Women Behaving Badly_An uplifting, feel-good holiday read Page 11

  “Oh, get a life, will you? You’re just —”

  “Can I have my mother now, officer?” said Mavis quickly. “And I’m so sorry if she’s caused offence.”

  “Mavis, you don’t have to creep to the police! This is ridiculous!”

  “Gabs,” said Alice, “shut up, and help us get Maudie out of the car.”

  Maudie appeared to be none the worse for her little expedition, although she was very cold and her clothes were streaked with dirt. She was still clutching an empty wine glass and appeared unaware of the trouble she’d caused.

  “I’ve had such a lovely ride,” she said, holding on to Mavis’s arm. “And this young man has been so kind. But he didn’t like my song. Such a shame. It was one of your father’s favourites, dear.”

  “I’m sure it wasn’t,” Mavis said. “Could someone give me a hand?”

  Alice took the other side of Maudie, and together they half pushed, half pulled her back towards the house.

  “‘Roll me over, in the clover, roll me —’”

  “Shh, Mother. People don’t want to hear that. I think we should be going. I’ll phone for a taxi. We’ll go home, shall we, Mother? And you can have a nice cup of tea.”

  “Don’t want tea. I want another little drop of… little drop of…”

  “No more little drops for you tonight, Mother. You’ve had quite enough.”

  Finn and Kenny appeared from round the corner.

  “Ah, you’ve found her,” Finn said. Both boys seemed very entertained by the situation. “She’s drunk, isn’t she?”

  “Of course she’s not,” said Mavis, puffing with exertion (Maudie was not light).

  “What’s this?” Finn asked, picking up the yellow bag that was trailing in Maudie’s wake.

  “Pee,” said Alice firmly. “Thank you, boys, for your help. You can go and —go and get on with whatever it is you were doing.”

  Mavis blushed and quickly took the bag from Finn.

  “Doesn’t that hurt?” Alice asked when the boys had gone back into the house.

  “Doesn’t what hurt?” Mavis was busy securing the bag to Maudie’s person.

  “The bag. When it drags along like that.”

  “You’d think so, wouldn’t you? But she never seems to mind.”

  “‘Roll me over, lay me down, and do it again!’” warbled Maudie, tripping on the kerb and nearly taking her two helpers down with her. The wine glass rolled into the gutter and shattered.

  “Mother! Be quiet.”

  “That’s what the young man said.”

  “I don’t blame him.”

  Gabs was feeling relieved on two counts. Maudie had been found and no harm done, so she could stop feeling guilty about the extra glass or two of wine. And the attention had shifted from her own doings, which weren’t being very well received. But she was also disappointed. She had hoped to have a sympathetic hearing from Alice, if not from Mavis, and instead they had both turned prim and disapproving, despite the fact that they were in no position to cast aspersions on Gabs’ doings. At least Steph was entitled to the moral high ground since that was more or less where she belonged. Mavis and Alice most certainly were not.

  The little party broke up quickly since Mavis wanted to get Maudie home and it was getting late. Mavis and Gabs phoned for taxis, and a date was set for the next meeting.

  But if Gabs had anything to do with it, there wouldn’t be a next meeting. Not for her, anyway. If she wanted to be lectured, it was cheaper and easier to stay at home and listen to Steph. Sitting glumly in the back of her taxi, ignoring the rather obvious chat-up lines of the driver (who, although he didn’t know it, almost certainly couldn’t afford her), Gabs dreamed of Father Augustine and planned her next move.

  To hell with Alice and Mavis. Gabs had a life to lead.

  Part Three

  Alice

  Alice found the plant behind Finn’s bed. It was quite large, but severely pot-bound and badly in need of water. The wilting green leaves were instantly recognisable, and Alice sighed. This was all she needed.

  She tackled Finn when he got home from school.

  “About your plant,” she said, trying to keep her voice even.

  “What plant?” Finn was foraging in the fridge. “Is there any cheese?”

  “How many plants have you got? The one behind your bed, of course.”

  “Oh, that plant.”

