Not Funny Not Clever

by Jo Verity

  ‘It smells wonderful,’ Lenny said, taking a piece of bread from the bowl and daubing it with butter.

  There followed a silent but determined jostling for position. Finally, when everyone was seated, Dafydd, Elizabeth, Angel and Mimi were on one side of the table, Lenny, Jordan (looking as if he might pass out with pleasure), Joe and Diane on the other. Angel seemed happy to be sitting opposite Joe but Mimi, who was on the end and across from Diane, looked thoroughly cheesed off. They tucked into the food, thanking Diane and Joe, agreeing that a simple meal, eaten with friends, triumphed every time over ostentatious restaurant fare.

  Throughout supper, Lenny and Joe kept up an excellent cabaret act, entertaining them with tales of Wolfman on and off the road.

  ‘But enough of us,’ Lenny said. ‘Did you make it to Rhossili? You were well on your way when Dafydd rang.’

  ‘Of course we made it,’ Dafydd said.

  ‘We had lunch at the pub,’ Diane said. ‘Afterwards, we had to fight our way out through a mob of his fans.’ She nodded towards Dafydd.

  Lenny grimaced. ‘Sad, isn’t it? Poor deluded souls. They think the sun shines out of him.’

  Dafydd’s mood had lifted whilst they’d been eating and Elizabeth thought Lenny’s cheesy pun might unleash a few meteorological anecdotes, but Mimi dived in first.

  ‘You’ll never guess what. Jay only saved a baby’s life.’

  ‘Really?’ Joe said. ‘How come?’

  Elizabeth half expected Jordan to interject with some sort of denial but he seemed happy enough for this particular information to come out as, with his middle finger, he chivvied breadcrumbs into a pile in the centre of his plate.

  ‘You know the path to the beach? It goes like this?’ Mimi dipped her hand at a steep angle. ‘Jay stopped a runaway buggy. He was awesome. Everyone else just stood there. But he did this fantastic kind of sprint and grabbed the handles before it shot over the edge. It was amazing.’ She faltered, suddenly conscious that seven people were listening to her. ‘Then Dad turned up.’ She nodded to her father. ‘You tell the rest of it.’

  Dafydd took up the tale whilst Jordan listened intently as if it were someone else’s story, leaving Mimi and Angel to flesh out the scene. Lethal rocks waiting to bash the baby’s brains out. The snot streaming from the screaming toddler’s nose. Tanya and the chain-smoking boyfriend’s tattoos.

  ‘By the sound of it, she’s one lucky baby,’ Lenny said when Mimi and Angel ran out of steam. ‘A toast’s in order, don’t you think?’ He lifted his glass. ‘Jay. Hero of Rhossili.’

  They followed his lead, standing up and raising their glasses towards Jordan, who, face flushed with pride, remained seated as though his bubble of glory would burst if he were to so much as twitch.

  Dafydd leaned close to Elizabeth. ‘Someone’s happy.’

  ‘Make the most of it. It won’t last.’

  She edged towards him, resting her thigh against his under cover of the table, holding her breath as his hand searched for the open seam of the wrap-around skirt.

  ‘We should make a move soon,’ Elizabeth said. She was very comfortable and would have been happy to stay where she was, sprawled at one end of the squidgy sofa, Dafydd at the other. But it was getting late.

  Angel and Mimi were sitting cross-legged on the rug, eyes fixed on the television screen as they played some frenetic game on Lenny’s latest gizmo. Diane was in the kitchen with Joe. She could hear them laughing and the tinkle of cutlery.

  Dafydd levered himself upright and looked at his watch. ‘You’re right. C’mon girls. Time to hit the road.’

  ‘A bit longer Dad.’

  ‘Can’t we finish this game?’

  ‘Where’s Jay?’ Elizabeth asked.

  ‘In the barn with Lenny,’ Angel said without taking her eyes off the screen.

  ‘It’s his turn. I texted him. But he says he’s,’ Mimi interrogated her mobile, ‘“writing something”.’ She stuck out her tongue. ‘Big deal.’

  Diane came in from the kitchen. Folding one leg beneath her, she flopped down on the sofa between Dafydd and Elizabeth. ‘Had a nice evening, Lizzie?’

  ‘Mmmm. Lovely. I’m just summoning up the willpower to move. We’ll be off in a sec if we can retrieve Jay.’

  Diane caught hold of Elizabeth’s hand as if to endorse their friendship. She lowered her voice. ‘D’you think we could have a quick word? In private.’

