Cross Check: The second Posh Hits story

by Caron Allan

  Popped in to see Madison after the Doc’s. She seems all right, a bit subdued perhaps. She brightened at the idea of a nice lunch somewhere, I suggested next week but need to confirm with her, just in case I’ve already booked something.

  On the way home, I ran my little idea past He-Who-Must-Be-Obeyed. He is not a fan of my plan. I tried to talk him round. By the time we got back to the house he was so pissed off with me he said he’d think about it. Yay!

  Long cuddles and catch up session with Billy over the new edition of Vogue. She’s such a little poppet. I don’t know which of us was the most excited. So far she mainly wears little jeans and dungarees but am thinking of buying her a posh little frock, nothing too ridiculous because obviously she’s a little girl and needs to be able to fling herself about with complete abandon the way little people do, so she won’t want yards of lace tangled round her trainers but, if we go out anywhere, it would be nice if she has a pretty little frock to pop on. And she’s not the kind of child that gets dirty, unlike Paddy who is obviously destined to be a rugby player, he’s always covered in mud. A bit like his father.

  So yes, Billy, Tetley, me and a pot of tea and a plastic Peppa Pig mug of milk, half a dozen chocolate fingers and – Vogue. Bliss. We were in that garden-room for the best part of an hour before She-Who-Shall-Not-Be-Named came in and spoiled it. Why Matt’s sister isn’t laid back and nice like he is I fail to understand. To be honest she is a cow. And she looks like one too. She speaks to the children in very loud, bossy tones and frightens them. She has children of her own, I don’t understand why she doesn’t know how to talk to them. Surely she should be going home to her own husband slash children? Don’t they miss her? Asked her outright.

  “Aren’t your children and husband missing you, Leanne?” She rolled her eyes. Anyone would think she was a teenager let alone in her early forties. She flomped into the garden chair next to mine, sending it shooting back about six inches with a protesting creak and scaring the cat, who ran outside.

  “God!” She said. “Don’t talk to me about that bastard!”

  She didn’t seem to notice me placing my hands over Billy’s ears. Not at all suitable language in front of a small person. I said nothing. Sounded like she might tell me something if I kept quiet. I was right.

  “I doubt if he’s even noticed I’ve gone yet.” I raised my eyebrows in delicate inquiry. She continued. “Twenty-three years we’ve been married and that’s all the thanks I get!” I still didn’t know what she was talking about. Billy was tugging on my sleeve, trying to draw my attention to an article on accessories, but as soon as we made a start Leanne chipped in again with, “he wins a fortune on the lottery and gives most of it to his younger brother’s girlfriend so she can buy a new car. And what does he get me? A matching toaster and kettle! A bleedin’ toaster and kettle!”

  I tsked in my most sympathetic way and silently indicated a new range of bracelets and rings to Billy who began to pore over the pictures with the devotion of a monk illuminating the Book of Kells.

  “You’ll see!” Leanne ranted loudly in my direction, leaping to her feet, “it’ll come to you too given time. Oh, you think it’s all hearts and flowers now, but that’s just the honeymoon phrase, wait till he starts buying you toasters, see how you like it!” She stormed off, obviously sensing a certain lack of interest on the part of her audience. To be fair I had only hesitated as I pondered the advisability of correcting her use of the word ‘phrase’.

  “Gwumpy cow!” Said Billy. She really is becoming very vocal now that her confidence is growing. Trying not to smile I told her we don’t call ladies cows, it’s rude. Then we got back to the important stuff.

  Same day – 1.20am

  Once the children were tucked up in bed and dinner was out of the way, I left Leanne and Lill to do the dishes and I popped upstairs to change. I didn’t want to be around Leanne any more than I could help and I’d asked Matt to ask Lill to tell her to go home, so hopefully that is what will happen. Though if she is still here when my baby is born, that will not surprise me in the least. What about her children, that’s what I keep thinking. Apparently they are all in their teens, so that probably explains her relief at being away for a little while. But even so, I can’t really understand the situation. She really doesn’t seem to love her family at all.

