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Page 7

by Christina Jones


  ‘So I see,’ Mitzi nodded, feeling mightily relieved. ‘And now I really must go.’

  ‘And I must feed our paying guest as he was expecting an evening meal at his previous digs,’ Lobelia preened herself, pulling down the remnants of her shrunken cardigan. She beamed at Shay as she trotted towards the kitchen. ‘Of course, supper isn’t included normally, but on your first night we’d like to offer something a bit special. I can do you a nice fish-paste sandwich and a pickled cucumber.’

  Mitzi tried not to laugh as Shay attempted to wear an expression of brave enthusiasm as he followed Lobelia.

  ‘And,’ Lob’s voice echoed from the chill depths of the Bandings’s icebox kitchen, ‘as a welcome to your new home treat I can give you two slices of bread with your sandwich.’

  ‘Bugger,’ Lavender muttered as she opened the front door for Mitzi. ‘Bang goes my bloody breakfast.’

  Back in her own house, Mitzi was enveloped by the warmth and comfort and cosiness. Poor, poor Shay.

  Doll and Lu were sitting on the hearthrug with Richard and Judy, and they all looked up expectantly. Giving them a quick résumé of why Shay was next door and being aware of Lu’s eyes sparkling, Mitzi held her hands out to the fire. ‘So, that’s the Heath Ledger myth scotched. So much for Granny Westward’s wishes coming true.’

  ‘Oh, I don’t know—’ Lulu stroked Richard and Judy ‘— I think it’s pretty cool, actually. Not the real thing, but as near as damn it. And you never know – oh, there’s the door again. Maybe he’s come back?’

  ‘And maybe he hasn’t,’ Doll scrambled to her feet. ‘I’ll go – I need the loo anyway.’

  Warm again, Mitzi curled herself into the cushiony sofa and closed her eyes. She still felt rather floaty.

  ‘Christ!’

  Lulu’s shout made her jump. Opening her eyes, she blinked at the doorway. Doll, looking stunned, was standing just in front of Brett, who was hovering in the hallway wearing what appeared to be a black leather catsuit.

  ‘Brett!’ Mitzi scrambled to her feet. She still felt rather strange. ‘Lovely to see you – um – Doll didn’t say you were coming over.’

  Brett smiled, looking very self-conscious. With a jolt, Mitzi realised that the black leather catsuit was actually tight black jeans and a leather jacket. He looked like the Milk Tray Man. Which was very odd as Brett’s non-postman’s-uniform wardrobe had consisted of beige chinos and even beiger polo shirts for as long as she’d known him.

  ‘No – well, I thought that she may have had a little bit too much to drink to be able to drive, so I walked over so that I could drive her back …’ He frowned. ‘It was really weird, you know. I’d gone to bed, was asleep – and I had this really vivid dream that she needed me. I woke up, and just had to see her. Had to come over and get her …’

  ‘But you’ve never collected her before, ever,’ Lu sniggered. ‘And why on earth are you wearing those pervy clothes?’

  Brett, looking bemused, shook his head. ‘Dunno, really. I haven’t worn these for years, not since I gave up my motorbike – they seemed to fall out of my wardrobe and it was so urgent that I got here I didn’t bother to look for anything else. They seemed to suit my mood …’ He smiled gently at Doll. ‘Anyway, darling, are you ready?’

  ‘Darling? Blimey!’ Lu looked at Mitzi. ‘What did she wish for? Impromptu romance … Wow. This is scary stuff …’

  ‘Shush,’ Mitzi hissed. ‘Whatever the reason, we don’t want to spoil it. Doll love, you’d better get along home now … no, Lu and I will clear up in the morning … Off you pop. Both of you.’

  Doll, still looking shell-shocked, allowed a solicitous Brett to help her on with her coat. The fact that he seemed to want to kiss her all over as he did so made the process a little more awkward than usual. Lulu buried her face in Richard and Judy and giggled.

  The goodbyes said, and having waved Doll and Brett off with a warm glow of happiness, Mitzi switched off the lights on the devastation in the kitchen and wandered back into the living room.

  ‘Two out of three,’ Lu untangled her feet from her long skirts and hauled herself upright. ‘Not bad, Mum. Not bad at all … And are you sure you don’t want to clear this lot up tonight?’

  ‘Positive. We’ll probably feel a bit more normal in the morning after a night’s sleep. But even I have to admit that Brett’s behaviour isn’t – wasn’t – well, in character.’

