Bonnie followed her gaze. ‘Not really,’ she said quietly. ‘What do you mean?’
‘Like his bald patch isn’t quite as bald as it was on Saturday.’
‘What, like a comb-over?’
‘No, not like a comb-over, like…’
‘Oh my God!’ Bonnie squeaked and put a hand to her mouth. ‘You don’t think that’s where he was this morning?’
Linda turned to her and nodded solemnly but her eyes were dancing with laughter. ‘I think he’s treated himself to a new rug!’
***
Despite her working week being a long and very routine one, it had still flown by and Bonnie found herself with a rare Saturday off. Paige was still in bed after staying up late the previous night, mostly online, Bonnie presumed, although what Paige did behind her closed bedroom door was anyone’s guess.
Bonnie sat at the kitchen table, staring into space. She had washed up and cleaned the surfaces, plopped a pile of meat and veg into the slow cooker with a sachet of casserole seasoning for the evening meal, ironed their washing and read every magazine she had from cover to cover and then back again. What did you do on a precious Saturday off when you had no spare money to enjoy it? Linda was working, of course – one of them had to be in the shop helping Fred (who was probably, right now, on his fiftieth grumble of the day, complaining that they were short-staffed and rushed off their feet and he didn’t see why the trade unions had ever got involved in the running of businesses, instigating holidays and sick pay and such nonsense) and her mum was on one of her frequent cigarette runs in Spain. They seemed to be getting very frequent indeed, Bonnie mused, and although she hadn’t really noticed Jeanie’s five-a-day smoking habit worsening, she wondered whether she ought to drop some heavy hints about quitting before her mum smoked herself to instant death. All in all, it looked like it was going to be a boring day and Bonnie was beginning to wonder about phoning her boss to see if she could go into work. At least she’d have someone to talk to there.
One more hot drink and she’d go and get sorted, at least pretend she had something worth getting dressed for on a dreary, lonely, boring Saturday morning.
And into this morass of greyness, her phone bleeped. She rarely got texts from anyone, and the few people it was likely to be were all currently busy. Unless Paige wanted a cup of tea and had decided to text from her bedroom. That would be a new low, even for them, but Bonnie wouldn’t have put it past her. She reached across the table and picked it up to read the message. For a moment, it didn’t register. But then she stared at the screen as she read it again.
Please call us on 07773771771 to hear some exciting news.
It couldn’t be...
It had to be a hoax.
Or a sales call, one of those timeshare cons that made you believe something amazing was coming your way when all they wanted was to get you to buy their poxy product?
Or could it be that, for once in her life, Lady Luck had cut Bonnie some slack?
Bonnie placed the phone on the table and pushed herself up to fill the kettle while the information sank in. As she waited for it to boil, her mind wandered to Paige, and how much she would love to win that competition, how much she deserved it for the terrible time she’d had since Henri had left them one grey morning with no explanation and barely a look back. Paige had spent a long time blaming herself for somehow doing something that had upset her dad to the point that he felt he had to desert them. Once she had finished blaming herself, she blamed Bonnie, and then Jeanie, and then finally seemed to accept that Henri himself was the villain of the piece. But it had taken her a long time to get there. All the while, Bonnie had struggled to keep the relationship between herself and her daughter from falling apart too.
Once she had made herself an instant cappuccino, Bonnie sat back at the table, blowing at the froth and staring at her phone again.
Just ring it you silly cow!
‘Hello? I’m phoning about a text message I just received.’
She listened as she was fed some spiel, relaxing instantly as she realised that her first hunch had been right. The person on the other end of the line was explaining that she could win a state-of-the-art home cinema system if she turned up at a warehouse in Croydon equipped with a hefty deposit on a holiday home.
‘Thanks for that,’ Bonnie said, now feeling foolish for the state she had got herself in only minutes before. ‘But you’re really talking to the wrong woman if you’re after spare cash.’
Without waiting for a reply, she ended the call and put the phone back on the table. She was just taking another sip of her cappuccino when she heard a shout from Paige’s bedroom.
