Читать книгу The Age of Misadventure - Judy Leigh - Страница 8

Business is frantic for the whole week in the salon. Although Jade has several clients in the gym each day, she spends most of her time ringing and texting her new boyfriend. I even hear her speaking Spanish to him, although I’m sure that’s for my benefit, as I know her Spanish isn’t fluent, given her compulsively bad behaviour in modern languages when she was at school. My friend Amanda, who trained as a beauty therapist with me years ago, is my full-time assistant in the salon. She and I are working through a fully booked schedule, doing manicures, pedicures, massages, tanning, waxing. It’s non-stop.

By Friday, we’ve hardly had time for a natter, so I suggest we have lunch upstairs together, especially since Jade is down below in the gym doing one-to-one isometrics with an amateur racing cyclist who’s just turned forty and wants to improve his chances of winning races. Amanda and I go up to the kitchen and I make us a salad sandwich and a cup of tea. She holds up her hands and examines her chipped nails.

‘I’m owed a manicure on the house, Georgie. Look at the state of these nails. I look like an alley cat.’

I put a coffee down in front of her and smile as she attacks it with relish. She’s been my friend since we were at college together and we share so much history. I watch her hunched over the table, her shoes off, wriggling her pink painted toes, her feet stretched out at the end of bright orange-and-black leggings. Her hair is long, wavy and intensely red; although, as she’s told me several times, the bottle proclaimed it was cherry copper. She has laughing blue eyes and loves to wear colourful clothes. ‘Unless I’m avoiding a fella. In which case it’s the SAS jumpsuit and a balaclava.’ Amanda’s been married twice and she’s now living with a firefighter called Rhys, whom she claims is the love of her life. Where romance is concerned, she’s a self-proclaimed expert.

She waves a hand. ‘The problem is, Georgie – we need more help in the treatment room and Jade’s too loved-up to get her backside in gear. I mean, I’ve worked with you here for what? Five years? How many days have I missed?’

‘Two. Both hangovers.’

‘I know,’ she sighs. ‘But, I’m always here to work, always good old Amanda ready to paint someone’s nails and dye their eyelashes, spray them fifty shades of orange. We’re flat out, you and me. Where’s Jade? When she’s finished with the client downstairs, she’ll be back on the phone again.’

I sigh. ‘She’s in love.’

‘My point entirely.’ Amanda holds up an empty plate. I dump a sandwich on it and she tackles it instantly. ‘Love should make people happy. If she’s in love, why is she so miserable?’

‘He plays football in London.’ I shake my head. ‘She can’t stop thinking about him, bless her.’ I mimic her low voice and pucker my lips. ‘Te extraño cariño.’

‘And what on earth does that mean?’

‘She misses him, I think. I’ve heard her say it a dozen times. It’s so unlike Jade to mope about a man.’

‘I know. And she’s always on the phone to him.’

I sigh. ‘All the time. She’s going to see him later tonight. Perhaps it’ll cheer her up.’

‘Where’s she off to?’

‘Brighton. He lives in a little village by the coast. She’ll be on the three o’clock train. Then she’s going to London to watch him play in a game tomorrow. She’s not back until Monday night. I’ve had to move all of her appointments.’

Amanda shakes her head. ‘Let’s hope he’s good-looking and loaded.’

‘Let’s hope he doesn’t let her down.’ I fold my arms. ‘Or he’ll have me to deal with, Spanish superstar or not.’

‘He’s called Luis, Mum.’

Amanda and I turn round together and our faces flush like two red lollipops. My daughter’s leaning against the doorpost. I wait for hell to break out and mutter, ‘Sorry, Jade – I didn’t—’

But she’s all smiles. ‘You’ll have to meet him. He’s lovely. I know you’ll adore him. His English isn’t so bad and he’s so cute and funny.’

‘As long as you don’t get hurt, Jade.’

‘I’m fine, Mum. I told you. He’s the one.’

Amanda chips in. ‘Your mum’s only saying – it’s all been a bit quick.’

Jade throws her head back, laughs out loud. ‘And this from the woman who’s had how many husbands and affairs?’

Amanda waggles her head. ‘When you’re a mum, you’ll understand.’

‘I thought you didn’t have any kids, Amanda.’ Jade’s as sharp as glass this afternoon.

I make the peace by hugging my daughter. ‘You have a lovely time this weekend.’

‘I’ll do my best. I have to travel from Brighton to London in a special car tomorrow. Luis’s on the team coach. I won’t see much of him all day. But we’ll make up for it tomorrow night.’

I stare at her and think about calling her a brazen hussy but I clamp my lips together and try to remember what it was like to be in love. I certainly don’t remember being so open about my sex life. I say, ‘That’s nice, love.’

