Divas Don't Knit (25 page)

‘I’ll be at the Portland, so they’ll probably charge me £50 for it.’

‘They’re not that exciting, actually. I’d pass, if I were you.’

She smiles. ‘What are the other perks, then?’

‘Things like being able to stick to a proper bedtime routine and rules about sweets without him making you look like the wicked witch, overruling you whenever he feels like it. Not having to maintain the myth of how marvellous Daddy is, even when he’s late home again and you’re completely knackered, that kind of thing.’

‘So basically it’s crap?’

‘Yes.’

‘But having a dad around doesn’t help that much either?’

‘No, not really. It’s still mainly the mums who do all the boring stuff: you just go to any dentist during half-term and you’ll see. It’s pretty much a one-woman mission for most people, I think.’

‘And no free gifts.’

‘Not really, no.’

She laughs. ‘I think she got it wrong, you know, that Simone de Beauvoir. We’re not the Second Sex at all, we’re the bloody First. Everything would grind to a halt without women. I’ve been reading the research notes Max did for me, and that Jean-Paul Sartre sounds like a right wanker. She should have been much tougher with him, like that one who sat knitting by the guillotine. Madame de something.’

‘Madame Defarges?’

‘Yes – get your knitting out and don’t let the bastards grind you down. And she wore Chanel, you know.’

‘Who, Madame Defarges?’

‘No, Simone de Beauvoir. So the clothes will be great, if I do it. If I ever get back to a normal size again. Have you read any of her books?’

‘Maybe, at university. I can’t really remember. I’ve got quite a few blanks about what I read years ago. I think it’s a leftover from being pregnant. Sorry, I used to hate that, how people always tell you things like that when you’re pregnant. It’s like you become public property.’

‘I’ve been public property for quite a while, if you believe the papers.’

‘Yes, but people don’t come up to you and touch your tummy, do they? They were always doing that to me, on the Tube, and I hated it.’

She laughs.

‘Not unless they want to get up close and personal with Bruno they don’t.’

‘Anyway, there’s some new research on how pregnancy actually improves your memory. I was reading about it at the weekend, I meant to bring it to show you. It increases something. They’ve done scans on how women’s brains are different to men’s, and it gets more pronounced after pregnancy. So we’re not supposed to blame men if they can’t multitask. Although they’re very good at map reading, apparently.’

‘And quite good at multi-tasking when it’s things they want to do, like shagging people behind your back.’

‘True.’

‘Did you ever meet her?’

‘Who?’

‘The woman your husband … Look, say if you don’t want to talk about this, won’t you?’

‘It’s fine. No, I never met her.’

‘Jimmy was always surrounded by women. They used to line up along the corridor in hotels, like a sort of buffet. Pick and mix, they used to call it.’

‘How horrible.’

‘I quite liked it at first. I could walk in and nobody would take any notice, because they were all completely focused on the Band. It was relaxing in a way, although it used to drive Max crazy.’

‘Yes, I can imagine that.’

‘But I knew he’d fuck it up, sooner or later. I was getting bored with him or I’d have sorted it out. You can always sort them out, if you really want to.’

‘It probably helps if you look like you do.’

She laughs. ‘Maybe, but you know what I mean: you’re only a victim if you want to be – my mum taught me that. It’s hard sometimes, but that’s the way it is; you just have to refuse to let it get to you. It’s really bad karma if you let things diminish you.’

Oh, God, I hope she’s not going to start on about crystals or energy fields.

She smiles. ‘Nothing anyone does can really hurt you, unless you let it.’

‘Right. Nothing at all?’

‘No.’

I wonder if she’ll still feel that way after she’s had the baby. I’m guessing she might find a whole new chasm of vulnerability has opened up over night, and there’s no way she’ll be able to karma her way out of it, however hard she tries. But I don’t think I’ll mention it, because apart from anything else I don’t like annoying people, whatever Archie might think.

‘I still think it probably helps if you look as good as you do.’

She smiles again. ‘Do you think you’d be divorced now, if, you know, if he’d still been around?’

‘Yes, I think so.’

‘And he’d have wanted access?’

‘I suppose so. God, I’d have hated that.’

‘Thank God Jimmy’s not playing that game.’

‘Won’t he be involved at all, then?’