Within seconds, Paige had raced into the kitchen, bouncing and hyperventilating with manic excitement.
‘Annabel just phoned me….We won!’
Three
‘Sooo,’ Paige said for what seemed like the hundredth time that morning as she sat at the table with Bonnie and ate her toast, ‘I’m defo gonna need a new outfit. Can we go shopping today, seeing as you’re off?’
Bonnie frowned as she watched her daughter wolf down some breakfast. In light of the news she had received that morning, Bonnie’s stomach was churning so much that the last thing she wanted was breakfast. It was lucky that Paige was so wrapped up in her excitement that she hadn’t noticed – Bonnie didn’t need awkward questions to push her already delicate emotional state.
‘Paige… light of my life, as I said to you fifteen minutes ago when you last mentioned it, I haven’t got any spare cash today. Maybe in a couple of weeks, around payday.’
Paige’s toast stopped halfway to her mouth. ‘But that’s ages away. Can’t we look today and then buy it when you have the money’?’
‘What’s the point? The thing you choose might be sold out when you go back for it.’
‘You always say that.’
‘Because it never ceases to be true. Besides, there’s a month until you go to the radio station to meet them.’
‘I need to get some idea of what I’m going to wear, at least.’
‘Get a magazine, it’s cheaper.’
‘Yeah, but that’s a waste in the end. They’re, like, five quid and that fiver could be going towards a top.’
‘Five quid! What magazines are you buying?’
‘Clearly better than that crap you read,’ Paige said, angling her head at the pile of crumpled reading material on the table.
‘I happen to like these,’ Bonnie said, ‘they keep me up to date with goings on in the world.’
‘What, like Victoria Beckham’s new haircut? Hardly breaking news, is it?’
‘You read them, I’ve seen you.’
‘Only because there’s nothing else in the flat to read.’
‘What about that pile of books in your room?’
‘Pfht, if I wanted to read books I’d go into school.’
‘The answer is still no, even if you try to talk me round by wrapping me up in an argumentative knot.’
The room went silent for a moment. Bonnie watched Paige carefully. She could almost hear the cogs moving in her daughter’s head and waited for her next gem.
‘Can I get a Saturday job, then?’
‘Why would you do that?’
‘To get some money of my own.’
‘Have you forgotten the weekend job at the hairdresser’s last year?’
‘It wasn’t my fault,’ Paige pouted.
‘You practically gave Mrs Squires a cracked skull.’
‘She kept telling me to rub harder when I was shampooing her. So I did. How was I to know the silly cow didn’t mean that hard?’
‘You banged her head on the sink!’
‘She banged her head on the sink because her neck was too feeble to take my rubbing when she’d told me to rub hard!’
Bonnie tried to bite back a smile as she remembered how annoyed Paige had been, coming home early with a blood stained t-shirt, a small amount of cash and a huge amount of wounded pride. After a long
lecture from the salon owner, which apparently included some colourful swearwords, Paige had been sent packing. That first foray into employment had been her last so far. Secretly, Bonnie liked it that way. Paige was growing up way too fast and Bonnie wasn’t sure she was ready to let go just yet, even though the money would have been handy.
‘Paige,’ she said affectionately, ‘as soon as I have some spare money, we will go out and buy you whatever your heart desires…’ she paused with a half-smile, ‘as long as it’s under twenty quid.’
***
Despite Bonnie’s longer than usual break, Monday came round all too quickly.
‘Good weekend?’ Linda asked as Bonnie flew into work just in time to avoid one of Fred’s lectures, the crisp autumn chill still clinging to her like a second coat.
‘Weird, actually,’ Bonnie replied as she hung her bag on a peg. ‘Paige won a competition to meet Every Which Way. Can you believe that?’
‘Wow, that’s some luck,’ Linda acknowledged. She grinned at Bonnie. ‘Don’t you have a bit of a thing for one of them? Maybe you’re about to get that man of your dreams after all.’
‘One of them is cute,’ Bonnie said, trying to hide the blush that was spreading from her neck. ‘But they’re all about twelve, aren’t they? I’m not even sure it’s legal for me to fancy one of them.’
