Playing with the Grown-ups

by Sophie Dahl

  'Hello, Kit-kat,' he said when she and her mother walked into Da Mario's. Peter gave her mother a huge bear-like hug. She shook away like a dragonfly.

  They all sat down and her mother began to talk as though they weren't really there. Kitty studied her. She smoked and talked simultaneously, taking great, gasping breaths, shooing away the waiter who removed her untouched food with a mournful sigh. She asked Kitty to go and sit at the bar so she could have a 'grown-up talk with Peter'.

  Kitty rolled her eyes and Peter winked at her. She pretended to be deeply involved in Nancy Spungen but cast surreptitious glances their way. After a time they came over. She was drinking a cappuccino and pretending to be a beat poet. Peter kissed her goodbye. He smelled like cigarettes and Eau Sauvage. Kitty didn't want him to let go.

  'She'll be all right, Kit-kat,' he whispered in her ear.

  'I know,' she said. But she knew that this was a half-truth.

  Mr Fitzgerald's funeral was at the Catholic Church on Cheyne Walk. She and her mother waited till everyone had gone in. Kitty felt nervous.

  'Are we definitely invited?' she asked her mother anxiously.

  'People don't get invited to funerals. You can just go,' her mother said.

  Marina wore a black Chanel suit and her curly hair was fighting to get out of its ponytail. Kitty was wearing a navy-blue suit from Benetton and woolly tights that made her knees itch. Her hat had caused a fight. It was bottle-green felt and she thought elegant and befitting her own father's funeral.

  'No,' her mother said.

  'Why not?'

  'It's too sophisticated.' Her mother stubbed her cigarette out in her untouched porridge. 'Oh wear it. I don't care any more.'

  Mr Fitzgerald had a lot of friends. Perhaps they were business associates, colleagues. Kitty didn't know anyone who had the sort of job where you had colleagues. The word made her mother laugh, like 'partner'. They sat at the back.

  Her mother was composed until they took the coffin away. Then she made a noise like a kitten being strangled and gripped Kitty's arm so tightly with her nails that she thought she would be branded.

  Mrs Fitzgerald came out after the coffin. She was blonde and fat and if she was an animal she would have been Splendour the cat. Her hair looked hard, like it would crackle if you touched it.

  They waited for everyone to walk out. Kitty wondered who she was related to. Nobody really looked like her.

  They zigzagged round the people condoling with Mrs Fitzgerald and walked on to the street. A milkman wolf-whistled at her mother and Kitty scowled at him. Her mother lit a cigarette and crossed the street to look for a cab.

  Kitty felt a soft, doughy hand on her arm.

  'You look so familiar,' said Mrs Fitzgerald.

  'I don't think so. I don't think we've ever met,' Kitty stuttered.

  She looked for her mother on the other side of the street. She was not paying attention. It was like a scene from a film, Kitty thought. In the world there is just Mrs Fitzgerald and me.

  Mrs Fitzgerald was very tall. Bestepapa would have called her an AMAZON. Kitty could see up her nostrils. They were hairy. Kitty felt her lips curling upwards, and willed them down, into a comic twisted frown.

  'You have his smile,' Mrs Fitzgerald said.

  Kitty realised she knew, and her heart beat fast, with adrenalin and something like excitement.

  'Thank you,' Kitty said in a small voice.

  She wanted Mrs Fitzgerald to like her. She looked at her mother puffing across the street; she looked little and defenceless and Kitty felt disloyal. Mrs Fitzgerald and she observed each other for about forty-five seconds.

  'Actually I have my mother's smile,' Kitty said coldly and ran across the street. She took her mother by the arm. 'Mum, we'll find a taxi on the King's Road,' she said, and dragged her down Justice Walk.

  'What did she look like, Mrs Fitzgerald?' Rosaria said.

  She and Kitty were sitting at the Garage on the King's Road, sharing a hot chocolate. Marina had a headache and was lying in the darkened hotel room, napping.

  'I don't know, hard and untouchable, somehow,' Kitty said. 'Not like I imagined.'

  'Your father clearly had very diverse taste in women. Do you want to come and stay this weekend? Mummy said she'll call your mother. My brothers saw a picture of you from the yearbook you sent me, and suddenly they fancy you. It's really repulsive.'

