The Bad Mothers’ Book Club

by Keris Stainton

  She rummaged through her bag, but her phone wasn’t there. She remembered taking out out when she’d first arrived – to let Paul know she’d got there – and she must’ve left it on the chair.

  She stared at the door. ‘Shit. Shit shit shit.’

  Her mouth filled with saliva and she swung around, staggering again, and only just made it to the loo before throwing up. Jesus, what was the matter with her? Or what was up with the gin? She wanted to lie down on Jools’s bathroom floor and have a little nap. Instead she washed her hands, patted her face with water, and looked around for air freshener to cover the vomit smell. She couldn’t see any. She opened the cupboard under the sink and found, to her relief, mouthwash, but still no air freshener. The cupboard was crammed with stuff though. It wasn’t quite Emma’s Tupperware and crap cupboard, but it was a relief to know that not every bit of Jools’s home was as pristine as it seemed. She rummaged a bit, moving cleaning products and various other canisters out of the way, before eventually finding a bottle of Dolce & Gabbana perfume. She spritzed it lightly, hoping it would cover the smell of sick in the room and then sprayed a little on the back of her neck in case she smelled too.

  She tried the handle again, but it was still stuck. It seemed completely outrageous to Emma that it wouldn’t open. She tried hammering on it. But nothing.

  She grabbed the handle with both hands, bracing her feet against the door, leaning back with her full weight. It didn’t budge. And then her hand slipped and she staggered backwards across the bathroom, banging her head on the wall unit.

  ‘Shitting FUCK.’

  Near tears, she crossed the room again, and kicked the bottom of the door hard. The wood splintered at the same time someone opened the door from the outside.

  Jools stared at her. ‘What are you doing?’

  ‘The door,’ Emma said. ‘Sorry. I couldn’t get out. I did knock. And I shouted. My phone—’

  ‘It’s fine,’ Jools said. But she was staring at Emma like she didn’t recognise her.

  ‘My bag,’ Emma said, turning back to the sink. She saw herself in the mirror. Her hair was a mess, her face red, her lipstick smeared. She grabbed a tissue and wiped it off.

  ‘Sorry,’ she said again. ‘I’ll pay for the door.’

  As she followed Jools through the kitchen she could hear the other women talking – Eve’s voice cold and Maggie’s sounding on the verge of tears – but as soon as she appeared in the doorway they fell silent, staring at her.

  How had they not heard her shouting? Emma wondered. Surely they must have done. But if they had, they would have come and let her out. Wouldn’t they?

  Emma sat down and fumbled down the side of the sofa for her phone.

  ‘Mummy?’ One of Jools’s daughters had appeared in the doorway, blinking into the light, her face scrunched from sleep.

  ‘Did you have a nightmare?’ Jools asked.

  ‘No,’ the little girl said. ‘I just wanted to know … what’s a fucknugget?’

  ‘Where did you—’ Jools started, frowning.

  ‘Shit,’ Emma said. ‘I mean … oops.’

  ‘Please leave,’ Jools said, pink patches appearing high on her cheeks. ‘Now.’

  ‘Seriously?’ Emma said.

  ‘This really isn’t working out,’ Jools said, wincing as she bent down to pick up her daughter.

  ‘Right,’ Emma said. She couldn’t bear to look at the other women. She stood up, the backs of her thighs making a ripping sound as she peeled them off the leather sofa. She turned back for her coat, before remembering she hadn’t brought one, and then followed Jools down the hall to the front door.

  ‘I’ll see you at school, I guess—’ Emma said, but the door slammed behind her.

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  It was dark when Emma woke up. It was dark and she was too hot and her tongue was stuck to the back of her teeth. She reached for her phone, but it wasn’t on the bedside table where she usually left it. Shit. When did she last have it? She couldn’t even think. She pushed herself half up to sitting, leaning back against the pillows, and looked over at Paul. He was on his back, face crumpled, snoring gently.

  Emma’s eyes felt dry and scratchy and her neck was stiff as hell. She carefully swung her legs out of the bed and pushed herself to standing. She staggered a little and her hand slapped against the wall as she steadied herself. Paul rolled over but didn’t wake up. Emma had no clue what time it was. That was the problem with phones – everything was on there. She had no music, no camera, no alarm clock, nothing outside of her phone. Where the fuck was her phone?

