‘Here you are,’ said Ted, coming back in with the tea.
‘Thanks, love,’ said Reenie, taking the steaming mug from him. ‘Here, let me hold yours while you get in.’
Soon they were snuggled together comfortably, sipping at their drinks, the silence between them relaxed and companionable.
‘So,’ said Ted casually, spoiling it all. ‘You haven’t told me very much about the workshop yesterday. Nothing, in fact.’
Reenie tensed up. It was true, she hadn’t. And somehow, she didn’t want to.
‘Well, it’s confidential, isn’t it?’ she said defensively. ‘I can’t tell you about the girls on it and what they said, can I? It wouldn’t be right.’
‘So it’s all women then, is it?’ Ted asked quickly. ‘No men?’
Still reluctant to talk about it, Reenie sighed. ‘Yes,’ she said, ‘it’s all women.’
‘Good,’ said Ted, but his expression was still expectant, and Reenie frowned at him.
‘What?’
‘Is that it, then?’ Ted said. ‘That’s all I get to know?’
Reenie felt suddenly irritated. ‘Look,’ she said, ‘you wanted me to do the course, so I’m doing it, all right? That’s all you need to know for now, isn’t it?’ There was no way she was going to tell him about this week’s homework, which included going out somewhere without any knickers on. She wasn’t by any means sure she was going to find the nerve to do it anyway, and he’d only wet himself laughing.
‘All right!’ said Ted. ‘Keep your hair on! I was only showing an interest!’
Reenie was instantly contrite. She and Ted rarely exchanged a cross word. ‘I’m sorry, love. Only it’s just… well, it’s a bit embarrassing.’
Ted sighed. ‘No, I’m sorry. You don’t have to go back next week if you don’t want to. I was only thinking of you, you know, when I suggested it. Just doesn’t seem fair that you don’t have any fun.’
Reenie suddenly felt like crying. ‘Silly old fool!’ she said. ‘D’you think I’ve been lying here suffering all these years?’
Ted put his arm around her and pulled her close. ‘Not suffering, no. Just not…well, experiencing the earth moving.’
‘I nearly did that time in Blackpool,’ Reenie re-minded him.
‘Nineteen ninety-nine,’ Ted confirmed.
Then he caught Reenie’s eye and the pair of them burst out laughing again.
Ted gave her another hug. ‘I mean it. Don’t go back again if you don’t want to.’
‘No,’ said Reenie. ‘I’ll give it another go.’
Next door, their neighbours had started up again. Reenie gave Ted a nudge. ‘And if it doesn’t work, I can always go round there and ask those two for some advice, eh?’
Ted groaned. ‘Not sure I could keep up with that! Come on, might as well get up.’
When Reenie got downstairs, Ted had made a start on the breakfast and was frying bacon with the back door wide open.
‘Didn’t want to risk waking up Sleeping Beauty with the smoke alarm,’ Ted explained. ‘Not sure what time she got in last night, are you?’
‘No,’ Reenie said. ‘It was pretty late though.’
‘Might be time for a little father-daughter chat soon,’ he said. ‘She needs to think about what she’s going to do with her life now she’s not on that course.’ Ted reached over to switch the radio on, filling the kitchen with the over-cheery voice of a DJ on the local radio station.
‘Good morning, Shelthorpe! It’s Saturday 18th September, and it’s a fine day out there, so get up you lazy lot!’
And just like that, as soon as Reenie heard the date, everything changed. The eighteenth of September. Reenie sat down before she fell down, her heart racing.
Over at the cooker, Ted carried on cooking the breakfast, but there was something different about his actions now. They were quieter. He was attacking the preparations with less gusto. Going through the motions. More than anything, Reenie wanted him to reach down to switch the gas off and turn to speak to her. But she knew he wouldn’t.
When he did finally turn with her plateful of bacon and eggs, his eyes were deliberately turned towards the crispy bacon.
‘There you go, girl,’ he said, his voice as artificially cheery as the DJ’s. ‘Get that down you.’ And when he sat down opposite her and began to eat his own food, Reenie experienced, just for a moment, a feeling something close to hatred for him. How could he carry on as if nothing had happened? How could he?
