183 Times a Year (16 page)

‘
Sicko,' I reply.

Joe laughs and tells me I look like Mum. I pretend to be mortified but secretly I'm pleased coz I think he's actually giving me a jab handed (or is it back handed?) compliment.

He asks me about my piano playing, which makes me a little wary at first coz everyone usually takes the piss of me.

Joe lights another ciggie. ‘So are you like gonna play the piano for a living, be a popstar or summit?' Fuck, he IS taking the bloody piss.

‘I dunno, maybe,' I snap. ‘Haven't really given it much thought.'

Joe looks at me with surprised amusement, dragging heavily on his cigarette again, this time blowing two long streams of smoke from his nostrils.

‘Yo, don't be so moody bitch, I was only asking.' He's joking with me, surely he is? But why do I feel like crying and why do I feel so angry too?

‘Oh just forget it,' I say turning to walk back in the direction we've just come from. ‘Why don't you go back to bloody Pheebs?' I turn my head to look at Joe. He looks surprised but starts laughing. I turn away again.

‘Maybe I will,' he replies to my back. My heart sinks. ‘But maybe it's you I'm interested in,' he calls out again, ‘not her.' I stop walking and my tummy does a little somersault as my heart floats back up. I remain silent for a moment, still with my back turned, thinking. It's Joe that breaks the silence again.

‘Yo, bitch, c'mon, I gave up some important shit to be with you today.' I turn to look at him.

‘Please don't call me a bitch.' He smiles at me, a warm, sexy smile, and my tummy flips again.

‘Okay,' he replies, ‘I take it you haven't got any objections to being called babe though instead?'

I smile. ‘No, babe is fine.'

He
walks back up to me and puts his arm around me. ‘What kinda music do you play then?'

‘All kinds,' I reply, shrugging my shoulders. ‘A little classical, some jazz and blues, pop, rock, whatevs really.'

‘Sick,' he says but I'm not sure he really means it. ‘So, does your Grandad really have a laboratory?'

I feel an uncomfortable heat crawl up my neck and across my face again. ‘No, not really. He has loads of books so it's more like his own private library.'

‘Really? Why does he have loads of books?' ‘Coz he likes reading.'

‘Really?' I can hear surprise in Joe's voice. ‘Yeah, really.'

‘He's not secretly cooking up Meth then? Or growing pot, or making zombies or something?'

I smirk. ‘No, think you've been watching too much TV or playing too many video games.'

Joe laughs, really loud. ‘Probably,' he agrees. We're quiet again for a moment.

‘So, your Dad drives a BMW does he?' ‘What? Oh yeah, he does. Why?'

‘Nice cars. Beamers.'

‘I s'pose. I wouldn't really know.'

‘Anyway,' Joe continues. ‘Just how often do you see that Godmother of yours?'

Chapter 14

DIVINE MADNESS

LIZZIE

It's fast approaching 10am. The house is quiet. Connor is at school, Cassie at Chelsea's house, Maisy at work – I think – and Simon has been staying away with work for a couple of nights. All I can hear is the gentle hum of the fridge. The dishwasher is loaded, the crumb infested work tops wiped down, and the washing folded and put away. After a manic couple of hours, surely representative of at least half the households in the country, I transcend into absolute peace and quiet. Nirvana, I fear, will never be found but for now I am at one with myself.

I close my eyes and listen to the sound of silence. Unfortunately, I have forgotten to turn my phone off and after mere seconds my peace is sabotaged by a ping from my phone, quickly followed by another, then another. Three texts have interrupted my fleeting moment of concord.

Oh well, peace and quiet is overrated anyway.

I pick up my phone, squinting, as I attempt to open my messages whilst simultaneously searching for my reading glasses. The first is from Simon,

Morning sexy lady. How are u and the kids? Have I told u lately that I love u? Because I do u know? xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

I smile.

Well, surely that was worth interrupting your Zen
?

The second text, and partly expected, is from my friend Jodi. We have arranged to meet for coffee but unfortunately
she
lives in what, from the outside looking in, appears to be a whirlwind of torment. Divorced, with a daughter the same age as Cassie and a son slightly older, Jodi met and married Rob, a slightly younger man without children. During one mad night of drunken passion, not long after they were married, Jodi and Rob thought it would be a good idea to have a child of their own. Jodi, despite her advancing years, immediately fell pregnant and the baby turned out to be twins – a boy and a girl, Joshua and Katie.

Their lot in life is now a daily survival route through the perpetual minefield that is the terrible twos and teenage tantrums. Mind you, Jodi did say there is barely any notable difference between the two; it's just that one set of children is more articulate than the other. She's optimistic though and lives in hope that her teenage children will again – one day – regain the use of comprehensible speech and converse in the same coherent manner as their younger siblings.

Hi hun, terribly sorry, the dog has just vomited and so have the twins. Been up most of the night, even the bags under my eyes have bags! Can't make coffee but u r welcome here for 4 1? Scuse the smell of vomit & disinfectant. xxx

As such events occur on a daily basis it's not unusual for Jodi to cancel or change plans at a minute's notice. The third text is from Cassie.

Are my red shirt and black leggings clean?

Fingers poised, I tap out my replies.

To Simon:
Sorry, who is this?!!!

To Jodi:
U sound like a friend in need! Will be there in an hour xxx

To Cassie:
Good morning Cassie. I have no idea. Why??

Xxx

From Jodi:
Thanx babe. R u sure u can handle the
vomit?!!!!
xxx

To Jodi:
Manage it on a daily basis at work, kids and adults alike! xxx

From Cassie:
Need em 4 pre pre-prinks 2nite. Am staying at Chelsea's by the way. Can u wash em 4 me pleeeeeaaaassse : ) xxxx

To Cassie:
I suppose so!! I have nothing better to do with my day off work after all xxx

From Cassie:
Yay! Sick! Thanku : ) xxxxxxxxxxxxxx

From Simon:
Oooops sorry, is this u Lizzie? Thought u were sum1 else!!

