Valerie

by Kit Eyre

  That was how Drew found them when he came in half an hour later. He scooped Hannah up and earned a squeal of either delight or irritation – Max couldn’t decide which.

  ‘This is why you weren’t at home. Yes, it is. Yeah, hello, Hannah, hello.’

  Max frowned at him. ‘What were you doing round home? Thought I sent you to the Compton Road industrial estate.’

  ‘Caught me,’ he muttered.

  ‘Caught you?’ Elena retorted as she sat up and rescued her tea. ‘We can’t get away from you.’

  ‘I’m trying to help,’ he said.

  ‘Well, help by keeping your business afloat,’ she replied.

  Max coughed. ‘She’s got a point, mate.’

  ‘Oh, get stuffed, I’m doing my share.’ He shifted Hannah into the crook of his arm. ‘Besides, you’re here at all hours, more than enough for the both of us. Anyone’d think you’ve not got a home to –’

  ‘Drew,’ Elena interrupted, ‘Hannah’s due a feed. There’s a bottle in the bag.’

  He puffed out his cheeks but got on with it. Max exhaled and shot Elena a silent thank you. She was saved doing more by the switchboard ringing then that turned into a flurry of calls and Drew was burping Hannah by the time she got a minute. She was wondering how to deflect him next when her mobile rang and saved her the trouble.

  ‘It’s Amy,’ she said as she answered it. ‘Hiya, how did it go?’

  ‘Good, I think. I know I’m meant to be good at Economics but . . . I don’t suppose it matters now.’

  Her flat voice made Max wince, earning questioning looks from both Drew and Elena. Even Hannah seemed to notice something was up as she let out a large burp that made all of them laugh.

  ‘What was that?’ Amy asked.

  ‘Burping baby,’ she replied.

  ‘Oh. Hannah’s there?’

  ‘Yeah . . . So, what are you doing now then?’

  ‘Everyone’s going to the pub then to a – a house party. Somebody’s got the house to themselves, I think.’

  ‘And you’re not wanting to go?’

  ‘I don’t know them very well, they don’t like me.’

  ‘What about Ed? Or can’t you go back to Clarice’s?’

  ‘He’s got another private party on tonight. Biddy thinks I’m going out with Mum.’

  ‘Was that on the table?’

  ‘Well, it’s what Biddy wanted to hear so I’m meant to be staying at Mum’s. I – I thought it’d be okay at the party, but I don’t want to go. And I don’t want to go straight back to the house either. You know, Dad would’ve been waiting for me and we would’ve –’

  ‘Shush, you’re all right.’ Max covered the phone and looked over to Elena. ‘Are you two busy tonight?’

  ‘No, we’re old and boring. Why?’

  ‘Fancy a takeaway with Amy?’

  Drew shrugged. ‘Brilliant, yeah. Exam went okay, did it?’

  ‘Seems like it,’ Max said as she uncovered the phone. ‘Amy, how about coming round to Drew’s? I’ll buy in the food so the most he has to do is load the dishwasher. You can have a few drinks, get a cuddle with Hannah. I’ll drive you back to your mum’s afterwards.’

  ‘Really? I don’t want to –’

  ‘Don’t be daft. Just text me where you want picking up and we’ll get the takeaway on the way back. And don’t do anything you don’t want to, all right?’

  Amy muttered a goodbye then hung up. Max dumped the phone onto the switchboard and swayed from side to side in the chair.

  ‘Been abandoned, has she?’ Drew asked.

  ‘Valerie’s not in London,’ she said.

  ‘What, keeping tabs on her?’

  Max fiddled with the volume control. ‘I just know, that’s all.’

  Even with teenagers lurching around with fags in their mouths, the country pub was idyllic. Max drew the cab into a disabled bay and Amy jumped in out of nowhere, motioning for them to get going. Max indicated back onto the road and left it until they were a few miles away before pulling over into a layby.

  Amy twisted her fingers together. ‘Can we go?’

  ‘In a minute. What’s going on?’

  ‘I’m fine.’

  ‘Don’t treat me like an idiot,’ Max said. ‘I’ve had enough of that.’

  ‘Sorry,’ Amy murmured, throwing her a weak smile.

  ‘Have you spoken to your mum?’

  ‘I – I rejected her calls.’

  Max hesitated. ‘I could take you there if you wanted.’