With a great effort, she pushed herself up from the table. She was trembling with emotion, but somehow she managed to speak. ‘I…I’m not very hungry at the moment. Think I’ll… go for a little walk.’
‘I’ll put yours in the oven to keep warm then, shall I?’ Ted offered, still not making eye contact.
When Reenie didn’t answer, he got up and did it anyway, while she stood and waited. But afterwards he just sat down again and carried on eating.
‘Do you want to come, Ted?’ Reenie asked in a small voice. ‘Do you want to come for a walk?’
He smiled briefly, focusing his gaze somewhere over her shoulder. ‘No, thanks, love. I think I’ll go down to the allotment. Take your coat with you. There’s a chill in the air.’
There’s a chill in our relationship! thought Reenie, I don’t know about the air! And she grabbed her coat off the peg without bothering to put it on, closing the door after herself and hurrying off down the garden path without another word.
So desperate was Reenie to reach her destination, she threw caution to the winds and took the most direct route, walking straight down Bartolph Street and turning right along St Mary’s Drive. It had been three years since she’d last walked this way. This was where it had happened, and ever since then she hadn’t been able to come near. Normally these days she took the long way round, skirting the industrial estate and the shops. But it took a good twenty minutes longer going that way, and today she just didn’t have twenty minutes to spare.
But by the time Reenie reached the point of no return, she realised it had been a big mistake to walk through these streets. She was still trembling and now she felt cold as ice as well. She dared not look anywhere but straight ahead. If she could have walked safely with her eyes closed, she would have done. At any minute, she expected to see someone she knew; to hear someone calling out to her, mouthing off. But it was still early, so mercifully she saw no one, which was as lucky as Reenie expected to get that day of all dreadful days.
That blooming, sodding workshop. Thinking about it had driven everything else from her mind. Everything else. How could she have forgotten? How could she? She felt ashamed of herself. And so very sad.
At last she reached the ornate gates and turned into the entrance of the cemetery. The grave was in the far corner, much closer to the road and the traffic than Reenie had ever wanted it to be. But its exact location had been, like so many things, out of her hands.
Once there, Reenie knelt down on the ground to be as close as possible. ‘Hello, love,’ she said. ‘Hello, my darling. Dad says sorry he can’t be here.’
At the lie, the tears came, sliding silently down her cheeks. She didn’t speak again until she heard footsteps behind her; felt a comforting hand on her shoulder.
‘Hello, Mum. Knew I’d find you here today.’
Reenie reached up to cover her eldest daughter Gaynor’s hand with her own, her sobs deepening at the thought of how she so very nearly hadn’t been there.
‘Three years,’ Reenie said. ‘Can you believe it?’
‘No,’ said Gaynor, her voice thick with tears. ‘I can’t.’
‘Grandma!’ called a voice, and quickly Reenie blew her nose, doing her best to pull herself together before her grandson reached her.
‘Hello, Charlie, mate,’ she said.
Charlie’s face was wearing an expression of puzzlement. ‘Grandma,’ he asked her seriously, ‘why are you wearing your slippers?’
Six
As Janet paid for Carol De Vi
lle’s bacon and avocado baguette in the High Street sandwich shop on the Tuesday following the workshop, she heard the unmistakeable sound of Estelle’s voice behind her in the queue.
‘No, next week isn’t soon enough. You assured me they’d be ready by the end of this week.’
Without stopping to think, Janet half-turned from the counter to smile at Estelle, but Estelle was talking into her mobile phone and didn’t notice her. So Janet gave her a little wave for good measure.
‘Well, I would appreciate it if you would pull out all the stops out and make it possible,’ Estelle said with a frown, turning away, and it was only then that it occurred to Janet that Estelle might not want to acknowledge her. Of course Estelle wouldn’t want to acknowledge her. The workshops were supposed to be confidential. It was just plain daft of her to feel hurt.
‘Your change, madam,’ the sales assistant said.
‘Oh, thank you.’ Janet took her change, picked up the baguette and began to creep past Estelle, keeping her gaze on the floor.
‘Well, frankly, that’s your problem, Mr Short,’ Estelle was saying into her phone.
