by Vivien Brown
Eve came to the house-warming party, just as she had turned up seven months earlier, for a few hours on a Saturday, for Janey’s first birthday, despite the distance she’d had to travel and it being so early in the new school term, and then again at Mum and Dad’s for a few days at Christmas. We saw very little of each other nowadays but we seemed to have arrived at a kind of uneasy peace, and I think she wanted to stay in touch, for Janey’s sake. I hadn’t been sure she would make the journey again, despite it being April and the Easter holidays, with no work for her to rush back to, but clearly the lure of another afternoon in Janey’s company had worked its usual magic and there she was. This time with a man in tow as well!
We had just about managed to get all the cardboard boxes unpacked and everything more or less in its place, with a lot of help from Mum, and Dad had whizzed round the lawn that morning with his hover mower before stowing it back in the boot of his car and driving it home again, so the place looked respectable enough, if a little in need of redecoration. Josh lit a barbecue and I had spent most of the day before, in between Janey times, making and icing a cake in the shape of a house, marzipan chimney and all. We’d bought wine, and nibbles were laid out in bowls at intervals around the house and garden; I’d put fresh flowers and a brand-new hand towel in the bathroom to detract from the old cracked tiles and pampas-green bath we couldn’t yet do anything about.
It was the first time Josh had ever invited any of his work colleagues home, I supposed because our previous home hadn’t been up to the job, and I was feeling anxious about meeting them, but Mum and Dad had arrived first, their presence settling my nerves a little, and they were quickly followed by Eve, who introduced her tall, good-looking friend as Simon but told us nothing else about him. I could tell that Mum was curious, as we all were, and itching for information, and I felt pretty sure that by the end of the evening she would have wheedled a few useful snippets out of Eve, if not the poor man’s entire life history.
Eve looked poised and perfect that day, her nails varnished silver, her hair cut and coloured, and wearing a short and shimmery pale-grey dress so new I could see she had forgotten to remove the price label at the back and discreetly did it for her with a pair of scissors from the kitchen drawer. Her perfume, one I recognised straightaway as Calvin Klein, wafted subtly around her, clinging to the neck of the dress, and made me only too aware that the only scent coming off me was likely to be a mixture of soap, cheap shampoo and Janey’s strawberry milk.
It wasn’t like Eve to dress up like that. Her job, her new life, were changing her and I guessed this man of hers just might be important too, someone worth making the effort for. As the afternoon wore on, I noticed how he placed his arm across her back to guide her through the crowds in the kitchen, how he bent to whisper in her ear before pouring her another drink, how totally at ease they were with each other, and I felt a small pang of jealousy as my own husband flipped burgers and chatted animatedly to his banking buddies and barely looked in my direction at all. He did look at Eve though, as did every other man at the party. I couldn’t help noticing that.
Of course, Janey was the real star of the show. I’d bought her a red dress and shoes, and her hair had finally grown long enough to be pulled up into a tiny pony tail, topped off with a matching red bow. She looked cute, toddling about with half a burger bun in her hand, grass stains on her tights, ketchup smeared around her mouth, being picked up and chuckled at by just about everyone in turn.
‘Time for bed now, Janey.’ The heat of the barbecue had died down to a glow, and there were no buns left, just the wilted remains of the salad, a plate of burnt sausages that most people seemed keen to avoid, and numerous discarded paper plates and empty glasses dotted about. Josh was wiping his hands on a tea towel and play-chasing Janey around the garden, dodging legs and chairs, but she was having none of it. What child wants to be shuttled off to bed while there are still people to give her attention and all kinds of potential fun and games to look forward to? When he caught her she screamed, at first with excitement, but that soon turned to distress as she realised she had been tricked, it wasn’t a game, and it really was bedtime.
‘Can I?’ It was Eve, holding out her arms. ‘Maybe she’d let me get her into her pyjamas? You know, the novelty factor of someone new doing it, and then a story once she’s all tucked up?’
Josh hesitated, already halfway into the kitchen. ‘Why not?’ he said, handing the wriggling Janey over. ‘You are her auntie, after all, and it means I can get back to the party and concentrate on my guests. Thanks, Eve.’
