by Lacey London
‘Friday!’ She suddenly exclaims, hitting herself on the head playfully. ‘Of course! I can’t wait!’
I look up at the sky and sigh as Janie lets out a wolf whistle at a passing builder. Shoving her hands into her pockets, Dawn gives me a subtle wink before disappearing into the crowd of people. Right now, Friday can’t come fast enough…
If flowers were a day of the week, they would most definitely be Friday…
Chapter 2
‘What’s happening Friday?’ Janie asks, quickening her pace and trying to keep up with me.
Sh… sugar! My brain goes into panic mode as I try and fail to come up with something that she won’t possibly want an invite to. A museum tour? A children’s party? Think, Clara! Think! In the end I decide to tell the truth, well almost.
‘We… are… going to a book club.’ I offer her a thin smile and dodge a busker who is singing a rather good rendition of Valerie. ‘This week it’s vintage classics. We’re reading Of Mice and Men, do you want to join us?’
‘Mice and men?’ She curls her lip into a sneer and frowns. ‘Let me get this right, you’re seriously asking me if I wanna spend my Friday night reading about mice?’ Janie looks at me as though I have lost my mind and continues to clack her way along the street. ‘I think I’ll pass.’
Swallowing the laugh that is bubbling in my throat, I push my way into a pizzeria and motion for Janie to follow me.
‘Clara!’ The friendly server raises his hand in acknowledgment and grins widely. ‘This must be the third time this week! We just can’t get rid of you!’
He laughs heartily and I feel my cheeks colour up. Well, this is kind of embarrassing. Other customers turn to look at me and I attempt to hide behind my handbag. I think when the local fast food joint starts knowing your name, it’s time to throw out the takeout menus.
‘Hi…’ I squint my eyes in a bid to jog my memory. What the hell is his name?
‘Antonio.’ He mumbles, literally reading my mind.
‘Antonio!’ I confirm confidently, as though I had known this piece of information all along. ‘Of course! How are you?’
‘I am very well.’ His smile falters a little and I suddenly feel bad for forgetting his name. ‘Do you want your usual?’
I nod in response, not wanting to acknowledge that I have a usual out loud. In case you’re wondering, my usual consists of two large pizzas, a couple of cheesy fries and a token side salad. I don’t really know why I bother with the salad. It never gets eaten and we always end up throwing it away a couple of days later. I guess it just makes me feel a little less guilty about the appalling amount of saturated fat I am about to consume. It probably sounds terrible, feeding my hubby and child a plateful of carbs and trans fats, but when I’ve been working all day, I would rather chop off my eyelashes than fire up the oven.
Handing over some notes, I take a seat in a plastic chair and try to calm my growling stomach. Between arranging the morning delivery and attempting to keep up with the afternoon rush, the most I’ve managed to eat is a very questionable Pot Noodle. During my time on this planet I’ve had many, many jobs, but being on my feet all day in Floral Fizz has to be the most demanding by far. My mind flits back to the days where I could spend a couple of hours enjoying a leisurely lunch in my role as a stay at home mum and I feel a pang of longing. Who would have thought that working with a load of pansies (pardon the pun) could be so physically draining?
Looking up from my seat, I let out a groan as I spot Janie flirting outrageously with the delivery man. Twirling a strand of parched blonde hair around her fingers, she seems totally oblivious to the fact that she’s making a complete fool of herself. Unfortunately, the delivery driver doesn’t seem to agree with me and is lapping up her every word like a thirsty puppy desperate for water. Practically drooling down his shirt, he bites his lip as Janie lets out a laugh which sets her inflated chest off jiggling. Oh, please! Shaking my head, I stand to my feet as Antonio places my order on the counter.
‘Clara, you’re ready to go.’ Banging his hand on the pizza box, he adjusts his cap and passes me a receipt.
‘Thank you so much!’ I gush, struggling to balance the giant boxes.
‘No problema!’ He tosses a few dips into the plastic bag. ‘See you next week!’
I smile thinly and grab Janie by the arm. Not wanting to leave her admirer so soon, she huffs and puffs for a while before scribbling down her phone number and following me outside.