  ‘No. I don’t want to see her.’

  ‘Fair enough, I get that. But this thing at Drew’s, we don’t have to do that. I could take you anywhere you want.’

  ‘Where exactly?’ Amy asked with a snicker. ‘Apart from you guys and Ed, I don’t have anyone else. People just know me, that’s all. They don’t like me, I’m just there. Even with Mum – especially with her – it’s not as if she chose –’

  ‘Hang on a second, listen to me.’ Max tilted her shoulder into the seat and made sure Amy was looking at her. ‘Your mum’s done a lot of crappy things in her time, but she did choose you. Come on, when she found herself in that mess with your real dad, she could’ve got an abortion and she didn’t. Yeah, she conned Tim into thinking you were his for about five minutes, but that doesn’t mean she didn’t want you. Far from it.’

  Amy’s anger had melted away into tears. She pulled out a pack of tissues and began cleaning herself up while Max turned her head towards the verge to give her some privacy, even if she couldn’t stop her voice running away with her.

  ‘Your mum chose you and so did I. What am I doing here if I didn’t? I’m not here out of obligation or anything daft like that. What you said about your dad taking you to the pub and that . . . I’m honoured you called me and didn’t just muck about on your own. It means something to me, okay?’

  ‘Okay,’ Amy echoed. ‘Thank you.’

  Max turned the key in the ignition. ‘So, what do you fancy to eat?’

  ‘Well, what do Drew and Elena like?’

  ‘Oh, come on,’ she replied. ‘Drew’d eat a hamster if it sat still long enough.’

  All in all, it ended up being a good one.

  Drew took to shushing them every five minutes because he heard a rustle over the baby monitor and Elena pulled out a game of Yahtzee for them all to have a go at. Amy stayed tipsy, not pitching over that line between enjoying herself and burying her head in wine. Ten o’clock rolled round and, seeing Elena sway in her seat, Max suggested they call it a night.

  The journey back was brighter, with Amy resting her head against the side window and tapping her fingertips together in time to Billy Joel on the radio. As they got closer to Geith Place, though, Max’s stomach started to churn and her foot slipped off the clutch more than once.

  ‘You could drop me here if you wanted,’ Amy said.

  Max glanced over and shook her head. ‘Screw that, I’m taking you right to the door. We’ve not done anything wrong.’

  In theory, that was all right. She had a blurry image of dropping her on the drive and going off without catching sight of Valerie. In practice, the woman herself glided down the path in her dressing gown and slippers. She must’ve been watching out from the upstairs window, though the creamy scent of shampoo that drifted into the cab when she yanked open the door explained that she wasn’t long out of the bath.

  ‘I’ve been worried,’ Valerie said.

  Amy slipped out of the cab. ‘Well, I’m here now. Thanks, Max. Goodnight.’

  ‘Night,’ she returned.

  The door was swinging shut when Valerie grabbed it with two hands. Max gestured for Amy to carry on into the house and watched her shuffle up the path, tossing anxious looks over her shoulder. It was only when the front door closed that Valerie let her iron grip on the door loosen and her head dipped into the car.

  ‘Why?’ she asked simply.

  Max shrugged. ‘Because she called me.’

  ‘Well, what did you do? Where
did you go?’

  ‘To Drew’s, that’s all. We had a Chinese and a bottle of wine between us.’

  Valerie’s body sagged. ‘She didn’t even let me know if she was all right.’

  ‘She’s fine.’ Max swallowed as the dressing gown rippled through with a breeze. ‘Go on, you should get back inside.’

  ‘Max –’

  ‘I’ve gotta go,’ she interrupted.

  ‘Of course,’ Valerie said. ‘Thank you for keeping her safe.’

  Max squeezed her eyes shut, waiting for the door to slam. ‘Anytime.’

  Chapter 34

  ‘All right, I’m here. What is it? What’s the emergency?’

  Valerie was hunched over the breakfast bar in her dressing gown, a recipe book open in front of her. She held up a hand while mouthing instructions to herself then she finally nodded and turned around.

  ‘Thank you for coming,’ she said.

  ‘What is it?’ Amy pressed. ‘Come on, Mum, what do you want?’

  ‘There’s a dress upstairs on your bed. Get changed into that. It was the one you bought in the January sales so I’m sure it’ll be fine.’

