‘No. You know I hate that car. Why can’t it just do it automatically? I forgot.’
‘How could you forget? It’s bloody snowing outside?’
‘All right! I just did, OK!’
My, oh my, trouble in paradise. I tensed my stomach muscles so I didn’t let out an unfortunate chortle.
‘Well, if you “forgot” hopefully that means we can reverse it out of the garden and back onto the road and I’ll get us home.’
I glanced surreptitiously at Carrie to gauge her reaction. She turned her gaze on me and shot me an ever so slight conspiratorial eye roll.
30
Double Wedding Bells
‘I need to talk to you.’
‘It’s OK. I know what you’re going to say.’
‘How can you know?’
‘Because I’m a witch and saw it in my crystal ball last Wednesday.’
‘What do you mean, you saw it? God, you were never this weird when we were married.’
‘Yes I was. I just never told you. So, you’re getting married.’
‘Holy fuck, you’re creeping me out. Last Wednesday was the day I asked Carrie’s dad for her hand. How did you even know?’
‘I just did.’
Ali was earwigging. It was hard not to. The conversation was taking place at the kitchen sink, where I had been scrubbing a particularly crusty pan from the kids’ dinner as she was following a workout DVD on her laptop, propped up on the butcher’s block. Her post break-up fitness regime was in full swing.
‘Well, I wanted you to know before we told the kids this weekend.’
‘When will you get married?’
‘In the summer some time. Look, there’s something else.’ This I hadn’t predicted. ‘Carrie and I need your permission to let the kids appear in her new TV show.’
‘What?’ I whispered, stupefied.
‘We decided that instead of waiting for the TV production company to approach us, we would form one ourselves with a producer and pitch the idea to them of Carrie presenting a family show, centred round her getting married, making her own wedding cake, creating family favourites and feeding her whole brood.’
‘But they’re not her kids,’ I hissed.
‘I know they’re not her kids, but they’re my kids and we’re getting married so she will be their stepmum. It’s a modern family. Most people are in blended families now.’
‘And if I say no?’
‘Well, I hope you’re not going to.’ He laughed tautly.
‘What if I am, what will happen to the show?’
‘It won’t happen. It all hinges on the kids appearing and the girls being Carrie’s bridesmaids.’ Bile tickled my tonsils. ‘But the main focus will be the food. The kids are just to show a different side to Carrie. So her fans can see tiny snippets of our family life…’
‘I’ve got to go.’ I couldn’t listen any more and switched my phone off.
‘Don’t waste any more tears on that man!’ Ali ordered from across the kitchen, placing her weights carefully down on the floor. ‘Be strong.’
‘That’s not why I’m upset. I always knew he was going to get married. He wants the kids to appear in Carrie’s next show as part of their blended family prepping for the wedding.’
‘Oh, fuck. I’m so sorry. Trust him to turn his wedding into a money-spinning scheme.’
*
‘What should I do?’ I knew Mel would give me the best unbiased advice from her position as all-knowing sage. Jacqui and Ali were all for telling Sam to shove his TV show up his arse and fuck the consequences, but I had niggling doubts. ‘I have been avoiding him since he asked me and said he has to leave me alone for a while. He just doesn’t get how upsetting it all is. Just because I’ve met Carrie and didn’t stab her in the head with the bread knife doesn’t mean we can all go on a Center Parcs holiday as some modern blended family!’
‘Hmm, there’s two separate things going on here. Sam is getting married. And then his younger and successful wife wants to play mother to your three kids on her TV show, creating this image of caring stepmother while feeding them nutritious food all the while writing cookbooks and making her own wedding cake. I don’t understand why you’re so upset!’
‘I know, when you say it like that, I need to give myself a break.’
‘You do. It was always going to be hard when Sam got remarried, but he’s foisting this other huge thing on your shoulders, too. The first thing you can’t do anything about, but I suppose this one you could potentially fuck up for both of them and that’s why you need to look at your motives.’
