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‘SORRY I’M A FEW MINUTES late. I wanted to get changed,’ Veronica said, rushing up to Saskia who was loitering outside Blakely’s, as fast as the fitted skirt of the bold floral print dress would let her. It had been an age since she’d worn anything other than jeans or her uniform. The dress felt foreign but it also made her feel feminine and she loved its bright colours, they made her happy. Tyrone had said she looked gorge when she’d emerged from the staff’s toilets. She’d chosen to take it he meant gorgeous and not that she looked as though she’d stuffed herself. It was strange too, to have grown half an inch thanks to her heels and she hoped she didn’t roll her ankle or anything equally inelegant tottering about town.
She’d washed her hair that morning although she’d had to leave the house with it still damp thanks to Abi. She picked her moments to lock herself in the only bathroom, taking far longer than necessary in there given she had nowhere specific to be. So far as Veronica was aware her plans for the day involved calling in on their mum again and then seeing if she could catch up with some of her old school pals, all of whom were married with children these days and wouldn’t give a toss whether she had beachy waves or bed hair or whatever. It was unbelievable how long it took to look as though you’d gone to no effort at all, she’d thought when her sister had finally emerged. The boys had been unimpressed at barely having time to brush their teeth let alone fiddle around with their own hair as was their norm of a morning. Abi had told them she was preparing them for when they had girlfriends.
Thankfully her hair hadn’t kinked or frizzed and was sitting bouncily around her shoulders and looking at Saskia in her elegant pantsuit she was pleased she’d gone to the effort of getting changed and freshening her makeup. Her friend with her sleek brown bob, impeccable makeup and the fashionable wardrobe her teenage daughter helped her choose, was probably the most glamorous nurse in the NHS. She looked fabulous as always and definitely not heartbroken so that was a good sign. This wasn’t going to be a bagging men session then. Unless, she got started on the Jason topic.
The old friends embraced. ‘Gosh, it’s been ages. Your hair, Ronnie! It looks fantastic. It’s so you. Much more like the Ronnie of old.’ Saskia held her at arm’s-length giving her the once-over. ‘It’s so good to see you. What is that perfume, it’s divine?’ She was a million miles an hour.
‘It’s Envy Me by Gucci.’ Veronica beamed. She’d chosen it for its tangy wild fruits and musk scent, sophisticated yet subtle, and she definitely didn’t feel like the invisible woman tonight. ‘I’ve missed you and you look amazing too.’ The pair linked arms and set off down the high street chattering and giggling like girls on their way home from school as they filled one another in on the latest news. Veronica felt positively carefree with the heady mix of an old friend’s company and an evening that was far too glorious to stay in watching television—not that she could get anywhere near hers anyway, not with Abi’s stuff spread far and wide throughout the living room. Her sister had redeemed herself post bathroom hold-up having announced she’d treat herself and the boys to a curry from the Indian down the road for dinner which meant for the next couple of hours, she had no responsibilities. She was footloose and fancy free.
The street was teeming with people making their way home, and a sense of anticipation and good humour at the impending weekend and the possibility of more sunshine to come hung in the air. The traffic crawled down the narrow old street of the market town with its Tudor facades in a parade of carbon dioxide fumes and a shout went up followed by a burst of laughter as a group of lads left the White Swan pub further up the street. They were starting early, Veronica thought, wondering if it was a stag do. It was as they approached the crossing she saw him.
Suit-man! He was loping down the street towards them like a man who had somewhere to be. A laptop case hung from his shoulder. His hair looked slightly dishevelled as though he’d had a stressful day and had been running his fingers through it. His suit today was tan and lightweight as befitted the summery day they’d had and she watched like some sort of voyeur as the fabric moved with his body. Her pulse had quickened and there was a jitteriness in her stomach. She wondered if he was a lawyer or perhaps in finance? He must do something along professional lines dressing the way he did.
She willed him to look her way wondering if he’d recognise her out of uniform and with her new hair colour and then berated herself for checking out another woman’s man. It was the sort of behaviour that lumped her in with Greta the Gremlin whom Jason had left her for and she was not that sort of a woman. Nope, she was a loyal supporter and champion of her fellow females. Despite this mental warfare she couldn’t drag her eyes away from him and she gave a tiny gasp as he faltered mid-stride his eyes widening as he clocked her. He clearly recognised her, she thought, unsure what she should do. Was a wave overstepping the mark?
As it happened, she didn’t get a chance to debate her next move further because Saskia swept her out on to the crossing. She glanced back over her shoulder. He was still looking her way and he lifted his hand in acknowledgement. She smiled back stumbling over the kerb.
