‘Keep the range going.’ He looked at me as if I was mad. ‘I can always call Perry.’
‘No you don’t. I’ll do it. She’s such a slave-driver, isn’t she, Sarah. She’s got me running around at her beck and call. It’s exhausting.’
‘Hardly! What do you do that’s so exhausting? Play the piano?’
‘Well, I can’t say in front of Sarah, can I? It’s exhausting being that good.’ He winked and skipped over to squeeze me. ‘Those lessons from the drunken gynaecologist have been worth their weight in gold.’
‘Frankie!’ I hit him hard on the arm and pushed him away. Sarah glowed bright red and didn’t know where to look.
‘You weren’t pushing away from me last night. Okay, I’m going.’ He left, grabbing a piece of toast and humming the 1812 Overture as he banged his other arm in rhythm against his leg.
I took my tea to the table and sat. ‘Sorry about that.’
‘It’s okay. I’d better go. Leave you to it. Oh – I don’t mean …’
She looked so sad that I reached for her hand. Huge sobs quaked her body. She collapsed into herself, clutching at the air before covering her face.
‘What on earth? I’m sorry about Frankie. Just ignore him. He can be insensitive sometimes. Well, actually, all the time. But that’s just him. He’s not unkind, just … selfish, I suppose. But not in a bad way. He always lets me win arguments and … What on earth is it?’
‘Alice.’
‘Alice? What did she do?’
‘Nothing.’
‘Nothing? I don’t understand.’ I knelt and hugged her.
‘It’s just that she … she kissed me,’ Sarah whispered in my ear, her breath so quiet that I was sure I’d misheard.
‘She kissed you?’ I flinched and drew back. ‘Last night?’
‘Yes, she ...’
‘Gosh, I didn’t realise you were that drunk. We must get you both boyfriends! Bet that was awkward, sharing a bed.’ Sarah put her hands over her mouth. ‘I mean, she knows you aren’t … um, like that … doesn’t she? D’you want to phone her when she gets home and sort it out?’
‘No!’
‘Oh, okay. Well, I’m sure it’s nothing.’ Alice had been a godsend since I’d been dating Frankie. Keeping Sarah busy and going out with her.
‘I think I imagined it. I don’t know what happened. I don’t know why I did it. I don’t know what I was doing. Oh, God.’
She clutched me and sobbed into my shoulder, her hot tears wet against my neck. I breathed in the smell of her; summer roses plump with the smell of Turkish delight. ‘You’ll still be my friend, won’t you? Please say you will, Carol. I … I don’t know what I’d do if I lost you.’
‘I’ll always be your friend, Sarah. We’ve been friends forever.’ She choked back some final snotty breaths. I handed her a tea towel.
‘Thanks.’
‘Is there something else? You seem a bit confused. She did kiss you, not the other way …?’
‘No! It’s a mistake. I’m being … stupid. It’s so embarrassing being that drunk.’
‘Well, I’m sure Alice feels the same.’
‘It’s just that I thought she …’
‘She what?’
‘Liked me.’
I took the tea towel and threw it through the doorway into the utility sink. ‘Of course she likes you. Who doesn’t? You’re sweet. And just the best friend. We do stupid things when we’re drunk. I’ve done a few, that’s for sure.’
‘Yes, you’re right.’
‘Shall I drive you home?’
‘What’s upsetting my two girls?’ Frankie dumped the logs in the basket, picked up my tea and downed it.
‘Sarah’s had a … disagreement with Alice.’
‘Oh. Well, I disagree with Alice as well, Sarah. So you’re not alone. She needs to pretty herself up a bit. At least try to be attractive. Does she ever smile? Does she have legs? Will we ever know?’
‘What do you care how Alice looks?” I said. “Anyway. Can you run Sarah home while I clear up?’
‘There she goes again. D’you see? I’m run ragged with her demands. Come on, let’s get out of her beautiful hair. And can I have some food when I get back? A proper meal?’ He kissed me hard. ‘Try not to miss me. Won’t be long, sweetheart.’
Then he was gone. Sarah followed meekly behind, the pair of them an odd mixing of water and oil. They were never going gel and never going to complement each other. And I knew then that I wouldn’t keep both of them.
