“I’m sorry,” Catherine said, with a shrug that hinted she wasn’t that sorry.
Alison raised her eyebrows.
“Well, don’t be too sorry. The last time I saw your husband I was on the verge of asking him to go to bed with me.” She tilted her head, adding a touch sharply, “I didn’t … that time.”
“As if I’d care what you did,” Catherine said, surprised by the tension she felt in her chest. “It’s got nothing to do with me.”
Alison watched her for a second. “If you say so,” she replied, unconvinced, adding with a smile, “Do you remember all those years I used to follow him around? He’s still a fox.”
“I know,” Catherine replied defensively, suddenly thinking of Jimmy and the way he’d looked at her when he’d found her with Marc. The intensity in his eyes had caught her off guard. No other man had ever looked at her the way he had. “But we’re split up, so …”
She trailed off, furious that Alison had managed to unnerve her so with her half-baked revelation. This was not how it should be going. Catherine glowered at her erstwhile friend.
“So how’s it going in here?” Kirsty asked brightly as she came in with plates of steaming and largely orange food, adding proudly, “I chopped that coriander.”
“Awkwardly,” Catherine said, shooting her friend a look that Kirsty studiously ignored.
“Well, drink some more and that will sort that out,” Kirsty said, opening another bottle of wine. “Now come on, dinner is served and I haven’t slaved over this for, well, minutes just for it to spoil.”
There was silence as Kirsty refilled Catherine’s wineglass for the third time, watching her neighbor push a bit of irradiated chicken round her plate with a distinct lack of enthusiasm.
As soon as she topped off Alison’s glass, Alison emptied it almost immediately.
“It seems to be taking a lot of wine to loosen you two up,” Kirsty observed, looking at the empty bottle. “At this rate I’ll have to go to the liquor store.”
Neither one of her guests replied.
“Okay,” Kirsty said. “The way I look at it we can do one of two things here. Either we could treat this as a sort of therapy session. You two could air all of your grievances, talk about the sense of loss, the betrayal. You know, purge yourselves of all the bitterness and recriminations, hurl insults and accusations, make each other cry, and blah, blah, blah, or …”
“Or what?” Catherine asked.
“Go home?” Alison added hopefully, her eyes meeting Catherine’s briefly, as for the first time in fifteen years they had something in common.
“I’ve told you. Not an option,” Kirsty said quite sternly before erupting into a smile once again. “Or we can make my house Switzerland. We can pretend we don’t know anything about stealing husbands, abandoning friends, inappropriate passes, and all of that sordid business you married types get up to, and just hang out and try to have a laugh. Tonight you are on neutral territory and from now on we shall not talk about anything to do with either of you. Here we shall talk woman to woman, friend to friend, and only of the truly important issues in today’s world.”
“Which are?” Catherine asked her.
“Me and how I can get Sam to like me, of course!” Kirsty replied. “You two men stealers must have a few tips on that. So drink up, we’ve got a lot of planning to do, and I always find the drunker I am the better my plans get.”
Kirsty put her palms on the table and looked around her.
“Speaking of which, where did I put that bottle of tequila?”
“I’m not sure this is a good plan,” Catherine said, screwing up her eyes as she sucked a wedge of lemon and then downed another shot of tequila.
“Don’t be crazy, it’s a genius plan,” Alison countered. “How could it possibly go wrong?”
Catherine wagged an unsteady finger at Alison. “You would say that, you’re the girl who thought it would be a good idea to smuggle vodka into school in Coke bottles.”
“I don’t know why you’re complaining, I took the fall for that one,” Alison said, turning to Kirsty. “Three days’ suspension I got, when she was just as drunk as me, except when I’m drunk I get all loud and hilarious and when she’s drunk she gets all quiet and sullen so no one could tell she was drunk.”
“I didn’t even know the vodka was in the Coke …” Catherine complained.
Kirsty topped off their shot glasses.
