Stilettos & Stubble (28 page)

I’d tried to talk
to my father about Lubov.  To see what he really felt.  But he’d blushed and
stuttered, avoided my questions and then told me to stop being so nosey.  His
visits to the club ceased completely and even his calls to me became scarce.

I started to
worry about him.  He didn’t really have many friends and The Glove had become a
place he’d loved to hang out at and shoot the breeze.  I didn’t want him
sitting alone in his flat with no one to talk to, but when I tried to reach out
to him he pushed me away.

Lubov would often
ask me how he was and all I could really report back was ‘Not sure.’  It wasn’t
much use to her but it was all I could offer.  I decided I’d give him his time
to get over his embarrassment and then, hopefully, we’d be able to move on.

As we hurtled
towards the festive season, all our spare time was spent on making sure the
acts delivered the best shows ever and praying for that elusive miracle.  We’d
been unable to find any loopholes in the tenancy agreement and Annie had
decided to start the arduous task of looking for new premises in the New Year. 
Relocation wasn’t ideal but we seemed to be left with no choice.

On the morning of
Annie’s surgery Lubov and I were chatting over a coffee and waiting for the
call from Tittie to say that the procedure was over.  Carols were playing
quietly in the background and I felt the urge to chuck the radio in the bin.  I
didn’t want the enforced jollity of everybody’s bloody goodwill and I fully
intended to spend most of Christmas under my duvet with a giant Figgy pudding and
a family-sized tub of custard.

Luke’s calls had
stopped.   Well, I could hardly blame him.  How long did I expect him to keep
on trying?  But now they’d stopped I wanted them to start again and allow
myself to dream of the Christmas that might have been.

But Slade were
screaming ‘
Merry Christmas!’
and all I wanted to do was yell back, ‘
Shut
the fuck up!
’

Lubov was humming
along in her sultry voice and then she stopped and said, ‘Lubov vill not stay ven
ze club moves.  I go back home.  For me ze magic is in zis building - so many
happy memories.  Ze bubble vill burst if ze club moves.  Lubov knows zeese
sings.’

A tiny involuntary shudder went through me as I realised she could
be right.

Chapter
Twenty-Eight

Annie’s op was
successful and we all breathed a sigh of relief.  The queens took turns with
hospital visits taking a range of ridiculous presents - a lilac lace
bed-jacket, a willy-warmer and a copy of their completed manuscript, ‘Fifty
Shades of Shocking Pink.’

Most of my spare
time was spent working on my own writing.  ‘Inside the Gossamer Glove’ was
coming along nicely and it was liberating to write what I felt comfortable with
- to leave the sickly sweet heroines and sleazeball heroes behind me.

I found my talent
lay in writing humour - I could even make
myself
giggle on occasions and
it felt good.  There was never a shortage of one-liners or anecdotes at the
club for me to play with or to turn into a scene and the words were flying out
of me at a rate of knots.

It was the one
thing I had Luke to thank for - had I not met him, I’d never have considered
changing my writing style and I had a good feeling about this book.  I was sure
that people would like it.

I was just
tackling a tricky lovers’ tiff between two of my main characters - with many
barbed put downs, flying feathers and poisonous venom, when my mobile began to
ring.

It was Chelsea and Westminster hospital.  But not with an update on Annie, as I’d originally
thought.

My dad had
suffered a heart attack and was in a critical condition.

*****

Lubov and I spent
the next few days by my dad’s bed.  We talked to him and stroked his hands,
willing him not to give up the fight.  Telling him he still had so much to live
for, if he could just drag himself back from the coma.

I beat myself up
with guilt.  If only I’d insisted on trying to talk to him, in spending time
with him, maybe none of this would have happened.  Lubov brushed my worries aside
and told me not to be silly.  No one was to blame for this.

I couldn’t
imagine a life without Dad and I refused to accept it happening now.  It was
not
his time and it was frustrating not being able to communicate this to him.

Our constant
vigil was exhausting but Lubov and I took strength from one another and became
closer than ever before.  We needed each other and, in our darkest moments,
clung to one another and sobbed.

