Another Mother's Life (36 page)

“Nothing,” Kirsty said, studiously reading the back of a package of microwaveable rice as if it held the secret to eternal life.

“Nothing?” Alison stopped stabbing, her fork hovering in midair.

“Well, obviously she doesn’t know you’re going to be here!” Kirsty exclaimed impatiently. “She would have never come, then! No, this way is best, like ripping a bandage off a wound quickly. She’ll get here, she’ll be shocked and angry, possibly violent. And then we’ll all have a glass of wine and laugh about it.” Kirsty bit her lip. “Hopefully.”

Alison put down the fork. “I’m going home,” she said blankly, heading for the front door. Kirsty stood in her way.

“No, you’re not. You’re the wound I’ve got to rip the bandage off of.” There was a sharp rap at the front door. “And besides, here she is now. Don’t worry, this is Catherine. As far as I know she’s never hit anyone. Not since she decked that tart who slept with her husband.”

“Hi!” Catherine chimed as Kirsty opened the front door. She handed Kirsty a bottle of sparkling rosé wine. “Do I ever need a drink. I hate it when the girls aren’t around, even if Eloise hates me. All I’ve done all day is pace around and think about—”

Catherine tried to step past Kirsty and into the living room, but Kirsty blocked her way. Catherine laughed and then frowned.

“What’s going on?” she asked Kirsty sternly. “Don’t tell me you’ve gone and ditched me for Sam, have you? Have you got him in there naked on the rug?”

Kirsty stood on her tiptoes as Catherine peered over her head.

“Now look,” Kirsty said. “Don’t get cross or don’t say anything …
loud
. Try to remember that I’m your friend and I love you, and believe it or not I listen to you. And so the only reason I’ve told this tiny little white lie is because I honestly thought that this was a really good idea, the perfect opportunity to banish all the demons and start afresh.”

“What have you done?” Catherine asked her, snatching back the bottle of wine on impulse.

Taking a breath, Kirsty stood aside and let Catherine in.

Alison was standing by the fireplace, clutching a glass of wine as if it were a life jacket.

“Hi, Cathy,” she said. “Fancy meeting you here.”

“I’m going home,” Catherine said, turning on her heel, but Kirsty stood with her back against the closed front door.

“Normally it’s men I have to prevent from leaving,” she joked for Alison’s benefit before lowering her voice. “No, you’re not leaving. Remember what you said to me? Remember that you said that when you saw her you didn’t hate her like you thought you would, that you even missed her a bit. Remember?”

“I know, but I’m not ready for this, and you know I’m not ready and that’s why you didn’t tell me.”

“I know you. I know you’d never be ready. Just like you’ll never be ready to divorce Jimmy unless someone makes you. Well, now you have to be ready. Just give her a chance, see how it goes. Wouldn’t it be nice to just clear this whole thing up once and for all and forget about it?”

“Look, I’ll leave,” Alison said, cutting into their whispered conversation.

“Oh for goodness’ sake, will everybody stop trying to leave before I start to take offense!” Kirsty stared hard at Catherine, who returned it with a look that said “I’ll get you later for this.”

“No,” Catherine said, backing away from the door and turning to face Alison. “No, don’t go. We’re here now and Kirsty’s microwave curries are famous for miles around.”

“Good,” Kirsty said efficiently. “Well, dinner will be ready in approximately forty-five seconds, so let me take that bottle and your coat and why don’t you two sit down and talk amongst yourselves.”

She waited for a moment as Catherine and Alison watched each other warily, then went into the kitchen.

“I didn’t know,” Alison said. “That you didn’t know. I wouldn’t have come if I’d realized she’d set us up. I thought you were happy to come. I was really pleased.”

“That’s Kirsty for you,” Catherine said. “Full of idiotic plans.”

“It’s weird seeing you after all this time,” Alison said tentatively. “You look great. I can see why my husband tried to kiss you.” Catherine’s mouth dropped open and she looked over her shoulder toward the kitchen. “No, no, Kirsty didn’t tell me and neither did he. I just found out. I’m not going to get upset about it now. I just thought that as we’re here on a new page, we might as well get everything out in the open.”

