‘I know! I just don’t know how to go about it. It’s so shittingly awkward.’
‘If you think it’s awkward, imagine how he finds it,’ Jacqui scoffed. ‘He’s the one with the problem, and you’re supposed to be his friend, and you physically made the first move, even if he was all talk and no trousers. You have to take responsibility too.’
‘I hate it when you’re both right,’ I grumped, kicking a leaf on the patio from the bench. ‘I HATE difficult conversations!’
‘The perks of being a grown-up,’ Amanda said sarcastically.
‘I HATE—’
‘Yes, we know, you HATE BEING A GROWN-UP!’ Jacqui finished for me, flicking her ash on the floor. ‘That’s why they invented wine.’
35
Neighbourhood Watch
Can we talk?
I’d sent the text an hour ago and still had no reply. I assumed Carl was in next door. His car was there; I could almost feel his presence radiating through the walls. I knew the grown-up thing to do was to knock on his door, but I was busy tidying the chaotic cupboard underneath the stairs. It was vital work and someone had to do it. So many plastic bags rammed inside other plastic bags left over from the move months ago – I was turning into Amanda, thinking I could save the world, one plastic bag at a time. I heard a defiant ping and I pulled my head out from underneath the stairs.
We can but not on text. Shall I come round? Do you have Grace?
She’s in bed. Come round.
OK.
Cunty McFucksticks. I stuffed all the crap back into the cupboard exactly how I had found it and slammed the door just as he knocked gently on the window. I had put off sending the text all day, hoping he would go to bed early. I couldn’t sleep even though I was desperately tired. I had tried, but my head was racing, trapped in a loop of guilt and fear. Guilt that I had made him drink again and fear that Jo would come after me with a pitchfork.
‘Hello,’ he said.
I couldn’t look directly at him. ‘Come in. Do you want a cup of tea?’
‘If you’re having one I will.’
‘OK.’ Anything to prolong the fact I had to have this conversation.
‘What have you been doing today?’ he asked in a brittle manner while I waited by the kettle as it bubbled away.
‘Oh, I stayed at Amanda’s till after lunch then came back here and pottered.’
‘It took you that long to text me?’ Here we go: no procrastinating small talk.
‘Carl, look—’ The kettle clicked off, the steam misting up my glasses.
‘I know you left so early because you couldn’t be in the bed. If I was you, I would do the same…’
‘Carl, I feel so—’
‘Embarrassed?’ I shook my head. ‘I do, I feel… shit. Like a failure…’ I started to protest, but he held up his hand to stop me. ‘Just look at me, will you?’ I did. It was excruciating. How could something so ordinary as eye contact make you wish you had been struck down by temporary blindness. I felt myself squirming and had to stiffly splay my hands to stop them involuntarily wriggling.
‘I think this is all too much. Can we forget it ever happened?’
What a loaded question. If I jumped down his throat shouting ‘Yes!’ like I wanted to, I was worried I would hurt his feelings. What would Mini Amanda say?
‘If that’s what you want, Carl.’ Oooh, nice return.
‘My sponsor keeps banging on about not getting involved in a relationship until I’ve been full-on sober for a decent amount of time. It’s only been three months.’
‘Well, yes, it worried me, if I’m honest. I forget you’re in recovery because you’re doing so well. It feels like you’re coping. Like you’ll never drink again.’
‘I can’t say that, though. It’s still one day at a time.’
‘Did this make you want to have a binge?’ I knew I would probably reach for the wine if my vagina suddenly decided to pull up the drawbridge.
‘Weirdly, no, it would be counter-intuitive. Not that obstacles have ever stopped me before – it would be the first excuse to dive back in! It’s different this time. I actually want to stay sober. I think temporarily being on the pink cloud is helping at the moment.’
‘Pink cloud?’
I placed his tea down next to him at the breakfast bar and lifted mine to my lips, blowing on the scalding surface.
‘People say you’re on a pink cloud if you feel euphoric early in recovery after admitting you’re an alcoholic, like suddenly everything is instantly fixed, you’re better, you can’t believe you didn’t sort yourself out earlier to free yourself from addiction.’