  ‘Poor Doll,’ Lu shuddered, kissing her mother before wobbling across the living room. ‘Thanks to Granny Westward she’ll have to endure a night of passion with Postman Brett. Just think about it – no don’t! I mean, Boring Brett and our Doll all loved-up! Yuk! Just shows – you really should be careful what you wish for … Night then … I’m off to dream blameless dreams about our new next-door neighbour.’

  Alone in the firelight, Mitzi changed Abba for the Rolling Stones and trilled along with Mick and the boys generously sharing their ‘19th Nervous Breakdown’. Richard and Judy stretched in front of the fire, and Mitzi joined them on the rug. It had been a wonderful evening, although very, very strange – Shay arriving, and then Brett’s totally uncharacteristic behaviour. And both so soon after they’d made their wishes. It was simply coincidence, of course. Nothing else. Funny though, and maybe, just maybe, there was something in this herbalism.

  Over the weekend, she’d ring all the people who’d answered her Baby Boomer advert in the library, and arrange a meeting in the village hall. Booking the village hall would, of course, mean she’d have to face Tarnia Snepps, and there would no doubt be the usual battle over who was really in charge. Tarnia, if she thought the Baby Boomers Collective might improve her image, would try to muscle in. As usual.

  Mitzi tapped her fingers as Mick and the boys roared into ‘It’s All Over Now’. Perhaps she ought to study Granny Westward’s recipe book more closely. There may well be something in the recipes to help her steal a march on the Botox Queen of Hazy Hassocks. Empowerment or something along those lines. Ginseng in the ginger nuts or caraway in the custard creams.

  The phone rang. Groaning, Mitzi glanced at the clock. Gone midnight. It was probably a wrong number. Someone drunkenly wanting a taxi or a kebab delivery. Not bothering to stand up, she rolled towards the handset.

  ‘Hello … oh, Lance, these late-night calls are becoming a bit of a habit, aren’t they? What’s the matter? Is Jennifer listening in on the extension? She’s where? Doing what? No, I’m not laughing … honestly. But that’s what you get for marrying someone from Chigwell. French manicures and facial detox weekends … Hmmm … What? No, I promise I’m not laughing … what? Oh, don’t be silly, Lance – of course you don’t! Tomorrow? No, I don’t think so – honestly. I’m very busy. Give me a ring in the week, okay? Sorry – goodnight.’

  Irritably, she clicked off the phone and threw it under the cushions. Mick and Co. were warbling ‘Under My Thumb’.

  Mitzi cuddled Richard and Judy and sighed heavily. Bloody hell. Why had Lance chosen tonight, of all nights, to tell her how much he still needed and loved her?

  Chapter Six

  ‘I know it’s a cliché, but I really, really hate Monday mornings,’ Lulu grumbled as she burrowed deeply into the kitchen’s avalanche cupboard, trying to find a matching boot. ‘But then, if Mondays were part of the weekend I suppose I’d hate Tuesdays instead …’ She sighed heavily. ‘What I really need is a life of total indolence.’

  ‘Not unlike the one you have now, then,’ Mitzi laughed.

  ‘Not fair,’ Lulu paused in her boot-sort to peer over her shoulder at her mother. ‘Now you sound like Nasty Niall. It may not be a conventional career – but I work very hard in the shop and on fund-raising and awareness and – oh, and by the way before I forget, Doll says I’m to ask you if you’re thinking of seeing Dad while Jennifer’s away being buffed up. Because if you are, we want it put on record that we’re not happy about it. Much as we love him, he’s not to be trusted, Mum. If you take him back—’

  ‘Of course I
’m not taking him back,’ Mitzi said. ‘I’m not even going to see him. You know what your Dad’s like. Without Jennifer there to mother him, he was just feeling lonely. And she was only being buffed up over the weekend. She’ll be back today.’

  ‘That’s okay then.’ Having resumed her hunt, Lulu broke off with a little yell of triumph as she discovered the boot, then sat on the floor to pull it on. Richard and Judy helped with the laces. ‘Still, it was all a bit spooky. You know, you wishing for someone to love you and want you and then – shazam! – Dad’s on the phone saying those very words.’

  ‘Pure coincidence,’ Mitzi said firmly. ‘And you know Dad always gets maudlin when he’s left on his own for more then twenty minutes. But it was fun, wasn’t it? Especially for you, with the gorgeous Shay moving in next door.’

