Someone Like You (72 page)

‘Bye, darling,’ she said, blowing a kiss to the surprised gallery man. ‘I’m just popping next door to have a coffee.

I’ll be back later.’

Rising to the occasion, he blew her a dramatic kiss back.

‘Fine, sweetie, see you then.’

Skirt whirling, she left, whisking past Doug as if she didn’t know him. It wouldn’t be fair to muddy the waters for him. If he wanted Caitlin back, he might not want her to know about his friendship with Leonie.

Not, Leonie thought forlornly as she ordered a decaf and a doughnut in the coffee shop, that there was anything to their relationship other than pure friendship. She stirred her coffee miserably, suddenly realizing that she wished there was something more to it. Doug was lovely, kind, her friend. She wanted him to be more than a friend. Much more. And she’d had her chance but now she’d blown it.

Don’t be stupid, he was never interested in you anyway, she told herself firmly. What could she offer a man who’d gone out with someone like Caitlin, a little bombshell who was well under forty, had a fantastic career into the bargain, and who didn’t have to buy granny shoes to fit her huge feet?

She’d bet her life savings that Caitlin didn’t have a wardrobe of sloppy leggings and sweatshirts for her fat days.

No, if Caitlin had two wardrobes one would be a ‘Wow, I’m feeling sexy’ wardrobe and the other a ‘My God, I’m bloody gorgeous! wardrobe.

She sipped her coffee and stared out the window, longing for Doug to appear and tell her he’d sent Caitlin off with a flea in her perfectly shaped little ear. She’d drunk her second cup and eaten all of her bun when the gallery man appeared at the door. Spotting her, he waved dramatically and sashayed over, his pink tie shimmering into purple under the strip lighting.

‘Leonie, is it?’ he said.

She nodded.

‘Doug asked me to give you this and apologize on his behalf for not being able to bring you to the airport.’ He put a fifty-pound note on the table. ‘He’s sorry he can’t bring you, but Mademoiselle Caitlin is having hysterics and he’s calming her. “Diva” is not the word for the lady.’

The gallery man shuddered distastefully. ‘I’d slap her myself, but Doug wouldn’t like it and I’m so fond of him.’

Leonie was only half listening. She’d tuned out when she’d heard that Doug couldn’t give her a lift because he was comforting Caitlin. Doug was very reliable. He’d never let you down, not in a million years. Except for someone he really loved, someone he’d been away from for a few years and had now been reunited with.

Leonie felt her eyes brimming. She shoved the money back across the table. ‘No thanks,’ she said, as bravely as she could. ‘I don’t want it. I’ve loads of money. Doug was only doing me a favour,’ she added.

‘Really?’ The gallery man’s eyes were shrewd under their discreet coating of mascara. ‘Don’t be a fool, dearie,’ he advised. ‘I was a fool once and look at me now. Alone.

Say your piece, that’s my advice.’

Leaving the money on the table, he sashayed off.

Leonie grabbed the money and her bag and rushed out the door. She ran away from the gallery, panting in the August sunshine as she passed lines of cars sitting idly at the traffic lights. Her aim was to be as far away as possible so that she didn’t have to catch sight of Doug clutching Caitlin in a loving embrace. Finally, she reached the top of the road and ran round the corner. There was a taxi rank nearby, she remembered.

She was hot and sweating when she finally fell into a taxi, foundation running down her cheeks and her amber silk shirt stuck to her body. Whatever deodorant she’d sprayed on earlier had given up the ghost. But Leonie didn’t care. She sat in the back of the car, staring out of the window morosely.

The driver attempted to talk to her but when she answered in monosyllables, he gave up. They were nearing the airport when Leonie realized that she looked a sight, and quickly pulled out her make-up kit to repair the damage.

She was an hour early, so she sat in the arrivals hall, and leafed through a magazine, not really seeing the articles. Doug, oh Doug. Why didn’t I realize it earlier, she thought in despair. It was too late now.

Most of the passengers from the Boston flight had come out before Mel and Abby burst through the sliding doors, tanned, healthy and glowing, with a mountain of luggage and numerous carrier bags.

‘Mum!’ they shrieked when they saw her.

Leonie hugged them both, tears falling down her face with delight.

‘I’m so pleased to see you,’ she said, half laughing, half crying.

‘Us too,’ they chorused.

‘You both look wonderful,’ she cried. And they did.