‘So what happens then?’
‘You start skipping meetings, think you can handle your sobriety, you don’t need help or counselling, you’re basically cocky and overconfident in your ability to stay sober. The pink cloud doesn’t last, and more often than not leads into relapse once the cloud evaporates and real life as it was before crashes in.’
‘Oh Jesus, Carl, you sound like an AA leaflet. But you’re going to the meetings, aren’t you?’
‘Yes, twice a day sometimes if I’ve missed one because of work. I am very aware of the pink cloud and its consequences. I know what’ll happen if complacency slips in. The devil in my ear could start up again. And I don’t want to listen, I want to embrace this feeling but still be committed to remaining sober and facing problems sober. And that means dealing with this… sober.’
‘What will you do then? About the… about your… situation?’ I felt my cheeks burn.
‘My erectile dysfunction?’ he said through gritted teeth.
‘Yes. That. Have you ever had this conversation with anyone else after it’s happened?’
He shook his head. ‘Every time I’ve done a runner as soon as I can and hope I never see them again.’ He bit his lip.
‘Every? How many were there?’
‘Ten.’
‘Fuck me, Carl! Also, what about our pact?’
‘I know, sorry. I can still do the handshake.’ He bent down and threaded his hand under his leg, making me laugh.
‘If you knew it was going to happen and keeps happening, why were you flogging a dead horse, excuse the pun.’
‘Like I said, I thought it would be different with you. I thought I wouldn’t get the fear because we’re mates. Jo also said you fancied me.’
‘She’s such a meddling nosy parker! Was this all her idea? Some fucking sex experiment to cure you?’ I was raging now. ‘She shouted at me at the party to shag someone. She must have meant you!’
‘No! She has no idea about it. I’ve not told anyone! Jo always thinks she knows what’s best for people, you know that. I think she had some romantic idea of us getting together. She worries about me being on my own, most likely because she can’t be.’
‘Maybe you need to be.’ I could almost see Mini Amanda waving an accusatory finger at me, mouthing the words: Would you listen to yourself!
Carl nodded.
‘So what will you do?’
‘Never pester you again.’
‘No, about this?’
‘Go to the doctor. I think it’s about time I faced it. It’s so…’ He trailed off and picked up his tea, blowing on it first before he took a sip.
‘Yeah, I know… I bet they tell you it’s very common.’
‘I’m sure it is. I googled it along with addiction and it’s everywhere. Still, doesn’t stop it being humiliating.’ We stood at the breakfast bar, both of us silently sipping tea; light had faded fast in the kitchen, the cloud cover making the evening feel like it was drawing in much quicker. It was almost dark outside. Before I could say anything else on the subject, there was a knock on the internal door.
‘Ali, hello, I think you’d better come. Something’s happened,’ Elinor said, her face pinched with concern when I opened the door.
‘Go, I’ll stay with Grace,’ Carl offered.
I followed Elinor out into the Mews and noticed Francesca and Saman
tha in front of Nick’s house, illuminated by the streetlight. Nick looked like he was having a head-to-head with Nosy Norman.
‘You were trespassing on my property.’
‘Only because I know you’re growing illegal drugs. You’re a criminal.’
Nick opened his mouth as if he was going to speak and then just sighed heavily instead.
‘Norman, you can’t go around accusing people of things you have no idea about,’ Francesca chastised him. ‘It’s slander.’
‘Can we talk about this inside?’ Nick said in resignation. ‘I don’t want to do this in public.’
‘No, because you’ll worm your way out of it, move all the plants somewhere else.’
‘I don’t know what you think this is going to achieve,’ Nick said. ‘Are you going to call the police on me?’
‘So you are growing marijuana?’ Samantha asked incredulously. ‘That thread on the EDF was right.’
‘That thread was probably Norman,’ Francesca added in Nick’s defence. Norman didn’t deny it.