  “Yes. That plant.”

  “Quite pretty, isn’t it?” Finn looked shifty.

  “No, Finn, it’s not especially pretty. And since when have you been interested in plants?”

  “Biology project?” said Finn, but without much hope.

  “I doubt very much that you’d be asked to grow cannabis as a biology project.”

  “Oh! Is that what it is?”

  “Stop playing games with me, Finn. I haven’t got the energy.”

  “Okay.” Finn put down the knife he was holding and folded his arms. “I’m looking after it for someone.”

  “Kenny?”

  “No, not Kenny.”

  “Who, then?”

  “I can’t tell you.”

  “You have to tell me.”

  “I don’t have to tell you anything.”

  “Finn, please. I need to know. Like it or not, you’re my responsibility. And that includes knowing who gave you that plant.”

  “If I tell you, do you promise not to get cross?”

  “It depends.”

  “In that case —”

  “Okay. I won’t get cross. But you must tell me, Finn.”

  “Right, then. It’s Trot’s.”

  “Trot’s?”

  “Yeah. He’s gone away for a few days and didn’t like to leave it.”

  “It’s not a pet! What can he be thinking of?”

  Finn shrugged. “He might be away a bit longer. He wasn’t sure.”

  “How dare he! How dare he do something like this, which he knows full well could get you into trouble!”

  “You said you wouldn’t get cross,” said Finn, picking up his knife again.

  “Maybe. But this really is the last straw!”

  “Well, don’t blame me.” Finn began cutting slices from a lump of cheese. “It wasn’t my idea.”

  “You could have said no.”

  But Alice knew that this was unfair. Of course Finn couldn’t have said no. Apart from anything else, she imagined that in the world occupied by her son, being asked to look after your father’s cannabis plant would be considered incredibly cool. Refusal would hardly be an option.

  “He’s just experimenting,” Finn said. “He’s only got the one. You can’t do much with one, can you?”

  “I’ve no idea. But I do know that if it’s found on our premises, you’ll be in trouble.”

  “Who’s going to find it?” asked Finn through a mouthful of sandwich.

  “That’s not the point.”

  “Well, what is the point?”

  “The point is that you’ve got a stupid, irresponsible father, who ought to know better.”

  And to think, Alice thought later on when she’d cooled down a bit, that she had, if only for a few seconds, considered marrying this man. She must have been out of her mind.

  That evening, when Finn had gone out (and despite vigorous protest on his part, the plant had been consigned to the dustbin), Alice rang Trot on his mobile.

  “Where are you?” she demanded.

  “In Ireland. Why? What’s up?”

  “What are you doing in Ireland?”

  “Fishing. Not that it’s any concern of yours.”

  “It is my concern if you decide to leave your — your pet plant with our son!”

  “Oops.”

  “Yes. Oops.”

  “Oh, come on, Alice. There’s no need to overreact. It’s just a plant.”

  “It is not just a plant! You are growing an illegal substance, and bringing Finn into it is just not on.”

  “Blah, blah, blah.” Trot had
obviously been drinking. “Oh, Alice, you take life so seriously. Where’s your sense of humour?”

  “I’m trying to bring up a teenager. Your son. On my own. I can’t always afford to have a sense of humour.”

  “What have you done with it?”

  “Done with what?”

  “My plant.”

  “I’ve thrown it away, of course.”

  “You can’t do that!”

  “I just have.”

  “I grew that plant from seed!”

  “Well, you could say that you grew Finn from seed, and you don’t seem to worry too much about what happens to him.”

  “Very funny.”

  “Believe me, Trot, I’m in no mood to be funny.”

  “But my plant,” Trot wailed. “I wasn’t going to use it. It’s just that I’ve become kind of fond of it.”

  “Well, that’s tough,” said Alice, and rang off.