‘I’ll come with you,’ I said, following them to the stairs. ‘You don’t know her routine, or where anything is.’
‘I’m sure I’d manage, but yes, come.’
‘So, how are things?’ she asked, when we had Janey changed and lying in her cot, her little eyelids already closing before we had even chosen a book to look at. ‘The house is nice, by the way.’
‘Fine. And, yes, I like it. I think we can make something of it, with a bit of paint and a few garden plants. More room for Janey too, now she’s walking.’
‘More like running, I’d say. She’s grown so much since I last saw her.’ She leant over the cot and kissed her own fingers, gently placing them on Janey’s forehead.
I laughed, pleased that Eve was talking to me, actually talking to me, as if we were on the way to being close again. ‘Yeah, she never stops. Come on, she’s exhausted. Let’s leave her. Fancy a glass of wine, or are you keen to get back outside to your Simon?’
‘He’s not my Simon, Sarah. He’s a work colleague. We enjoy each other’s company. We go to the cinema together, or out to eat sometimes, and he’s teaching me to drive. He’s a friend. Probably my best friend, to be honest, but that’s all.’
‘If you say so.’
‘I do! His parents live not that far from here, so it made sense to travel up together. He even let me drive some of the easy non-motorway bits. We’re heading over there when we leave here, actually. Only fair to spend some time with his family, seeing as he’s had you lot inflicted on him all afternoon.’
We got to the bottom of the stairs and I led her into the now deserted kitchen and hunted around for an unopened bottle of wine. There wasn’t one.
‘Will lager do?’ I opened the fridge and took out two cans. ‘Looks like the wine’s all gone.’
‘Yeah, sure, Anything. Simon’s driving, not me this time, so booze is allowed!’
‘So … Simon? You’ll be spending the night at his parents’ place?’
‘Oh, give it a rest! They have a spare room. I will be sleeping in it. Not everybody jumps straight into bed together, you know. And he’s not that kind of a bloke …’
‘They’re all that kind of bloke, Eve, given half the chance.’
‘You’ve got really cynical, haven’t you? What’s going on? Is Josh playing away or something?’
‘I don’t know. I hope not. But when he works late, I can never really know where he is, can I? Or where he spends his lunch breaks? Oh, he knows where I am all right, stuck here with Janey, but it’s different for men, isn’t it?’
‘Not necessarily. Sounds to me like you’re having trouble trusting him.’
‘Is it any wonder? Look how quickly he cheated on you.’
‘It took two, Sarah.’ She was glaring at me now, and I realised I had stepped over a line. This was not the best direction to take the conversation in.
‘I know. And I’m sorry. Nothing we can do to turn back the clock though, is there? And now my garden is full of young intelligent career women I don’t know anything about, and any one of them could be …’
‘What? Next on his list? God, you really have got it bad, haven’t you?’ She took a swig of her beer, straight from the can, and leaned forward to lay her cold hand on mine. ‘If you’re that worried, you’d better do something about it. Yes, you’re a stay-at-home mum, but you can still make the effort.’
I looked down at myself. I’d
dressed for comfort, in cotton trousers and a floppy blue-and-white striped blouse, and there was a mark on the front, probably from Janey’s mucky fingers. ‘I try.’
‘Then try harder. Get your hair done. A good cut. Highlights, maybe. And look at your nails, all bitten down. Looking good is so important, if only for your own self-confidence. I soon discovered that, once I started teaching. Dressing like the kids, in baggy clothes and trainers, doesn’t work. Look the part, and they respect you more. I think that works with men too. Give ’em a bit of razzle dazzle, if you want to keep them interested. Not that I’m any sort of expert in that department! But you’re only twenty-three, Sarah. You used to be so into fashion. You shouldn’t be dressing like Mum! Especially at a party, even if it is only in your own back garden. I don’t mean to sound harsh, but you did ask. Maybe you should—’
‘Ah! Here you are.’ Eve stopped abruptly as Simon came in through the open back door, peering at his watch. ‘I don’t want to rush you, but should we be making a move soon, do you think? Oh, not interrupting anything, am I?’
