Emma wished it was as easy for adults to make friends as it was for children. Just telling Ruby that she was arranging a play date with Amy, Flora and Violet seemed to have inspired the girls to form a solid gang of besties. But Emma found the politics of adult female friendships confounding. Beth and Hanan were great. And Maggie had seemed nice at school, but was completely different here. And she couldn’t get a handle on Flic or Eve or Jools at all. She was pretty confident she wouldn’t be coming to book club again.
Chapter Twenty-Two
‘So?’ Beth said, the following morning after the school run. ‘Tell all. Did you meet the nanny? Did you take photos of the house? Did you get drunk and flash them?’
‘Almost,’ Emma said. ‘I only noticed on the way home that the pin had come out of my top and my bra was showing.’
Hanan winced. ‘And no one told you?’
The three of them had gone straight from school to Saucer and commandeered the big table in front of the window. Mohammed was asleep and Beth’s twins were engrossed in an episode of Peppa Pig on a shared iPad.
‘Right?’ Emma said. ‘But maybe they were embarrassed?’ Or she’d wondered if maybe they hadn’t noticed. But they had to have noticed, it was really showing.
‘We would absolutely tell you,’ Beth said. ‘Me and Hanan. Your real friends.’
Emma laughed. ‘I can promise I am not dumping you two for them. They weren’t even really friendly.’
‘Were they mean?’ Beth asked.
Emma shook her head. ‘No, not mean. Just … not friendly. They were fine. It was fine. But no I didn’t meet the nanny – I saw her when she came in, but Jools didn’t introduce her – and I didn’t take any photos, sorry.’
‘Well you’re rubbish,’ Beth said. ‘If you go again, you need to sneak some pics. What’s the house like?’
‘Actually gorgeous,’ Emma said. She told them about the house, about what Jools had been wearing, about Eve and Flic and Maggie.
‘You know what?’ Emma said. ‘The thing I don’t understand is all the maintenance it must take to look that good all the time. Like I expected her to be in jeans and a jumper at home, you know? But she wasn’t – everything was perfect. The others were all dressed up too. When I get home, I get into my pyjamas.’
‘She always looks perfect,’ Beth said. ‘She has lip fillers and botox and eyelash extensions.’
‘She doesn’t!’ Emma said. ‘Does she?’
Beth nodded. ‘I know a girl who works in the salon she goes to. And she had her make-up and hair done professionally before the nativity. Because the paper came.’
‘Oh my god,’ Emma said. ‘I can’t even imagine. I put lipstick on the night we went out for dinner and that was the first time since we left London. I just … Who could be bothered?’
‘I guess she’s got an image to maintain? With her husband being a footballer?’ Hanan said.
‘That’s true,’ Emma said. ‘But like I could imagine that if she was going to events and stuff with him. But just day to day? Or for the nativity?! It must be exhausting.’
Jools hadn’t been able to get out of bed. She felt like she was suffering from the world’s worst hangover, even though she wasn’t drinking, had only drunk orange juice the night before, but every part of her body ached and her temples were beating like a steel drum. It seemed to take her longer to recover after each bout of chemo. The nurse had explained that chemo sometimes works like repeatedly punching a bruise – it might seem OK at first, but it becomes more and more tender over time. Jools certainly felt tender.
Matt had argued again that Jools should give book club up, but she refused to even consider it. If she had the strength to get out bed and look in the mirror, she would see someone she didn’t even recognise. Someone small and frail, with no hair and pasty-looking skin. But if she had a reason to become the Jools Jackson people expected to see, then she wanted to do that. Because if she didn’t, who even was she?
‘Matt said the book club went well,’ Paul said, over dinner. He’d picked up a Chinese takeaway on the way home and Sam and Ruby were beside themselves with excitement.
‘Did he?’ Emma said. ‘It was OK. Better than I thought it was going to be.’
‘He said Jools is going to email you about the next one.’
He reached for a sesame prawn toast and popped it in his mouth. He’d changed into sweats and a hoodie when he got home and looked more relaxed than he had for a while. Emma liked it. It made her want to snuggle up to him. Maybe later. Once the kids were in bed. So many things had to be put off until the kids were in bed.