  ‘Fine for what? You told Biddy you needed to see me urgently.’

  ‘Well, I couldn’t think of another way to get you here. We’re having dinner with John this evening. He’s been asking to meet you and I can’t put it off any longer. So, you’ll just have to grin and bear it – we both will.’

  Amy frowned. ‘Sorry, say that again. You’ve got me round here to have dinner with the man you were cheating on Max with.’

  ‘I keep telling you, I wasn’t.’

  ‘Oh, I’ll ask him that, shall I?’

  Valerie spun away to wash her hands. ‘He doesn’t know a thing about her and I’d rather it stayed that way.’

  ‘I bet you would. No, no chance. I’m not doing this.’

  ‘I need your cooperation. Please, Amy, just this once.’

  ‘Once?’ she repeated, unable to repress her snort. ‘No. Lie to him, you’re good at that. Tell him I’ve got the plague or I’m looking after Biddy or something. Tell him whatever you want, except that I’m meeting him because I’m not.’

  ‘Please, Amy, please.’ Valerie clenched her jaw as she searched for a towel to dry her hands on. ‘This is so important to my career, you wouldn’t believe how important. Once – you meet him once, that’s all.’

  ‘Right, and what am I supposed to get out of it? I have to put up with a night watching that idiot slobber over you and I’m meant to like it because I’ll get a warm fuzzy feeling of doing something for you? Don’t make me laugh.’

  Valerie paced across the kitchen, the towel dangling from her hand. Then she twisted around and threw it onto the breakfast bar. Amy stiffened as she watched her expression harden, unable to anticipate where the blow might land but feeling it coming.

  ‘If we don’t do this here – tonight – then I’m afraid I’ll have to assent to John’s other suggestion of having dinner at Clarice’s. If you’re telling me that’s the only way this happens then I’m afraid . . .’

  Amy swallowed down the bile in her throat. ‘Fine. Okay.’

  ‘And you’ll be civil?’ Valerie questioned.

  ‘Sure,’ Amy muttered, turning to the door. ‘I’ve had plenty of practice being civil to people I hate.’

  There was no artificial closeness on Valerie’s part when she brought John through to the kitchen.

  ‘John, this is Amy,’ Valerie said.

  He pulled back his shoulders and smirked. ‘I was beginning to think Val was hiding you from me.’

  Amy flinched at the shortened name, knowing how Valerie loathed it. John didn’t notice – his attention had already drifted, first to the window and then to something on his phone. He let out a vapid chuckle as he looked at the screen then Valerie rested a hand on his shoulder and began talking about local sewage works.

  A bottle of wine was cooling, Amy remembered. She retrieved the corkscrew hanging from the utensil rack and attempted to uncork the bottle without Valerie’s interference, but she needn’t have been so stealthy. Valerie didn’t hear the pop or even notice her movements until Amy nudged a glass of wine into her hand.

  ‘Oh,’ she murmured, ‘thank you, darling.’

  ‘You’re welcome,’ Amy said then she forced herself to look at John. ‘Are you driving?’

  ‘I’ll be getting a taxi to the station,’ he replied.

  ‘Well, we can recommend a company,’ she returned.

  Valerie cleared her throat and brushed John’s hand with her own. ‘You could always stay, you know.’

  ‘I would if it wasn’t for that meeting. Is that a Chardonnay? You might as well fill the glass properly.’

  Amy followed the instruction wordlessly and poured her own glass before making a break for the living room. She paused to take a gulp in the hallway, followed in quick succession by another when she heard one of Valerie’s simpering laughs. It was enough to take the edge off as she crumpled onto one of the sofas and waited for them to join her.

  It didn’t take long. John walked in and planted himself on the opposite sofa, not seeming to notice that Valerie put a foot of space between them when she followed suit.

  He rested his arm across the cushions and zeroed in on Amy. ‘So, Durham, is it?’

  ‘That’s the plan,’ she muttered, even as her stomach twisted into a knot.

  ‘Got the grades?’

  ‘With any luck.’

  ‘Never rely on luck. That’s why people are so eager to embrace their own failures. They say it was out of their control when it wasn’t.’

  Valerie sat forward. ‘Believe me, Amy put the effort in. I couldn’t be prouder of her for it.’

  The sincerity glowing on her face left a strange taste in Amy’s mouth. She took another sip of wine and tried to wash it away.

