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Authors: Debbie Viggiano

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BOOK: Lipstick and Lies
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I shrugged
and sighed
.
‘I shall look forward to dancing with my husband at the
b
ank’s ball. You’d better get ready for work
,
or you’ll be late.’

‘Yep,’ Jamie took Eddie from me for a quick cuddle.
‘And by the way Cassie, don’t mention anything to Morag and Nell a
bout Mum’s marriage proposal.’

‘Of course not,’ I replied.

‘So when do you think Edna will make up her mind abou
t marrying Arthur?’ asked Nell.

‘I really don’t know.

I set three mugs on the table and moved a screwdriver out of the way.
Clearly Edna had left it behind.
Nell, Morag and I had
congregated, this time in my kitchen, for
one of our regular coffee mornings.
‘Edna hasn’t even mentioned the marriage
word
to me.
Only to Jamie.’

‘So Mum’s the word,’ said Morag
,
tapping her nose.

‘Discretion is my middle
name,’ Nell assured.

Outside the sounds of Edna and Arthur banging and crashing
about
on the boat filtered across the driveway.
In between bashes,
a blaring radio could be heard
.

‘Just think Cass,’ said Morag reflectively, ‘all that wasted time we spent looking for potential husbands.
Trawling wine bars.
Nightclubs.
Not forgetting speed dating.
And
what we should have done
was
visit
our local B&Q and loiter around the paint aisles.
And then we’d have been up to our elbows not just
in
boats
,
but dreamboats.
Funny old world.’

Nell picked up her coffee and blew on it.
‘Didn’t you two also try out The Lonely Hearts column in the local rag?’

‘Oh God
,
’ scoffed Morag, ‘
all those
pitiful specimens who advertised themselves in print
.
Do you remember
,
Cass
,
going on a blind date with that Granddad who tried to make out he was only forty
-
something years old?’

I
put some
Hob Nobs on the table.
‘Don’t remind me.
Certainly there were a few who told porkies
about themselves.’

‘Like what?’ Nell stretched a hand across t
he table and palmed a Hob Nob.

‘Well, there was one guy who waxed lyrical about himself.
Said he was passionate, open-minded, advent
urous and emotionally secure.’

‘Sounds too good to
be true,’ Nell pulled a face.

‘And was,’ I agreed
,
helping myself to a Hob Nob.
‘He turned out to be a desperate, pathological liar, on medica
tion with stalker tendencies.’

‘Or what about that guy who insisted he was
thirtyish
, athletic and
large framed?’ Morag giggled.

‘Bit of a
hunk?’ Nell raised an eyebrow.

‘If you like hugely fat sixty year olds with bigger boobs than me.
The women were just as bad,’ said Morag.
‘You can bet your last fiver that if a woman described herself as a fun, new age feminist it actually meant she was an annoying whinger with body hair in th
e wrong places.’

‘Well you both found your soulmates in the end,’ Nell brushed crumbs off her hands
before reaching for her mug
.
‘And with a bit of luck
,
Edna has found hers too.’

‘Found my
what?’ said a familiar voice.

I froze.
Christ, I hadn’t heard the back door open.
How long had she been standing there listening to us gossiping?
Long enough to hear me indiscreetly talking about marriage proposals that I wasn’t even meant to
know about, never mind repeat?

‘Um, your screwdriver,’ I snatched up the forgotten
implement
and waggled it at Edna.

‘Thank you Cassandra dear,’ Edna wiped her feet before coming over to me and retrieving
it
.
She slid
the screwdriver
into the folds of a leather tool satchel strung around her waist.
‘Don’t mind me girls, carry on talking.
I’ve just popped in to make Arthur and myself a quick sandwich.’
Edna
washed her hands
at the sink
before removing
t
he breadboard from a cupboard.

‘I must say, you’re a dark horse Edna,’ Nell chirruped.
‘I didn’t even know you’d bought a boat, never mind found yourself a
bloke.
So
you’re
shacking up together
on an
ocean wave
.
Nifty work
!
W
hat’s this Arthur like then?’

Morag and I stared at each other, appalled.
I caught Nell’s eye and made a slicing motion across my throat.
All that tripe about
d
iscretion being her middle name.
Nell looked perplexed.
‘What’s the matter?’ she hissed, ‘
I’m only making conversation.’

There was a pregnant pause.
Edna sliced up some bread.
Morag was suddenly very interested in the contents of my fruit bowl.
I studied my
finger
nails.

‘Arthur is indeed a very nice
bloke
,’ Edna eventually said
.

Nice enough for me to share the expense of a boat restoration project and,’ she reached into the fridge for some butter, ‘whilst I wouldn’t term it as
shacking up
together
on
an
ocean wave
, it is true that we are seriously thinking ab
out committing to each other.’

‘H
ow do you mean Edna?’ I asked.