  Matt came up a couple of minutes behind me and tried to talk me out of my big plan. But I had made up my mind and was absolutely not interested in listening to reason. Though was a bit surprised he backed down. Clearly he sensed I was determined.

  So, off with the lovely linen blouse and silk trousers I bought in Cannes, and on with the black slacks and warm jumper, the trainers on over the socks I borrowed from Matt’s drawer, unbeknown to him of course. What’s the point of a husband if you can’t nick his comfy stuff now and again? I tied back my hair into a council-estate ponytail, and slapped on a little more moisturiser. There, ready!

  The sun was still just about hanging up there as we drove through the village and headed for the motorway. I do so love the long summer evenings, even though the shorter days are already with us. There is nothing worse than a winter’s afternoon when it is dark at four o’clock. Dreary days always make me tired and depressed. Perhaps I have that syndrome?

  Matt was driving, and we chatted a little to begin with, though that was mainly me moaning about his sister. He said he thought his parents had managed to work on her sense of duty and that she would probably be returning home in a day or two.

  “It’s just that they haven’t got much,” he said, “and we – or rather you, have such a nice house and everything in it is just perfect, luxurious even. I think it’s been a bit of an eye-opener for her, seeing how the other half live.”

  I didn’t know what to say. I had noticed this myself over the last couple of days. I could almost see her point of view. I mean, we all know it’s the people in our lives that matter the most, but when you’re living in a hovel with a chap who thinks that what really sets your pulses racing is a matching toaster and kettle combo, well, that’s bound to make you feel a bit down.

  Then I said, “it isn’t just my house, it’s yours too. And your parents’.” He smiled at me, and covered my hand with his. I added, “is there anything I can do for your sister?”

  He shook his head.

  “No. It’s up to her and her husband to make the best of what they have. Apart from their mortgage, they haven’t got any real debts. They’re not in difficulties, she just wants more. I’ve given her some money.” He added. I nodded, and we lapsed into silence. Thomas Sidney was fidgeting about, my stomach moving in odd lumps and bumps, but physically I was feeling fine now.

  It was almost dark by the time we halted the car across and down the road a little bit from the house. I got out my camera and it was then simply a question of waiting. After two hours we had a couple of good, clear shots, and I could only hope they would be enough.

  I dozed in the car on the way back.

  Once home, Matt made me cocoa and I sat up in bed, snuggled and cosy, and sipped it. He did the rounds of the security system, just to be doubly sure. I feel a bit drowsy now so will finish there for tonight.

  Monday 1 September – 9.45pm

  This afternoon, I drove to Nadina’s apartment alone. Obviously Jeremy was at work, because unlike her, he doesn’t have the whole of the school summer holidays to sit on his bum and think up ways to upset people.

  She looked a bit surprised, worried even, when she opened her door and saw me standing there. But she recovered well enough to stretch a smile across her face and fling her arms round me. She kissed the air on both sides of my face and any onlooker would have been taken in by the cordiality of our meeting.

  But I was no onlooker, I was deeply embroiled in this whole filthy mess, and not one glance or breath from her could deceive me. However I can act with the best of them. So I smiled and complimented her on how well she was looking and said nice things about her stringy, mousy hair
.

  Then, as she still hesitated in the doorway, I said, “oh Darling, could I possibly just pop to the little girl’s room, it’s such a long drive. And you know – my hormones!”

  So of course she had to invite me in. Well, I hadn’t come all this way to stand on her bloody door-step. So I popped to the loo and actually was glad of the trip. And once I had washed my hands I flushed the loo and under the cover of the noise, I had a quick prowl through the cabinet. A pregnancy test! And Viagra! Well, well. Took a quick pic with my phone.

  Once back in the poky little kitchen that was all these types of property in this part of Town afforded, Nadina reluctantly made me a cup of tea and gave every subtle indication of a martyr enduring terrible torture. She put a brave little smile on her face and said what a surprise it was to see me, and so unexpected. How quickly we were back from our honeymoon, too! Had we received their card, by the way?

