The Goddess Workshop

by Margaret K Johnson

  Through the window Kate could see a satellite TV station van arriving. Geoff’s head was going to swell so much there could soon be a real danger of his baker’s hat not fitting him any longer.

  ‘Well, get some oranges out of the cold store,’ she dismissed the student irritably. Why didn’t they ever, ever use their own initiative? God help the restaurants that employed any of them. Most of them were well and truly hung-over today anyway; they’d all been out celebrating the engagement of two first-year students. Engagement. At age seventeen. Sheer bloody madness.

  ‘Hey!’ shouted a student excitedly. ‘It’s the Norwich City Football Club team!’

  Kate looked out of the window again. Sure enough, the Norwich City Football Club coach was just pulling up. Geoff had said he would try to get them to come and support the event, and it looked as if he’d swung it. As she watched the Principal practically elbowing Geoff out of the way to shake hands with Delia Smith, the football club’s chairman and famous TV chef, Kate noticed two policemen standing discreetly to one side, checking that the growing crowd stayed orderly. One of them was Ian, her ex-husband.

  ‘Bloody hellfire!’

  ‘What’s up, Miss?’

  Kate realised all of the students were looking at her. Several were giggling.

  ‘All right,’ she snapped. ‘That’ll do. Get on with your chopping.’

  On impulse she snatched up the walkie-talkie and took it into the neighbouring classroom, closing the door behind her. Looking out of the window, she pressed the button to speak. ‘Jelly Production calling Project Control.’

  The walkie-talkie crackled into life. ‘This is Project Control,’ Geoff said. ‘Go ahead, Jelly Production.’

  ‘The tall, blond cop with the sticking-out Adam’s apple,’ she said. ‘That’s my ex. Don’t trust the slimy bastard as far as you can throw him.’

  There was a crackling silence from the walkie-talkie. In the car park, Geoff turned towards the catering block, flapping his hands up and down warningly. Too late Kate realised that everyone within a few metres of Geoff, including the Principal, Delia and no doubt Ian himself, had heard what she’d said.

  ‘Fuck!’ she said, realising – once again too late – that she had depressed the button, once again making her voice audible to all.

  ‘Over and out, Jelly Production,’ Geoff said, and as her walkie-talkie fell silent, Kate saw the Principal excuse herself to Delia before beginning to walk towards the entrance to the catering block.

  Oh, shit. She was dead meat.

  * * * * *

  Reenie and Ted were attempting to make a Big Effort. It was their wedding anniversary, and they were celebrating it the way they always did. Ted had taken the day off and they were having lunch out, just as if they hadn’t spent most of the time since the ankle-in-the-attic incident tiptoeing around each other.

  So far the Big Effort wasn’t going very well. The meal – in an Italian Restaurant – had been a quiet affair. Normally Reenie would have kept Ted entertained with little observations about the other people in the restaurant or chattered on about family things. At least once during the meal they would have got the giggles about something or other and Reenie would have had to wipe her eyes on her napkin.

  But today Reenie didn’t feel either chatty or giggly, and as for the other people in the restaurant, she couldn’t care less about any of them. Deep down she was still angry with Ted, and that anger kept on leaking out, corroding any good intentions she might have. Whenever she said anything that wasn’t about the subject foremost in her mind, Reenie felt like a fraud, and she wasn’t used to feeling that way. Ted seemed to think his feelings and coping strategies, his grief; were all more important than anyone else’s, and they weren’t. Ever since Craig’s death, they’d all had to keep their pain bottled up because Ted couldn’t cope with it. But hiding things away just wasn’t helping her, or the girls.

  For Reenie, that afternoon in the attic had been a turning point, and she just wouldn’t, couldn’t pretend any longer. No matter what that might mean for her marriage.

  ‘Fancy going for a drink on the way home?’ Ted asked after he’d paid the bill. They always went for a drink on the way home from their anniversary lunch. It was another tradition. Reenie didn’t know why he was bothering to ask her.

  She smiled stiffly. ‘Why not?’ At least it would delay the evil moment when they were alone together without the sound of other people’s conversations to mask their silence.