“I’m sorry,” Catherine said, with a shrug that hinted she wasn’t that sorry.

Alison raised her eyebrows.

“Well, don’t be too sorry. The last time I saw your husband I was on the verge of asking him to go to bed with me.” She tilted her head, adding a touch sharply, “I didn’t … that time.”

“As if I’d care what you did,” Catherine said, surprised by the tension she felt in her chest. “It’s got nothing to do with me.”

Alison watched her for a second. “If you say so,” she replied, unconvinced, adding with a smile, “Do you remember all those years I used to follow him around? He’s still a fox.”

“I know,” Catherine replied defensively, suddenly thinking of Jimmy and the way he’d looked at her when he’d found her with Marc. The intensity in his eyes had caught her off guard. No other man had ever looked at her the way he had. “But we’re split up, so …”

She trailed off, furious that Alison had managed to unnerve
her so with her half-baked revelation. This was not how it should be going. Catherine glowered at her erstwhile friend.

“So how’s it going in here?” Kirsty asked brightly as she came in with plates of steaming and largely orange food, adding proudly, “I chopped that coriander.”

“Awkwardly,” Catherine said, shooting her friend a look that Kirsty studiously ignored.

“Well, drink some more and that will sort
that
out,” Kirsty said, opening another bottle of wine. “Now come on, dinner is served and I haven’t slaved over this for, well, minutes just for it to spoil.”

There was silence as Kirsty refilled Catherine’s wineglass for the third time, watching her neighbor push a bit of irradiated chicken round her plate with a distinct lack of enthusiasm.

As soon as she topped off Alison’s glass, Alison emptied it almost immediately.

“It seems to be taking a lot of wine to loosen you two up,” Kirsty observed, looking at the empty bottle. “At this rate I’ll have to go to the liquor store.”

Neither one of her guests replied.

“Okay,” Kirsty said. “The way I look at it we can do one of two things here. Either we could treat this as a sort of therapy session. You two could air all of your grievances, talk about the sense of loss, the betrayal. You know, purge yourselves of all the bitterness and recriminations, hurl insults and accusations, make each other cry, and blah, blah, blah,
or
…”

“Or what?” Catherine asked.

“Go home?” Alison added hopefully, her eyes meeting Catherine’s briefly, as for the first time in fifteen years they had something in common.

“I’ve told you. Not an option,” Kirsty said quite sternly before
erupting into a smile once again. “
Or
we can make my house Switzerland. We can pretend we don’t know anything about stealing husbands, abandoning friends, inappropriate passes, and all of that sordid business you married types get up to, and just hang out and try to have a laugh. Tonight you are on neutral territory and from now on we shall not talk about anything to do with either of you. Here we shall talk woman to woman, friend to friend, and only of the truly important issues in today’s world.”

“Which are?” Catherine asked her.

“Me and how I can get Sam to like me, of course!” Kirsty replied. “You two men stealers must have a few tips on
that
. So drink up, we’ve got a lot of planning to do, and I always find the drunker I am the better my plans get.”

Kirsty put her palms on the table and looked around her.

“Speaking of which, where did I put that bottle of tequila?”

“I’m not sure this is a good plan,” Catherine said, screwing up her eyes as she sucked a wedge of lemon and then downed another shot of tequila.

“Don’t be crazy, it’s a genius plan,” Alison countered. “How could it possibly go wrong?”

Catherine wagged an unsteady finger at Alison. “You would say that, you’re the girl who thought it would be a good idea to smuggle vodka into school in Coke bottles.”

“I don’t know why you’re complaining, I took the fall for that one,” Alison said, turning to Kirsty. “Three days’ suspension I got, when she was just as drunk as me, except when I’m drunk I get all loud and hilarious and when she’s drunk she gets all quiet and sullen so no one could tell she was drunk.”

