Welcome to the Real World (26 page)

M
y brother Joe arrives on the Coronary Care Ward at the same time as Carl. I kiss them both.

'How's Nathan?' I ask Joe.

'Good,' he says. 'Missing you.'

'I'm missing him, too. I'll try to come round later,' I promise. Now that I'm not mega-busy trying to forge a pop career and look after Evan David's every whim in between time, I should have some of my life back to myself.

Joe clasps Dad's hand and then takes my place at his bedside.

'Come on,' I say to Carl, 'we can clear off and get something to eat.'

'Bye, Mr Kendal,' Carl says to Dad. 'Glad to see you're looking better.'

'That was a bloody short visit,' Dad complains. 'And where are my grapes?'

Yes, it seems that my dad is making a marvellous recovery. Carl flicks him a good-natured peace sign and we head out towards the hospital cafe.

'He looks well,' Carl says as we stride down the corridors, the echo of our footsteps bouncing back at us off the walls. 'You must be relieved.'

'Relieved?' I say with a huff. 'He's already trying to get one of the young nurses to give him more than a bed bath.'

Carl chuckles.

'It's not funny,' I tell him. 'Even though he had a quick knock at death's door, it hasn't moved my mum to come and see him. I never imagined that she'd be like this. I thought they'd both forget all their silliness and make it up. It grieves me to say this, Carl, but I don't know that they'll ever get back together now.'

'You worry about them too much.'

'Not for much longer,' I say. 'I'm definitely thinking about trading them both in for better parents.'

'You love them both just as they are,' Carl counters. 'And you know it.'

I give an exasperated sigh. 'It's not good manners to be right all the time.'

With a carefree laugh, Carl swings me through the door to the hospital cafe. As a further assault to the senses, the cafe is decorated in shades of red and white. With all the blood and bandages around this place, I would have thought it was a really bad choice of colour scheme, but what do I know?

'I wish I smoked,' I say to Carl as we queue up at the self-service counter. 'I have a craving for some toxins to give me a kick-start.'

Honestly, I could lie down on the counter and go right off to sleep. I'm exhausted, and the only time my brain seems to shut off is when I'm flat out in bed. I wish someone would whisk me off to the Bahamas so that I could lie on a sunbed on the beach for two weeks and recuperatebut, like everything else that I dream of, it's simply not going to happen. Hospital canteen food is set to be my only succour.

'I could give you a cancer stick, or I've got some dope back at the flat,' my friend offers.

'You are
so
rock 'n' roll!' I tease, and we both have a laugh. I don't know why, but I thought there might be some tension between us this morning. Of course, as always, I deeply underestimated Carl's ability to be nice, understanding and utterly accepting.

We opt for a putrid cup of hospital coffee and a bacon roll each, which I buy because I'm feeling guilty. I expect Carl has been taking a lot of flack from Ken the Landlord about my continued absences, but if he has, he's said nothing to me. We find a table without too much rubbish on it, and I wipe it down with a serviette. So much for the improvement in hospital cleanliness. It obviously doesn't extend to the cafeteria. We plonk down on the hard, red plastic seats and spread out our wares.

Glugging down the bitter coffee, I pick at my bacon roll. 'So,' I say to Carl. 'Where did you get to last night?'

'I could ask you the same thing,' he replies.

'Back to Evan David's apartment,' I say, choosing to go first. Wherever Carl went, his experience couldn't have been as disastrous as mine. I pause for dramatic effect. 'Where I was introduced to his fiancee.'

'Oh.' Carl looks suitably taken aback. Imagine if I'd filled him in on the gory details. I daren't tell him about prancing round in my underwear or he'd come over all unnecessary. 'That's a bummer, man.'

'Well said.'

'How do you feel?'

'Stupid.' That pretty much sums it up. I wave my hand dismissively, though my heart twists with painand say, 'Well, it's all over now. No more silliness.'

'Shall I give you the plenty-more-fish-in-the-sea speech?'

'Not necessary,' I say. 'My nets will soon be out trawling for a new haddock.' I knock back my coffee with a shudder. 'In fact, I'm going to start interviewing for replacement heart-throbs any day now.' I flutter my eyelashes at Carl, but he doesn't offer his body as he normally wouldnot even in jest. Instead, he shifts in his seat and pretends to study the plastic menu on the table.

'So,' I say into the gap that Carl leaves. 'I hope your evening was more successful than mine. Where did you get to?'

He still doesn't look at me. 'To a club.'

'A club?' Carl never goes to clubs. He has a congenital aversion to them.

'In Camden.'

'What sort of club?'

Carl shrugs. 'Can't remember the name. It had good live music.'

'Is that the only information I'm going to get?'