  'I can't,' Kitty said. 'I've had a week off school. We have to fly back tomorrow; I'm going to have so much work. But I'll see you at Christmas.'

  Rosaria touched her arm and her eyes filled with tears.

  'I'm so sorry, Kit,' she said. 'It's not fair.'

  'Life's not fair,' Kitty said, and she laughed. 'Come on, let's go and buy something, my mother's given me fifty pounds. Do you want anything?'

  'We could share those silver hot pants,' Rosaria said thoughtfully. 'They could be transatlantic.'

  Chapter Five

  Noah Redner called her and asked if he could come over. She felt sick with excitement. Her mother was out, so she couldn't ask her what she should wear, but she knew she wouldn't mind if she borrowed something because it was a special occasion. Kitty put on her black leggings and a long pink striped cardigan of her mother's that came down to her knees. In her mother's bathroom she covered herself with scent, and she put blusher on the apples of her cheeks like her mother did.

  She asked Nora to get the door when it rang and Nora said, 'Why can't you get it yourself like a normal person?'

  'Because it's a DATE. Please? I'll give you anything you want.'

  'I don't want anything.'

  'But will you do it?'

  'Oh, all right, I suppose so. But you're not to go up to your bedroom, OK?'

  'I don't want to be in my bedroom, we'll be in the sitting room.'

  She put Carly Simon on the CD player, and decided 'Let the River Run', would be playing as he walked in the door. She reclined on the sofa, but decided that this was too casual, so she stood against the window with her back to the door, so that when he walked in she would look as though she was deep in thought.

  As she heard them coming up the stairs Kitty hit play. The music resounded throughout the sitting room. She concentrated on looking lost in thought.

  'Kitty!' Nora shouted. 'Your guest is here.'

  Kitty turned slowly and smiled beatifically at her.

  'Thank you so much, Nora. Hello, Noah.'

  She walked slowly over and kissed him on both cheeks.

  'What's up?' He looked uncomfortable.

  'Could you turn that music down and leave the door OPEN.' Nora gave her a look of warning.

  'Certainly.' Kitty smiled again.

  'Would you like a cup of tea, Noah?' she asked.

  'Can I have a Coke?'

  'Oh yes. Of course.'

  She ran into the kitchen.

  'How's it going?' Precious smiled.

  'Really well, I think.'

  'Who was that weird woman?' Noah said.

  'She's not weird, that's Nora, my brother and sister's nanny. What do you want to do?' They were sitting on the squashy sofa, two feet apart.

  'I don't know, what do you want to do?'

  'I don't know. We could play Scrabble?' Kitty put the cushions on her lap, like a barricade.

  He was silent.

  'Why don't we go up to your room and listen to some music?' He moved closer. 'I'd like to see your room.'

  She inched away.

  'No, let's stay here. It's better. I can change the music if you like.'

  'Yeah, this sucks. Do you have Guns N' Roses?'

  'No. I've got Stevie Wonder.'

  'That's really funny. Why don't you shut the door?'

  'I've got to go and get something from the kitchen. I'll be back in a minute.'

  'Precious, help! He keeps telling me to shut the door. . . don't tell Nora, what should I do?'

  'You want me to t'row him out?' Precious looked excited.

  'No! Just tell me what
to do!'

  'Aks him to go for a walk.'

  'All right, I'm going back in, wish me luck.'

  'Sorry about that. Noah, do you want to go for a walk? We could go and get coffee, I know a really good place on Lex.' She perched far away from him, on the edge of the sofa.

  'I'm kind of tired.' Noah Redner yawned expansively, and stretched out like a lion, till his fingers were resting on her thigh.

  She jumped up.

  'Come on, I really think you should see this place, it's really cool.' Her mother had taken her there one Saturday morning for breakfast, but she couldn't remember where it was.

  'Fine. Then can we go to your room?'

  'Yes.' By the time they came back her mother would be home and Kitty was sure she would know what to do.

  'Make him leave,' Kitty hissed to her mother as she made a pot of rose tea. 'You have to make him leave in a subtleway.'

  'Noah darling,' her mother said. 'I'm so sorry to drag you away, but Kitty's godmother Katie has flown in from London for a surprise and we have to go and meet her for a drink. I do hope you come again.'

