by Annie Lyons
‘Hi, Caroline. Can I get you ladies a drink?’ We ordered Prosecco. Tony eyed me as he poured three glasses. ‘Great turn-out this evening. It’s usually pretty empty on a Thursday night but you’ve attracted quite a following.’
I smiled. ‘We’ve got a very successful media campaign.’
He laughed. ‘Yes, I heard about the radio show – about time someone stood up for the community.’ He pushed the glasses towards us. ‘This one’s on the house.’
‘That’s very kind – thank you,’ I said. ‘Are the others here already?’
He nodded. ‘They’re setting up through that doorway in the next room. If tonight goes well, I’ll be booking you every week,’ he joked.
‘Shall we go through?’ I said to the girls.
‘You go, babes,’ said Zoe. ‘Mands and I will sit in here for now, ’kay?’
I nodded and walked through to the other room. Until relatively recently, The Goldfinch Tavern had been one of those London pubs that I had always been too terrified to enter, rather like the pub Natalie and I had the misfortune to go into yesterday. However, about a year ago, it had been bought by a chain, who had renovated it to look like a trendy local with exposed brick, painted wood floors and expensive artisan beers. It was just what the area needed.
‘Evening, Caroline,’ smiled Guy as I entered the room. ‘This is great, isn’t it?’
I nodded. Pamela bustled over. ‘Ooh, Caroline, I heard you and Nat on the radio. You were wonderful, really wonderful.’
‘Thank you. Is Natalie here yet?
‘I think she popped to the loo,’ she said.
‘I’ll just go and check she’s okay.’
I followed the sign to the toilets. Natalie was standing at the mirror, putting on lipstick. I was pleased to see that she was making an effort. She glanced up as I entered. ‘Come to check up on me?’ Oh dear. She’d already had a couple of drinks. That didn’t bode well.
‘I was wondering how you were after yesterday?’ I said. ‘It was difficult to talk with the children there.’ This was an understatement. It had been chaos and Natalie had seemed in a hurry when she picked up Woody. She had told me that it was all fine. I wasn’t sure if I believed her.
She sighed. ‘Apparently, the girl is a daughter of one of Dan’s old college friends. He’s known her since she was small and ironically he was counselling her. She’d fallen out with her parents and it was Uncle Dan to the rescue!’
‘Do you believe him?’ I asked. Because I’m not sure that I do.
‘I’ve decided that if I think about any of it too much, I will go insane.’ She puckered her lips and blotted them together.
‘So you do believe him?’
She fixed me with a look. ‘I don’t think I have a choice.’
Doly appeared at the door. ‘Curtain call!’ she cried.
‘Are you sure you’re okay?’ I asked Natalie on the way out.
‘I’m fine, Caroline. Really. The show must go on!’ she said with a bitter smile.
We gathered in one corner of the pub. I looked into the audience to see if Amanda and Zoe had come through but they were nowhere to be seen.
It was fine. At least they’d turned up. It didn’t matter where they sat. Besides, it was time to focus on the job at hand.
I was surprised to realise that I was feeling a little nervous. This was very unlike me.
‘There’s a photographer from the local paper here tonight,’ whispered Doly.
‘Oh, I wish I’d known. I’d have washed my hair,’ grinned Jim, stroking his bald head. Everyone laughed.
‘Okay, shall we begin with a gentle warm-up? How about “S.O.S.”? Nice and easy to get us started?’ said Guy. We nodded in agreement. I found myself standing between Natalie and Doly. ‘So, it’s going to be different to rehearsals because of the background noise but don’t let that put you off. Breathe and sing from down here,’ he said, gesturing towards his diaphragm.
He started the backing track and we were off. People looked up from their tables as we began to sing. I noticed them smiling and nodding along to the music. I did my best to channel my nerves into positive energy.
‘Great,’ said Guy, when we’d finished. ‘You just need to up the volume a tad and remember to smile but otherwise great. So, order of songs will be “California Dreamin’”, “Chasing Cars”, “Something Inside So Strong”, “Everybody’s Changing” and “Halo”.’