  In the bathroom, she stared at herself in the mirror. She looked pale and wan, her hair sticking flat to her head – her hair had been doing a weird floppy thing lately, she really needed to find a hairdresser – a few strands caught in some drool dried on her cheek. She splashed her face with cold water and then wiped her make-up off with a baby wipe.

  Paul.

  Paul might be having an affair.

  Gin.

  Gin and she’d kicked Jools’s bathroom door open.

  And sworn in front of her kid.

  And then Jools had thrown her out.

  She gagged and lurched over the loo, bracing herself against the wall, but she wasn’t sick. Instead she coughed, spat, and then wiped her face again. Shit.

  On the way downstairs, she checked on Sam – fast asleep, one arm thrown across his face, breath smelling like chocolate milk – and on Ruby, who murmured ‘You home, Mummy?’ with her eyes tightly closed, the cuddly monkey she’d had since she was a toddler gripped firmly under her arm.

  Emma felt like shit. Physically and emotionally. She knew all about The Fear, had experienced it many times over the years, but not lately. And rarely with people she barely knew. What must the other women think of her? What must Jools think of her? And that little girl? She’d probably scared the crap out of her, kicking through that door.

  Downstairs, she flicked the kettle on and greeted Buddy, who was beside himself at a surprise middle of the night visit. Emma’s phone was on the dining table and so she was finally able to establish it was four a.m. The worst possible time to be awake, hungover, full of regret and feeling like shit.

  Emma was still sitting at the table with her third – or fourth? – tea when Paul came down. He flicked the kettle on and came to sit at the table opposite her.

  ‘So you were a bit of a mess last night.’ He grinned.

  Emma stared at him across the table. He couldn’t be having an affair. It must be something else. He just wouldn’t do that. He wouldn’t.

  ‘I don’t even remember getting home,’ she said.

  ‘Fresh air,’ Paul said. ‘Well, that and the gin.’

  ‘Fucking gin,’ Emma said, massaging her temples with the tips of her fingers.

  ‘So did you really get thrown out?’ Paul asked, getting up to make the teas.

  ‘Well,’ Emma said. ‘Not thrown out exactly. She just asked me to leave.’

  ‘Cos you kicked a door in. And spilled something? And swore at a kid?’

  ‘I told you all that?’ Emma asked.

  Paul opened the back door for Buddy and let in a blast of cold air. Emma shivered.

  ‘Yep,’ Paul said. ‘You were very chatty. And then you went upstairs for a wee and didn’t come back down. When I went up to check on you, you’d passed out.’

  ‘Ugh god. I’m sorry.’

  ‘S’all right,’ Paul said. ‘It was funny.’

  ‘No, I mean about all of it. Like, she invited me to book club because—’

  ‘Because of Matt? We signed the contracts yesterday. So he can’t get out of it now.’ He grinned at her.

  ‘Well,’ she said. ‘That’s something, I guess.’

  ‘Are you OK to take the kids to school?’ Paul asked.

  ‘Yeah, I’m fine. I’ve had a lot of tea. I feel OK.’

  ‘Thought you might want to avoid the other mums too.’

  ‘Ugh,’ Emma groaned. �
��I hadn’t even thought about that. God. But better to get that out of the way too.’ She rested her head on her folded arms on the table. ‘Why did I have to get so drunk? I don’t even know how it happened!’

  ‘You got drunk?’ Ruby was standing in the kitchen doorway. She was still in her pyjamas, her monkey tucked under her arm, but she’d brushed her hair.

  ‘Little bit,’ Emma said. ‘But I’m fine.’

  ‘I can’t find my uniform,’ Ruby said, joining Emma and Paul at the table.

  ‘I put yesterday’s in the wash,’ Paul said. ‘It had glue on it.’

  ‘From the crafting table,’ Ruby confirmed. ‘I made a bottle whale.’

  ‘What’s a bottle whale?’ Emma asked.

  ‘A whale made out of bottles,’ Ruby said witheringly. She started to tell Emma how it was to do with recycling and conservation, but Emma was remembering that she’d put Ruby’s other uniform in the wash too and she couldn’t remember actually putting the washing on …

  ‘Hang on a minute, sweetie,’ she said. ‘I just need to go and check something.’

  By the time Emma had realised Ruby didn’t have a clean uniform at all, Sam was up. Paul gave them both breakfast while Emma fished various bits of uniform out of the washing machine, spot cleaned and Febrezed them and threw them in the dryer.

