Dying to Be Slim

by Abby Beverley

  Already this morning, she had sorted out the domestics and shopped online for some of the bits that Max had requested plus some new summer clothes for Skye (it was getting warmer and there was no way she’d fit into last year’s wardrobe). Additionally, Marnie had booked a doctor’s appointment although she was pretty sure that her vaccinations were up-to-date.

  She still needed to speak to the neighbours to see if they’d look after Terence the hamster again and she still needed to make an appointment for her nails to be redone, as well as her eyebrow and eyelash tint. She also wanted to check her accounts and sort out her car insurance, which was due to expire while she was away. She’d had a letter from the optician but that could wait.

  On top of that, Skye had been invited to little Katie’s party on the Friday which meant buying a gift and card, preferably with Skye in tow so that she could choose it. Plus she needed to make transportation arrangements, since Katie’s parents lived in the middle of nowhere. Neither Mam nor Jakey had ever learnt to drive which had always been inconvenient – not that Mam would be able to drive now, of course.

  Oh, and it was Tina’s birthday next Tuesday so that was one other card she needed to buy. She could probably pick up an interesting gift in Cape Verde or, failing that, just buy her a bottle of duty-free gin on the way home. No, she couldn’t do that now that Tina was expecting. Perhaps perfume then?

  Why did everything always come at once?

  Marnie had dropped Skye off late to nursery and had already sent a text to Morgs to say that she was running an hour behind schedule. She had agreed to cut Morgan’s hair during a phone conversation on Sunday and was determined not to break the engagement. She also needed some precious grumbly time with Morgs, especially after seeing that awful magazine article yesterday.

  Morgs and Tina were Marnie’s best friends. She had known Tina since primary school and, even before Tina had married Mikey, they had called themselves sisters. Morgs was a different kind of friend but, in many ways, they were just as close.

  She’d first met Morgan Smith in the salon on Church Street. Marnie started as a Saturday girl in A Cut Above when she was just sixteen, before going on to the College of Further Education to get her hairdressing qualifications. She’d stayed at the salon while she trained because it brought in a few pennies, was close to home and the atmosphere was so fantastic. Marnie remembered those days at the salon with great fondness. She’d absolutely loved the people she worked with and they’d all had such a laugh. The customers would jig around to the latest sounds and join in with the general hilarity. Even the guys from the chip shop next door would pop round while the fryers heated up – just to hang out and chat. They all loved the zany sense of humour that Morgs brought to work every day and, as senior stylist, Morgs was the one that everyone booked in with. Marnie had emulated Morgs whenever she could in terms of fashion and fun; work ethic and wit.

  A couple of years down the line, Morgs realised that there was more money to be made in the city and, since Marnie had qualified the previous year, she followed. They spent several years sharing a scruffy little bedsit, having a giggle every day at the salon where they both worked, and uproariously enjoying life (as far as their meagre budgets would allow). Then tragedy struck.

  Morgan’s parents were killed in a horrific motorway accident that wasn’t their fault. Marnie stuck by her friend’s side and helped alleviate some of the pain by providing a shoulder to cry on and taking on some of Morgan’s customers as well as her own.

  Marnie was consoling Morgs in a pub, when Gav had come in with a group of mates. She hadn’t even picked up on the chemistry between them at first but, when Gav started looking for excuses to see his sister whenever possible, she realised that it was Morgan’s company he was really seeking, not hers.

  Morgan and Gavin became inseparable and their bond strengthened. Time became the great healer, his cool hand soothing away the sharp edges of Morgan’s sadness. The compensation probably helped, as well as the sale of the London townhouse that had been the parental home. There were also several rental properties which Morgan sold to finance their new venture: a chain of salons across the north of England. Morgan was the owner of Hair Design By Morgan, of course, but Marnie had assisted by overseeing the management of several salons.

  Morgs bought Marnie a gorgeous city apartment as a ‘token of appreciation’ when Gav had decided it was time for both hairdressers to move out of their shabby bedsit. Gav and Morgs moved into an apartment in the same block as Marnie, so it was a gentle transition for all concerned.

