To Catch a Creeper (25 page)

‘In future try water if you can. Or very diluted juice. And if Mummy buys sweets for you as well,’ he gives me a disapproving look, ‘make sure you eat them all at once.’

Chapter 24

‘He didn’t hurt you, did he?’ Sophie and I are walking towards home.

‘No.’

‘And you won’t need to see anyone again for six months, which is like ages away.’

‘I suppose,’ she says reluctantly. ‘Can I get some sweeties now?’

‘Uh uh. You heard what the dentist said. But you can have…’ I glance across the road and my heart does a little leap.

‘Come on.’

‘In here?’ Sophie cements her feet to the pavement as I struggle to get her through the door. ‘But it’s that smelly shop that Dad likes.’

‘It sells healthy food for healthy people, that’s all.’ I urge her forward.

‘Do they have sweets?’ We’re walking down the first aisle.

‘Healthy sweets, yes. Natural sugars. Look there’s…organic liquorice and dried banana chips and…Irish moss.’ I glance across at the man behind the counter. Mid-thirties, good looking in a rugged kind of way, wearing a pair of grey corduroy trousers and lumberjack style shirt.

‘You use that for thickening up stews – a gelling agent,’ he says in a faint American accent.

‘And this?’ I hold up a brown packet of something black and dried.

‘Hijiki. Japanese seaweed. Richest source of calcium you can get. Soak it for about fifteen minutes and then fry.’

‘This?’ I pick up a green packet of pills with what looks like a little mixing bowl on the front.

‘Herbulax. A laxative. All natural ingredients.’

‘Oh.’ I put it down as I feel a flush developing and grab something else quickly. A little blue bottle with a black stopper on it. ‘How about this?’

‘Roid Relief.’ He takes it from me and scrutinises the label. ‘For Haemorrhoids. You have piles?’

‘Who me? No, not me. My husband. Just a few.’

‘Well I’m sure they’ll do the trick. Organic anti-inflammatory, helps with the pain.’

‘Right.’

‘Anything else I can help you with, doll? Anything in particular you’re looking for?’ He steps towards me.

‘No, just browsing, ta.’ I turn over a packet of yeast tablets but hastily put them back when he approaches again. How I hate being hassled by pushy sales people.

A dog ambles over. Golden retriever. It sniffs at my leg and settles by my feet.

‘Oh, hi, Toby. Good boy,’ I say without thinking, as I pat his head.

‘You know my dog?’

‘No. I…I was here before.’

‘I don’t remember.’

‘Yes…yes, you sold me some…’ My eyes flit across the counters, ‘Valerian Ultra Plusonce. For my husband’s leg.’

‘Your husband’s leg?’ He laughs in a friendly way. Doesn’t seem like a rotter, but then often they’re hard to spot. ‘Valerian? Are you sure it wasn’t a sleep disorder?’

‘Oh yes… But it was his leg causing the sleep disorder, that’s what I meant. It was very…er…gammy.’

‘Gammy, huh? And I guess the piles and constipation didn’t help?’ He narrows his eyes. ‘She sent you, didn’t she?’

‘Who?’ I say innocently.

‘Diane. My ex.’

‘Ex-to-be?’ I say smartly.

‘Aha, so she did send you.’

‘No, she didn’t. She really didn’t. I just happened to be passing and wanted some…’

‘Valerian Ultra Plus…for your husband’s gammy leg. Look, doll, I wasn’t born yesterday.’

‘OK. OK.’ I sigh. ‘It’s just…it seems so sad, that two grown up people who obviously love each other can’t get past a crazy one night stand.’

‘
One
crazy one night stand?’

‘You had
more than one
?’

‘
I
had more than one?’

‘Well then, that’s not good, is it?’

‘It wasn’t
me
sleeping around,’ he splutters, as I point Sophie over to the red liquorice section. ‘It was
Diane
. From the day we got married and onwards. She was a virgin until our wedding night,’ he lowers his voice. ‘And it was, well it was like unleashing a tornado or letting a genie out of a jar or…’

Cut with the similes, you’re crap at them, I want to quip, but he’s looking too serious. Instead I go, ‘So it was her that did the dirty, not you?’

‘The waiter at the honeymoon hotel, coach driver on the excursion bus, even the guy in the ironmongers down the road when she got back. She flaunted it in front of me. Didn’t seem to care if I knew or not. Maybe it’s the way they carry on in London, England, but they sure don’t behave like that in Belchertown, Massachusetts.’

‘No, I’m sure they don’t. And they don’t behave like that here, normally, in Crouch End, London.’ Can’t vouch for the rest of England. ‘Though there’s always exceptions everywhere, aren’t there?’