She really
did
love my dad and, as I got to know her more, I could see how right they could
have been for one another - they were both kind, loving people with a quick wit
and a desire for a simple life.  She shared none of my mother’s qualities - no
vanity, snobbery or distorted ideas above her station.  She’d just wanted to
share a life of love and friendship with my dad and had honestly believed she’d
found her soul mate.

Our daily routine
had become the norm.  Tittie had been great about letting us have time off and
had reorganised the rota in a flash.  We promised we’d also take it turns to
nip along to Annie’s ward on the floor below and see him as often as we could.

Annie was adamant
though and would usually brush us away with, ‘I don’t
need
you to be
here.  I’m just fine!  I only want to see you back here when you’ve got
good
news to report - now get back to gorgeous Gordon and tell him Annie says to
pull his bloomin’ self together.  Can’t have him stealing my thunder!’

The hours passed
in a blur of foul coffee and cardboard sandwiches.  Nurses came and went,
checking Dad’s stats and smiling sympathetically, often with kind words such as
‘No change is good’ or ‘Let’s hope he’s sorted before Christmas, eh?’

We’d just finished
yet another weeping session, when Lubov wiped her nose on her sleeve and said,
‘I vould just be happy for him to get vell.  I know ve can never be togezzer but
I vant him to live.  To find love again maybe.  To be happy.’

That
was true, unselfish love and I felt a lump form in my throat once
again.

‘I voz so silly,
Percy.  I vould dream of marrying zis man.  He voz best sing ever.  But he no
love me.’  She shook her head sadly and looked down at her hands on her lap.

‘I bloody
do
love you!’  My dad’s eyes were open and he was focused on both of us.  ‘God,
will you
look
at the pair of you!  Did someone around here die?’

We both rushed to
his side and started talking at once.

‘Oh my God, he
vakes!’

‘Daddy!  You did
it!’

‘Vot you
mean
,
you love me?’

‘Oh will you shut
up, the pair of you!  Bloody women talking all at once!  If you don’t put a
couple of socks in it I’ll slip away again.  I’m warning you,’ he said with a
grin.

It was the best
smile I’d ever seen in my life.  My daddy’s smile.

*****

We left the
doctors and nurses to complete their checks and Lubov and I jumped up and down excitedly
in the corridor.  We clung to one another, this time in joy, and we laughed in
relief as we whooped.

‘He say he love
me, Percy!  He did, didn’t he?  I no have funny turn and imagine stupid sing?’

I grabbed her
hands and we jumped up and down again.

‘No, Lubov.  He
definitely
said he loved you.  And I do too.’  Suddenly realising I actually
did.  ‘
Thanks
so much for everything.   You’re a true friend.’

‘I love you too
Percy.  My big girl buddy!  And maybe … just maybe … one day I be your
step-mummy!’

This set us off
on a whole new round of whooping and hollering and we didn’t care one iota
about the strange looks we received from passers-by.

*****

My dad was going
to be OK.  He’d need to take it easy, watch his diet, pack away his pipe and
keep an eye on his alcohol intake - but he was going to be just fine.

He and Lubov
finally had the chat they needed and he admitted to being an old fool.  The
years didn’t matter to him anymore - she made him happy, she really cared for
him and they belonged together.  She was overjoyed.  The light had been
switched back on and she beamed and glowed.  Each mealtime she’d appear with
home cooked food declaring the NHS offerings as ‘Shit on plate!’

‘My Gordon vill
never get strong on zis crap.  I feed him up and take him home.  Lubov is goot
nurse.’

Daddy, for all
that he’d been through, looked the picture of health.  He’d shed years and
blossomed under the umbrella of Lubov’s love.

It was the
afternoon before Christmas Eve and it was looking very much like both Annie and
my dad would be discharged the next day.  We were planning to spend a quiet
Christmas at my flat - just me, Daddy and Lubov.  I’d told them that I was
happy to spend it alone so that they could be together but they insisted on
‘family’ time and I was secretly relieved to know I would have company.

There was much
excitement on my dad’s ward - many patients were preparing to go home and
others were resigning themselves to an enforced festive stay and deciding to
make the most of it.  The buzz kicked up a notch when suddenly, into the ward,
came Tittie, Lady, Vi and Ma - in full drag and bearing gifts.

