Tequila & Tea Bags (7 page)

He pauses, obviously considering if I’m worth the truth.

‘Because my grandad used to be there. I was off working in Leeds when he died.’ I stay silent, hoping he’ll continue. ‘I suppose I started there because I felt guilty I didn’t make it back before he passed. But now I realise how scared those people are. Imagine not being able to stay in your own home because you’re too old and thrown into a care home, where no one really gives a fuck.’

I consider it for a second. The idea is abhorrent to me. More the idea of getting old and wrinkly above anything else.

‘Exactly,’ he nods, pleased that I’m understanding. He probably assumes I’m a dumb ditsy blonde like everyone else. ‘I just want to make the home run as well as it can. Those people have supported this village their whole life. It's time for us to look after them.’

Who would have known it? Will has a heart. It's weird. Unsettling almost.

We sit in silence for a while pretending to watch EastEnders. Well, at least I’m pretending. He seems to be genuinely engrossed in it. How bizarre. I can't put my finger on it, but I feel ridiculously self-conscious being here like this. In socks with wet hair. It feels strangely intimate. It's almost more embarrassing than being naked. Almost.

The dun dun dun comes up as the show ends. He stands up. ‘I should get off.’

I hope he didn’t feel like he needed to stay out of courtesy. Or because he thinks I’m some lonely, pathetic girl.

‘Oh, of course.’ I stand up and walk him towards the door. I have a niggling feeling he may have seen more than he let on earlier. Maybe that’s why he’s being so nice to me. He’s seen my body and now he wants some of it. Stupid men, run by hormones.

I can't help it, I need to ask. ‘So, you didn’t see anything back there, right?’ I pull on a thread by my wrist. Anything to avoid looking at him.

He pulls on his coat and wraps his scarf around his neck, a smile threatening to break across his face.

‘Course not,’ he grins.

‘Thank God.’ I breathe out a sigh of relief, shaking my head at my ridiculous thoughts. ‘I’ll see you tomorrow.’

‘Yep.’ He turns to go, but just before I shut the door he stops me with his hand. ‘So is that a birth mark or a scar?’

I’m thrown. ‘What?’

Oh my God. It dawns on me. He’s referring to my right boob. I’ve got this weird brown freckle that could almost pass as a third nipple. He saw me. He saw me
good.

‘Wha…?’ I can't even speak.

He winks, nice and slow, before turning and walking down the road.

I hate him.

***

Tuesday 7
th
October

So it occurred to me today that I’m in charge of activities and to date I’ve planned no activities. That makes me bad at my job, and I don’t want to give Will any excuse to whinge about me. Or see me at all. The guy saw me naked. I’d rather not relive that embarrassment.

So I’ve decided to organise a few things. The most important being a dance I’m going to hold for the residents. They’re always telling me about their old music and how dancing was so romantic back in their day, so what better way to stimulate them. Plus, it’ll be great exercise. Well, for the ones that can still walk unaided.

I’m just jotting down a few songs that they’ve told me about when Beth grabs my attention, skipping into the room.

‘Got another one,’ she sings, pointing towards an impeccably presented, tall yet thin guy around my age.

I assess him quickly, trying to work out if he’s competition. Will walks in and shakes his hand, but the new guy seems uneasy. Then he tries to discreetly take out some sanitizer gel to spread on his hands. Bingo. A clean freak.

I rush over, quickly trying to smooth down my hair so he thinks I’m worthy of his time. It doesn’t help that I let Ethel braid it into six separate sections. Just seeing Will makes me flush, but I try to ignore him.

‘Hi, I’m Rose,’ I say, smiling widely. ‘I would shake your hand, but…you know…germs!’ I grimace, as if the thought grosses me out.

Will looks at me strangely. No doubt still imagining me naked. Pervert.

‘I get you!’ Eric chuckles, his eyes lighting up as if he’s finally met a person who understands him.

‘Will, I’ll show Eric the ropes.’ I link arms with him and start walking him down the hallway.

‘If you’re sure…’ Will calls out suspiciously. I look back to see him scratching his head, confused.

I lead him towards the second resident’s lounge which is packed up and covered with dust sheets so that it can be painted. Well, so that it can be painted by someone boring and trustworthy who is just going to paint it one colour. Will didn’t necessarily say that, but I know he was thinking it.

‘Oh dear,’ Eric says, clearly distraught as soon as we walk into the room. ‘What’s happened here?’

The mess must be killing him.

‘We’re getting it ready to be sanitised.’ I nod as if I know everything.

‘Thank God!’ he cries. ‘Something being cleaned! It's filthy in this place.’ He looks around distastefully as if he might catch the plague. It gives me an idea.

‘Tell me about it.’ I smirk. ‘But even now they’re only doing it because of the
outbreak
.’ I busy myself with adjusting a dust sheet, trying not to smile as this news settles over him.

