by Caron Allan
‘Just tell them to get out!’ he snapped. I floundered. I tried to think of excuses. He just growled at me, ‘For crap’s sake, Cressida, strap on a pair for once in your life!’
Needless to say, we haven’t spoken since then.
Doomier and Doomier.
Fri 26 April—12.45pm
With what Matt-the-beast-Hopkins said still practically ringing in my ears, I sought out Mother after breakfast this morning. She was lying on the swooning couch. My favourite spot—how dare she! And watching the television. Yes, she had even turned the couch away from the garden towards the goggle-box, I ask you! She had the TV tuned to Escape to a New Countryside Location by the Sea, which was ridiculous because there was all that lovely greenery right behind her and birds singing their little heads off and there she was avidly gaping at the telly.
‘Mother,’ I said, ‘I need to tell you something.’
She rolled her eyes just like The Muppet and with a big put-out sigh, muted the television.
‘What is it now?’ she asked. ‘I’m trying to relax for once, and enjoy a little bit of television. It’s so dull here. There’s absolutely nothing to do, I can’t think how you bear it!’ She sounded just how I would have sounded at about 14, or in fact, just how The Muppet would have sounded if they had exchanged places. But The Muppet is still a child. Mother merely acts like one.
‘I’m going to the Seychelles tomorrow,’ I told her, mentally reminding myself to check Google to find out where it or they is or are. Just in case she cross-examined me about it later. She looked at me as if I’d just announced I was joining the NASA space programme.
‘But why haven’t you mentioned this before?’
‘Well, I…’ I faltered. Even though it was true, I didn’t really like to say ‘Because you turned up here unannounced and uninvited and have been complaining and bulldozing me ever since’, so I had to just say, rather lamely, ‘Oh—er—I’m afraid I forgot.’
She would have frowned at me if she could, but instead settled for narrowing her eyes at me menacingly and cracking her foundation. I wondered if Sid could spare her some Polyfilla. I wonder if you can get it in Tangerine?
‘You forgot?’
There was so much—I don’t know—venom seems to be the most accurate word—in her voice. She seemed angry, disbelieving, and the look in her eyes. I just don’t really know what I saw, I really don’t. It was—evil. I was taken aback by her reaction, but it was too late to get out of it now. And I could hardly explain that it was the only way she would survive before I felt I needed recourse to the blue stuff in my bag.
I shrugged my shoulders. ‘You know how the days run into one another. I just sort of lost track.’
‘Well I don’t see why we can’t stay here if you really are going to the Seychelles. After all we’ll have your staff to look after us. They’re better than nothing.’
My Staff! I wanted to scream that they weren’t my staff but my family. More than she has ever been to me. Where had my mother been when Thomas died? She had sent an elaborate bouquet of lilies and a card. Lill had held me in her arms as I sobbed snotty tears on her shoulder. Sid had driven me to my husband’s funeral, he held my arm as I walked from the car to the crematorium on wobbly legs, and he gave me his huge hanky on the way home. My voice was frosty as I said,
‘I’m afraid I’ve given them some time off whilst I’m away, the house will be closed in order to have the electrics and plumbing updated. So I’m afraid you’ll have to move into a hotel.’
‘But how long are you going to be away?’
‘Three months,’ I said, off the top of my head, ‘longer if I find I like it.’
‘We can come with you!’ she said, as if suddenly inspired.
I hadn’t bargained on that. I couldn’t think of anything to say. Suddenly exhausted, I couldn’t be bothered to argue about it any longer. If she and The Muppet decided to join me there, then I would simply come back here.
‘As you wish,’ I said. I went to the door.
She gave me another one of those looks. At least, she tried to, but Botox is simply wonderful for preventing a petulant frown.
‘You don’t want us here, do you?’
‘No,’ I said. And I turned and left the room.
I headed for the kitchen and slumped down at the table with Sid and his racing pages and a large plate of chocolate digestives.
