‘Sorry,’ Kate said. ‘You’re having a bath or something.’
Reenie smiled, unfastening her dressing gown to give Kate a flash of – belly dancing outfit. ‘Or some-thing,’ she said. ‘But I’d just called a halt anyway. But don’t just stand there! Come on in!’
Wiping her feet carefully, Kate crossed the threshold to be welcomed into an interior that was all peach paint, plush carpets and family photos. Very Reenie.
‘You’re in luck. I was just going to put the kettle on,’ Reenie said, bustling ahead, presumably towards the kitchen.
‘I came to have a chat with Marcia actually,’ Kate told her, and Reenie instantly stopped and turned back, her face emotional.
‘Oh, Kate, that is good of you!’ she said. ‘As luck would have it the little minx happens to be in tonight, which is a very rare thing, I can tell you! Backtracking along the hall, Reenie yelled up the stairs. ‘Marcia! Somebody to see you!’
Above their heads, there was the sound of a bed creaking as someone got down from it, then footsteps. A door on the landing opened.
‘Who is it?’ Surly voiced and snaggle-haired, Marcia appeared at the top of the stairs. ‘Fuck!’ she said when she recognised Kate.
‘Less of that talk, if you please!’ Reenie told her. ‘Come on. Get down here. Kate’s come all this way specially to see you.’
‘Needn’t have bothered,’ her daughter said sulkily, but she traipsed down the stairs anyway.
Like her mother, Marcia was also wearing a dressing gown, but somehow Kate doubted whether it was concealing evidence of belly dancing activity. The girl looked ill. Ill and depressed. And suddenly, Kate was glad she’d come.
After that, it was easy. Kate had always been good at communicating with the kids she taught. Wanting to communicate was seventy percent of it. Interpreting the sulks, pouts, nail-biting and stumbled words made up the other thirty percent. Before her marriage blow up, Marcia and Stuart’s chip pan altercation would never have happened. Kate would have been on the case at the first warning signs.
Which made the whole ugly incident partly her fault.
‘I didn’t decide to do it, Miss,’ Marcia said, after a long, pouting, nail-biting pause Kate patiently waited out. ‘It just sort of happened.’
Kate nodded. ‘I can buy that,’ she said. ‘Dickhead saying hurtful things, hot chip pan close by…yes, I can buy the whole “just happening” thing. Thing is,’ she said, looking Marcia in the eye, ‘what if it had been dickhead saying hurtful things and a loaded gun close by?’
Marcia coloured and looked down.
Kate sighed and took pity on her. ‘Look,’ she said, ‘I know my arrest after I split up with my husband is common knowledge with you lot.’
Marcia looked up again, interested.
‘And I know that probably means you think I’ve got no right to tell you what you can or can’t do with hot chip pans.’ She paused for a moment, and then went on. ‘But just because I was a vengeful, stupid cow, doesn’t mean you have to be, Marcia,’ she said. ‘The Stuarts of this world just aren’t worth messing up your life for.’
Or the Ians.
Kate knew she would never forget the ensuing interview with the College Principal. Ian didn’t press charges; even he couldn’t morally do that, but the local press had a field day nevertheless. After all, it isn’t every day a scorned woman almost sets fire to the marital home by burning vengeful words onto her front lawn. The whole town knew about it in no time. Kate even found herself held in high esteem by other women who had suffered a similar fate. But none of that washed with the Principal.
‘This simply isn’t the example we want our lecturers to set to our students, Kate,’ she’d said.
She’d been right, of course, although Kate hadn’t been thinking about her students as she stood, arms folded, watching those two blazing words with intense satisfaction as Ian panicked about, alternately calling the fire brigade and trying to beat out the flames with the welcome doormat.
‘I think it was cool, Miss, what you did,’ Marcia said now, and Kate carefully hid a smile.
‘I don’t think so, Marcia. And as for what you did; if that chip fat had been any hotter, you’d be in prison by now. Really. As it is…’ Kate looked into the vulnerable dark eyes of Reenie’s youngest daughter. ‘I’ve spoken to the Principal and explained the background to…what happened. I’ve also spoken to Stuart. I don’t think he’ll give you any more trouble.’
