A Summer Fling (16 page)

‘This is a nice place,’ said Christie, expressing the view of them all. Stained-glass windows with suns on them threw shafts of gold light into the room.

‘Malcolm noticed us all going out,’ said Raychel. ‘He won’t be off for at least another hour. He hates it that we leave on time. You can tell he thinks we’re skiving.’

‘Well, we aren’t, so sod him,’ said Christie. ‘He doesn’t run the department, I do. It’s Friday night! What on earth is so bad for him at home that he won’t leave until six and get snarled up in the weekend traffic?’

‘Must have a right old bat for a wife.’

‘Bet she’s relieved he stays out of the house as long as he does.’

‘I did hear,’ began Grace, aware that the champagne had gone straight to her head and she was about to gossip but enjoying the mischief all the same, ‘that his wife is a high achiever and he doesn’t quite come up to her standards. I think there’s a lot of resentment on both sides that she’s surpassed him.’

‘Interesting,’ commented Christie. It sounded very believable. ‘Who did you hear that from?’

‘Someone I worked with who retired last year. He lived near the family.’

‘Has he any kids?’ Anna asked.

‘One, a mini-me Malcolm,’ said Grace again. ‘Apparently they have trouble with him at school. Bit of a bully, I heard.’

‘If he’s like his father, he’ll be feeling up girls’ bums in assembly,’ said Dawn, shuddering at the thought of Malcolm’s hand brushing against her own bottom. ‘How old do you reckon he is?’

‘Ah, now that one I know,’ said Christie. ‘He’s the same age as I am, forty-seven. Perfect age for a mid-life crisis. I’m picking my leather trousers up tomorrow, when I’ve had the triple spray tan.’

They all laughed. His Oompah Loompah-coloured skin was the talk of the building.

‘Don’t you think “Spatchcock” sounds like a sexually transmitted disease?’ said Anna, adopting the tone of an eminent doctor. ‘“I’m sorry, sir, you have obviously slept with some dirty women because you’ve developed a serious case of Spatchcock”.’

‘He’s quite proud of his name though,’ said Dawn. ‘He must think it makes him sound like a macho superhero.’ She extended her arm in Superman-flight style. ‘I am Spatchcock, saviour of the universe, and I hail from Planet Penis.’

Christie nearly spat out her champagne with laughter. ‘I shall have to tell James that one!’

‘He wouldn’t find that funny, surely!’ gasped Dawn. She could never imagine Mr McAskill finding a penis joke funny; he was far too dignified for that.

‘Trust me, he would,’ laughed Christie, putting on her glasses so she could read the label on the champagne bottle. In true Christie flamboyant style they were vintage Bakelite-shiny with diamanté stones down the arms.

‘Anyway – happy birthday, Anna. This is a little something from us all.’

Grace lifted a bag from under the table and put it down in front of Anna, who was genuinely taken aback. She hadn’t expected a present at all.

‘I don’t know what to say!’ she said breathlessly.

‘Oh, just get it opened, girl,’ said Christie.

Anna reached tentatively into the bag, prompting Dawn to joke that it wouldn’t bite her. There were cards inside, a book, bubble bath, chocolates, a bottle of champagne and all sorts of ribbons and sweeties and a pen with a wobbly ‘40’ on top.

‘We thought there might be something in there at least you liked,’ said Raychel. ‘We had a stab at what your tastes are.’

‘Seeing as we hardly know each other,’ added Dawn. ‘By the way, the book’s all about a woman who gets revenge on a cheating louse; we thought you’d like that! I picked it myself this afternoon.’

‘Thank you all so much,’ said Anna. She was genuinely touched. A lot more thought had gone into the girls’ presents than the cheques her parents had sent her.

‘You’ve done us a favour,’ said Dawn. ‘You gave us the kick up the bum to organize this meal.’

‘Oh well, my rotten love-life is good for something then,’ said Anna with a good-humoured tut.

‘I bet I could give you a run for your money with some of my exes,’ Dawn huffed.

‘Bet I’d win,’ said Anna. ‘I’ve had every rotten trick in the book played on me. And even some that weren’t in the book because they were too bizarre.’

‘Ooh, like what?’ asked Dawn, leaning forward eagerly.

‘Well,’ began Anna, wondering which disaster to start with, ‘before I met Tony, this guy called Wade asked me out and I thought,
This is it. For once – a decent bloke
. He had a great job, loads of money, dressed gorgeous, had lovely manners, paid for me in restaurants, held doors open for me.’ Anna took a glug of champagne before continuing. ‘Then, just when I thought I’d landed Mr Right, he starts sending me really dirty texts. But the sort that a young kid would send who’d just found some naughty words in a dictionary. One just said
SPUNK
.’