  ‘I suppose you’re enjoying a break now, are you?’ John queried.

  ‘As it happens, I’ve got a summer job,’ she answered.

  ‘Excuse me?’ Valerie said.

  John’s eyes narrowed as he glanced between them. ‘Miscommunication?’

  ‘Well, Mum’s been in London a lot,’ Amy said.

  ‘And where is it you’re working, darling?’ asked Valerie.

  Amy held her gaze. ‘Just a cab office. On the switchboard.’

  ‘Oh,’ Valerie whispered, gripping her wine glass until her fingertips whitened.

  ‘Sounds like charity work to me,’ John commented. ‘I hope they’re paying you minimum wage.’

  ‘Do you?’ Amy questioned pleasantly. ‘I thought I read that you wanted to scrap that.’

  He coughed and turned to Valerie. ‘You told me she wasn’t interested in politics.’

  ‘She isn’t . . .’ Valerie said. ‘Not that I’m –’

  ‘No, no, I’m not,’ Amy cut in, focusing on John’s glistening forehead rather than his dull eyes. ‘But I thought I’d better see who my mum was spending so much time with. There wasn’t much in the way of detail, though. Your official website was a little sketchy. I mean, do you have kids?’

  Valerie shifted in her seat. ‘Amy . . .’

  ‘It’s a valid question, Val, it’s fine. Yes, I’ve got two boys – Joshua and Angus. They live with their mother in Aberdeen.’

  ‘And your constituency’s in Lincolnshire, isn’t it?’ Amy pressed.

  ‘That’s right. Say, Val, this is good wine. Is there any more?’

  Somehow, the first glass had trickled down his throat while Valerie had barely taken a sip of hers. Amy raised an eyebrow as she watched her rise to get a refill then return with the bottle instead. John clicked his fingers and Valerie handed it over without comment. Then she got to work.

  Everything about the next twenty minutes was calculated, right from the way she tickled her fingers along his thigh mid-sentence to the incline of her shoulders that exposed her cleavage and manipulated his responses. Not only was it nauseating, it was completely unnec
essary. Out of curiosity, Amy had tuned in to her maiden speech in the Commons and she’d grudgingly admit it was as eloquent as the numerous radio and television interviews she’d taken part in. It was as though she couldn’t turn off the tap, Amy realised as she studied her over the rim of her glass.

  The buzzing of the timer was a welcome interruption to the stale political dialogue permeating the living room. Valerie suggested they relocate to the dining room then, as an afterthought, asked Amy to help her serve. It was only when she’d slipped past the sofa under John’s scrutiny that she understood why.

  ‘Worried about leaving me alone with him?’ she asked.

  Valerie yanked a tray from the oven. ‘Get the plates. Not the normal ones, the blue ones down there. I should’ve warmed them, I can’t believe I didn’t.’

  ‘He’s not royalty, you know.’

  ‘He’s a guest.’

  Amy opened her mouth to retort then checked herself and retrieved the porcelain bluebell plates from the lower cupboard. She had barely held them out before Valerie snatched them from her hands.

  ‘Open another bottle of wine,’ she instructed.

  The way they served him, he might as well have been royalty. Once they were all seated, he tucked into his dinner with revolting vigour. Amy tried to close her ears to both his gnashing and the occasional coarse comments he directed across the table. Meanwhile, Valerie was quiet – too quiet.

  John tossed his napkin onto his empty plate. ‘That was gorgeous, I could get used to that. Karen wasn’t anything special in the kitchen, but that . . . Well done, Val.’

  ‘Thank you,’ she replied with a synthetic smile.

  ‘The beef was lovely, Mum,’ Amy added. ‘The sauce had a good kick to it, you know I like that. Here, I’ll give you a hand clearing up.’

  John had closed his eyes, snorting out little puffs of air like a mangy dog curled up on a street corner. Amy almost crept past him with the serving bowls rattling in her arms. In the kitchen, she scraped the leftovers into the bin and began loading the dishwasher. She assumed Valerie was preparing dessert until she turned and found her staring into space.

  ‘Mum?’ she asked.

  Valerie blinked then shook herself. ‘Hmm? Listen, you’ve done your bit and I appreciate it. You don’t have to stay for dessert, it’s nothing special. Why don’t you . . . call a taxi or something?’