“Okay, let’s recap the plan. We go round to Sam’s flat and then what …”
“That’s as far as the plan got,” Alison said, downing her shot.
“That’s why it’s a terrible plan,” Catherine said, her eyes watering as she downed her shot. “Going round to a man’s flat at past … one in the morning to spy on him qualifies as stalking, not wooing.”
“She’s right,” Kirsty said. “I can’t just turn up there and peer in through his windows to look at him. That would be wrong. Also he lives on the second floor, so it would be dangerous too. When we’re there I’ll tell him I love him and then … then he’ll know.”
“Perfect,” Alison said.
“You are insane,” Catherine said, leaning forward on her elbows so that her nose was mere millimeters from Kirsty’s.
“I told you,” Alison said, tipping her chair back at a dangerous angle. “Sullen and morose, every time. She’s not a happy drunk.”
“I am not sullen,” Catherine protested, swinging her head in Alison’s direction. “I’m a very funny drunk. And anyway it’s better than being a slutty drunk …”
“Anyway,” Kirsty said, slapping her palm down on the table. “Catherine, you should be pleased. You’re always telling me I shouldn’t try to play games with him, that the whole ignoring him thing wouldn’t work. Well, now I’m listening to you. Now I’m going to talk to him. Woman to woman. Man to man. Man to woman to …whatever. I’m following your advice so actually this is your plan that you’re dissing.”
Catherine shook her head and began to stand up. “The pair of you are mentals and I’m not coming,” she said, swaying forward and using the table to steady herself. “I want no part of this madness!”
“Which is his flat?” Catherine hissed at the two other women crouched in the somewhat thorny bushes outside the Longsdale House Apartment building.
“It’s either that one,” Kirsty said, pointing rather vaguely at three or four windows at once, “or that one. Or that one.”
“The lights are on in that one,” Alison said, pointing at one set of illuminated windows. “Let’s try that one.”
“Hang on!” Catherine held her palms up in the universal stop sign. “What if that is not his flat?”
“Then we’ll try another one, obviously,” Alison said.
“That’s not a good idea.” Catherine frowned at her. “I don’t know why, I can’t remember just at the moment. But it’ll come back to me.”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” Alison said, making a w with her fingers. “What ever.”
Kirsty had gotten up while they were squabbling and was kicking about on the ground; then she bent down rather unsteadily and picked up half a brick she found lurking in the bushes.
“And what are you going to do with that?” Alison asked her. “Brain him?”
“No, I’m going to chuck it at his window, you know—like they do in the films,” Kirsty replied, limbering up.
“That will go right through his window, you moron,” Catherine said. “If it even is his window. Come on. Let’s find some stones, pebbles. If you’re going to throw stones at a random window, you might as well do it properly.”
“Creep,” Alison said under her breath as she joined in the search on her hands and knees to look for pebbles.
“Tart,” Catherine replied as she clawed through the dirt.
“Ladder,” Kirsty added.
“What?” Catherine and Alison both said at once.
“Ladder, I could really do with a ladder,” Kirsty explained.
After a fe
w minutes they had gotten together a handful of small stones for Kirsty to throw at the window that might or might not belong to Sam.
“Right, I’m ready,” Kirsty said, taking a deep breath. “This is it, girls. Showtime.”
She chucked the meager handful with all her might and they peppered the soil about a foot and a half in front of her.
“Oh. That didn’t go so well,” Kirsty said, looking confusedly at the ground. The three women stood in silence for a moment, puzzled by the anticlimax.
“I know!” Alison shouted before she remembered that this was a stealth operation. “Sing him a song.”
“Oooh, good idea,” Catherine said before immediately checking her enthusiasm for the plan. “Better than chucking bricks is what I mean. This whole thing is mainly a bad idea, but that particular part of it was a bit less bad than the rest.”
“What shall I sing him?” Kirsty asked them.
“Well, what’s your song? What number sums up the precious moments that you’ve spent together?” Alison asked.
