Another Mother's Life (46 page)

“Ouch,” Kirsty said. “And anyway, it’s not true. Not with Sam; when we went round there the other night he was stone-cold sober.”

“Yes,
he
was,” Catherine replied, raising a brow. “Look, it’s been a big weekend, a massive one, seeing Alison again, drinking tequila, things finally coming to a head with Jimmy. I need time to readjust and get used to the life I have now. At the moment it doesn’t seem real.”

“But you and Jimmy were over two years ago,” Kirsty said. “How much readjusting do you need?”

“Yes, but back then we were over because he cheated on me and I was devastated, and now we’re over because I told him we are and now he’s devastated, which makes me feel …”

“Devastated too?” Kirsty chanced.

“Sad,” Catherine said, nodding.

“Well, you are sad,” Kirsty said. “I won’t argue with that. Come on, come down to the Goat and celebrate your freedom.”

Catherine pursed her lips. “Another time, but maybe not at the Goat.”

“But you just said you’re over the Goat, come on,” Kirsty encouraged her. “It’s been two years, what could be more symbolic of your moving on?”

“Eyeliner,” Catherine said. “And I’m not ready for that either.”

“What in God’s name are you talking about?” Kirsty asked, peering at her. “Did you eat the worm in the tequila bottle? Because you don’t seem like someone who’s just found her best friend and ditched her deadweight husband at all.”

“Just go out and have a nice time with Alison and cheer her
up,” Catherine said. “I just want to stay at home tonight and readjust. That’s what I want. I’m doing what I want.”

“God, you’re selfish,” Kirsty said. “I was hoping to sneak off with Sam after half an hour or so, now I’ll have to keep an eye on her all night.”

“Ah, well,” Catherine said with a cheery smile as she closed the door on Kirsty. “That’s what friends are for!”

S
o Marc was okay with you going out on the town after you finally split?” Kirsty asked Alison as she led her into the music bar at the Goat; it was a small space and packed to the rafters with the Monday night crowd who always turned up for the live music. “He didn’t expect you to observe a period of mourning like Catherine seems to think she has to?”

“He wasn’t there,” Alison said, having to speak up as the band struck up. “He didn’t come back from the office before I left. I thought about phoning him but then I thought what if he’s flat hunting or talking to a solicitor or knocking off his secretary. And somehow it doesn’t seem right for me to ask him to come home so that I can go out. I couldn’t leave Dominic in charge after his recent escapades. I think he needs someone to be in charge of him. So I asked the neighbor instead. She lent me her au pair, German girl. Very no-nonsense.”

“How generous,” Kirsty said loudly, as she waved a ten-pound
note at the barman and grinned at him. “I hope one day I’ll be rich enough to lend other human beings to people.”

“You know what I mean,” Alison said. “Anyway, I don’t think I’m going to be rich enough to be borrowing them from people for very long. A three-bedroom house and some kind of job is what my future holds.” She smiled and took a gin and tonic from Kirsty. They made their way through the crowd to the back of the room, where they could get a good view of the whole room.

“So tell me,” Alison said, leaning close to Kirsty so that she could hear her. “I haven’t been on the dating scene in fifteen years. What do you do these days?” Kirsty laughed.

“I see you don’t have to go through a period of readjustment, like some people.” She grinned.

“The last fifteen years of my life have been about readjusting,” Alison said. “And probably the next fifteen will be too, but now I want to have some fun.”

“Well, first you scan the room, look for someone you fancy,” Kirsty instructed her, “and then you catch his eye, make sure he knows you are checking him out, and then you go over there and flirt.”

“You make it sound like falling off a log,” Alison said skeptically.

“It’s usually a lot easier if you are so drunk that if you were standing on a log you would fall off it,” Kirsty replied. “To be fair, a lot of people think that when a girl gets to a certain age she should start to be a little more reserved and a little less naked. But I say fuck ’em. Now, see anything you like?”