It wasn’t an absolutely perfect performance. The harmonies were a little off during ‘Chasing Cars’, we were out of time with the backing track for ‘Halo’ and it was clear that we had quite a bit to do on ‘Something Inside So Strong’ in time for the south-east London choir heats, but I have to confess that I enjoyed every second.
I hadn’t expected to feel quite so uplifted. It made me realise how rare it was to feel like that nowadays, as if I’d forgotten how to enjoy myself. Usually, I was too busy worrying about my mother or Matilda to relax. What were people in my situation called? ‘The sandwich generation.’ Too caught up with raising our children and fretting about our parents to enjoy our lives any more. Stuck in the middle, anxious, tired and never having any fun. But this was fun. This was wonderful fun – singing, entertaining, being part of something joyous and special. I loved it.
I noticed Natalie wipe away a tear at the end of ‘Something Inside So Strong’. I was about to reach out a hand to touch her arm but I thought better of it. It would have probably made things worse.
‘That was brilliant,’ murmured Doly as we finished. The crowd were cheering and calling for an encore. Jim was waving and bowing. Guy turned to address the crowd.
‘Thank you very much,’ he said. ‘It’s just a short set tonight as we haven’t been together long, but we would welcome any new attendees and please, if you haven’t signed the petition to save Hope Street Community Hall, do so tonight. Tell your friends, tell your local councillor, your MP and your mum that we want the hall to stay.’ There was a cheer of agreement. Guy continued, ‘We’ll be competing in the Community Choir Championships in a couple of months’ time and we really need your support to convince the council to keep the hall open for local people. Thank you.’ Everyone applauded and Guy turned back to us. ‘I think we deserve a drink, don’t you?’
I followed Natalie and Doly into the bar area. I noticed that Amanda and Zoe were sitting at a table in the far corner. I was a little hurt that they hadn’t bothered to come in to listen but brushed it aside as they waved for me to join them.
Amanda topped up my glass. ‘Sounded sublime, darling,’ she said. ‘And your choirmaster is a real dish, isn’t he?’
I laughed. ‘You’re terrible, Mands. He’s just started as the music teacher at school.’
‘Wow, I must get up to the playground a bit more often,’ she purred.
Zoe and I exchanged amused glances. ‘Is that the woman you nearly ran over one day then?’ asked Zoe, gesturing towards Natalie.
I nodded. ‘She was in a bit of a state. She’s got problems with her marriage. She saw her estranged husband with another woman yesterday but apparently he claimed that she was, “just a friend”,’ I said, making inverted commas with my fingers. Why did I say that? That was low. I immediately wished I’d kept quiet as Amanda and Zoe leant in like hyenas going for a kill, feasting on gossip.
‘Ooh,’ winced Amanda. ‘Who would honestly believe a line like that? Mind you, she’s a bit all over the place, isn’t she?’
I looked over to the bar. It was clear that Natalie had over-indulged on the Prosecco. She was laughing and swaying drunkenly as she talked to Doly and Guy. At one stage she had to grab his arm to steady herself. He was very chivalrous but it was rather an outrageous display.
‘Still, I’m not surprised after hearing her on that radio interview – it was a little OTT. Are you sure you know what you’re getting into, darling?’ asked Zoe.
I took a sip of my drink. ‘She’s managed to get the campaign noticed so it’s all to the good, I supp
ose.’
‘No such thing as bad publicity, eh darl?’ said Amanda.
As if on cue, Natalie appeared at our table. ‘Hellooo!’ she cried, lunging forwards and wrapping her arms around me. I stiffened at her touch. ‘Ooh sorry, I forgot you don’t do physical contact,’ she giggled, taking a step back.
I noticed Amanda staring with a look of horror on her face. She’d never been one to conceal her inner feelings. Natalie noticed it too. ‘Oh, hello, Amanda, isn’t it? Are you okay? You look as if you’ve just smelt a turd.’ She sniggered and took another sip of her drink. Amanda raised her eyebrows at me.
‘You’re not very friendly, are you?’ she slurred before turning to Zoe. ‘What about you? Are you friendly?’
‘Natalie,’ I said. ‘You’re embarrassing yourself.’ And me.
Natalie stared at me. ‘Oh sorry, Caroline – are you not talking to me because you’re with your little school-mum clique? Don’t I fit in? Will you only talk to me when you need something?’