Jade’s beaming. ‘Right. I’m going to get ready. I’ll take a taxi to the station. Luis’ll meet me at the other end. We’re going somewhere glamorous over the weekend so I’ll need clothes.’

She whirls away and Amanda rolls her eyes and murmurs, ‘Fair play. You can’t blame her for it. What a dazzling lifestyle.’

I nod. ‘What are you up to this weekend?’

She purses her lips. ‘Rhys and I are invited to an anniversary party in Blackpool tomorrow night, so I’ll need to shop for a new dress.’

I contemplate the weekend that I’ll spend by myself, a visit to Nanny Basham tonight and on Sunday, and I wonder what Bonnie’s up to, if she’s back from the spa hotel and if she’s happy. I push my salad sandwich away untouched and Amanda looks at me eagerly. I slide it onto her plate.

It’s Saturday morning, clean-up-the-house time, and I’m hoovering four floors for all I’m worth. I push the nozzle in all corners, my arms extended as if I’m part of the machine: I am Hoover Woman. I have the radio turned up loud, my hair knotted into a floppy scarf, and I’m wearing a baggy T-shirt, leggings and no shoes, singing at the top of my voice. I climb to the top floor and hoover the three bedrooms, then I clean the hallway and the kitchen on the second floor, as well as the living room overlooking the raised garden.

I work my way down to the salon at ground level, the three little treatment rooms, the tanning booth, the reception area with the soft sofas, the gurgling pebble fountain and the stone Buddha. Finally, I’m in the basement, in Jade’s gym with music playing through speakers. Cobwebs have gathered in the corners and the main area smells of fetid sweat, testosterone and men’s underpants: a stench that I know hasn’t come from Jade. I resolve to spray some sweet pea room fragrance in the air later; although Jade’ll sniff it out when she’s back and tell me it’s highly inappropriate. Most of her one-to-one sessions are either undersized or ridiculously muscly middle-aged men.

I’m hoovering under the gym machinery and I notice a spider or two beneath the benches. They’ve expired and become crusty and dry, many legs in the air, so I bend down, nozzle arched, to commit them to dust. My back is flexible and it’s not hard to reach the corners. I view it as good exercise. My favourite band strikes up the opening chords on the music player. I lift the nozzle as a microphone, wiggle my backside and sing along, bawling at the top of my voice, ‘Walk this way.’

Suddenly I freeze. I don’t know why. Then I turn round and he’s standing there with his arms folded, smiling. Dark hair parted at the side, separated in two thick quiff-shaped tufts, navy jacket, roll-neck sweater, navy trousers. He’s pale, shaven so clean his face reminds me of a cricket ball. He’s staring at me. I jump and almost scream. I’m so glad I don’t.

‘How the hell did you get in?’

He smirks. ‘The front door was open.’

I glare at him. ‘Well? What can I do for you, Adie?’

He looks me up and down and his mouth is half-snarl, half-smile.

‘Bonnie sent me over.’

I can hardly imagine that. I lean against the hoover pipe, nozzle in the air, and stare at him like I’m Joan of Arc with my flexible lance.

‘Did she?’

He smirks. ‘She wants you to come over to lunch. I thought I’d come and pick you up.’ He surveys my headscarf, my bare feet, everything in between. ‘You look as if you need taking out of here to somewhere civilised. A light lunch, a chat, two sisters together.’

I wonder why she didn’t ring or text. Perhaps I missed it. I close my eyes and think for a moment.

‘I can take my own car.’

He shakes his head. ‘Bonnie insisted. Have a glass of wine with her. I’ll do the taxi-ing. Anyway, I’m here now.’ He frowns at the leggings. ‘You’ll need to get changed.’

I want to see Bonnie. I’ll put up with the bloodsucker husband from here to Frodsham. Half an hour’s drive.

I nod. ‘You can wait in the car, then. I’ll be five minutes.’

He sits down on one of the benches, adjusts the back flap of his jacket, makes himself comfortable.

‘I’ll be all right here.’ He sniffs the air around me. ‘Make it ten minutes, Georgie. Have a shower.’

Standing outside the oak front door, Bonnie looks pallid and slender in a filmy dress and heels; her hair is glossy, curled in soft ringlets. She smiles and puts her arms round my neck.

‘Thanks for coming, Georgie. Adie and I had such a great time at the spa. I was so looking forward to chatting to you about it.’

She glances over my shoulder – I can feel the tension in her arms. Adie’s behind us, having parked the car.

He smirks. ‘I have a meeting in my office, Bonnie. I don’t want to be disturbed. You girls have a nice lunch together. I ordered in the Chablis and the smoked salmon specially.’

He saunters away, snake hips, hooded eyes, leaving the pungent smell of expensive aftershave in the air.

Bonnie takes my hand. ‘Come on, Georgie.’