  I said I had, and thanked her for it, remarking what a Darling Card it had been, and how thoughtful of them it had been to remember us on our special day. I crossed the room to stand looking out of the window into the street below. The sun slanted down on the street at an odd angle, and the building across the road was of a very dark brick. So I had a wonderful view of Nadina reflected in the window. It was useful to watch her face. Her nose and chin seemed extra pointy and her hair long and straight and a bit thin-looking, like a witch’s. From this angle she even seemed to have a slight stoop in her back, adding to that impression.

  She said, “it must have been a comfort to you to know that Thomas was looking down on you from somewhere up there, as you made your vows to Matthew.” And she gave me another of her little smiles.

  Bitch, I thought. Bringing my poor dead husband into this.

  So I nodded and said in an earnest voice, “oh it was. It meant so much. We were married in the chapel where his memorial was held. It seemed somehow fitting.”

  She seemed a bit surprised by my witty retort but hid it well. She picked up the mugs of tea and brought them over to the sofa, leaving me no real choice but to abandon my vantage point and join her.

  “Was it six months ago that Dear Thomas died?” She asked sweetly. She proffered a plate of biscuits, which I declined though my stomach grumbled about it.

  “No, no twelve.” I said. “yes, it was almost a year to the day that I remarried.”

  “Still,” she said, taking a sip of tea and setting down her mug on a dainty hand-painted coaster, “there’s no need to be in mourning too long, is there? One must get on with one’s life. Though I must say, I was a teeny bit surprised to hear just how quickly you met your new chappie and got pregnant. Was Mark a friend of yours and Thomas’s?”

  “You mean Matt. No, he was a complete stranger.” I said airily. I could not let her get the upper hand here. She was out to try to get under my skin. “But when something is right, one instinctively knows. No need to wait to get married, not when one is really sure about the person one is involved with.” I picked up my mug and peered at her over its rim. It seemed the china was once again destined to be used strategically, almost like chess pieces. I could see the cogs in her brain were trying frantically to think of something else to say, but I got in first. “I’m so glad to hear that you and Jeremy are giving it another try. It is all too easy to give up on a relationship when nothing seems to be moving forward. But it’s nice to know that Jeremy took Thomas’s advice to have another bash at it. And you never know, he could still propose, you can’t just assume that he is still searching for that special someone. He’ll most likely stay with you now, change gets so much harder as you get older, don’t you think?”

  That hit her. She recoiled, blinking and I could see moisture glistening in her eyes, and I almost felt bad. But then I remembered the photos of me talking to Thomas and of Paddy coming out of pre-schoolers proudly holding his painting that is now on our fridge. And the phone calls, the way she had rung to tell me Monica was dead, that ridiculous memorial. Not to mention Monica’s so-called bequest to me. That underlined Nadina’s guilt. No, she had brought this on herself. She deserved this, I reminded myself. But I decided to move it along quickly and wrap things up, no need to drag things out unnecessarily. I reached into my bag and pulled out the envelope. It was the same one that had been delivered to the house whilst Matt and I were away.

  “Sorry, Darling,” I said flapping excited girly hands at her, “I almost forgot the whole point of the visit. Funnily enough, Monica left this with me right before she died. She asked me to give it to you if anything should ever happen to her. She said you’d know what it meant.” I placed the envelope in front of her on the coffee table. She stared at it, not moving, hardly breathing. Her eyes were fixed on the brown paper of the envelope and were fixed, dilated. The room was silent except for the soft, distant hum of her dishwasher.

  “I must confess,” I said suddenly.

  She snapped out of it, saying sharply, “what?”

  She was really rattled. I smiled at her as if there was nothing in the world on my mind at that moment.

  “I said, I must confess, I’ve been really tempted to open it – I’m just dying to know what’s inside. I know – I know!” Holding my hand up as if to halt some imagined rebuke from Nadina. “I know it’s none of my business! But really, Darling, it’s almost as if Monica is reaching out to touch you from beyond the grave. How exciting!”

