A Funny Thing About Love (19 page)

‘It's a workshop in a community hall – just how much enjoyment can there be in that?' Carmen demanded.

‘Oh, I think you'll be pleasantly surprised. See you later,' Jess said breezily.

Just as Carmen left the kitchen she caught sight of the recycling box. It was full to the brim with wine bottles. ‘Blimey, Jess, you and Sean have been putting it away.'

Jess saw what she was looking at and said rather defensively, ‘There's several weeks there. Sean keeps forgetting to put it out.'

Walking to the nearby community hall where the dubious workshop was being held, Harry insisted on giving her a blow-by-blow account of the plot of
Dr Who
which he'd watched the night before, and then questioned her in forensic detail about who was her favourite doctor and why, and which was the scariest monster in her opinion. She had forgotten how demanding children could be, especially after only five hours' sleep.

Carmen hadn't really thought that clothing would be an issue in the workshop and so had simply put on what she intended to wear for lunch with Sadie and Marcus later: black skinny jeans, a black jumper with
bronze-studded shoulders, a scarlet-and-black leopard-print scarf, her Alexander McQueen biker jacket which she was still paying for and her black patent shoe boots. She had wanted to wear her ever-faithful UGGs but Marcus seemed to have hidden them somewhere. She felt she had gone for the casual look, but as soon as she walked into the community hall, she realised she was wildly overdressed. Quite obviously there was a casual look which had some thought to it like hers, and there was a casual look as in, I don't care a fig about what I'm wearing, clothes are functional and anyone who cares about them is superficial. There were around fifteen people, all accompanied by one or more child, all wearing a uniform of either combats or jeans and puffer jackets, in black, khaki and brown, clothes so resolutely plain they could have given the Amish a run for their money. Carmen seemed to be the only woman wearing make-up.

‘Harry,' she whispered, ‘do I look silly?'

Harry turned and considered her with his clear, candid child's gaze. ‘Nah, you look like you always do. But don't you have to take your shoes off ?' He pointed at the sign on one of the walls asking people with heels to remove them, to prevent marking the floor. Carmen looked down at the floor in horror. It was filthy. The hall was clearly used for a toddler group and there were breadstick crumbs scattered everywhere, along with raisins, bits of apple and the remains of a chocolate muffin squished into the floorboards – at least, she hoped it was chocolate muffin. Her lovely spiky-heeled
boots were the only thing between her and tetanus. She shook her head. ‘These boots won't leave a mark.' Both she and Harry looked down and saw the series of small but nonetheless visible grooves said boots were making. Harry raised his eyebrows and said nothing.

At that moment a striking woman with long auburn hair strode into the middle of the hall. There was no danger of her making any holes in the floor as she was wearing black sheepskin-lined Crocs – a style of footwear that Carmen abhorred. Truly Crocs must have been invented by someone who hated feet and wanted to make them look as ugly as possible, a kind of anti-foot fetishist. Carmen could not imagine slipping her dainty size four and a half pair into such a monstrosity. Croc lady had accessorised the Crocs with black leggings, a black miniskirt and a black North by Northwest jacket. She also had a pretty face, with big brown eyes and thick lashes which Carmen would have loved. Carmen put her at late thirties.

‘Hiya, my name's Violet and I'm going to be leading this workshop where we're going to make the wicker and paper lanterns that we'll use in the procession on the twenty-first of December. But before we start, is this anyone's first time?'

Rats! The last thing Carmen wanted to do was draw attention to herself. She was all set to ignore the question but Harry nudged her in the ribs. Damn children and their honesty! She'd have to fess up. She put up her hand.

‘Okay,' Violet replied, ‘I'll keep an eye on you and make sure you don't fall behind.' Unfortunately said eye was suddenly drawn to the boots. ‘I'm sorry, but you'll have to take those off. I can lend you a pair of Crocs.'

She was about to protest, but Violet had such an air of evangelical zeal about her that Carmen felt she would be deaf to her argument that forcing her to wear Crocs would be a violation of her human rights. She sat down on one of the worn orange plastic chairs at the side of the room, after first brushing away the pieces of mouldering apple, and unzipped her boots. Violet marched towards her holding up a bright yellow pair of the horrors. They were such a lurid yellow, it almost hurt Carmen's eyes to look at them.