Mel looked fantastic: gloriously brown and beautiful, long dark hair held back in a plait, smart in black nylon trousers and a swirly pink T-shirt with a lilac cardigan tied carelessly around her slim waist. But it was Abby who took her mother’s breath away. She’d shot up and was now taller than Mel. The extra height had elongated her body, making it sexily curved instead of stocky. She wore clinging faded jeans that showed off her long legs, along with a tight T-shirt in turquoise, which brought out the electric colour of her amazing eyes. Silver and turquoise American Indian bracelets rattled from her arms and she wore a silver choker round her tanned neck. Her hair, bleached by the sun, feathered around her shoulders and hung down her back. The look was relaxed, Thelma and Louise-style, and it suited her perfectly.

‘Abby, you look fantastic,’ Leonie said, standing back and admiring the beloved duckling who really had grown into a swan.

‘I feel fantastic,’ Abby said with a broad grin. ‘I feel me, not anyone else.’

‘She’s been reading those self-help books nonstop,’

giggled Mel. ‘I can’t find my inner power no matter what I do!’

‘You only find your inner power when you see a good looking guy,’ Abby teased.

As if by magic, a group of young guys weighed down with rucksacks walked past them and shot admiring glances at both girls. Mel, used to it, pouted prettily at them. But it was Abby’s reaction that astonished Leonie.

She looked at the men with a confident grin and then flicked her head away laughing, her hair shimmering round her shoulders. She exuded self-assurance, Leonie realized. Her baby had come home as an adult.

They talked nonstop in the taxi home.

‘I thought Doug was picking us up?’ Mel said.

‘He couldn’t make it,’ Leonie said brightly. ‘Now, tell me everything.’

Boston had been brilliant, Texas was better. Fliss’s father, Charlie, had a ranch in the Panhandle but also had a house near Taos in New Mexico, ‘this beautiful, cutesy little place where you can go skiing in winter,’ Mel said dreamily. ‘It was seriously amazing. Full of these New Age types, which Abby loved. She went out with one, Kurt his name was.’

Once, Abby would have gone puce if her twin had revealed such a thing. Now, she grinned and played with the suede thong that circled one tanned wrist. ‘He was a friend, that’s all, Mom. Mel wants everyone to be going out. That is so last year, Mel.’

At home, Penny went crazy with excitement, her golden body quivering with delight as she licked the twins and sniffed their suitcases ecstatically.

‘We missed you,’ Abby crooned, sitting cross-legged on the floor with the dog.

Clover ignored the welcoming party and chose to sit on top of the kitchen cupboards, watching the proceedings like a reigning monarch bored with her subjects.

Leonie had half-expected the girls to be disappointed to be home, but they seemed thrilled, delightedly exclaiming how much they’d missed the place, and how irritating it was being ultra-tidy all the time.

‘Fliss is, like, obsessed with tidiness,’ Mel said. ‘You’d hate it, Mom.’

Leonie smothered a giggle.

Mel immediately went off to phone her friends/enemies to tell them what a fabulous time she’d had, how brown she was and what incredible new clothes she’d got, clothes that you’d never be able to buy in Ireland, naturally.

Abby unpacked several small coloured boxes of herb and fruit teabags and offered to make a restorative brew for her mother. She’d given up regular tea and coffee, she told Leonie. She didn’t pollute her body with things like that any more. ‘You are what you eat,’ she said, explaining that fresh, healthy foods were so much better than any processed stuff. ‘Lemon is wonderfully revitalizing, I find,’ she said as she boiled the kettle, ‘although my favourite is cranberry and orange.’

Leonie sat on a kitchen chair and admired her tall, self assured daughter.

‘You look beautiful, Abby,’ she said with a catch in her throat. ‘I’m so proud of you.’

‘Try this,’ Abby said, proffering a cup of cranberry tea.

‘Lovely,’ Leonie said.

‘I was abusing my body,’ Abby explained, ‘I put the wrong things into it and I didn’t listen to it. That’s why I was depressed and hated myself. But I feel wonderful now.’

Her face glowed, Leonie thought. Her eyes sparkled and she was full of life, confident and happy.

Remembering the confused, angry girl who’d gone away just three months before, Leonie said a small silent prayer of thanks. And she thanked Fliss too. Whatever Fliss had done for Abby, Leonie was truly grateful.

‘Fliss has been great, obviously,’ she said.

‘It wasn’t Fliss,’ Abby said emphatically. ‘It was you, Mom. You did it for me. You’ve always been so strong and I couldn’t be. I was lost in trying to look like someone else. I…’ she searched for the right words, ‘wanted to look like Mel and talk like Fliss but be me. And you can’t do that.’