‘Maybe so, but a man has his limits…’

‘I’m sorry, I didn’t know. I really didn’t. We never discussed it in any great detail. We’re not that close.’ I backpedal my metaphoric bicycle.

‘And now she’s trying to sting me for every cent she can. God, I rue the day I set eyes on that little minx. I should have listened to Mom and Pops. Worst mistake of my life. Hey, look, doll, you want to buy anything or not?’

‘Yes. Yes. I’ll have this liquorice.’ Sophie’s just brought them over to me. ‘And these yoghurt covered almonds.’ I pick up a packet. ‘And, er, and maybe some diced pineapple chunks. Daddy will like these, eh, Sophie? My husband’s into healthy eating,’ I explain. ‘Not that it helps much. He’s going through a mini-breakdown.’

‘I’m not surprised with a gammy leg, piles and constipation. Not to mention the sleep disorder. Here,’ he slips a bottle of St John’s Wort into my handbag, ‘have these on the house. Good for depression and might do something for that leg of his. Never know.’

‘Thanks,’ I smile sympathetically at him as I leave.

What a genuine nice generous guy.

And the vet – what a bitch.

Take back what I said about becoming her friend. She can go run and jump.

***

‘We are gathered together here tonight because…’

Pimple and I decided that, even though it was Sunday, we should call an extraordinary general meeting of the WOWs and as a special treat invite the Neighbourhood Watch mob along. It was fine having these phone calls flying back and forth between us all week, but we needed to get together to coagulate our findings. The minute Shilpa saw them she signed them all up, Henrietta, Isobel and Janet. It was like all her birthdays and Christmases had come at once.

So that’s why we’re here, at Henrietta’s. She has the biggest house of all of us and a decent-sized L-shaped tastefully-decorated-in-mute-colours living room.

Pimple and I are seated at the top table with Norman beside us taking minutes. Red and Purple Jumper are helping themselves to the delicious canapés that Henrietta whipped up, Shilpa and Janet are in deep conversation. They apparently travelled up the road together, living two doors away from each other but never realising.

‘So let’s see,’ I shuffle a few papers. ‘We have the greedy vet with the loose morals, separated from her husband, moving to smaller premises.’

‘Who might possibly be the burglar to recoup some of his money and then he might burgle all the other houses to cover up for it,’ offers Janet.

‘One or two maybe,’ Isobel scoffs. ‘But nine’s rather excessive.’

‘I agree with Isobel,’ I join in. ‘Besides, I’ve met him and he’s too nice to do anything like that. Bitter, yes, but understandably so with the way she’s been putting it about.’

‘And then we have my publican,’ says Shilpa, ‘who was moving house too.’

‘As was my dentist,’ I add. ‘Barrington Road.’

‘But so was our solicitor, Nightingale Avenue,’ Red and Purple Jumper say in unison. Actually saying that, I shouldn’t be calling them that, not only because they’re not wearing red and purple jumpers today, but because I now know their names, Trevor and Robert.

‘That’s what we were going to tell you, Cathy,’ Trevor (Red Jumper) says.

‘Before you slammed down the phone,’ adds Robert (Purple Jumper).

I had to, Declan had unexpectedly arrived home.

‘And my housewife,’ Isobel informs everyone, ‘had just signed contracts.’

We all gasp.

Could this be a connection?

‘Two’s a coincidence, three’s a pattern, four’s a dead cert,’ says Shilpa in a spooky voice.

‘But then my bachelor wasn’t moving house,’ Janet as usual spokes the works. ‘So we shouldn’t jump too far ahead.’

I have to agree. ‘Sometimes you think you’ve found a pattern only for it to be completely blown away.’ Like them all being professionals and all living in streets, etc.

‘Maybe they’re in the same house chain and someone’s bumping them off?’ suggests Shilpa, still using the spooky voice.

‘First of all, no-one’s being bumped off,’ Pimple puts her straight. ‘Secondly the publican’s moving to Hereford and the solicitor to Surrey, so I hardly imagine they could be.’

As she says this Neil bursts through the door dressed in faded jeans, navy open-necked short-sleeved shirt, rippling muscles, sun-tanned and gorgeous. You could eat him alive.

‘Hi, ladies and gents.’ He smiles at everyone, melting their hearts. The women that is. Apart from Janet, oh and Henrietta who’s been giving him stony looks all evening. ‘Cathy, Declan’s on the phone for you. He said Alec just called. Rosa’s on her way to the hospital and she needs you there.’

‘Oh my God! Not the baby again!’ I jump up, horrified.

‘Cathy, babes, calm down.’ Henrietta grabs my face and makes me slow breathe by staring into her eyes and copying her movements. ‘It’s OK. It’s OK. She’s full-term now.’