‘Outbreak?’ he shrieks, his hand clutches up to his chest. ‘What…er, what outbreak?’ he asks as casually as he can, even when I know he’s already looking for his nearest exit. This idea was genius.

‘Oh…well, we’re not supposed to talk about it.’ I look away again, desperately trying not to let the smile break on my face. I bite my tongue so that my mind focuses on the pain.

‘Talk about what? Rose, what the hell happened?’ He’s almost hysterical now.

‘It’s no big deal,’ I put my hands up defensively. ‘Just a few residents that contracted MRSA.’ I literally feel his body tense at the word MRSA. ‘It's all cool now. They just need to sanitise the home and hope no one else catches it.’

‘Oh…so the people are all better now?’ His eyes narrow in on me and I realise one is twitching nervously.

I can't resist. ‘Well…they’re
gone
if that’s what you’re asking.’

‘GONE? Gone? Where?’ he shrieks, clearly beside himself with worry.

I lower my voice to a whisper. ‘They
passed
.’ I do the sign of the cross on my forehead and shoulders, really trying to make it believable.

‘They’re…dead? They
DIED?
’ he asks incredulously.

‘Shush! Lower your voice, will you? I’ll get fired if anyone finds out.’ Finds out that I’m lying, that is.

‘Surely the families were informed?’ I can almost feel the cogs in his head whirling.

‘They didn’t have any family,’ I sigh, feigning sadness.

‘But surely there would have been ambulances called?’

Uh-oh. He’s got me there, the bastard. Nothing happens in this village without everyone knowing about it. Think on your feet Rose.

‘It was too late by the time we found them. They’re…’ I lower my voice to a whisper, ‘well, they’re buried in the back garden.’

His eyes bulge out of his head. ‘What? WHAT?’

‘Please,’ I grab his hands, ‘don’t tell anyone.’ I flutter my eyelashes, trying to look as innocent and afraid as possible.

He throws off my hands, immediately spraying hand sanitizer over them and the rest of his arms. God, this guy is a nutter.

‘I have to get out of here! Tell them I quit!’ he shouts, running, practically screaming from the room.  

Another one bites the dust.

Wednesday 8
TH
October

‘Rose, do you have any idea why all of these volunteers keep quitting?’ Will asks me the next day.

I avoid looking right into his eyes. ‘Erm…no. They probably just…can't be bothered or something. It’s a real sad state of affairs if you ask me.’

‘Really?’ he challenges.

I make the mistake of looking up into his face. He’s looking down at me sceptically. Shit, he knows I’m lying. And he knows how bad I am at it. Quickly, Rose, think of something.

‘So, um…is there anything around here to do this weekend? Or is it still just fields and cows?’

He smiles slowly, relaxing slightly. ‘Actually there is this dressage thing this weekend. You should come. Most people in the village go.’

A dressage? What the hell is that?

‘Oh, okay. A dress thing. So is it like…a fashion show or something?’ I ask, sounding as clueless as I feel.

He doubles over laughing. What the hell’s so funny? I cross my hands over my chest, feeling affronted.

‘No, funnily enough, we don’t have much need for fashion shows in the Yorkshire countryside. I said a dressage. As in for
horses?
’

Horses? What the hell is he talking about?

‘Oh! The dressage for horses! Of course, yeah, I get it.’ I smile confidently, not wanting to look stupid.

I mean, do they put horses into dresses and then parade them around? That sounds…well, it actually sounds pretty hilarious.

‘Count me in.’

‘Okay,’ he nods, rocking onto his heels. ‘It’ll be good for you. Help you make some friends in the village.’

Make friends? Does he think I’m some kind of socially inept prat? Or an outcast? Or…does he think I’m a loner? I couldn’t give a shit if anyone likes me. But what
he
thinks of me…well, for some reason I care about that.

‘In the meantime, no more scaring off volunteers, hmm?’ He grins.

I feel my cheeks redden. He knows. I’m sure he knows. He smirks before turning and sauntering away. Shaking that delicious arse in my face the whole way. Delicious arse? Woah. What am I saying? I need to get me some. I’m starting to fancy Will!

What am I saying? I’m shagging his brother.

***

Later that night I’m trying on dress after dress of Elsie’s. She was deliriously excited when I told her I was going to this dressage thing. Apparently it's a big deal in the village and I think she has false hopes that it's my way of trying to integrate with everyone. More like so I don’t die of boredom. And if I happen to see James there again…well, so be it. The fact that he hasn’t bothered to text me or anything is really not bothering me at all. I mean, why should I be bothered? We just hooked up. But I suppose in a village this small it's hard not to realise when someone’s avoiding you. And now I keep panicking that I’ll bump into him in the street or something. I mean, how bloody awkward would that be?! Imagine if he just blanks me! And he still has my bra…

I throw another one off, huffing loudly in exasperation.

