Perfect Mishap

by Aimee Horton

  Wow. How had I not seen her “friend” him?

  “He looks familiar. Have I met him?” I squint at the picture, stabbing at the screen with a slightly fat, alcohol-fuelled finger, until it finally opens. I look a bit closer but am none the wiser.

  “Have you?” I begin, waggling my eyebrows and doing a hand movement I haven’t done since I was a teenager.

  “No!” Jane blushes bright red.

  She’s not as innocent as she’s pretending.

  “You have! You’ve done it!” I snigger like an adolescent, slopping wine onto my jeans.

  “No, no, no, no, no! Not yet. We’ve done… we’ve done STUFF… but well, I want it to be right.” She gets a dreamy look in her eyes.

  “Is he…?” I stretch my arms wide, and then nod my head down towards my lap. Jane snorts, then opens her arms wider than mine and nods. Together we cackle, rolling about on the sofa.

  “I need to pee,” she says, and heaves herself up off the sofa. “I’ll check the kids while I’m up.” Unsteadily, she weaves her way into the hall, and I hear her climbing the stairs.

  We never get drunk like this.

  I pick up the iPad to look at her new boyfriend again. Flicking through the pictures on his profile, I stop for a second on one from about three years ago, zooming in on a woman with her arms around him.

  I know her…

  “Talking about nakedness…” Jane’s voice makes me jump, and I put the iPad back on the floor. She sways into the room, her jeans slightly twisted around her knees. “When the hell are you going to get rid of that woman in the bathroom? It freaks me out every time I go for a wee.”

  “Oh God, as soon as possible! I’ve found THE ONE, but Henry is being a complete tightwad about it. You know what he’s like.” I mimic Henry’s spoilsport voice. “It’s just toooo much money!”

  We used to laugh about Henry’s spoilsport voice with Adam. I wonder if we can with this new bloke.

  I pick up the iPad, find the bathroom I want and show it to Jane.

  “This is nice, and look, they do a buy now pay later deal!” She hiccups. “You should just get it.”

  Henry would kill me.

  “Ha, no way on earth can I buy a bathroom without Henry approving it. Especially as I’m not even sure what’s going to happen with work.”

  There, I’ve said it.

  “What about the business?” Jane slams her wine glass onto the coffee table. “You can’t give it up! Why would you?”

  “Because of the kids,” I say, trying to hide a burp. “I’ve been thinking about it for ages, but then Penny… you know that neighbour I’d told you about?”

  “Your new best friend?” Jane says, pretending to pout.

  “Noooo, you’ll always be my best friend… but anyway, this Penny, she worked in sales and marketing for GEAR. You know, the retail place? She’s not sure about going back to work, and today I was wondering if perhaps we could work something out. Wouldn’t it be great if I could design and she could do all the talking-to-people stuff?”

