Gucci Gucci Coo (13 page)

In the end, Ruby decided to play it safe with a pale pink tweedy suit with narrow fringes around the epaulets and cuffs. Her hair, which had a tendency to be wavy, could have done with a going-over with the straighteners, but there wasn’t time. Instead she tied it back.

Before she left she went into the bathroom to look for some headache pills. She’d spent the afternoon stock-taking. The stockroom was tiny and stuffy, and being there too long always gave her a headache. Usually it would have eased off on the drive home, but today it hadn’t.

She rummaged through the bathroom cabinet and realized she was out of Advil and Tylenol. All she could find were some prescription painkillers left over from when she’d pulled a shoulder muscle moving a display unit at the shop. She poured a glass of water and swallowed a couple. She reasoned that since the use-by date on the box had expired six months ago, the pills couldn’t possibly be as strong as when her doctor prescribed them.

The rush-hour traffic was solid all the way to Fulham. On top of that there was a ten-minute queue at Patisserie Valerie. Thanks to the painkillers, though, her headache had gone, which was a relief.

Despite the hold-ups, she made it to Fi’s just after five. Even though she was only a few minutes late, she was worried that the ceremony might already have started. By now, without Ruby there to keep an eye on her, Bridget could be causing all kinds of havoc. On top of that, making a late entrance was such bad manners, since it meant Ruby would be interrupting the proceedings and drawing attention to herself.

Once she’d parked, she sprinted down the street—inasmuch as she could sprint in pink suede heels. She stopped at the front gate and searched through her bag for her mobile. She needed to turn it onto silent so that there was no chance of it ringing during the ceremony. Having found the phone, she realized there was no need to turn it onto silent as the battery symbol was registering empty yet again.

Fi’s front door was open. The loud chatter coming from inside told Ruby that things hadn’t yet got under way. Letting out a small sigh of relief, she stepped inside the little house, whereupon her nose was instantly assailed by the aroma of fresh deli. Despite the thicket of people congregated in the living room, she could just about glimpse the buffet table. It was loaded with Himalayas of bagels, not to mention platters of cold cuts, smoked salmon, coleslaw and pickled herring.

Ruby’s first impression was that the guests were made up entirely of Saul’s elderly Jewish relatives. Tiny old ladies with dowager’s hump, cotton-candy hair and wonky eye shadow greeted elderly gents in fedoras and fawn car coats. She caught a few snippets of conversation, all of which seemed to concern the bountifulness of the buffet table and how much longer they might have to wait before somebody offered them a cup of tea.

Saul’s mum and dad were at the far end of the living room, trying and only partially succeeding to keep Ben occupied with a jack-in-the-box. They noticed her and waved hello. Ruby decided it was going to be almost impossible to fight her way through the crowd to reach them, so she waved back and mouthed “mazel tov.”

Eventually Ruby picked out a few of Fi’s relatives. They were the ones looking awkward and uneasy. It was pretty evident that none of them had been to a circumcision before and that they weren’t sure what to expect.

Fi, Saul and the baby were nowhere to be seen. Ruby suspected they were upstairs and that Fi was having second thoughts about going through with the circumcision.

Although Fi always maintained that in principle she had no problems with circumcision, the procedure itself still upset her. Ruby remembered being told that minutes before Ben’s circumcision was due to start, Fi had burst into tears because she felt so guilty about “mutilating my tiny baby.” Bridget had made it worse by putting in her two cents. No doubt she had done the same today and Saul was probably trying to comfort Fi and calm her down.

Ruby decided to look for Bridget and make sure she wasn’t attacking the rabbi with her rosary and accusing him of being a heathen. She decided to start with the kitchen. As she went to open the door, an old lady with a knobbly Jackie Stallone face-lift, heavy black eyeliner and a fuchsia trout pout that looked ready to burst, touched her on the arm. “I wouldn’t go in there, if I were you,” she said in a throaty American accent. “The grandmother’s shooed everybody out because she wants to get the baby to sleep. Lord knows why. He’s going to get a mighty rude wakeup call in a minute.” The woman laughed and then made a series of exaggerated chewing motions, which made her look like a strange tropical fish. “Those pickles on the buffet table look to die for, don’t you think? Actually, I’m something of a kosher pickle expert. You see my husband, Buddy, and I—”

“Sorry, I don’t mean to be rude,” Ruby interrupted, “but it’s actually Connor’s grandma I need to speak to.”