‘Another one! I told you, Elsie. Dresses just don’t fit over my boobs!’

I’ve always had the same problem. If I try to get a dress to fit my boobs then it hangs massively on my arms or works out too long. These manufacturers are too bloody used to all of these skinny minis. Hello, not all of us are the same size or shape, arseholes!

‘Well, you can't wear trousers,’ she says adamantly.

‘Too right. I’ll just wear my jeans or something. Or my leather mini skirt with a shirt.’

‘Yeah! Leather mini!’ Megan sings, indulging in the rest of Elsie’s giant chocolate bar. She really won't leave me alone, but the truth is that I’m really starting to love her.

‘You will NOT be wearing your mini skirt. This is
not
a mini-skirt kind of event,’ she says adamantly 

‘Jesus, what is it with this dressage?’ She shoots me a quick look for using the Lord’s name in vain. ‘Isn’t it just a load of ponies in snazzy outfits?’ I chuckle.

She looks confused, before her face splits into a grin. ‘You think…that horses dress up? Do you…not know what a dressage is?’ She looks to Megan who starts laughing too. They’re full on hysterical now. Annoying girly giggles that I want to smack off their faces. I hate being made to feel stupid.

‘Okay, smart arse! Tell me what it is,’ I challenge, shooting her the evil eye.

‘Let me think of how to explain it to you…didn’t you see Zara Philips do it at the Olympics?’

‘Do I look like someone that kept up with the Olympics?’ I was too busy celebrating with the tourists.

She sighs heavily.

Megan sits up. ‘Well, Michael McIntyre calls it dancing for gay horses.’ She collapses on top of the sofa, barely able to contain herself.

I’m surrounded by nutcases.

‘I don’t even know why I agreed to go to this stupid thing,’ I whinge, throwing myself on top of her.

She stops laughing and pushes me off her. I fall onto the floor with a thud. Elsie leans over me, gripping my shoulders. ‘Don’t be silly, Rose. We’ll find you a dress. Cinderella
will
go t’ ball.’

***

Friday 10
th
October

By Friday I still have no dress. I ordered a few emergency dresses online using Elsie’s credit card, but none of them fit. Even she can't believe it as I come out of the toilet, pulling a thumbs down to the last dress which won't go over my boobs.

‘It's no use, Elsie.’ I shrug, walking back into the lounge. ‘I’ve gone off the idea anyway.’

I didn’t even know what dressage is. I’ll probably make a fool of myself anyway. I don’t want to set myself up to look like a twat.

‘What’s this?’ Betty asks, leaning in, clearly eavesdropping and interested.

‘Nothing,’ I shrug, not wanting to get into it. Damn boobs.

‘It's not nothing,’ Elsie snaps. She turns to Betty. ‘She’s coming t’ dressage this weekend, but we can't find any dresses to fit over her gigantic boobs.’

‘Shut up!’ I hiss, shoving her. ‘And stop talking about my tits!’

‘Make the most of them,’ Betty chuckles. ‘Before you know it you’ll be tucking them into your socks.’

‘Betty!’ I can't help but laugh. I hope I’m as cool as her when I’m old.  

‘Well, lucky for you, I have a solution, my love.’ She pats me on my hand.

‘Oh?’ I’m intrigued.

‘Go to my house and get out a chest in the loft with a Rose on the front. Kind of funny, huh, I kept all of my favourite dresses from the fifties. Broads had big boobs and big bums back then. Any of those will fit you. I guarantee it.’

‘Wow. Are you sure, Betty?’ I gush, feeling strangely honoured…wearing a real vintage dress.

‘Go for it, girly. If you’ve got it, flaunt it!’

***

Saturday 11
th
October

‘Having fun?’ a voice says in my ear, their breath tickling my ear lobe.

I swivel round to face Will, looking dapper in a dark burgundy suit, his fitted blazer showing off his wide shoulders. His skinny green tie hangs long against his broad chest. Visions of me letting it slip through my fingers before pulling him to my mouth invades my mind. He’s grinning ear to ear as if he can read my mind. What is going
on
with me?

‘Yeah,’ I just about manage, pulling myself together before I start drooling.

‘You scrub up well. Who knew?’ He seems genuinely shocked. Rude bastard.

I look down at the red fifties prom style dress that I got from Betty’s attic. Its taffeta lined with a tulle overlay, velvet floral designs sown on it. Its red glittery sparkles catch on the natural sunlight. I fell in love with it the minute I saw it. It's stunning but still simple enough to wear to this event. Well, that’s what Elsie told me anyways. Either way it fits like a glove and everyone’s been staring at me all day. I thank God women were curvier back in those days.