  Three years later, just before Gav and Morgs had decided to make their next move to The Willows, their beautiful home on the fringes of Bilberrymoor, Marnie had discovered she was pregnant.

  Having Skye changed things for her considerably and, moving away from regular hours, Marnie had become involved in hair and make-up for the film industry. She had made a great many contacts in the city and, although some of the films she worked on were rather erotic in nature, it didn’t matter to her as long as she was getting paid. The work was intermittent but she had done well enough for money over the years to keep herself and Skye in the little luxuries that made life fun.

  Marnie knew that she would probably go back to managing salons for Morgs, once Skye started at school full time, but they hadn’t discussed anything yet. Morgs would already know it was on the cards; they knew each other that well. There was no doubt in Marnie’s mind that Morgs was waiting for her to broach the subject when she was good and ready.

  Marnie pulled her car up onto the steep driveway of The Willows and double-checked that the handbrake was on. The house was a traditional brick design but massive windows, hidden behind three great willow trees in the front garden, gave it a contemporary feel.

  The house had the appearance of being a bungalow but since it was built on a steep hill, the ground floor contained stairs that went down to the bedrooms below. This meant that the ground floor contained the living areas, with expansive views across the beautiful countryside round the back.

  Morgs answered the door with a big grin.

  He was tall and lean with a neatly clipped beard. Below the outer corner of his right eye, was a perfectly round mole. Rather than take from his looks, it seemed to enhance them.

  “Sorry I’m so late,” called Marnie from the driveway. She dragged her hairdressing tool kit out of the car and slammed the boot shut.

  Morgs jumped down the steps to the driveway and took the kit off her.

  “Thanks,” she smiled, kissing him first on one cheek, then the other.

  “Anything for a lady!” Morgs laughed and they linked arms as they walked back up the steps to the front door.

  Morgs put the tool kit down in the hall and looked at himself in the mirror.

  “See this, my darling,” he said, pointing to his fringe. “Far too curly and floppy! People will think I’m gay!”

  Marnie laughed, reached up and tugged his fringe gently.

  “You? Surely not! Come on, you can get me a cuppa first before I start to straighten you out!”

  “That you will never achieve!” smiled Morgs, waggling his finger and closing the front door.

  Marnie followed him through to the kitchen. As she did so, she had the strangest feeling that she was being followed. She turned around but there was nobody in the hallway.

  “Has Tina called you yet?” she asked Morgs.

  “No need to, darling. Gav and I saw her in the supermarket Monday night with Mikey!”

  “At last Skye is going to have a cousin to play with! I think it’s fabulous news,” gushed Marnie.

  “Hmmm…” Morgs stroked his short, stylish beard.

  “What do you mean, ‘hmmm’…?”

  “Oh, nothing. You know me, darling. I’m just jealous!” Morgs smiled but Marnie got the feeling that he was covering something up. Surely it couldn’t be anything to do with Tina? Marnie had a much closer friendship with Tina than Morgs did. Tina would always go to Marnie f
irst if anything was wrong, after Mikey of course. Mikey was more the sort to bottle things up; he certainly would never talk to Gav and Morgs about anything deeper than sport, music or real ale.

  “Is Gav out all day working?” Marnie asked Morgs, changing the subject.

  “He’s gone to visit a friend today who’s in a bit of a fix. He’ll be back in about half an hour sweetie. Until then, it’s just you and me and a brew or three!”

  Marnie walked over to the bi-folding glass doors that led out onto the viewing deck. Although it was fairly sunny out, they were closed.

  “Did you want to sit outside Marns?”

  “No, it’s OK. I’ll pop out for a ciggy in a bit – it does seem warm today. But it’s cosier in here.” To make her point she sat down on a leather two-seater settee that was strategically placed at the end of the open plan kitchen-diner to take in the view. She kicked off her shoes and pulled her long legs up, crossing them beneath her as easily as a child.

  Morgs brought two steaming mugs of tea over and placed them on the long coffee table in front of Marnie. To give her some space, he sat on a single leather recliner positioned next to the other end of the settee and stuck his feet up on his side of the coffee table.