As we march down the street, Janie’s phone pings loudly. Rolling my eyes, I try not to be sick as she digs out the handset and beams manically at the screen. No doubt that’s the delivery guy. A quick glance at her phone confirms my suspicions. Jeez, whatever happened to playing it cool?
‘You can’t bring any more men back to the apartment.’ I say firmly, already knowing that this is exactly what she is planning on doing.
Janie slaps me on the back playfully and lets out a cackle. ‘Will you relax? We were just talking! You really think I’m that easy?’
‘Unfortunately for me, I know you are…’
It’s safe to say that Janie has developed somewhat of a type since she split from Randy. It generally goes something like this… under thirty, painfully skinny and with such little women experience that they believe Janie to be a catch. How she can be so confident in talking to men less than half her age is beyond me. I honestly don’t know how she does it, but men can’t seem to resist her. Seriously, they are like moths to a flame. When she first separated from Randy, Janie had a short fling with an Orlando native called Paulie. That particular relationship was more down to the fact that she managed to convince him she was a filthy rich entrepreneur who spent her days whizzing around Beverly Hills in a yellow Lamborghini, but that’s another story entirely.
‘Maybe I’ll go and meet him for a nightcap...’ She muses, smacking her lips together loudly.
‘I mean it, Janie. There’s to be no more men at the apartment, it’s not fair on Noah. And don’t try to sneak him in once we’ve gone to bed, because I’ll know.’
Attempting to cross the street, I jump back onto the pavement as a cab whizzes past, almost knocking me off my feet. Damn London cab drivers. Why do they think the Highway Code doesn’t apply to them? Red, stop. Green, go. I mean, how hard can it be? Concentrating on giving the driver a deathly stare, I don’t realise that the traffic has come to a standstill. Before I have the chance to put one foot in front of the other, a group of power dressed women shove past me, causing my pizza boxes to topple to the ground. Well, isn’t that just fabulous? Letting out a silent scream, I drop to my knees and try to avoid being trampled on by the steady stream of suits marching on regardless.
‘Can you give me a hand here?’ Roughly shoving my wild curls out of my face, I look up at Janie who has strategically placed herself two feet away, obviously not wanting to be associated with the pathetic woman scooping melted cheese off the road.
Pretending that she can’t hear a single word I’m saying, she deliberately turns away and waits for me to get my act together. Is she for real? Who sees somebody struggling and deliberately ignores them? Resisting the urge to thump her on the nose, I take a deep breath and tuck my hair out of my face. Grabbing the now filthy pizza, I shove it back into the box and stomp over the road. I catch a couple of teenagers sniggering in my direction and try to keep my eyes fixed firmly ahead. Disposing of the ruined food into a nearby bin, I clutch on to the remaining box as though my life depends on it.
Choosing to pretend that Janie no longer exists, I look straight ahead and don’t turn back until I reach our apartment block. Punching the passcode into the keypad, I throw open the heavy glass door and jab at the lift button with my elbow. Praying that the lift arrives before she can catch up, I tap on the side of the box impatiently. Unfortunately, it looks like my luck isn’t going to change anytime soon.
‘Seriously?’ Janie laughs as she totters inside in her absurd stilettoes. ‘You’re about to eat your weight
in pizza and you can’t even be bothered to take the damn stairs?’
Feeling my blood begin to boil, I give Janie a look that could melt stone and defiantly hit the lift button again.
‘OK, but that ass of yours ain’t gonna tone itself…’ Hitching up her already short skirt, she adjusts her bra and trundles up the staircase.
Before I can yell something that I won’t be able to take back, the lift doors spring open and I throw myself inside. Checking out my reflection in the less than flattering mirror, I have to admit that my arse is in fact a little larger of late. I guess all of those McDonald’s meals I’ve been inhaling on my lunch breaks are finally starting to show. Sucking in my stomach, I make a mental note to renew my gym membership and roll my aching shoulders. I’ve never been one of those infuriating women who can eat what they want and not gain a pound. You know the kind, the ones who devour cheeseburgers for breakfast and still look like they’ve stepped out of a gym advert. Sadly, staying slim has always been a challenge for me. Unlike my best friend, Lianna, I only have to look at a burger box and my cellulite shudders. Annoyingly, Li can eat like a hungry horse and still make most supermodels feel envious. And I mean that literally.