  'But Mum, I'm busy!' Kitty said. 'That is so unfair. God!'

  Her mother was perfect. 'I'm sorry to put a spanner in the works, darling, but I promised we'd be there at five.'

  'Can I see your room next time?' Noah breathed in her ear on the way out.

  'That was so awful,' Kitty said to her mother. 'When we were on our own I realised I didn't like him at all.'

  'Sometimes it's much better in your head. You're very mature; maybe you'd like someone slightly older. Do you want to go and see a movie? My head hurts; I'd like the quiet of a cinema.'

  They saw Cyrano de Bergerac and sobbed throughout the film. Her mother cried so much at the end that Kitty thought she might explode.

  'Love should be like that. As real and strong as that,' Kitty said afterwards, blowing her nose, as they walked on to Lexington Avenue.

  'I completely agree, though without the unrequited bit,' her mother said, tears still pouring down her face.

  'I can't come for Christmas.' Rosaria's voice was strained, and she sounded like she had a cold.

  'Why? What's wrong?'

  'We have to sell the house. Daddy wants a last Christmas here, all of us together. He's lost all of his money, because of Lloyd's.'

  Kitty imagined a smart-suited banker throwing a safe stuffed with Mr Nivolla's money into the Thames.

  'Lloyds Bank?' she said.

  'No, Lloyd's of London. Please can we do it again though, maybe next year? I wanted to come and see everything you describe in your letters.'

  'The door is always open.' Kitty thought this sounded appropriately sober.

  'Luke Perry and Johnny Depp will just have to wait for us for one more year. The transatlantic hot pants send their love.'

  'Noah Redner said you gave him a blow job on Saturday,' Charlotte said flatly outside school on Monday morning.

  'No, I didn't! He came over and we went for a walk and then he went home. I don't even like him.'

  'Well, he said you did. And he said your house is really weird, and you were wearing weird clothes, and listening to weird music.'

  'I promise you that's not true. Do you believe me?' Kitty thought she might laugh, or cry, she couldn't tell which.

  'No, I don't. You can tell me, I won't tell anyone.' Charlotte looked bored. 'I won't think you're a slut or anything. I know you like him.'

  'I didn't. I swear. What shall I do?' Kitty took her hand.

  'I think we both know that you're lying.' Charlotte snatched away her hand. 'I have to go, Natalie's waiting for me. And by the way, you know that Monica's having a pool party? Well, we decided at Gwen's sleepover that you're so skinny you'd look like Nancy Reagan in a bathing suit. No offence.'

  * * *

  'Hey, Kitty!' Justin waved. 'Do you want to hang out this weekend? We could, you know, listen to MUSIC.'

  'No,' she croaked. 'I'm very busy. I have plans.'

  When she walked into homeroom everyone stopped talking, and stared through her, like she was made of paper.

  She went to see the school nurse.

  'Could I please call my mother? I feel like I'm going to faint.'

  The nurse was so kind it made Kitty cry.

  'Hush, hush,' she said, stroking her forehead. 'Didn't you just have a death in your family?'

  'My father died,' Kitty said.

  She couldn't be bothered to explain that she didn't know him. Mr Fitzgerald would have to be her excuse. Kitty was sure that, under the circumstances, he wouldn't mind, unless he was heartless.

  'Well, sweetie, you must be under a lot of stress. I'll call your mom now.'

  Kitty lay on the thin cot, with her eyes closed tightly, pretending to be a baby till her mother mercifully walked in the door, clucking concern, swaddling Kitty in her pale-pink shawl that smelled of love and home.

  Kitty knelt down at the altar she had made for Swami-j i.

  'I'll try not to think about boys,' she whispered. 'Because it just seems to get me in trouble, but if you could help me I would be very grateful.'

  His eyes shined from the photograph, full of compassion.

  'I'll be good from now on, and please bless everyone in this house, Mummy, Nora, Sam and Violet, OM, Amen.' She bowed her head.

  In the loo of the Three Guys Diner on Madison Avenue Kitty pulled down her knickers and her heart leapt. A red stripe, a definite red stripe: the heralding of womanhood.

