What Now?

by Low, Shari

  Down at ground level, Crystal was applying a deep red to my toenails now. I’d chosen that colour in a bid to channel my inner fierce, but so far all I was getting was my inner cynical and anxious.

  Carol was still making her point. ‘But you’ve been apart for almost a year now. Isn’t it time to start seeing what else is out there?’

  Maybe it was. But there was an obvious drawback to the plan of action she was suggesting. ‘I know what you’re saying, but…’ I broke off, trying to find a new way to frame the story. How could I tell her that I wasn’t sure I could ever be happy again? Not truly happy, in that carefree way I used to be. It wouldn’t be fair to bring it all up again, to go back over the heartache we’d all suffered, so instead, I played to my natural personality and kept it shallow. ‘Even if I felt some kind of physical attraction to Sam, it would be completely pointless. Look at him. Look at Estelle. They’re perfect for each other. And much as I love him, even if – by some miracle – he was interested in me in that way, the last thing I’d want to do is to risk our friendship by getting embroiled in a complicated romantic entanglement. He means too much to me to jeopardise what we have.’

  Carol pondered that for several moments, and I could see that she was considering it on a philosophical level, analysing the pros and cons, and contemplating a wise and spiritual way forward.

  ‘You’d totally still shag him though, wouldn’t you?’

  I nodded. ‘In a heartbeat.’

  My chuckles made my feet tremble, irritating Crystal no end.

  Over at the other side of the salon, I could see Toni having her hair washed at the basins. ‘How are things going with Toni?’ I asked, desperate to change the subject. I was almost fifty, not fifteen. My days of unrequited crushes and hormonal sex urges should be long gone.

  Carol sighed, although, of course, the Botox stopped her face from showing that it was in any way perturbed by the question. ‘I don’t know,’ Carol said, her gaze going to her daughter, all long limbs and flawless complexion. ‘She still won’t tell me what’s going on with her. Sometimes I think we’re getting past whatever it is, and then in a split second it can change and she hates the world again. I don’t understand what sparks off the moods. I just don’t get it.’

  ‘You’re her mother. I don’t think you’re supposed to get it. If it makes you feel better, I’ll take the blame. She’s clearly inherited my messed-up Cooper genes.’

  I decided not to take offence that my sister-in-law didn’t argue, just breezed right past it and went on, ‘Toni’s always had it tougher than Charlie. Charlie just finds everything easy. Making friends, studying, boyfriends. I think Toni’s always been in her shadow, always struggled to be happy in her own skin. That’s why I thought this trip would be good for her.’

  ‘I think so too,’ I agreed. ‘You can never underestimate the healing powers of sun, fresh air and a sixty-something woman who is equally obsessed with Tom Jones and Sylvester Stallone.’

  Hearing Carol talk about Toni was giving me pangs of longing to speak to my boys. I’d FaceTimed them this morning, but they didn’t have much time to chat because they were on their way to pick up the RV. Their journey was starting today in Miami, and they were going South to the Keys to do something with alligators. They rejected my offer to put the coastguard, the local police and the nearest ER on standby. I was only half joking. After a panicked bout of internet research, I was now terrifyingly aware of the damage that could be done by a gator bite. And don’t get me started on sharks and coyotes.

  Crystal had just put the last coat of varnish on my toes, and inserted them into a small dryer. Sitting on a wheeled stool, she rolled up to the middle of the chair, pulled her little trolley behind her and started work on my manicure. Val was now over at the basins having her hair washed – presumably with plutonium or some other substance that could strip away nearly six decades of hairspray – and Carol had gone into a private room to have her bits waxed.

  I was just about to close my eyes and zone out, when Toni was brought over to the chair next to me for her pedicure. It was like musical chairs, with beauty treatments thrown in.

  Her transformation was already noticeable. Blonde highlights now framed her face, lifting her long, mousy, hair, and giving it some texture. It was in a middle parting now, and it had been styled so that it fell in loose curls that went halfway down her back.

  ‘Wow, your hair looks gorgeous!’ I told her honestly.