Janet was concentrating so hard on looking at the floor she forgot to check she was holding the cellophane wrapper of the baguette the right way up. Just as she passed Estelle the baguette began to slip out of its wrapper, ejecting the majority of its contents onto Estelle’s foot.
‘Oh, no! Oh, God, I’m so sorry!’ Quickly Janet squatted, dabbing nervously at Estelle’s expensive suede with a tissue from her pocket.
‘Leave it!’ Estelle snapped at her then spoke quickly into her phone. ‘No, not you, Mr Short! Look, I’ll have to call you back!’
Estelle’s shoe was now free from slices of avocado, but Janet’s frantic efforts with the tissue were ensuring that the green slimy mess was irreversibly rubbed into the surface of the suede.
‘Estelle, I am so sorry.’
People were looking at them now, but Janet was too busy mopping at Estelle’s shoe to notice.
‘Look, will you just leave it?’ Estelle said, attempting to drag her foot away.
‘Let me pay for them, Estelle,’ Janet babbled. ‘I haven’t got enough money with me now, but I can bring it to the workshop on Friday…’
At that, Estelle gave her foot an extra tug and stalked towards the door, her face red with fury. Mortified, Janet scurried after her, stopping only to shove Carol De Ville’s baguette, minus most of its avocado, back into its cellophane wrapping.
‘Estelle!’ Janet called after the fast-retreating figure, but Estelle carried on walking, not bothering to turn back.
The mayonnaise-smeared baguette stared accusingly at her from its cellophane bag. Well? It seemed to say, what are you going to do with me? Janet gave the sandwich shop a brief glance. She ought to go back in to buy a replacement. But if she did that, she would have to pay for it herself. And, what’s more, it was her afternoon off, which Carol had known full well when she’d asked Janet to go and buy her a sandwich at one o’clock.
What would Jade do in such a situation? Would she replace the sandwich or simply smile and hand it to Carol as it was? But Janet couldn’t think, because of course, Jade would never have got herself into such a situation in the first place. On impulse, Janet reached into her bag for yet more tissues and wiped the outside of the baguette down. So what if she earned herself another one of Carol De Ville’s dirty looks? She seemed preconditioned to be on the receiving end of those, anyway.
But as it happened, when Janet got back to the shop with the baguette, Carol De Ville was talking to John George, one of her suppliers, so she scarcely had the time to give Janet or the baguette a glance. John George, on the other hand, made a point of looking up to smile at Janet. He was a nice man; Janet sometimes saw him at church. In recent months, since his divorce had come through, he’d been on his own.
‘I was very sorry to hear about your mother, Janet,’ he said now, and Carol De Ville paused in what she was saying, a pained look of politeness on her face.
‘Thank you,’ Janet said, meaning it. ‘I’m just off now to make a start at sorting her things out actually.’
John nodded. ‘There’s always such a lot to do,’ he said. ‘When my folks died I couldn’t believe the amount of stuff they’d got stashed away in the attic. Yes, it’s a grim task.’ When he reached out to give Janet’s hand a warm squeeze, she was touched.
‘See you on Thursday then, Janet,’ Carol De Ville told her, and it was such a blatant dismissal that Janet was suddenly very glad indeed she hadn’t bought another baguette to replace the one she’d dropped.
In fact, as she gave John a little wave and made for the door, she found herself wishing she had shoved the slimy mess she had mopped from Estelle’s shoe back between the French bread. And hung around to watch Carol take a bite out of it.
Smiling to herself at the image, Janet got into her car and drove home to get changed. All Janet’s life her mother had been over house proud, keeping her home scrubbed to within an inch of its life, but during those last months of lingering illness, the dust had inevitably begun to pile up.
Just as Janet was on her way upstairs to find her old jeans, there was a knock at the door. When she opened it to find Gwen standing on her doorstep, Janet didn’t feel very surprised. She wished she had the nerve to say, ‘Gwen! How are your primulas?’ But in any case, Gwen didn’t give her the chance to talk.
‘Janet,’ she said, coming straight to the point. ‘You’ve been avoiding me ever since Friday.’
