Mad About You

by Sinéad Moriarty

  ‘Are you married, Gary?’ I asked, hoping a conversation about his wife would distract him, or at least shame him into taking his eyes off Babs for a second.

  Gary nodded, still staring at her. ‘Yes, and I have twins, a boy and a girl, so we were done in one go,’ he said, with a laugh.

  ‘I have two kids too. I think it’s plenty,’ I agreed. ‘I’m in awe of people who have more.’

  ‘Nutters, if you ask me. Two are a right handful.’

  ‘Does your wife work?’ I was determined to say ‘wife’ as often as possible.

  Gary snorted. ‘You must be joking. All Val does is spend my hard-earned money.’

  ‘It’s not easy being at home all day,’ I noted, defending his wife.

  ‘Does any woman really need ten pairs of black boots?’

  ‘Sometimes women shop because they’re lonely.’

  Gary looked at me. ‘Lonely? Her sister lives across the road and her mother’s around the corner.’

  ‘Well, being at home with small kids is never easy.’

  ‘Believe me, she tells me how hard it is every day.’ He sighed.

  Damn. Clearly everything was not good at home, which meant that Gary probably was having an affair with Babs. I had to get Babs to stop this. Media people were well-known gossips: one affair with a married producer could be described as a mistake, but two, Babs would be labelled a tramp. I needed to save my sister from herself.

  Over at the mirror Babs was standing in front of the two women who were now in bathrobes. ‘Mary, you’re an apple shape. Short and stumpy, with a huge middle-age spread. You need to do more digging and less eating. Glenda, you’re built like a rugby player. You’re so wide and chunky you have a man’s body, which is probably why your husband married you. Now I’m going to show you both some styles that will hide all your flaws and camouflage your flabby bits. Then we’ll do hair and makeup, and by the time we’ve finished with you, you’ll be unrecognizable. Let’s be honest here, you’re not supermodels, but I can improve you one hundred per cent.’

  The afternoon flew by. First, wigs were chosen – the budget didn’t stretch to taking the participants to get their hair coloured and cut. Next, Babs squeezed the women into super-strength slimming underwear.

  When Mary complained that she couldn’t breathe and thought she might pass out, Babs glared at her. ‘I have a reputation to maintain, and that corset is the only way you’re going to fit into the clothes I’ve chosen for you. You can’t go around town with your belly hanging out. So just suck it up.’

  Babs dressed Mary in straight-leg dark denim jeans, with very high boots and a vertical striped shirt that she belted at the waist.

  ‘I can’t walk in these boots,’ Mary grumbled.

  Babs bent down and yanked up the zips. ‘Stop moaning. You look better than you’ve ever looked in your life. You have to suffer to be fashionable.’

  While Babs dressed Glenda, I worked on Mary’s makeup. I warmed up her skin tone with some light liquid foundation and a soft blusher. I highlighted her blue eyes with grey shadow, then made them pop with a very subtle line of liquid eyeliner on the upper lid. Finally, I layered on black mascara and finished off with some neutral lip-gloss. Although I had no experience with wigs, I had to help her put hers on. It was a short black style, not dissimilar to her own hair, but the cut was much choppier and funkier and a side fringe swept across her face. Mary wasn’t allowed to see herself in any mirrors, and she was brought to the other side of the studio so Glenda wouldn’t see her. Then she had to sit on her own, no doubt wondering what on earth Babs had done to her.

  Babs dressed Glenda in beautifully tailored cream trousers, navy and cream shoes with kitten heels and a navy halter neck top with a deep V that made her shoulders look less wide. She added a long necklace, which drew the eye down.

  Glenda then came to me for makeup. She had brown eyes, so I decided to give her a smoky look. The poor woman needed to be vamped up. She needed to feel sexy and feminine and attractive again. Losing your husband to a man is about as crushing a blow as you can sustain.

  Glenda was very quiet in the chair. ‘Are you all right?’ I asked. ‘It sounds as if you’ve had a very difficult time.’

  She smiled at me. ‘I’m fine, thank you. This was Mary’s idea. She thought it would be a good distraction for me.’

  ‘Is it?’

  ‘It’s certainly different. I’ve never met anyone like that Barbara before. Have you known her long?’

