Lizzie's List (4 page)
I hug Dad fiercely. He doesn’t often say much or make speeches, but the one he has just made will be in my memory forever. That one small speech gives me more insight into my mother than I have ever had and I suddenly feel a little closer to her. Nevertheless, I am still choosing Jayne Eyre over Tess.
“Do you think Mum is disappointed in me Dad?”
“No, she is proud of you Lizzie and she wants you to be happy, which, of course, you are already. I think your mum just forgets that the things which make her happy are not the same things that make you happy. I don’t believe Mark’s life would make me happy, but I see how ambitious he is and that it is what he wants right now. You are ambitious Lizzie and have turned The Tea Cosy into a very fine business, but you are also content with it.”
“Is Mum contented?” I ask, not having ever thought about this before.
“We’re both happy Lizzie and as a mature woman your mum is now content, however it wasn’t always that way. You know we both went to school together, but only got together romantically during the summer break before our final year at university. Your mum always wanted to get a job in London – she was drawn to glamour and had an idea that London was the place to go, but I was the one who landed a job here first so that’s why we ended up here. We were in love and she stayed with me – we married soon after. Once you and your brother arrived, your mum stayed at home as most women in the village did. She always loved being with you both, but I think for a long time she felt that she hadn’t fulfilled her potential in some way. Your mum has always been switched on, trying the latest thing, be it a new face cream or fashions, whereas I like a more simple life. Anyway, once she started writing for the magazine when you were both a little older, she felt successful and that fulfilled her ambitions in many ways, but she’ll always be attracted to life in the fast lane – so Mark being in London is fabulous to her.” He gives me another dad-like squeeze.
“So have you done everything Dad–as in are you content?” I ask, suddenly wondering if he has done everything he wants to, again this is not something I have previously considered.
“I am Lizzie. I have everything I want and do everything I want ... although, thinking about it there’s one place I’ve never been and would love to visit. Every year I think I must go, because it’s supposed to be so beautiful, but we always end up going south, rather than north. For some reason or other, I’ve never got there.”
“Where is it Dad?”
“Oh just the Lake District – certainly not glamorous and not top of your mum’s list of places to go, which is probably why I’ve never made it up there. Perhaps I’ll go next time your mum is away on one of her ‘Golden Girls’ trips”. At this, I smile. My mum has a group of friends her age and they call themselves the Golden Girls. With their trips out, lunches and spa days – mum has a wonderful time. It would be nice for dad to go away too. I stand up, collecting our empty mugs and can’t help but be full of love for this incredibly stable, strong man who has the ability to fully understand people. I also make a mental note about the Lake District dream of his. It’s his 60th birthday next summer, so if he hasn’t got himself to the Lakes by then, that’s going to be my gift to him.
The next morning, I decide to go into town to buy my book, so I can get on with my next task, especially since I opted for an easier one to do this time – maybe I like a simple life just like dad. I can’t put off some of the harder ones forever, though – maybe I am becoming more adventurous like my mum. Despite my love of the countryside, I do enjoy visiting Avington and participating in a little shopping. Avington is not a huge town, but has most things you need. It has a centre with some chain stores, but manages to keep a unique charm due to its many independent shops. Many towns have lost this effect, being swallowed up by commercialism, so I feel lucky to have Avington.
Mum and Tabitha decide to travel in with me, which results in us going in Mark’s car, since mine is not acceptable. Thankfully we split up whilst in town and agree to meet back later at The Cake House. This is my second favourite cafe, after The Tea Cosy of course.
I visit the book shop just off the high street, which smells exactly as it always has. I love the smell of new books, associating this smell with the anticipation of starting a new book and the many pleasurable evenings of reading, where each new chapter will take me on a journey. Mark has a kindle and laughs at me because I don’t have one yet, but I prefer reading from a book. I love front covers and am often guilty of choosing a book purely from its appearance, rather than content – pastel colours always win me over. I also adore the way the authors have their name printed in the same font on the cover of all of their books, so you can easily recognise your favourite author. I quickly purchase Jayne Eyre, which Mark has already told me is free if I had a kindle.