“I didn’t even know the vodka was in the Coke …” Catherine complained.

Kirsty topped off their shot glasses.

“Okay, let’s recap the plan. We go round to Sam’s flat and then what …”

“That’s as far as the plan got,” Alison said, downing her shot.

“That’s why it’s a terrible plan,” Catherine said, her eyes watering as she downed her shot. “Going round to a man’s flat at past … one in the morning to spy on him qualifies as stalking, not wooing.”

“She’s right,” Kirsty said. “I can’t just turn up there and peer in through his windows to look at him. That would be wrong. Also he lives on the second floor, so it would be dangerous too. When we’re there I’ll tell him I love him and then … then he’ll know.”

“Perfect,” Alison said.

“You are insane,” Catherine said, leaning forward on her elbows so that her nose was mere millimeters from Kirsty’s.

“I told you,” Alison said, tipping her chair back at a dangerous angle. “Sullen and morose, every time. She’s not a happy drunk.”

“I am not sullen,” Catherine protested, swinging her head in Alison’s direction. “I’m a very funny drunk. And anyway it’s better than being a slutty drunk …”

“
Anyway
,” Kirsty said, slapping her palm down on the table. “Catherine, you should be pleased. You’re always telling me I shouldn’t try to play games with him, that the whole ignoring him thing wouldn’t work. Well,
now
I’m listening to you.
Now
I’m going to talk to him. Woman to woman. Man to man. Man to woman to …whatever. I’m following your advice so actually this is
your
plan that you’re dissing.”

Catherine shook her head and began to stand up. “The pair of you are mentals and I’m not coming,” she said, swaying forward and using the table to steady herself. “I want no part of this madness!”

“Which is his flat?” Catherine hissed at the two other women crouched in the somewhat thorny bushes outside the Longsdale House Apartment building.

“It’s either that one,” Kirsty said, pointing rather vaguely at three or four windows at once, “or that one. Or that one.”

“The lights are on in that one,” Alison said, pointing at one set of illuminated windows. “Let’s try that one.”

“Hang on!” Catherine held her palms up in the universal stop sign. “What if that is not his flat?”

“Then we’ll try another one, obviously,” Alison said.

“That’s not a good idea.” Catherine frowned at her. “I don’t know why, I can’t remember just at the moment. But it’ll come back to me.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” Alison said, making a
w
with her fingers. “What
ever
.”

Kirsty had gotten up while they were squabbling and was kicking about on the ground; then she bent down rather unsteadily and picked up half a brick she found lurking in the bushes.

“And what are you going to do with that?” Alison asked her. “Brain him?”

“No, I’m going to chuck it at his window, you know—like they do in the films,” Kirsty replied, limbering up.

“That will go right through his window, you moron,” Catherine said. “If it even is his window. Come on. Let’s find some stones, pebbles. If you’re going to throw stones at a random window, you might as well do it properly.”

“Creep,” Alison said under her breath as she joined in the search on her hands and knees to look for pebbles.

“Tart,” Catherine replied as she clawed through the dirt.

“Ladder,” Kirsty added.

“What?” Catherine and Alison both said at once.

“Ladder, I could really do with a ladder,” Kirsty explained.

After a few minutes they had gotten together a handful of small stones for Kirsty to throw at the window that might or might not belong to Sam.

“Right, I’m ready,” Kirsty said, taking a deep breath. “This is it, girls. Showtime.”

She chucked the meager handful with all her might and they peppered the soil about a foot and a half in front of her.

“Oh. That didn’t go so well,” Kirsty said, looking confusedly at the ground. The three women stood in silence for a moment, puzzled by the anticlimax.

“I know!” Alison shouted before she remembered that this was a stealth operation. “Sing him a song.”

“Oooh, good idea,” Catherine said before immediately checking her enthusiasm for the plan. “Better than chucking bricks is what I mean. This whole thing is
mainly
a bad idea, but that particular part of it was a bit less bad than the rest.”