‘Thanks,' she whispered, taking the shoes. Her very soul recoiled at the prospect of putting them on, never mind her soles! But Violet was already waving pieces of willow enthusiastically and Carmen knew if she didn't get her arse into gear and follow the demonstration she would be utterly lost. She did not have the artistic gene. Gingerly she inserted her feet into the plastic monstrosities. Then she stood up and shuffled over to Harry. The Crocs were at least three sizes too big for her, but surprisingly comfortable, not that she was
ever
going to buy a pair, not even to wear at home on her own in the dark.

‘Come on,' Harry said cheerfully, ‘we've got to get the pieces of willow first.' He marched purposefully over to one of the trestle tables set up around the hall and grabbed a handful of willow branches.

Carmen turned and watched Violet, who was creating some kind of pyramid shape with the strips of willow. It seemed an unlikely shape if it was supposed to represent the male member. Maybe it would be decorated with phallic symbols?

She was just going to ask when her attention was taken up by the arrival of a stunningly beautiful man, well over six foot, with luminous brown eyes, regular features, and tanned – not a spray-tan tan but an outdoors, glowing, healthy tan. He looked just like the French actor Olivier Martinez with his dark good looks. In fact, he was so gorgeous Carmen was prepared to overlook the complete style no-no in her book –
long
black hair, pulled back in a ponytail. Plus he was accessorised with a small child, also not so good.

‘Daniel!' Violet exclaimed, rushing over and hugging him. Pretty tightly, Carmen noted, maybe she was the girlfriend. Lucky girlfriend.

‘I'm so glad you and Millie could make it. You haven't missed anything, we've only just started, but I know you could do it with your eyes shut anyway!' She laughed, showing off a gold tongue stud – which was right up with Crocs on Carmen's list of things she didn't get.

Carmen was continuing to have a good old look at Daniel, well, borderline leer – pickings were thin on the ground in the hall, let's face it – when Daniel turned in her direction and gave a broad smile, showing off white, even teeth.
Well, hello
! Carmen thought in delight, she might be surrounded by the Amish and wearing the
hideous Crocs but she hadn't lost her touch! As Daniel walked towards her, she could almost feel herself blush, and when he stopped in front of her she gave him her most flirty smile. Unfortunately it was lost on him as he bent down and said, ‘Hiya, Harry, how's it going?'

Harry! He was smiling at Harry! Buggeration!

‘Give me five!' Harry shot back. Daniel obliged and Carmen watched as the pair enacted a high-five routine that seemed to go on for ages.

Finally Daniel stood up and looked directly at Carmen. ‘Hi, I'm Daniel, and this is Millie, she's in the same class as Harry.' He pointed to a little girl with long blonde hair and a sweet face. ‘Jess said you'd be coming, nice to meet you.'

Ah, so this was why Jess wanted her to come to the workshop? There was a small pause when Carmen wondered if she should kiss him, as she was used to doing in old London town, but Daniel stuck out his hand, so she shook it, thinking,
My, my, what a firm grip you have
.

Carmen was about to ask him if he'd lived in Brighton long – unoriginal, but a start of a conversation – when Violet clapped her hands and shouted, ‘Okay, people, get lashing!' and Daniel strode over to grab some pieces of willow and began expertly lashing them together. Carmen followed his lead with considerably less success. The willow seemed to have a will of its own and slid and slithered out of her hands; even Harry was better at lashing than she was. ‘So have you lived in Brighton long?' she managed to ask.

‘Practically all my life. I wouldn't want to live anywhere else.' Daniel spoke quietly and seriously. ‘How are you settling in?'

‘I like it here. Of course it's much smaller than London and I do miss the city.'

Daniel frowned. ‘Yeah, but London's so busy, so full-on, no space, no room to breathe.'

Carmen was a Londoner by birth and loved the capital, thought it the best city in the world, second only to New York, but she detected that this might not win her brownie points with Daniel. ‘And it doesn't have the
sea
. I love the sea.' She said it with enthusiasm, hoping the comment would make Daniel realise that she was not a shallow urbanite, that she could appreciate nature.

‘I love it too.' He rewarded Carmen with a smile.

She smiled back, and at that moment one of the pieces of willow she was trying to wrestle into place sprang back and nearly took her eye out. She was about to come out with an entirely justified
Fuck
! but Daniel put down his own pyramid-shaped construction and took the willow from her.