  “So… tell your Uncle Morgs all about it,” he commanded gently, playing with his engagement ring.

  “Well,” began Marnie. “I went round to do Mam’s hair yesterday. She was asleep when I arrived and then she woke up in a right old mood.”

  “Sounds like Gav after a night on the tiles,” commented Morgs.

  “No, she was being really weird. Very down, very needy. A bit snappy. Not her usual self at all.”

  “Medication?” asked Morgs.

  “Possibly,” agreed Marnie, “but she said she’d been dreaming. Started going on about Bills and how she was being bullied at school and it was all down to her.”

  “Do you think there’s any truth in that then?”

  “I certainly do! I accidentally knocked over some stuff on the table she has next to her chair. I was looking for her mobile phone so I could charge it up for her. A magazine fell on the floor and in it there was an article with a big picture of Mam spread across the page.”

  “Oooh, nasty! Not your mam obviously. I mean from Billie’s point of view.”

  “Yes. But it was worse. There was a photo of Billie and a photo of Skye! Skye! Can you believe she’d do that? Sell the whole family out that way?”

  “She’s a desperate lady, Marns. Desperate people do desperate things.”

  “Desperate? How do you mean?”

  “She’s an attention seeker. I saw that straight away the first few times I met her. You know, when I was playing Rob – man of mystery!”

  “Oh yes, that was another thing. She kept going on about how she’d only met Rob a couple of times and how Skye never mentions her other grandparents.”

  “We didn’t think far enough ahead there, did we my darling?” said Morgs, scratching his beard thoughtfully.

  “It seemed as though we were doing the right thing at the time,” sighed Marnie dolefully.

  “Ah well, I have to hope she forgets what Rob her son-in-law looks like so that I can become Morgan, her new son-in-law!”

  “Fat chance of that! She has a picture of us both on her photo shelf. The one where I’m in a wedding dress and you’re holding Skye. You didn’t have a beard then but your beauty spot gives you away, I’m afraid.”

  “Ha, well, I’m not having it removed. It’s my personal trademark, don’t you know? Any chance you could nick the photo?”

  “You’re joking! She lives in that room! The only time she leaves it is for bathroom time.”

  “Well, in that case, we may have to own up to our dastardly doings. It won’t be long before Skye blows our cover anyway. She’s always called me Uncle Morgs. I’m surprised she’s not pointed to the photo and told your mam my real name already!”

  “You’re right – we should tell her. I was kind of thinking the same myself. Perhaps we’ll wait for her to regain her usual good spirits though.”

  “If you don’t mind me saying so, Marns…”

  “Go on…”

  “It was a crackpot idea in the first place. Why didn’t you just say that you didn’t know who Skye’s daddy was?”

  “I don’t know. I guess she just seemed so proud of everyone. Family pride was all she had keeping her positive and focused on the future. She’d just gone over the thirty stone mark when I had Skye. I felt so sorry for her. I still do.”

  Marnie let out a sob and Morgs sprang from his chair to the vacant space on the two-seater, his arms around her, stroking her hair, rubbing her back.

  “Caught you!” said a deep voice entering the kitchen.

  “Ignore him, sweetie,” crooned Morgs.

  Morgs must have indicated that all was not well because Gav sprang over and squashed onto the end of the settee next to his sister.

  “Thanks guys. You’re both the best, you know that?”

  Morgs and Gav looked lovingly at each other. They knew that alright!

  22

  Wednesday

  STARLA

  Starla sat on one of the kitchen barstools watching her daughter, her son and the man she thought was her son-in-law, Rob, but who was actually her son-in-law-to-be, Morgan.

  A mixture of emotions ran through her.

  She had been conned by Marnie and this Morgs fella. Gav hadn’t told her the truth about his relationship and, for the third time in two days, she found herself questioning the paternity of a grandchild although, unlike the other two, Skye was already born, breathing and bouncing around.

  Now Marnie was in tears because she’d done something wrong for the right reasons.

