by Fiona Harper
It was just as another of these cogent moments stretched out to form a semblance of normality that she heard a short rap on her window. She looked up, face tear-streaked and soggy, to find Maggs standing there. Claire rolled down the window. Maggs was looking rather grim.
‘I’m so sorry …’ she began, but then the tears took over again. A moment later, she heard the passenger door open, the squeak of a seat as Maggs sat down. Then the door closed again and they were cocooned in the shell of Claire’s tiny car. Claire looked across, eyes pleading with Maggs to understand.
It was the one bright flicker in this afternoon of misery that the look on Maggs’s face suggested she did.
‘I’m so sorry,’ Claire began again, speaking between hiccups. ‘I shouldn’t have left you like that! I shouldn’t have—’
Maggs held up a hand. Claire was grateful. Even if she’d known what the rest of that sentence was going to be, she didn’t know if she’d be able to get through it.
‘It’s okay,’ Maggs said seriously. ‘I might not know exactly what went on in there between you and your father, but I understand.’
Claire reached into her handbag for a tissue and blew her nose. While she was mopping up her eyes she said, ‘Where did you go?’
Maggs nodded towards the nursing home. ‘In there.’
‘Why?’
‘To see the bastard for myself.’
Claire kept staring at Maggs. ‘And?’
Maggs shrugged. ‘Why don’t you tell me what your visit was like first? It might help make sense of mine.’
Claire closed her eyes. She didn’t want to go back to that bland little lounge with its floral sofas and sunny windows, not even in her imagination. ‘There was nothing,’ she said in a whisper, eyes still closed. ‘Gran was wrong. There was nothing beneath his surface.’ She opened her eyes and looked at Maggs, who was unusually quiet. ‘He didn’t want to see me, not really,’ she explained. ‘He just wanted to jerk my puppet strings and see if I would still dance for him.’
Maggs raised her eyebrows. ‘You really believe that?’
Claire nodded. ‘I don’t know … Maybe being ill has made him feel weak. Maybe he needed to exert some power over the one being in this world he’d always been certain of controlling.’ Tears sprung to her eyes again. ‘But I didn’t let him, Maggs. I didn’t let him.’
Maggs reached over and patted her knee. ‘I know,’ she said, nodding.
Claire took some comfort in that. She blew her nose again, used a fresh tissue to mop up her face, then heaved in a deep breath. ‘What did he say to you?’ she finally remembered to ask.
Maggs was silent for a moment. She looked down at the hands in her lap. ‘I don’t think now is the right time to tell you,’ she said simply and then she looked at Claire, a gentle smile in her eyes. ‘Why don’t you drive me home and I’ll make you a nice cup of tea?’
Chapter Twenty-Nine
What Does A Woman Do?
The ringing on Claire’s doorbell was so insistent that she sprinted down the stairs to open the front door. When she did, she found Abby there, party dress on, make-up half done and a large brown stain spreading across her cream skirt. Abby couldn’t say anything, just shook her head and looked as if she was about to burst into tears. Claire quickly leapt into action and ushered her upstairs to her flat where she let Abby borrow her dressing gown while she tried to scrub the stain out of the dress.
‘What on earth is this?’ she asked. ‘It just won’t budge!’
‘Coke,’ Abby said glumly. ‘I had some on my dressing table while I was getting ready and I knocked it over when I was trying to put my mascara on myself.’
Claire stopped scrubbing and looked at the stain in despair. It had faded a little, but not enough, and even if she did manage to get it out, she didn’t know how they were going to get the dress dry again in time for the party. She didn’t have a tumble drier – which would probably have ruined this vintage dress anyway – and Abby was due at The Glass Bottom Boat in under two hours.
‘I thought Kitty and Grace were going to help you?’
Abby nodded. ‘They were, but it was hard enough to stay calm as it is, and they get so giggly and … girly.’
Claire smiled. She knew exactly what Abby meant.
‘I asked them to show me how to do some simple make-up and I’ve been practising all week. Getting dressed on my own wasn’t a problem. Or, at least, I didn’t think it would be.’
