The Chrysalid Conspiracy (45 page)

“Now for the jeans,” said Bridie. She gave Amelia a pair of socks and told her to tuck her jeans inside them. Amelia gasped when Bridie handed her a pair of her home-made, calf-length, decorated boots, with ‘Cuban’ high heels

“Bridie,” she protested. “I can’t take these.”

“Yes you can. If you don’t take these you don’t get this,” and she handed her a large safety pin.

“Dare I ask?” said Amelia.

“Put the safety pin through the top of the zip and undo that top button before you do some damage.” warned Bridie. She then draped a wide leather belt round Amelia’s waist to hide the reconstruction work. Using the full-length mirror in the bathroom, Amelia reviewed Bridie’s handiwork.

“Bridie, you are a genius,” she said. Never having been fashion conscience, she was secretly thrilled at the effect of her new look. Skin-tight hipster jeans, brown leather high-heeled boots, a matching belt and a completely out of character red blouse made her feel like something from a fashion catwalk. “But I don’t think it’s really me, is it?”

“Too late now, girl. It already is, and it looks a lot better than that old tracksuit.” came Rayn’s voice from the door behind her. “Amelia, you look fantastic. Mother? What have you done to her?”

“I’ll take credit for the clothes but, like you my dear, the body is all your own work. Well done. Both of you,” submitted Bridie.

“You don’t think it’s a bit over the top, then?” said Amelia, not quite sure whether she was fishing for compliments or reassurance.

“Over the top?” exclaimed Rayn. “I tell you what, you look so sexy you’ll drive Lorraine wild. She won’t know whether to walk beside you and enjoy your company or behind you and enjoy the view,” Rayn laughed.

“You mean I look gay?” Amelia was startled, the idea never having occurred to her. “I was going to get my hair cut short, but perhaps not, after all.”

“Don’t you dare,” cut in Bridie. “Your hair’s gorgeous. If hair was meant to be short it wouldn’t grow. You leave it alone. Anyway, I’ve got to go down to the site and get the barbecue going. Just in case anybody turns up.”

When they were alone again, Rayn took another good look at the new Amelia.

“God Amelia. You look so good in those jeans. I’m really jealous.”

“Well, you’ve got the figure for it. Why don’t you get some?” suggested Amelia.

“It wouldn’t be fair on Mum. We can’t afford things like that. Those hipster jeans are expensive and you only get what you pay for. If she had her way I’d still be wearing my babygro.”

“Okay then,” said Amelia. “I’ll wear these today and, if this safety pin holds out, we’ll go and do some mindless fashion shopping.”

“Amelia, you know…” Rayn started to object.

“Hey. It’s not charity,” interrupted Amelia. “I know your mum won’t let me pay for these boots and stuff, so the profits yours. No argument. You know Rayn, you really must get over his silly hang-up you have,” and she laughed as Rayn chased her from the bedroom.

As they made their way through the village, they walked past the Burger Bar where Joe was inside mopping the floor. The closed sign was up so Amelia tapped on the window.

“What are you up to now?” Rayn asked her.

“Inviting Joe to the barbecue. Don’t ask me why, but right now it feels right.”

He gave them a wave and a welcoming grin as he unlocked the door.

“Hi Joe,” said Amelia. “Want to come to a barbecue?”

“Sounds good,” said Joe. “Where and when?”

“Water meadows and now. Put those things away and come with us. You’ll know most of the people there, so you’ll be all right,” explained Amelia.

“That sounds even better. Washing floors isn’t on my list of fun things to do,” he laughed. “As long as I don’t have to eat burgers. That’s not on my list either.”

“That’s a promise,” agreed Rayn. “And you won’t have to clean up afterwards.”

“That’s even better. Thank you very much indeed. I’ll just get my keys.”

“You don’t need them. No cars are allowed down the lane on barbecue day, so you’re free to drink,” said Amelia.

“Yeah,” added Rayn. “Then all you have to worry about on the way back is that you don’t get your fingers trodden on by someone who can still walk.” She giggled at the mental image she’d conjured up.

They walked down the lane together, Joe towering between the already tall girls.

“Mighty Joe Young,” Rayn mused. “Did your parents know you would grow this big?”

“Actually, no,” he answered. “My real name is Albert,” he confessed. “The nickname just stuck. Can’t think why.”

