A Summer Fling (23 page)

‘He sounds very . . . stable,’ said Christie, nodding kindly. Dawn knew what was going through all their minds though. Try as she might, she couldn’t sex him up in her description. Nor did she want to at that moment. She thought of how young Raychel spoke about Ben and his gentlemanly ways, and how Christie’s brother came across as being lovely when she spoke about him, and then how long Grace had been married, so she
must
be really happy. Even Anna’s estranged bloke sounded sexy and interesting, but there was no getting away from it – Calum was pure shades of grey. It was his family who were colourful and lively. Calum had no
passion,
that was the problem. He drank beer, he ate food, he watched TV and he slept and that was enough for him. But it wasn’t enough for her. She was quite aware she was killing the fizzy Friday feeling but she couldn’t stop herself.

‘What made you fall in love with him?’ asked Raychel.

‘I used to do his mum’s hair when I was a hairdresser. She’s lovely, really,’ Dawn recalled. ‘She asked me along to a night out with a busload of women. Her daughters went along as well and we all had such a laugh. Then she asked me to tea at theirs and there was Calum, all killer smile, floppy hair and work overalls. He’d just broken up from his girlfriend and his mum suggested we went out. So we did and suddenly I was part of their family.’ They were all listening intently, Grace especially.

‘How did he propose then? Was it the down-on-one-knee job?’ asked Anna.

‘Nope. We were all out one night and he . . .’
got absolutely hammered,
‘got a bit tipsy and just came out with it and suddenly we were all celebrating.’ Dawn smiled. ‘It was fantastic. I was so happy. Me and his sisters were dancing on tables and Cal’s mates were all there being loud and funny and Denise – that’s my future sister-in-law – rang her parents and they came down and joined in . . .’ It was just a shame that her new fiancé was catatonic under a table five minutes after asking her to marry him. She thought it best to leave that bit out as she painted a romantic and merry scene for her work-mates. But all of them, without exception, picked up on the fact that the ‘other half ’ in this relationship seemed to be the family, not the man himself.

‘The big question is – do you love him?’ asked Anna.

‘ ’Course I do,’ replied Dawn quickly.

‘Then that’s all that matters,’ said Christie. ‘You’d be surprised how many people marry someone they don’t love because they have other reasons for doing so. And I’m afraid they’ll almost always be disappointed if that’s the case.’

Grace felt her lip tremble. She volunteered to go and fetch the second round from the bar before those tears pricking at the back of her eyes made a show.

Dawn stayed behind when the others had gone, watching Al on his guitar. He had the same rapturous look on his face that her dad had whenever he got lost in his music. As the song ended, a soft rock ballad with a Western twist, he came back to the present world and smiled at her and held up a finger.
One more song, then we break
. She knew that’s what he meant. She could have listened to their music all night, even though to most people in the bar they were just a pleasant background hum. The lead singer was obviously a relative of the bass guitarist, both sharing lean, blond and blue-eyed looks. Then there was the good-looking older guy with the beard who was playing another guitar. Then there was Al with his black hair and lips so full and red they should have been illegal on a man. She made up her mind to ask him that evening to play at her wedding. That would put an end to any flirtation.

‘Hello again, Miss Dawny Sole,’ came that smooth caramel voice over her shoulder as she ordered two Diet Cokes at the bar.

‘Oh hello, Mr Holly. And how are you today?’

‘I’m just fine, ma’am, just fine. You bought that for me? Thank you, that’s very kind.’

‘I didn’t want you thinking I don’t stand my round,’ said Dawn. ‘I might find myself bad-mouthed all over America.’

‘Shame on you!’ said Al. ‘I’m a Canadian. British Columbia born and raised.’

‘You all sound the same to me,’ Dawn smiled playfully, quite aware that whatever her gracious intentions had been, she had opened international flirting barriers, no passports required.

Al laughed and took a long drink of Coke. Dawn watched his Adam’s apple rise and fall in his throat. There was dark chest hair poking out of the top of his shirt and she had the impulse to reach out and touch it.

‘So what brings you here again? You got a recording contract you want me to sign?’

‘I only wish I had,’ said Dawn. ‘We come here every Friday after work, just for an hour or so, to end the week on a jolly note.’

‘What do you do?’

‘I work in an office,’ said Dawn, keeping it short. ‘Are you a full-time musician?’

