Underneath

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Underneath Page 2

by Andie M. Long


  I sigh. ‘I know you’re right.’ I take a bite of biscuit. ‘I tried it once before when we’d been going out a couple of years,’ I confess, before pausing to swallow. ‘While he was at footie practice I dressed in a lace Basque. When he walked in he asked why I was dressed in a doily.’ I sniff up and search my pocket for a tissue I don’t have. Monique, whilst desperately trying to keep a straight face, pops back into the house and returns with a leopard print tissue. I look at her before I blow my nose. ‘Seriously, they make these? You co-ordinated your snot rags with your handbag?’

  ‘It takes no extra time to choose between a stylish tissue and a boring old white one,’ she replies. ‘Now back to Niall. You do remember who he is, right? Mr Unromantic. Mr Moody. You expected him to turn all Christian Grey on your ass? Seriously?’

  ‘Okay, okay, I admit in hindsight I was a tad deluded. I just thought he’d think whoa and—’

  ‘Take them off? As I keep saying, Niall just thinks you’re wasting VBT.’

  ‘VBT?’

  ‘Valuable bonking time. Now stop talking and eat your pastry. I need to tell you about my Friday night hottie, and I don’t mean a wheat bag.’

  I partake of my delicious, pain au chocolat, chasing the sauce escaping from the corner of my mouth with my tongue. Monique tells me about the twenty-six year old Medical Student she pulled Friday night. She hasn’t had a serious relationship since Toby left her ten years ago after her refusal to have children. I didn’t know her then. She was thirty-two and Toby was thirty-eight. He felt it was time. He left, and within six months had a pregnant girlfriend. Monique moved to Sheffield to start over. She’s ten and a bit years older than me, although you wouldn’t know it to look at her. She says she’s inherited her mother’s skin; there’s barely a line on her face and sometimes I feel very jealous. My crow’s feet and frown lines have deepened over the last few years. I think having children must be an ageing factor. All that stress is enough to give anyone a few extra lines. Monique is blunt about why she doesn’t want children and I love her for it.

  ‘They make a mess and I can’t deal with it. Plus they want constant attention and I want all my attention.’

  That said, she still makes the effort to see Joe a few times a year, and she really makes a big effort when she does. I selfishly and secretly like the fact that she’s my child-free friend. She’s the one I can talk to about books, fashion and the latest reality TV programme. I don’t have to chat about school, SATs and the things about having a child that bore me rigid to be honest. I don’t do well with routine and having to get up at the same time to go to the same place twice a day nearly sends me demented.

  ‘So how’s Joe?’ she says, like she’s reading my mind.

  ‘Oh. Well he totally loves school, and must be the only child not looking forward to the summer break. He says he wishes school was carrying on. I think he’s scared he’s going to be stuck with me. I’m becoming less cool the older he gets.’

  ‘Yeah right,’ replies Monique. ‘Joe totally adores you and you know it. You are Cool Mum personified. When are the holidays anyway? And more importantly, are you going to be able to ditch him for some girl time?’

  ‘There’s seven weeks left of the term, and yes, I’ve lined up some holiday clubs so we can skive off. You’ll have to let me know when you’re free so I can put it in my diary.’ Monique looks satisfied at this and I know it was the correct response, though Joe hates holiday clubs and I feel torn between them both. ‘Joe was extra excited today because a new boy was starting in class. I told him to be nice to him.’

  ‘Strange time to start school?’

  ‘I know. I can only think that his mum’s doing it to get him introduced to the kids before the break. I hope he’s a good kid, cos that class has its fair share of troublemakers as it is.’

  Monique starts looking around the room, my signal that she’s getting bored.

  ‘Anyway, enough about men and children,’ I say. ‘Show me the new clothes you’ve bought this week, you know you’re dying to.’ She claps her hands on her knees, smiles and goes off to get them whilst I move inside to the sofa and make myself comfortable. This is what I love, fashion. I smile to myself as I wait to see her latest collection.

  She doesn’t disappoint. A black knee length Wallis jacket sits amongst the items she piles at the side of me. I feel my mouth get wet as I look at it. She grins. ‘See you don’t need sex when you have fashion porn. Try it on. I picked it for you.’