'There's not much else to tell.'

'Who did you go with?'

Carl shifts again. 'Some guys from the pub.'

And some girls, too, if I'm any sort of judge of body language. Does this mean that Carl's dating someone? Ooo. That brings up all kinds of emotions, and one of them is definitely jealousy.

He's dated other women while we've been friendshe's hardly a monk. There's no vow of chastity just because I won't leap into bed with him. But normally he tells me all about them, and I know that there's never been anyone special in his life. Is that why he's suddenly being so cagey?

'Come on,' I cajole him. 'Dish the dirt.'

'There's none to dish.'

'I would have given you every detail of my shagfest with Evan David, if I'd had one.' Of course I wouldn't, but Carl isn't to know that.

'That would have been very nice for me.'

'I could come to the club with you,' I offer. 'Whatever it's called. After the pub one night. We haven't spent much time together over the last few weeks. I've had my dad to sort out and my mum. Then there's Joe and Nathan. I can't leave them alone for five minutes...'

'You can't spend your entire time trying to run everyone else's life, Fern,' my friend says crisply. 'With the exception of Nathan, we're all grown-ups. Maybe there are times when we need to make our own decisions and our own mistakes. Just sort
yourself
out.'

I nearly cough up my coffee. Carl has just told me to butt out. For the first time ever. I'm nearly rigid with shock. I wonder if this means he's in love?

K
en the Landlord is giving me baleful glares and is puffing pointedly whenever he comes near me, but, as he hasn't given me the sack, I assume he's just posturing. Nevertheless, I'm trying to look like the model employee, and I'm polishing glasses as if my life depended on it. The pub is filling up nicely for the evening, and I'm going to be so busy that I won't have time to thinkwhich is fine by me. Thinking is an overrated pastime.

I smile my sweetest smile at Ken, who bares his teeth at me. I polish harder. In the middle of this stand-off, my mum slips into the King's Head and hops onto a bar stool in front of me. 'Hello, darlin',' she says.

I nearly drop a glass. It's monthsprobably longersince my mum has popped into the King's Head. In fact, Mum doesn't really do 'popping', so there must be a purpose to this.

I give her a wary kiss. 'To what do I owe this pleasure?'

'You can buy your old mum a gin and tonic,' she says, clasping her handbag to her knees.

Dutifully, I squeeze a single measure of gin from the optic and go heavy on the tonicI know what my mum's like after one sherry. I hand it over and then wait to find out what this is really about. Perhaps she's finally going to come clean about her fling with Mr Patel. It might be that she's even coming to tell me that they've bought a bungalow in Eastbourne and are going to be moving in together. It doesn't bear thinking about. But Carl's rightthey're adults and they have to live their lives as they see fit. If Mum hasn't hightailed it back to Dad's bedside after all this, then maybe nothing will make her take him back now.

She sips her drink. 'Mmm, lovely.'

I can tell that she doesn't want it at all. Two other customers come to the bar, so I move away to serve them, keeping a watch on Mum from the corner of my eye. Viewed dispassionately from a distance, it saddens my heart to see that she's looking older and more frail these days. It's a subtle shift, but some of her feistiness has drained out of her. I wonder when that happened. Is her mysterious double life starting to take its toll on her? Is it the thought of going through a divorce at her time of life? It's never easy at any age, but when you're on the verge of drawing your pension there seems an extra poignancy to the whole proceedings.

I finish serving my customers and move back to her. 'So?'

She sighs before she says, 'How's your dad?'

'He's fine,' I say truthfully. 'According to the doctors, he should be able to go home within the week.'

'Good,' my mum says, but she sounds shaky. She takes a glug of her gin and I can see that she struggles to swallow it. 'Is he going back to your flat?'

I shrug. 'I guess so.'

When she looks up at me, I can see that there's a tear in her eye. 'Was it really bad?'

'About as bad as it gets,' I tell her flatly. 'We very nearly lost him.'

'Old goat,' she mutters, but there's no venom in the words.

'There's no need for you to worry about him.' Not that she has been, it would appear. 'He's getting great attention in the hospital. There's a really nice, pretty young Thai nurse who's taken a shine to him,' I say with a barb in my tone. 'She's making sure he's all right. I'm going in every day. So is Joe.'
There's only you that's missing from our cosy little line-up, Mum,
is my subtext.

Mum looks tiny perched on her bar stool, a worried frown on her brow. This may not be the right time and it definitely isn't the right place, but I decided to bite the bullet and address the other problem that's tearing our family apart.

I rest my hand on Mum's. 'I know about Mr Patel,' I say. 'I sussed out what was happening ages ago.'

Mum's eyes widen. 'How did you find out?'

'You're my mother,' I say gently. 'I'm not stupid.'

