Lipstick and Lies (31 page)

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Authors: Debbie Viggiano

BOOK: Lipstick and Lies
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‘Don’t be silly Cass.
You clearly ha
ve a stonking great hangover.’

I hauled myself upright.
Blinked owlishly.
‘Where are Henry and Eddie?’

‘Having a snooze.
They’ve had a very busy morning debating the best teething toys on the market,
discussing
the price of baby food and whether to take a kip in
either
the playpen
,
or Edd
ie’s cot with musical mobile.’

‘Isn’t it a bit early for them to take a nap?’ I massaged my temples gingerly.
A herd of elephants seemed to have t
aken up residence in my brain.

‘Not really.
It’s gone noon.’

‘What?’ I glanced at the bedside clock.
Ten past twelve.
How could that be?
‘Where is everybody?’

‘Well
,
when I arrived your mother-in-law was greeting a silver haired chappie by the name of Arthur
.
S
eemingly
he
turned up
a minute or two
before me.
Edna and Arthur were dressed in his ’n’ her
s
matching overalls
.
Moments later they
headed off to your garage
.
Edna was clutching
a portable CD player.
I ventured in there about an hour ago with a
cup of coffee for them both.’

‘Right.
I suppose
they’re working on the boat.’

‘That and singing.’

‘Singing?’

Morag nodded.
‘Rod Stewart.
Sailing.’

I groaned and swung my legs out of bed.
Right now water was a high priority.
Both to drink and wee.
Not necessarily in that order. ‘Excuse me a minute.’
I hauled myself to my feet
,
and
staggered off to the en-suite.

‘Do you always go to bed in your best cl
othes?’ Morag called after me.

‘Don’t be ridiculous,’ I snorted as I hoiked up my cocktail dress.
I froze.
S
tared at the crumpled material in horror.
Last night rushed back to greet me.
My headache threatened to go into overdrive.
I slumped down on the toilet seat.
The
Oxo
Tower
.
Dinner.
With Ethan and Selina.
But I hadn’t eaten any dinner.
Had I?
I’d looked at the menu.
Had a feeling I’d ordered.
Something.
What?
I couldn’t remember.
Doubling over I rested my head on my lap while my bladder did its stuff.
Flushing
the chain, I peeled off my dress and stepped into the shower.
I’d drink the water at th
e same time as washing myself.

When I came out of the bathroom with a towel wrapped about me, Morag had pulled the bed together.
She’d also lain out a fresh regulation uniform a
nd made some toast and coffee.

‘Give that to me,’ she took my crushed dress.
‘What a way
to treat such a sacred garment.

S
he smoothed the creases
before delving
into my wardrobe for a hanger.

‘I didn’t go to bed fully clo
thed on purpose,’ I protested.

‘Clearly you were
off your head
,’ Morag pursed her lips.

Annoyed
,
I rummaged in a drawer for some underwear.
How dare my friend go all sanctimonious on me!
I snatched up the freshly laundered joggers and stuck one leg in.
‘Oh do drop the face Morag,’ I rolled my eyes.
‘There have been plenty of
times you’ve been plastered.’

‘Sure,’ she swished clothes along the rail to make room for my Little Black Dress, ‘but not in front of my husband’s business partner.
There’s a time and a
place to get paralytic Cass.’

‘But I wasn’t paralytic!’ I pulled the long-sleeved t-shirt over my head.
‘I barely drank two glasses of champagne.’

Morag shut the wardrobe door and turned to face me.
‘Cass, two glasses of champagne wouldn’t h
ave you head banging a table.’

‘I didn’t head bang anything!’ I protested.
My hammering
skull
begged to differ.
I sat down on the bed.
Reached for the coffee.

‘Not according to Jamie.’

‘What?
When di
d you talk to Jamie?’

‘He was busy getting the kids out of the house.
He didn’t tell me much Cass.
Just the basics.
The bones of the evening.
Deli
vered through clenched teeth.’

I gulped.
Nothing ever ruffled my husband’s feathers.
He was always calm.
Capable.
In control.
He was my rock.
Since when had Jamie ever held a conversation
through
clenched teeth
?

A wave of nausea washed over me.
Perhaps I’d drunk more than I’d realised.
The truth was, I just couldn’t remember.
I put the toast down.

So, d
o tell all.’

‘There isn’t much to tell
.

Morag perched on the bed next to me.
‘We were meant to be heading over to Nell’s this morning to have a post-mortem about last night.
It’s meant to be
you
telling
us
what happened.’

I picked up the toast again.
‘Just spill the beans Morag,’ I bit into the soggy bread.
‘Tell me what Jamie said.’

‘Well,’ Morag took a deep breath, ‘he shooed the kids into the car and made sure Edna and Arthur were out of earshot.
Clearly the family is none the wiser about what happened.’

‘Go on.’