Alison trawled the busy room until through a gap in the crowd she glimpsed the back of a man’s head, long hair pulled back into a ponytail, a battered leather jacket on the back of his chair. He looked exactly like Jimmy Ashley from behind. He was the only person in the room who wasn’t facing the small stage.

“Okay,” she said, target identified. “What next?”

“Make eye contact,” Kirsty said, looking in the opposite direction for her boyfriend.

“He’s got his back to me,” Alison said. Kirsty looked at her.

“You’ve decided you fancy someone from the back of his head?” she asked. “You’re not fussy, are you?”

“I’m only practicing,” Alison said.

“Okay, well go over to where he is standing and make eye contact,” Kirsty ordered her.

“You mean just go over and stand in front of him and stare at him until he looks at me?” Alison asked her. “He’ll think I’m nuts.”

“You asked me how to meet men, not how to become a secret agent,” Kirsty said. “Go on.”

Alison looked at the back of the man’s head. This seemed like a very odd place to come for a quiet drink.

“What if he’s a serial killer?” she said.

“Perfect, then he won’t be too needy,” Kirsty said, her face lighting up as Sam walked in the door. “Now, off you go. I’m not buying you another drink until you report back. Think of it as rehabilitation.”

Alison watched the look on Kirsty’s face as her boyfriend crossed the room and kissed her. She wondered if she would ever feel that way about someone again, or if anyone would ever feel that way about her. Well, every journey started with a single step, even if in this case it was in all likelihood a very ill-advised one. Alison took a breath and began to make her way through the crowd toward the back of the man’s head.

“If I get all this way and he turns out to be a woman …” she thought to herself as she approached him, getting past the thickest part of the crowd and emerging in the near-empty seating area that was strewn with jackets and coats and where only one person
was sitting. Not quite sure how to position herself in order to make eye contact with him (or change her mind and hurriedly make her exit), Alison walked over to the jukebox. She took a deep breath and turned around, hoping that the man looked a little bit like Jimmy Ashley.

Which was why she had mixed feelings when she found out he actually was Jimmy Ashley.

“You’re not supposed to be here,” Alison said just as the band took a break and the room filled with cheering and applause. Jimmy did not look up from his beer.

Taking another steadying breath, Alison went and sat opposite him. After a second or two he looked up.

“Oh, hi,” he said miserably. “Great band, right? Really good, really … young.”

“Why are you here?” Alison asked him. “Catherine said you’d gone to London.”

“I did, got there last night, there was no session work, but a mate tipped me off about something else and I went to an audition this morning.” Jimmy sighed. “I got the job.”

“Jimmy, that’s fantastic,” Alison said, reaching out impulsively and covering his hand with her own.

“It’s with this Gothic rock band my mate knows,” Jimmy said desolately. “Their guitarist accidentally cut off his thumb during a fake satanic ritual; they picked it up and managed to sew it back on but he’ll be out for weeks and they’ve got a tour coming up. The stuff they play is pretty basic, so I picked it up quick. They said with some black eyeliner and hair dye I’d be perfect. Oh yeah, and I’ve got to straighten my hair too, because apparently the minions of hell don’t have a natural curl.”

“Wow, that is exciting,” Alison said, struggling to keep up her enthusiasm when his misery was like a huge gaping chasm that sucked all the joy from the room. “What are they called?”

“Skull Incursion,” Jimmy said dolefully. “Shit name.”

“I’ve heard of them!” Alison said excitedly. “Dom likes them … they’re
awful
.”

“I know,” Jimmy said. “But it’s not forever. Just while they’re touring and this guy’s thumb graft takes. But it’s good money and eight weeks’ work while they’re on tour.”

“On tour,” Alison said. “With a band, that’s cool, right?”

“In Croatia,” Jimmy added. “Skull Incursion are big in Croatia.”

“Oh,” Alison said, desperately wishing she had ordered another drink before she came over here. “I hear it’s lovely out there in the spring.”