  When Elizabeth stood up, Dafydd did too, but she motioned him to stay where he was. ‘Girly chat. Won’t be long.’

  Diane led her into the kitchen and closed the door behind them.

  Elizabeth raised her eyebrows. ‘I feel apprehensive. Should I?’

  ‘I’m staying here tonight. That’s okay with you, isn’t it?’

  It took Elizabeth a second or two to catch on. ‘With Joe?’

  ‘Yes. We’ve kind of … clicked.’

  Diane had spent the evening flirting with Joe Carman but Elizabeth hadn’t seen this one coming.

  ‘But I thought we agreed we’d be off first thing in the morning.’

  ‘We will. I’ll be back by nine.’ Diane adopted a little-girl pout. ‘Promise.’

  Before Elizabeth could voice further objections, Diane continued. ‘Jordan wants to stay, too. But he’s too scared to ask you. Lenny says it’s fine with him.’

  What a nerve. Cooking up little schemes behind her back, making her out to be a tyrant. It wasn’t on. There wasn’t much she could do about Diane’s inappropriate and inconsiderate behaviour but Jordan was in her care. Having got this far through the week without any major catastrophe, she would be crazy to let him off the leash now.

  ‘I don’t think so,’ she said primly. ‘You may have forgotten, but we’re the Jones’s guests. Jordan can’t simply ditch them when he gets a better offer.’

  ‘Don’t be so … po-faced. Lighten up. He’s having the time of his life. How often d’you get the chance to play fairy godmother?’ Diane patted her hand. ‘And he did save a life today.’

  She snatched her hand away. ‘Jordan aside, have you considered the message you’re sending out to the girls? While their father’s trying to set out boundaries, you’re bunking up with someone you’ve known for five minutes.’ She had the bit between her teeth now. ‘And have you thought how awkward it’ll be for Dafydd? He and Carl are good friends. D’you expect him to cover up for you like I do?’

  Diane ignored her final dig. ‘The girls needn’t know. I could say I’m staying to … do the vocals. No. I’ve agreed to paint Lenny and Joe and I’m staying to do some preparatory sketches.’

  ‘Don’t be ridiculous. Even if the girls swallow the story – which they won’t – Jordan’s going to notice that you’re not singing or sketching. He’s not an idiot. He’ll be Twittering and texting the second he twigs what’s going on. Probably photographing it for his holiday project, too.’

  Diane shrugged and poked out her tongue. ‘Well, you can tell them whatever you like because I’m staying.’

  Before Elizabeth had chance to reply, she’d flounced out of the kitchen.

  When Dafydd came to find her she was drinking a glass of water. ‘Where’s Diane?’

  ‘Upstairs I imagine, fucking Joe.’

  ‘You’re joking.’

  She gave him a résumé of their ‘girly chat’. ‘I can’t believe that she’s put us all in this position. On second thoughts, yes, I can. It’s classic Diane Shapcott.’

  He thanked her for trying to protect him and his daughters. ‘I’ll have a word with the girls. I don’t suppose they’ll be too shocked. They know what goes on.’ He thought for a moment. ‘I’m not sure what I’ll do about Carl though. He’s a nice guy.’

  ‘And then there’s Jordan. I don’t think it’s a good idea for him to stay, do you?’

  He shrugged. ‘Why not? He won’t get much sleep but he’s probably too hyped up anyway.’

  She had been sure that Dafydd would back her and his reply surprised her. Ahhh. Was sh
e being slow on the uptake? Might he be glad to have both Diane and Jordan out of the way? She wasn’t going to think about that because, so far this week, very little had turned out as she’d envisaged.

  ‘I give in. Let them go hang,’ she said.

  ‘Right answer.’ He kissed her quickly on the lips. ‘Let’s be on our way then.’

  ‘I can’t leave before thanking Lenny. And I should tell Jordan that we’re off.’

  ‘You do that. I’ll prise my two away from that gruesome game. Explain what’s happening.’

  When she reached the barn, the door was open. Jordan and Lenny had their backs to her and they didn’t hear her come in. Jordan was perched on the arm of the chair, picking out chords on the ‘pretty’ guitar whilst Lenny stood at the keyboard, playing the same phrase over and over again.

  She cleared her throat.

  ‘Hi,’ Lenny said, raising his hand. ‘We’re just trying out a few things.’