‘Tell you what, I'll do yours and Harry's, so long as you put the paper and the designs on it; it will still count.'

It took Daniel some five minutes to polish off the two shapes. Carmen supposed she should have been planning the design, but she was riveted by the sight of his strong, manly fingers working so quickly and expertly lashing – lashings and lashings of lovely lashing.
Oh dear, she really had been spending too much time on her own.

‘All done,' Daniel said, and Carmen looked at the two pyramid shapes in front of him.

‘Um, great, but they look absolutely nothing like a cock, do they?' It was unfortunate that at that moment a random hush fell across the hall, so Carmen's clearly enunciated ‘cock' rang out clear as a bell.

Daniel looked at her in bemusement. ‘Why would they? That's the structure for the lantern. The candle goes in the base and the whole thing will be covered in white paper decorated with designs relating to time.'

Harry and Millie were in fits of giggles, though Harry had first managed to splutter, ‘Carmen said the C word.'

Carmen wanted to retort that it wasn't
that
C word, in case any of the Amish got the wrong idea and lashed
her
to the willow structures and burned her.

Carmen looked at Daniel. He must think she was such an idiot. ‘But I thought it was the burning of the cocks? Isn't that why we're here? It's some kind of pagan, I don't know, end-of-the-year ritual. I've only just moved down here, remember.'

‘It's
clocks
,' Daniel said quietly, his mouth twitching. ‘Burning of the clocks. It's to celebrate the winter solstice.'

‘Well, that's a relief,' Carmen quipped back, though she was mortified by her mistake. ‘I was a bit worried that there might be some mass removal of children in Brighton by social services, because their parents forced them to make phallic symbols.'

‘So you're all sorted now?' Violet asked, advancing on Carmen. ‘It was good of Daniel to help you. Usually we expect people to make their own lanterns, it's part of the ritual. And then when you come to burn it at the end of the procession, you can invest it with your hopes for the future and the things you want to let go of.' She was smiling, but her eyes were not.

‘Put it this way, if Daniel hadn't helped me, there would be no lantern to invest with anything. The last thing I made was a papier mâché lighthouse, painted red and white, with a washing-up liquid bottle for a base, when I was at primary school. My parents have still got it, not because it has any artistic merit whatsoever but because it's practically the only thing I ever made that you could see what it was. It would be fair to say, Violet, that I am challenged in the artistic area.' Yes, make her feel guilty for criticising her; she was bound to be so right-on she would hate upsetting anyone, even a lipstick-wearing Londoner.

Violet did not look guilty. ‘Why don't you make a start on covering the willow structure with paper?' She held up a lantern which was already covered in white paper and had a hook at the top for ease of carrying. ‘Here's one I made earlier. Surely you can do
that
without enlisting Daniel?' She seemed very possessive around the delicious Daniel; perhaps she really was his girlfriend.

Carmen looked over at the trestle table covered in sheets of black-and-white paper. That looked like a no-brainer. It was just a matter of slapping a bit of glue
on the paper and then sticking it on the structure. Or not, as she found out a few minutes later when she managed to stick the paper everywhere but the lantern, including on the arm of her Alexander McQueen biker jacket. And she couldn't take the jacket off as both her hands were covered in glue.

‘Harry!' she hissed, flapping her arm around like a deranged bird. ‘Can you pull that paper off ?'

Harry did his best but only succeeded in getting it to stick more firmly to the delicate leather.

‘Here, shall I have a go?' Daniel came to the rescue. Carmen held out her arm, hardly daring to look as Daniel deftly removed the paper with those very lovely, strong fingers. ‘It's alright. It should come off, shouldn't it?' he said as they both looked at the sticky residue of glue which had left a snail-trail on the leather.

Carmen wanted to stamp her foot and shriek, ‘It's Alexander McQueen, goddamit! Of course it's not alright! I haven't even finished paying for it yet!' But she instinctively felt that Daniel might not approve of such an obsessive love of clothes. And she had to admit that, though Daniel was emphatically not her type – the long hair told her that – she
did
want him to approve of her. There was something incredibly sexy about him. Or maybe it was just those stunning good looks in the sea of Amish and that delicious hit of some woody aftershave that she kept getting whenever he was near.