Marcia looked sceptical at that, so Kate looked at her sternly. ‘Look, if you’re going to come back to college, Marcia,’ she said, ‘you’re going to have to put this whole thing completely behind you. Which means forgiving and forgetting. Is that understood?’
Marcia looked right back at her. ‘Is that what you’ve done, Miss?’ she said. ‘Forgiven and forgotten?’
It was a fair question, and it deserved an honest answer. ‘No,’ she said. ‘I haven’t. But I’m hoping you’ve got more strength of character than I have. Because if you have, you can come back to college.’
Marcia’s whole face lit up. It was touching really. ‘Can I, Miss?’ she said, a sudden glow wiping the surly expression right from her face.
Kate smiled. ‘But only for one month’s trial to start with, OK?’
* * * * *
‘Thank you so much, Kate!’ Reenie said emotionally when she heard the news, enveloping Kate in a fluffy dressing-gowned hug.
‘It’s only for a probationary period at first, Reenie,’ Kate said, but she might just as well have not spoken.
‘Thank you, thank you!’ Reenie said again. ‘Thank you so much! You’re a real star, you are!’
And so, when Kate walked back through the council estate towards home, that’s how she felt – like a star. Or at least, more like her old self. So it was a shame when entering the High Street that the first thing she saw was Ian in a clinch with Jennifer outside the kebab shop.
The next day at work, Kate had a hangover to end all hangovers, having gone straight from the scene of the Ian and Jennifer mega snog to the Black Horse.
At break time, Geoff brought her a giant mug of coffee and a Mars bar. ‘Look, Katie,’ he said kindly, ‘if doing these workshops is messing with your head, you can always give it up, you know. I won’t take the piss. Well, not much, anyway. And I can always give you an especially difficult word to drop into a meeting to make up for the fact that I’m still doing Beginner’s Knitting. Orgasm, maybe. Or vagina.’
Kate lifted her head from her hands for long enough to give him a look. ‘Get lost, Brannigan,’ she said.
* * * * *
The next workshop was the most risqué yet. There they were, knickers off, actually touching themselves, in front of each other! OK, the curtains were tactfully drawn and they’d taken the precaution of wedging furniture in front of the door to stop anyone coming in, but even so…
‘Remember, no direct contact just yet. Our aim here is just to tease and tantalise until your clitoris is crying out for attention.’
Kate was following Jade’s directions along with the others, even though she had absolutely zilch expectations of having an orgasm or even of becoming aroused. Mind you, she suspected the others felt exactly the same way she did. Janet had looked shocked as hell when Jade had told them all to whip their knickers off. Reenie had made some wisecrack or other, but she’d blushed scarlet while she was doing it. Even Estelle had been uncomfortable about it, for all her cool exterior. Well, who wouldn’t? Masturbating in public just wasn’t natural unless you were wearing a stained beige raincoat.
‘That’s it,’ Jade was encouraging them. ‘Now, try applying just a little more pressure.’
When the door handle suddenly began to rattle as someone tried to get into the hall, it was almost a welcome interruption.
‘Somebody’s trying to get in!’ Janet shrieked, and then all four of them were all scrabbling about for their underwear.
Pulling on her jeans as she went, Kate shunted the piled-up
pair of tables out of the way and yanked the door open. The diminutive figure of Dick Black, the caretaker, peered at her from the other side of the door.
‘What d’you think you’re playing at?’ Kate growled, enjoying the confrontation.
‘You…you can’t block a fire exit like that!’ Dick Black blustered fearfully, and then Jade was at Kate’s shoulder.
‘It’s all right, Kate,’ she said. ‘I’ll deal with this, thank you.’ And Jade manoeuvred the caretaker from the hall and out into the vestibule.
‘Well done, mate!’ Reenie said, clapping Kate on the shoulder.
‘Can you imagine if he’d got in and caught us in the act?’ Janet said, horrified.