‘Look where you’re going, Ronnie, you haven’t even had a wine yet.’ Saskia giggled, oblivious to the drama that had played out, then in a random change of subject, ‘Did you know Botox can be used to treat excessive sweating?’
Veronica barely registered what she was saying. Had he seen her stagger? Her cheeks were hot. She was such a fool. She flapped her hand in front of her face to cool it down trying to focus on what Saskia was saying as she pushed open the heavy glass, doors to Harry’s Wine Bar.
‘This patient who came in today had the worst case of BO I’ve ever encountered. It stunk the whole surgery out. Honestly, Ronnie, it was worse than Nigel Price’s. Remember him? He sat next to you when we were in Mr Humphrey with the comb-over’s home room.’ She’d raised her voice above the din of voices.
The words washed over Veronica as she nodded in the appropriate places while they weaved their way up to the bar.
‘Jeez, Ronnie, you’re too young for the hot flushes, aren’t you?’ Saskia asked, checking out her friend’s red face as she squeezed in alongside a high-top stool on which sat a woman with her back to her. She swiped a drinks menu off the bar top. The hum of patrons crowded around tall tables enjoying a post-work tipple was like the steady drone of bees.
‘Far too young,’ Ronnie affirmed, not offering up an explanation. Saskia grinned, scanning the menu. Ronnie took in their surrounds. She’d only been here once before and that was for an afterwork drink when Lara, Heidi’s predecessor, had put a tab on the bar for her leaving do. She’d liked Lara, she was one of those people who always made you feel she was pleased to see you. Unlike Heidi. A barman was handing change to a dark-haired girl in a short dress who looked like she’d only just become legal. Ronnie watched her sway out the doors to the courtyard and as she pushed it open to join her friends a whiff of cigarette smoke floated inside.
‘A New Zealand Sauvignon? Saskia asked, before whispering conspiratorially, ‘It’s cheaper to buy it by the bottle.’
She could always Uber home and Abi could drop her to work in the morning. ‘Lovely.’
‘My treat,’ Saskia said, ignoring her protestations. She beckoned the barman over and told him what they were after. He leaned over the bar to hear her better and Veronica did a quick appraisal. His hair was groomed back from his face, his beard short and neatly clipped. He had the sort of put-together but not too Metro Man, look she hoped her boys would gravitate towards as they got older. No matter she’d once sported dreadlocks, albeit briefly in her late teens, because double standards were part and parcel of parenting. Neither son would ever know about the tattoo decorating a small corner of her left buttock cheek either. It was of two dainty ballet slippers. She’d been drunk and sad when she’d gotten it. She tried not to dwell on what it would look like when her bum sagged.
Veronica watched as the bartender retrieved a bottle of wine from the refrigerator. Behind him was an expanse of brick wall, running the length of the bar, upon which there were two shelves with an array of red wine bottles lined up on each of them, presumably in some sort of order. Two men who looked to be around her and Saskia’s ages wearing shirts and jeans were propping up the bar.
The random thought they looked rather like Laurel and Hardy popped into her head and she wondered if it had been casual Friday at work. The realisation that the portly one of the two was grinning at her gave her a jolt. He raised his glass in her direction and she quickly looked away. She wouldn’t even know how to take part in flirty banter with strange men these days. It was hard to believe she’d once strutted about the handful of pubs, and single nightclub on offer in St Rebus with cocky, self-assurance. Now she almost felt like an interloper as if somebody was about to tap her on the shoulder and say, ‘What are you doing here? You don’t belong.’ ‘I’ll find a table. I think there’s one over by the doors to the courtyard,’ she said to her friend, reaching past her to take the two glasses on the bar top with her.
She settled herself onto a stool, studiously avoiding glancing over at the bar lest Laurel and his pal over there get any ideas. Instead, she watched as a plate with a mini burger and onion rings made its way out of the swing doors leading to the kitchen and was carried past her twitching nose by a girl in leggings that left nothing to the imagination and a white T-shirt. She didn’t have to look to know that Laurel and Hardy would have dislocated their necks as she passed them by. She imagined how she’d feel if that girl were Bel and knew she’d want to punch them in the nose given they were old enough to be her father.
The onion smell made her mouth water. Oh yes, she could definitely see herself snaffling an order of that down later. The food was deposited without ceremony on a table where a couple who should still be in their honeymoon period given their youthful appearances were sitting opposite each other. They barely acknowledged its arrival, too busy scrolling down their phones. Sign of the times that was, Veronica thought, sighing and finding it sad.
‘Right then,’ Saskia said, putting a bottle of frosty wine down on the table and hopping up on to the seat opposite Veronica. ‘What’s been happening?’
‘You go first. How are things with Dave?’