“Well, don’t expect a warm welcome. Between you and me, she seems like a bit of an old sourpuss.”

“Oh, she’s not so bad when you get to know her.” Ruby smiled. She opened the kitchen door.

Ruby closed the door behind her and put the Patisserie Valerie cake on the kitchen counter, along with all the other cakes people had brought.

Bridget, who appeared not to have heard her come in, was standing at the sink, her back toward Ruby, dressed in the same black suit she had worn to Fi and Saul’s wedding. In one arm she was cradling Connor, whose head she had positioned next to the trickling mixer tap.

“In the name of the Father, Son and Holy Ghost I baptize thee Connor Declan Weinberg.” With that, Bridget filled her cupped hand with water and drizzled it over Connor’s head. The baby let out a short, slightly disgruntled cry.

Ruby slapped her hand to her mouth to stop herself laughing. “Oh, my God,” she muttered under her breath, “the woman’s baptizing him under the kitchen tap.”

“There, there, little man,” Bridget said tenderly as she wiped the baby’s head with a tea towel and began planting kisses on his face. “It’s nothing to what that lot of heathens in there are about to do to you. Your poor little winky…What are they going to do to your poor little winky?” As she spoke she turned away from the sink and noticed Ruby.

“Fi’s refused to get a priest in to baptize him,” Bridget said simply, hugging Connor to her breast, “so I thought a little DIY one wouldn’t hurt.”

“I think it’s a lovely idea,” Ruby said, happening to notice how much tidier the kitchen was than when she’d visited the other day. She wondered if that was due to Bridget, too. She could just imagine her tearing round the house with a cloth and a bottle of bleach declaring the entire place a health hazard and making poor Fi feel even more inadequate.

“I had to do it,” Bridget whispered conspiratorially. “If that rabbi’s knife were to slip and he killed the poor little mite before he was in a state of grace, his soul would be in limbo.” She gave Connor one final kiss and maneuvered him into his baby seat. Despite the shock of the water, he was starting to fall asleep.

Ruby wasn’t about to get into a debate with Bridget about whether a compassionate God would allow an innocent baby’s soul to suffer. Anyway, she didn’t get a chance. Bridget was opening the fridge and taking out a bottle of champagne.

“It’s meant to be for later, but there’s plenty more on ice outside and I think I need something to steady my nerves. Will you join me?”

Ruby was never one to turn down a glass of champagne. “You bet,” she said, completely forgetting that only an hour ago she had taken two powerful painkillers and that the instructions on the box were to avoid alcohol. The cork popped, briefly jolting Connor from his sleep. As Bridget filled two glasses, Ruby decided she would try to move the conversation away from circumcision and onto something more neutral.

“So, how was your trip to Vancouver?” Ruby asked, remembering Bridget had been there recently to visit one of Fi’s sisters.

“Ah,” Bridget replied wistfully, “now, there’s a city. Did you know you can swim during the day and ski in the mountains at night? And the food…As you know, I don’t eat much red meat as a rule, on account of it aggravating my rheumatics, but one night we went to this hamburger joint…Vera’s, I think it was called. Ruby, I swear to God I’ve never tasted meat like it.”

“Really? That good, eh?”

“Oh, like you wouldn’t believe. I chose a cheeseburger. My son-in-law said I should go for the Veraburger, but that was plain and I like a bit of melted cheese on a burger—so long as it’s not too stringy. Anyway, when it came, it melted in the mouth.”

“Wow.”

“You barely needed to chew. I’d say it was succulent without being too rare. I don’t like my meat rare on account of the bacteria.”

“Very sensible.”

“And the fries. Done to a turn, they were…”

Bridget poured them a second glass of champagne. Fifteen minutes later she was still yakking. By now she had moved on to the superior health care, the superior tax system and various other superiors in Canada. Once again Ruby glanced surreptitiously at her watch and wondered why the ceremony hadn’t got under way. She was just beginning to think Fi had decided she couldn’t go through with it, when she walked into the kitchen. Relief spread across her face the moment she saw Ruby.

“Where have you been?” she said. “I’ve been trying to get you all afternoon, but your phone’s been off. Did you get my messages?”