  The Red Cow was on the Norwich Road, at the edge of the council estate. The Nelson was closer to home, but Louise Block’s family and friends always used the Nelson. Or rather, they usually used the Nelson, because as Reenie and Ted walked into the Red Cow, they saw them – a whole table of Blocks, finishing off a meal.

  ‘Well, look who it is,’ Carl Block, one of Louise’s two brothers said to the rest of the group, putting down his knife and fork to stare aggressively at Ted.

  Ted came to an abrupt halt. ‘Come on, love,’ he said, ‘let’s go.’

  Reenie hitched her bag further onto her shoulder and walked on her crutches straight past him towards the bar. ‘No,’ she said. ‘We’re staying.’

  * * * * *

  ‘…Keep your personal life at home…’ ‘…a high profile event such as this…’ ‘…no example to set to impressionable young students…’

  Blah, blah, bloody blah.

  After the Principal had finally completed her dressing down, Kate watched her walk away down the corridor, her slim, affronted bum moving from side to side beneath her size ten, tailored suit.

  Stupid bitch.

  The woman had been married since 19 fucking 96. What did she know about a lust for revenge that was so strong it was like it was tattooed on your soul? So strong it caused you deliberately to cock up any chances for happiness that happened to fall your way?

  Kate wished suddenly and very fiercely that the Principal – and every other smug married sod on the planet – would experience, if only for twenty-four hours, the searing pain of betrayal; the arctic reality of simultaneously losing your best friend and the partner you thought you would be with until you died. See if she wouldn’t want to grab the nearest walkie-talkie to spout poison into after that!

  Stomping her way furiously back to the kitchen, Kate was surprised to find, not the anarchy she had expected, but a pile of chopped fruit and the sympathetic glances of her students who, she realised, must have heard every single word of the Principal’s dressing down through the connecting door.

  ‘You all right, Miss?’

  ‘None of us like her, Miss.’

  ‘Stuck-up cow!’

  Kate knew she ought to be grateful for their support, but the truth was it was simply more than she could cope with just then. She would not, could not blub in front of her students.

  ‘Go and check on the jelly, Fisher,’ she snapped. ‘They’re going to be needing it any minute.’

  ‘Yes, Miss.’

  Martyn Fisher scurried off on his mission while the rest of them exchanged glances then kept their heads down, busying themselves with yet more fruit chopping or tidying up.

  Until, that was, Martyn returned, his face red and frightened-looking. With one look at him, Kate’s feeling of doom tripled.

  ‘What is it, Fisher?’ she asked warily, and the boy licked his lips.

  ‘It’s the jelly, Miss…’ he said. ‘It’s…melted…’

  * * * * *

  At the bar, Reenie ordered a double vodka and drank it there and then, ignoring Carl Block’s continuing taunts.

  Ted was still hovering at her shoulder. ‘Come on, love,’ he said. ‘Let’s go home.’

  ‘No,’ Reenie told him. ‘This has gone on long enough.’ And with that she picked up her crutches and hobbled over to the Blocks’ table. One seat was empty, the half-finished drink and empty plate on the table in front of it suggesting that its occupant had gone to the toilet.

  Reenie sat down. The Blocks were all so st
artled they did nothing to stop her, and seconds later Reenie was face-to-face with Thora, Louise’s mother. The last time they’d been this close had been a year ago during a slanging match in the local Co-Op. On that occasion, Thora had become totally out of control, spitting and screaming and hurling things from the shelves at Reenie until the police had been sent for. As a result, both women had been barred from the shop; an inconvenience sorely felt by Reenie, since it meant the nearest food shop was in the town centre.

  Reenie had heard on the grapevine that since then, Thora had been receiving psychiatric treatment, and certainly the woman in front of her looked a lot calmer than the harridan from the Co-Op. Though actually, calm wasn’t the right word to describe the way Thora Block looked. Tired, old and defeated were much more accurate descriptions. A lot like Reenie felt herself.

  ‘You aren’t welcome at this table, bitch!’ Carl Block persisted. ‘Fuck off!’

  ‘I will,’ Reenie said calmly. ‘After I’ve had a word with your mother.’

  ‘We’ve got nothing to say to each other,’ Thora told her blankly.

  ‘You heard her,’ Carl said. ‘Go on, piss off!’