'I didn't want anyone to know,' she admits. 'It was something just for me. Something that no one else knew about.'

'You were a bit obvious.' I laugh softly. 'The make-up. The new hairdo. All your best clothes dragged out of the back of the wardrobe. It didn't take a genius to work out what was going on.'

My mum looks taken aback.

'I understand,' I say as I pat her hand. 'Mr Patel's an attractive man. Who wouldn't be tempted? I just wish you'd be straight with us, Mum. All these idiotic things that Dad's been doing to try to get you back, and he still has no idea that you've found someone else.'

'Someone else?' My mother's voice is a strangled squeak. She slugs back the remains of her gin.

'It's written all over your face.'

My mum nearly splutters out her drink. 'You think I'm having an affair with Mr Patel?'

'You might be my mum,' I say, 'but we are both women of the world.' I give her a knowing wink.

My mum's face turns a thunderous shade of black. 'Is that all women of your generation think about? Sex. Sex. Sex.'

Now it's my turn to be taken aback. I might think a lot about sex, but it doesn't mean that I'm getting any.

'There are other things in life,' she raves on, 'like helping out a friend. Don't you understand the meaning of platonic friendships?'

My mother does not need to lecture me on this. 'I happen to have been having a platonic friendship with Carl for the last seventeen years.'

'Yes,' my mum snaps. 'Shame on you. That boy adores youit's about time you did the decent thing by him.'

That makes my jaw drop. My mum's never commented on my relationship with Carl.

'Where's that fancy man you brought home now?' Mum wags her finger at me. 'Gone.' She clicks her fingers. 'Gone in a flash.'

Her words stab into my heart.

'Carl's been there for you for most of your life, since you were both scrawny kids.'

'I couldn't manage without Carl. I do love him.' And then the truth of the matter hits me and I feel my insides crumble. 'But not enough.'

'And I love your dad,' Mum snaps back. 'But I don't
like
him very much sometimes.'

We stare at each other for a moment, then I fetch Mum another gin and help myself to one. We knock them back together. 'So what are we going to do?'

'You've got to let Carl go,' she tells me.

'And what about you?'

Mum tries an uncertain smile. 'I've been going ballroom dancing,' she says. 'That's all. I didn't want anyone to know because you'd all make fun of me. Mr Patel's wife's had a hip replacement and she can't dance for six months. I've been partnering TariqMr Patelinstead.'

I shoot her a warning glance. 'That's how these things start.'

'Mrs PatelChandrashe comes along, too. On her crutches. She's a lovely woman.'

'I'm pleased to hear it,' I say, shamefaced.

'I feel twenty years young when I'm tripping round that dance floor, light as a feather,' my mum continues, a wistful look in her eye. 'I can forget all my problems. I can forget I've got a grandson who's poorly. I can forget I've got an unhappy son with no wife who struggles to make ends meet. I can forget that my daughter's living in a hovel with all her precious dreams unfulfilled. I can forget that I've got a husband who's never given me so much as a moment's peace throughout our marriage. Most of all, I can forget who I am. I can pretend that I'm young again without a care in the world. Don't you think I deserve that?'

Mum's close to tears, as am I. 'Why didn't you tell us all this?'

'You'd have all laughed,' she says with a hint of bitterness. 'I've never had time to myself. Never had a hobby. The family have always come before my own needs. Well, this was just for me and for no one else. I wanted it to be my secret. I have dreams, too, Fern.'

I give her a sympathetic look. 'It would have helped if you could have sat down and told Dad.'

'When can you ever tell your father anything?' my mum statesquite rightly. 'He would have made stupid jokes about it. He would have tried everything to stop me going out by myself.'

'He could have gone with you.'

'He'd have embarrassed me. He'd have drunk too much and would have made fun of everyone. You know what he's like, Fern.'

I do.

'He's never been the easiest man to live with,' she sayssomething of an understatement, I have to admit. 'I'd just had enough.'

'But you've always managed before. Why did you kick him out now, after all this time?'

'I needed time to be myself without always having to think about Derek.'

'And now?'

Mum hangs her head. 'And now I'd better go straight to the hospital and see how he is.'

I lean over the bar and hug my mum. 'I love you.'

'I love you, too, darlin'.'

Mum hops down from her stool. She wipes a tear from under her eye and pulls up her tiny five-foot, two-inch frame to its full height. 'Now what did you say the name of that pretty Thai nurse was?'

'I didn't,' I tell her with a smile, and she gives me one of her death-ray looks, the one that I can copy so well. 'Will you have him back at home, Mum?'

Mum hoists her handbag over her shoulder and straightens her jacket. 'Just let anyone try and stop me,' she says.