She laughed at the stupidity of the very idea. ‘We all owe it to ourselves to be ourselves. The course taught me that. I went to the eating-disorder counsellor for a while, and it was great, but when we went to Taos, I heard about this course. It was about healing and empowering yourself.

Mel thinks it’s mad, but it was just what I needed. You have to let go of all these silly notions you have of who you are and learn about who you really are. We had to talk about the people who inspired us and-‘ Abby’s eyes were shining - ‘I talked about you, Mom.’

Leonie’s eyes gleamed too, with tears.

‘I told them how you’d been brave to split up with Dad because you knew it wasn’t right, because you owed it to you, to Dad and to us, to be with the right person. And I told them all the sacrifices you make for us. I know, Mom, you buy second-hand clothes so we’ve got lovely new stuff.

Don’t think I wasn’t aware of it. I just never appreciated it before, I guess. When I was away from you, I did.’

‘Oh, Abby.’ Leonie reached out and took Abby’s silver ringed hand in hers. ‘I thought you couldn’t wait to get away from me to spend time with Fliss.’

‘I couldn’t wait to get away from myself,’ Abby admitted.

‘I was bulimic, Mom. I made myself sick, I’m sorry. I know I lied to you.’

Leonie couldn’t speak but held Abby’s hand even tighter.

‘I can’t believe how stupid I was,’ Abby continued. ‘I mean, you could have a heart attack from bulimia. It ruins your teeth and your gums, hurts your throat from vomiting all the stomach acid up, and it doesn’t even work. All it does is destroy you on the inside.’ She took a deep breath.

‘It was hard telling you that, Mom, because I lied to you.

But it’s important to face these things.’

She sounded so grownup, so in control of herself.

‘Abby, promise you’ll never do it again,’ Leonie begged.

Abby put her arms gently round her mother. ‘I won’t, Mom. I won’t for you and I won’t for me, you have my word.

To stop being bulimic, you’ve got to do it for yourself. That’s what healing is all about. It’s not always easy, you know, but I can do it. Especially when I have you with me.’

They sat around the kitchen table all evening, laughing and talking about the holiday. As usual, Mel had photos and, also as usual, she’d decapitated most of her subjects.

She seemed younger than her twin, Leonie realized.

Abby had grown so much for so many reasons, while Mel had never had to. She’d have to suffer at some stage, go through the pangs she’d effortlessly avoided now. Leonie knew Abby would be there for her when it happened.

‘Mom, I’m hungry,’ Abby said, prowling around the kitchen and opening cupboards. ‘Do we have any rocket, pesto and pine nuts?’

Leonie laughed heartily. ‘No. We’ll have to go to the supermarket tomorrow. Does your new healthy-eating plan mean I’ll be cooking four different types of meals every day?’

Abby stuck her tongue out wickedly. ‘I’ll have you eating my way before long, you wait and see.’

‘She will,’ Mel confirmed. ‘She won’t let me have double chocolate-chip ice cream any more.’

That night, Leonie got ready for bed feeling as if a giant load had been lifted from her shoulders. Abby was well, more than well, actually. Blooming. That was the most important thing in the world. So what if Leonie had a small ache in one corner of her heart over Doug. She had her girls, her beloved girls. What else did she need? She’d made the mistake of getting involved with Hugh and not noticing what was wrong with Abby. That wouldn’t happen again.

Men would not be a part of her life in the future, she decided emphatically. Who needed them anyway?

The next day, the three of them went shopping for clothes and school uniforms. School started in a week and Mel needed a new jumper, while Abby needed a new skirt as she’d shot up too much for the other one to fit. When they’d bought everything, they went to the latest Merchant Ivory movie and then to a Mexican restaurant to have something to eat. While she was with the twins, Leonie could forget about Doug. But they came home to find he’d left a brief message on the answerphone saying he’d ring back. Leonie spent the evening waiting for the phone to ring. She didn’t know quite how Doug was going to explain what had happened but she still wanted to hear his voice, to hear him say ‘Leo’ in that tender way of his. The phone rang all right: for the girls, endlessly. Doug didn’t phone.

He was obviously lost in love and deliriously happy with Caitlin, Leonie decided sadly.

She felt oddly dispirited as she went into work the next day. She should have been thrilled: Mel and Abby were home, delighted to see her, and Danny was due back the following week. But she felt a bit miserable.