  I decided to be vague. ‘A while.’

  ‘She’s so confident – I envy her that – so sure of herself. She’ll go far in life. I wish I’d been more like that when I was younger.’

  No, you don’t, I thought. Babs had no friends because she had alienated everyone at school and in all of her various jobs since then. In truth, she hadn’t made one true friend in life, no one she could rely on. She had lots of acquaintances and people to party with, but no one she could call in the middle of the night and cry to. Then again, Babs almost never cried because she never felt deeply enough about anything to get really upset. The only time in the last ten years that I could remember my sister crying was when Lara was born. Babs had come in to see her. Lara was in the incubator and they weren’t sure if she was going to make it. None of us could believe it when Babs shed a tear. We were all in complete shock. My mother had referred to it ever since as ‘the time Barbara cried’, which always made me smile.

  I blended Glenda’s makeup. ‘How are you managing? Are you feeling very low?’

  ‘I was initially, but I’ve got really good, loyal friends. They’ve all been round with dinners and bottles of wine and kind words. They even dragged me to a Zumba class last week and I enjoyed myself for the first time in ages.’

  ‘That’s wonderful to hear. Friends are so important, aren’t they?’

  ‘Oh, yes, love. Men come and go, but it’s your friends you can rely on.’

  I knew I shouldn’t ask, but I was dying to know. ‘Did you have no inclination that your husband was … well … interested in men?’ I’d read about women who came home from work one day to find their husband shagging Kevin the milkman, but I’d never met anyone to whom it had actually happened.

  Glenda closed her eyes so I could apply shadow. ‘I suppose if I look back now, I can see there were some signs. He did love Strictly Come Dancing and he stormed out of the cinema when we went to see Brokeback Mountain. I thought it was because he couldn’t stand to see two men together, but I know now it was because it was too close to the bone.’

  ‘I’m sorry. It must have been awful for you.’

  ‘It really was. But I must confess, now that I’m over the shock, I quite like having the house to myself. He was very moody, you see. I suppose it was all those hormones and suppressed urges. It’s much calmer now he’s gone. Mind you, it didn’t do my confidence much good.’

  I put Glenda’s wig on, a blonde bob. She looked completely different. The colour was too bright for her, but a similar cut with more subtle highlights would have been perfect. I hugged her. ‘You look fantastic! Wait until those locals get a look at you! They’ll be talking about how hot you are.’

  Babs came to get Glenda. ‘Wow, you look great. Good job, Emma.’

  Glenda and Mary were brought face to face with each other, their eyes closed. Then, as the camera rolled, they opened their eyes, screamed and whooped and got all teary.

  Karen stood beside me, surveying the scene. ‘Yesssss! We love it when they cry,’ she exclaimed. ‘But I’ll need you to fix their makeup for the next shot.’

  I rushed over and removed the mascara streaks. ‘You’re both stunners,’ I told them.

  Next they were placed side by side in front of covered mirrors. The cameras captured their reaction as Babs pulled the covers back and they saw their make-over. Both women were shocked silent, they kept touching their faces and turning around to look at their raised, perky bums.

  ‘I told you I was a miracle-worker,’ Bab
s said. ‘Don’t you look fabulous? Did you ever in your wildest dreams think you could turn into swans? Who would have thought I could make you two look so good? No man – gay or straight – would leave you now!’

  Turning to face the camera, Babs added, ‘Once again I’ve outdone myself. If you look awful and want to have your life changed, contact us via our website. I’m Barbara Burke, stylist extraordinaire and presenter of How To Look Good With Your Clothes On. See you next time.’

  9

  I couldn’t believe how tired I felt after just one day’s work. I suppose I was no longer used to standing on my feet all day. I packed up my stuff quickly – I couldn’t wait to get home to Yuri and Lara.

  As I was about to leave, Karen came up to me. ‘Well done, Emma. You were great today. I have to be honest, we were worried you were going to be another Babs, and there’s only room for one ego that size on this programme.’

  ‘There’s only room for one ego that size in the world,’ I said, laughing.

  Babs strutted over. ‘Let’s go. I’m starving. I’m coming back to your house for dinner. I’ve nothing to eat in mine.’