“No, my batt—”

“OK, you will never guess what’s happened,” she broke in, her arms flapping with excitement. “It’s
the
most amazing coincidence…”

“What is?” Ruby frowned. She was picking up a strange vibe from Fi. Despite her friend’s enthusiasm, Ruby could detect anxiety in her eyes. She was getting the distinct impression that Fi was about to try and sell her something that she knew full well Ruby wouldn’t want to buy.

“Fi, why do I get the feeling I’m not going to like what’s coming next?”

Fi swallowed hard. “All right, I admit it might be a bit awkward at first. But I’m sure it’ll all work out. Please, promise me you won’t get upset or embarrassed.”

“Just tell me. What mustn’t I get upset or embarrassed about?”

Bridget had been putting a blanket over Connor and was only half listening to what her daughter was saying. “How can people not get upset when you’re about to cut into this little mite?”

Fi rolled her eyes. “Mum, please, stop it. I don’t need this now. Ben was fine after his circumcision and Connor will be, too. Now can we just drop it?”

Bridget gave an exaggerated, long-suffering sigh.

At this point Saul came in. Bridget offered him a look that could have stripped paint. He merely smiled back at her. Ruby couldn’t work out if his smile was one of contempt, or whether it was simply his way of keeping the peace. Knowing Saul it was bound to be the latter. “The rabbi’s ready,” he said to Fi. He gave Ruby a quick smile and a wave and said, “Speak to you later.”

Fi told Saul she wouldn’t be a moment. “You have to hang on while I tell Ruby what’s going on. She didn’t get my messages.”

“I’m sorry, I know it’s important, but it’ll have to wait,” Saul insisted. “Rabbi Sherman’s got two more circumcisions after ours and he’s running late. Plus my Aunty Faye is threatening to collapse into a diabetic coma if she doesn’t eat soon or get a cup of sweet tea.”

“So, offer to make her a cream cheese bagel. I’ll be literally ten seconds.”

“Fi, please…The rabbi just told me the medication to control his Parkinson’s is about to wear off. I’m pretty sure he’s joking, but…we really need you and Connor now.”

“Oh, all right,” Fi snorted. She scooped up the baby and followed Saul out of the kitchen. “Just don’t be cross with me,” Fi said, turning back to look at Ruby. “There was nothing I could do and I did try to warn you.”

“OK, but just tell me what it is I need to be warned about,” Ruby pleaded. “I’m starting to panic.” But Fi was gone.

W
HEN SHE ASKED
Bridget if she knew what Fi was talking about, she said she hadn’t the foggiest. “If I were you, darlin’, I wouldn’t take any notice. Her hormones are still all over the place after having the baby. Mark my words, it’ll be something of nothing.”

But Ruby was sure it wasn’t nothing. A few moments later, when she began to feel a bit light-headed, she put it down to a combination of champagne and apprehension. Then, as she got up from the kitchen table, she felt the top half of her body starting to sway. It was only as she reached out and gripped the kitchen table for support that she realized the sensation had less to do with unease and more to do with the painkillers she’d taken earlier, which weren’t meant to be mixed with alcohol. So much for her theory about them being less potent because they were past their use-by date. Now she was about to make a spectacle of herself in front of all those people and everybody would think she was drunk. Fi of course would never forgive her. Great.

“Are you sure you wouldn’t rather stay in here?” Ruby said to Bridget, who was now weeping and crossing herself. Ruby desperately hoped Bridget would decide to boycott the actual circumcision. First, it meant that there was no chance of her making a scene and upsetting the ceremony. It also meant Ruby could sit in the kitchen, sipping water until she felt better.

But Bridget insisted on going into the living room. “That innocent child will not go through this heathen ritual alone. He needs my moral support and I will be there for him.”

She began striding out of the kitchen, an unsteady Ruby close behind. For Bridget, “being there” meant standing right at the front, next to the rabbi, Saul, and Saul’s brother, Jake, who as godfather was holding the baby. Fi couldn’t bear to watch, so she was standing at the back of the room with Saul’s mother.

Ruby had enough to contend with, what with keeping herself upright and making sure Bridget didn’t cause any unpleasantness, that she didn’t pay much attention to who was standing nearby. She heard more than she saw. First there was Bridget still calling on Our Lady to “stop these heathens mutilating this poor little man.” Then there was one of Fi’s brothers telling her to put a sock in it, and that if it was good enough for the royal family, it was good enough for her.