  Someone, one of the young nephews at the end of the table, threw something – a half-eaten bread roll – in Reenie’s direction. It landed on the table in front of her, showering crumbs.

  Carl laughed. ‘Good one, Fin,’ he said, and picking up the remains of his cheesecake, tossed it straight at Reenie. His aim was better than the nephew’s – the cheesecake landed on the side of her face.

  ‘You leave her alone!’ Ted said over Reenie’s shoulder.

  Carl stood up. ‘Oh yeah?’ he said. ‘Or else what, Granddad?’

  The biscuit crust from the cheesecake fell onto the table next to the bread roll. The blackcurrant mush remained smeared on Reenie’s face.

  Encouraged by Carl’s approval, the nephew at the end of the table was searching about for more ammunition. Soon pieces of fruit and cake were being hurled enthusiastically towards Reenie up the table, quickly drawing the attention of the pub manager.

  ‘Hey, you lot,’ he said, bustling over, ‘pack it in!’ But even before he had finished speaking, a splodge of Neapolitan ice cream flicked from a spoon hit him full square in the chest.

  ‘Right!’ he said. ‘That’s it! Out, the lot of you!’

  Some, though not many, of the Blocks stood up. Reenie and Thora stayed put, eyeballing each other across the table.

  ‘Reen…’ Ted appealed to her desperately, but she shrugged his hand off her shoulder.

  ‘So,’ Thora said unpleasantly. ‘What have you got to say?’

  Reenie wasn’t sure. She hadn’t rehearsed any of this.

  ‘I said, get out!’ The bar manager yelled. ‘Now! Or I’m calling the police!’

  The police. They’d had enough of the police to last them a lifetime, them and the Blocks. Enough conflict and grief too. And pretence; above all enough pretence.

  ‘Well?’ said Thora, the sardonic twist of her lipsticked mouth daring Reenie to do her worst.

  When Reenie started speaking, she still wasn’t sure what she was going to say. Certainly not what she ended up saying, anyway. ‘It was Craig’s fault,’ she said. ‘It was Craig’s fault your Louise died.’

  * * * * *

  Kate walked slowly past the temporary swimming pool Geoff had had erected in which to assemble the record-breaking trifle. Poor Geoff. This whole idea was – and always had been – totally bloody crazy, but she knew better than most how hard he’d worked on it.

  And now, either because a careless student had left the cold store door open or, in her mixed-up frame of mind she’d somehow got the proportions of jelly to water wrong, the project seemed doomed. And she was the one who was going to have to break the bad news to him, in front of the TV people, Delia and the Norwich City Football team and, worst of all, Ian.

  By the time she reached the cement mixer, Geoff was up a ladder checking the custard with a giant ladle, smiling foolishly down at the cameras all the while.

  ‘Geoff,’ she called to him, keeping her voice deliberately quiet in a vain attempt not to attract too much attention.

  He spotted her and grinned, their recent awkwardness with each other evidently forgotten in all the excitement. ‘Jelly Production!’ he boomed at her delightedly and, out of the corner of her eye, Kate saw Ian’s mouth twitch. As she turned to glare at him, Geoff climbed down the ladder.

  ‘Ladies and gentlemen,’ Geoff announced to the media, the members of the football club and, no doubt, the viewers at home, ‘this woman is my right-hand man, so to speak! Without her talents with jelly making, there would be no trifle today!’

  Cameras clicked. Microphones were shoved in her direction. Kate closed her eyes. ‘Geoff,’ she said again, but he was still grinning foolishly at the cameras, any ability he might ever have possessed to detect trouble obliterated by his five minutes of fame.

  ‘The jelly hasn’t set,’ she whispered to him, but not quietly enough. A reporter with good hearing was onto her immediately.

  ‘What’s that?’ he said loudly. ‘Did you say the jelly hasn’t set?’

  ‘What?’ At last Geoff looked at her, quickly drawing her away from the crowd. But the crowd followed. As a fun feature for the local news, this was solid gold.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ Kate said miserably to Geoff. ‘The jelly; it hasn’t worked. It’s still liquid.’