‘Wow,’ Emma said, reaching for the seaweed before Sam inhaled the lot. ‘I didn’t think it went well enough for them to want me to go again.’
Paul shrugged. ‘That’s what he said.’
‘Do you think it’s just because of you?’ Emma asked.
Paul shrugged. ‘Maybe?’ He had some sweet and sour sauce on his chin. Emma reached over and wiped it off with her thumb. ‘This is a big move for him. But, you know, he’s the talent. I need to keep in with him, not the other way around. Maybe she just likes you.’
‘She’s got a funny way of showing it.’
‘You know it’s hard though. When they’re well-known. They don’t know who they can trust. You remember what happened to Holly Lyons.’
Holly Lyons was the fiancée of one of the footballers Paul looked after in London. She met a woman at a club who became her new best friend. They went out one night and got drunk – at least, Holly did – and the woman took pictures of her passed out with her dress half-off, some random guy sucking on her neck, and sold them to the papers. Jack, Holly’s fiancé, dumped her and she lost a few high-profile promo contracts she’d had too.
‘I suppose so,’ Emma said. ‘But she’s got other friends. I don’t think I’ll go again. It just wasn’t my kind of thing.’
‘Oh you need to go again,’ Paul said. He was looking at his phone now and said it completely casually. Emma bristled.
‘Why?’
‘Just until the deal’s done. I don’t want to do anything to piss Matt off.’
Emma stared at him. The assumption that Emma would just go along, that she didn’t have anything better to do. That it didn’t matter if she liked these women or if the women liked her. The assumption that because it was related to Paul’s job, Emma would just go along with it. It made her feel itchy. And it kind of made her want to tell Paul where to stick it. She didn’t really fancy snuggling any more.
After dinner, after she’d cleared away the dishes, and put Ruby and Sam to bed, Emma checked her phone and sure enough there was an email from Jools. The next meeting was in a month. The book was The End of the Affair by Graham Greene. Flic had chosen it and was preparing the questions and perhaps Emma would like to think of a book to suggest next time?
Emma glanced around the room. The only book she could see was the Next Directory.
Chapter Twenty-Three
‘Did I tell you I’m going to be late tonight?’ Jim asked Maggie, as he swung his legs out of bed and stretched his arms overhead. ‘Got to go and do an estimate on that new estate.’
Maggie knew that was a lie. If it had been true, he wouldn’t have told her where he was going, what he was doing. The extra detail proved it was a lie.
‘No problem,’ Maggie said. ‘Amy’s got a friend coming round after school anyway.’
‘Is it Matt Jackson’s kid?’
Maggie tried not to sigh. ‘Kids. Yes.’
Originally Flora and Ruby were meant to be coming too, but Flora had a party and Emma had a child psychologist coming round to talk to Sam, so they’d both cancelled. Maggie felt a bit nervous about spending the afternoon just with Sofia – she really didn’t know her well at all – but she was sure it would be fine. She hoped it would be fine.
‘And his missus?’ Jim asked.
‘No. The nanny.’
‘Fucking hell, the nanny.’ He stood up and pulled down t
he shorts he slept in. Even though it was dark – it didn’t get light until almost eight now – Maggie could see his nakedness out of the corner of her eye. She wanted to pull the duvet over her face.
‘Is she as hot as the wife?’ Jim asked.
‘She’s pretty,’ Maggie said.
‘Out of my league anyway,’ Jim said, heading for the door. ‘The wife. I could probably do the nanny.’
Maggie flinched as the door bumped against the wall. Jim usually would never admit that someone was out of his league.
She’d always been a bit like that. When he’d hurt her in the past, she’d cried, maybe talked to a friend, and then pushed it to the back of her mind because there was nothing she could do about it was there, unless she was prepared to leave him. And nothing had been quite bad enough to end their marriage over. Until now. Now people would understand. In fact, people would judge her for staying with him. The fact that he had had an affair was a rock solid reason for leaving. Or for making him leave. But she still couldn’t seem to do it.