‘Of course not,’ I said, putting my drink down. ‘Just catching up. You know, sister stuff.’
‘Yeah, we haven’t done a lot of that lately, have we?’ Eve came closer and gave me a loose hug. It was the first time she had shown any sign of affection in years. Maybe now she had a new man of her own she had finally decided to let the past go. ‘But think about it, Sarah. What I said. Don’t leave it to chance. Don’t leave it too late.’ She laughed. ‘You don’t want to end up like me!’
Like her? I had no idea what she meant. She was dressed beautifully, had a good job that she loved, and a handsome man eager to drag her away. What would be so bad about ending up like that?
And then they were back outside saying their goodbyes, Eve pulling Mum, and then Dad, into hugs much tighter than the one she had given me, and neither of them, despite their best efforts, still any the wiser about Simon or his place in her life. I watched as Eve approached Josh, holding out her hand to him, but he threw his arms around her, planting a kiss on the top of her head. Did he hold her for just a moment too long? Or was I looking for things that just weren’t there? He’d been drinking, he was having a good time, and they were old friends. Still, his gaze followed her, all the way to the door.
I walked through the house with Eve and Simon and waved them off from the step. The evening was getting chilly and darkness was falling. I watched the lights of Simon’s car until they disappeared around the corner, then I closed the door and stood for a moment in the empty hall, stifling a yawn. I felt ridiculously tired all of a sudden and hoped it wouldn’t be long until the other guests decided to call it a night too. With no food left, and no wine, I didn’t think there would be much reason for them to stay.
I spent a few minutes clearing things away in the kitchen, pouring the remains of Eve’s can of lager down the sink before finishing my own. I could hear Josh laughing at something outside, and knew he would be expecting me to go back out there and join his friends. But first I went up to check on Janey. She was sleeping soundly, making little contented snuffles, one thumb placed loosely in her mouth. As I leaned over the side of the cot to kiss her goodnight, all I could smell was Eve’s perfume, as if she had left a little of herself behind in my house, imprinted on my daughter’s skin.
Chapter 15
EVE
It was one of those lazy Sunday mornings, early in August, and I’d spent ages being unusually domesticated, making real lemonade and a fat, squidgy ginger cake. Simon was stretched out on my one and only sun lounger, engrossed in the sports pages of his newspaper as he munched on a thick slice of the cake, flicking crumbs across the lawn for the birds and wiping his sticky hands down his jeans.
‘What do you fancy for lunch?’ he said, looking up and peering at me above the sunglasses that had slipped, sweatily, down his nose.
‘Lunch?’ I rested my elbows on the small patio table and sipped my drink, trying not to pull a face at its unexpected sourness, making a mental note that more sugar was needed next time. ‘It’s just gone eleven, and we’ve only just had … well, elevenses! You can’t be hungry again already.’
‘No, no, thinking ahead, that’s all. Wondered if you’d like to take a walk to the pub later and grab a roast maybe. I could ring and book us a table.’
‘Thanks, Si, but it’s such a nice day, I’d rather stay here, and I’m not sure I could eat anything heavy. I could do us a salad?’
‘Salad? I’m a growing lad!’
‘You grow much more and you won’t fit through the door. Now, stop thinking about food and help me with the crossword.’
‘Me, help you? Now I know you’re having a laugh. Give me A Question of Sport and I’m your man, but show me an anagram or one of those cryptic thingies and I don’t have a clue.’ He laughed, loudly. ‘Ha! Just made a joke there, I think. Clue! Get it?’
‘Fine. You get back to your sports pages and leave the intellectual stuff to me.’ I adjusted the flimsy parasol that was fluttering above my head and moved my plastic chair round a bit, to keep the sun off my face.
