Lots of people get made redundant through no fault of their own.’

‘That’s what I told him,’ Lynn said.

‘And I agree. Now,’ Justin added. ‘But I’d been doing so well and to be suddenly faced with the prospect of being out of work and on the dole, with a mortgage to pay and a family to support – it seemed like disaster.’

‘But Steve was right, I ought to have realised that something was upsetting him.’ Lynn said. ‘Justin being crabby is out of character, so I should’ve twigged. I should’ve been more sympathetic. I should’ve supported him.’

Beth had been raising herself up and down on tiptoe to make her trainers flash, but now her forehead crinkled. ‘What does sympa – sympathetic mean?’

‘I should have been kinder to Daddy when he got cross,’ Lynn told her.

‘Cuddled him?’

‘Cuddled him.’

I turned to Justin. ‘When will you know what’s going to happen about your job?’

He grinned. ‘I already know. One of the directors of the new company came in last week and told me that my position is safe. Actually, he praised me to the skies and said I’m in line to become an area manager, in a year or so.’

‘That’s because he’s way clever at running his showroom and making sales,’ Beth said seriously. ‘And my daddy’s going to get a salary increase. That means lots more money.’

I laughed. He was not the only one, I thought, though I would save my own news for later. ‘Clever Daddy! And he’s also going to be a married daddy?’

‘We thought we’d make it legal in church in the summer,’ Justin said. ‘St. John’s, August. With trouble here –’ he ruffled Beth’s hair ‘– as our bridesmaid.’

‘I’m going to be the belle of the ball,’ Beth informed me.

‘With just a little competition from your mother,’ I said. ‘But why the decision to marry?’

Justin took hold of Lynn’s hand. ‘Marriage is the ultimate in commitment and, after being so miserable when we broke up, we both feel we want to commit to each other, for always.’

‘Till death do us part,’ Lynn said, smiling at him.

I hoped she was right. I prayed that my daughter’s marriage would be strong and true and permanent.

My gaze went to the bags and cases. ‘So you and Beth are moving out.’

‘Yes, we were waiting until you came home, for us to go home. Thank you so much for taking us in and looking after us.’ Lynn rose to hug me. ‘You’re the best mum ever.’

‘It’s appreciated,’ Justin said.

‘I enjoyed taking them in – most of the time – but I don’t want to take them in ever again,’ I warned.

‘You won’t have to.’

‘Cross your heart and hope to die?’

‘Cross my heart and hope to die,’ he chanted, making the requisite motions.

‘Just one criticism, Mum,’ Lynn said. ‘The loo. Please, I beg, get it fixed. Having to pump the handle half a dozen times before the contrary thing flushes has been driving me bananas.’

‘I’ll see to it,’ I promised.

Loading themselves up, she and Justin began to carry the bags and suitcases out to his car. Back and forth they went, until the kitchen was clear.

‘Will you miss me, Gran?’ Beth asked, as I walked with her down the front path. She held her Bart Simpson lunchbox in one hand and a chocolate lolly in the other.

‘Yes, I will, my darling, very much. But I can come to see you whenever I want, and you can come and see me whenever you want.’

The little girl nodded. ‘And when I come to your house, I can watch you on your video.’

‘Of course.’

For some reason, her grandmother working out on a television programme fascinated her and she had replayed the video many times.

‘I haven’t seen it yet,’ Justin said. ‘I believe I’m in for a treat.’

I grinned. ‘Prepare to be amazed.’

‘When you see Steve, please will you thank him for saying what he did and making me think again. Tell him I’m grateful. Extremely grateful,’ Lynn said.

‘Will do.’

‘He’s quite a guy,’ she continued. ‘Forthright, but sexy with it. I don’t blame you for getting up close and personal. Mum and Steve went out to dinner last night,’ she informed Justin.

‘We went for a specific reason, which Lynn will explain,’ I said. ‘And, as she well knows, getting up close and personal was not involved.’