“It probably is, but Skull Incursion doesn’t play in direct sunlight, it contravenes vampire health-and-safety-in-the-workplace regulations. Anyway, the flight leaves at five o’clock in the morning.”

“Tomorrow?” Alison looked at her watch. “Then why are you here?”

“I came to say good-bye to Cat and the girls,” Jimmy said. “Couldn’t just go without saying good-bye to them.”

Alison looked at her watch.

“Okay, so then why are you in the pub?”

“I thought I’d revisit the scene of my downfall first,” Jimmy said. “The place where I fucked up so badly that one day I’d be taking a nocturnal tour with a bunch of faux vampires. I had a couple of pints and now … now I don’t think I can see her. She’ll just be all beautiful and amazing and not in love with me, and when I tell her I’m going away for eight weeks she’ll be really supportive and pleased for me and I don’t want her to be. I want her to fling her arms around me and say, Don’t go, Jim, don’t go because I love you and I can’t live without you no matter how much you get paid for dyeing your hair black and wearing a pair of fangs.”

Alison couldn’t help but smile at him. He was even sexy when he was being all miserable over another woman.

“Jimmy, just go and see her,” she told him. “If you don’t you’ll regret it.”

“There’s hours yet. Buy me a drink first,” Jimmy said, looking at her directly for the first time, which made Alison sit back a little in her chair.

“Okay, then,” she said slowly as Jimmy watched her. “I will. Back in a minute.”

“Two Jack Daniel’s and Coke, please,” Alison shouted across the bar as the band began their second set. Kirsty appeared at her side and clapped her on the back.

“I must say I didn’t think you’d actually go through with it,” she said admiringly in Alison’s ear as she picked up a drink. “Thanks for this, I don’t normally drink whiskey, but …”

“Ah, that’s not for you,” Alison said. “It’s for the man I picked up who is not a man but Jimmy Ashley. He’s here in Farmington incognito and he needs someone to talk to before he goes round to see Cathy.”

Kirsty narrowed her eyes.

“Are you going to offer him sex again?” she asked her.

“No, I am not,” Alison stated firmly. “Even if I do really fancy him and I’m fairly sure he’d go for it because he’s depressed and confused and a bit drunk. But I do have some standards and taking advantage of a vulnerable man is not one of them. Besides, I ruled him out when Cathy and I called a truce. I’m not going to make that mistake again.”

“Hmm,” Kirsty said, scrutinizing Alison for a moment. “Well, if it wasn’t for the fact that my gorgeous and incredibly well-hung boyfriend wants to take me home, I’d come with you, but as it is, I’d much rather be snogging him than listening to Jimmy go on about how rubbish he is. Will you be okay if we shoot off?”

Alison looked over at where Jimmy was sitting.

“Yes,” she said firmly.

“Are you sure?” Kirsty asked her. “You could come with us now, we’ll walk you home.”

“No, you go,” Alison said. “I can handle him. I can do this for Catherine. After all, I’m a grown-up now.”

Catherine looked at the TV screen and sipped her wine. Sometimes she wished that Jimmy had a mobile phone like the rest of the planet. Then at least she could call him and find out how he was doing. Ask him if he’d found a place to stay, got anyone to give him some food, that sort of thing.

Then she kicked herself hard.

He was a grown man, he could cope in the world on his own without her worrying about him. In fact, the very last thing he’d want would be her worrying about him. The trouble was over the last nine years she’d gotten into the habit of caring about him. It would be a hard habit to get out of. It unsettled her that he hadn’t phoned to say good night to the girls, something he always did when he was away. It was probably nothing to worry about, either he was working in some studio and couldn’t get out in time to find a pay phone or … well, there was always the possibility that he was dead in an alleyway somewhere, because there were very few things that would keep him from saying good night to his daughters, and death was one of them. Catherine was determined not to worry about that, however. She was determined not to think about Jimmy, period. The only trouble was the more she thought about ways to not think about him the more she thought about him. Turning her brain off was much harder than she’d thought it should be.