  ‘Yes. I was listening. It’s very … catchy.’

  Catchy? Apart from her mother, did anyone say ‘catchy’?

  ‘We’re off now,’ she said. ‘I wanted to say thanks for a lovely evening.’ Not sure how to continue she said, ‘I shall rush out on Monday and buy all your albums.’

  ‘Thank you for coming,’ Lenny said. ‘And don’t go making rash promises.’ He took two CDs from the pile on top of the piano. ‘Here. Try before you buy.’

  They made the usual unfeasible promises to stay in touch – ‘Next time you’re in Wales…’, ‘When you’re back in London…’ Then, much to her surprise, he kissed her, quickly but firmly, on the lips.

  ‘You take care, sad-eyed lady. Watch out for charming Celts.’

  She blushed. Jordan, too, seemed embarrassed and they avoided each others’ eyes as she said, ‘Diane promised, on pain of death, that you’ll be back by nine. I’m trusting you to hold her to that.’

  Jordan nodded solemnly. ‘Cheers, Elizabeth.’

  As she closed the door, she realised that it was the first time he had used her name.

  Not long ago, a dog would have been tethered at the farm gate to warn of approaching strangers but now security lights protected the property, illuminating the yard, their harsh beams out of place in the velvet darkness. She understood why they were there. It wouldn’t take a mastermind to deduce that Lenny Butler’s house was packed with all sorts of goodies. She’d read how footballers’ houses were targeted whilst matches were in progress. It must be a worry for Lenny. Anyone could find out when Wolfman was on tour. There were ruthless people in the world and these lights, though menacing, were probably necessary.

  Misgivings started to niggle. Jordan was her responsibility yet she was abandoning him to strangers. Every day the papers were filled with reports of child-abuse and ‘grooming’ and perversion. All this – the secluded house, the barn – provided a perfect set-up for unspeakable things.

  Dafydd was leaning on the car waiting for her. ‘The girls are titivating. Can’t imagine why. It’s pitch dark and we’re going straight home.’ He frowned. ‘Is everything okay?’

  ‘I’m not sure. Not really. I’m leaving Jordan here with two men I don’t know from Adam. It doesn’t feel … right.’

  He laughed. ‘Is that all? Look, he’s safe as houses with old Len.’

  ‘That’s what they always say.’

  ‘Who? I don’t know what you’re talking about.’

  ‘Neighbours. Workmates. “He was a really nice guy. Normal. Friendly.” But it’s too late then. The damage has been done.’

  ‘Come on.’ He made an attempt to put his arms around her but she drew back.

  ‘No. Everyone keeps patting me and stroking me as though I’m unhinged.’

  He sighed. ‘Be reasonable, Elizabeth. You’re getting steamed up over nothing.’

  ‘Am I? Well it’s your fault.’

  ‘My fault?’ He stifled a laugh. ‘How d’you make that out?’

  ‘Yesterday you warned me that Butler’s a lecher. Don’t deny it. You virtually told me that he’s a sex maniac. Now suddenly, he’s “old Len”, the harmless old codger.’

  She sensed him stiffen. Lenny was his friend and she’d gone too far.

  ‘Did anything in his behaviour this evening give you cause for concern? Did he get drunk?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Did he say anything inappropriate? Tell smutty jokes?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Did he grope you, or anyone, come to that?’

  ‘No but?’

  ‘You’re furious with Diane, and fed up with Jordan. But don’t take it out on Lenny.’

  Had she wanted to call a halt to this now, she would have been unable to and she ploughed on. ‘Don’t you think it’s weird that a man of his age is taking so much interest in a boy?’

  ‘Have you considered that he might simply be a kind man? That he might want to give a youngster a bit of encouragement?’

  ‘All I know about him is that he’s a rock star.’ She paused. ‘Would you entrust anyone in your charge to … to … Gary Glitter?’

  He held his hands up. ‘Whoa. We’re being more than a little fanciful here, aren’t we?’

  ‘Well you’re being more than a little patronising. And don’t try telling me that Diane will keep an eye on him, because she won’t.’

  ‘It’s clear how you feel about your friend – with good reason, might I say – but don’t go casting aspersions about mine. Okay?’ His tone was cool. ‘Perhaps you should tell Jordan that you’ve changed your mind.’