My daughter chuckled. ‘But you kissed him! The mother of one of the guys I work with happened to be walking her Jack Russell along the High Street and she saw you.’

‘I kissed Steve on the cheek, purely for the benefit of the dog walking lady and her friend.’

‘Some story!’

‘It’s true,’ I protested.

‘I ought to let Dad know that Justin and I are back together again,’ Lynn said, and glanced at the laden car ‘but I’ll be too busy to get around to it this evening. You couldn’t break the news for me and warn that he’ll be required to fork out for a wedding?’

‘I will.’

There were goodbye kisses, then they climbed into the car. Beth was strapped into her child seat, and I waved them goodbye. Actually, I stood on one leg and wiggled my thumbs. I did this once to amuse Beth and it has become the regular farewell. Heaven knows what my neighbours must think.

Returning indoors, I poured myself a glass of wine and raised it on high. ‘Cheers, Steve. You’re a saviour.’

I felt so relieved and happy. Couldn’t stop smiling. Should I ring Steve and thank him? Should I call Jenny and tell her that, at long last, my daughter was embarking on matrimony and becoming respectable? Should I advise my father that he would shortly be attending a wedding where he might be able to wow the guests with his foxtrot, so he would need to decide whether to bring along Peggy, his dancing partner, or the new cook, Marie. Later I would do all this, but first I must obey my daughter’s bidding and ring Tom.

Although it was approaching seven p.m., I rang his office – only to be informed by a switchboard operator that he had left an hour ago. I dialled his home number. The slick chick could answer, but so what? Who cared? Not me. Lynn’s wedding could necessitate contact with the woman and her sons – I assumed they would need to be invited – but, right now, I didn’t care about that, either.

’I’d like to speak to Tom, please,’ I said, when Kathryn did answer.

‘I’m afraid he isn’t here. Who’s calling?’

‘It’s Carol. Carol Webb.’ I have retained my married name, so I could have said it was the first Mrs Webb. The original.

‘Hello, Carol.’ She sounded surprised, though surprisingly pleasant. ‘Tom should be in any minute, but –’

‘He’s running late. As usual.’

‘Correct. And we’re going to the theatre this evening and the boys are fed, bathed and in their pyjamas and the babysitter has arrived, but Tom hasn’t.’

‘I know the feeling.’

‘He did this with you?’

‘Repeatedly. Bloody annoying, isn’t it?’

‘Drives me up the wall. When he does appear he’s so apologetic and yet the very next week he does the same thing again. Blames work, though I’m not always sure he’s telling the truth. Can I take a message or get him to call you?’ Kathryn enquired. ‘I hope nothing’s wrong?’

‘Everything is right. Very right,’ I told her. ‘I was ringing to let him know that Lynn and Justin have sorted out their differences and are going to be married. In the summer.’

‘Married! Ooo, that’s brilliant. Lynn is such a friendly girl – we get on so well together – and she’s so pretty. She’ll make a lovely bride. Will she be wearing white? It’d be nice if she went the whole hog – long white dress, veil, maybe a tiara, and Justin in top hat and tails. I saw a delicious wedding dress only last week. Bit expensive, over three thousand pounds –’

‘Very expensive,’ I inserted, recalling Lynn’s description of her stepmother as ‘twittery’.

‘But the bodice was lace and threaded with silver, and the skirt had rows and rows of tiny pearls arranged in a daisy pattern which – hang on. I think that’s Tom at the door. Give Lynn my love and very best wishes,’ she gabbled.

There was a thunk as the phone was put down and an indistinct snatch of dialogue, then Tom spoke.

‘Carol, how are you?’

‘Never better. Earlier this evening, I arrived home and –’

‘Hold a minute. Kath,’ I heard him say brusquely, ‘if you don’t mind, this is a private conversation.’ A pause, obviously while he waited for her to leave the room. ‘Sorry about that. Carry on.’