You see, for those of you who don’t know, Lianna runs a rather prestige beach bar in Barbados with her hunky husband, Vernon. The Hangout is frequented by a somewhat celebrity clientele, with many of its customers being famous for one thing or another. Just last week she sent me a string of Whatsapp messages showing her comparing abs with Kendall and Kylie. I tried not to feel envious as I ate nachos on the couch and compared my muffin top to that of an overweight hamster.
The lift doors ping open and a wave of annoyance washes over me as I notice that Janie has beaten me to the finish line. Dammit. Sixty years old and she can still clear ten flights of stairs in three minutes flat. I’ve got to hand it to her, she might be an absolute terror to live with, but she is in bloody good shape for a woman of her age. I have tried to say this to her before, but somehow she managed to turn this compliment into one of the world’s worst insults.
A loud woofing drifts out into the hallway and I find my lips stretching into a smile. After we had Noah, I didn’t think it was possible to love another living thing as much as I love my son, but our new dog, Pumpkin, comes a close second. Ever since I first moved in with Oliver all those years ago, I found myself dreaming of fluffy butts and wagging tails. Oliver has always been sceptical of the practicalities of having a dog in an apartment, so when he finally gave in I couldn’t believe my luck. We fell in love with Pumpkin the second that we laid eyes on her. In a strange twist of fate, Oliver and I got lost on a trip up to Chester and stumbled across an animal sanctuary. Agreeing to have a quick look, we took one glance at Pumpkin’s golden fur and decided that we just had to have her. This time last year we didn’t even know that she existed and already we couldn’t imagine life without her.
‘Gimmie that.’ Snatching the pizza box right out of my hands, Janie holds it above her head like a waitress and knocks loudly on our door.
Within seconds it swings open and the little face that I know and love beams up at us.
‘Yay!’ Noah yells, throwing his arms in the air and jumping up and down. ‘Dad, Gee-Gee brought pizza!’ Trying to control Pumpkin, he holds on to her pink collar and pulls her back.
‘I sure did!’ Sashaying inside, Janie twirls around the box and drops it onto the table with a flourish, making sure to shoot Pumpkin a look of disgust in the process.
Noah squeals hysterically and jumps up onto a chair, his face alight with glee as Janie flips open to the lid to reveal the cheesy goodness. Planting a kiss on his head of chocolate curls, I want to scream that it was in fact me who got the pizza and it was also me who was left to pick up the petrol stained fragments of the other pizza from the middle of the road.
Leaning down to stroke Pumpkin’s soft fur, I resist the urge to scoop her up and bury my face in her pink belly. Her big brown eyes light up as she licks my hand frantically, her tail wagging like a high speed windscreen wiper. How have I lived without her for so long?
‘How’s my beautiful wife?’ Oliver whispers, smiling down at me and giving my shoulders a quick squeeze. His American accent is starting to get a cockney twang, which automatically brings a smile to my face. ‘You look tired. Tough day?’
Dragging myself away from Pumpkin, I reach up to kiss Oliver’s beard clad cheek and shake off my coat.
‘You could say that.’ I kick off my boots and attempt to twist my crazy curls off my face. ‘How was Gina?’
He nods and takes his phone out of his pocket, frowning at the screen as he takes a seat at the table. ‘She just had Noah today, so she was a lot calmer than last week.’
I nod knowingly and start to gather some plates. When I decided to start working in Floral Fizz, Oliver and I had a little (OK, a lot) of trouble finding a nanny. Janie flat out refused and we just couldn’t bring ourselves to leave our pride and joy with a total stranger. Don’t get me wrong, everyone we met with was absolutely lovely, some had even worked for royalty, but I still felt a little uneasy about trusting someone I didn’t know with Noah. Between me and you, I can’t even leave Noah with Oliver without worrying that he’s either dropped him or left him at the supermarket.