Saskia’s face was like a light bulb switching on at the mention of her new beau’s name. ‘Good. Amazingly good. Sometimes I have to pinch myself, that kind of good.’ She poured them each a generous glass. ‘He’s great with Florence too. She adores him.’ Florence was Saskia’s daughter from her relationship with Joe. They’d been together sixteen years before deciding to call it quits. It had come as a bolt from the blue for Ronnie, who’d loved her friend’s partner like a brother but given she’d known Saskia forever she knew where her loyalties were going to have to lie. The four of them, she and Jason, Saskia and Joe had had some great times together and Jason had kept in touch with Joe. What had upset her the most when Saskia had given her the breakup news was she’d had no idea her friend had been unhappy in her relationship.
It was strange how you could be the best of friends with someone and not know what was going on in their life behind closed doors. No one was at fault, Saskia had told her, they’d grown apart. It happened. The whole street knew what had gone on with her and Jason by the time she’d finished shouting at him. Her mum had taken the boys to a film and as soon as it was just her and him, she’d let fly. As for Saskia and Joe, there was no messy separation agreement and pending divorce if either of them could be bothered. They’d never married and so he’d moved quietly away to Essex which was close enough for him to take Florence every other weekend but far enough for him to start his life afresh. Sometimes she wished Jason had moved away from St Rebus too. His business was here though so it had never been on the cards. It was selfish to think like that anyway. The boys needed to know he was close by, even if he wasn’t always available.
‘There’s a spark there,’ Saskia said, sipping her wine and looking coy. ‘Okay, that’s an understatement because it’s bigger than a spark it’s a flipping forest fire.’
‘What, is that your way of saying the sex is good? Or do you have arsonist tendencies?’
‘We’re not sixteen anymore so I’ll spare you the details but it’s fanfuckingtastic, excuse my language.’ Saskia laughed.
Veronica couldn’t remember the last time she’d had the sort of intimacy that could be described with the same enthusiasm as Saskia just had. Any sort of intimacy come to that. No wonder she had such an inner glow about her. ‘Do you love him?’ she blurted out. This mattered to her when it came to sex because after Bel, she’d gone a little mad. She’d bonked her way around town and with the benefit of hindsight now she could see all she’d wanted was someone who’d love her and look after her. Someone who’d stop the freefall she was in and make the pain go away because without the ballet, Gabe and Bel she didn’t know who she was anymore. Then Jason had moved into town and the ground had steadied beneath her feet.
‘I don’t know about love,’ Saskia said before grinning wantonly. ‘I definitely lust him. Ask me how I feel in a month. We’ve booked a week all-inclusive in Sardinia for the end of the month and his kids are coming too. Flo hasn’t met them yet.’
‘A boy and a girl, right? Teenagers.’
‘Yup, Toby and Alyssa. Toby’s sixteen and Alyssa’s a year older than Flo. She’s the same age as Haydn and Hunter. The twins might know her, she goes to their school. We’re all going out for lunch tomorrow and then to see a film so they’re not complete strangers.’ For a woman who marched through life full of confidence she looked suddenly vulnerable. ‘I’ve my fingers crossed they get on but who knows with kids.’
‘They’ll be fine,’ Veronica reassured her automatically.
Saskia sipped her drink. ‘That’s delicious.’
‘You picked well.’
‘Do you remember when life was simple and men came without baggage?’
‘No, mine’s always been complicated.’
‘That was a sigh from the bottom of those stilettos. I have shoe envy by the way,’ Saskia said, gesturing at Veronica’s hot pink heels.
Veronica mustered up a smile, her legs were crossed and as she waggled her foot the shoe on top nearly fell off her foot. ‘These old things? I’ve had them forever. But thank you.’
‘So, what’s up?’
‘Jason dropped the boys home the other night after football practice and I think he was trying to sidle his way back in to bed.’
Saskia nearly spat her wine. ‘Don’t even think about it. You’ll have me to answer to if you do.’ She patted her mouth with a napkin. ‘I like Jason, you know that, but he is not to be trusted. He hurt you once and he’ll do it again.’
‘I didn’t plan on letting him.’
‘Good, and while we’re on the topic of men there’s another reason I wanted to catch up tonight. Dave’s got this old uni mate, Luis, he’s absolutely perfect for you.’
Veronica held up her hand in a stop signal. ‘No, not interested. I’ve told you that.’
‘Hear me out.’
Veronica rolled her eyes and tapped the side of her glass with her nails which were a pretty shade of green in honour of tonight’s outing. Abi had painted them for her, choosing the colour from one of the many gel polishes she hadn’t been able to leave home without.
‘I’ve only met him once but—’
‘Well that fills me with confidence.’