  Her mother was drinking a banana milkshake outside. Since Mr Fitzgerald's funeral she had existed upon cigarettes and the occasional sweet thing, like treacle sponge or milkshakes.

  'Everything tastes bitter,' she explained. 'I just need sweet.'

  Kitty walked outside like she had a secret. They sat and drank their milkshakes, paid the bill and left.

  'I need to go to Clyde's,' Kitty said conversationally.

  'OK,' her mother said. 'How happy are you that you never need to see those dreadful people again?' It was the last day of school, before the summer began.

  'Happy,' Kitty said. 'I need to go to Clyde's though.'

  'You said that.'

  'I know but I really need to go to Clyde's, now, because I need to buy some sanitary towels.'

  'Oh my God! My baby! My baby's become a woman!'

  Her mother's eyes filled with tears.

  'Shhh. You're embarrassing me! You can't tell anyone, OK?'

  'No, I won't. I promise. Oh my Lord! This is a red-letter day - a literal red-letter day. We shall have to go out and celebrate. Tonight, where do you want to go?' She looked at Kitty as though she were different somehow.

  'Mum. Stop it. It's a perfectly normal occurrence.'

  'Now who do you want for your celebratory dinner? Anyone from school? Sorry, silly question. What about George? He'll be fun. He loves women, it comes from having so many sisters.'

  'Only if you do NOT tell him.'

  'I won't, I won't.'

  'Congratulations!' George stood on the doorstep and handed Kitty a bunch of peonies. 'I hear you became a woman today - that's very exciting.'

  'Not really,' she said, blushing, and decided to kill her mother later. 'You know . . .'

  'I don't really,' he said, leaning in to kiss her cheek. 'You look different. Grown-up.'

  She was wearing a dress from Betsey Johnson, which her mother had bought her specially, a dress that was pale yellow and filled with grace. It was the best dress she'd ever had.

  'No, I don't.' Kitty looked down at her feet.

  'You do, I swear it. The most beautiful you've ever looked. I'm a lucky man taking you and your momma out tonight.'

  Her mother had met another man, a man who lived in Canada, and she knew she was going to marry him. She told him, the night they met, an Indian fable about a pearl that held the world's light, and the next day she took Kitty around every antique shop in Manhattan to find a box, the sort of box that could house a pearl that belonged in an epic.

>   'I don't understand what you're doing,' Kitty said. She felt churlish and hot, and disloyal to George.

  'Stop whining. We're on a romantic quest. I'm going to send him a pearl. In a box. But I'm not just going to send it; no, that would be far too pedestrian. I'm going to dispatch Precious on a plane to Canada, and while he's out at lunch have her slip the box into his office, on to his desk, so when he comes back from his boring business lunch there will be the pearl, just sitting there, as though an enchantress stole through the window.' She looked distracted.

  'Hardly. Precious will be scuttling down his driveway. How do you know the timing will be right?'

  'Kitty, you're being really mean. Don't spoil my fun. Life has been so very un-fun since the love of my life died. Thank God I have God. Anyway, I thought you were Miss Romantic. You should find this exciting. Now do you have something like this but a bit smaller?' Marina asked the harassed-looking salesman.

  Precious and the pearl were dispatched to Canada, but the businessman did not respond as he was meant to. Kitty found her mother crying on the floor of the armoire in her bedroom.

  'What's the matter?' she said, climbing in next to her.

  'He didn't get it. He thought it was odd. That's what he said, that it was the oddest thing anyone's ever done, and then he got off the phone, and it's just so unfair because I thought I was going to marry him, and we could all live in Canada and eat maple syrup.' Her mother threw a shoe against the wall.

  'Well,' Kitty said. 'If he thought it was odd then clearly he's not the man for you. It was the most romantic thing in the world, and if he can't appreciate that then he's a boring old sod and he's not fit to lick your boots. Not that you wear boots.'

  'Do you really think that?'

  'Yes, I do. I can tell you that we most certainly don't want to live in Canada either. It would be really boring. Lose his number.' Kitty put her arm around her mother's thin shoulders in the dark.

  After about five minutes Marina said in a small voice, 'You're absolutely right. I'd hate Canada. All those trees and lakes. I don't know what I was thinking. I wish I'd never sent him that pearl. I want it back.'