‘You drank too much
,
and made a complete ass of yourself.
Told everybody I was training to be an Olympic hurdler.
Ordered a ridiculous number of desserts.
Swayed on your chair as if riding a motorbike at Brands Hatch.
Finally you nose-dived into all the glassware on the table.
It’s a wonder you’ve not cut yourself.
Jamie said there
was broken glass everywhere.’

I shook my head.
This wasn’t true.
It simply couldn’t be.
‘And then what happened?’

‘The entire restaurant ground to a halt.
Jamie carried you out.
Ethan ordered a cab.
Home you came
, apparently o
ut cold all the way.’

‘And where is Jamie now?’

‘At the stables.
I took Eddie off him
,
for which he was grateful.
He said he thought he might stay with the kids for the day
,
and
do a bit of hanging out with Matt too
.
Something about a football match this afternoon.
He didn’t look at all happy Cass.
In fact
,
I’d go so far as to say
he looked absolutely furious.’

Furious?
My Jamie?
I was silent for a moment.
‘Sorry,’ I stared at the soggy toast and tepid coffee.
‘I can’t finish this.’

Morag sighed and took the cup and plate from me.
‘Can’t you remember anything about
last night?’ she asked gently.

‘Bits.
But not properly,’ I shook my head miserably.
‘I’d better ring Jamie.
Apologise.
And Ethan.
Oh God,’ I put my head in my hands, ‘Selina too.
Presumably she witnessed everything.’

‘I th
ink that goes without saying.’

‘I can’t bear it Morag.
It’s bad enough Ethan seeing me in that state.
But her!
That wretched woman!
Of all the people to
make a
prize prat
of myself
in front of–’

‘Look Cass.
Can I make a suggestion?’

The baby monitor crackled into life as a wail went up.
Eddie.
I took my head out of my hands.
‘What?’ I asked
,
as second wail began to duet
with the first
.
Henry.

‘Let Jamie calm down.
Give him some space.
Matt will jolly him up.
And if their footie team wins the match this afternoon
,
Jamie will perk up even more.
With a bit of luck
,
you’ll
just get your wrists slapped.’

‘As o
pposed to Jamie divorcing me.’

‘Don’t be silly.
Jamie worships the ground you walk on.’
The wails turned to outraged bellows.
‘Come on.
Let’s sort the boys out
, then get over to
Nell
’s
.’

‘Sh
e was expecting us hours ago.’

‘Nell has a new baby Cass.
Her daily schedule has just been tipped upside down.
I can assure you she’ll have lost com
plete track of time.’

Half an hour later our sons had been bottled, burped and changed
.
They
were now sitting docilely in their car seats as we drove to Nell’s.
Morag was behind the wheel.
H
er insistence on driving had nothing to do with
va
n
drivers suffering road rage
,
but everything to do with me being
potentially
over the limit.
I gazed glumly out the window.
Even listening to the happy sounds of Henry and Eddie blowing raspberries failed to lift my mood.
Eventually we turned into Nell’s cul-de-sac.
Transferring the boys from car seats
to hips, we rang the doorbell.

‘Have you got baby Rosie’s present?’ I asked
,
as we waited
for Nell to come to the door.

‘Yep.
Safe in my handbag.’
Morag patted the vast hold-all draped over one shoulder.

Nell greeted us in
her nightie and dressing gown.

‘See?’ Morag turned to me.
‘I told you Nell’s routine would have gone to pot.’
Morag leant in and gave my old neighbour a big hug.
‘Phew.
You smell a bit stinky.’

‘Hello Morag,’ Nell grinned wanly.
‘Nice to know you haven’t lost your sense of tact.
And that’s not me personally smelling whiffy.
It’s my darling daughter’s puke on this dressing gown.
I must buy some muslins.
Hi Cass,’ Nell squeezed me.
‘You look a bit peaky.
Can’t wait to hear about last night.
Good one by
the looks of your eyeballs.’

‘So good I can’t remember anything,’ I shut the door behind
us
.

‘Where’s Rosie?’ asked Morag.

‘Asleep upstairs.
Go and have a peek.’

‘I’ll be right back,’ said Morag tip-to
eing up the stairs with Henry.

I followed Nell into the kitchen.
Chaos reigned.
The dishwasher lid was down and the bottom shelf pulled out.
It had been emptied of some clean crockery
,
but abandoned half way through.
The sink was piled high with dirty dishes waiting to be stacked.
Congealed saucepans and empty sauce jars littered the worktop.
A plastic wicker basket was stationed next to an open washing machine from which clean laundry spilled.
Next to it was a pile of dirty laundry awaiting attention.
Tucked into the corner of the kitchen was a dog basket.
Rocket was curled up within.
She wagged her tail
,
but didn’t get up.

‘Your dog’s very subdued,’ I said.
‘What’s the matter with her?’

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