  “Sounds like a plan to me! Anything to stop you talking to people can only be a good thing,” Jane responds, and before I can hit her with a cushion, she says, “Hey, were you going to get the wall tiles too?”

  ~~~~

  Oh God.

  Oh God, oh God, oh God.

  What’s happened? Why can’t I open my eyes?

  Groaning, I lift my hand up and pry one of my eyes open enough to see a glass of water and two white tablets next to me on the night table.

  Am I ill?

  I burp, and the taste of wine regurgitates up into my throat. The smell mists my face.

  Oh God. Last night Jane and I got really, really drunk.

  I roll over. It hurts. Jane is next to me, snoring and sprawled out in a pair of pants and one of my vest tops.

  Where’s Henry?

  I roll out of bed and lie on the floor next to it in a ball. My head is throbbing with the amount of wine I’d consumed the night before.

  Three bottles? Four?

  I look at my watch and focus on the time: five forty-six a.m.

  Oh God.

  I sloooowly stand up, then stumble to the toilet. Head in hands, I sit there, breathing deeply, until Henry’s voice makes me jump.

  “Ah ha, all right, drunkie?” He’s smiling, and I feel a rush of relief.

  “What happened?” I ask, easing myself up off the toilet and splashing my face with cold water.

  “I got home about eleven, and you and Jane were lying on the sofa cackling like a pair of old witches. She wasn’t fit to go home, so I threw you both into our bed, took a photo, had a brief fantasy moment and then slept with George in his room.” He comes over and rubs my shoulders. I wince as he touches me, a new wave of pain running through my body.

  I’m a terrible mother.

  “I feel so irresponsible,” I croak. I start to cry, more out of sheer pain than anything else.

  “Oh don’t start hangover crying, Dots. You don’t do this very often. Even when you’re tipsy, you’re always the one who gets up for the kids. That’s why you look so rough some days.” Henry realises what he’s said and tries to backtrack. “I mean, not that you look rough to me, but you say…”

  “Were the kids OK?”

  What if George had woken up?

  “They were fine, all fast asleep.” Henry strokes my hair. “Look, go back to bed. I’ve got a meeting across town so wasn’t intending to go into the office. I’ll do the school run.”

  “I’m such a crap mother, I can’t do anything right, and the neighbours still don’t really like me…”

  “Ahh, I’ve missed this. I don’t think you’ve had hangover-tears like this since Arthur started school and didn’t want you to take him right to the classroom door.” He holds me away from him and brushes my hair out of my face. “Go on, go to bed with Jane. But if any action happens, make sure you FaceTime me!” He waggles his eyebrows, and I roll my eyes, feeling the pain shoot through my head.

  I crawl into bed, and Henry feeds me the aspirin from the night table and tucks me in. “Snuggle up then.” He laughs and heads back to the bathroom, presumably to shower. I close my eyes, trying to sleep, but memories of the night before flash through my head.

  Jane has a new bloke.

  Jane’s new bloke has an ex that I know… Who was it?

  I must have finally fallen asleep, because I wake up with a start as an arm lands on my face with a slap.

  “Ahhh! What the…” I shout, nearly falling out of bed. A pain shoots through my head, and nausea takes hold.

  “WHAT? WHAT? HANNAH WHAT?!” shouts a voice next to me. I turn to find Jane staring at me with a confused look on her face.

  Oh God. It wasn’t a dream. We really are both hung over.

  We grimace, and then Jane starts to giggle. She laughs so hard that she bends over, hugging her knees, her body shaking.

  “Oh God, you were soooo drunk.” She laughs. Wincing, she reaches over and takes the tablets Henry had left for her too.

  “Me?” I exclaim, my head throbbing. “You were the one telling me your new boyfriend’s ah-ham was mahoosive.” We both snigger, then throw ourselves back on our pillows.

  “Poor Henry, coming home to that,” Jane says, still chuckling, “What state were we in?”

  “Cackling on the sofa, so he says.”

  Jane snuggles down under the duvet and faces me. “It was fun though. I miss us.”

  I’m quiet, because I do too.

  We wallowed for an hour, and now the house is quiet.

  Henry has gone to work, poor Jane has gone home to get ready for her shift, and George is asleep in his cot. I’m lying on the sofa building up the energy to go and collect Mabel from nursery. The phone rings in the other room.

  I’m going to miss it, I can’t get up fast enough.

  Just then, the doorbell rings.

  Now I really have to get up.

  I open the door, and the sun blinds me for
a second. When I manage to focus again, I see the postman brandishing a handful of letters and a few small parcels.

  Finally, those shoes have come for the kids.

  I take them and smile my thanks, turning to go back inside. It must be time for another painkiller.

  What’s that?

  I stop as something catches my eye. Squinting in the sun—why is it always bloody sunny with a hangover—I spot somebody hiding behind the wheelie bin on Tina’s drive.

  Joe.

  I feel sick, and quickly, in an elaborate ploy not to have him notice that I’ve noticed him, I walk down the drive towards my car. When I’m there, I lick my thumb and rub an imaginary scratch off the bonnet, before nodding in fake satisfaction. Turning back to the house, I shut the door behind me. I lean against it and close my eyes. I’m hoping to ease my aching head and the sick feeling in my stomach, but it’s not working. The image of Tina and Joe together makes me feel horrendous.

  My phone beeps, and the arrival of a text message interrupts my thoughts. Slowly I go in search of it, finding it on the sofa in the lounge.

  “Still on for toddler and baby at the village hall this afternoon? P x”

  Urgh. I hate that shit at the best of times; I barely like my own children out in public let alone other people’s.

  But I don’t want to let Penny down.

  “Be gentle, too much wine last night! X” I reply, then toss the phone on the sofa and stumble into the kitchen to make coffee and take another aspirin.

  I’ll take Mabel to McDonald’s for lunch. That will make me feel better.

  The house phone rings again, but before I can pick it up, I hear a wail from upstairs. I let it go to the machine again while I head up to rescue my head and mute the crying baby.