  And there was Gav and his partner loving her and making her feel better, which made Starla feel proud on top of the anger she felt at being deceived.

  “Come on, Marns. You can’t beat yourself up about this forever,” said Morgan soothingly.

  “I know,” Marnie sighed, wiping her eyes, “I just know that it’ll rip Mam to bits when she finds out that I’ve been lying all these years. And she’ll want to know who Skye’s father really is. I can’t keep lying to her but she’ll go mental when she finds out.”

  “Forget Mam!” exclaimed Gav, “Skye will be asking questions soon enough herself!”

  “And you’ll have to tell her the truth, sweetie,” said Morgan, still rubbing Marnie’s back.

  Starla listened, trying not to bristle at Gav’s suggestion that her reaction be dismissed in favour of Skye’s. However, she would happily be forsaken a thousand times over, if it meant that her little granddaughter could grow up balanced, happy and informed. She had been the same age as Skye when her mother had walked out and, although she had received no answers from her father, she clearly remembered firing questions at him over and over again. Eventually she’d given up and turned her questions into rhetorical ones that chipped away at her self-esteem. The experts would no doubt say that this had helped her embark upon her sugar-overloaded journey to obesity.

  Evidently, she was in for yet another shock if finding out about Skye’s father was going to send her ‘mental’.

  Starla’s eyes wandered around the kitchen as she sat in it as an invisible guest. It was very shiny and clean – evidently no baking occurred in this room. Jakey would have a field day if he saw it. He’d have pans on the flat wipe-clean hob and sugary smells would be coming from the grand modern ovens in next to no time! Ovens, plural! Who would have thought so many ovens would be needed in a kitchen that wasn’t attached to a restaurant?

  Starla could see that this house was truly amazing! All of her children had said it was. She’d seen photographs but the pictures didn’t do it justice at all. She had no idea that Gav and his partner were so rich! Gavin must be doing well with his career. He had always been ambitious. She had always known that one day he’d make her proud.

  Finding the house hadn’t been the challenge she thoug
ht it would be. A large location map, situated just outside Bilberrymoor Station, gave her directions to Picton Place and it had only taken about twenty minutes to walk there. As she neared her destination, Starla could see that the area was becoming increasingly rural. The pavements gave way to grass verges and the houses were set further back with longer driveways and front doors that whispered wealth and splendour through their grand wisteria-clad porches.

  Upon reaching Picton Place, a cul-de-sac which only contained about seven homes, Starla identified the house that looked most like the one in the photographs she’d seen. Willow trees tried to hide the house but Starla crept between them to gaze up at the property. It was a long double-fronted bungalow with huge glass windows. One word popped into Starla’s head: ‘magnificent’! This was truly a magnificent place to live!

  As she had stood gaping at the house, Marnie’s white Peugeot had entered the cul-de-sac and swung onto the steep driveway. The front door of the magnificent house duly opened and out of it stepped a familiar-looking man, smiling.

  Marnie alighted from her vehicle and went straight to the car’s boot, shouting something to the man at the front door about being late. She pulled her hairdressing kit from the boot and the man ran down some steps to help her carry it. Marnie kissed him on both cheeks and they entered the house, laughing.

  Starla stole into the house behind them and crept into the vast hallway to stand next to a modern take on the old-fashioned hat stands that you saw in the black and white movies.

  The man, whom she now knew to be Morgan (aka Rob) studied himself in the mirror and commented on his hair.

  Marnie had laughed, tugging his fringe gently.

  They shared another joke and Morgan closed the front door right next to where Starla stood, frozen.

  Since then, she had followed them into the kitchen and sat on a stool at the expansive marble breakfast bar listening to their conversation. Starla was dismayed to hear about the web of deceit that Marnie had woven and the sadness it had subsequently yielded. She wanted to jump over to her daughter and tell her that it didn’t matter but, at the same time, she wanted to give her a hearty slap for lying. She also wanted to demand some answers about Skye’s parentage but knew that she would have to wait for Marnie to reveal this information. It might be a long wait by the sounds of things – possibly forever.