  Normally so self-conscious, her new look was definitely making her walk just a little bit taller. She folded her long limbs into the chair next to me, and proceeded to take at least a dozen selfies, then pored over them before posting the ones she wanted to use.

  It was such a strange dichotomy. Toni was so reserved, yet she felt the need to constantly post photos, painting a glamorised image of her life. Was she seeking some kind of approval? Trying to impress someone? Or was this just normal life now and I was a dinosaur who should get with the times. If so, my absolute loathing of getting my photo taken might be a slight glitch in the plan.

  ‘Benny messaged me after I posted a pic of my hair and he said I looked like a shampoo advert,’ she retorted, and I could see that she liked that. Charlie was the glamorous one, the effortless beauty who put loads of time and effort into her appearance. Toni was equally gorgeous, but in a more understated, natural way. I was glad Benny had been sweet to her. They had always been so close, such a great support system for each other. They were exactly the way Callum, Michael and I had been growing up. Although, thankfully, we didn’t have social media or I might have posted something about my pissed dad or my eternally disapproving mother.

  ‘Are you sending the pics to someone special?’ I asked her, sounding like the elderly aunt who was trying to be down with the kids. In truth, I was just trying to understand her a little bit better and since she was constantly on her phone, that seemed like the best place to start.

  She blinked in that way Benny did, when he was trying to get away with fudging the truth or being less than fully candid.

  No, honestly, Mum… blink… I need a fiver for a collection in school… blink… and I won’t spend any of it in the chippy at lunchtime… blink blink.

  Toni prised her gaze away from the phone. ‘Um, just my Insta timeline.’ Blink.

  I had no idea why that touched a nerve. Did she have a boyfriend she was sending them to? Or was there someone she liked? Or who liked her? Why did she suddenly look so shifty? By her age, I was on the cusp of my first engagement, so I wasn’t going to judge.

  I decided to probe a little deeper. ‘You know, honey, if you ever have anything on your mind, or you’re unhappy about anything, I’m always here for you. I’ll always listen, and I’ll keep it to myself. I won’t even tell your mum and dad if you don’t want me to.’ Blink. I had my fingers crossed at that point. Carol would kill me if I deliberately withheld a problem from her.

  ‘Thanks, Aunt Carly, but, honestly, I’m chilling.’ I knew that meant ‘happy’. Elderly aunty, down with the kids, strikes again.

  ‘Okay, but please talk to me if you need to. Take advantage of the fact that I’ve pretty much screwed up or been in trouble more times than I can count.’ I nudged her with my shoulder. ‘Although, I think the laws have changed now about public nudity so I might not have up-to-date info on that.’

  Her eyes widened, until something clicked, she realised I was kidding, and let out the most heart-warming laugh. We were making progress, I could feel it. Unwilling to push too hard though, I shut up and let her focus on her screen again.

  I put my head back, closed my eyes. This was bliss. The ultimate escape. Good for the soul. Nothing could spoil it…

  The buzz made me jump, and I realised that Toni had dozed off in the middle of her pedicure. This jet lag was wiping us out. My gaze went down to her screen, sitting on the armrest between our chairs.

  A text.

  Really bitch? Don’t you fucking dare or you know what’s coming.


  I had to read it three or four times before I could absorb it. What the hell? Who would send something like that to my eighteen-year-old niece? Before I could wake her to ask, Crystal interrupted my fury.

  ‘Carly, I think that’s your phone that’s ringing? It’s coming from your purse.’

  I realised that she was right and used the hand that wasn’t under the UV light to tentatively retrieve it from my handbag and checked the screen. Sam. I pressed the green button to accept the call.

  ‘Hey you, how’s your day going?’ There was a very faint weariness in his voice, a tightness that wasn’t usually there. Perhaps his meeting hadn’t gone so well.

  ‘Yeah, good. My fingernails and my toenails are perfect, so I’ve just got all the bits in between to fix now. I think it’s going to take a while and it’ll definitely test their superpowers.’

  Even his laugh sounded a little hollow. There was a slight pause and I winced. Definitely a shade of awkwardness between us now. Was this about the whole bathrobe/flashing fiasco? It was an accident and it wasn’t like he hadn’t seen it all before. Although, granted, it was all several inches smaller and higher back then.