Chapter 18
Sunday, 19 July 1970
A large white horse disappeared before turning and rushing back to hit me. I lay against the pillow panting as the nightmare faded. The cool air in our room didn’t stop me from sweating. Bile rose. The luminous hands on the clock read six thirty. This early waking and needing a wee was worrying. And all those weird nightmares. It’s as if something had taken over while I slept and changed my brainwaves. I prayed for a period as I made my way to the bathroom. It was weeks since the last one. Waves of nausea flowed as I sat on the toilet. The girls at school said the pill made them feel sick and made their breasts bigger. My breasts were tender. Probably because my bras were too small.
Frankie’s friends were arriving on Saturday, and I couldn’t wait to meet them now that we were a couple. Frankie stirred as I got back into bed and rested my head on his back. Mum didn’t like me staying here because it was too isolated. A new bus service had started in April with a terminus not far from our house. The bus stopped on the main road by the Cleeve Inn so mum could be here quite quickly. It was handy for me even though I preferred to walk and the early bus meant I could slip home before mum returned home to get ready for work. She stayed at Peter’s all the time now but kept up the pretence that she lived at home. She didn’t want her workmates to know the full extent of their relationship. I didn’t have the heart to tell her that everyone knew. Hopefully, she wouldn’t have time to visit as she was packing for her holiday in Spain with Peter. Giving up on sleep, I went to phone Sarah.
‘Hi, Sarah.’
‘Oh, hello.’
‘What’s wrong? You’re still gonna be Mum’s bridesmaid, aren’t you? Please say you will. I don’t want Rosemary Major to be one, so you have to do it. Or I’m not doing it either, and Mum will have to go without.’
‘Can’t Sammy’s wife do it?’
‘No. Valerie had a miscarriage and isn’t well. I’m not flouncing about like a fairy on my own. We’ve bought bridesmaid dresses now.’
‘Your mum told my mum I let you down by not staying with you last night. She’s annoyed that I let you stay at Oaktree on your own without telling her. Now I have to do all the housework.’
‘Sorry.’ I heard her draw an exasperated breath. ‘Please, Sarah. Mum knows Thora’s on another cruise. Don’t forget: if she asks you, Frankie’s still in London as his mum’s ill.’
‘When are you coming home?’
‘I’d better come back just until Mum leaves on Saturday.’
‘Are you staying with Frankie for the whole fortnight she’s away?’
‘Yes. You can go to my house every night so your parents will think I’m there. Then Mum won’t know.’
‘But you’re not. You’re with stupid Frankie. He’s making you a liar.’
‘No he’s not!’
‘He is. Why don’t we do things like we used to?’
‘Look, I’ll come back tonight, so come around.’
‘I’m babysitting Chrissie. You can come with me. Matthew won’t mind. He’s got a new girlfriend.’
As I said goodbye, I thought about Matthew’s new girlfriend: was she pretty and would he fall in love with her? I didn’t know why I was bothered, but thoughts of him played on my mind as I prepared to go home.
Chapter 19
Sunday, 16 August 1970
Mum was finally coming to accept that Frankie and I were together. I wasn’t sure what he’d said to her, but it had worked. That we were ‘living in s
in’ she strove to keep quiet. I wasn’t to tell people.
Frankie’s friends had been staying with us for four weeks. Ben, Augustus and three girls, Grace, Vicky and Celia. They made three couples without me, and if I hadn’t been with Frankie I’m certain he would have been with one of the girls. I thought Ben was with Grace, but the day before Grace was in Augustus’s room, and Vicky was with Ben. Celia had slept with both of the men; she’d told me neither was that good ‘at it’, then laughed at my embarrassment.
Another of their friends, Mario, had moved to Bristol and was staying in a flat above the restaurant owned by his father. The restaurant where mum’s disastrous fiftieth birthday took place. Mario came every day for a few hours because they were forming a rock band. Celia no longer slunk after him since he’d made it clear that his ideal woman was dark-haired and well rounded.
They lazed around discussing the band and who wrote the best lyrics. There had been several drunken and drug-fuelled arguments about whether to emulate Cream or The Beatles. The dining table was against the wall to accommodate Augustus’s drum kit. Frankie behaved like a temperamental teenager as they tried to outdo each other’s outlandish playing. Mario avoided them and sat quietly playing his acoustic guitar to such a high standard that Frankie became jealous when I complimented him. His rage was as refreshing as our making up afterwards.