‘Merry Christmas
one and all,’ Tittie boomed as he tottered on his six inch purple heels, a
headdress of mistletoe dangling precariously over his auburn wig.

‘Gordon!  Lovie! 
You gave us all a nasty shock, you bad boy.  Slappies on bumbies when you get
out of here, OK?’

My dad laughed
and shook Tittie’s hand.  Tittie leaned forward and whispered, ‘Seriously Gord,
I’m so glad you’re OK.’  And he gave him a tiny kiss on the cheek.

Blushing and
grinning from ear to ear, my dad accepted grapes, Lucozade and huge boxes of
chocolates.

Lubov immediately
confiscated the latter and said they would be handed out on rations.  ‘Ve need
to keep eye on cholesterol and too many sveeties is bad for you.’

Much good natured
ribbing followed, with the queens winding my dad up, saying he was henpecked
and under the thumb.

Lubov blushed and
good-naturedly batted their banter away.

‘Vot?  It is
crime
to love a man?  Zen hang me!  I am guilty.’  She perched on the side of the bed
and planted a blood red lipstick kiss on my dad’s forehead and he looked up at
her and beamed.

It was a lovely,
if bizarre scene.  My father propped on pillows in the new paisley silk pyjamas
Lubov had bought him.  Lubov next to him in a scarlet mini dress showing all
her curves at their best with a fur-trimmed Santa hat on her head, Tittie
pretending to peel grapes and feeding them to my dad, Lady and Vi hand in hand singing
‘Jingle Bells’ and Ma with an arm slung around my shoulder encouraging me to
bop along with him.

Nothing could
ruin our mood.  Not even the sight of my mother storming into the ward and
demanding what the hell was going on.

*****

My first thought
was
‘Shit!  In all the doom and gloom I really had forgotten to call her and
tell her Daddy was ill’.  
My second was ‘
What the hell!  She’d treated
him badly and I thought she was meant to be on some fancy cruise anyway!’

‘Gordon!  What on
earth do you think you’re playing at!  Put that tart down at once and act your
age, you silly little man.’

She then turned
to me.  ‘And as for
you
, young lady, I’m ashamed of you!  How could you
not call your own mother at a time like this?’

The queens
recoiled in horror at my mother’s unwelcome invasion and spiteful tongue and Tittie
stepped forward to speak.

My mother raised
a hand to silence him and added, ‘I have no reason to converse with you.  I
don’t know
what
you think you’re doing hanging around with my husband
but if it’s money you’re all after, you can forget it.’

Tittie was
speechless and stepped back with, ‘How rude!’  He looked to the others for back
up.

My father pulled
himself up to as much height as his pillows would allow and Lubov made him
comfortable.  ‘Sophia, you have no right to come barging in here being vile to
my friends.  Our marriage is over - the divorce is going ahead and, once it’s
final, I have every intention of marrying this lovely young lady.’  He took
Lubov’s hand and smiled at her.  ‘As for money, I’ve told you, you’ll be looked
after.  But I
do
think you need to know that I intend to be putting a
large chunk of my savings into helping The Glove.’  He turned to Tittie.  ‘It
won’t solve
all
your problems by any means, but I hope it will help.’

Tittie
practically jumped on the bed and flung his arms around my dad’s neck, kissing
him over and over again like an excited puppy.

‘Oh, for goodness
sake!’  My mother stood with her hands on her hips and threw her head back in
disbelief.  ‘I’ve heard of mid-life crisis but this is bloody ridiculous!  Gordon,
will you get a grip and come home where you belong.  Your stupid game is over
now.’

Daddy turned and
looked at her, hair ruffled and his face now positively covered in lipstick. 
‘Just leave, Sophia.  You’re spoiling the party atmosphere.’

My mother opened
her mouth to speak but was stopped in her tracks by a voice from behind her.  ‘You
heard him, lady!  Just go.’  Annie was standing there in his regulation
hospital gown with a fiery glint in his eye.

‘And
who
exactly do you think
you
are to come in here and tell me what to do?  What
role do
you
play in this sordid little story?’