‘Don’t knock it, Eve. It’s what makes us such good friends, you know. Our differences. Chalk and cheese, that’s us. I mean, we wouldn’t want both of us battling over that puzzle, trying to outdo each other, would we? You see it on trains. A couple of businessmen huddled over their own copies of The Times crossword, desperate to be the first to finish it, probably filling in any old rubbish in the boxes just so it looks like they’ve cracked it. All that rivalry. It’d be the same if we were both runners, or tennis players. Always vying to be the fastest, or the best, trying to beat each other. No, I like it this way.’
‘Me too, actually.’ I put my pen down and looked at him. ‘We complement each other, don’t we?’
‘What? Like me telling you how clever you are and you telling me I’m the best hooker you’ve ever seen?’
‘Not that sort of compliment, you dummy.’ I rolled up my paper and flicked it at his arm. ‘And, you may have the morals of an alley cat, but why would I call you a hooker?’
Simon roared with laughter. ‘Oh dear, you really don’t know anything about rugby, do you? I’ll explain it all to you one of these days.’
‘Is it anything like the rules of cricket? All that being in when you’re out and out when you’re in stuff?’
‘Not exactly.’
‘Let’s not bother then, eh? Sport’s not my thing.’
‘And messing around with words isn’t mine. But I love you anyway. Best buddies?’
‘Always.’
We sat in silence for a while, enjoying the sunshine and the last of the lemonade. When I looked up to swat a persistent wasp away from the sugary rim of the empty jug, I saw that Simon had nodded off to sleep, his face, usually so pale and freckly, already turning redder than it should. I had a wide-brimmed straw hat in the flat somewhere and I went in to find it, although I was not entirely sure it would fit Simon’s head, which was considerably bigger than mine. Failing that, I’d just have to wake him up and get him to move into the shade.
I had the contents of the hall cupboard out all over the carpet when the intercom buzzed, and still no hat. I was expecting the caller to be some sort of door-to-door salesman or a neighbour asking if Simon could please move his car. A nuisance, but easy enough to get rid of. I picked up the handset by the front door, and there was the hat, which had clearly been hiding all along, right there beside me, wedged between two winter jackets and a mac on the coat stand.
‘Hello?’ I tugged at the hat and managed to free it, knocking the mac onto the floor in the process.
‘Eve? Is that you?’
It couldn’t be! But it definitely was. I would have known that voice anywhere.
‘Josh? What are you doing here?’ My heart was thumping nineteen to the dozen. ‘Is everything all right? With Sarah? Janey? Mum and Dad?’
‘Everything’s fine.’
I was aware that I was just
standing there, shocked into silence, rolling the battered old hat around in my hand, the contents of a cupboard scattered at my feet.
‘Eve? Are you still there? Can I come in, do you think? Or are you going to leave me out here on the step?’
I pushed the button that opened the main door, pulled my own door open, and watched him walk across the communal hallway towards me. He was smartly dressed – too smartly really, for a summer Sunday – and he was carrying a bunch of roses. White roses, wrapped in cellophane, with a yellow bow.
‘For you,’ he said, thrusting them forward and leaning in to peck my cheek. ‘A sort of peace offering, as I’ve turned up uninvited.’
‘Thank you.’
‘It is all right, isn’t it? Me coming here? You’re not … well, busy, or entertaining or anything?’
‘Entertaining?’ I had visions of me doing a twirl while singing into a microphone. ‘Oh, you mean do I have a man here? Did you interrupt me having passionate daytime sex? Afraid not. Just my friend Simon. He’s out in the garden, having a nap. But, of course, you’ve met Simon, haven’t you? At your party.’
‘Oh, then maybe I should go?’
‘Don’t be daft. Not when you’ve come all this way.’ I stood aside and ushered him in, nudging the pile of cupboard stuff away with my foot and closing the door behind him. ‘Why have you come all this way anyway?’
‘I had to come to Cardiff for a conference. Starts properly tomorrow, but there’s a meet-and-greet and a dinner this evening. I had a few hours to kill, it’s too early to check in at the hotel, and I knew you were nearby. I’ve parked outside on a yellow line. I assume that’s okay on a Sunday? Not likely to get a fine? Look, you really are sure about me being here? This Simon bloke isn’t going to mind?’