  We walked out and I headed for the tube station.

  ‘Where are you going?’ Babs asked.

  ‘The tube.’

  ‘I don’t do public transport. The only perk of this badly paid job is that I get taxis on account.’

  It sounded good to me – I’d be home quicker. As Babs hailed a cab, a young, dishevelled woman, with a mane of chestnut hair, came timidly towards us.

  ‘Excuse me, are you Barbara Burke?’

  Babs looked her up and down. ‘Who’s asking?’

  ‘I just love your show,’ the woman gushed. ‘You’re so funny and honest. It’s brilliant. And you’re so glamorous and stylish – you always look so cool.’

  I watched in amusement as Babs flicked her hair and bestowed a dazzling smile on her. ‘Thank you.’

  ‘Would you mind giving me some advice? My boyfriend just dumped me out of the blue and I really want him back. I love him. I know we’re meant to be together. I was thinking I’d get my hair cut and buy some new clothes to try and make him fancy me again.’

  Babs stared at her, the dazzling smile gone. ‘Are you insane? Your hair is your best asset – don’t even think about cutting it. Your clothes, on the other hand, are awful. Go out and buy yourself a short, tight black dress, fishnet stockings and black high heels. Men are simple, stupid creatures and a short skirt and high heels always gets them going. If that doesn’t work, shag his best friend. That’ll get his attention.’

  Babs climbed into a taxi and beckoned me to follow her. I turned to the poor woman, whose mouth was hanging open, and said gently, ‘Perhaps you could try talking to him and find out why he broke up with you. You might be able to work it out.’

  Babs reached out of the taxi, grabbed my arm and yanked me into it. She slammed the door shut.

  I rubbed my arm. ‘There’s no need to be so rough.’

  ‘Emma, you cannot encourage these people. If you get into a conversation with them, you could be stuck for ages and then they might start stalking you. I have to be careful – a lot of nutters out there prey on celebrities.’

  ‘Did you just refer to yourself as a celebrity?’

  ‘Yes, I did. I am a celebrity.’

  ‘Please tell me what pills you take. I want to live in your shiny world. It seems such fun.’

  Babs turned her back on me and looked out of the window. ‘You’re just jealous of my success.’

  I laughed. ‘Oh, Babs, it’s not your success I’m jealous of, it’s your confidence. It must be fantastic to think so highly of yourself.’

  She turned back to me with the hint of a smile. ‘Looks like I was born this way, as Lady Gaga might say. And I’m obviously adopted or the result of an affair Mum has never admitted to.’

  I grinned. ‘And where did that conclusion come from?’

  ‘I don’t have red hair, like you and Sean. I’m blonde and gorgeous. I’m incredibly talented and confident, while you two are all needy and insecure. There are no common genes at all.’

  I secretly hoped Yuri and Lara would end up with some of Babs’s confidence. Not all of it – God, they’d be unbearable – but a little would be great. I had been very shy as a teenager and it was only in my late twenties that I’d begun to feel in any way good about myself. I’d finally stopped trying to wear clothes that were too short and tight and dressed to suit my shape. Then, as if by some miracle, my hair turned from a carrot colour to a really nice auburn.

  But, if I’m honest, meeting James was what really boosted my confidence. He was handsome and smart and funny and, for some reason, he adored me. James made me feel ten feet tall. Being married to him gave me such a sense of security and love. He had been so supportive when we’d struggled to get pregnant and all through the adoption. We had seen couples torn apart by infertility, but it had brought us closer.

  I looked at Babs’s life and felt sorry for her. I’d have hated to be out clubbing and dating a different guy every week. I liked to feel safe and protected. Marriage and children had given me that. James and I had created our own little unit and I loved it. Babs thought my life was boring and mundane, but I was very happy. Well … if I was a stone lighter and we won the lotto, my life would be absolutely perfect.

  I glanced out of the window as the taxi passed groups of tourists wandering about in the September sunshine. So far, London had been OK – nice neighbours, new job, great nanny, happy husband … So far, so good.

  ‘Babs,’ I interrupted my sister’s frantic typing.

  ‘Hold on, I’m tweeting.’