‘I highly doubt it,’ Linda replied. ‘Probably best you don’t tell anyone. When is this going to happen?’
‘Next month. We rang the radio station and it’s all above board as far as I can tell. Paige is taking Annabel.’
‘They’ll have a whale of a time. Are you chaperoning or Annabel’s mum and dad? They’ll need someone sensible there to make sure they don’t throw themselves at the band and declare their undying love.’
‘I don’t really know…’ It was actually the first time that question had occurred to Bonnie. And if anyone was going to be throwing themselves anywhere declaring undying love, it was more likely to be Bonnie herself than Paige or Annabel. Perhaps, under the circumstances, it was better if Annabel’s parents took the girls to the radio station. Much as she had desperately wanted to meet Holden, faced with the sudden reality of it, she wasn’t sure that she wanted it at all. She was just someone that he’d laugh about afterwards, some sad, desperate old cow that he’d make fun of as soon as she’d left the building. But if she was left to wait outside while the girls went in, that would be torture. She wasn’t sure she’d be able to hide her resentment, no matter how hard she tried. At least if she was out of the way she could keep herself occupied at home.
There was a roar from the shop.
‘BLOODY HELL FIRE!’
Bonnie and Linda looked at each other, half way between shock and laughter.
‘THIEVING LITTLE BASTARDS!’ Fred shouted. ‘BONNIE, GET IN HERE, LASS!’
Bonnie rushed out to the shop floor. ‘What’s up?’
‘What’s up?’ Fred shouted. ‘What’s up? I’ll tell you what’s up! Look down here.’
Bonnie bent to where he was pointing to see a scattering of small black pellets near one of the display cases.
‘MOUSE SHIT!’ Fred boomed.
‘Oh…’ Bonnie stood and stared, wondering quite what Fred was asking her to do about it. Apart from dangling a lump of cheese under the unit, clicking her fingers and calling ‘here, mousey, mousey’ she failed to see what she could do. If they had mice, then it was going to take longer than they had before opening time to sort the problem.
***
Linda started unloading the cold stock with the sound of Fred’s bawling tantrum in her ears and a broad grin on her face. As she worked, she heard the familiar morning knock at the back door. She went to answer it and Max ambled into the tiny stockroom with a huge grin on his face.
‘It’s a gorgeous morning, Linda!’
Linda threw him a sideways look. ‘No it isn’t.’
‘The crappy weather can’t upset me today,’ Max replied lightly.
‘Oh? Is that why you look like the cat that got the cream and then licked it off his girlfriend’s backside?’ Linda said nonchalantly, strolling to the kitchenette. She came back to the doorway, shook the kettle at him with a questioning look and he nodded.
‘That’s because I now have an actual girlfriend with an actual backside to lick it from,’ he said, rubbing the chill from his hands.
‘You’re disgusting,’ Linda laughed.
‘You brought the whole backside-cream scenario up,’ Max retorted.
‘That’s true. In that case, I’m disgusting.’
Max laughed. An extra loud shout came from the shop floor followed by Bonnie’s placating tones.
‘What’s up with Freddie Flintstone?’ Max asked in a low voice.
‘He’s found mouse droppings,’ Linda whispered.
‘It’s a fruit and veg shop, goes with the territory,’ Max replied amiably.
‘Yeah,’ Linda agreed, ‘but, of course, customers don’t see it like that and Fred’s freaking out trying to find out where they’re getting in.’
‘Shouldn’t he just get the council?’
‘Too risky.’
‘They’d close you down?’
‘No, Fred would have a heart attack when they sent him the bill.’
Max chuckled.
‘So,’ Linda said as she flicked on the kettle, ‘getting back to creamy backsides… who is the lucky girl?’
‘She’s called Sarah. We met on Saturday at a mutual friend’s wedding and she gave me her number. Turns out we were at the same college and never even knew.’
‘She’s not your girlfriend yet then.’
‘Oh she is, we went out for a drink yesterday.’