‘I’ve told her to leave,’ I announced. They exchanged a look and Lill dropped her cloth and rushed over to kiss my cheek.
‘Oh that is good news!’
I gave them the gist of the conversation, if it could be called that, and ended with,
‘So I hope I won’t actually have to go to the Seychelles, however nice they are. And I also hope neither of you will need to move out either.’
Lill looked anxiously at Sid and then back at me. As usual Matt was off God alone knew where doing God alone knew what.
‘What’s the matter?’ I asked her.
‘We can’t go away now,’ Lill said, flustered.
‘It’s only a possibility, I’m hoping it won’t actually come to that…’
‘We’ve got some news. Good thing you’re already sitting down,’ she said. I gaped at her, holding my breath. What fresh new hell was about to befall me? I held on to the edge of the table, my knuckles white.
‘Tetley’s expecting!’ Lill announced proudly. I digested this revelation for a moment. The cat. That bloody cat! I looked over to the cosy cat bed in the corner. There appeared to be a small tabby elephant-seal curled up on a massive cushion made from some of Liberty’s finest fabric. I sighed.
‘I suppose that explains why she’s a little—er—plumper than—er—usual…’
‘Exactly. The vet’s had a look at her,’ Lill was warming to her favourite topic now, and pulled up a chair to perch next to me, all the better to give me a full outline of the case history. She was doing ‘everything’s okay’ gestures to me, both hands palms downwards. As if I was the hysterical one. ‘He says she’s fine, everything should be perfectly straightforward.’
‘When?’ I asked weakly, trying not to catch Sid’s eye, trying to remain composed.
‘About another two weeks,’ Lill said. ‘I’ve arranged a nice healthy diet for her and the vet is going to pop in a couple of times a week, and we can call him anytime, day or night, if we’ve got any worries whatsoever. Only, of course, it does mean no disruption of routine or nasty shocks.’
I nodded. If she’d told me the cat was checking into a private clinic for the duration, I would not have been surprised.
‘Well, let’s see what happens over the next day or two, shall we, and hope for the best?’
Same day: 6.15pm
Visitors gone by teatime, hooray! And—I hope Matt is happy—I haven’t killed a single person!
Clearly, I’m growing as an individual. I mean, no one knows how difficult these last few days have been for me, and yet I have managed to deal with my problems in a mature and non-violent manner. I deffo deserve a Nobel peace prize, I’m practically a humanitarian! Especially when you consider what I’m paying in vet’s fees!
Sat 11 May—1.55pm
OMG!!!! I can’t believe it! I just can’t believe I could be this low, this shallow, this selfish, this disgusting, this…this…well I can’t think of enough words to say what I want to, but I hate myself—and him! Especially him! It’s his fault too. In fact it’s all his fault!
I took myself off upstairs because I was upset about the kitten that died. I know it’s really stupid, I know it’s just an insignificant little scrap of life, but it really upset me for some reason. I mean it should have been something that would (eventually) grow into something tiny and fluffy and adorable but instead it was damp and limp and pathetic and the horrid little noises Tetley made, as if she knew… and so it was all too much and I fled upstairs like the coward I am, intending to just take a few moments to collect myself.
And then he came up. Was I okay, t
hat sort of thing. Hateful man. How dare he! How dare he be so tender, so gentle yet somehow so persistent. It’s almost as if he planned it. I feel so—not just used but manipulated! I feel as though I’ve been studied like a rat in a lab and then put into a maze where every turn I made was calculated to bring me to one single point and place. He knows my behaviour, anticipates my emotional responses, he knows exactly how to draw me in.