Having half an hour until I meet mum and Tabitha, I decide to browse and with no other shopping requirement, I continue out of the side street towards St Anne’s Square. A certain shop catches my attention on the far side of the cobbled square. Oh my goodness, my heart starts to pound as I realise that this particular shop, is the shop that Ruth told me about. I now think it’s time for me to come clean about another item on my list.
Again I find myself in a position, where I feel the need to explain myself to you. I think I previously mentioned that I can be shy about such things. I won’t pretend I am completely innocent, but I have never ever had a boyfriend who I have felt completely natural or confident enough with to want to visit a sex shop, therefore I have never been in one. I’ve never actually been in love. Don’t get me wrong I am not intending to buy some sort of whip or can I actually say this to you–nipple clamp–(I am blushing now). However, I would like to have been inside a sex shop, just because it is something else I have never done, and I’m a little bit curious. You may be thinking that everybody has been in one at some point, even if just buying silly presents for hen parties–or you may be shocked if they are places you usually avoid.
Casually standing on the opposite side of the square, I subtly observe the shop. I think it looks quite classy and displays lovely underwear in the window; in fact it doesn’t really look like a sex shop. As I stand watching, I am startled to see my own mother and Tabitha walk out of the door laughing as though they have just been in the local bakery. Quickly, I dart into a doorway so that they don’t see me watching. I can’t decide whether to laugh or throw up at the thought of my mum buying something kinky in there. Think nice thoughts – rainbows – flowers – fluffy clouds (this is not working) – cupcakes with sweet, pink icing and decorated in tiny butterflies – arrrrgh that’s better!
Five minutes later, Mum and Tabitha having left, I am still hovering. Sod it, if they can do it, so can I! Boldly walking towards the shop, I purposely enter with my head held high. Inside it is predominantly women’s underwear. Actually, there’s nothing too disturbing; I think this is a place for women to get lovely underwear, but it has the option of allowing visitors to select something more risqué, should they wish to. I casually browse at the underwear, which is very pricey. Being single, it seems such a waste of money buying lacy knickers–just for me. The lady in the shop catches my eye and smiles warmly, so I feel a little more at ease. Since most of my underwear consists of greying and fraying knickers and bras that don’t match, I decide to treat myself to a new set. So what if nobody else gets the benefit of it–it will make me feel good. A sexy, but practical pink set catches my eye, so I grab it from the hook, and feeling slightly reckless, grab a black set as well. I am about to go to the counter and my wild feeling, how I felt in Bluebell Woods, has come over me. “Is buying underwear really fulfilling my task?” I ask myself. Not quite–I stroll over to the mysterious, intriguing corner of the room!
After a few minutes of trying to work out what some of the things are, I realise this is a low key sex shop, because there is nothing really horrendous here apart from a few vibrators. I opt for some pleasure gel (only because Kate mentioned it once) and a pot of body chocolate as everybody knows you can even buy that from supermarkets. Due to my single status, I have no intention of using this, but at least I will have bought it, and I could always give it to Kate. Confidently walking over to the counter, I smile and pay for my purchases, trying not to let the smile slip, when the lady announces the total cost–£127. Desperately trying to act sophisticated, rather than shout, “How much?” I wait whilst the lady pain-staking wraps my delicate underwear into gold tissue paper parcels tided with luxury ribbon. Luckily the parcel fits inside my bookshop bag as I am not brave enough to display my ‘Naughty But Nice’ bag to the whole town – the shopping bag stays hidden.
Stepping out of the shop, I feel good about my unexpected achievement; I hadn’t intended to complete number 4 today, but am proud of myself. Compared to number 1 on my list that was easy – not having an audience and all that. I pop next door to the delicatessen for a few jars of stuff I need for The Tea Cosy and head off to meet Mum and Tabitha.
They are waiting at a table in the window as I enter. “Darling we’ve ordered a pot of tea and some scones – I hope that’s okay. You’ll never guess where Tabitha dragged me?” gushed Mum. I am now dreading the answer and also the level of burn that may appear in my cheeks, since I have just left the same shop.
“Yes, tea and scones are great,” I reply hoping Mum will be distracted if I ignore her question.