  She closed her eyes, listening for Laurence’s wise voice to advise her. If he’d been lumbered with Jordan, what would he do? He certainly wouldn’t haul him off to stay with friends, then off again to stay with friends of friends. He’d find someone to look after Jordan. A minder. (Laurence never did the ‘hands on’ thing.) Which was what Lenny Butler was offering to be – Jordan’s minder. (His phone was never more than six inches from his hand should he need to call her.)

  ‘No. You’re right.’ She closed her eyes against the intense lights and massaged her temples with her fingertips ‘I’m sorry. Take no notice of me. I’m … I don’t know.’ She yawned and shivered. ‘It’s chilly. Or is it me?’

  He pulled one of the wipers away from the windscreen, extricating a leaf that had lodged between it and the glass. ‘You’re tired. We all are. Let’s get you home.’

  Angel and Mimi emerged noisily from the house and the four of them piled into the car and, with a couple of farewell toots they drove off.

  The wind was stiffer now. The hedgerow trees danced in the headlights as they wound along the narrow road towards the village. Yesterday Elizabeth had made up her mind to take Dafydd Jones as a lover. But their early morning conversation had nudged her into a slightly different place. Perhaps, from this altered viewpoint, she should take a fresh look at the people around her, the people who had driven her life for so long – Laurence, Diane, her sons; re-examine what they meant to her, what they represented. And Dafydd? She wasn’t sure any more.

  Behind her, the girls were bickering, Mimi accusing Angel of borrowing a pair of her shoes without permission.

  She smiled to herself. Sisters.

  She and Rosie had constantly squabbled over make-up or shoes – anything that the one sister could ‘borrow’ from the other. On one occasion they had come to blows. With the money from her Saturday job at the bread shop (how she’d hated that hideous hairnet affair they’d all been forced to wear), she’d saved enough for a pair of Ziggy Stardust boots – red with platform soles and three little buckles at the ankle. She had loved those boots with such passion that she’d wrenched out a handful of Rosie’s hair when she discovered that, not only had her sister ‘borrowed’ them but she’d dropped something greasy on the shiny leather.

  The voices rumbled on and she closed her eyes, leaning her head against the headrest. What happened to those boots? She would never have thrown them out. She must ask her mother the next time they spoke.r />
  ‘Shit,’ Dafydd muttered.

  The girls screamed and Elizabeth was flung first forward then hard back into the seat, her head thumping against the headrest. The car slewed across the road and came to a standstill.

  ‘Are you okay?’ he said. ‘Mimi? Angel?’

  The girls were obviously shaken but, in turn, they confirmed that they were unhurt.

  ‘Elizabeth?’

  She flexed her neck and then her limbs, unclipping her seatbelt and shifting cautiously in her seat. ‘Okay, I think. What about you?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘What happened, Dad?’

  ‘Did we hit something?’

  ‘Look at it.’ He banged his palms on the rim of the steering wheel. ‘Stupid bloody thing came from nowhere.’

  The car had stalled but its headlights were still on, revealing the form of a stocky pony, its dark coat making it difficult to pick out against the foliage of the hedge. Had they been travelling any faster, they would certainly have hit the horse, injuring it, and themselves.

  He switched off the lights and they got out of the car, stretching warily, testing their limbs. The moon, misted by thin cloud, cast sufficient light for them to see the horse, which was nonchalantly grazing the grass at the foot of the hedge. It raised its head and came towards them and Elizabeth caught a whiff of its yeasty scent.

  Angel stroked its nose. ‘Poor old thing. Did we give you a fright?’

  ‘Never mind the bloody horse.’ Dafydd slapped the animal’s rump. ‘Scram.’

  Unperturbed, it ambled into the shadows behind the car.

  Rooting around in the glove compartment, he unearthed a torch and walked around the vehicle, checking for signs of damage. ‘Tyres okay. No fuel leaking, as far as I can see. Hang on and I’ll see if it starts.’

  The car started first time and he manoeuvred it to face the right way.

  ‘Let’s get home,’ he said.

  Elizabeth had no qualms about getting back in the car beside him. She’d not kept a tally of how much he’d drunk but she was sure that, knowing he would be driving his daughters home, he hadn’t taken any risks. As she drew the seatbelt across her chest, the rigid fabric came into contact with the skin on her collar bone and a stinging soreness made her wince. She explored the area tentatively with her fingertips. It felt wet. Sticky. The belt must have dug in as it tightened to prevent her from hurtling into the windscreen. No one spoke as they completed the journey, Dafydd driving at a steady ten miles an hour, his apprehension tangible as they rounded each bend.