  ‘What? That you’re in a taxi with your sister? Wow, how fascinating!’

  ‘People are very interested in what I have to say, actually. I have six thousand followers.’

  ‘That just means there are six thousand crazy-lonely people out there.’

  She ignored me and kept on typing. I watched the way her hair fell over her eyes, how she pursed her lips as she was thinking. Babs could push my buttons like no one else, but I loved her. I hated to see her wasting herself on men who had baggage and no real intention of making her happy. Why couldn’t she see that was all it was?

  ‘Babs, I want to talk to you about Gary.’

  ‘What about him?’ She continued to type, her thumb shooting around the on-screen keyboard.

  ‘Just remember that he’s married and has two kids, and you do not want to make the same stupid mistake.’

  She hit send and looked up at me. ‘You don’t know anything about it, so just butt out.’

  ‘I’m your sister and I have no intention of butting out. I’m telling you to stay away from him.’

  Babs cursed and threw her phone into her bag. ‘Seriously, Emma, get off my back. I’m in no mood for a lecture.’

  Before we could get into an argument, the taxi pulled up outside the house. I jumped out and rushed through the gate, up the path and through the front door. I was dying to see the children. They were at the kitchen table, helping Claire decorate a cake.

  ‘Mummy!’ They jumped down and rushed over to hug me.

  I wrapped my arms around them and inhaled their familiar scent. ‘I missed you, guys. How are you? Is everything OK?’

  ‘Yes, Mummy. Look, we’re making a brownie cake,’ Yuri said, beaming up at me.

  ‘Oi, Danny DeVito, don’t I get a hug?’

  Yuri threw his arms around Babs’s legs. ‘And what about you, Lara? Come on.’ Lara joined in. ‘That’s better. You should be nice to me – I’m the superstar in this family. Suck up to me because I’m the one who’s going to give you inappropriate presents and cash when you’re older.’

  I went over to Claire. The chocolate brownie cake had ‘MUMMY’ written in Smarties across the top. ‘Did you really make this?’ I asked.

  Claire blushed. ‘It’s a welcome-home-after-your-first-day present.’

  I was really touched by the gesture. ‘Th
anks! That’s such a lovely treat. How was today?’

  Claire began to tidy up the cooking utensils. ‘It went really well. I made fresh vegetable soup for their lunch.’

  ‘Oh, no! I should have told you – they hate vegetable soup!’

  Claire dried a bowl with a tea-towel. ‘Actually, they ate it all. Had seconds, too.’

  I frowned. ‘Really? Even Yuri?’

  ‘Yes, Mummy, I did. Claire’s soup was yummy,’ Yuri announced. ‘Much nicer than your yucky one.’

  I was stunned. ‘I’m amazed, Claire. What’s your secret?’

  ‘It’s nothing. I’m sure your soup is the same. I just put some cream and garlic into it, so maybe that was why they ate it.’

  I put my hand on her arm. ‘It’s OK, I’m not annoyed. I’m thrilled. Please continue to make it and get them to eat it. This is great news.’

  Babs came forward and proffered a hand. ‘Seeing as my sister isn’t going to introduce me, I’m Babs, Emma’s much younger sister.’

  Claire gave it a weak shake. ‘Hello, I’m Claire.’

  Babs plonked herself onto a chair. ‘I have to be honest, I think you must be mad to want to mind someone else’s kids all day. It has to be the worst job out there.’

  I managed to stop myself shouting at Babs to shut up. Claire was the reason I could go to work. Claire was dependable. Yuri and Lara liked her, and she had just got them to eat vegetable bloody soup. Babs needed to be muzzled.

  Claire busied herself wiping down the kitchen counter. ‘I love kids. I think they’re great.’

  Babs wrinkled her nose. ‘Why?’

  ‘Because they’re so sweet and innocent.’

  ‘Exactly. Well said, Claire.’ I was determined to take charge of the conversation. ‘Now, I think I’ll have a piece of this gorgeous cake.’

  ‘Easy there, Emma, you really don’t want to put on any more weight. If I was you, I’d eat some carrots or celery instead.’

  ‘Thanks, Babs, but I’m going to have some of the delicious cake Claire and the kids made specially for me.’