‘Ha, I knew I should have spoken to you straight away.’
‘He went about it all the wrong way. He should have asked you first before he pitched it to the TV company.’
‘I know, that’s what I said! But he said I would have said no. He’s a total cunt! Apparently, Carrie was going to ask me when you were there during snowgate, and that was before they had pitched. She was the one who wanted to do it properly.’
‘Well, you kind of have to respect her for that. Brave lady asking you in your own home surrounded by your close friends.’
‘Except she didn’t, did she? She chickened out, probably because she knew Sam would kill her.’
‘You’re not going to want to hear this.’
‘Go on…’
‘This show is how those two make money, how they put food on the table and that includes giving you money as part of the divorce. What happens if that money dries up? What if this show is massive? You could ask for a cut of the profits. Or you could swallow it all gracefully and just think I don’t need to be attached to this circus. He can do what he likes with the children because they’re half his. Ask them if they want to be a part of it.’
A few days later, just as I was setting off for the French Café with Chug, I got a card in the post. I thought it was another Christmas card until I opened it. It was a pretty design with bunting spelling out ‘Thank you’ on the multi-coloured flags. Inside it read:
Dear Amanda,
Thank you so much for granting us permission for the children to come on board with the new project. I appreciate how hard it must be, now I am a mother myself. I completely admire you for the way you have handled everything and how you parent the children, always putting their needs first. It really shows and they love you so much.
Best wishes,
Carrie
I wondered how long it had taken her to think of what to say, before I shoved it on the butcher’s block and headed out. Halfway through word bingo at the café, my phone started ringing. It was Ali.
‘I just did something awful.’
‘What?’
‘I just keyed Jim’s car.’
‘What the fuck happened?’ I hissed once I’d got home and after I plugged Sonny into the TV to buy some time.
‘I was in that interview with the boss of the agency. She was lovely, really enthusiastic about my portfolio, and when she got to the pictures of Grace in that Mothercare shoot I styled a few months ago – remember when they were a baby short?’ I nodded. ‘Well, she stopped dead.’
‘Oh God, what?’
‘She said: “Oh, I know that little one, she’s my friend’s stepdaughter. Well, she will be her stepmum properly after the wedding.”’
‘Fuck me. What wedding? Does she know you’re Grace’s mum?’
‘No. I didn’t say anything. I didn’t know what to do because I actually couldn’t speak.’
‘I’m not surprised. Are you OK?’
‘Obviously not or I wouldn’t have keyed Jim’s car. Why didn’t he tell me? What’s wrong with him? He knew I would find out eventually. Sounds like Grace is going to the wedding so he would have had to tell me at some point.’
‘What else did that woman say?’ Disheartened, I slumped in one of the kitchen chairs sipping tea; Ali’s hands were shaking so badly she had to put her mug down.
‘Nothing, I didn’t ask anything. If I acted nosy then she
would know I was Grace’s mum. I mean, she must know Grace’s mum is called Ali and here was someone called Ali with pictures of her in her book.’
‘How did you leave it?’
‘With her offering to represent me! She’s one of the best new agents, up and coming. She said she even had some jobs she thought I would be good for, actual campaigns, not just crappy editorial.’
‘Fuckshitbollocksdickwipeknobend. So you said no?’ I covered my eyes at this point, not sure I could cope with the next dilemma.
‘I said yes. I need the work!’
‘Will she drop you if she knows?’
‘Business is business. I didn’t tell her I was represented by Jim for years. I said I had always been on my own, but felt the need to further my career. I never mentioned Grace at all. She doesn’t need to know.’
‘So how come you keyed the car? I mean, I know why, but surely the rage was gone by then.’
‘No. I fucking hate him! I get a new agent and he’s fucking that up for me before I even start. And now he’s getting a happy ever after. Why does it have to work out for him? I don’t want to know about his life, but it feels like I’ll never be free of him rubbing his amazing life in my face.’