  I pull it around myself. The waist nips in and the bottom of the jacket flares out ever so slightly. I shimmy so it swings. Monique looks at me like a mother at her child’s first school uniform fitting. I hug her. ‘Thank you, it’s beautiful.’

  ‘You’re very welcome. Now, how about another coffee and Real Housewives of NYC?’

  ‘Mon, my life is complete,’ I giggle, sitting back on the sofa and keeping my new jacket on so I can keep touching it.

  Back at home I catch up with the ‘Chore of the Day’ (my latest project to alleviate boredom, courtesy of Pinterest). Today’s exciting chore is vacuuming the house, and then I check my eBay account. I’ve not got much for sale at the moment, but I hope the weekend’s nice for trawling car boots in search of bedraggled Barbie dolls and pretty vintage pieces. My business started off as a hobby when Joe was younger. A lot of my friends had daughters at a similar time and I was secretly jealous that they got to play with dolls. I don’t think I’ve ever totally grown up. I’d got into eBaying while Niall had been nurse training. We were broke, so I’d sold anything I thought I might make some money to help pay the bills. I noticed that Barbie clothes went for a lot of money and started looking around for them at summer fairs and car boots. Then I took to buying dolls that looked like they had seen better days; washing them, brushing their hair, mending their clothes and then selling them online in the run up to Christmas. I made a few hundred pounds and earned a good reputation for selling them, so I started my little eBay shop, ‘Lauren’s pre-loved’. My obsession with all things vintage followed; pretty tea-cups, jewellery, the odd piece of clothing. It’s grown into a little part-time job that fits in perfectly around Joe, and apart from Monique, I think it’s the only thing that keeps me sane. I make a mental note to list the nine or so items in the box at the side of the desk later on tonight, and then head off to school to collect Joe.

  I always park up on one of the back streets near the school. It means a few minutes’ walk, but the main drag is full of crazy mummy maniacs who despite repeated warnings from the school and the local police, still persevere with parking on zigzags and corners of junctions. You fear for your life walking down to school as they whirl around the corners in their haste to get the nearest parking slot available at the last possible moment. I meet Tanya, one of the other school mums, at the bottom of the drive. Tall and slender, with her red hair tied in a ponytail with a huge scarf, she’s easily identifiable from some distance away. I get on well with most of the school mums and we have the odd coffee, but I keep a distance as I have Monique and that’s enough for me.

  The walk up the drive only takes a few minutes. It leads past the main school building into a playground complete with two small benches, a wooden climbing frame and a large grassed area. In the corner of the playground are two Portakabins, one of which is Joe’s classroom. We all gather nearby and await the release of our little angels. For once it’s not raining.

  ‘Did you know there’s a new boy in school? Our Billy told me.’ Tanya says.

  ‘Yep, Joe said. I think he started today.’

  ‘I’ve heard his mum’s a footballer’s wife,’ she adds.

  ‘What?’ I laugh. ‘A WAG, in Handsworth? You’ve got to be kidding; surely she wouldn’t come to live here? Not being funny, because I love living here myself, but it’s hardly chock full of McMansions is it?’

  Tanya shrugs. ‘Just saying what I heard. We’ll find out in a minute anyway, cos she’s over there.’


  We head over to the tiny woman standing sideways to us. It has to be her as she is a stereotypical WAG. Her hair is almost yellow blonde and reaches the bottom of her back in spiralled tendrils. She flicks it with her pink glitter ended nails and turns to us showing an over-tanned face. It’s either sunbed or real tan, because her skin resembles the part of my leather sofa where Niall’s bottom has worn the seat out. Her mouth opens to reveal white teeth that might be alright in London, but in Sheffield, and against the tanned skin, look ridiculous, like snow on a beach.

  She turns towards me. Her eyes open wide. ‘Lauren,’ she shouts and throws her arms around me. My forehead creases and I tense as I’m locked in her embrace, because I don’t know who the hell she is. She releases me and I step back to look at her. Her eyes look familiar and I’m just trying to place her when she adds, ‘You muppet, it’s me. Liz Parker, from Brook.’

  I stare at her, and then try and plant a smile on my face as I realise an old echo from my life is back – one I didn’t wish to hear again.

  Chapter 2

  ‘Gosh Liz, er, I haven’t seen you for years,’ I state, my hand held to my chest.

  ‘Yeah, well Danny went to play for Leeds United, so we were there for a while.’