“Well Tabitha spotted a great little underwear shop and simply had to go in. Tabitha bought a simply gorgeous royal-blue set with delicate golden trim and look what I have,” Mum says as she pulls out a black thong, with matching bra – oh no – please help me! I cannot believe I am looking at my mother’s sexy underwear in public. This is just too much – put it away!
“That’s lovely Mum,” is all I can think of to say.
“I thought it would suit you and also noticed you badly need some new underwear, so I got it for you,” Mum said smiling. Guilt washes over me like a tidal wave as I realise mum’s intentions, followed by embarrassment, which also washes over me like a tidal wave as I realise mum is holding my underwear up in public and that she has announced far too loudly that my current stuff is in such bad condition.
“Thanks mum. That’s really kind,” I reply hastily shoving them into my bulging bag.
“It is a lovely set–shame only you’ll see it – maybe I could set you up with one of Mark’s single friends. This is my set,” says Tabitha as she shows me a glimpse of her new underwear in her bag.
What I find much more interesting in her bag rather than her underwear, is the latest copy of Heat magazine. As much as I did not want to see the underwear she will wear for my brother, I am ecstatic about seeing this. So you don’t like anything lowbrow Tabitha? Well I will keep this little gem of information stored in my memory for another time. “Bitch!” I say in my head, but NOT out loud and just smile thinking; Heat magazine, and also that there is no way I would ever go out with one of Mark’s friends.
A few hours later, as I’m driving home in my mud splattered car, I feel pleased with completing an item from the list unexpectedly and also happy that my visit generally went well, with only a few annoying moments. Driving down the tree-lined lane to the village, I am greeted by my usual rush of contentment that fills me whenever I am home. I pull up near to The Tea Cosy and collect my bag which is now straining slightly from the weight of the jars. As I cross over the road towards The Tea Cosy, the handle on my bag snaps spilling various contents, mainly the large jars from the delicatessens. Ensuring my new underwear is quickly pushed back into the bag, I glance around to retrieve the jars from the road and pop them on the doorstep of The Tea Cosy ready to take inside. Fiddling with my unnecessarily, huge, bunch of keys, I search for the correct one to open the front door.
“Hi, I think these are yours. They rolled off to the other side of the road.”
Oh no, oh no! Why him again? My mystery man is standing in front of me holding up two jars–my pleasure gel in one hand and body chocolate in the other. Yet again he is wearing his familiar smirk. Feeling my face start to flame hot, I force myself to remember my rules on composure, therefore act as if I regularly drop body chocolate and pleasure gel over the road and couldn’t care less. It doesn’t help that I notice his muscles straining through his shirt as he holds up my jars.
“Hi, oh thanks, I’m glad I’ve not lost those – couldn’t be without them for one minute” I reply confidently.
“Well, I’m glad I could be of assistance.” Glancing at the label he reads, “Body Chocolate – best for sharing and erm ...” he glances at the other jar whilst I try not to flinch, “Pleasure gel – for that intense pleasurable feeling – well enjoy them both!” he says as he hands them to me. “I’m sure you’ll make your boyfriend’s day with those.”
“Thank you,” I reply, face reddening, as I turn to enter The Tea Cosy. I am too flustered to explain that I haven’t got a boyfriend and wouldn’t he then think me rather odd buying them if I haven’t?
“No problem at all. What’s a jar of body chocolate when I’ve seen the body! See you around Lizzie,” winks my man and with that he saunters off down the road with a swagger.
“How do you know my name?” I shout after him. He turns and smiles, but this smile reaches his eyes and I know he is teasing me now.
“The answer to that Lizzie, is one you’ll have to work out for yourself.”
I am initially delighted with myself for my bolder behaviour until I assess the situation. This man has seen me ballet dancing wildly, whilst naked, and also being unashamedly open about how I am unable to be without my body chocolate. Why didn’t I think of some excuse, like it is a gift for a hen party? And how does he know my name?
Note to self
- Don’t put too many heavy things in one bag.
- Find out who he is and stop referring to him as my man, because he isn’t – yet!
- Bodily hair – trim, if only for the sake of my gorgeous new underwear.