‘Come on,’ Claire said, leading Abby to her bedroom, where she threw her wardrobe doors wide. ‘There’s got to be something in here that will work. My style’s a lot less …’ she searched for a word that wouldn’t sound rude ‘… well, a lot less than Kitty’s.’
It turned out that style wasn’t the problem, but length and fit were. Abby was taller than Claire and much more up and down where Claire went in and out. The bits that were supposed to be filled with curves were baggy and the bits that were supposed to skim were stretched tight. After three dresses, Abby looked as if she might really cry this time.
‘It’s fine,’ Claire said, giving her a quick hug. ‘I’m going to call for reinforcements.’
She prayed silently as she dialled, hoping the magic could happen once again.
Ten minutes later, Kitty was knocking at her door with a familiar blue suitcase at her side. Claire almost didn’t recognise her at first, because her face was scrubbed of make-up, her hair in a loose ponytail and she was wearing jogging bottoms and T-shirt. Kitty rolled her eyes. ‘I know … But I was having a slobby afternoon at home while Grace is at work. Anyway, what I look like doesn’t matter.’ She tapped the suitcase. ‘I came prepared for Plan B,’ she added, with all the seriousness of a general going into battle. ‘Where is she?’
Claire nodded upstairs and they both rushed up to her spare room, where Abby was waiting. ‘Right,’ Kitty said, looking her up and down. ‘I haven’t got anything as good as the white dress, but I’ve got a few things in here that might work. I borrowed a few pieces from my vintage shop owner friend when we were looking for that one …’
‘Oh, Kitty,’ Abby said, a tear leaking down her face as she ran up and hugged her. ‘I don’t know what I’d do without you!’
Kitty who was momentarily – and rather surprisingly – silenced by Abby’s unexpected display of affection just mumbled, ‘That’s what friends are for, isn’t it?’
‘I can’t wear this!’
*
Claire and Kitty stood behind Abby and joined her as she looked at her reflection in the mirror. ‘I admit, the other one suited you better, but it fits,’ Claire said helpfully.
Abby twisted her head to look at Kitty. ‘I really appreciate your help, I really do, but it’s … it’s …’ She turned her head back to stare in the mirror.
It was a bit, Claire thought. While a similar shape to the cream dress that was now soaking in Claire’s sink, this one had a large white collar and cuffs and the main fabric had a dark red background and was covered with polka dots as big as golf balls.
‘We’ll have to go more dramatic with the make-up, of course,’ Kitty said, pulling a tube of lipstick out of her bag. Abby looked as if she was going to bolt.
‘Kitty, why don’t you go and put the kettle on and make us all a cup of tea,’ Claire said, sitting down on the bed and gesturing for Abby to do the same. For a moment it looked as if Kitty was going to argue, but then she put her lipstick down on Claire’s desk and slid from the room.
‘I know this isn’t what you envisioned,’ Claire said to a clearly terrified-looking Abby, ‘but it’s a dress, and you’ll only have to wear it for a few hours.’
‘I—I c-can’t walk down the road like this.’
‘I’ll give you a lift. You just have to go in and out, if you like, just let your mum see you. I’m sure she’ll just be pleased you made the effort and, for what it’s worth, although I know you think it’s not your style, I actually think you look very pretty in it. Not many people can pull of
f that red, but you’ve got just the right skin tone.’
Abby’s lips crumpled and she shook her head. ‘I don’t know …’
While Claire’s heart squeezed with sympathy for Abby, she decided it was time to get a little firmer. Abby would kick herself later if she bottled out now. She waited for her to look her in the eye and then she simply said, ‘I suppose it depends how badly you want those tickets.’
Claire would have offered to lend her the money to pay for them, but she had a feeling that this showdown between Abby and her mother had been a long time coming and that it was something she really needed to see through.
Abby nodded and Claire could see her mulling those words over. They sat there in silence until Kitty came back with three cups of tea on a tray. ‘No offence,’ Kitty said to Abby, ‘but could you take the dress off before you drink yours? One vintage disaster a night is about as much as I can take.’
