The Great Christmas Breakup

by Fonteroy, Geraldine

  ‘I think my scheme is going to look amazing,’ I told Robert, after we’d met for yet another chaste lunch. ‘All I need are a few final touches, which I think I might get at some place in Queens, and we’re done.’

  Instead of replying, Robert leaned down and kissed me.

  It was in front of the window of Store Two, near 49th Street.

  There was no warning; he just grabbed my face, and stuck his tongue in my mouth.

  I’d like to say that it was pleasant, and that it gave me options for a better life, but it wasn’t and it didn’t.

  It was completely sleazy and entirely weird.

  ‘What are you doing?’ I pushed him away.

  ‘I thought we’d discussed this?’ He seemed confused.

  ‘Did we? When?’ My voice was even – I hoped to be able to do more windows for friends of Robert Simpson. Lolly said he’d told her there was the possibility of more work if I did a good job.

  This situation had to be managed carefully. Mum was still completely distressed about Dad, and despite denying it, I knew she was waiting for me to say I was boarding a plane. Carson still had no idea Flindes had sacked me – the money I’d had from Robert so far was helping make ends meet.

  I had to tread carefully.

  Trying to regain his composure at being rejected, Robert went red. A deep, unattractive purple color that caused me to take a couple of steps back.

  ‘I hope you understand, Robert. I am married.’

  ‘So what? You gave the impression of being up for it.’

  Up for it?

  But if I’d thought the worst was over, I was a fool. Robert seemed to be having some sort of mild breakdown.

  He grabbed me and pulled my hair back so that his mouth was up against my ear.

  ‘I had you prepped for a threesome with a minxy little tranny I know, and some light bondage. Why do you think I sought you out? Bet you’d like to feel my hand on your chubby ass, hah?’

  Oh god, he was one of those. The freaks you hear about when your friends go online dating.

  The ones that drag you into the boot of their car and chop you up into a million tiny pieces if you don’t comply.

  Or even if you do comply.

  ‘Look, Robert. The windows will be finished in a few days. Let’s just keep it professional, shall we?’

  Scarily, he didn’t say a word. Instead, he walk into Chocolato.

  He wouldn’t tell his friend not to pay me, would he?

  No, that would be completely unprofessional. The owner of Chocolato, whoever he was, would discover what a creep his banker was if he did that.

  Not even a sexual miscreant like Robert would be mad enough to lose a client over sex, would he?

  *

  Capping off the day in inimitable style, Hammertro and Cecily 2 were going at it against the wall in the living room when I walked in at seven. It was like watching someone drilling a nail with a misfiring drill.

  A drill of extremely low voltage.

  ‘What the hell is going on?’

  Hammertro’s fairish afro was squashed to one side. ‘Oh, hey Mrs T. Sorry about this, you see . . .’

  I really didn’t want to see.

  I opened my mouth to tell them to pack it in but Cecily 2 had locked back onto Hammertro’s lips and was encouraging him to continue.

  ‘Cecily 2! This is my home! Stop it right now!’

  ‘I wouldn’t boast about this place, honey,’ she said, her voice loud despite being covered by her lover’s mouth.

  Wondering whether I could mount a defence of familial aggravation if I murdered them both, I was about to get some ice-cold water from the fridge to kill off Hammertro’s enthusiasm, when someone called my name.

  ‘What?’

  ‘Mum?’

  Jessie.

  I backed out into the hall. Surely Jessie and J hadn’t seen the porno spectacle. But our flat was tiny, how could they not have seen it?

  I was going to kill Carson. It was his sister, and his problem. He should be here, dealing with it.

  My daughter was standing by the door to her bedroom.

  ‘I said it’s Grandma,’ Jessie held out the phone.

  Looking back through the living room door, I stared fiercely at Hammertro and Cecily 2, who still hadn’t bothered covering up.

  ‘Tell her I will call her back.’

  If she hadn’t already, I didn’t want my daughter coming in and seeing the revolting sight – it would permanently scar her.

  Just like it had me.

  Jessie could be heard relaying my message, then she called out again, ‘She can’t call back, she’s not at home.’

