Queen Mum (18 page)

‘God, Juno, how will they manage without you?’

‘Very well, apparently.’ Her tone was clipped and angry.

‘What happened?’

It transpired she’d gone in as usual to find Mo and Gill smiling – smirking – over a tabloid. She’d brought the paper back for me. I’M NOT A SNOB BUT MY
NAME’S REALLY JUNE said the headline, below a TV still of Juno in mid-shout.

‘I wanted to show it to you, in case you thought I was hiding it.’

‘What does it say?’

‘Just that I grew up in a tiny house and I changed my name. Nothing criminal. Good God, you wonder what else has been going on in the world that there was room for this on page
seven.’

It was true, then.

The little red-brick two-up two-down looked uncannily like our old place in Bolton. Not a stone parsonage after all.

‘I think these terraced properties are becoming quite fashionable, aren’t they?’ I said, trying to scan the text to see what else was claimed. It mentioned the price of her
current house, and then talked about the four-and-a-half-thousand-pound bath Kim had wondered at. ‘Your bath didn’t cost that much, did it?’

‘Of course it didn’t. That’s supposition on their part. If you read carefully, it doesn’t actually say I have one.’ She sighed. ‘They did ring two days ago
but I wouldn’t talk to them.’

‘Quite right too.’ I read on, enthralled in spite of myself. Rags to riches; poor girl marries good, was the spin. ‘I never knew you were a June.’

‘Lots of people change their names,’ she said.

‘That’s right. No one’s called me Allison for years. I’m Ally to everyone now.’

‘Exactly. It’s not a major deal, is it? If they’d been into hospital and harassed my mother, I’d have reported them to the Press Complaints Commission—’

‘They didn’t, did they?’

‘No. Just asked up and down the street I used to live.’

‘Charming.’ I handed her back the paper. ‘Your best bet with this, Juno, is to line Fing’s litter tray with it. That’s all it’s fit for. What a waste of
paper.’

‘Isn’t it?’

‘Hey, do you want to burn it?’

Juno exhaled. ‘You see, Ally, this is why you’re my friend. You have the best ideas.’

I wanted her to say then, ‘Do you feel differently about me now?’ so I could go, ‘No, of course not.’ But instead she asked for some matches and I went inside to see what
I could find.

We dropped the paper in the middle of the lawn and I touched each corner with the barbecue lighter. Then we went and sat on the low wall to watch.

‘You shouldn’t stop working in the shop, though, just because of that. I mean, Mo and Gill are OK, aren’t they? I know Mo’s dippy . . . I’m sure they weren’t
sneering—’

‘Trust me, they were.’

‘They were probably smiling with embarrassment; people do that.’ As the flames took hold, I imagined the brown burn stain running across the photographs of Juno’s face, of the
house. The paper curled in agony; thin red worms of glowing red chased through the black layers. Pages swelled apart in ruffles soft as chiffon.

‘It wasn’t so much the article,’ said Juno. ‘That was the last straw. I haven’t felt right there for weeks. Perhaps you outgrow a place. Time for a change.
I’ve enough on with the PTA, although it’s probably a big joke now that I lower myself to do the second-hand uniform. I might even tell Mrs Beale to sort out another lift for herself,
too.’

‘Juno, you can’t do that.’

Crisped scraps of charred paper began to detach themselves and tumble off across the grass. The centre portion of the pages was still unmarked but a lot of white smoke was billowing upwards.

‘I feel as though I need a break, start some fresh enterprises. Then again, sometimes I feel so damn weary I think all I want to do is lie around with a good book.’

‘I can understand that.’ Both of us were mesmerized by the smouldering newspaper.

‘Have you seen how much smoke it’s making?’

‘You’d think we were burning a whole tree. Perhaps it’s something to do with tabloid ink, the chemicals.’

‘Yeah. Although the burning bit might be about to go out. Can I have the lighter again?’

‘It’s next to you.’

She got up and walked back over to the newspaper, bent to apply the barrel. Click – June! Click – Not Juno! Little orange flames began to float over the page edges once more.

‘It’s like,’ she called across, ‘when you have a rid-out of your clothes. You know, when you go through your wardrobe and think: That doesn’t suit me any more, or
that’s looking shabby.’

I nodded.

She looked down again at the tiny flames and the smoke drifted around her lovingly. ‘I feel like that about some parts of my life. The
Mail
rang last night.’

‘Wow.’

‘Wanted to do an interview giving My Side of the story, the traditional mum angle. The mum trying to uphold family values in the face of a permissive society, and receiving no thanks for
it, is what she said, more or less. My chance to redress the balance. Nicely spoken woman. She said they send round a make-up artist before they take the pictures, glam you up.’

‘That’s fantastic. When are they coming?’

‘I said no.’

‘Why?’

‘Because . . . ’ Juno slid her sole over the ash flakes that had settled around her feet, wiping them into paste. ‘I don’t trust them. To tell it right. GMTV wanted me
for a slot as well.’

‘Blimey. What did you say?’

‘I told them I had too much on, with my mum being in hospital. They didn’t argue. God, I’m tired. The phone’s never stopped ringing.’

Nobody’s contacted me, I thought. Not that I’d want them to. My kind of hell, that would be. ‘I hope the girls are helping out more.’

Juno pulled a no face and came back to sit next to me on the wall. ‘In, as Soph would say, my dreams. They don’t know it but I had a modelling agency call about them
yesterday.’

‘I’m not surprised.’