As soon as I’ve said this, I realise I’ve crossed the invisible line.

‘We’ll see.’

We watch the boys, who are still playing with the hoops, although they’re slowing down now, and one of Archie’s armbands is deflating, so he’s gone rather lopsided.

‘Are you hungry?’

‘No, we ate before we came.’

‘Well, I’m starving.’ She picks up the phone and tells Sam she’s hungry.

‘Are you sure you don’t want anything?’

I think this might be our cue to leave.

‘No, really, I should be getting them home. But thank you, Grace, they’ve had a lovely time.’

Archie’s very tired and grumpy, like he always is after swimming, but at least this time we’re not shivering in a chilly Formica cubicle while we get dressed, and he falls asleep in the car, much to Jack’s amusement.

‘I like it when he’s asleep.’

‘Do you, love?’

‘Yes. It’s nice and quiet. Can we have stories when we get home?’

‘Yes, if you get into bed quickly.’

I manage to get Archie upstairs and into bed without any major dramas, and Jack’s half asleep by the time I finish the first story. I’m back downstairs, sitting in front of the fire and trying not to fall asleep until I’ve finished writing my shopping list for the party, when Ellen rings.

‘So has this Reg person got any young friends, then?’

‘What, a former captain of the bowls club?’

‘No, a nice handsome stranger who doesn’t want to take you home to meet his mother.’

‘There’s not much chance of that around here: I’d probably already know his mother, if he was a local, and they don’t stay strangers for long. Before you know it, they’re moaning about the way you cook bacon.’

‘You’ll miss out on an awful lot of fun if you go on thinking like that.’

‘Maybe. But it makes my mornings much more relaxing.’

She laughs.

‘You must miss the sex, though.’

‘Ellen!’

‘Oh, please. You must.’

‘Well, I don’t, not really. It just became part of the routine after a while; nice but nothing earth-shattering. There was one time, ages ago, when he came home in the middle of the night, and I was half asleep and I thought he was a burglar. But apart from that, no, not really.’

‘You thought you were shagging a burglar and you didn’t wake up?’

‘You know what I mean. It was unexpected, like when we first starting seeing each other. But most of the time it was just sort of ordinary; comforting but ordinary, like the decaff version of the real thing.’

‘With blinding headaches if you have the real thing by mistake. Bloody hell, so I’ve got years of crap sex to look forward to.’

‘Not crap, just not amazing. You get used to someone, you’re bound to. And anyway, I don’t think I’m a terribly good example. I mean, he was sleeping with someone else, which can’t be a very good sign. So maybe it was just me. I think he must have been quite lonely you know. I know I was.’

‘What’s brought all this on?’

‘Something Grace was saying, about how you’re only a victim if you want to be.’

‘Right. And she’d know, I suppose, looking like she does. It’s easy not being a victim if you’ve got all the power and all the money.’

‘I suppose so.’

‘I bloody know so, so you might as well just get out there and have some fun. Let’s go shopping when you’re up with your gran. That always works for me.’

‘Maybe.’

‘So that’s a no, then?’

‘I could do with some new boots.’

‘Hallelujah! Right, I’ll be your stylist for the day. This is going to be so great.’

By the time she’s finished listing all the things I should be buying, I’m having a mini panic attack.

‘Don’t forget we’re meant to be shopping for Gran. And I want to get a present for Connie and Mark, for making Jack’s cake.’

‘We can go to Liberty’s – you’re bound to find something there.’

‘I was thinking more M&S.’

‘Well bloody stop it.’

It’s Saturday afternoon and it’s Party Day, much to everyone’s relief, because I don’t think Jack could take much more party anticipation. He’s already been in tears twice this morning, and Archie’s not really helping since he’s insisting on wearing his Spiderman outfit.

‘Yes, but it’s not a dressing-up party, tell him, Mum.’

‘It doesn’t matter, Jack.’

‘Well I don’t want him to come, then.’

‘Jack. Calm down.’

He gives me a furious look and bounces off upstairs, while I carry on putting out Halloween paper plates; I’ve already hung up streamers and balloons, and solved my incendiary issues with the pumpkins by getting some small battery-operated candles from one of my catalogues. I’ve used them in the pumpkins inside the shop window, too, and they look great in the afternoon when it starts to get dark. We’ve moved all the furniture in the living room so there’s more space, and anything breakable is upstairs, so I think we’re all set: at least living in such a shabby house means it doesn’t matter if anyone spills anything.