  She reached out a shaking hand to take up the envelope. She moved slowly, as if she did it unwillingly. She looked at the envelope for a moment and then turned it over to rip open the flap. The photos fell out face up into her lap and she screamed, and screamed, and screamed.

  Shocked, I was on my feet and reaching out to her before I knew what I was doing but she slapped my hand away and was cowering behind the sofa, gripping its back and yelling, “get out, get out, get out of my house! Get out! Now!” I tried to protest but she simply pointed at the door with a violently shaking hand and, almost purple in the face, continued to screech with a cracked, hoarse voice, “get out! Get out! Get out! Get out!”

  So I got out.

  I must admit, once the adrenalin had calmed down, once I was in the car with the engine running and pulling out of her road, I began to feel happy. Very happy.

  A great sense of satisfaction fell about my shoulders. It was a lovely afternoon. The traffic, even though this was London, wasn’t too bad. I put on the radio and some modern American crooner was singing an average version of “Moon River.” It seemed just right.

  A soft breeze stirred my hair as I drove towards home and my family. I had showed Nadina and Monica. Now they would know not to threaten me or those I love. Now I could go home and set about the serious business of having my baby. I could decorate the nursery, I could meet my friend at the pub and drink hot chocolate. I could read Vogue with my adopted daughter, and play ‘cricket’ with my adopted son, and sit in the kitchen with my mother-in-law and drink tea and talk about baby clothes. Or cats. Lill would love to talk a bit more about cats. I wondered what the cats had been doing lately.

  Tuesday 2 September – 5.50pm

  Tell me again why I thought for even a second this was going to work?

  Ooh quick, loo!

  That’s better. This baby of mine – ours – obviously thinks my bladder is just some comfy cushion to bounce up and down on.

  So. Nadina. And now Jeremy, wading into the mire like an old-fashioned knight riding to the rescue. “My partner says you’ve been harassing her. I’d like it to stop forthwith. I don’t expect to have to speak to you regarding this matter again.” And then he put the phone down before I’d had time to draw breath. Certainly there was no time for him to consider whether I might have my own case to put to the Supreme Court of Jeremy. Forthwith, my arse!

  And I stood there like an idiot, blushing like a five year old told off for pulling hair or making faces.

  Can’t believe she told on me to Jeremy. That’s rather below the belt. I thought we were keeping thi
s just between us girls. But, clearly they are trying to find a way of keeping me out of their collective hair even if it means things getting nasty. I wonder if she has told Jeremy everything now, or whether he already knew, or if he doesn’t know anything, but has just been taken in by some tale she has told him? In any case, this latest makes me think Nadina thinks I have a point and she is afraid of me, and hopes that big bad Jeremy will scare me off. Maybe she is afraid of what I might do.

  So now I’m asking myself the same question. What shall I do?

  Wednesday 3 September – 10.20am

  Have been mulling things over since yesterday and still feel uncertain and dissatisfied. And I’m really weary. I mean, it’s been an incredibly hectic few months, so many mad things have happened and there’s the pregnancy too. I’m absolutely shattered, actually, and then there was the emotional toll of the wedding and the aborted honeymoon.

  So I was wondering about a few days away but, stupidly, I had completely forgotten that Paddy is starting school next Tuesday, so that is completely out of the question now. In fact this would have been the perfect time to pop off to Chapley’s for a few days R & R, but no, I can’t do that, I have to be here to see Paddy off on his first day, and obviously to welcome him home again at lunchtime.

  We are going to become one of those families who have to save all their fun up for the school holidays now, I just know it.

  At least I still have my Tuesday and Thursday ‘booze-ups’ with Henrietta, so that’s something to look forward to. Got a trip to the doctor’s again this week too, more peeing in a teeny pot and checking of blood pressure (not from the pee, obviously!).

  You know I think Tetley knows I’m having kittens, she keeps snuggling up to me just lately, and is all soppy and keeps stamping on my little baby-belly. Lill is definitely jealous of all the attention I’m now getting from her favourite cat.