Edna returned the butter to the fridge and pulled out some thin slices of rare beef.
My
stomach
gave a sudden
growl
of
hunger.
‘I
might
as well tell you
,
Cassandra dear
,
that Arth
ur has asked me to marry him.’


Ooooh
how exciting,’ Nell
shrieked.
‘Cass said–’

I kicked Nell hard under the table.
‘That’s absolutely
wonderful
Edna,’ I gushed.
‘Let me be t
he first to congratulate you.’

Edna blushed.
‘Well thank you Cassandra dear
,
but I haven’t yet accepted Arthur’s proposal.
We’ve only known each other for a brief time.
Committing to a boat restoration is one thing.
I can extract myself from that any time I like.
Signing up for marriage is something else
,
and will need thinking through.
Carefully.

Morag cleared her throat.
‘Well you must have some good vibes about Arthur to have made such a financial commitment with the boat.

‘Of course.
But the boat can be sold.
For a tidy profit too.
Whereas a marriage,’ Edna cut the crusts off the sandwiches, ‘well
that’s
a co
mpletely different ball game.’


You can say that again
,’ Nell laughed smuttily.

‘Well whatever decision you reach,’ I glared at Nell, ‘I’m sure it will be the right one.’

‘Thank you Cassandra dear.
Now if you’ll excuse me girls, I must take these sandwiches out to Arthur.
Grafting is hungry work.’

‘Laters Edna,’ Nell waved.
The back door shut.
‘Aw, your mum-in-law looks quite loved up.
I wonder what it’s like getting your le
g over at seventy-two.’

‘For heaven’s sake Nell, talk about royally dropping me in it!
And fancy referring to Arthur as a
bloke
.
He’s quite refined.
Ex-Merchant Navy stock.
Not Uncle Albert from
Fools and Horses
!’

‘Oh keep your hair on Cass.
I was just joshing with Edna
,
and she knew it.
So what if she’s seventy-two
?
She’s still a woman like the three of us.
With emotions.
And dreams.
And unfulfilled urges.’

‘Speak for yourself,’ Morag sniffed.
She shifted on her stool, straightened her back and stuck her chest out.
I instantly recognised the body language.
Morag was revving up to tell us her latest sexy shenanigans.
And under no circumstances was she to be interrupted.
‘Last night we
did something very different.’

‘You mean you didn’t go to the stud far
m?’ I muttered.


What stud farm?’ Nell frowned.

‘Last night we went in the
car,’ Morag nodded, eyes wide.


To the stud farm?’ asked Nell.

‘For a drive Nellie-Wellie,’ Morag said irritably, ‘keep up.
We went for a drive and parked in a lonely, dark lane
.’

‘Why?’

‘For fun!’ Morag trilled.
‘I was the driver.
Matt was in the passenger seat.
Blindfolded and handcuffed.
He was my hostage.’

‘Did anybody see you?’ I asked.
I wasn’t quite sure what the Old Bill would have made of
a female
driving along with a blindfolded ma
n
sitting next to her.

‘No!’ she sighed, ‘It was dark remember?
So I parked up, dropped the back seats down and ordered Matt into the back of the car.
Then I demanded he strip off.’

‘What the heck would you have done if somebody had come along Morag?’
I shook my head incredulously.

‘All part of the thrill
.
B
ut in reality that wouldn’t have happened.
It was
an uninhabited country lane.’

‘No stud farm?’ asked Nell.

‘It was my Ford G
alaxy Nell,’ Morag enunciated.

‘Blimey, all that fuss you made when
you took me to hospital,’ Nell fumed, ‘
insisting
on
towels
in your car
, and there you are rogering your husband senseless on the upholstery
.’

‘Slightly different.
Matt was on his back.
And I climbed on top of him.
No spillages.’

I groaned.
Too much information.

‘So,’ Morag continued, ‘I
then
whispered to Matt that he was my sex slave
, and
I could
do to him whatever I pleased.’

‘And what did Matt say to that?’ I picked up a Hob Nob
,
but held off bitin
g into it for fear of choking.

‘He was whimpering.
Absolutely begging me to let him go.
He s
aid he had a wife who would be
furious with him
.’

‘But tha
t’s you,’ Nell looked puzzled.

‘Yes
.
W
e were
pretending
Nell.
You know.
Fantasising.’

Nell shook her head slowly.
‘I see.’
She clearly didn’t.

‘And I called him a bad boy for rising – literally – to the charms of another woman.’

‘Who was that?’ Nell frowned.

‘Me of course!
W
e were still pretending, yes?’

‘And then what happened?’ I r
isked biting into the Hob Nob.

‘We both had the noisiest most incredible climax at exactly the same time.
Matt was going, “Guuuh-guh-guh-guh,” and I was going, “Aaaaaaaah ah ah ah
.”

BOOK: Lipstick and Lies
13.9Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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