‘Look, we were having a private chat and you’ve interrupted, which is very rude. Your husband may be having an affair but that’s no excuse,’ said Amanda, folding her arms.
Thanks, Amanda. You’ve dropped me in it now.
Natalie froze. She stared at me, hurt and disappointment etched all over her face ‘How dare you? I told you that in confidence, Caroline.’ I felt my stomach dip with guilt.
Guy appeared by our table and touched her gently on the arm. ‘Nat? Why don’t I walk you home?’
‘Natalie…’ I began.
She held up one hand. ‘Don’t, Caroline. Just don’t.’ She turned to Guy. ‘Right, I need to go and have some fun. Are you coming?’ She headed for the door. Guy stared at me for a second before turning and following her. I noticed Doly and Pamela looking over and tried to give them a reassuring smile before turning back to Amanda and Zoe.
‘Dear me,’ said Amanda, refilling our glasses and taking a sip from hers. ‘Some people are so touchy. Mind you, she seemed to have your choirmaster in the palm of her hand so I’m sure she’ll be fine.’ Zoe laughed. I pretended to join in with a weak smile but really I was feeling guilty – horribly, horribly guilty.
Another bottle of Prosecco between the three of us helped to numb some of my worries but my guilt still niggled. I said goodbye to Amanda and Zoe on the corner before heading off towards home.
As Amanda kissed me on both cheeks, she said, ‘Good luck with the crazy bitch.’ Zoe laughed.
For a moment I was transported back to secondary school and a girl called Mary who I used to like. She had been a quiet, studious sort but with a biting sense of humour. We were pretty inseparable for the first three years of secondary school until a girl called Danielle joined. She already had an impressive bust and claimed to have given blow-jobs to at least three boys. There was something about her that seemed so mysterious and dangerous and I started to form a friendship of sorts with her. One day, Mary and I were sitting at lunch when Danielle appeared at our side.
‘Mind if I join you?’ she said, sitting down without waiting for an answer, stretching her long legs out under the table and flicking her hair.
I noticed Mary flinch but I said as casually as I could, ‘Course not.’
She took out a foil-wrapped package. Inside was a tortilla wrap filled with what looked like chicken. It seemed so much more exotic than my boring curled-bread cheese sandwiches. At that moment, I wanted to be her friend so badly, for her to like me and to unlock the secrets of her exciting world. ‘So-o,’ she began, picking out a piece of chicken and popping it into her mouth. ‘How many boys have you given hand-jobs to?’
I noticed Mary flick her gaze nervously in my direction. We had no frame of reference for this kind of chat. We were only fourteen and our knowledge of sex didn’t extend beyond Mrs Cooper-Rowe’s embarrassed teachings of what her lisp forced her to pronounce as ‘thexual intercourth’. Yes, we read Cosmopolitan, our eyes and brains boggling with the complexity of G-spots and masturbation but we didn’t understand it. We rarely came into contact with boys and when our school organised discos with the local boys’ grammar, we were always far to terrified to talk to them, whilst they were far too immature to do anything apart from skid across the floor on their knees.
But whilst poor Mary wanted the ground to swallow her up at this moment, I wanted to know everything. It was time. I needed this.
‘Oh, just a couple,’ I said vaguely. Mary frowned at my lie but I couldn’t stop now. ‘How about you?’
‘Seventeen,’ replied Danielle. ‘Although one of them was my older cousin, which I know is a bit gross but actually, it’s not illegal.’
‘Probably should be,’ observed Mary. I held my breath as I noticed her clap a hand over her mouth. Danielle fixed her with a narrow-eyed stare. It was the stare of big cats when they’ve locked onto their prey.
‘So, Mary, Mary, quite contrary, how many boys have you blown?’
Mary flushed scarlet from her neck to her forehead. ‘That’s none of your business,’ she said, trying to keep her cool. She glanced at me, the desperation plain for all to see. Help me, said the look, you’re supposed to be my friend.
We have to face choices throughout our lives, some big, some small. So when I flicked a smile at Danielle and then turned back to Mary and said, ‘It’s only a joke,’ I had made a choice. I had chosen Danielle over Mary – the lion over the gazelle. Unsurprisingly, Mary never spoke to me again and was haunted by the rhyme which the mean girls chanted as she passed.