  There’s a silence whilst I process the fact she’s in front of me. The Liz I knew was a spotty, mousy haired loner. I made the mistake of standing up for her when a rumour spread around school that she’d been caught masturbating in the toilets with her lunch box banana. She thanked me by reporting the culprits to the teachers and misguidedly told them I was being picked on too. I can only think she said it in some pathetic attempt to be my friend, but I was furious and joined in the rumour-mongering instead. I remember how she looked at me as she walked out of the Head teacher’s office while I sat outside awaiting my fate. I was threatened with suspension and had my Prefect badge taken away. Liz’s parents took her out of school shortly after that and I didn’t see her again. I’d heard a rumour later that her parents had discovered she was pregnant to Danny Southwell, one of the school hard cases who played football any time he could, and just like that, the WAG thing clicked. ‘So you and Danny stuck together? Wow.’

  ‘You hadn’t heard how successful Danny was?’

  ‘I’m not into sports.’

  She stares at me like she doesn’t quite believe me and sighs. ‘So you didn’t hear about me being made to marry Danny cos I was pregnant? You must have been the only person in South Yorkshire who didn’t.’

  I grit my teeth and shake my head.

  ‘I lost the baby, but we stayed together and had Tyler. Danny did well at Leeds, but we’re divorced now. I’ve moved back to Sheffield to be nearer my mum. She isn’t getting any younger and she dotes on Tyler.’

  Good God, an over-sharer. I’ve only been standing here five minutes and I have her whole life history.

  ‘Fancy you being here anyway. So you’ve children too?’

  ‘Just the one, Joe. Well, I hope you get sorted soon.’ I look towards the classroom door as the kids start coming out of class. Thank goodness I can get out of here. ‘I’m sure Joe will keep an eye on Tyler to make sure he settles.’

  ‘Oh, that’s so kind,’ she says as a child comes sloping towards her with a face so sneering it looks like the kid’s had a stroke.

  ‘Well, see you later Liz,’ I state.

  ‘Oh,’ she makes a small tinkly laugh. ‘It’s Bettina now. Bettina Southwell. I gave myself a fresh start when we moved to Leeds.

  I dread to think what my face looks like in response to this; Niall says I am incapable of masking my emotions.

  ‘Hey,’ she adds, ‘before you go let’s swap numbers. I’m out of touch with people around here. We must do coffee sometime.’

  I hesitate as I’ve no wish to get involved with a girl I barely knew at school. ‘I’ve not got my phone on me at the mo, but I’ll bring it some other time.’

  ‘Sure,’ she says and smiles. ‘Catch you tomorrow.’

  When we get to the car, I ask Joe what his new school friend is like.

  ‘He’s ace mum, dead cool,’ he says. ‘He’s got over five-hundred Pokemon cards and loads of spares he says I can have.’ Pokemon is Joe’s new obsession, so Tyler will be a God now in his eyes.

  ‘He seemed moody when he came out of school,’ I mention. ‘Was he like that in class?’

  ‘Nope, he said his mum gets on his nerves. She’s always making him do things he doesn’t want to do, like moving.’

  ‘Well, he’ll be missing his friends from Leeds.’

  ‘Suppose so,’ Joe sucks on his bottom lip. ‘But he’s got me now.’

  I walk into the house and for once I don’t chastise my child as he leaves his coat and bag on the stairs and his shoes strewn in the hallway. Instead, I put the kettle on, make myself a coffee and reach into one of the high up kitchen cupboards. I take out a bottle of whisky, my tipple of choice on the few occasions I drink. I throw a good measure in, before finally plonking myself in a dining room chair.

  ‘Can I play with my Lego?’ Joe asks, seeing a chance to take advantage over the mother who usually gets him to practice his reading first.

  ‘Whatever you want.’ Joe looks at me strangely, but runs off to his room before the alien leaves and his mother returns.

  I sink back in the chair, coffee in my hands and close my eyes. I can feel a tension headache starting. I’ve loved being part of that school since Joe started, but now I feel a sense of dread. I was never friends with this woman, so how do I put her off without seeming mean? I can only hope she befriends some of the other mothers. Or maybe, I chastise myself, after all these years she’s turned out okay and I should get to know her. I take a large swig of my coffee; the whisky warms my mouth as much as the hot drink and I decide I’m ditching tonight’s planned tea and will walk to the chippy. Then I’ll have a top up.