Kirsty thought for a moment. “Well, his mobile phone did go off once during sex. Apart from that we haven’t got a song, unless you count the combat training megamix workout at the gym. We used to take that class together.”
“Well … how does it go?” Alison encouraged her.
“Sort of da, da, da da da, da da da da, da! Da! Da!”
Catherine and Alison joined in with gusto if not exactly any skill, and leaning haphazardly against one another, the three of them sang at the tops of their voices.
Once they’d run out of breath they paused, looking up at the lit window, waiting for a response. None came.
“ ’S not working,” Kirsty said, her shoulders dropping.
“Double bastard glazing,” Alison said. “Keeps out singing, which in my opinion is an unforeseen drawback. No wonder romance is dead in the modern world.”
“We need to drink more,” Catherine suggested. “If we drank more we’d have a better plan. I think I’m sobering up. For some reason I seem to have a terrible headache.”
“Wait!” Kirsty grabbed both of them and froze to the spot like a meerkat in the desert. The lights in the communal stairwell were coming on one floor at a time. Someone was coming down the stairs.
“Hide!” Catherine hissed, tackling the others into the bush just outside the door.
“I’ve broken a nail because of you!” Alison groaned miserably, wiping her muddy hand on her sweater. “Bitch.”
“I wonder who’s going out at this time of night,” Catherine said somberly as they waited for the front door to open. “Must be a drug addict. Only a drug addict would be out now.”
“Right, wait until whoever it is opens the door and then rush the door,” Alison said.
“Okay,” Kirsty said. “Why?”
“Because then we’ll be inside, of course,” Alison said. “I bet the doors inside aren’t double-glazed.”
The three held their breaths as the last sets of lights switched on.
“Now!” Kirsty yelled, making one poor unsuspecting man jump out of his skin, gripping onto the door for dear life.
“Please don’t hurt me, just take my wallet, plea—Kirsty, what the fuck are you doing here and why are you all covered in mud?” Sam eyed Catherine and Alison warily.
“Are you all in some kind of coven?”
“Oh, do you live here?” Kirsty asked him. “What a coincidence. We were just out on the town having a carefree, devil-may-care girls’ night out, like happy single women do, when Alison here lost her car keys and so we were looking for them.”
“Here?” Sam smiled at her. “She lost her car keys here? What were you doing with your car here and … well, anyway, I’m not being funny but I don’t think any of you should be driving.”
“I know,” Alison said, tottering over to Sam, putting her arm around his neck, and fluttering her lashes. “Which is why it’s your civic duty to make us all coffee.”
Sam laughed. “I haven’t got any milk,” he said. “I was just off to the twenty-four-hour gas station to get milk. I couldn’t sleep.”
“That’s okay,” Alison said in a husky voice. “We like it strong and dark.”
“And bitter,” Kirsty added.
“And slutty,” Catherine piped up.
Sam rubbed his hand over the top of his head.
“I must be crazy, but you’d better come in before you get arrested.”
“Oh God, I love you,” Kirsty gushed before catching herself and saying, “I mean thanks ever so. Most kind of you.”
“Plus you have a very nice arse,” Catherine said as she walked in. It took her the three flights of stairs to believe what had just come out of her mouth.
“Coffee was a bad idea,” Alison said to Catherine, peering down at her ruined sweater. “Because now I’m starting to realize I’m in some strange man’s flat covered in mud with a jackhammer going off in my head.”
Catherine leaned her head against the cool pane of the window she was looking out and sipped her coffee.
“I don’t think I’ve stayed up this late since … since Jimmy played this gig at the Marquee in London. It was supposed to be his big break, supporting some American band. We all got excited and stayed out all night, watched the sun come up in Regents Park. Nothing came of it, of course, but I think that was the last time I stayed out this late, before Eloise was born.” She paused and pinched her temple. “My eyes hurt. Is it possible for eyeballs to explode?”