Playing hostess, making cakes, sandwiches and salads, was my role. Sarah refused to help because Ben put his hands on her breasts and forced his tongue in her mouth.
Dealing with them was tiresome. When not ‘jamming’, as they called it, they lounged around the garden smoking dope, drinking alcohol and talking about Joplin, Hendrix and Lennon as though they knew them intimately. Intrigued initially, I’d wanted to be ‘cool’ and fit in and be part of the crowd, but soon became bored by their repetitive droning on and the continual ‘Yeah, man’s. Three of them had gone to Woodstock and repeatedly mentioning it made me want to throw them out. It seemed that all you did at music festivals was get drunk and stoned.
None of them knew what day it was. They had no hope of writing meaningful songs because they hadn’t a clue about life outside their tiny minds. We all needed a good trek through the countryside, but my suggestion met with incredulous stares and remarks meant to belittle the poor girl from the housing estate who couldn’t afford anything except free walks. Arrogance on this scale was something I’d not encountered before. My brothers had not prepared me for retaliating against people who thought they were something special, who lived ‘better’ lives. Sarah and I knew who we were, though, and that surety was comforting. Sarah found them hysterical and mimicked Vicky saying ‘Dah’ling’ until we collapsed in laughter.
These friends of Frankie’s seemed lost and bewildered; they needed drugs to enable them to relax. The need for drugs was a mystery to me. Frankie had given up suggesting I partake. There was a limit to what I would do for him, which surprised me. At least that confirmed that he didn’t control me utterly, that there was still a little place reserved for me. Sarah was frightened of drugs and threatened to tell Mum. Her solidarity comforted me when I wavered under pressure from the five of them. Mario would not dream of forcing his views on anyone and was so sweet. He would have been a good match for Sarah if only she’d had taken my hint and dyed her red hair a tawny brown.
Thora phoned now and then and was suspicious each time I answered. She complained that I was there too much and said to let Frankie deal with taking care of the place. I wasn’t to do the housework. She asked if I’d been to the doctor to get contraception, but I stonewalled her. I wasn’t going to tell her that I’d managed to get the pill the week after my sixteenth birthday.
Although I was the lady of the house, I was also the servant. The place was a mess, and keeping it clean was a never-ending task. When alone with Frankie all he wanted was sex. I gave in because Celia took every opportunity to cosy up to him and share her smokes. Her behaviour highlighted that she was after him. She started arguments between us and I hated her. She walked into our bedroom one morning and asked for a towel. She was naked. Frankie couldn’t take his eyes off her and jumped up so quickly to fetch one that I banged my head. My mind was in a frenzy as I flailed around trying to hang on to some sense of normality. The world was running full speed away from me.
The pill was making me ill, too. Nausea and headaches all the time. My breasts were tender, and I needed to buy new bras but couldn’t leave Celia alone with Frankie.
Then, just when I could no longer stand them, something happened. Everyone was in the garden. From my deckchair I noticed that the roses needed deadheading and the borders needed weeding – Frankie had banned Perry until his friends had gone. Why Frankie hated Perry so much was baffling. Perry had always done the gardening for pocket money. He was going to be a horticulturist, and Thora was helping with the cost of his education. I refused to do the garden as well as everything else, so I decided to ring and ask him to come early the next morning, as none of the others got out of bed until midday.
‘I love your earrings, dah’ling.’ Vicky propped herself up on her elbow to lean closer to me. Her breath stank of gin. ‘Moon, sun and stars, very pretty.’
I pushed myself up and slipped my feet into my sandals.
‘Let me see.’ Celia walked towards me, knocking her glass over as she rose. She fingered an earring as I shrank from her, trying not to inhale her perfume. ‘I used to, I …’ she stuttered.
She let it go, and a snarl of distaste crossed her lips as she walked away.
‘Carol,’ Frankie called me from the kitchen doorway; his eyes flicked between us as he walked towards me. He stared at my stomach and said, ‘You can see through your dress.’
‘Can you?’ I looked down, blushing; it was too hot to wear an underskirt.