Outside the room, Kate could hear Jade talking to the caretaker with persuasive charm. It was all too easy to imagine her ‘accidentally’ popping a button on her blouse to dazzle him with her cleavage. Jade, Kate thought, was definitely not above using feminine wiles to get what she wanted from a man. It was something she’d never done herself, and could never imagine doing either. For one thing, she would need to be a feminine kind of woman, and she had never been that.
‘Right,’ Jade said, coming back into the room, metaphorically dusting her hands. ‘He shouldn’t trouble us again. Knickers off again, ladies! We’ve got work to do!’
As she followed the others back over to the chairs, Kate thought about Geoff. He would definitely appreciate Jade’s turn of phrase. It was right up his street.
Seventeen
As she looked at her reflection in her bedroom mirror, Janet felt self-conscious in a skirt and top she’d never worn before. Estelle had helped her to pick them out on their shopping trip, but now, when she looked at herself in the mirror, Janet could hear Ray making disparaging remarks about her legs. He wasn’t around to do the same thing this evening; ever since their falling out and Debbie’s arrival back home, Ray had been taking himself off to the golf club a lot. But whether he was around or not, Janet could still hear his discouraging tone of voice loud and clear.
The top looked all right, didn’t it? Or was it a little too obvious, for someone of her age? Normally she didn’t wear red. The colour was just too attention catching. Though it did suit her, she had to admit.
Oh, it was all so difficult, this image business. And if she didn’t get a move on, she was going to be very late indeed meeting up with Estelle.
‘Bloody hell, Mum! You’re not seriously going out in that, are you?’
The moment Janet set foot in the living room, Debbie, who was sprawled on the sofa dressed in a pair of cutesy bunny-patterned pyjamas watching an ancient repeat of Who Wants to Be a Millionaire, trampled on her mother’s already flimsy self-confidence.
Janet immediately went over to the mirror to look yet again at her reflection. ‘What’s wrong with it?’ she asked.
‘Well, even I don’t wear my skirts that short,’ Debbie barged on. ‘And I’m not–’
‘All right!’ Janet interrupted, hurt.
‘Well come on, Mum,’ Debbie continued only slightly more kindly. ‘What’s got into you lately? You’re out all the time, you’re dressing like…like… And you’re not even trying to make things up with Dad!’
Janet pressed her lips together stubbornly. ‘Your father’s hardly ever in these days, in case you haven’t noticed!’ she snapped. ‘And even when he is, I don’t see him trying to make things up with me!’
‘You won’t even tell me what you’ve fallen out about!’ Debbie said accusingly. ‘And I thought you’d want to spend some time with me while I’m here!’ Debbie’s voice had turned whiny and self-pitying, and Janet slumped down onto a chair, feeling instantly guilty.
‘Debbie,’ she said, ‘it’s Saturday night. I know you’ve been ill, but you’re better now. You should be out with your friends if you’re not going to try and patch things up with Nigel.’
‘And you should be at home watching TV!’ Debbie accused.
She was probably right too. Most people of her age would be. Or at least, they wouldn’t be on their way to some trendy wine bar dressed in clothes too impossibly young for them. Maybe she ought to get changed and stay at home. After all, she didn’t want to embarrass Estelle in front of her business friends.
She might have done just that, but before she could, her new mobile phone began to ring. It was the first time it had, and the jaunty ring tone filled her with panic. It was so much more complicated to use than her old one had been, and she searched for it desperately in her handbag, anxious to shut it up.
‘And since when did you have a mobile as flash as that?’ Debbie asked, sounding scandalised.
But Janet was squinting at her phone, trying to remember what button she was supposed to press to answer a call, so she didn’t reply. In the end she took a guess, which turned out to be right.
‘It’s me,’ Estelle said on the other end of the line. ‘Just phoning to check you weren’t thinking of bottling out.’
The sound of her new friend’s voice lent Janet some much-needed courage. ‘No,’ she said resolutely, turning her back on the mirror. ‘I’m just on my way. See you in ten minutes.’
And she put the phone back in her bag and stood up, resisting the urge to pull her skirt further down towards her knees. ‘Right, I’m off then,’ she said brightly to Debbie. ‘See you later.’