She shifted her attention to the kitchen, where Kirsty was helping Sam with the instant coffee.
“Do you think they’re talking in there or having sex?” she asked Alison blurrily. “Based on the coffee I’d say having sex.”
But to Catherine’s surprise Kirsty walked out of the kitchen fully dressed and sat on the couch, nursing a mug of steaming coffee.
“I’m sorry about all this,” she said to Sam as he sat down precisely one cushion apart from her. “We drank tequila and then they said we should come over and do stupid stuff.” She pointed at Catherine and Alison. “They made me do it.”
“We did,” Alison said, winking at Catherine. “We’re evil.”
“It’s the coven, you see,” Catherine said. “It demands a sacrifice.”
“We all just wanted to see you, all of us together,” Kirsty attempted to explain. “To, you know, see how you are. How’s Sam? we wondered, and the next thing we knew we were here. That’s tequila for you, because you know I’d … we’d never do anything so stalkery without the demon tequila.”
“You didn’t have to do mud wrestling to get my attention.” Sam smiled. “If you wanted to see me you should have rung the bell. I was up anyway. Like I said, I couldn’t sleep.”
“We didn’t know if you wanted to see us,” Kirsty said with heavy emphasis on the plural. “We thought you might be with some other slut.”
“Of course I wanted to see you,” Sam said, looking puzzled. “You’re the reason I can’t sleep. I thought that you … all … didn’t want to see me. You haven’t spoken to me since we spent the weekend together. I thought that you weren’t interested anymore and that you’d had your fun and moved on. It’s been getting me down, actually, because I can’t stop thinking about you, by which I mean just you and not those two other scary women you brought with you, no offense.”
“Ahhh,” Catherine and Alison chorused, catching each other’s eye and giggling.
“What—pardon?” Kirsty said, rubbing her ear vigorously just in case she’d misheard.
“I like you Kirsty, a lot,” Sam told her.
“But you left without saying good-bye or anything,” Kirsty said. “You just went. I thought that was your way of telling me it was a one-off.”
“I had a run scheduled with a client,” Sam explained. “Six a.m. every Monday before he goes to work in the city. He’s training for the London marathon. I left you a note on the pillow next to you.”
“Oh,” Kirsty said. “I’m a ver
y restless sleeper.”
“You didn’t see it on the floor?” Sam asked her.
“There’re a lot of things on my floor,” Kirsty said. “Sort of hard to pick one thing out from another if you don’t know what to look for.”
“Oh, so he’s not a heartless philandering sex pest after all,” Alison cut in happily. “Shame.”
“So,” Sam said. “What do you want to do now?”
“Go to bed with you, please,” Kirsty replied instantly.
“And after that?” Sam smiled.
“I don’t know, maybe breakfast and then more bed … ?”
“No, I mean, do you want to go out with me? Be my … actual girlfriend?”
“Oh.” Kirsty looked thoughtful. “Okay, then. Can we go to bed now?”
“A-hem,” Catherine coughed loudly. “And what about us?”
“You know the way home, don’t you?” Kirsty said, unable to take her eyes off of Sam.
“Actually, no,” Alison said. “This block of flats wasn’t even here last time I lived in Farmington. I have no idea where I am.”
Kirsty looked pleadingly at Catherine.
Catherine sighed.
“You can come back with me, I suppose,” she said. “It will be morning soon anyway.”
Kirsty got up and hugged both of the women.
“You see, this evening has gone exactly as I planned. It’s gone perfectly. I so totally knew what I was doing. I never had a single doubt.”
“Of course you didn’t,” Catherine said to Kirsty in a low voice, as Alison made her way out of the flat and gingerly began the descent down the stairs. “Just one more thing.”
“What’s that?” Kirsty asked her.
“I’ll deal with you later,” Catherine promised her.
“Like I care,” Kirsty said, and she slammed the door shut in her face.
Another Mother's Life Page 27