‘No, I– ’
‘Don’t bother to deny it.’ Gwen was inside the house and walking straight past Janet up the hallway and into the lounge before Janet could do anything about it. Sighing, Janet followed her, watching as Gwen strolled around the room inspecting everything the way she always did when she came round. Checking for what? Dust? Expense or otherwise of ornaments? Taste? ‘You practically ran into the house with your shopping on Saturday to avoid speaking to me,’ Gwen went on. ‘I thought you were going to do yourself an injury.’
Bored by the ornaments, Gwen lounged, uninvited, on the sofa; crossing her legs in their tailored trousers. Trousers that – Gwen would no doubt be horrified to know - clearly showed a visible panty line.
‘Well–’
‘And what I want to know is, how long you intend to persist with this madness. I really don’t know what Ray would think. I’m presuming you haven’t told him about it?’
Janet fiddled with her necklace. ‘Oh, you wouldn’t tell him, would you, Gwen?’ she said, panicking.
Gwen smiled, gratified. ‘Hit a nerve, have I?’ she said, and Janet flushed.
‘I haven’t told him yet as it happens,’ she admitted. ‘It’s… a surprise.’
One of Gwen’s immaculately eyebrow-pencilled eyebrows lifted. ‘Oh? So you’re doing it for him, are you?’ she said.
‘Well, yes.’ Was she?
Gwen’s expression changed to one of concern. ‘I had no idea you and Ray were having such problems. You poor dear. You should have told me!’
‘Well– ’ Were they?
‘But you don’t seriously think that…that…woman is going to be able to help you, do you?’ Gwen laughed. ‘She’s a joke, darling! Even you must see that!’
It was the ‘even you’ that finally did it. Janet took a deep breath and lifted her chin. ‘Look, Gwen,’ she said, ‘I’m running late. I only came home to get changed. I really must ask you to go.’
Gwen sighed. ‘Janet, don’t be offended. I didn’t mean… Look, you have to admit, you can be a tad on the naïve side on occasion…’ But when Janet just stood there with her arms folded, not replying, Gwen finally sighed again, uncrossing her legs and standing up. ‘Oh, all right then,’ she said, ‘I’ll go. But don’t think for one minute you’ve heard the last of this. I can’t just sit back and let one of my oldest friends get sucked into some kind of…sect, now can I?’
‘Well,’ said Janet, ‘should I find myself at the risk of b
eing brainwashed, you’ll be the first to know, OK?’
When Gwen gave an indignant sniff and took herself off, Janet almost felt like punching the air. Yes! She had actually stood up to Gwen! Unfortunately, her bravado only lasted until she reached her mother’s bungalow on the edge of town. Sitting in her parked car outside the bungalow, Janet looked bleakly through the window. She’d been dreading this, but Ray was right. She needed to get it done so they could put the house on the market. Then they could pay their mortgage off with the proceeds. Maybe then Ray wouldn’t have to work such long hours and they’d be able to spend more time together. And if the workshops paid off, maybe some of that time could be in bed, in the throes of passion…
‘You? In the throes of passion?’ Janet could almost hear her mother say to her. ‘What d’you think marriage is? A Mills and Boon novel?’
Janet got out of her car and walked up the crazy-paved pathway to the front door, carrying her mother’s voice inside her head. ‘And another thing! What do you think you’re doing, going along to that filthy workshop? It’s degrading and pathetic. And you’d better not even think of taking your knickers off in public, my girl!’
Janet opened the front door with her key and stepped inside. The house still had its distinctive smell of lemongrass and furniture polish, although they were fading now, becoming eased out by the musty odour of unused rooms.
Janet shut the front door behind her and took a roll of black bin liners from her bag. ‘You’re too late, Mother,’ she said out loud. ‘I’ve already done it. On Sunday! So there!’
Seven
‘Anyway, by the time I came out of church, the wind had got up.’ Before the start of the next workshop, Janet was describing her adventures the previous Sunday to Reenie.
‘There was the vicar waiting outside to shake everybody’s hand, but I was clinging onto my skirt for dear life in case it blew up and showed the rest of the congregation everything.’
Reenie smiled, but there was something a bit distant about her expression and Janet suddenly wondered if Reenie thought she was showing off. She clammed up, her face going pink with embarrassment, but Reenie asked, ‘So, what did you do?’ prompting her to continue.
The Goddess Workshop Page 4