  Oh no. Now something’s happened to Mum!

  ‘What? Where is she?’ Thoughts of hospitals and death and accidents flooded my brain.

  I heard Jessie ask.

  ‘At the international shipping terminal. Here. In New York. She came on the Queen Mary 2. A surprise!’

  Despite my daughter’s obvious excitement at seeing a grandmother she’d only ever met on Skype, I felt ill.

  How much more I could take before I had a complete breakdown?

  ‘She wants to be picked up,’ Jessie called. ‘Said she can’t wait for a ride in your new BMW.’

  Hammertro came into the hall, pulling up his trousers. ‘That old bomb downstairs ain’t no BMW.’

  ‘Tell Gran to hang on a minute,’ I told Jessie.

  Turning to my neighbor, I pointed at the door. Then I informed Cecily 2 that she had to leave, immediately.

  ‘What? But I’ve still got another week of work. You promised.’

  That was it! How dare she railroad me into putting up with her foul antics so that she could save on a hotel.

  ‘No, I didn’t. You invited yourself. You’ve been here long enough. Now gather your things and leave.’

  ‘Mom is gonna be mad,’ she yelled.

  ‘Ooh seeexy,’ Hammertro’s silver tongue murmured, as his hand inched towards Cecily 2’s nether regions.

  ‘Hammertro, I am terribly sorry, but I have children in the house. You need to leave right now. Perhaps Cecily 2 could stay at yours?’

  He shot towards the door at that suggestion, suddenly eager to leave. ‘What? No, I got no room!’

  Cecily 2’s evil glare turned on him. ‘You said you loved me. You can’t even find space in your flat for me for one short week?’

  Caught out, Hammertro did what any young man in his position would do.

  He ran.

  ‘Hamma-to,’ Cecily 2 cried, running after him.

  I quickly ran over and closed the front door. Good riddance.

  ‘Mum, are you going to pick Grandma up or not?’ Jessie called.

  I waited a moment, but no.

  No conveniently timed nervous breakdown.

  ‘Ask her to take a town car. I’ll pay for it.’

  The town car was going to cost a week’s worth of groceries.

  I hoped Mum wouldn’t mind canned beans every night of her stay.

  Which is when it hit me.

  How long did she plan to stay?

  And how was I going to explain all the lies I told her?

  Fourteen years’ worth of them.

  *

  As I raced about, trying to tidy up our hovel as best as I could before Mum arrived, my phone indicated I had a text. Robert.

  The job is off. You can keep the deposit.

  Bastard! After all the work I’d done. Well he wasn’t going to get away with it. Pressing keys frantically, I let him have it.

  I’ll just ask the owner of Chocolato for the money. All the managers can vouch for the work I’ve done.

  There was no reply. Quickly, frantically, I dialed up the downtown Chocolato and asked to speak to the owner.

  ‘Oh, it that Scarlet?’ The snooty pencil-like manager from Shop One sounded pleasant enough. ‘We can’t wait for you to put the finishing touches on the windows – have you got everything you need now?’

  ‘Actually,
I need a contact number for the owner. Financial stuff.’

  ‘But you must have his number?’ The man sounded confused.

  ‘Must I? Why?’

  ‘Because you’re always having lunch with Mr Simpson. I figured you and he are friends.’

  ‘Mr Simpson owns Chocolato?’ The horrible truth of what Robert had been up to was now apparent.

  ‘Yes. Of course, now, if there is nothing else . . .’

  Saying thanks I hung up.

  The job was over.

  And I had nothing to show for it.

  I’d given up my job at Flindes.

  I’d spent most of the thousand dollar advance on materials.

  And my mother was about to arrive and discover that her daughter was a pathological liar.

  Joy.

  *

  Mum trudged up the stairs behind me. ‘This isn’t what I imagined, Scarlet. Where is the porter you told me about?’

  I hated the sound of disappointment in her voice.

  ‘We, um, moved. It’s a marvelous investment Mum. Brooklyn prices are rising – and we are only moments from Manhattan.’

  Then Hammertro started up his latest composition: My girl likes it doggie style, and Mum shook her head. ‘A bit hard to believe, dear. Isn’t America funny?’