  ‘Is everything okay with you?’ I asked him, hoping that whatever was bothering him wasn’t serious. I knew how much he enjoyed the company of visitors from home, and I didn’t want anything to spoil this time for him. Also, I might need him to dig out his old action hero wardrobe and help me find the moron who had just sent an abusive text to my niece.

  On the other end of the phone, Sam sighed. ‘It is. Just… you know, a lot going on.’

  I wanted to point out that he’d just spent the morning having breakfast in the Peninsula. Not exactly a hard day’s work. However, I was pretty distracted, so it wasn’t the time for light-hearted banter. ‘I’m sure whatever it is, it’ll all work out fine,’ I assured him.

  ‘Yeah, you’re right. At least, I hope so.’

  Another pause.

  ‘The thing is…’ He started again. Then stopped. How come I got the feeling he was furiously blinking right now?

  My brain cells silently screamed at him. In the name of the holy six pack, SPIT IT OUT!

  ‘The thing is…’ he repeated. ‘Estelle’s reshoots are wrapping tomorrow, a week earlier than planned. How would you feel about meeting her tomorrow night?’

  14

  Sam’s House, The Next Day

  Fighter – Christina Aguilera

  Okay, things going in my favour. The glam squad at the salon had delivered the equivalent of an Oscar-winning performance. They hadn’t exactly managed to turn back time, but they’d definitely polished up the clock face. My hair was back in the pixie cut I’d worn for much of my life, with the exception of that unfortunate phase in my twenties when it went a bit wrong and I morphed into a cross between Billy Idol, Annie Lennox, and my nan after a perm and a purple rinse. The spray tan had taken me a few steps away from my natural complexion of West of Scotland Blue, and I’d been de-haired, polished, the post-flight puffy face had subsided, and the eyelash extensions and brow shape were making me look like I was wide awake for the first time since I started doing school runs in 2008.

  Unfortunately, however, none of those things could even make a dent in the creeping sense of unease I’d had since yesterday when I’d spotted that text on Toni’s phone.

  Really bitch? Don’t you fucking dare or you know what’s coming.

  No matter what way I played it back, there was no sugar-coating it. Unless, of course, I believed Toni’s explanation.

  ‘It’s just a few of my friends taking the piss, Aunt Carly. It’s a joke. I swear.’ I might have accepted that if my mother-senses weren’t wailing like a fire alarm and she wasn’t blinking furiously as she spoke.

  I pressed her to show me the conversation leading up to that point but she refused. ‘That’s, like, against my human rights,’ she’d argued. I was fairly sure the United Nations hadn’t mandated on aunties snooping on their niece’s text messages, but I didn’t push the point. ‘And don’t go saying anything to my mum, because she’ll just have a berzy and blow it all out of proportion.’

  ‘But, Toni…’

  ‘Aunt Carly, you promised! You said you’d never tell my parents something if I didn’t want you to. Well, I don’t want you to tell them about this.’

  Her indignation put me in an impossible position. If I told Carol, I’d break Toni’s trust and she’d never come to me if she was in trouble. If I didn’t tell Carol and she found out, my pal may kill me while I am sleeping. If she let me live, she’d never forgive me.

  My only hope was that Carol would do a bit of snooping on her own, because she’d already sensed that something was wrong.

  It was now early afternoon and we were lying out by the pool. Or rather, Carol and I were sunning ourselves, and Val was floating in the middle of the water on a giant inflatable swan. Carol had put a video clip of it on her Instagram story an hour ago and it already had over 40K ‘likes’. By the end of this holiday, Val was going to be a national celebrity.

  ‘I don’t know what’s got into her today,’ Carol said, gesturing to Toni, who was lying in the shade on the terrace of the guest house, ignoring us all. ‘I thought we were building bridges, but we’re right back to square one. She’s done nothing but sulk and bite my head off since last night.’

  Okay, tell her. Tell her now. No don’t.

  My options replayed in my mind. If Toni was in trouble and we alienated her, she’d have no one to turn to. Meanwhile, she was still swearing that it was all just a stupid joke. But I should still tell Carol, shouldn’t I? Aaargh, this was impossible.