‘Yuk,’ said Raychel, screwing up her nose.

‘I thought he had Tourettes. He was forty-five, for goodness sake; I presumed it had to be medical. Turns out it floated his boat to write filth on his mobile. The texts got worse, he got more excited and I felt increasingly sick.’

‘I hope you told him to piss off in the end,’ said Dawn.

‘I daren’t,’ said Anna. ‘I might have turned him on.’

They laughed, all of them, together. It was a nice sound. More than one of them was trying to remember the last time they’d laughed in the company of a group of women.

The champagne finished, they gathered up their coats and bags and moved next door to the Setting Sun. A beautiful Thai waitress in a blue kimono met them at the door with her palms pressed together in greeting.

‘Dinner for five in the name of Somers,’ said Christie and they were smoothly led over to a beautifully set table in the corner and given the biggest menus Anna had ever seen. It would have been quicker to read
War and Peace.

‘Pad Prik Sod?’ Anna said dryly. ‘I’m not having any more pricks, thanks, I’ve had enough.’

‘Have a Poppia Poo then!’ Raychel snorted.

‘Pla Kraproa!’ Dawn contested, barely able to breathe for giggling.

‘Wank Cum Cock,’ said Anna.

‘You’re joking! Where’s that?’ said Dawn, laughing so much that the tears were running down her face.

‘I made it up, you dipstick,’ said Anna. ‘In honour of Wade.’

‘Oh stop it, I’m going to die,’ said Dawn. Her sides were sore from laughter.

‘Children, children!’ said Christie, in fake headmistress mode. Even Grace was giggling away. She was having a lovely evening. It made her think how much she had missed out on over the years, though.

‘OK, OK, we’ll be sensible,’ said Dawn, drying her eyes on a serviette. ‘Let’s be serious, now what are we ordering? Grace, you start us off.’

‘Pad Pong Galee,’ said Grace, as the youngest two started giggling again.

‘Will you behave!’ said Christie. ‘Honestly – it’s like taking a bunch of nursery kids out.’

‘I thought she said “Bad Pong Galee”,’ said Dawn. Anna’s face muscles ached. It felt so liberating to act her shoe size for once. Or rather, Tony’s willy size.

Miraculously they managed to order their meals and drinks without collapsing again and relaxed into the merry warmth around the table. Dawn thought how nice it was to have a night off wedding preparations. She hadn’t realized until she let go of them for a little while just how much they were taking over her life. She took a long sip of sparkling water and felt the coolness spread inside her.

Likewise, Grace savoured her glass of cold fizzy water too and let it swirl around and work on relaxing those parts of her that hadn’t rid themselves of tension since that horrible trip to the coast. A letter had arrived that morning offering a further 5 per cent off the Monte Carlo caravan model if they wanted to change and upgrade their choice.

‘Here’s hoping our horse-race win changes your fortune then,’ said Christie kindly to Anna.

‘Here, here,’ said Anna. ‘In fact . . . no, it doesn’t matter.’

‘Oh go on, you can’t start something and then stop it,’ said Dawn. ‘I’m far too nosey for you to do things like that to me.’

‘Well . . .’ began Anna again. She really ought to tell someone about her visit to Vladimir Darq tomorrow, as a security measure if nothing else. ‘Something strange happened to me recently. This bloke followed me in the train station . . .’ And she proceeded to tell them the full tale.

‘Goodness me!’ said Grace. ‘He does live in Higher Hoppleton, though. I’ve read about him in the newspapers.’

‘Isn’t he the one that looks like Count Dracula?’ said Dawn.

‘Wow! A Transylvanian vampire in Higher Hoppleton,’ mused Christie.

‘You make it sound like the sequel to
American Werewolf in London
!’ said Dawn, with a snort.

‘Should I go, do you think?’ Anna asked.

‘Of course you must go,’ said Grace adamantly. ‘It’s just what you need: an adventure. Perfect timing on his part.’

‘But being on TV in my underwear? I’m not sure I could. And they always feel you up on those shows, don’t they?’

‘No one seems to complain when Gok Wan grabs their hooters,’ said Christie. ‘And I warn you, if the man gives you anything like a proper fitting service, you’re looking at something akin to invasive surgery.’

‘Oh God, no. Really?’ Anna paled.

‘Oh yes, you’ll have to strip off and let him look at you.’

‘Get away! You’re having me on.’

‘I am not, my love,’ said Christie, highly amused by the look of horror on Anna’s face.