  Lulu scrambled to her feet and opened the back door. ‘Yeah, far better for me than for poor old Doll having to endure Brett’s amorous advances, that’s for sure. Mind you, I haven’t caught as much as a glimpse of him since Friday. He was probably just a pigment of my overheated imagination.’

  ‘Don’t you mean figment?’

  ‘After that Wishes Come True concoction I know exactly what I mean.’ Lulu grinned. ‘Right, I’m off. Oh, sod it, it’s raining. I’ll get soaked waiting at the bus stop.’

  ‘Hmmm – not one of the things I have to worry about. No more wet Monday mornings and getting into work sopping wet and tearing round at lunchtime getting even more sopping wet. I think I shall just spend the day ensconced by the fire organising my first Baby Boomers Collective meeting in the village hall – oh, and maybe planning my next culinary surprise.’

  ‘That’s so cruel,’ Lulu pulled a face as she rummaged in the pile of back-door debris for a serviceable umbrella.

  ‘Oh, I think the Baby Boomers are looking forward to meeting up at last – and my cooking wasn’t that bad.’

  ‘It’s not the cooking or the Baby Boomers.’ Lulu looked despondently at a selection of umbrellas with torn fabric and bent spokes. ‘It’s the staying at home by the fire bit … Oh, what the hell – I’ll run to the dentist’s and see if Doll can give me a lift into Winterbrook. It’ll be loads quicker than the bus or waiting for you to get dressed and offer.’ She grinned. ‘Plus it’ll give me a chance to find out what happened during the Love Fest. Bye!’

  Doll had become used to her scrounging lifts in the Polo in inclement weather over the years. It always led to sisterly arguments about Lulu taking her driving test – again. Having failed seven times and knowing that, even if she could drive, she certainly couldn’t afford a car, and not being sure that as an almost-eco-warrior she should be adding to atmospheric pollution anyway, Lulu always felt the argument was very much stacked against her.

  The rain was irritatingly fine and non-stop, so by the time she reached the surgery Lulu’s feet were squelching, the hem of her trailing skirt was saturated, her Afghan coat was giving off an even stronger aroma than usual, and drops were dripping annoyingly from the end of every one of her beaded braids.

  ‘Drowned rat alert!’ Viv the receptionist called out cheerily, not looking up from her screen. ‘Blimey Lu, that coat pongs to high heaven! If you hang around outside Patsy’s Pantry with the rest of the rough sleepers, you’ll make a fortune.’

  ‘Oh, ha-ha.’

  Lulu sploshed her way towards the row of whey-faced patients who, by the way they were all hunched together in the furthest corner, clearly felt that having dental treatment early on a grey and dark October Monday morning was not high on their list of priorities. Perching wetly on the edge of an uncomfortable chair, Lu wondered why dentists always had awful furniture and harsh overhead strip lighting and receptionists like Viv. Maybe it was to fool people into thinking things could only get better.

  She picked up a copy of My Weekly and shook her soggy braids out of her eyes. ‘Is Doll in yet?’

  Viv still didn’t look up from her computer screen. ‘Ages ago. She and Mr J have got an early wisdom tooth. She’ll be free then until the new dentist arrives at about ten. I’ll let her know you’re here.’

  ‘Thanks.’ Lulu plunged back into the magazine. She always enjoyed reading Mitzi’s copies when she could get her hands on them. There was always a lot of retro-1960s stuff in them. Lulu had always yearned to be a proper hippie.

  The surgery door opened. The knot of waiting patients gathered more tightly together. Ignoring them – and their collective sigh of relief – Doll grinned at her sister. ‘You’re not getting into my car like that. That coat stinks like a sewer. Why on earth don’t you invest in a mac?’

  ‘I’ll have a look through the stock when I get to work.’ Lulu gave Doll a swift top-to-toe appraisal. Disappointingly there were no telltale signs of a passionate weekend. She didn’t look even slightly ravaged. She looked, as always, neat, clean and sort of polished.

  Doll shrugged. ‘You are such a scuz-bucket! Can you just hang on there for a minute – I’ve just got to clear up a few things before Tammy takes over in my surgery.’

  At the ‘s’ word, the patients gibbered a bit more. Doll, in a swirl of pristine navy uniform and sensible shoes, vanished back towards the inner sanctum – but not before a menacing waft of antiseptic had blasted into the waiting room. Two of the patients crashed to their feet and headed for the door.

  Their escape was hampered by a very tall, very wet man trying to get in. Lulu, having exhausted the instructions in My Weekly on the best use of black eyeliner and white lipstick to achieve the Dusty Springfield look, watched with interest.