  ‘I need to get going,’ Paul said, coming up behind her and sliding his arms around her waist, kissing the back of her neck.

  ‘What’s got into you?’ she asked, half-turning. A little voice in the back of her mind said ‘guilt?’ but she pushed it away.

  ‘Oh I don’t know. Deal’s done. Feeling much less stressed. And you were funny last night.’

  ‘Oh god,’ Emma said.

  ‘Reminded me of when we first started going out.’

  ‘When I was a drunken mess?’

  ‘Yep,’ he said, kissing her neck again. ‘I’ll pick up a bottle of gin on the way home from work, hey?’

  ‘Definitely do not do that!’ Emma said. But she was smiling.

  Emma saw Eve before she saw Jools. She was intending to head straight over and apologise – had been practicing exactly what she was going to say all the way there – but Eve didn’t give her a chance.

  ‘You owe Jools an apology,’ she said immediately, standing directly in front of Emma, blocking her path.

  ‘I’m about to apologise to her,’ Emma said. Eve was about a head taller than Emma in her heeled knee high boots. Plus she was standing way too close. Emma took a step back.

  ‘You turn up here, thinking you’re all that because your husband …’ She waved her hand, shook her head. ‘You don’t know anything about anyone. We’ve had that book club for years and no one’s ever behaved like that. Jools puts a lot of work into it and—’

  ‘I apologised,’ Emma said. ‘Last night. I offered to pay for the door. I’m going to talk to Jools this morning, as soon as I see her. I don’t know what it’s got to do with you.’

  ‘No,’ Eve said. ‘You wouldn’t.’

  ‘Mama?’ Sam said.

  ‘Can I take my kids to school?’ Emma said.

  Eve shrugged and stepped out of the way.

  ‘Jesus,’ Emma muttered under her breath as the three of them carried on up the path.

  ‘Why do you have to apologise?’ Ruby asked. ‘What did you do?’

  ‘I broke the bathroom door,’ Emma said, tugging the children through the gate.

  Beth was standing near the classroom door, looking over at Emma, her eyes wide. Surely she couldn’t have heard about it already, Emma thought.

  Ruby ran off to the playground to play with Flora.

  ‘Did you fix it?’ Sam asked Emma.

  ‘What?’

  ‘The door.’

  ‘Oh. No. But I said I’d pay for it. It’s OK, don’t worry about it. Why don’t you go and see if you can find Yahya?’

  ‘OK,’ Sam said, and ran after Flora. Emma couldn’t actually see Hanan so Yahya probably wasn’t there yet, but she assumed Sam would find someone else to play with.

  ‘Was she having a go at you?’ Beth asked, as soon as Sam had gone.

  ‘Yep,’ Emma said. ‘Last night was an absolute disaster, I can’t even tell you.’

  ‘Don’t tell me,’ Beth said. ‘Wait for Hanan.’ She nodded and Emma turned to see Hanan coming up the path to school. Yahya ran off, presumably to find Sam, and Hanan joined Beth and Emma by the door.

  ‘How did it go?’ Hanan asked.

  Emma hadn’t even got halfway through the story by the time first whistle went. The kids came back to say bye. Emma kissed Ruby – trying to ignore the smell of Febreze wafting up from her sweatshirt – and leaned down to cuddle Sam.

  ‘See you later, sweetest of peas,’ she said into his hair.

  Yahya already had his arm around Sam’s shoulder and when the two of them walked in together, Sam didn’t even look back.

  Jools was getting out of her car as Emma, Beth, and Hanan walked down the hill.

  Despite the dull day, she was wearing sunglasses and her hair was pulled back into a messy bun.

  ‘I don’t think I’ve ever seen Jools late before,’ Beth whispered in the vicinity of Emma’s ear.

  ‘Do you think it’s cos of me?’ Emma said, her stomach flickering with guilt.

  ‘Nah,’ Beth said. ‘They probably got pissed after you left and she overslept.’

  ‘Jools,’ Emma said, once they were close enough. ‘I—’

  ‘No,’ Jools said without looking at her. She actually held up her hand as if she were a celebrity fending off the paparazzi. She kept walking – past Emma, Beth and Hanan – up the hill towards school.

  ‘What the fuck?’ Emma said, stunned.

  ‘She’s so stuck-up, I told you!’ Beth said. ‘You’re well out of it.’