The girls had wanted to go to Victoria Park, so Maggie and Sofia walked along the prom behind them as they careered about on their scooters. It was a dull day, the sky constantly threatening rain, not that the girls cared. Halfway along Marine Lake, they stopped to watch the seagulls swooping, so Maggie and Sofia sat down on a bench and looked over towards Wales.
‘What’s Jools up to this afternoon?’ Maggie asked. Sofia had been doing the school run more than Jools lately and while Maggie was always happy to see her, she wondered why Jools had disappeared.
‘She’s in Liverpool,’ Sofia said. ‘I don’t know what for.’
‘What’s it like working for her?’ Maggie said, glancing over at the girls to make sure no one was listening. ‘She can be quite … particular.’
‘She’s not,’ Sofia said. ‘Not really. There’s a lot you don’t know …’
Maggie instantly felt guilty. ‘I’m sure. I’m sorry. She just … I thought she might be quite difficult.’
Sofia shook her head. ‘I can’t say anything. But she’s got a lot on her plate. Is that the right expression?’
Maggie nodded. She wanted to ask more. She wanted to ask if something was wrong with Jools and Matt’s marriage. If something was wrong with Matt. Maggie loved and hated Jools and Matt’s relationship equally. She believed they were madly in love. And she envied them. But they seemed so perfect that she half-suspected it was all an act. And she also knew herself well enough to know that if Matt left, if they weren’t so perfect after all, Maggie would be secretly at least a little happy.
‘We should change the subject,’ Sofia said. ‘How are you?’
Maggie shrugged. ‘I’m fine.’
She was always fine. Or at least, she always told herself – and other people – she was fine.
‘Nothing interesting about me.’
‘Don’t say that,’ Sofia said. ‘I think you’re interesting.’ She bumped Maggie with her shoulder and Maggie’s stomach fluttered. She turned to look at her, squinting into the sun.
Sofia was staring at her with this gentle expression that made Maggie feel self-conscious, like Sofia knew Maggie’s insides. Maggie didn’t even know Maggie’s insides. Maggie tried to look back, but she had to look away. Because Sofia was beautiful. Not in a shiny, startling way like Jools. She wasn’t someone you’d see and instantly exclaim, but the more Maggie looked at her, the more beautiful she seemed. The sprinkle of freckles on her cheekbone, her wide hazel eyes, even her perfectly-shaped eyebrows. Maggie had to draw her own eyebrows in with a pencil every morning – she envied Sofia her eyebrows. But it wasn’t just that Sofia was beautiful, she was also kind. She gave Maggie her full attention. She was gentle and tender with Jools’s daughters, always stopping whatever she was doing if they needed her. Maggie constantly felt as if she was too distracted around Amy – sometimes she was too distracted by Amy to actually focus on what Amy needed from her – Amy was kinetic. She reminded Maggie of Jim.
‘Do you ever go out for a drink?’ Sofia asked. ‘In the evenings?’
Maggie nodded, even though she hadn’t, for ages. ‘Sometimes.’
‘We could do that one day maybe?’
‘Yes. Definitely. I’d love that.’
Chapter Twenty-Four
‘It’s nothing to worry about,’ the child psychologist, whose name was Wendi, said from Emma’s kitchen table. ‘This kind of thing is very common.’
She’d already seen Sam at school and had told Emma that it had gone ‘very well’, but without giving any further details. Emma had asked Sam about it too, but apart from the fact that Wendi had shown him a ‘bag of shapes’ and some photos of dogs, she hadn’t got anything out of him.
‘How many words would you say he has?’ Wendi asked now, as Emma made them both a cup of tea.
‘Like … lots?’ Emma said, feebly. ‘Too many to count, certainly.’
‘Was he a late talker?’
Emma nodded. ‘He was almost three before he said anything at all. But then he started talking in almost full sentences, so …’
‘Mama,’ Ruby interrupted. ‘Can you help me with my reading book?’
‘Not right now, pickle,’ Emma said, ushering her daughter back out of the room. ‘Mama’s a bit busy right now. I can help later.’
‘Can you give me an example?’ Wendi asked once Ruby had gone. ‘Of Sam’s speech.’ She wrote something down in her notebook.