Seriously tho, do love u. Have booked the cottage in

Cornwall. Ask your parents to drop by 2 talk about it tonight xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

To Simon:
Will do. Love u2 xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Jodi wasn't exaggerating. The house reeks of an unpleasant fusion of pine disinfectant and vomit. My slightly dishevelled, sleep-deprived friend opens the door with one red faced bawling toddler balancing on her hip, the other fiercely wrapped around her left leg.

‘Come in, come in, welcome to Armageddon,' she sighs. Jodi looks exhausted and I'm no sooner in the door when she drops Katie into my unsuspecting arms, who incidentally is still screaming.

‘Here, take her for a minute will you,' Jodi says. ‘I haven't been able to prise either of them away from me for the last hour and I
really
need some caffeine.'

Jodi walks, dragging her left leg, as Joshua refuses to unfurl himself from it, into the kitchen and flicks the kettle on. ‘What was I thinking?' she says, hitting her forehead with the palm of her hand. ‘I'm too old for this shit!'

A few nursery rhymes later and both the twins have stopped
crying.
‘You can come and do that every day if you want,' Jodi says, grateful for the temporary free movement of both arms and legs again.

‘I would,' I reply. ‘But believe me, Rhymetime twice a week at the city library, with at least thirty plus kids under five, is more than enough for me.' I glance around Jodi's once immaculate, now toy-strewn kitchen. ‘I don't know how you do it?'

‘Believe me hun, neither do I.'

‘How's Rob?'

Jodi raises her eyes. ‘He's ok I suppose. I think he finds these two more of a handful than he imagined they'd be. I'd forgotten what passion killer's babies are. We snatch it where we can these days. It was a quickie across this very kitchen table the other morning,' Jodi laughs, tapping the table with her hand. I laugh with her, lifting my coffee cup off the table in mock disgust.

Joshua starts to grizzle. He stretches out two fat, dimpled arms towards Jodi. She picks him up and bounces him on her knee. Jodi's smile fades ‘Do you…' she begins to say but trails off.

‘Do I?' I repeat.

‘Oh I dunno. Maybe it's just me being oversensitive but … well …' Jodi sighs heavily and nods at a couple of photos of her eldest two children, Jack and Emily, ‘well, it's just that I know my two can be moody little fuckers. And that's partly down to being teenagers, partly because of the divorce, but I'm convinced Rob loves these two more than them.'

I smile but stay quiet for a moment. Jodi speaks again but her tone is suddenly defensive. ‘Don't get me wrong, Rob's pretty good with them and everything, especially when you think he was young, free and single four years ago, and now he's a father of four!'

‘Blended families, I think that's what the Americans call us?' I reply. ‘They're not easy are they? I rest a reassuring hand on
her
shoulder. ‘Simon and I often lock horns about parenting the kids.'

Jodi looks relieved. ‘Do you think you love Maisy differently to Cassie and Connor though?'

I pause for a moment to consider my answer.

‘If I'm being honest then, yeah I suppose I do. I carried my two inside me for nine months and there's something special, something amazing about that connection isn't there?'

‘Yeah tell me about it,' Jodi replies drolly. ‘Indigestion, fat ankles, stretch marks, stitches, sleepless nights – truly fucking amazing. Nothing else quite like it eh?'

I laugh. ‘Can't argue with that.'

‘But you do admit it's different?'

‘Yeah, of course it is. And anyone who says otherwise is a liar. But does that mean because it's different, it's worse or better? Does it mean I don't love and worry about Maisy? Respect her less as a person? Does it mean she pisses me off more, or less than my two? I'd say the answer was a definitive NO. Does it mean that from time to time, subconsciously or perhaps even consciously, Simon and I are slightly biased towards our own children? I'd say yes. Does that make us terrible people?

Well, again, I'd say no. It's like any other relationship. If you're willing to work at it, admit when you're wrong and build on all the positive moments then hopefully you'll get back from it as much as you invest in it.'

Jodi nods her head. ‘Yeah I suppose so. It's not easy though is it?' Her reply is more of a statement than it is a question.

A large, hunched over, body enters the kitchen interrupting us. He carries with him a slight smell of body odour intermingled with an overpowering whiff of aftershave. In fact, it smells as though he's poured a whole bottle over himself. He mumbles something completely incomprehensible to my ears, in a voice far too deep for his youthful, acne pustule and pit covered face.

‘
They're in the conservatory,' Jodi replies, pointing to a pair of large trainers. ‘And don't be rude,' she adds. ‘Say hello to Lizzie.'

The boy, who appears to carry the weight of the world on his slumped shoulders, throws me a sideways glance. He raises his hand slightly. ‘Hi Lizzie,' he mumbles rather reluctantly.

‘Hi Jack,' I reply to Jodi's eldest son. ‘How are you?'

He shrugs the bent shoulders that appear incapable of carrying his distinctly heavy adolescent head. ‘K, I s'pose.'

‘Have you had a shower this morning?' Jodi interrupts. ‘Yesssssss,' Jack hisses in reply.

‘I hope so,' Jodi continues unfazed. ‘What is it with boys and washing?' She looks at me and raises her eyes in question.

Jack appears most disgruntled, gathers his things together and mumbles something again. He heads for the front door.

‘Don't slam the …' Jodi begins to say but before she can finish her sentence the front door has crashed shut.

‘I can't imagine my Connor being like that. He's still so sweet, still hugs me. He picked some flowers for me on the way home from school the other day.'