To cut a long story short, our good friend, Gina Stroker, who lives in the apartment above ours with our other good friend, Marc, had the genius idea of setting up her own childcare company. At first I was a little dubious, I mean let’s face it, despite having three of her own children, Gina isn’t exactly the most maternal person on the planet. When she and Marc announced they were having Madison, no one could believe it. After all, she was the one who swanned around the office in animal print mini dresses and enough red lipstick to make a Vegas drag act feel washed out. Surprisingly, apart from the odd meltdown here and there Gina has done fantastically well and the convenience of having her right upstairs just can’t be beaten.
Grabbing some bottles of water from the fridge, I let out a sigh and squeeze into my seat. Pumpkin scurries around my feet, wagging her tail in a desperate bid for a slice of pizza. She offers me her paw and licks my hand hopefully. If only everyone could be as delighted at the prospect of a bit of bread and cheese. Discreetly opening her drawer, I take a handful of dog treats and drop them in front of her. Not one to turn her nose up at the offer of food, she gobbles them down and looks up for more. Shaking my head, I give her a quick scratch behind the ears and tell her to lie down.
‘You just got the one pizza?’ Oliver frowns as he takes a slice and hands it over to Noah, who immediately takes a giant bite. ‘You know there are four of us, right?’
‘Yes, Oliver. I am very aware of just how many people there are here.’ I glance at Janie and give her a discreet scowl. ‘I had a little mishap on the way home and I had to throw away the other one…’
‘You had to throw it away?’ He mumbles, clearly confused as to what catastrophic event could have caused me to lose half of our dinner. ‘Well, I guess we will just have to make do with one then…’
I take a deep breath to calm down and reach across the table for some chips, narrowly avoiding knocking over the unopened salad bowl in the process. Janie catches my eye and looks at my plate of fried goodies before pointing at my bum.
‘Do you want some?’ I ask, trying to sound innocent as I hold the greasy box under her nose, already knowing that she’s going to say hell no.
Janie dips a carrot stick into a mound of hummus and crunches loudly, not bothering to dignify me with a response. Dropping the chips onto the table, I look at Oliver and wonder how on earth he can be so oblivious to the obvious tension between Janie and I. To be fair, he’s not the most observant man in the world, but the fact that we are around three weeks away from killing each other is clear for anyone to see.
When I agreed to Janie living with us, my biggest concern was how Oliver would cope being in such close proximity with his mother. It’s no secret that the
y don’t have the best relationship, but almost unbelievably they seem to have grown closer than ever. After a not so squeaky clean childhood, Oliver is finally reconnecting with his mum and I really don’t want to be the one who breaks up their new found friendship.
The fact that they’re now getting along famously has only added to the hostility between Janie and I. No matter how hard I try, I just can’t bring myself to tell Oliver that his mother is driving me up the wall. At first I told myself not to be selfish. After all, it was just a temporary solution and only a matter of time before we waved her back off to America. But as the days turned into weeks and the weeks tuned into months, the subject of Janie leaving became harder and harder to talk about. It’s like it became a taboo topic, something that we weren’t able to mention without someone looking uncomfortable and squirming in their seat.
Feeling my blood pressure start to rise, I pluck a slice of pizza from the box and dunk it into a mound of barbeque sauce. As I chew away at the delicious stuffed crust, I make a promise to myself that I will tackle the issue of Janie sooner rather than later. Is she ever planning on leaving? Who knows! What I do know is that we can’t go on like this for much longer. Something has got to give…
The flowers of tomorrow are in the seeds of today…
Chapter 3
‘Noah, you can’t wear that.’ Looking him up and down, I shake my head and quickly fasten my watch onto my wrist. ‘Go and find something else, please.’
A wave of confusion washes over his face and I suddenly feel a little bad. For the past few weeks Noah has been choosing his own clothes and until recently he has been pretty much on the money. Today, however, is a different story entirely. Dressed in a Spiderman mask, last year’s pirate Halloween costume and mismatched socks, he looks frankly ridiculous and certainly not nursery appropriate.