‘Um, well, his first sentence was “more ’am”’, Emma said. ‘Ham.’ She smiled at the memory. Sam had been so bloody proud when he’d first started talking and Emma and Paul and even Ruby had got so used to him not talking that it was like hearing a cat speak. For ages, whenever Sam said anything, Ruby would say ‘Did Sam just talk?!’ It took a long time for the novelty to wear off.
‘Have you had his hearing tested?’ Wendi asked now, as Emma brought the teas over to the table and sat down opposite.
‘Um … only the standard tests. At the health centre. Do you think that’s necessary?’
Wendi smiled over her glasses. ‘Just something to consider.’
Ruby appeared again. She was still wearing her full uniform and looked as pristine as she had that morning.
‘Mama? Have you seen my pencils? I’ve got to—’
‘I’m busy right now, sweetheart,’ Emma said again. ‘And all I would do is look for them so I’m sure you can go and look for them yourself. They’re probably in your bedroom.’
Ruby stood in the doorway, twisting the hem of her school cardigan in her hand. ‘OK. It’s just that we have to—’
‘Rubes,’ Emma interrupted. ‘I know. I’m just talking to Wendi at the minute.’
‘Won’t be much longer,’ Wendi said, smiling at Ruby.
Ruby nodded, a little frown line appearing between her eyebrows, before she headed off to her bedroom.
‘Sorry,’ Emma said. ‘She gets quite wound up about her homework. Has to do it as soon as she gets in.’
Wendi nodded and glanced down at her notebook. ‘Have you had any concerns about Sam’s hearing?’
‘No,’ Emma said. ‘Not at all. I mean, if I opened a packet of biscuits in here now, he’d come running down from his room, I’m pretty sure.’ She pushed her chair back. ‘Actually, would you like a biscuit? I—’
‘No, I’m good thank you,’ Wendi said.
Emma shuffled her chair back in again.
‘I’ll just ask you a few more questions and then if we can bring Sam in?’
Wendi’s questions lasted as long as it took Emma to finish her tea, but she felt guiltier and like a worse parent with every single one. She couldn’t remember when Sam had first had jabs. When he’d had chicken pox – she thought it was the first couple of months of preschool, but she couldn’t be sure. She had no idea where his red medical book had got to and even struggled to remember his birth weight, which seemed ridiculous, since it was one of the things everyone asked about when you had a baby, even thou
gh it was basically meaningless.
‘I’m sorry,’ she said, eventually. ‘I don’t know what’s happened to my memory lately.’
‘Baby brain,’ Wendi said. Emma hated that expression. And Sam wasn’t even a baby. He was five. ‘Happens to the best of us. Do you want to go and get Sam?’
It took Sam three trips from his room to the kitchen before he was satisfied he had enough to divert him while Wendi questioned and assessed him. Emma had told him it was just a chat, but he wasn’t daft, he knew Wendi was watching him. He’d brought a Fireman Sam truck, helicopter and drill tower with accompanying figures; an enormous one-eyed Minion that Paul had won in the work’s raffle last Christmas; and a Play-Doh cupcake maker. He started on the cupcakes as Wendi asked him about school and his friends.
Emma was enormously relieved when he answered. He didn’t look up at Wendi and most of his responses were mumbled into his chest, but he was talking at least. When Wendi asked him about the drill tower he got quite animated and subjected her to a gruesome story of someone being burned at the top of a multi-storey car park because a helicopter couldn’t land.
‘Where have you heard that?’ Emma asked him, appalled.
‘On the news,’ Sam said, shrugging. ‘In the morning.’
‘When in the morning?’ Emma asked. As far as she knew, neither Sam nor Ruby ever watched the news. Why would they when they had Disney and Pixar’s entire output on DVD?
‘I don’t know,’ Sam said. ‘But firefighters fought back the flames.’
Wendi made a note in her book. Emma hoped it was about the unintentional assonance of Sam’s last sentence and not her neglect in letting him watch inappropriate television shows.
For about twenty minutes, Wendi chatted with Sam while he played. Ruby also visited a few more times, once on the verge of tears because she hadn’t been able to find her pencils. Sam seemed happy enough so Emma went up to Ruby’s room and found her pencils immediately on the window ledge.
The Bad Mothers’ Book Club Page 13