What Goes Around... (33 page)

Sometimes I don’t know whose thoughts I’m thinking, whose fantasies I tap into at times.

But I’m on medication and that’s my excuse!

So, I just sit there silent.

‘I should never have accused you,’ Jess says. ‘I had no right to, because…’

I watch the pony step into a canter, she is such a good rider, her back is so straight, yet she looks so relaxed. I watch Charlotte but my brain is busy.

I don’t want to know what Jess is about to tell me.

It’s a very conscious decision.

I’m not in denial.

I just don’t need to hear that it wasn’t Luke she shagge
d on the night of my daughter’s christening.

I don’t need it confirmed
, that the awkwardness that existed for a while afterwards, was because of what she did with my husband.

There’s another curse to once being a mistress.

You don’t get to protest too much when it happens to you.

You don’t get to kick and scream and scratch faces. Well, I guess you can, but what’s the point?

I can hear Jess crying.

I’ve always known.

Not really.

But somewhere in my mind I did.

And I guess I chose not to deal with it.

There’
s shit everywhere if you look.

I hear my drunken mother
’s words.

I just choose, this evening, not to see it.

I turn to my friend; I stop her, before she reveals all.

I don’t need dates.

Dr Patel was right.

I don’t need another to tell me about my marriage.

And yes, the four of us in Portugal should have come with a government warning.

Can you imagine?!

As you know, I already have.

And so too had my husband. I remember that night
, him stroking my arm. I think Jess would have been game for it too.

As for Luke?

I don’t know.

I look at Jess.

I did choose well.

‘I think,’ I stop her before she tells me. I stop her before she spills her guts. You can call it denial if you want to but I need a friend right now, and so too does Charlotte. ‘I really think that our friendship is way stronger than our marriages turned out to be.’

Bloody Hell, Lucy, did you really say that?

Yes, I did.

I stand up and I haul Jess to her feet as Charlotte trots towards us.

I did choose well
, because a few hours later, the three of us are painting our nails and then we lounge on the sofa and watch a movie.

Charlotte laughs and laughs as she shares a girly night with
Jess and me and yes, I do well.

So well, that instead of a fight and a night spent
on the motorway with my foot on the accelerator, scaring Charlotte, I can stay here in Wales for one more night and have the best night with my daughter and friend. So well, that the next morning I can cuddle Jess goodbye and thank her for a brilliant week.

Oh, I choose
very
well because the next day, when I am all indignant, I find myself pacing the floor of Dr Patel’s.

No, I don’t need more medication, she tells me. I a
m right to be upset, pissed off and hurt. I did well, Dr Patel tells me and then her kind brown eyes meet mine.

‘I’m proud of you, Lucy.’

The strange thing is, I’m proud of me too.

‘I don't want a board,’ I tell the estate agent. ‘And viewings are to be by appointment only and during school hours.’

‘People work.’ He points out.

‘Tough.’ If it's meant to be it will happen. I'm not having Charlotte being put through people trudging around when, the way the market is, it might not even sell.

She is excited though
, at the prospect of moving.

Honestly, we’ve chatted it through and I’ve explained to her that if I sell, then there is no reason she can’t stay at her school.

She just doesn’t want to go there.

She started at the local comprehensive yesterday and I’ve just come from dropping her off today and my heart is in knots as to how she is getting on.

‘You don’t want to turn away a prospective buyer,’ he warns me.

‘If they’re serious buyers, then I’ll make arrangements. If you don't want the house on your books, I’ll get someone else.’

He reassures me then, that of course he wants the house and yes he can sell it, he’s got the very person in mind actually! He took one look at me and saw a simpering widow, thought that he had me worked out…

He hasn't a clue!

‘I don't even want to hear about offers below the asking price.’

‘I have to keep you up-to-date if there is a serious offer.’

‘It’s a serious offer if it's the asking price or above,’ I tell him.

Oh, I tell him!

And no, he’s not getting a key.

Do you know how
many shagging opportunities estate agents have?

I can hear Marcus now. ‘I’m just taki
ng Lucy to look through a house.’ Then he’d select a key.

I was sixteen.

I’m sure there are nice reputable ones. I just hate the lot of them.

I have him crossing out clauses in the contract
.

He tells me he’s already dropping his percentage, when I argue
about it.

I make him drop it again.

Oh, I’m a bitch, I know that, but I can use it for good sometimes.

‘Well, thank you for the opportunity,’ he’s so pissed off that he can hardly get the words out. ‘I'm looking forward to working with you
, Lucy and selling your beautiful home.’

‘Working
for
me,’ I correct and watch his shoulders stiffen.

A
s I walk back in the house I realised that not once did I flirt.

Not once.

He tried.

I’m just not playing that game anymore.

I open the door to accept my online shopping delivery
, only to see that walking up my driveway is Simone.

It’s awful when your children fall out. I
t’s not as if we were ever close friends but it makes things really awkward. I'm angry at Felicity, which means I'm angry with her mum but then I remember how I felt when it seemed Charlotte was the bully. I remember how mortified and embarrassed I was, how I wondered how I could possibly face Felicity. I guess she must be feeling like that too, worse perhaps given all that’s happened.