Abby stood up and reached for the zip at the back of her neck, but then she stopped and her hand fell to her side. ‘No,’ she said. ‘I’m not going to take it off. I’m going to wear the bloody thing.’ She looked up at Claire, a new fire in her eyes. ‘Everything else in my life might be messed up at the moment, but I am flipping well going to that match!’ She looked at Kitty. ‘Hand me that lipstick.’
Chapter Thirty
Between Friends
Ellen had promised Dominic a spaghetti bolognese to make up for the one he’d missed, so on Saturday evening he found himself round at their house again. Pete was minding Sammy in the lounge while Ellen cooked and Dominic joined him. For some reason, they ended up on the floor playing with a wooden train set that had enough track to make a branch line that went out into the hall and back again. Sammy was completely absorbed, making gentle chuffing noises as he pushed his train along the track.
Pete looked across at Dominic as he tried to work out how to use up the last few pieces of unlaid track. ‘Did you see the doc yesterday?’
Dominic nodded.
‘What did he say?’
‘It’s good news, really. As long as I follow a few ground rules while I’m working and keep up with the physio exercises, he says I should be able to work soon, as long as it’s nothing too extreme.’
‘What does that mean for the China thing?’
‘While the location’s a bit exotic, the camera work shouldn’t be that strenuous. It’s a history documentary, not a piece on extreme sports or Triad gangs, after all.’
‘Great!’ said Pete, grinning. ‘So you’ve told the BBC guys you can do it?’
Dominic inhaled. ‘Not yet.’
Pete frowned. ‘I thought you were stoked about getting that job.’
‘I was—I mean, I am,’ Dominic said with conviction. He fiddled with the wheel on a wooden engine Sammy wasn’t using. ‘I just thought maybe I shouldn’t jump into anything too soon, you know. Maybe I should take up the offer of doing that London-based job after all.’
Pete let the piece of track he was holding fall to the floor. ‘What? The hotel thing?’
Dominic nodded.
Pete blinked, then frowned. ‘But you said – and I quote – I’d hate every minute of making that film and I’ll hate myself even more when it comes out and everyone sees my name attached to it!”‘
The tiny wooden train became very fascinating all of a sudden. Dominic spun one of its wheels faster and faster while he thought. ‘I know …’
‘Mate? What’s really going on? Is it this girl? The Doris fan?’
Dominic looked up. ‘Maybe.’
Pete smiled. ‘She forgave you, then? Even after you fessed up to being the neighbour from hell?’
Dominic shifted uncomfortably. ‘Ah. About that …’
Pete stared at him. ‘You haven’t told her yet, have you?’
Dominic shook his head. ‘Not exactly.’
Pete stood up and called to his wife in the kitchen. ‘Did you know that this plonker hasn’t told that girl – Claire – who he is yet?’
Ellen appeared in the doorway a few moments later holding a wooden spoon. She gave Dominic the kind of look he’d seen her give Sammy when he’d done something sensible, like trying to flush his blankie down the toilet. ‘I always used to think you weren’t as much as an idiot as him,’ she said, nodding towards her husband, ‘but now I’m not so sure.’
‘It’s complicated,’ he muttered. ‘I am going to tell her. Soon.’
He’d made the decision days ago.
He looked from Pete to Ellen. Neither looked convinced.
‘What’s stopping you?’ she asked.
Dominic shook his head gently. ‘Nothing, really …’
Only the memory of how Erica had looked at him when she’d handed back his engagement ring, when she’d told him he was the last kind of man she needed. He really didn’t want to see that same expression on Claire’s face.
Pete picked up Dominic’s phone, which he’d left on the dining table in the back half of the room and held it out. ‘Come, on. Do it. Rip the plaster off.’
Dominic took the phone, but shook his head. ‘I can’t do it over the phone.’
‘Then don’t,’ Ellen said, sounding firm but looking sympathetic. ‘Arrange to meet her.’