‘Bloody hell,’ Linda remarked, clearly impressed, ‘you’re a fast worker.’
‘Life’s too short to mess around waiting,’ Max said in a significant tone. His glance went, momentarily, to the main shop where Fred could still be heard shouting and Bonnie trying to calm him down.
‘So, superstud, when are you seeing her again?’ Linda asked.
‘Hmmmm?’
‘I said, when are you seeing this Sarah again?’
‘Wednesday.’ He paused for a moment. ‘You don’t think I’m being too keen, do you?’ Max asked, suddenly looking concerned.
Linda laughed. ‘I think it’s men who get spooked by keenness, women generally take it as a flattering thing.’
Max’s worried frown relaxed into a grin. ‘Probably. I really like her, Linda.’
The kettle clicked off and Linda poured hot water over a teabag before stabbing it with a spoon a few times and lifting it from the mug. ‘She must be something pretty special then,’ Linda said, raising her eyebrows as she splashed some milk into the mug and handed it to Max.
He paused for a moment, as though reading her mind. ‘Bonnie is never going to say yes and there’s no point in flogging that poor horse any longer.’
‘She doesn’t know what’s good for her, that’s why.’
Max shrugged. ‘Maybe. Or maybe she just doesn’t like me in that way.’
‘I think she does, that’s the problem. But she’s been hurt, Max, and I think she’s afraid to trust anyone again.’
Max’s expression became pensive as his gaze travelled to the doorway of the shop where Bonnie flitted in and out of view as she raced around searching under shelving units.
‘That might be true. But I can’t keep waiting.’ He turned to Linda. ‘You understand that, don’t you, Linda?’
Linda nodded. ‘Of course I do. It’s a shame, though, because neither of you can see how perfect you’d be together.’
‘I could,’ Max laughed. ‘I’m clearly not Heathcliffe enough though.’
‘I’ll stick the fan on,’ Linda said as she sipped at her tea, ‘and you don the frilly shirt and frock coat and run across the windswept shop shouting to Bonnie to let you in.’
‘That might just work.’ Max’s laughter became louder.
‘What’s s
o funny?’ Bonnie stood at the door of the shop with her arms folded and out of breath.
‘You really don’t want to know,’ Linda said. ‘Kettle’s just boiled if you want one.’
‘I do, I’m parched. Fred’s ranting about mice.’
‘I heard,’ Linda said.
‘And did you find them?’ Max asked.
Bonnie glanced at Linda. ‘Not yet… no thanks to my workmate shirking in the back here.’
Linda grinned. ‘I did the cockroaches last week, you’re on your own for this little drama,’ she called from the kitchenette as she flicked on the kettle to re-boil it.
‘So, how’s the world of Max?’ Bonnie asked, tucking a stray hair behind her ear.
‘I’m good,’ Max said carefully.
‘He has a girlfriend, Sarah…’ Linda cut in as she returned and handed Bonnie a mug.
Bonnie raised her eyebrows. The news that Max was finally dating was not a surprise, but the violent feelings it suddenly stirred in her were. ‘And, where did you meet Sarah,’ she asked, fighting to keep her tone neutral.
‘At a wedding on Saturday night.’ Max seemed as though he was also trying to play down any awkwardness.
Linda looked between the two of them, shook her head, and then went out to the shop with a mug of tea for Fred.
‘She wasn’t one of the bridesmaids, was she?’ Bonnie asked, taking care to make her tone jovial.
‘Actually, she was.’
‘That old cliché, eh?’
‘Yeah. If ever a man was a walking cliché, it’s me.’
‘I didn’t mean that…’ Bonnie’s sentence trailed to nothing. There was a sudden, tension in the air that she couldn’t understand. Damn Max, why did he have to keep asking her out all these months, it was bound to end awkwardly. But Bonnie loved Max’s easygoing manner – his visits in the mornings were one of the few bright spots of her working day and she didn’t want to lose that for the sake of a difficult situation that would doubtless blow over if they didn’t make a big deal of it. She shook away her negative thoughts.
Hopelessly Devoted to Holden Finn Page 4