‘You won’t. He’s Grace’s dad. That’s what’s so shit about your position.’
Ali sipped her tea, her hand a bit steadier.
‘And you have no idea when the wedding is?’
‘Nope, could be next week, for all I know. When I got off the bus, his car was parked by the Co-Op. So I just ran my house keys down the side facing the road, to look less suspicious, then legged it back here. It honestly made me feel so much better. I proper gouged it too. It actually looked like a lorry had grazed it by the time I’d finished.’
Ali’s phone pinged ten minutes later as I was putting a wash on and she was prepping Grace’s dinner for later.
‘Oh God, look!’
Going to be late dropping Grace. Some bastard scraped my car so have to drop at garage. They said they might be able to do it now.
*
‘Eye of newt and tail of dragon…’
‘What are you all doing?’ Neve asked, pink lipstick smeared all over her lips, missing them entirely. It was the Saturday after cargate.
‘Spells!’ Ali cried. ‘Now, where was I?’
‘Eye of newt?’ Jacqui suggested, sloshing her wine round in her glass. ‘Does anyone actually say “eye of newt”?’
‘Can we join in?’ Isla asked, eyeing the gristly ham bone resting on the work surface, peeking out of the butcher’s greaseproof wrapping paper.
‘Yes, please, can we?’ Neve begged. ‘We can be witches’ assistants.’
‘No, either watch the film or go upstairs and play dressing up, or you can go to bed early.’ Their faces fell. Grace was already in bed and Sonny was jacked up on sugar with Joe in the living room watching High School Musical – his latest obsession. Diggers were yesterday’s news.
‘Have you got the T-shirt?’ I asked Ali. ‘Jacqui, can you light all the candles – I think we need to get in the mood.’ I had already switched off the overhead spotlights. The girls disappeared upstairs and we set to work in our coven of three.
‘How have you got Jim’s T-shirt?’ Jacqui asked, distastefully fingering it like it was a dead animal pelt.
‘It was just in a bag of stuff and I never threw it out. I did mean to give it to him, then forgot.’
‘You need to wrap the ham bone up in the T-shirt, put it in a plastic bag, tie the bag with string then everything goes in that Tupperware box with three cups of salted water.’
‘That’s it?’ Ali asked, sounding disappointed. ‘This is the “Get Over Your Ex spell”?’
‘Then we leave it for a week, and next Saturday at ten a.m. we bury the bone in the garden like a dog.’
‘No eye of newt?’
I shook my head.
‘Can we do another spell?’
I thumbed through my book to find one we could all join in with.
‘Create your own destiny?’
‘Oooh, yes!’ Jacqui clapped her hands. ‘I want to do that.’
‘We all have to take showers, but I think we can forgo that. I can cleanse us all with my sage smudging stick.’ I produced my sage bundle tightly bound by string, used in Beardy Weirdy ceremonies to banish negativity and cleanse particularly grungy auras.
‘We need a chopped-up apple, some cucumber, two white candles, paper and pen and a mirror.’
After I had wafted burning sage around us and lit the white candles, we all had to inhale the crisp smell from the cucumber and apple and focus on what we wanted to achieve in the future.
‘Do we write them down once we know?’ Ali asked.
‘Yes, and then we’ll go over to the mirror and chant and read aloud what we want.
‘Ready?’ The other two nodded after we’d finished our memos to the universe. I held up the book and we began in unison.
‘I will travel from the depth to the light. I am my own universe – capable of all things. I create my own destiny.’
‘You go first, Jacqui.’
‘After my yoga course I would like to make a success of teaching and start up my own local group. I would like to meet someone but just for fun, to go on some dates and see what happens. I will do this in the future.’
Ali spoke next.
‘I want to do well at work so that one day I can stand on my own two feet and leave the attic. I need one big client at work who keeps rebooking me for regular shoots. I would also like to let go of the anger about Jim and try and move on so I can meet someone else. I will do this in the future.’
‘I want my book to get published so I can finally earn some proper money. I will do this in the future.’