‘I am now. I was a carpenter but my parents died and so I decided to live out my dream for a few years. I’ll retire at thirty-five and buy a small farm and strum my guitar in the evenings on the porch and frighten all the animals.’

Dawn laughed. He had wit like Anna, all the funnier for the dry delivery.

‘You’re like me then, an orphan,’ she said. Something else they had in common.

‘I guess so.’ He leaned down and whispered conspiratorially in her ear, ‘But I’m living my dream and I suspect you’re not.’

‘Oh, and what do you think my dream would be then?’ Dawn asked. He’d hit a nerve and it showed in the shake in her voice.

‘I think you’d like to be strumming alongside me on that stage.’

‘Yeah, right,’ said Dawn. ‘I’m not good enough by half.’

‘I’ll be the judge of that. Bring your guitar and come along on Sunday morning to our practice session.’

And that’s how, despite all her best intentions, Dawn found herself agreeing to meet Al Holly on Sunday at the Rising Sun with her guitar in tow.

Anna had no time to feel lonely that Friday night. She had a house to scrub. OK, it wasn’t that bad, it just needed a bit of TLC, especially from a caressing duster.

The crew had arrived by seven thirty, although there was no Maria because apparently she was with Vladimir in Milan. It looked like Jane didn’t do mornings because she was puffy-eyed and not in a very smiley mood at all. It took the make-up lady, Chas, quite a while, and a lot of
Touche Éclat
, to sort her out.

Anna’s wardrobe was totally garbaged, as she expected. Jane had brought some clothes with her that she thought would suit Anna, including V-necks which Anna never wore.

‘Why not? They accentuate your bust perfectly and lengthen your neck!’ enthused Jane. ‘There are women out there who would kill for the breasts you were given!’

She dressed Anna in red and dark blue and purple outfits and matching killer heels. But Anna wouldn’t admit that the reflection in her wardrobe mirror was pleasing to the eye. Her confidence levels were too damaged to accept any praise.

Mark was setting up a laptop in the corner when they had a break for coffee.

‘Do you mind me asking, are you OK?’ Anna said to a very glum Jane, mentally away on another planet while she sipped at a coffee.

Jane turned to Anna, said that yes, she was absolutely fine and promptly burst into tears. Anna was straight over with a comforting hug and a tissue. She had lots of tissues in the house. She’d bought them in bulk on the first supermarket shopping expedition after Tony left.

‘Sorry,’ said Jane, blowing her nose. ‘It’s nothing. Oh God, I’m messing up my make-up!’

‘Sod the make-up, what’s the matter?’ Anna drew a few more tissues out of the box; it looked as if Jane was going to need them.

‘This is my last series. They’re thinking about replacing me with Elaine Massey.’

Anna’s brow furrowed. ‘What, Elaine Massey, the bird from the ex-girl band that were so crap I can’t even remember their name? That can’t be right; she’s only twelve.’

Jane let loose a very teary snort of laughter at that. ‘No, she’s twenty-two, I’m twenty-eight. Six is a big number in television years,’ she sniffed sadly. ‘She’s so gorgeous and young . . .’

Anna couldn’t believe her ears. ‘Whoa there,’ she cut in. ‘You’re twenty-eight? What’s that if it’s not young? And you’re far more gorgeous than she is!’

Jane smiled. ‘You’re very kind, but “fresh” is the order of the day and I’m nearly thirty. There’s a meeting on Tuesday to decide who’s going to be fronting the next series.’ More tears rolled down her cheeks.

Anna leaned in close.

‘Then you’re going to have to convince them not to fix something that isn’t broken, aren’t you?’

‘I only wish I could,’ Jane croaked. There was no point in damage limitation to her make-up now; it would have to be totally redone.

Anna took a big breath. ‘Do you know, one of the reasons that I never blossomed was that I didn’t appreciate my youth. I took all that freshness and energy for granted. When I was twenty, I looked back at my teens and wished I was still at school. When I was thirty, I wished I had my totally fresh twenty-year-old skin and the stomach that snapped back to flat when I’d lost some weight. And now I’m forty, I’m looking back at my thirties and wishing I’d just
appreciated
what I had then. I was always looking back and regretting things. I was quite pretty when I was a teenager, but I didn’t realize it at the time and I only wish I had.’ She put her hands on Jane’s arms and pulled her squarely in front of her.