‘Yes, you can. Your breasts are massive.’
‘What! Frankie, please!’
He looked at them as though he hadn’t seen them a few hours ago. Ben collapsed with laughter and fell off his deckchair. The other four looked up to see what was going on.
‘What’s this? I didn’t catch …’ Celia padded to Frankie, laughter sprinkling her pretty face. She pulled her shoulders back, thrusting her braless nipples forward.
Ben sat up and snorted. ‘Frankie just told Carol her breasts are massive!’
Celia looked at Frankie and said, ‘Frankie! All pregnant women have big breasts.’
Stunned, I retorted, ‘I’m not pregnant, Celia. I’m only sixteen.’
‘You may only be sixteen, darling, but I know a pregnant girl when I see one. And I’ve seen many pregnant girls. My father’s a gynaecologist.’
Frankie turned and walked back to the house.
‘Frankie.’ I shouted after him.
Celia laughed and shouted, ‘Oh dear, you’ve done it now. He doesn’t look happy.’
It had to be a mistake. I couldn’t be pregnant because I was taking the pill. Frankie was sitting in the front room with his head in his hands. It was refreshingly cool in here, on the northern side of the house.
‘Frankie. I’m not pregnant. Celia’s wrong. I don’t care what she says.’
I sat next to him and took his hand. ‘You know I’ve been taking the pill … The reason my breasts are … and the sickness … that’s side-effects.’
I kissed his forehead. ‘You know I can’t be pregnant. You can’t get pregnant your first time anyway. You told me that.’
He relaxed as I squeezed his hand and smiled at him. He smiled back. ‘You’re right, sweetheart,’ he pulled me onto his lap and kissed me. ‘It’s time my friends left us alone. We haven’t been alone for ages, have we? Time to get back to normal.’
He went to the garden and shouted, ‘Okay everyone, the party’s over. Time for you lot to go home. First thing tomorrow … so go and pack.’
There was a chorus of complaints. Finally!
Their last supper was a joy to prepare.
Chapter 20
Monday, 17 August 1970
Frankie was not in bed. He’d got up earlier, letting light through the curtains as he peered out. He had to be in the bathroom. His friends were leaving. Happiness filled me as I stretched in the warmth of our bed. Soon we would be alone. As I moved, bile rose to my throat. Grabbing his shirt, I ran to the bathroom. As I vomited, I prayed that no one else was sick. What had we eaten?
His shirt was tight across the mound of my stomach. I’d eaten too much since they’d been here. Waiting for my nausea to calm, I contemplated driving into town to buy bigger clothes. I had some money and Frankie could lend me some, too. Or maybe if I let him choose the underwear, he’d pay.
A bedroom door opened then a female laughed, and then a male said, ‘Shush,’ and the sound of bare feet scuffled on the landing. Easing the door ajar, I saw Frankie and Celia with their arms around each other. Her blonde curls shimmered and waved softly down her back onto her expensive blue silk negligee. He pulled his hand through them, resting it on the back of her neck as he pulled her lips to him.
‘What about Lisa?’ she asked.
‘She’s fine. She knows I need time alone.’
‘She’s going to be mad when she finds out. And your mother. You are naughty, Frankie.’
‘Yes, but I’m good at being naughty.’ He kissed her and ran his hands down her back to cup her buttocks. ‘Those lessons your drunken father –’
She smacked his chest, ‘Frankie, behave. I doubt my mother had any benefit from his knowledge.’
‘Ugh, please don’t.’ He kissed her forehead. ‘Now shush, sweetheart. We’d better go.’
‘Just as well you’re so good. Not sure I’ve forgiven you for the earrings. You let me think I’d lost them, you cruel man. They don’t suit her. Make her look like a demented pixie.’
‘Don’t call her that. She’s grown up in these last months.’
‘She certainly has. You know she’s like Lisa, preg –’
He put his finger on her lips, and she gazed at him. It was clear that they’d been making love; she had seduced him. Her expression was so intimate that I glanced away in embarrassment. How could they stand there like that? Their hands move across each other’s bodies, and I could see her nipple stiffen under his touch as he slid her gown away. Closing the door softly, I crumpled to the floor. He was going to leave me; he didn’t love me anymore. I’d lost him and this house.
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