  Niall comes home from work and I realise that Monique’s chat and the latest school events have overtaken my frustration with him. As I ask him my usual ‘Have you had an okay day?’ I can see the relief in his face, and then he looks at me with a furrowed brow. ‘Have you been drinking?’

  This behaviour is completely out of character for me on a school day. My anxieties about needing to be able to drive in case of an emergency with Joe mean I only usually drink on special occasions, or if I have a cold to help me sleep. I fill him in on the events of the afternoon, but I’m not sure how much of it he’s taken in as he turns the news on at the same time, and then sits in the chair I vacated to let him in the house. ‘Niall what’ll I do?’

  ‘You’re worrying over nothing Lauren. Just smile at the woman, say hello and leave it at that,’ he advises in his men provide solutions not empathy voice. ‘That Danny Southwell’s a proper headcase though. He was always getting red-carded, so we best keep a close eye on Joe’s new friend.’ Then he turns back to the news.

  I pick up my bag ready to head to the chippy. I can see that my problem is already solved in Niall’s eyes, and that’s the only advice I’ll get.

  Later in the evening I go to the secret Facebook Group I set up with Monique and leave her a message about the new kid and his mother. Of course she knows nothing about my history with the now called Bettina. I leave Facebook open whilst adding my eBay listings, and flip back when I see someone has posted. Sure enough it’s Monique.

  ‘Jeez, if you’re gonna change your name change it to something nice, but normal.’

  ‘She looks like Donatella Versace,’ I add with venom. Secret Facebook just makes me bitchier; I can’t resist it when there’s no-one else reading.

  ‘Lol. So what’s the WAG thing all about?’

  ‘It’s in her head; Danny played for Leeds. I googled him. He did okay, but he’s hardly Beckham.’

  ‘PMSL’

  ‘Dreading tomorrow ’

  ‘Ask her to come for coffee with us next Monday. I need to meet her. It’ll be a right laugh.’

&nb
sp; ‘Noooooooo.’

  ‘Yesssssss, pretty please.’

  ‘Oh Mon, I dunno. I doubt she’ll do our caff anyway. It’s not Harvey Nicks.’

  ‘She might turn up with a Chihuahua in her handbag. I bet she wears a Juicy Couture tracky with Uggs.’

  ‘ROFLMAO. No I think she likes leopard print ;)’

  ‘Piss off.’

  ‘Nite Cougar.’

  ‘Nite and INVITE her.’

  Niall comes to bed about ten which is ridiculously early for him. I keep my face firmly on my book, but he undresses and snuggles up beside me, placing a hand on my boob. I’m feeling quite squiffy from all the whisky I’ve consumed. I do feel quite in the mood, but choose to ignore him. ‘I’m sorry about last night,’ he says. ‘I didn’t mean to upset you. I just wanted you to know you don’t have to dress up for me.’

  ‘S’okay.’ I turn the page of my book.

  ‘Anyway to make amends…’

  He jumps out of bed to reveal a pair of crocodile pants. He runs around the bed with them on and I watch them snap, snap, snap. I collapse with giggles.

  He lands next to me. ‘So, d’ya think I’m sexy?’

  ‘Quit while you’re ahead mate,’ I state and turn towards him, pushing him back on the bed.

  The next morning I drop Joe off at the bottom of the school driveway. I know it’s pathetic and in doing so I had to pull up on the very zigzags I berate the other parents for parking on, but I just can’t face seeing Bettina this morning. I decide that the scheduled housework can stuff for the day as well. The weather is beautiful and I drive up to Ecclesall Road, which is chock full of second hand shops, gorgeous chocolatiers and coffee shops. I browse for vintage items and wander from shop to shop, just enjoying the day. I pick up some pieces of jewellery: a gorgeous bronze coloured sequined clutch bag and a handmade crocheted cream shrug. I have my latest book in my bag; a chick lit about someone travelling to Paris. At lunchtime I walk the few minutes to the local park, sit myself under a tree and eat a prawn baguette. The sun warms my skin and my head floats to the Champs Elysees. When it’s time to drive back to school, I lean back against the tree, ignoring the bark digging in my back and sigh. I really don’t want to go there. I take my phone out of my bag and ring Tanya instead.

 

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