  Think rationally. Toni was here with us, so she wasn’t going to come to any physical harm. Surely it was better to try to tease the truth out of her and then help and support her to deal with it in her own way?

  Okay, that’s what I was going to do. It was. Wasn’t it?

  ‘Are you still thinking about doing bendy things with our favourite movie guy, because you’ve been staring into space for the last ten minutes with a weird look on your face.’

  I slipped straight into fake mode. ‘Nope, I’m over it. I’m fairly sure if I had energetic sex with anyone, I’d need a bucket of painkillers and a physiotherapist afterwards, so I’m going to save myself the groin strain.’ I almost convinced myself that I meant it. Almost. He was just so fricking lovely, and gorgeous and he made me feel… right. I sent my beating heart and tingly bits to the corner and told them to have a long think about what they were doing and stop spoiling this for the rest of me. The time for Sam and I had long gone. Past tense. And even if I was interested in him, there was clearly no way it would be reciprocated. He was in the Estelle Conran, Beverly Hills goddess league now. I was still in the league that met weekly at a slimming club and then went for the occasional splurge in Primark.

  My sister-in-law, however, wouldn’t get that. She pinged the string on the bottoms of her red bikini. Actually, ‘bikini’ was a stretch. It looked like three tops off Bisto tins, joined together with an elaborate series of string knots.

  I glanced down at my Superslimmer bathing suit, guaranteed to cover the wobbly bits while cutting off circulation to the extremities. I may look a few pounds lighter, but I wasn’t sure I’d ever feel my knees again.

  ‘Oh, really?’ she goaded, not even trying to hide her amused cynicism. ‘You have no lusty feelings towards him at all now?’

  Deflect. Deflect!

  ‘Maybe if he put a paper bag over his head and ate a cake,’ I joked, hoping that would shut her down. Sadly not.

  ‘How are you feeling about meeting Estelle tonight then?’

  I hated the very thought of it and I’d already decided she was a shallow cow with no redeeming features whatsoever. Furthermore, she’d stolen Sam. Granted, I’d left him alone for most of the last twenty years, but still, how could she? Tart. All of which was kept in the deepest corner of my brain, marked Shamefully Immature.

  Instead of r
ising to the bait, I went for casual cheeriness. ‘I think it will be great. I’m sure she’ll be lovely.’

  ‘Lovely?’ Carol scoffed. ‘That’s only one step up from “nice”.’

  Nope, still wasn’t rising to the bait. The truth was that I was dreading it, which was ridiculous. Sam had every right to have a young, slim, successful, globally adored girlfriend and it was none of my business. I’d been married to Mark for almost twenty years and apart from one slight blip back in the early days, Sam had accepted it and had moved on with his life. Time for me to return the favour.

  Although… I checked my watch… Sam said she was arriving home around eight, so that gave me at least four hours to shower, do my hair, apply full face make-up, then repeat it at least twice when I made an arse of it. After that, I’d leave myself enough time to prise myself into whatever outfit would best cover my bumps, while giving the impression of casual elegance that suggested I’d made no effort at all.

  I was just working out the timings when Robinson Crusoe waded in from the deep and parked her swan next to her cabana. ‘I’m never leaving here. Someone is going to have to phone my Don and tell him that I’m seeking political asylum.’

  I put my hand to my face to help me squint against the sun. ‘Political asylum? In Sam’s pool?’

  ‘Yep, I’m fleeing struggles and environmental hardship. In my native land, I have to freeze my knockers off for eight months of the year.’ With that, she plumped down on her lounger and took a sip of the pina colada Arnie had made for her after lunch. If we were ever going to get Val on the plane to go home, I had a feeling we were going to have to take Arnie with us.

  ‘You ok over there, Toni?’ I hollered to my niece.

  ‘Yes, thanks, Aunt Carly,’ she raised her head from her phone, but I couldn’t see her eyes for her sun specs. I wasn’t going to push it for now, but she was on my radar and I was going to make sure she was ok… whether she liked it or not.