The girls laughed and promised to keep the secret so as not to ruin his image.

“Is George cooking?” he asked them.

“You know George?” said Amelia.

“Of course he does. Who doesn’t?” Rayn answered for him, scornfully.

The first one to greet them when they arrived was Molly. She rushed over, greeted Joe, whom she knew well, and turned to Amelia. “I took the liberty of inviting some friends over,” she said. “Is that okay, Amelia? I brought some extra food so it wouldn’t cause a problem. It’s just that they were over our place with their children and the twins invited them. Well, you sort of had to be there really. What could I say? I’ve been ever so worried in case you wouldn’t like it. Under the circumstances, that is. What with your mum and everything. How is she, by the way?”

“Mum’s fine, they tell me. Thanks for asking.” Amelia became unusually irritated by Molly’s attitude towards her, but part of her knew that Molly was struggling with the situation.

Amelia had been feeling partly relieved that she’d been able to control the anxiety gnawing away in her stomach. The sick, empty feeling in her heart was a different matter; guilt for feeling so helpless. Deciding the problem was hers alone, she resolved to let Molly down easy and not cause an upset. The day was difficult enough.

“Hey Molly, it’s not up to me who you invite. This is
our
barbecue, not mine. Bring anyone you like. The more the merrier. Come on, introduce me and then you can show Joe off to everyone.” The relief on Molly’s face was a reward in itself and they made their way to where a heavily pregnant woman and her husband were sitting with Bridie.

“Amelia, this is Jahal and Jaz. They run the herbal remedies shop in the village.”

“Very pleased to meet you.” said Amelia with a smile as she and Molly sat with them. Joe, having discovered he knew most of the people there, had been seconded to the cooking area to show off his talents. At the table babies dominated the conversation. Not that Amelia knew much about the subject beyond the basics but, after having been asked how she was feeling for the umpteenth time, although well meant, she was very grateful for the respite.

Jahal and Jaz Ghote were of Indian descent. Amelia already knew that their little shop didn’t do very well and Jahal worked part-time at the Hall. She also knew that Jaz was a midwife, when she wasn’t busy being pregnant herself.

They were in their mid-thirties and wore casual western clothes. The three children, it was explained, were Remi, a shy young girl of ten, and her brothers, Partha eight, and the much more boisterous Zendi, who was the same age and classmate of Molly’s twins.

“There are an awful lot of kids in the paddock,” said Rayn. “I’d better go and give Caz a hand.” She gave Amelia a nod to let her know that her ‘lie detector’ had come up negative.

“Food’s up. Coming to get it, pleeze, you are?” called Antonio. Molly took the Ghotes over to the barbecue and as Amelia and Bridie followed them Bridie remarked how intelligent Jahal seemed to be.

“But he didn’t say a word. How can you draw that conclusion?” said Amelia.

Bridie laughed. “It’s a bit obvious. He’s stuck at a table with a bunch of women talking childbirth and babies. It’s a wise man who knows when to shut up. Don’t you think?”

Amelia laughed and, for the first time that day, it was genuine laughter.

“You’d better be careful, young lady,” said a voice behind her. “That outfit looks fully loaded.” It was Lorraine, wearing a large grin. “Congratulations. You look great.”

Amelia was initially offended by the innuendo but secretly pleased that someone had noticed.

“Thank you, Lorraine,” she responded. “No disrespect, but here I am in my so-called sexy new image, and the only one who says anything is a lesbian. What sort of a world is this?”

“Don’t worry,” said Bridie. “Most of them have noticed. They just think it’s not the right time to mention it.”

“That’s true, Amelia,” agreed Lorraine. “But your real problem is you don’t look your age. Remember, in my world, you are the prey. Do you think you can handle it?”

“I’m not sure,” Amelia replied.

“Well, don’t worry. I’ll give you some tips, and I know some great put-downers you can use. Seriously, if you need any help or advice on the subject, just ask. At least I know you’re straight!”

When she’d gone Amelia confided in Bridie. “She can tell I’m straight, just by looking at me when I’m dressed like this? Do you know, I’m not sure whether I’m pleased or offended,” and both Amelia and Bridie fell into fits of laughter. It was a relief from the sustained tension they were both under.

Amelia walked over to the paddock gate to say hello to Horace. Nigel was there, throwing the children about, teaching them how to fall and land properly without getting hurt. Molly called them and they rushed off to get some food.