I whisper, ‘I thought you were dumping him?’

She shrugs. ‘I’m not strong like you. And he needs me. He said so.’

I sigh loudly and we walk into the dining room, with high glass windows, a magnificent carved wood table. The view outside is of a vast clipped lawn, birds swirling around a feeder: blue tits, robins. Huge poplar trees frame the windowpane, and the steady dark roof of the swimming pool and leisure centre. I frown at my plate, slivered salmon and rocket. Bonnie fills two crystal glasses with pale wine. We both poke at the fish with silver forks, two mirror images. I break the silence.

‘So, tell me about the spa hotel, Bon.’

‘It was lovely.’

‘What treatments did you get?’

She sighs. ‘A pedicure, a massage. A facial where they put little needles in the skin.’

I nod. ‘Abrasion therapy. I’ve seen the machines they use. I’d love one but they’re expensive.’

She shakes her head. ‘I felt like I’d hugged a hedgehog by the time the therapist had finished with me.’ She lifts her head. ‘Does my skin look better?’

‘Marvellous.’ I wonder if she should’ve had a tan. She’s pale as a gravestone. I gulp some wine and ask the question. ‘So, did Adie behave himself?’

She frowns, a little crease between her eyes. ‘How do you mean?’

‘Oh, for God’s sake, Bonnie. How many other women have there been? You left him. Why the hell did you go back?’

She stiffens, looks perplexed, as if I’ve made a huge mistake or history has been rewritten. She nibbles a small portion of smoked salmon.

‘He apologised. He’ll never do it again.’

I put my fork down, sigh, reach for the Chablis. It’s cold and I feel the anaesthetic properties start to calm me, making me feel a little bolder and more protective.

‘I don’t know why you stay with him. He just wants you here as his trophy. The Barbie doll syndrome. Someone to dress up and keep indoors while he’s out money laundering.’

She breathes out so loudly it’s like a sharp gust of air. ‘Georgie, how can you say that?’ She clutches the knife and fork with white knuckles. ‘Adie worships me. Anyway, when you have a man who’ll do for you what he does for me – when you have a man at all, in fact—’

‘Don’t be naive.’

‘I’m not naive. You’re jealous.’

‘Jealous? Of you living with Shady Adie with the wandering womb weevil? I don’t think so.’

‘You’ve never liked him, Georgie.’ She’s going to cry.

‘Right first time. Because he’s no good.’ For her sake, I’m not holding back.

‘Why can’t you support me?’

‘Because he’s dishonest, Bonnie.’ There. I’ve said it: she needs to know.

She pouts. ‘He’s a successful businessman. A property developer.’

‘Have you ever seen any of the properties he dev—’

There’s a cough behind me and we both turn. A man in overalls is holding up a paintbrush. He’s short, stocky, fifty-something. He raises bushy eyebrows.

‘Excuse me, Mrs Carrick. Mr Carrick said I had to ask you about the feature wall in the bedroom. Did you want the new shade of Addiction or the Aubergine Dream?’

She sniffs. ‘Addiction.’ The decorator turns and shuffles off. ‘Adie’s left me in charge of Demi and Kyle’s extension.’

I gasp. ‘They’re living here?’

‘As soon as they’re back from the honeymoon. Just for a while. Until Adie finds them a house on the Wirral.’

‘I can’t imagine Kyle liking that. Or Demi.’

‘Adie said it’ll be nice for us all to stay together. They’ll have their privacy. And I’m in charge of the decorating.’

I stare at my sister and wave my fork in triumph. ‘You just can’t see it, can you, Bonnie? He has you all where he can control you. You’re just his little pawn.’

‘He bought me this.’ She whisks up her sleeve.

There’s a gold charm bracelet, loaded with shiny charms. She pushes her hand under my nose and I stare at the delicate gold shapes swinging: numbers, a flower, a crown, a mass of other tinkling trinkets.

I shake my head. ‘That wasn’t cheap.’

She looks directly in my eyes. ‘He said I’m worth the expense.’

I exhale. ‘It must give you a carpal tunnel problem …’

‘He made me promise never to take it off, Georgie. It’s a symbol of his love. Eternal and precious.’

I snort. ‘Did he get it in one of his dodgy deals?’

She opens her mouth to reply but her phone rings. She clutches it like a weapon and walks into another room. I breathe out sharply: I’m annoyed with myself. I should’ve convinced her calmly to leave him, kept my temper. My concern for my sister has made me outspoken. She’s too good for him, trusting and loyal. And here I go again, arguing with her, when all I really want is to protect her. Bonnie’s always been good-natured, but she used to have her own personality, a sparkiness, humour. I wonder when she became so dependent, so gullible. What happened to her self-confidence, her self-respect? I drain my glass and pour myself more wine.