So he sat next to me on the edge of the bed and put his arm round me, which made me go all weak and weepy and clingy. I hate myself, and as I remember this, my face is absolutely burning with shame! And then he was kissing my neck and it just sort of happened. He nuzzled my neck and was saying soft words against my skin and suddenly we were literally tearing each other’s clothes off and—well—oh dear…
I’m weeping again. But it’s not just shame or anger—my guilt goes deeper. I have betrayed Thomas! I can’t understand how something so devastating could grow out of an apparently ordinary situation. I feel like I’m lost. Now I will never find my way back to the right path again. How can I ever redeem myself so I can look my husband’s memory in the eye again?
And I’m almost afraid to go downstairs. I’m dreading looking into his eyes and seeing that amused, knowing look, that smug, all-conquering expression, my downfall made into part of his entertainment for the week.
And what if Sid and Lill know? What will they think, say? Will they be horrified, disgusted? Or is this what they’ve all been planning all this time, to get me in a position of vulnerability?
But no, I don’t really think…
Oh, God! I just don’t know what to think…
And of course, afterwards, I just sort of mumbled something and grabbed my clothes and raced for my bathroom and locked myself in. I ran a bath to cover the sound of my hysterics and after about ten minutes or so, when I was calmer, I heard him leave.
If only I’d shouted at him. Or mustered my tattered dignity and told him to get out. But because I ran, I lost the advantage, lost the chance of taking charge of the situation and knowing exactly how things stood.
Why am I such a moron?
Oh holy shit what am I going to do?
Later: 2.45pm
I’ve been sitting up here for nearly two hours, too scared to go downstairs. But it’s my house after all, and obviously I can’t stay up here forever.
So I’ve mustered the tatters of my dignity etc etc and done my face and my hair and changed into a really super new outfit. I look as cool, calm and collected as it’s possible to look when one feels like wetting oneself in terror.
Right then. I’m going to go downstairs and generally stalk about a bit being confident and unruffled, then I’m going shopping. Wish me luck!
Later still: 9.30pm
So I went down and after a bit of pointless and unnoticed stalking and unrufflage, I finally tracked Lill down to the utility room where she was tucking in Tetley’s blanket around a few semi-furred, tiny bodies suckling happily at her enormous undercarriage (Tetley’s not Lill’s!)
Lill turned and beamed at me in teary happiness, her mind wrapped around just one concern.
‘Just the four then,’ she said, ‘but the vet’s been and checked Tetley and the babies over and said they’re all fine. Two girls and two boys. The two tabbies are a boy and a girl and the tortie, obviously, is a girl and the ginger one, as I’m sure you realise, is the other boy. And the vet took away the poor little chap what didn’t make it.’ Her voice quavered, and before my own precarious composure crumpled, I pointed to the ginger kitten.
‘Looks a bit like Twinkle, doesn’t it?’
‘Hmm well, I suppose sometimes even a lady goes for that rough, dangerous type.’
I looked at her sharply but there didn’t seem to be anything behind what she’d said. So I asked, ‘Have you thought of any names for them yet?’
‘Thought I’d wait and see if you had any suggestions, Cressida.’
‘That’s all right, you can name them. But don’t forget, we will have to give them away to new homes, we can’t possibly have five cats around the house.’
She laughed merrily. And changed the subject by asking if I was going out. I said I was. She said something about everyone going out and leaving her to her babies.
I said, ‘Are the boys out too, then?’ ‘The boys’ meaning Sid and Matt-the-Vile-Seducer. Of course, she, being blind to their faults, referred to them simply as ‘the boys’, and I had begun to do the same. She nodded.
‘Gone down the pub.’
I said a hasty goodbye and left.
OMG! That means Matt will be sharing bedroom secrets (my bedroom! Eek!) over a pint with his father! OMG I am never going to be able to show my face again.
Quick, I thought, I need therapy, and was driving down the road to Gloucester in twenty seconds flat.
For the first time in ages, I wished Monica and I were still friends. I really needed her advice and sympathy right now. I missed having someone to hang out with.
Desperate, but knowing I was letting myself in for an I-told-you-so lecture I rang Jess in Scotland once I got to the nearest coffee shop, and I poured out the whole story to her, horribly aware that a woman sitting at an adjacent table was unashamedly eavesdropping.