‘Oh yes…’ But still. I pant twice in rapid succession. ‘Oh God…’

***

‘Cathy, help me! Help me!’ Rosa’s writhing around on the bed, Alec by her side holding her hand.

‘Thank Christ, you’re here.’ He points to a monitor with two wavy lines. ‘It’s been up and down, up and down. And poor Rosa’s in agony, aren’t you, love?’

‘When did it all start?’

‘Early this afternoon,’ he replies, ‘but they didn’t want us in until the contractions were at least fifteen minutes apart.’

‘Although…’ Rosa groans and checks her watch, ‘now they broke my waters, they’re really speeding up.’

‘And trust our luck, the midwives have all gone and bloody disappeared.’ Alec shakes his head.

‘Too few on duty,’ adds Rosa.

‘I knew we should have paid for private, darling.’ Alec shakes his head again.

‘Ahhhhh!’ Rosa shrieks. ‘They’re…coming again.’ She focuses on me. ‘It’s bloody painful.’

‘Oh, sweetheart, I know, I know.’ I hold her hand while Alec extracts his.

‘Why didn’t you tell me? Aaah!’ Her face contorts. ‘Why didn’t you…bloody…tell me?!’

‘I-I was always going to,’ I stutter. ‘But it’s one of those things. You have to lie otherwise your friends won’t end up having children and you’ll be all on your own while they’re out having fun travelling the world and…’ My voice fades as she begins contracting again.

‘Oh…ooh…a…period…pain…you said? Mild cramps, you said?’

‘Kind of an exaggerated period pain, eh?’

‘Times a trillion billion. Talk to me,’ she orders. ‘Talk to me now, you bitch.’

‘What about?’

She’s squeezing my hand so much it really hurts. Even more than Sophie’s at the dentist and that’s saying something. No wonder Alec extracted his as soon as I took over.

‘Anything!’

‘Um…um…well what about…what about when you dragged me to drama evening classes and we had to close our eyes and be led around by a partner to show trust.’

She nods. ‘And you tried burning my hand on a radiator.’

‘Only because you’d walked me into a door. And then we had to do that method acting, pretending we were animals. You were a dog cocking his leg on everyone.’

She smiles and then winces, ‘And you were an ostrich, pecking people.’

‘Shame we were kicked out for not taking it seriously.’

‘We could have been good. We could…have hit…the West End… Ooh…ohhhh… More!’ She’s breathing faster again.

‘Breathe, Rosa. Deep breaths. And do you remember those hairpieces we brought that were about twenty inches long and plaited and we used to wear them around the pubs and people would say to us, “I never knew your hair was
that
long”.’

She smiles and Alec does too. Contractions obviously ceasing.

‘And that year we sang in the King’s Head for their charity night and we did Blueberry Hill and we practised for ages beforehand with David and Annie videoing it and everything, but when it came to the night, we were bloody awful.’

‘We never went there again, did we?’ She’s relaxed now, thank God. ‘What else?’

What else?

‘When we’d go grocery shopping and we never had a car. And the plastic bags used to bite into our hands making our palms criss-crossed with white marks. And then you bought that dirty old tartan trolley from Oxfam.’

‘People used to stare.’

‘Thing is,’ I recall, ‘we never cared. We just never cared how we looked or what people thought of us or anything.’

‘We didn’t, did we?’ she smiles dreamily, then her face twists, pain obviously coming back.

‘How about drugs? Do you want some drugs?’

‘No!’ She howls, ‘You’re my drug. You have to keep me off them.’

‘Think up some stories, Alec,’ I plead. ‘I’m dry.’

‘I don’t know any stories,’ he says miserably as he stares at the monitor again which is beeping and has lines going all over the place. ‘Shall I go find a midwife?’

‘I think you’d better. Either that or nip out and get a joke book. There’s a Waterstones round the corner.’

She’s panting away now, red cheeks blown out like a Japanese puffer fish.

I watch as Alec leaves the room.

‘Remember,’ I lower my voice, ‘that guy you bonked at a party and then found out it was our new flatmate’s boyfriend and you had to sneak back in the next day, all dirty and ashamed.’

‘I didn’t know,’ she flails her head from side to side like she’s an old fashioned heroine in a delirious fever. ‘I honestly didn’t. It was only when I saw a photo of her…in his living room…that I clicked.’

‘Serve her right for keeping him away from us. And remember when we first met at Johnson &Phillips and no-one wanted to go out for lunch until you came along, and then once we began going to the pub everyone joined us. They were like sheep waiting to be taken. You were the shepherd, Rosa.’