‘I want you to destroy the plants and stop drying it in your airing cupboard. I don’t want any part of your dodgy dealing. God knows why you need to grow enough to sink a ship unless you’re a dealer. And we don’t want the likes of that happening round here. The whole point of the Mews is that it’s safe. We don’t want drug addicts, buying your wares, and eyeing up our houses for likely break-ins.’
‘Oh, for fuck’s sake, Norman! He isn’t a dealer,’ I cried angrily. ‘No one is going to come in and steal your dressing gown collection.’
‘Ali!’ Nick warned me.
‘Nick, just tell him.’
‘NO! He trespassed into my garden and tried to break into my greenhouse.’
‘Yeah, Norman, you don’t have a leg to stand on,’ Samantha agreed. ‘If you want to report a crime you have to go about it the right way. Not turn all vigilante.’
‘But Nick isn’t committing a crime,’ I insisted. ‘No one can do anything without a search warrant.’
‘That’s actually true,’ Nick said nodding.
‘I saw what was in there; why you keep it locked. I will report it to the police,’ Norman said darkly.
‘You actually have no idea,’ Nick said, and stormed back into his house.
I gave Norman a Paddington Bear stare. ‘Norman, that was an underhand thing to do,’ I said crossly.
‘I am at the end of my tether with that smell. I know what it is, and both of you pretended you couldn’t smell it. That’s gaslighting! I feel crazy because it’s there and yet no one will corroborate it.’
‘Why don’t we go and test it out now then?’ Samantha said reasonably. ‘Prove once and for all that there is a smell.’
I knew what I would be doing if I were Nick… Samantha and Francesca followed Norman to his front door, Elinor and I remained outside.
‘Do you think he’s moving it?’ she asked, reading my mind.
‘Yep.’ And predictably the landing light went on upstairs.
‘I think Nick should tell him the truth. Norman isn’t a complete heartless sod, though I know he can act it sometimes in residents’ meetings. The amount of times he complains about parking, the communal gardening, bin day… He wants only one car per household too and you have to pay to park the second car. How does that even affect him?’
‘I just think he’s a lonely old man who wants to take the world down with him.’ This was such a stupid situation that could be resolved if everyone stopped being so dramatic. ‘I’m going to talk to Nick.’
‘I’ll stay here, wait for the others. Too many cooks…’
I nodded, strode over to his door and rapped the brass knocker. He ignored it so I pushed open the letterbox and bent my head down to it.
‘Nick, it’s Ali. Open the door, I want to ask you something.’ I heard approaching footsteps and the door swung open. He stood there glaring at me and wordlessly raised his eyebrows in a ‘come on then let’s hear it’ way. ‘Why don’t you just tell Norman about your mum and all this will end?’
‘Because he’s being a twat.’
So are you, I wanted to say, but didn’t. For someone who was usually so reserved, he was acting like a stroppy teenager.
‘How did you notice him by the greenhouse?’
‘I saw his torch bobbing around down there and grabbed him, marched him out though the front of the house.’
‘He’s obviously reached desperation point for him to climb a fence! God knows what goes on in his head. We did gaslight him, after all.’
‘He shouldn’t have broken into my garden,’ Nick said sulkily. ‘None of this is a really big deal. It’s just a fucking smell and it’s none of his business. People live next door to noisy neighbours, messy neighbours, annoying for whatever reason neighbours, but you don’t barge into their houses and try to take things to prove they’re annoying.’
‘Just tell him.’
‘What if he calls the police anyway, just to spite me? I knew I should never have let anyone in on this.’ He avoided my eyes.
‘Anyone, as in me? I’ve had nothing to do with Norman acting like this. He was all fired up way before I found out about your little operation.’
‘But you invited Elinor round and smoked a fucking joint; the smell escaped into the air when you switched the extractor fan on. It was the joint that broke the camel’s back, as far as Norman was concerned. Rubbing his face in it.’
‘I was trying to help your mum; she was in pain.’
‘Don’t tell me about my mum! I know you were just having a jolly with your mates from the Mews, thought it would be fun to get stoned. I’m surprised you didn’t invite your boyfriend over.’
I shook my head angrily. ‘He isn’t my boyfriend.’ I walked off before I said anything I couldn’t take back.