‘Mary, Mary, quite contrary, how many boys have you blown?’
I never joined in but I was always with them, which is basically the same thing.
I think that’s why, when Amanda dismissed Natalie as a ‘crazy bitch’, I didn’t laugh. I just smiled goodbye and headed off up the road.
It was a mild night and I felt the promise of summer evenings ahead as I noticed nodding crowds of tulips in the gardens along Hope Street.
I let myself in through the front door and stood in the kitchen for a second drinking a glass of water. I took out my phone, my mind set on texting Natalie. My fingers hovered over the buttons. What should I say? I wasn’t one for apologising without good reason but I knew when I’d over-stepped the mark. I typed,
Dear Natalie, apologies if you took offence,
before replacing it with,
apologies for any offence caused.
I stared at the words for a second before deleting the lot. These things were best dealt with face to face and not when you were a little drunk. I refilled my water glass and climbed the stairs.
Matilda was just coming out of the bathroom. ‘You’re very late, Mummy, it’s the middle of the night,’ she observed, scandalised. I laughed, reached forwards and kissed the top of her head. It was warm and comforting. ‘Ooh, you stink of booze,’ she said.
‘Where did you learn that word?’ I asked.
She shrugged. ‘Daddy.’
‘Do you want me to tuck you in?’
‘No thanks,’ she said before turning on her heels back towards her bedroom. My heart gave a leap of longing. Please let me tuck you in, let me smooth your hair and kiss you goodnight. She shut the door behind her and that was that.
I opened the door to our bedroom. ‘Hey,’ I said as I noticed Oliver propped up in bed, staring at his iPad.
‘Hey you,’ he replied. I sat next to him on the bed. He continued to stare at the iPad so I wheedled my way in front of it. He laughed. ‘Oh, you want some attention, do you?’
‘Yes, please,’ I said, snuggling closer.
‘Are you drunk?’
‘A little,’ I said, wrapping my arms around his chest. He kissed the top of my head before continuing to swipe at the screen. I waited for a second before beginning to kiss his neck and work my hands over his body. ‘But I’m not too drunk for this,’ I added, kissing his chin and mouth.
He stiffened but not in the way I was hoping. ‘Sorry, Caroline, I’m not really i
n the mood tonight,’ he said.
‘Oh,’ I said, trying and failing not to feel hurt. I couldn’t remember the last time he had rejected my advances, in fact I wasn’t sure that it had ever happened.
He knew what I was thinking and pulled me to him, kissing me gently. ‘I’ve just got a lot on my plate.’
‘Is everything okay?’ I asked, shifting to one side, studying his face for information. He sighed and was about to open his mouth to speak when his phone rang. He glanced at it. ‘Sorry. I have to take this,’ he said, climbing out of bed and heading downstairs as he answered. ‘Jamie, what’s going on?’
He didn’t return within five minutes so I got ready for bed. By the time I’d cleansed, moisturised and brushed my teeth, he’d returned. ‘What’s going on?’ I asked.
He ran a hand through his hair. ‘There’s a merger going to be announced tomorrow.’
‘Oh. Right. What does that mean?’
He furrowed his brow. ‘It means upheaval, change and redundancies.’
‘But you’ll be okay? You’re vital to their operations, aren’t you? They can’t manage without you?’
He pulled me close and kissed me. ‘If only you were in charge, darling.’ He smiled but I noticed worry in his eyes. ‘I don’t know, Caroline. I just don’t know. Look, I need to do some work, make sure I’m on it when the Americans arrive tomorrow. You go to bed, okay?’
‘Okay,’ I said, feeling uncertain. ‘I love you,’ I added, kissing his cheek.
He smiled. ‘I love you too. And don’t worry, everything will be fine.’
I climbed into bed feeling a growing sense of unease. These were the words my father had used before he’d got his final diagnosis. I turned out the light and closed my eyes, hoping that alcohol would lull me into easy sleep. I was just beginning to drop off when my phone buzzed. I thought it was a text but then it buzzed again, signalling a phone call. I rolled over and glanced at the screen. It was the nursing home. I answered, ready to give them a piece of my mind.