‘You are in your twenties and I am telling you now you need to appreciate how gorgeous and clever and fabulous and popular with the public you are. And you need to do it whilst you’re living it, not ten years later. Go fight!’

Anna saw her words sink into Jane’s brain. She saw fluttery activity behind her lovely blue eyes. Jane nodded slowly.

‘My God, you’re right,’ she said with a pleasing bit of strength in her voice. ‘I should, shouldn’t I? I’ve never thought that I’m
only
twenty-eight.’

‘Precisely – you are
only
twenty-eight.’

Jane’s face broke into a huge smile. ‘Anna, I’m going to fight my corner like you said.’

‘Good for you,’ said Anna with a wink.

‘Girls, we’re ready for part two,’ Mark interrupted. ‘Anna, park yourself in front of this laptop. We’ve got something fab to show you.’

It wasn’t fab at all. In fact, it was hideous and Bruce captured every horrified arrangement that Anna’s features made as she watched the huge image of her in crap underwear being projected onto the side of a big building in Leeds. Jane then proceeded to stop passers-by and ask them what they thought of Anna’s semi-naked figure.

Anna watched through gaps in her fingers and waited for Joe Public to pass comment.

What a wobbly-arsed woman!

Glad I don’t look like that ugly cow!

Chuffing hell – who is it? Has Hattie Jacques come back to life?

Imagination was a powerful suicidal weapon. In fact, the people of Leeds said nothing of the sort.

Nice full bust, I’d kill for that.

The underwear doesn’t do her justice.

Good womanly figure, the way a bird should look.

A good-looking woman. I’d say about forty-five years old.

‘OK,’ started Anna. ‘Tell me all the nasty comments about my blobby stomach that you’ve cut out.’

‘No one mentioned your stomach, which isn’t surprising considering you don’t have that much of one,’ replied Jane. ‘The most negative thing anyone said was that you were older than your real age and that your underwear wasn’t good, and I didn’t think that was critical.’

‘Oh!’ Anna was shocked. Were there a lot of blind people in Leeds then?

‘Right then, let’s wrap that for today,’ said Mark. ‘Back at Vlad’s next week, Anna, for a seven o’clock in the evening start.’ He shook his head at the thought of filming at night. ‘Bloody vampires!’

‘Thanks for the pep talk,’ smiled Jane. ‘I feel so much better and I am going to give it my all in that Tuesday meeting.’ She gave Anna a big hug as she climbed into the crew van.

Anna waved them off and wished someone had let her into the big secret about valuing her youth years ago. She wondered what track her life would have taken if she had.

Anna caved in to temptation and drove past the barber’s on Saturday afternoon en route to the chemist to buy a hair dye. Tony and Lynette were both cutting hair and looking very jolly. Why was it that he was the bastard and everything was all right in his world? Even the cat, when she saw him in the communal garden shared by the small courtyard of eight houses, was looking at her like she was something that he had just imparted to his litter tray. Damn seductive women – bobbly-bosomed ones like Lynette and salmon-buying ones like Edna the widow. Women should be looking out for each other, not coveting males that belonged to someone else.

Hurt and angry as she was, when she stormed back into the house, she realized that for the first time she had survived seeing her estranged other half without crying. It was a tiny step forward, but at least she was going in the right direction. She rallied herself and mixed up the hair dye. She had knocked five years off her appearance by the time she had rinsed it off.

Grace was babysitting Sable while Sarah went to Meadowhall to buy things for the new baby. Once Sable had landed, Gordon disappeared to his allotment, of course, and Grace got on with her washing while Sable was playing with an old Fuzzy Felt of Paul’s.

When Grace emptied the laundry basket, she saw at once that her new dress was ripped at the front. That upset her because she had really liked it. She couldn’t remember tearing it on anything and how was it that she hadn’t noticed it when she took it off last night and put it in the wash basket? She shook her head, realizing that the way it was ripped meant that it couldn’t possibly be mended. She would have to throw it away. What a shame, she thought. She really couldn’t work out how it could have happened.

Dawn had driven Calum over to Muriel’s house because ‘some more DVDs had arrived that he needed to sort out.’

‘More? Are you opening up a shop?’ Dawn had asked.

‘Keep that out, Missy,’ had been his reply, gently flicking the end of her nose.