After Jess had worn out all her I-told-you-so remarks and simmered down, I said,
‘Yes, yes, you’re a bloody genius, now stop telling me off and tell me what I can do to make this all okay.’
‘Do you think he was just using you?’ she asked. I laughed, angry. What was she talking about?
‘Of course he was just using me! What else would he have been doing?’ I said with as much scorn as I could load into those few words. I mean, I love her to bits, but really!
‘You could sack him, if only he actually worked for you. I suppose you could sack his parents…’
‘That’s just not an option,’ I snapped, envisioning Lill suing me for custody of the kittens.
‘But as I was about to say when you so rudely interrupted, that’s not going to happen, so you’d be better off just having a chat with him, grab the bull by the horns and say that it was all a terrible mistake and you would like to forget all about it, and then you will just have to make an effort to get on with your life. Hopefully, lesson learned.’ When I didn’t say anything she added, more gently, ‘it will get easier, Cress.’
I nodded then realise this wasn’t radio and said thank you.
‘And now, my Darling, I’m sorry,’ she said, ‘but I’ve got to go, we’ve got Americans.’
I sighed and put my phone away. The woman at the next table was still watching me and I toyed with the idea of saying something simply horrid just to make her leave me alone. She leaned forward and whispered loudly,
‘I’m terribly sorry to intrude, but I couldn’t help overhearing. Something similar happened to me a couple of years ago.’
She was well-dressed and wearing gorgeous shoes and so I patted the seat of the chair next to me in invitation and she and her cappuccino scooted across.
‘Vivienne Spartan-Martin,’ she said. She held out a dainty little beringed hand and I shook it.
‘Cressida Barker-Powell.’
She took up her teaspoon and began to swirl her foam with it.
‘I take it you’ve slept with your hired chappie, and regretted it in the morning?’
I admitted it was something along those lines.
‘Well,’ she said, and leaning closer she began to carefully and embarrassingly lick the foam from her spoon. ‘You might find that a more regular arrangement is satisfactory to all concerned. I decided to allocate funds to my chappie, to make it an official and prearranged thing. After all,’ she took another dainty lick with the hot-pink tip of her tongue, eyes half-closed in pleasure, ‘we women have our needs.’
Oh God, I was thinking, what new nightmare is this? Outwardly I sipped my coffee nicely, patting my mouth with my napkin now and again. I said, ‘I don’t think that would really be quite ‘me’.
But it’s an interesting idea.’
She didn’t seem offended. She gave a little shrug.
‘Well in that case, you will just have to apologise for the lapse and ask for his discretion. Presumably, if he’s in your house, you trust him? I mean, there’s not really anything else you can do.’
She was right. Jess was right. Time to stop panicking and just hope I could trust him, hope we could move on.
‘You haven’t done anything wrong,’ she added, ‘and you are only human.’
I nodded. True. All too, too true. Unfortunately.
‘Was he any good?’ she asked. I couldn’t help a rueful smile. Now it was my turn to stir my coffee.
‘Oh yes,’ I said.
I mooched around the shops with my new friend. We exchanged phone numbers and email addresses. Possibly we might meet up again some time, she seems all right, if a bit, well, you know, unusual.
Mon 20 May—4.10pm
I managed to corner Matt in the front hall when he was doing something with a screwdriver and a shelf bracket and, seizing the moment, I said in a rather rushed voice,
‘With regard to what happened between us the other day, I would like to apologise for my regrettable behaviour and to assure you that I will in future always maintain my composure and of course, my distance, at all times and without exception, so you may rest assured there will be no further unpleasantness in that regard. Good afternoon.’
He looked first surprised, then even more surprised, then distinctly annoyed. I do not understand that man. But at least he now knows where he—and I—stand on this rather tricky issue. Hopefully that’s the end of it.
It is too late to get my perfect life back. I see that now.