“It was a good idea not to put the training equipment out, Nigel,” she said.

“I didn’t know if I should or not. I was waiting for you or George to show up, but Molly said it would be best to leave it this week. Is that all right?” he enquired nervously.

“Of course Nigel,” she said. She was continually agitated by the constant reference to the idea that she was, somehow, in a position of authority. But Nigel was different; he was special and needed constant reassurance.

“Don’t you worry,” she added, to put him at his ease, “that was exactly the right thing to do. And if ever you are in any doubt, trust Molly. You’ve got a good one there.”

“Oh, I know that, Amelia. I want to ask her to marry me. Do you think she would? Do you think the kids would mind?” he blurted out.

“Nigel,” said Amelia, her face taking on an enormous grin. “I’m so pleased. You go for it.”

“But do you think she’ll say yes? Or will she just laugh at me? I’m sorry, but I can’t think of anybody else to talk to about it. What do you think?” he was in earnest, desperate and breathless. “Can you help me, Amelia, please?”

“Personally, I think she’s just waiting for you to ask her. But I wouldn’t dare give you an answer. I’ve never even had a boyfriend, and I understand grown-ups less than they understand each other. Anyway, you won’t know till you ask her, and if you don’t ask her you’ll never know. So go for it. The kids adore you, anyway.”

“I suppose you’re right, but I don’t know the best way to go about it,” he procrastinated.

“Look, I’ll have a word with Bridie and you can get together with her. She’s more qualified for this than I am, and she’ll just advise and not stick her nose in. She can also keep her mouth shut.” Amelia didn’t feel as if she were letting him down. She knew she would do anything for her dearest friend, but this was way out of her depth and the best way she could help was to step back.

“Thanks, Amelia. But do you think…”

“Nigel.” Amelia silenced him. “As George is always saying, ‘Talk’s cheap because the supply outweighs the demand’. In other words, shut up and get on with it. I’ll have a word with Bridie in a minute and then it’s up to you.”

As he walked away, Amelia actually noticed a spring in his step. She was so pleased for him that she would have had one herself, but for the damp grass and those damned Cuban heels.

She wandered over to the long table, which had been adorned with bowls of exotic salads, baked potatoes, hot rolls and butter with a great swathe of sauces, pickles and spices down the middle. Plastic trays loaded with steaks, chops, and chicken pieces were being passed around as in some medieval feasting tournament. Everybody was seated with the children free to roam while they ate. The wine and beer flowed well and everyone had quickly become more relaxed.

Unable to eat, Amelia found herself standing in the place reserved for her mother at the end of the table. It had been left empty and a small posy of lucky heather looked up at her from the tablecloth.

The chatter died down and looking up she saw that all faces were turned toward her. It occurred to her that they expected her to say something and, caught off guard as she was, this wasn’t the time to walk away. With ice in her bowels she spoke.

“Thank you all for turning out today under the unusual circumstances.” To her surprise, the words flowed easily. Supported as she was by the sympathy and warmth she could feel emanated from her audience she began to feel calm and confident.

Giving what information she could about her mother, she then offered an open invitation from the gathering to Joe, Jahal and Jaz, not forgetting the children who were, at that moment, carrying out a well-coordinated and successful attack on a chocolate gateau. In response to the various remarks about how well she looked and how tall she had grown, her explanation of jeans too tight and high-heeled boots drew considerable laughter.

She politely asked everyone to stop asking how she was. She appreciated their concern but explained she was having trouble finding a variety of answers. She finished by warning them that, when her mum was out and about again, she was going to buy her a set of ‘Boadicean Hubcaps’ for her wheelchair. Hoots of laughter rang out as they imagined Lucy in the supermarket on a Saturday morning. Razor sharp extension blades on her wheel axles would certainly thin the crowd somewhat. She saw Molly explaining it to Nigel as she was given an enthusiastic round of applause.

The only thing that frightened her was the fact that she wasn’t frightened when she should have been shaking right down to her leather boots.

Afterwards, Joe spoke to her quietly. “Now I understand those chats we had at my place. It’s bad enough when it creeps up on you, but you’re so young it must be tearing you apart. I don’t know what’s going on here, but I can feel a storm in the air. If I can be of any help just let me know.” Before she could ask him what the hell he was talking about, he was gone.