  She didn’t know the half of it!

  Inside the apartment, we were greeted by the loud guffaws of Cecily 2.

  She was back.

  Why, God? Why?

  Jessie and J had done their best to tidy up too, but evicting Cecily 2 was beyond their capabilities, and their aunt stood in her faux leather micro mini, arms crossed, in the centre of the living room, ready to continue to fight me for her accommodation.

  I noticed she had her fists clenched, she was actually planning to fight me.

  What a welcome for Mum.

  After giving both the kids a huge hug, passing over numerous gifts and declaring them to be the most beautiful grandchildren on earth, Mum turned to Cecily 2, who hadn’t budged. ‘Oh, who is this, then?’ Mum looked a little frightened. ‘Your cleaner?’

  ‘I ain’t no fuckin’ cleana,’ Cecily 2 yelled, unclenching her fist to wave her arm around in front of her, talk show style. ‘Who the fuck are you?’

  ‘Yeah, you dirty baby,’ Hammertro offered illogically, appearing at the door.

  Now Mum looked a lot frightened.

  ‘I thought you’d shot through,’ I said to him.

  My neighbor shrugged. ‘Can’t keep away from my Ce-ce.’ His eyes were shifty again – he’d obviously had a lot to do with Cecily 2’s renewed presence in my home.

  ‘Oh, is this your husband, dear?’ Mum asked Cecily 2.

  ‘No,’ everyone in the room said, in unison.

  Jessie took Mum by the arm and led her towards their bedrooms. ‘Let’s show you all our stuff, Gran,’ Jessie said.

  The girl was a saint.

  Mum complied quickly. The pounding guilt I felt as she considered the scene questioningly was too much to bear.

  Mum hadn’t even discovered I was a college dropout with no degree and no proper job and no talent.

  To say nothing of the fact that Carson was not a lawyer but a teacher.

  The door closed on my mother and children.

  Right.

  ‘Get out,’ I said to Cecily 2, the moment we had the living room to ourselves again.

  Cecily 2 wasn’t having it. ‘You listen to me, you–‘

  But I wasn’t having any it either. ‘No, this time you listen to me. Although you are a sub-human excuse for a mother and a wife, you cannot deny you have responsibilities. If you don’t go home immediately, I will tell Rufus and Cecily exactly what you’ve been up to with Hammertro.’

  Cecily 2’s snake-like eyes narrowed. ‘You can’t prove anything.’

  ‘Haven’t you heard of mobile phone cameras? They even take video!’ It was a complete lie – as if I would engage in the sick-making activity of filming my sister-in-law and my neighbor copulating.

  ‘You, no, you . . .’ Cecily tried but couldn’t get her tongue around a comeback that would give her leverage to stay put. ‘Fine, but this ends our sister relationship, bitch.’

  ‘We never had one, Cecily 2.’

  ‘Maybe you’d better relax the situation a little, hot momma,’ Hammertro told her. ‘After all, you got nothin’ to stay here for. You got fired from that job anyway, didn’t you?’

  ‘What!’

  I honestly felt that my life had to be the brunt of someone’s bad joke.

  ‘I didn’t get fired.’

  Hammertro grinned like a loony.

  ‘Did you?’ I asked Cecily 2.

  ‘Not immediately,’ Cecily 2 yelled defensively.

  ‘When, exactly?’

  ‘On the second day. They said I was too violent. Whadda they want? A flaccid dominatrix?’

  ‘You’ve been living off us for weeks!’

  ‘So?’

  ‘Maybe they didn’t want you to beat people up?’ Hammertro suggested, enjoying the brouhaha.

  ‘They should’ve said. Didn’t even want to pay me ‘cause of the hospital bills.’

  Hospital bills? Don’t even think about asking what they were for.

  ‘So why did they?’

  ‘I threatened to tell their landlord what they were up to in the basement.’

  What a piece of work Carson’s sister was.

  Hammertro nodded appreciatively. ‘That’s my girl.’

  Knowing that I’d put up with Cecily 2 for far longer than I had needed to made my head want to explode.