Mr Pallfrey’s outside, putting the final touches to the bonfire, with Trevor running round in circles with pieces of stick, and Gran’s in the kitchen, making sausage rolls.

‘I’ve done some cheese straws, too, they’re in the oven.’

‘Thanks, Gran.’

‘Shall I go and give the boys a quick wash and brush-up, then?’

‘Great. I’ll be up in a minute.’

I’m feeling unusually co-ordinated today: I’m wearing my new boots, with my new dark-green corduroy skirt and a green tweedy cardigan that I knitted last year. The shopping trip with Gran and Ellen was just as traumatic as I knew it was going to be, with Ellen doing her homage to Trinny & Susannah, although thankfully without insisting on seeing anyone in their pants. But I did end up with this skirt, and a brown velvet one, and two new vest tops, and Gran’s now fully equipped for Dining Aboard, although she still wants to get a new suitcase, so it was definitely worth it. Betty got herself a new coat, and Ellen found a pair of beautiful suede platform shoes that she completely fell in love with, so she got them in three different colours, which gave us all a vicarious thrill. The highlight was definitely tea at the Ritz, which I’d booked as a last-minute surprise for Gran, who almost burst into tears she was so pleased; and even though it cost an
absolute fortune, it was a real treat, and not just for the moment when the cakes arrived. Betty spent so long in the ladies we thought we’d never get her out, and Ellen had to autograph two women’s menus, and then they took pictures of us with their mobile phones, which Gran loved.

She’s been busy with her comb when I go upstairs, and the boys have their hair slicked back with matching centre-partings.

‘Are you sure you want to wear your Spiderman outfit, Archie?’

‘Yes, and Gran said I could, so you can’t make me change it.’

She laughs. ‘It was either that or have him in his vest and pants.’

Jack giggles.

‘All right, if you’re really sure, but nobody else will be dressing up. You know that, don’t you?’

‘Well I can be the winner, then. And I can help bring in the cake, can’t I, Mum?’

‘Yes, if you’re sensible.’

Jack doesn’t look convinced.

‘But don’t let him hold it, Mum, or he might drop it on purpose.’

Archie looks shocked. ‘No, I wouldn’t. I’d never do that.’

Gran gives him a kiss. ‘Of course you wouldn’t, pet.’

Actually, he would, but never mind.

The doorbell rings, and Jack freezes. ‘They’re here, they’re here.’

It’s Sophie Lewis, with her mum, and she’s brought Molly Taylor with her, and they’re both wearing party frocks and clutching presents.

Sophie’s mum smiles.

‘They’ve got their coats, for the bonfire later. And I’ll pick them up at seven, is that right?’

‘Yes.’

‘Gosh, you are brave, having them all here.’

She beats a hasty retreat, as Jane Johnson arrives with a gaggle of small boys.

‘Tom’s dad will pick them up. Do you need a hand or anything?’

I’ve always thought Jane was particularly nice, and now she’s just confirmed it. Offering to help at someone else’s children’s party is definitely gold star behaviour, unless you’re on very strong medication.

‘I think it’s all under control. For now.’

She laughs.

‘Have a large gin. It’ll help no end.’

Bloody hell. The noise is incredible. We’re playing Blind Vampire’s Buff, and we’ve already done Pinning the Tail on the Monster, and Pass the Pumpkin Parcel, and two rounds of musical chairs, and Archie and Nelly are now ‘helping’ Gran in the kitchen, which is very brave of her, while Tina takes Travis upstairs because one of his front teeth has just come out, with copious amounts of blood, which he’s loving. Connie’s outside with Mr Pallfrey, hanging up outdoor fairy lights; she’s put The Cake in the kitchen and it’s totally fabulous. There are candles inside it, in a hollowed-out section at the top, and it’s got windows so we’ll be able to see them flickering before I take the lid off for the birthday boy to blow them out. It’s the cleverest thing I’ve ever seen, and Connie says the orange icing is delicious, and Nelly’s already ordered one for her birthday, only in pink, so Mark’s thinking strawberries. Or possibly a giant peach.