  ~~~~

  “MUMMY! Did you drink too much wine again last night?” Mabel squawks at me as soon as her nursery door opens.

  Little sod.

  I pull myself up tall, feeling slightly better after eating four slices of toast. I’ve also drunk three cups of coffee and nearly an entire carton of orange juice, and spent twenty intense minutes on the toilet.

  Sometimes drinking too much isn’t so bad; at least it helps me lose a few pounds.

  “What?! No! Mummy just… ate something that didn’t agree with her,” I squeak, dying a little inside as the teachers try—and fail—to not laugh.

  “Daddy said you’d had too much wine and that’s why you and Auntie Jane were in bed when we got up,” Mabel continues.

  “No, Daddy said my tuna had too much BRINE in it,” I say unconvincingly. “You know, from the tuna on my… er… pizza.”

  Bloody kids.

  “Let’s go, we’re going to McDonald’s for a treat.” I bustle her away from the nursery as quickly as I can.

  “Fat Donald’s—that means Mummy’s had too much wine,” Mabel exclaims, and I hear a snort of laughter as the door of the nursery closes behind us.

  Climbing into the car—the toast totally absorbed all the alcohol by now—I drive slowly to McDonald’s and order a Happy Meal for her and a Big Mac Meal for me. We sit, and she talks about nursery and how much fun it was that Daddy took her to school for once. He’s much more fun than me.

  Bully for Daddy Daycare. Maybe we should swap and I go back to work full-time.

  My mind drifts to the conversation I’d had with Jane about work. But before I can even think about whether it would be possible, Mabel interrupts me.

  “You’ve eaten all my chips, Mummy!”

  Whoops.

  We stop home so I can freshen up and then it’s on to Penny’s. Beaming, she flings open the door and hands me a travel mug of coffee. I know at this point we are going to be friends for life.

  I need to introduce her to Jane.

  We walk towards the town hall with Mabel skipping beside us like a dream child. I tell Penny about Jane, and how we ended up drinking last night. I’d been worried about her judging me, but I shouldn’t have bothered. She just laughs when I tell her about Henry finding us on the sofa.

  “Jane sounds fab, and it’s good she has a new bloke. How do you feel about that?” We’re approaching the door, and a queue of women with various prams and buggies is already forming.

  “I’ll tell you another time,” I say, smiling at a few faces I recognise. “It’s a small village.” She nods, understanding. Just then, the doors open, and the crowd surges forward, jostling each other to get a seat and a hot cup of tea. We lag behind, leaving our prams haphazardly amongst the others, before we finally follow.

  It’s all very loud.

  Mabel spots a friend from nursery and skips off. I wave to the mother across the room before Penny and I find somewhere to sit and watch, bouncing our babies on our knees.

  “She seems very content,” I say, looking at cute Ruby drifting between sleep and alertness, and Penny beams with pride.

  “So, how long have you known Tina and Izzy?” I say, hating the sick feeling in my stomach that appears every time I think of cheating Tina.

  “Oh, not long!” I swear she’s avoiding eye contact.

  “Oh? Seems like you had been having the coffee mornings for a while?” I’m wondering if she isn’t really that keen.

  “No, only about six months, after she found out I was pregnant. She didn’t give me the time of day before then,” she says, finally looking at me properly. “I can’t say I was bothered, though. It was always her and Izzy until then. I only went along after I went on maternity leave, and she kept asking. I was a bit lonely to be honest.”