He nodded. He knew it was the right thing to do. And if Claire didn’t want to see him again, he could hardly blame her. It was just he was having so much fun emailing her, texting her, calling her … He couldn’t remember when he’d last been so into someone, when the stupid little beep his phone made when a message arrived had made him grin quite so widely.
They were right, though. He woke his phone up and wandered into the hall, stood inside the loop of Sammy’s branch line, while Sammy pushed a train around his feet then back into the lounge, and composed a text that read:
You know you offered to listen if I ever wanted to talk? Would you be able to meet me later? You can say where. There’s good news and bad news – something I need to tell you about my girlfriend. N. x
Although he’d said all he needed to say at the moment, he kept composing the rest of the message – what he’d really wanted to say – inside his head.
Like the fact she doesn’t exist.
Like the fact I’d like her to be you.
And then he stared at the back of Pete and Ellen’s front door, sat, phone in hand, cold swirling around in his stomach, and waited for it to buzz its reply.
A minute later, it arrived: Okay. I’m on my way to The Glass Bottom Boat for something else, but I could meet you outside in an hour.
Dominic stared at it and then he walked back into the living room in a semi-daze. Both Pete and Ellen wore expectant expressions. ‘Sorry, Ellie,’ he said. ‘Looks like I’m going to miss out on your spag bol once again.’
Ellen just walked across to him and kissed him on the cheek, then she shoved him out the door.
‘Hey! It won’t take me that long to walk to the pub!’
‘I know,’ Ellen said, starting to close it, ‘but it will to take a shower and change those ratty cargo trousers for something presentable, find a T-shirt that doesn’t have a big hole in it.’
Dominic looked down rather offended. Yes, this T-shirt was a little well loved but it was his favourite. Anyway, the hole wasn’t that big. More like a tiny catch. You could hardly notice it. He opened his mouth to argue, but Ellen gave him one of her looks and gently closed the door in his face.
Chapter Thirty-One
The Party’s Over
Claire parked quite a way down the road. It was always busy here on a Saturday night and because of the party at The Glass Bottom Boat, there seemed to be fewer spaces than ever.
‘Oh, man,’ Abby said, as she stared out of the passenger window and looked at the pub in the distance. There were a whole lot of people milling around between here and there. She’d seemed quite confident all the way here, but now her face was looking a little pale under Kitty’s foundation. ‘I wish Ricky had said yes so I wouldn’t have to go in there on my
own.’
Claire thought for a moment. She still had twenty minutes before she’d arranged to meet Nick. ‘Do you want us to walk up with you? Safety in numbers and all that?’
‘Would you?’
‘‘Course we would,’ said Kitty and she winked at Abby. ‘Secretly, I’m hoping to crash so I can see your mum’s reaction to your dress.’
‘We’re not going to crash,’ Claire said firmly, and instantly saw the disappointment on both Abby and Kitty’s faces. ‘But we could stand at the door for a few minutes, if you want us to?’
Abby nodded, her expression grateful.
‘Okay, let’s go then.’
When they got to the pub, Abby stopped walking. ‘Crap,’ she said, staring at the double doors that had been propped open with fire extinguishers. ‘It’s packed.’
‘You’ll be fine,’ Claire told her, feeling a little wobble in her own stomach on Abby’s behalf. This lot were rather rowdy.
Abby clutched her middle, where a wide white belt cinched in her waist. ‘I think I’m going to puke.’
‘Not in that dress, you don’t’ said Kitty quickly and rather sternly.
Abby looked up at her and nodded. ‘Right.’
They pushed past the people crowding around the entrance so they were standing just inside. Claire couldn’t really see much above the crush, but hoped that Abby could. ‘Can you spot your mum?’ she yelled above the noise.
Abby squinted and looked round the room. ‘No,’ Abby yelled back, looking from left to right, but then there was a loud cackle from somewhere near the bar and Abby’s head snapped round. ‘There she is!’
Kitty pushed herself up onto tiptoes and Claire tried to move so she could see round someone’s head.