‘Not catwalk or anything, this was catalogue work, they said. They wanted to get both girls on the books.’

‘Be ever so careful, Juno. There are some dodgy characters out there.’

‘Oh, I said no. Don’t get me wrong, I think it was legit, but I don’t want them any more distracted from their schoolwork than they are. You know, I had no idea Pascale’s
results would be in the national press; thank God they turned out OK.’

‘Slightly better than OK.’

‘I meant, very good. We were thrilled, obviously. Anyway, the head’s been excellent. He let all the senior kids watch a special screening of the show with Sophie and Pascale
introducing it and answering questions afterwards. Let them have their day of fame. Then they were expected to go back to normal. But Sophie’s being a little minx at the moment. So the
modelling offer’s just between you and me.’

Faintly, from next door, we heard the phone ring.

‘That yours?’

‘It will be.’

‘Aren’t you going to get it?’

‘Can’t be bothered. It’ll be some media type.’

I laughed. ‘It’s all happening for the Kingstons, isn’t it?’

‘Not half. Oh, I tell you what we were offered on Thursday. You’ll never, ever guess.’ She leaned away slightly so she could see my reaction and there it was, her
fizziness
, back again.

‘Go on.’

‘Some woman’s mag wanted Manny to be on a calendar!’

I gaped. ‘Not a nude one?’

‘Not a nude one. Your mind, Ally! I can’t remember whether it was
Bella
or
Best
, something like that, and they’re putting together a reality TV pin-up calendar.
There’ll be that vicar who drives an HGV, and the guy with the ponytail from
Fitness Freaks
. And Manny.’

We were both giggling now. ‘Mr January.’

‘Mr June, more like.’

I thought, God, she’s amazing, you really can’t keep her down for long. ‘What would he have to be doing?’ I sniggered. ‘I mean, what sort of pose would he strike?
He’s not going to take them up on it, is he?’

Juno shook her head. ‘He is not. Although I think he was quite flattered to be asked.’

‘I’ll bet.’

I thought of Tom and how he would have reacted if anyone had propositioned him in that way. Instant divorce. Ben had made me promise, the day after
Queen Mum
had aired, that I’d
never go on television again. ‘You do understand, I’d have to leave home if you did and go on the streets,’ he’d told me.

‘Actually . . . ’ Juno’s happy expression slid away. ‘I’d better go back and listen to the answerphone. In case it’s hospital, about Mum. I’m back up
there anyway this evening, but you don’t know what might happen in a few hours—’

‘I’ll see to the girls tomorrow, then?’

‘If you would. It’s such a relief to know you’re around to help.’

‘No problem,’ I said, meaning it.

I watched her walk back across the patio, away from the black mess on the grass, her Liberty skirt rippling around her ankles. The scent of smoke was in my hair.

*

*

I’d only been in Juno’s house two minutes before the telephone rang. The girls had gone straight upstairs to change out of their uniforms and their music was on
full. I waited for a moment, not sure whether to pick up or let the answerphone kick in, then I thought it might be Juno with a message for me or her daughters, so I grabbed the receiver. Too late:
the recorded voice started up:

You’ve reached the Kingston residence –

‘Hello?’ I said. ‘Hello? Who is that?’

–Emmanuel, Juno, Sophie and –

‘Hang on while I see if I can turn – ’

– all busy doing thrilling things at the moment and can’t make it to the phone, but if you have something of burning importance to impart –

‘I think it’s nearly finished,’ I shouted.

– BEEEEEEEEP.

‘Juno?’

I half recognized the voice. ‘Juno’s away. Who is this? Can I help?’

‘It’s Kim. Who’s this, then?’

‘Ally.’

There was a pause.

‘Ally from next door.’

‘With the dead bird?’

‘Well, you were the one with—’

‘Oh yeah, I get you, hiya. Can I speak to Juno, please?’

‘She’s away visiting her mum.’

I could hear some talking in the background, then Kim said to me, ‘Up in Bradford? Right, yeah, it was a funny do, her old house being in the paper. My aunty has a house just like that in
Leyland. She’s done it very nice, but it’s poky. Han’t Juno done well for herself, when you think?’

‘Was there something specific you wanted me to pass on?’ I said coolly, though my heart was racing with indignation.

‘I’ve rang before,’ she said. ‘Left a message, but she didn’t . . . All it was, I wanted to say I hope there’s no hard feelings. You know.’

I imagined for a second I was Juno. I stood taller and lifted my head up, looked down the long hall at the afternoon sun casting coloured shadows through the stained glass door. ‘Of course
not!’ I trilled. ‘Why on earth would there be? It’s only a game-show, only for fun. We’ve all found it very entertaining, here, to see the way each person’s been
presented on camera. It’s actually been a fascinating process to see how the medium of television filters events—’ I stopped myself before a bitter tone came into my voice.

‘It’s great, in’t it? I’ve had loads of papers ringing up, since. I’ve even been stopped in the street. They’ll be asking for my autograph next!’

I made a huh sound that might have passed for a polite laugh.

‘Oh, while I’m on,’ she said, and I thought, here goes, I knew she’d be after something, ‘our Chris was wondering if Juno could give him a reference. He’s
wanting a Saturday job in some shop, I don’t know the details. I think it’s only packing stock. But he’s decided to put Juno down for some reason.’

‘I’ll tell her. I’m sure there’ll be no problem.’ Even though you are a sneaky manipulative cow.

I thought we’d reached the end and I was about to make goodbye-type noises, but then she said, ‘Did Manny tell you about my course?’