  The newcomer was certainly worth watching.

  With cropped hair, a damp leather jacket, one diamond ear-stud and a sort of beautiful, craggy, dangerous Vinnie Jones face, he was head and shoulders above any of the usual Hazy Hassocks dental patients. Lulu had an almostunfaithful-to-Heath-Ledger moment.

  Viv was still immersed in her computer, leaving the man standing looking rather lost on the cream lino tiles.

  Lulu smiled encouragingly at him. ‘Hi.’ She shook her damp braids away from her face in what she hoped was an attractive gesture. ‘You might as well sit down and wait for her to finish. They have a really weird set-up here. The receptionist doesn’t speak to her patients until she’s finished playing her patience.’

  The man gave a bit of a chuckle at the play on words and Lu warmed to him instantly. And he sat beside her. People often didn’t, especially on buses, because of the Afghan.

  Viv finished her card game with a triumphal flourish and glared at the newcomer. ‘Yes? Your name? You can’t just sneak in and sit there, you know. You have to tell me you’re here and who you are.’

  ‘Okay,’ he nodded. ‘Sounds sensible. I’m here and I’m Joel Earnshaw.’

  Lulu gave him a further appraising glance from under her clogged-together lashes. Joel – nice name. Nice voice too. Deep and northern-ish. Being none too sure about dialects she couldn’t tell if it was Lancashire or Yorkshire or maybe even Geordie.

  ‘You haven’t got an appointment!’ Viv complained after scrolling through the appropriate page. ‘Are you an emergency?’

  Joel shook his head. ‘I’m a bit early. I wasn’t supposed to be here until ten.’

  Viv pulled her skinny black eyebrows together. ‘Well, I still can’t find you here. You’re not on my list. You’re not an NHS swap, are you? Have you been sent to us from another surgery? This isn’t a benefits case, is it?’

  ‘No,’ Joel said firmly. ‘But now you come to mention it, I am very keen to see dental treatment available to all again. I don’t believe that good teeth should be the sole preserve of the wealthy.’

  The knot of quivering patients nodded as one.

  Lulu clapped her hands. ‘Oh, well done! I’ve been saying that for ages but no one listens.’

  ‘Shut up,’ Viv snapped at her. ‘And you—’ she flashed slitty eyes at Joel ‘—have no need to start spouting lefty cants in here! We give a good, honest, value-for-money service.’

&
nbsp; ‘Glad to hear it,’ Joel grinned. ‘And before we get even deeper into the mire, maybe I ought to explain – I’m not here as a patient. I’m a dentist. The new dentist. Mr Earnshaw.’

  ‘Oh!’ Viv flushed russet. ‘Why ever didn’t you say so? You don’t look like a dentist. And I thought you – he – was called Joe. Our nurse Tammy said you were called Joe.’

  ‘Possibly she misheard,’ Joel said gently, standing up and walking to the desk. ‘My accent sometimes causes problems south of Watford. So, now we’ve got that cleared up, shall we start again?’

  Viv was simpering and preening. Lulu smiled to herself as Joel Earnshaw turned on the charm. Lucky, lucky Doll – working with someone like him. Even the waiting patients – well, the female ones at least – had perked up considerably.

  ‘Finished at last.’ Doll tip-tapped back into the waiting room, pulling on a sensible navy raincoat and freeing the ends of her neat blonde hair from the collar. ‘We should be able to get you to work before Mr and Mrs Pippin start advertising for a replacement.’

  ‘They wouldn’t do that,’ Lulu said as she stood up. ‘They’ve always said I’m totally irreplaceable. Well, that they’d never find anyone else quite like me – which is the same thing, isn’t it? But Doll – look … no, look!’

  ‘Why are you jerking your head like that?’ Doll frowned. ‘And why are you pulling funny faces? And why—’

  ‘Doll,’ Viv’s voice dripped honeyed cream. ‘Meet Mr Earnshaw. Joel. Our new dentist. Doll—’ she fluttered her eyelashes at Joel ‘—is our senior nurse. She’ll be working with you until you’re settled in. Then you’ll get Tammy.’

  Doll smiled and held out her hand. ‘Lovely to meet you. Sorry I wasn’t around when you came for interview – and so sorry that I’ve got to leave you. I won’t be long – an errand of mercy into Winterbrook – I’ll be back in plenty of time for a quick run-through before our first patient arrives.’

  Joel shook her hand, smiled back and murmured something friendly.

 

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