  She was furious. This was typical of Trot, and she wouldn’t have been surprised if he had done it just to annoy her. Trot and a single cannabis plant hardly constituted the basis for a drug cartel, but it was probably another of his little demonstrations to show her how young at heart and open-minded he was — another ruse to gain Finn’s admiration. The sympathy and kindness he had shown her so recently were apparently forgotten, and Trot had returned to his previous preoccupations. He hadn’t even asked her how she was (although to be fair, she hadn’t given him much chance).

  Alice got out the remains of a bottle of wine and poured herself a large glass. This was one of the occasions when it would have been nice to be able to phone Jay — to talk about Finn and Trot and their revolting plant, and gain herself a little sympathy. But Jay was probably still at the hospital, or maybe at home with Angela, cosily watching television; or, worse, looking through baby catalogues and choosing nursery furniture. Alice knew very little about Angela, but she imagined her to be the kind of woman who would have a pretty-pretty nursery, with matching everything and tinkly mobiles and a Peter Rabbit frieze.

  It would all be very different from when she had had Finn. She had been living in a studio flat — the kind that was ideal for a single career woman, but almost impossible for a mother with a young baby — and while her parents had offered her a bedroom at home, it was too far from work and Alice was too independent. So she and Finn had coped as best they could, Finn sleeping in his very second-hand cot in the corner while Alice typed her articles between feeds. By the time he was crawling, things were becoming difficult, and when he could not only reach the door handle but manage to let himself out onto the landing, life became impossible. Before Alice bought her first tiny house, Finn had contrived to escape and fall down the stairs three times, and the neighbours were threatening to complain to the authorities.

  While Alice tried to keep off the subject of the baby when she and Jay were together, Angela was constantly on her mind. Ever since her bout of weeping when she was with Mavis and Gabs, she had been consumed with jealousy. It was as though the green-eyed monster had been let out of the bag, and now there was no getting it back in again. Never hitherto a jealous person, she had been both astonished and ashamed at the strength of her feelings. She had never especially wanted marriage, and she certainly hadn’t considered the possibility of more children, but the thought of that baby — that collection of Jay’s cells — growing inside another woman was intolerable. Suddenly, the streets were full of women with babies, pregnant women, women pushing buggies. She even found herself wandering into the nursery department of a large store and fingering tiny sleepsuits, miniature shoes, and frilly little dresses.

  She told herself to get a grip, that this was ridiculous. She wasn’t a particularly maternal person, and while she would always be glad that she had had Finn, she wouldn’t have felt incomplete if she’d never had a child. But this was different. This was about Jay, about the man she loved. And it was, quite simply, unbearable.

  Would she feel better when the baby was born? When that little bit of Jay had finally exited Angela’s body? Alice had no idea. But she wouldn’t have that long to wait, since, as Angela had initially put her condition down to the menopause, the pregnancy had been diagnosed relatively late, and there were now only five months to go.

  Two nights later she met up with Jay in one of their regular haunts — a rather shoddy pub in the middle of nowhere, with so few customers that it was a miracle that it hadn’t closed down altogether. As often happened, Jay was late — some crisis at the hospital had required his attention — and Alice was kept waiting. And while she knew he couldn’t help it, she couldn’t help resenting the fact that as far as Jay’s priorities were concerned, she always seemed to come last.

  As soon as he arrived, they made their way over to “their” table (one with a good view of the door, against the unlikely event of the arrival of anyone they knew), and Jay fetched drinks from the near-deserted bar.

  “What’s up with you?” Alice asked him as he sat down beside her.

  “What do you mean, what’s up with me?”

  “You seem — I don’t know — more cheerful than usual,” Alice said.

  “Well, we’ve been trying out a new drug on a couple of patients, and so far the results are really promising. They’re so young, these two. Only kids, really. It would be wonderful if this could work for them.”

  “Yes. That’s great. Of course it is. But there’s something else. I can tell.”

  “Well…”

  “Go on.”

  “It’s the baby. This morning I — I felt it move.”

  Alice took a very slow, very careful sip of her drink, then replaced it on its stained beer mat.

  “How — how nice for you,” she said. Someone had written a telephone number on the beer mat in red biro. There was a name beside it. Brett? Ben? Something like that.