  Geoff’s face paled. ‘Ah,’ he said, digesting this bit of bad news. Kate felt totally miserable. Before, when Geoff had been over-bouncy, he’d been irritating as hell, but now she really wanted that Geoff back again. She hated being the cause of his disappointment.

  Geoff clapped a hand onto her shoulder and gave it a reassuring squeeze. ‘Well don’t worry,’ he said kindly, trying to be upbeat. ‘These things happen.’ Fixing a smile on his face, he turned to face the media. ‘Ladies and gentlemen, I’m afraid there’s been a slight setback. The attempt to break the record will still be going ahead, but unfortunately there will be a short delay.’

  ‘How short?’ somebody asked.

  Geoff floundered. ‘Er…approximately three to four hours,’ he said.

  Only one person in the whole crowd seemed to find this news anything but annoying.

  Ian.

  Standing next to his colleague with his arms folded across his chest, he was openly smirking with amusement, and suddenly something snapped inside Kate’s head. Leaving Geoff’s side, she charged over to her ex-husband and slapped him sharply across the face.

  ‘Don’t you dare laugh at Geoff!’ she shrieked. ‘Don’t you dare! You aren’t fit to clean his boots!’ And she slapped him again.

  Ian’s colleague got hold of her and dragged her away. ‘Assaulting a police officer is a very serious offence, madam,’ he said, pulling her hands behind her back while the cameras from the local TV news hungrily filmed away. ‘You’re under arrest!’

  As he bundled her towards the police car, Geoff hurried over. ‘Leave her alone!’ he yelled.

  Not wanting him to get into trouble, Kate spoke quickly. ‘Leave it, Geoff,’ she said. And the last thing she saw as they drove her away was his big, dismayed eyes.

  * * * * *

  ‘I cannot believe I heard what I just heard in there.’ Outside the Red Cow, Ted strode furiously towards the car, not making any allowances for Reenie’s bad ankle.

  ‘It had to be said.’

  He turned on her. ‘Why? Why, for God’s sake?’

  Reenie rested for a moment. Her ankle was killing her. ‘Because it’s the truth.’

  Ted turned angrily away to unlock the car, getting in. Sighing, Reenie followed him.

  ‘You know I’m right,’ she told him, fastening her seatbelt after she’d stowed the crutches onto the back seat with difficulty.

  Angry with her, Ted had watched her struggling but hadn’t offered to help. ‘I know no such thing! He didn’t force her to go out with him, did he?’

 
; ‘We don’t know what happened, do we?’ she said. ‘We weren’t there. But we do know he was the driver.’

  ‘She’d have egged him on. She was that type.’

  ‘It doesn’t make any difference. It was his car, and he was driving.’

  ‘Oh!’ Ted started the engine and pulled away with a screech of tyres his late son might have approved of. ‘There’s no talking to you!’

  For the first time since their row at the hospital, Reenie’s eyes filled with tears. ‘Well,’ she said. ‘Now you know what it feels like, don’t you?’

  They drove – too fast in Reenie’s opinion – in silence. Reenie wiped her eyes with the backs of her hands.

  ‘I just want an end to this silly feud,’ she said. ‘I want to put the whole awful business behind us so we can move on.’

  ‘And that’s reason enough to suck up to that bitch, is it?’

  ‘Thora Block isn’t a bitch, Ted. She’s just a– ’

  ‘They’re back in there now, just revelling in it. You humiliated yourself, Reenie. I was embarrassed for you.’

  It had been an exhausting day, after an exhausting week. ‘No, you weren’t, Ted Richardson!’ she snapped. ‘It was you who you were embarrassed for. You! It’s always bloody well about you! Well, I am sick and tired of pussyfooting around you so your feelings don’t get hurt!’

  ‘Oh yes?’ Ted turned to look at her. ‘And you think I don’t have to bite my tongue to save your feelings, do you?’ he shouted. ‘Well, let me tell you, sometimes I think I’m going to bite it clean off!’

  The car was starting to veer across the road. A bus was coming.

  ‘Look out!’ Reenie shouted, but too late. There was a massive crash as the car hit the bus.

  Reenie heard the sound of a horn blaring. ‘Ted?’ she screamed, and then she fainted.

  * * * * *

  In an interview room at the police station, Kate was being reprimanded by a policeman and Ian’s friend, Clive.