I had delivered the first draft to my agent a few weeks previously and was anxiously awaiting rewrites. Pressing send had been a momentous occasion. It had been written in such frenzied drawn-out fits and starts that I was unable to gauge which way it was going to go. ‘Come on, let’s go and burn everything in the magic chimenea and send it out into the ether.’
At ten a.m. the following Saturday, Ali reverently carried the ham bone wrapped in newspaper to the back of the garden, both of us wearing our parkas to shield against the drizzle.
‘Where shall I bury it?’
‘Near the acer tree? There’s some earth underneath where nothing grows.’
Ali got down on her hands and knees and hacked away at the soggy leaf-covered soil with the trowel until the hole was big enough, and placed the putrid bone in its shallow grave.
‘Goodbye, Jim. Hello, new life. I hope Ginger doesn’t dig you up!’
31
Emergency Christmas Brownies
‘I don’t want her to go,’ Ali grizzled into her medicinal wine at Christmas Eve lunchtime. All four kids were sitting watching TV, coats on their knees, bags packed like evacuees, ready for their first Christmas with their dads.
‘Just imagine it’s the same as when Grace goes for a weekend and we can do whatever we like,’ I reasoned.
‘But it isn’t! It’s Christmas Day tomorrow. The first one without Dad! At least Mum is with my brother and his kids. I couldn’t face being with another family.’
‘No, me neither.’ I had turned down my brother’s kind offer of Christmas with him: but felt the same. Watching my niece and nephew open their presents would probably tip me over the edge, knowing that Sam and Carrie were playing happy families and possibly filming footage for their sparkly new TV show.
‘I just wish we could block out the day and pretend it isn’t happening.’
‘Funny you should say that; I’ve had a cunning plan…’
*
‘Brownies for breakfast?’ Jacqui asked. ‘But it’s Christmas Day. We should be having champagne and scrambled eggs and smoked salmon.’ She poked her brownie with a disdainful finger. ‘If I’m being forced into a no-kids Christmas then it has to be top class!’
‘We can
eat all that after,’ Ali said, grinning mischievously. ‘These are special Christmas brownies.’
‘What’s so special about them?’
‘They’re hash brownies. Space cakes. They get you high…’ I laughed.
‘Where did you get them?’ she asked me suspiciously.
‘I made them. Woody hid his weed stash in my writer’s desk. I found it by accident a few weeks ago when I was looking for the window locks.’
‘I wonder what else he’s stashed around the house?’ Jacqui asked, closely inspecting her brownie. ‘I bet there’s all sorts.’
We cleared away breakfast, spoke to our parents and siblings on the phone and waited.
‘Should we drink more?’ Ali asked after half an hour. ‘I can’t feel anything.’
‘Patience comes to those who wait…’ I said, and poured us all another glass of champagne.
*
‘I want to lie in the grass, feel the energy of the earth,’ Jacqui babbled, swaying from side to side, staring out of the glass doors.
‘But it’s freezing,’ Ali giggled, scoffing her fourth mince pie in a row. ‘Do you really want to go out there when we can stay in here and eat?’
‘Yes, come on. Let’s get our coats on and lie in the garden.’ House music was blasting out of the speakers in the kitchen, my iPod plugged into the PA system. Ginger had hidden in Meg’s bed since breakfast, terrified. Jacqui had made us do yoga earlier but I fell over on my head when we started doing sun salutes because my legs buckled, so we stopped. That was when she suggested lying down outside instead.
‘Let the earth hold you. It will be grounding and stop you falling over.’
‘I feel like I’m sinking,’ Ali said. ‘What if we can’t get up because we’re so spackered?’
‘We will get up. Chill,’ Jacqui said. ‘Wow, you know what, I must eat space cakes all the time. It opens up your crown chakra. I can feel the universe sending me lots of love.’
The Single Mums' Mansion: The bestselling feel-good, laugh out loud rom com Page 22