Debbie stared at the TV screen, her arms folded mutinously. Janet walked past her to the door. At the very last moment, she looked back. ‘And remember,’ she said, ‘you could always phone a friend.’
It wasn’t until she had nearly reached the wine bar that she realised how the comment could have been taken, bearing in mind the programme her daughter had been watching.
* * * * *
Had her friends always been such shallow bitches, or was she just seeing them as they truly were for the first time?
In the Last Wine Bar, waiting for Janet to arrive, Estelle listened to the chatter of the other three women at the table. Marie, Rosa and Cora were all businesswomen like her; she knew them from the local Businesswomen’s Guild. Marie ran a travel agency, Rosa managed the family catering empire, and Cora was an executive for a hotel chain. All three were extremely successful in their particular fields. But had they always been so bitchy? Normally Estelle let their sniping wash over her, but tonight she listened to it properly. Anyone they knew seemed to be fair game. It wasn’t difficult to guess that this same policy would be extended both to her and to each other.
Was that what she was like herself?
When Janet appeared in the doorway, dressed in some of her new clothes and obviously nervous as hell, Estelle was pleased to see her. But she was also aware of a huge sense of responsibility. Poor Janet, she was so genuine and good. It was like throwing a lamb into a lion’s den, exposing her to this lot.
‘Janet!’ Estelle got up to kiss her, a gesture of impulsive and genuine warmth. ‘You look nice.’ It was only halfway true. The clothes suited her, yes, but Janet was sort of shrinking inside of them. Nerves, no doubt. And her make-up was a bit on the clownish side. Not to mention her hair… Estelle longed to persuade Janet to move on from her rather starchy image, but it hadn’t seemed a good idea to try to do too much at once.
But now, as she drew Janet forward to introduce her to her friends, she wished she had been a bit more insistent. The bitches were already clocking her hair and make-up dismissively.
‘Everybody,’ Estelle said, still in the same artificially bright voice, ‘this is a new friend of mine, Janet. Janet, this is Rosa, Marie and Cora.’
There were polite murmurs of greeting, and then Estelle sat Janet next to her and poured her a very large glass of wine.
‘Janet works with Carol,’ she told the others to forestall any awkward questions about how they knew each other.
‘Oh,’ said Marie. ‘Then you’re an interior designer?’
Estelle jumped in quickly before Janet could speak apologetically about her job. ‘Yes, she is,’ she said, smiling encoura
gingly at Janet.
Janet drank some wine.
‘How interesting,’ said Marie, gazing speculatively between Estelle and Janet, her shrewd mind obviously busy at work.
‘So Janet,’ Cora said. ‘What d’you think the next big design trend is going to be? Where should we all be heading?’
This time there seemed little choice but to let Janet fend for herself. Willing her not to make a complete tit of herself, Estelle waited with the others while her friend drank some more wine and finally put her glass down.
‘Belly dancing,’ she said.
Belly dancing?
‘That is, the harem. Bringing the harem right into the living room.’
Excellent!
Estelle was so pleased with the startled reactions of her friends she shot Janet a broad grin. ‘Fantastic, eh?’ she said to the others. ‘Because how many of us restrict our lovemaking to the bedroom anyway?’
There was a moment or two more of stunned silence, and then Marie began to laugh.
‘Good point,’ she said. ‘Good point.’
And suddenly everyone was laughing.
‘What about another bottle of wine?’ Estelle said, putting in an order, and then she sat back to relax, confident that everything was going to be all right.
* * * * *
If she were an interior designer, about to launch a collection inspired by the harem onto a receptive public, would she be like these women, Janet wondered? They were so well groomed. It looked as if a make-up artist had done their make-up. And their hair! It was so shiny, so well cut and styled! Not a grey hair in sight, although Marie and Rosa were older than Estelle and Cora. Had they had to learn how to look so immaculate, or had it always come naturally?
You couldn’t look at them and be in any doubt that they were highly successful women, all of them. White-toothed, perfectly manicured, carefully displaying exactly the right amount of jewellery; Janet thought they were positively terrifying. And Estelle looked right at home with them all. But Janet wasn’t afraid of Estelle. Not anymore anyway.
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