‘I’m going home,’ I said to Elinor as I stormed past her. ‘He can sort this mess out himself.’ I heard Nick’s door slam just as Norman’s door opened behind me so I turned round; his face was set in a mardy mask of disgruntlement. Samantha and Francesca shrugged at us as they left his house, Samantha mouthed ‘No smell’ at me. Right, fuck it. I was sick of sitting on the fence pretending I was in Switzerland with Amanda. It wasn’t fair on Norman, and Nick was being a dick. Mini Amanda kicked off: It’s none of your business, Ali! The Mews has claimed you as its next curtain twitcher! I pushed her to one side and carried on.
‘Norman, can I have a word?’ I asked.
‘Why? So you can come and say I told you so? The smell’s magically disappeared, I can’t think how…’ He pressed his lips in an ironic grimace.
‘No, I want to explain something to you. Can I come in?’ He shrugged at me and stepped aside so I could fit through the door. I hovered in the gloomy hallway, waiting to see if I would be invited further into his house. A small old-fashioned brass lamp with an art deco green glass lampshade gave off the only light on top of the white wooden radiator cover.
‘What did you want to explain?’ he asked caustically. ‘How your boyfriend isn’t really a drug dealer? Or did you want me to keep the secret that you and Carl are having an affair behind his back?’ Blown away by his impressive credentials in the Nosy Neighbour league, I was temporarily at a loss for words, once a rarity, but that seemed to be happening more frequently since I’d moved here.
‘Nick is not my boyfriend and neither am I having an affair with Carl, not that I have to explain any of it to you.’
‘Whatever you say. Walls have eyes and ears round here you know.’ I was overpowered by a huge wave of dislike. Now I understood why Nick didn’t want him to know anything, but I’d backed myself into a corner. What should I do? Silence from the usually verbose Mini Amanda.
‘Nick is growing the cannabis in his greenhouse because his mum has multiple sclerosis and eating it is the only real relief she can get at the moment because she’s feeling terribly poorly.’
36
Live TV
‘We have a possible new member
for Clothes My Daughter Steals,’ Samantha announced in the cab on the way to Channel Five a few days after the mad party weekend. ‘You just need to meet them, Lila, see if you like them.’
‘When?’ Lila asked as we wound through traffic, my tummy clamped shut, nerves firing on all cylinders.
‘Whenever you’re free to meet, they’re ready and available at your convenience.’
‘I’m free this afternoon.’
‘I’ll ring them when you’re on air and see if they’re around.’
The green room at Good Morning with David and Mina resembled a doctor’s waiting room but instead of faded posters warning about prostate cancer and the first signs of dementia, there were pictures of celebrities in tired black frames dotted all over the walls. Large official photographs of both David and Mina hung boldly in the centre like holy deities surrounded by satellite minions. The wonky coffee table in the middle displayed today’s papers as well as current magazines fanned across its surface. Behind the square of sofas a table leaned up against the cool grey wall, loaded with the obligatory fruit platters and pastries, teas and coffees. A TV mounted on the wall rumbled along in the background showing Good Morning with David and Mina in real time as it was broadcast live on Channel Five.
My heart nervously hammered like a xylophone on my ribs and I was clenching every part of my body so tightly that I could have crapped out a diamond. I loathed live TV all because Jim had once put me forward for a charity makeover on local news as part of Children in Need when I’d begged him not to. ‘Think of the exposure!’ he’d bellowed, pound signs dancing before his eyes. I’d forgotten everything I was supposed to say, sweated all my make-up off, dropped the clothes down the back of the raised stage and vommed in my mouth, having to swallow it back down. I was so traumatised afterwards I couldn’t speak. Jim said no one noticed, that I was great, but I knew I never wanted to do it again. I hated having to remember things on demand, with no time for retakes. I preferred to wing it. (Take that as an allegory for my entire life!)
Samantha had been sympathetic about my stage fright, but at the same time, there was everything riding on this for Lila and me. It was an unspoken test to see how we fared before they offered us a regular slot for a proper wage. No pressure at all…
The Single Mums Move On Page 24