‘Felicity told me that Charlotte isn't back at school.’

‘She’s started at the local comprehensive.’

‘Because of the bullying?’

“
What do you think
?” I’m tempted to say but I don't. It would be so easy to, and I'm tempted, so tempted to, because I can walk away with my head held high. I can blame it all on her child, on her parenting. I can say that this has nothing to do with me, or my finances, or all the mess that he left.

‘Be
cause of a whole lot of things.’ I say instead. ‘Come in.’

I put my shopping away as she talks to me.

She tells me she had no idea that Felicity could be like that. She talks about her guilt at not being around enough for her daughter. Yes, she drops her home after school but she then heads back to the office and she feels awful for not having had a clue what was going on.

I get it.

I put on the kettle as I keep putting my shopping away. I’ll make a pot of tea and then, I tell her, we’ll sit down and chat.

‘How do you do it, Lucy?’ Simone asks. ‘Who’s your cleaner?’

‘I got rid of her.’ I don’t offer that I couldn’t afford her any more, because that's not the entire truth either. ‘I do it better,’ I say. ‘And she got on my nerves – she kept using my mug.’

‘Rhonda!’ For the first time since she's been here, in fact for the first time with me, she starts laughing. ‘She uses my mug too,’ Simone says. ‘I’ve hidden it at the back of the cupboard’

‘That won’t stop her.’ I think of me driving around that day with no knickers on and my mug in my handbag and I start to laugh too.

‘I have to get rid of her but I just don't have
the time to find anybody else,’ Simone says, watching me put my shopping away, watching as I take my commercial size cling film and separate all the muffins and bread. ‘I keep meaning to try online shopping, it just takes forever to set up the lists.’

‘It's worth it when you do though,’ I say and I admire her for coming over. ‘Do you want me to help you get started?’

‘You don't have to do that.’

‘I've got time today, though it would be easier to do it at your house so we can go through the cupboards.’ I can see her starting to blush.

‘Rhonda hasn't been in, she's not coming until this afternoon.’

‘That’s n
o problem.’

We have a cup of tea
and chat for a while longer. Felicity wants to come and apologise properly to Charlotte, apparently, but I tell Simone that I need to speak to Charlotte about it first.

Then we head over to hers.

‘It’s a bit of a mess,’ Simone warns.

‘It’s fine,’ I say as I step in and yes
, it’s untidy but nothing terrible.

Then I open her fridge - and you should be proud of me. Whatever you think of me, you should be proud of me for this, because I promise my face does not move a muscle, I don’t even blink.

OMG!!!!!

I cannot tell you how bad it i
s–this is a woman with a cleaner every other day that we’re talking about, though fuck knows what Rhonda is doing.

Then I open her cupboards and I feel myself lick my lips in excitement.

I'm fascinated, I truly am.

I mean, how would you ever find anything?

How would you know what you had?

‘I'd love to drop to part-time and get on top of things.’ I turn and see this dull blush spreading over her cheeks. ‘But Heath isn’t getting so much work these days, there’s not much call for corporate pilots.’
This is possibly the most honest conversation that has ever taken place in the street – well, apart from between me and my hedge-trimming neighbour, but it took us years to get to that.

‘I'll sort you out,’ I give her a smile. ‘It’s what I’m good at.’

I am.

I really am.

I’m in my element in fact.

We line it all up on her benches and I sort about ten half open gravy tins into three and we do the same with an awful lot of salt.

We throw out more half open bags of pasta than I can count.

It doesn’t take me long.

Then I set to work on the fridge and by the time I’m done it’s practically empty, then onto the freezer I go.

‘I can’t take up all your day.’

‘I love it,’ I say, attacking twenty half used bags of frozen chips.

I sort out the online shopping, though really
, with the amount of food in the cupboards she shouldn't have to shop for weeks. Then I share my six minute breakfast routine with Simone but then Rhonda arrives. She does a bit of a double take when she sees me.

‘Over for a chat?’ Rhonda asks.

I tell her no, I’m here to sort out the house for Simone. I’m here to help her get on top of things and instead of us heading over to mine to get away from Rhonda, I turn to Simone.

‘Do you want me do your wardrobes?’

For a second I think she might kiss me.

I do do her wardrobes but
, in between, I pop out and I stand in whatever room Rhonda is hiding in and I watch.

I
think Rhonda knows that if things don’t improve then she’ll be hearing a repeat of a conversation that she once had with me.

About how she does nothing and how dare she use my mug.

‘I’m coming back for the airing cupboard,’ I tell Simone when it’s coming up for three and I need to pick up Charlotte.

‘Here.’ 

My euphoria vanishes as Simone tries to hand me a cheque. ‘You really know how to make somebody feel small.’ For a second there I thought I’d actually made a friend.

‘Look who it’s made out to, Lucy,’ she says. ‘You’re starting up your own business and I'm your first client. Lucy, have you any idea how many people would kill to have someone like you to sort them out?’

I look down to the cheque and I see who it’s made out to.

Lucy's Lists

Do you know what?

I like it.