‘Oh, just go for it. I mean, what would your alternative plans for the evening be?’ said Dawn. She wondered if gay men had good foreplay techniques. Calum was straight in there like Flynn usually, if the beer let him keep it up. Sex wasn’t that big a part of their relationship.

‘Fair point,’ conceded Anna for comic effect but still thinking inwardly,
Bloody hell fire! Stripping right off! In front of millions of people
. It was all a bit surreal. Her life was starting to make the world of Spongebob Squarepants seem normal.

‘Just be careful though,’ said Dawn, shaking her finger. ‘Those celebrities are all druggies. Don’t let them stick anything up your nose except a Vick’s Sinex nasal spray.’

‘I’ve never taken drugs and I’m not starting now,’ replied Anna vehemently.

The Thai food was good and plentiful. They followed it with creamy ice creams and coffees.

‘What a lovely way this has been to round the week off,’ said Christie, popping the last half of her mint chocolate into her mouth. ‘We should do this again.’

‘I’d like that,’ said Anna. ‘I’ve had a great evening. Thank you all so much.’ She meant it too. Their company had given her spirits such a lift. She dreaded to think what her birthday would have been like had she been alone in the house.

‘Me too, I’ve had a smashing time,’ said Dawn. It was a nice change from the Crookes’ company. Their wit was so caustic and always seemed to involve slagging someone off, which could be uncomfortable to listen to sometimes, however funny their delivery.

Yes
, thought Christie. This evening had done them all good.

‘Well, happy birthday, Anniepoos,’ said Dawn and raised the last of her coffee in the air. Four other cups nudged against it. ‘May this day be the start of better times ahead for you.’

Anna just wished she believed it could be.

Calum was hungover the next morning and wouldn’t be shaken out of bed to go for his penguin suit fitting. Instead, Dawn drove to Meadowhall to look at some decorations for the tables at her reception. She played country and western music all the way there and back and sang out her heart to Tammy Wynette and her ’57 Chevrolet.

Paul had a beautiful apartment on the posher outskirts of Sheffield which he had, luckily, paid a pittance for in an area that would see a triple return on his outlay. It was all money which would go towards Rose Manor when the time came for him to sell up. Grace rang the intercom and Paul buzzed her in cheerfully. He greeted her at his door, taking all the big bags of belated Easter eggs from her with good-hearted humour and his usual loving hug. She was pleasantly surprised to see Joe there with his uncle.

‘Hello, sweetheart,’ said Grace, giving her grandson a kiss on his head. He looked quite sorry for himself.

‘He’s got a bit of toothache,’ Paul whispered. ‘Laura’s just nipped out for some oil of cloves for him and milk for me. His big Uncle Paul is taking his mind off it by playing a game of cards. Aren’t we, Joey?’ He gave the boy an affectionate squeeze on his shoulder.

‘Paul, where are . . . oh hello!’ A tall, smart, incredibly handsome black man came into the lounge from the dining room.

‘Mum, this is Charles, meet Mum, Mum meet Charles, my business partner.’

‘Oh, hello,’ said Grace with a broad smile. ‘How lovely to meet you at long last.’

‘Mrs Beamish, delighted,’ said Charles in a beautifully plummy English accent. ‘I’ve heard a lot about you.’

‘All good, I hope,’ said Grace, with a hint of a blush.

‘Every single word,’ said Charles.

‘Charles is an absolute sweetie,’ said Paul. ‘And a damned fine architect too.’

Then a buzzer went and Paul’s intercom camera showed Laura holding up a four-pint carton of milk.

‘She volunteered to go fetch it,’ said Paul. ‘We were gentlemen and offered but she wanted to cool off. She’s been ringing around for a dentist for Joe and getting nowhere.’

When Laura came in, she gave Grace a big hug.

‘Calmer now, sweetheart?’ said Charles, pulling her to him and giving her a squeeze.

‘Oh, I see!’ said Grace.

‘We’ve just started courting, Mum. I was dying to tell you but I didn’t know if he’d want to see me again after the first date,’ said Laura.

‘I didn’t know if you’d want to see
me
after the first date,’ said Charles. ‘I was so nervous I spilled my wine all over her skirt.’

Charles and Laura looked at each other sweetly and Grace couldn’t help but mirror their smile.
What a lovely man
, she thought. She just hoped it would last. Laura was a bit like poor Anna in the love department. She’d always had a rotten deal when it came to boyfriends, Joe’s father being the cherry on the cake. He had left Laura when she was five months’ pregnant, saying he had changed his mind about being ready to be a father (at forty-four) and had written himself out of the boy’s life before he was even born. Laura was well overdue some love and attention.