  “Oh right.” I’m not sure how to respond to that.

  “She’s hard work, isn’t she?” Penny finally says, and I’m surprised. I thought she’d be more tactful, but she can probably tell I feel the same.

  “Seems to be. She wasn’t that nice to me until she bumped into me when George was melting down.” I think about what I heard her say about me over the monitor and try not to frown.

  “Yeah, I mean, she’s going through a divorce right now, so I guess things are a little tough. Plus she would quite like another baby but obviously given the circumstances… I heard he has another woman now. Not sure what’s happened, just that they split about two years ago. And then a few months ago, he asked for a divorce because he’s in love with someone else.” Penny strokes Ruby’s cheek as she begins to stir, snuffling for food. Looking around nervously, she finally obliges, and while she gets Ruby settled, I check where Mabel is. By the dolls’ house, dressed as Spider-Man of course.

  “How did you find all that out?” I ask, watching as a child takes a toy off Mabel. I hold my breath, waiting for the meltdown, but instead, she just goes over to the table where the biscuits are laid out and helps herself to five chocolate ones.

  That’s my girl.

  “Oh, Tina got drunk on Izzy’s birthday not so long ago. Izzy was telling us she was worried Joe might be seeing somebody else, and Tina just broke down and told us about the divorce. It should be finalised soon apparently.”

  I wonder if that’s when she started sleeping with Joe?

  Stop thinking about it.

  “I don’t think anyone else remembers,” Penny continues. “I haven’t told anyone, but of course I was pregnant and stone cold sober.”

  I need to change the subject.

  “Mmmhmmm,” I say, and then pick up George and sniff his bottom. “He’s pooed!” I exclaim, wrinkling my nose in disgust.

  He hasn’t.

  “I better change him before he makes everyone ill!” I wander over to Mabel to tell her where I’ll be, and she insists on coming with me. So that she doesn’t rat me out, I hand her another biscuit. By the time we’re back, Penny is chatting to another mum, and so I sit silently watching the kids running about.

  I wonder if Tina remembers telling everyone? I wonder if it was a distraction from the Joe subject?

  “I was wondering, would you consider perhaps working together on something?” She looks awkward, but I like the fact she’
s been thinking along the same lines.

  “Oh gosh, I had been thinking the same thing! I mean, I’m not sure if I’m even intending to go back in a few months… if at all… and you’d be a month or so behind me… but…” I trail off, because although I’d been thinking about it a lot, going into business with somebody I’ve only just met seems huge.

  I need Jane to check her out.

  “Why don’t we both come up with some ideas about how it could work?” I suggest, not wanting her to feel disappointed. Penny nods happily.

  “Yes, that sounds like a plan! I was thinking about how we could split it so that obviously it’s your business, but I get to be more than an employee. Plus how we could work together but still have time off with the kids.” Penny’s obviously given it a lot of thought.

  “Actually, I was thinking of something a bit different…” I begin, stopping to watch in slow motion as Mabel trips over a pull-along telephone and falls over, bashing her knee on another toy. Her face crumples, and the wail is so loud that all the parents and children stop what they’re doing. They turn to stare first at her, then at the parent who hasn’t yet jumped to her aid.

  I’m not sure I want that much time off with the kids.

  “I think perhaps it’s time to go?”

  Penny nods. All eyes on us, we pack our things, and with a now-silent Mabel holding more biscuits in each hand, we head outside and breathe in the fresh air.

  13.

  I never realised making friends as a grown-up would be this tricky.

  It’s been two days since toddler group, and Penny and I have met up both days to talk business ideas. Right now, I’m running late after an in-depth discussion about “Ruby and George” (the business name we’ve come up with). I left Mabel and George with Penny—after asking her twenty times if she was sure it was OK—and raced to school to pick Arthur up.

  “When’s the new bathroom due then?” I hear Tina’s voice before I see her. Reluctantly I stop, wishing I had a child with me to act as a distraction.