  “I wasn’t going to mention it. After all, what was the point?” Jay said. “But you did ask.”

  “Yes, I did ask.”

  “It’s hard keeping things from you,” Jay said. “I’m afraid you know me too well.”

  “Yes.”

  “Oh, Alice! Please don’t let this upset you. It has nothing to do with you — with us.”

  “Well, how do you want me to react? You can hardly expect me to be over the moon, can you?”

  “Of course not. I know that would be asking too much.”

  “Quite.” Alice wiped her hands on her skirt. “Anyway, I’d have thought that being a doctor, you’d be more matter-of-fact about — how would you put it? — foetal movements.”

  “I’ve never had much to do with babies or pregnancy. Not since my training, anyway. Besides, it’s different when — when it’s…”

  “Your own?”

  “Well, yes.”

  Fighting back her tears, Alice remembered Finn’s first fragile flutterings — the tiny movements that were only of interest to her, because of course there had been no one else to share them with. Then she thought of Angela — smug, lucky Angela — with Jay’s hands on her belly, with Jay to tell her how wonderful it all was, and, no doubt, how clever she was, too.

  “It’s no good,” she said. “I can’t. I just can’t.”

  “Can’t what?” Jay asked her.

  “Can’t be pleased, generous, nice — whatever it is you want me to be. I simply can’t bear it, Jay!”

  “Oh, darling! I’m so sorry.” Jay took her hand. “So, so sorry.”

  “No, you’re not. Nor should you be.” Alice searched in her bag for a tissue. “Having a baby is — wonderful. Of course it is. But at the moment, it’s simply too much to bear.” Her throat ached with holding back the tears. “I — I don’t know what to do.”

  “Darling, you don’t have to do anything. Just be yourself, and we’ll go on seeing each other as we’ve always done. I’ve told you and told you; this makes no difference to us. None at all.”

  “But it makes a difference to me,” Alice whispered. “Can’t you see? Your life’s going to chan
ge, and I’m going to be even more on the outside.”

  “You’ve always been on the outside of my marriage. You’ve said so yourself. But you’ll never be on the outside of my life. You’re the woman I love, the person I think about, want to be with, need.”

  “Yes. But now you’ll be a family. A proper family. I’ve never been — been a family.”

  “Of course you have. You are. You and Finn are a family, aren’t you?”

  “In a way. But it’s not the same.”

  “Drink up, and we’ll go and talk in the car,” Jay said, downing his beer. “We can’t talk properly here.”

  “You mean I can’t cry properly in here,” Alice said.

  “That too.”

  In the car, Alice wept and wept. It seemed that nowadays, she spent much of her time weeping, and while she knew it was unfair to inflict her grief on Jay, a part of her felt that he owed her something to atone for the misery his situation was causing her.

  “I can’t see a way out,” she said when the tears had abated.

  “There doesn’t have to be a way out. No one’s going anywhere. Nothing’s going to finish.”

  “Are you sure? Are you sure you’re still going to want me when you’ve got the baby?”

  “Darling Alice, I’ll always want you. You may give up on me, but I’ll never let you go. Not if I can help it. I’d give anything — anything — for this to be happening to us. For this to be our baby.”

  “Would you? Would you really?”

  “Of course I would! If things had been different and if you’d wanted it, I’d love to have had a baby with you. I can’t think of anything more wonderful.”

  “So — you’ve thought about this before? About us and babies?”

  “Oh, Alice, what do you think? I was in what I thought was a childless marriage, with a woman I didn’t — well, with Angela. And then you came into my life, and if things had been different, there would still have been time for us to have a family. Of course I thought about it. I thought about it more than you’ll ever know.”

  “Then why didn’t you say something?”

  “What would’ve been the point? We agreed from the beginning that I couldn’t leave Angela. So it would have been selfish of me to — to taunt you with what might have been. With what we could never have.” He stroked damp strands of hair back from her face and kissed her. “I do love you, you know. So, so much. I wish I could prove to you how much I love you.”