  ‘I can’t believe her,’ Emma said, turning round to watch Jools walk up towards school. One of her daughters – the one who said ‘fucknugget’, Emma suspected – had turned round to look back, but Jools tugged on her arm to make her face forward as they headed through the gate.

  ‘Fuck her,’ Beth said, passionately, once they were all ensconced in Saucer. ‘Fuck them all. You don’t need them!’

  ‘I know,’ Emma said. ‘I know it doesn’t matter. But …’ She shrugged. She knew she was too old to care this much about what people – people she didn’t even particularly like! – thought about her. But …

  ‘I don’t like upsetting people. But I apologised! I don’t get what her problem is. Hers or Eve’s.’

  ‘Eve’s a bitch,’ Beth said.

  Emma smiled. She didn’t think Eve was a bitch though. Not really. Or Jools. And she knew she’d behaved really badly, but you should be able to do that with your friends, shouldn’t you? You should be able to get drunk and a bit messy and have a laugh and not be judged – and definitely not ostracised for it – shouldn’t you?

  Emma sat straight up in her chair. ‘We should start our own.’

  ‘What?’ Beth said.

  ‘Our own book club,’ Emma said, picking up her coffee and taking a tentative sip. Too hot. But god she needed some caffeine. ‘A no pressure, no judgement book club. With no discussion questions or presentations.’

  ‘And no classics,’ Hanan said. ‘Fun books only.’

  ‘We should do this!’ Emma said. ‘Shouldn’t we? For real. Would you want to?’

  ‘Course!’ Beth said. ‘But, like, I might not always get a chance to read the books. But I’ll watch the film – if there’s a film. And if not we can just get together and talk and have a drink.’

  ‘Like we’re doing now?’ Hanan said, the corner of her mouth twitching with a smile.

  ‘Yeah,’ Beth said. ‘But. Without the kids.’ She glanced at the twins, asleep in their buggy. ‘And with alcohol.’

  ‘I don’t drink,’ Hanan said. ‘But a night out without kids sounds good.’

  ‘Yeah?’ Emma said. ‘Just us three?’

  ‘It could be,’ Be
th said. ‘To begin with. But if we keep it going, we could suggest more people. I wouldn’t want it to be, like, exclusive. Like Jools’s thing.’

  ‘Yeah.’ Emma said. ‘I really want to do this. Are we really going to do this?’

  ‘Why not?’ Hanan said.

  ‘Can I pick the first book?’ Beth asked.

  ‘Is it going to be the new Marian Keyes?’ Emma said, sipping her coffee again.

  Beth grinned. ‘I love her books.’

  ‘Perfect,’ Emma said. ‘OK, so what will we say? Like … one month from today?’

  ‘A month?’ Beth said. ‘I can’t wait that long. I haven’t had a night out for ages. Can we have a first meeting without a book to read?’

  Beth and Hanan picked up their phones to check their calendars. While they both tapped at their screens, Emma said, ‘Do we need a name? Or should we just call it book club?’

  ‘Oh we def need a name!’ Beth said. ‘The Not Bitches Book Club.’

  Emma and Hanan both laughed.

  ‘The You Don’t Have to Read the Book Club,’ Hanan suggested.

  One of Beth’s twins stretched in his seat, his eyes blinking open, mouth widening into a yowl.

  ‘Oh bollocks,’ Beth muttered under her breath, picking up a slice of toast and ripping it in half, before holding half out to her toddler, whose face was already bright red with fury and disappointment at being awake again and still in his buggy.

  ‘I probably should go,’ Beth said. ‘He’ll go back to sleep if I walk along the prom for a bit. He closes his eyes against the wind and then drops off.’ She unhooked her coat from the back of her chair and started pulling it on. ‘I’m such a bad mum.’

  ‘You’re not at all,’ Emma said.

  ‘That could work …’ Hanan said, smiling up at Beth.

  ‘What?’ Emma asked.

  ‘The Bad Mums’ Book Club?’

  Emma laughed and when she looked at Beth, half-worried she might be offended, Beth was grinning back at them, the other half of her toddler’s toast in her mouth.

  ‘I love it,’ Emma said.

  ‘Yours don’t call you mum though, do they?’ Beth said.

  ‘Mama,’ Emma clarified. ‘That doesn’t matter though. Still works.’ Her coffee now cooled a little, she took a huge gulp.