  I held the door open and indicated the stairway with my hand.

  Cecily 2 shuffled a couple of feet forward, then stopped again.

  ‘Can I am least take my stuff? If I leave anything here, you’ll probably sell it on eBay to pay for your porn-flakes.’

  I nearly said they weren’t called porn-flakes, but then saw the looks Hammetro and Cecily 2 were giving each other and decided to leave that topic well alone.

  ‘Fine, just pack your gear as fast as possible.’

  Having been given a slight reprieve, Cecily 2 pushed it by making a new demand. ‘First I want to speak to Carson.’

  ‘Tough.’

  Carson is probably busy shagging his old girlfriend.

  The clock on the wall said 6 p.m. School finished at four. Where was he?

  In the end, I packed. It took all of three minutes – Cecily 2’s clothes were all made of stretchy nylon or lycra or plastic and didn’t require folding.

  ‘Mom will get you for this,’ she informed me, as she walked out, dragging her small battered knock-off Vuitton case behind her. ‘You owe us for that couch fiasco.’

  Tough.

  Hammertro smiled a sorry little smile, until he noticed that Cecily 2 was going up the stairs, not down them.

  ‘Babe, wait, you want me to call you a cab? Sexy momma? Ce-ce?’

  Cecily 2 kept walking upwards.

  Serves him right.

  ‘Bye Cecily 2,’ I said, closing the door on the expletive she spat in response.

  Cecily 2 was Hammertro’s problem now. I had other issues to deal with.

  Including, but not limited to, the fact that Mum was about to learn the extent of my failure.

  To say nothing of Carson discovering that I’d lost my job and thanks to shifty Robert Simpson there was no money to make up the shortfall.

  All things considered, moving upstairs with Hammertro and Cecily 2 almost seemed like a better alternative.

  CHAPTER TEN

  Thursday, December 23

  ‘Our family makes us who we are,

  acknowledge your part in its development.’

  Jocelyn Priestly.

  SOD OFF, JOCELYN. Flipping the calendar over, the only thing I was willing to acknowledge was that I needed to speak to Robert about the windows. Deciding that I would complete the job anyway – I had bought all the stuff and paid Uncle Rabbit for his work, so I might as well d
o the install.

  Besides, I guessed that legally, once the windows were completed and photographed, I could at least claim the full amount Robert owed me.

  I could ask Carson about my implied contract with Chocolato if we were talking, but having learned his mother-in-law had arrived and his sister had been evicted, he was refusing to speak to me about anything.

  Mum happily accompanied me to the shops while I worked, but she was so excited about being in New York for the first time that I was distracted at every turn.

  After we’d made the requisite visits to the Empire State, Saks, Bloomingdales and a couple of other tourist traps uptown, I managed to lure her in the direction of the shops and my work.

  However, when Robert got wind of my continued labor in his establishments, he called and said he wanted to meet and talk things over.

  ‘The only thing I want to talk about is getting paid.’

  ‘Then meet me, and we can work it out.’

  I had thought he might stop me completing the windows by telling me I was trespassing, but I supposed he figured that if he couldn’t have me in a comprising sexual position, he might get some nice store windows for free.

  ‘Why didn’t you tell me you owned Chocolato?’ I asked, nodding to Mum who was excitedly pointing at the horse and carriage trotting past.

  ‘I didn’t want you to know that I was attracted to you.’

  Bollocks. He was attracted to the idea of a threesome with a loser housewife who he figured was bored and desperate. I didn’t press the issue.

  ‘Look,’ I said, ‘let me finish the job, then pay me. Everyone ends up happy that way.’

  ‘Alright. Meet me in an hour at Starbucks, opposite the midtown store.’

  ‘No, first we meet in front of Chocolato. I want to show you what I’ve done.’

  I wasn’t going to have him pester me or stop me from finishing my work, now. At the very least, I wanted a snapshot of the shop windows before he tore the whole lot out again.

  I didn’t trust Robert Simpson. Perhaps I never had. Perhaps, deep down, that’s why I chose to continue dating Carson instead of taking a chance on the dapper, wealthier Robert?