Saskia ignored her and steamrolled ahead. ‘He’s the same age as Dave, forty-six. He’s good-looking and jogs to keep fit.’ She grinned adding, ‘He has his own teeth and hair and no sign of a beer belly.’
‘A definite catch then but your idea of good looking and mine are different. We have very different tastes.’ Saskia was all about the brawn; she liked Hugh Jackman when he was all beefed up or Channing Tatum in Magic Mike while Veronica was a sensitive, brooding Johnny Depp type of woman, or at a stretch, she’d settle for Brad Pitt and at a pinch the chap who’d played a bodyguard to the PM on a TV drama she’d been glued to recently. Ooh the way he’d said ‘yes, ma’am’ still gave her goosebumps.
‘He’s definitely your type. Um, what else? He’s divorced with no kids, which believe me has got to be a bonus in the world of middle-aged, second time around dating, and he’s an interior architect. Which means, he’s creative but no starving artist which isn’t so attractive to us middle-aged ladies and by all accounts he earns truckloads of money. Perfect, see?’
‘Too perfect, and as such he’ll totally be up for taking a woman out who has twin boys fuelled by hormones and testosterone, and an ex-husband also fuelled by hormones and testosterone who shows up as and when he feels like it. Oh, and I nearly forgot, a thirty-seven-year-old sister who thinks she’s a rock chick even though her boyfriend isn’t in point of fact a muso; he works in the industry granted, but he’s no Liam Gallagher, currently living with her.’
‘You really are showing your age with the Liam references, and Abi’s back? Since when?’
‘Since Tuesday night. She says Brandon is being ‘mean’,’ she made inverted commas with her fingers, ‘her words exactly, and she’s not going home until he apologises which so far, he hasn’t. She’s totally taken over the front room, Saskia. I may go up to London this weekend and drag him down to St Rebus by the ear myself to do some grovelling. Look.’ She held out her arm showing the patch of eczema that had flared up since her sister’s arrival. ‘That’s down to her that is.’
Saskia laughed. ‘Oh dear, and you know better than to scratch it. Have you got something to put on it?’
‘Yes, I’ve been putting aqueous cream on by the truckload. It’s better than it was.’
‘I’ll have to pop over and say hi to her.’
‘You’ve got a spare room,’ Veronica said teasingly.
‘No, I haven’t. It’s an office and I love Abi she’s like the baby sister I never had but I couldn’t handle her chaos or drama.’ She shook her head emphatically to prove her point.
‘Neither can I and you wouldn’t love her if it had been your stuff she was forever nicking when we were younger. Come to that she’s still at it. I found the Coco Mademoiselle shower creme I had in the bathroom cupboard for special occasions in the shower this morning. Half of its gone.’
‘Special occasions like a date with Luis? Which is why a distraction in the form of a childless, interior architect who jogs would do you good. Say you’ll think about it at least?’
‘I’ll think about it,’ Veronica said, having no intention of doing so. She topped up their glasses. ‘Shall we order a snack? I saw a mini-burger and onion rings go by earlier that smelt divine.’
‘Yum, go on.’ Saskia reached for her purse.
‘I’ll get these,’ Veronica said. She might be finding it hard to make ends meet but she’d still pay her own way, she thought, sliding off the stool. ‘Back in a sec.’
She visited the bathroom giving herself the once-over. She still started each time she glimpsed herself. It would take a moment to register who this woman with the blue hair was. She tucked it behind her ears, reapplied her lipstick and did the mandatory skirt tucked in knickers, loo roll attached to heel of shoe checks before exiting to place her food order.
She’d swiped her card and was waiting for the bartender to give her the receipt, aware she was a smidge tipsy as she fought temptation to ask for future reference who his barber was. ‘Thank you,’ she said, eager to make her getaway before the words popped out of her mouth. She stuffed the receipt in her purse and, picking up the stand with their order number on it, was about to make her way back to Saskia when her gaze strayed down the bar to where Laurel and Hardy were still planted. Laurel’s eyes lit up at the sight of her and he mouthed, ‘love the hair’. He followed this with a wink and to make sure she got the gist of what he was saying he touched his own thinning top.
Oh, dear God, Veronica thought, too polite not to give him a weak smile before hotfooting it across the crowded floor to her friend.
‘If he offers to buy us a drink or asks if we come here often, we are leaving,’ Veronica said to Saskia who was snorting into her wine at what had transpired at the bar.
‘Oh my God, Ronnie, life’s never dull with you around.’ Saskia grew serious. ‘How’s Margo doing? Do you and the boys still go and see her every Thursday?’
Veronica nodded. ‘She’s as good as can be expected. She’s plateaued in the illness so there haven’t been any big changes in her behaviour which is good so, we’ll coast along with that until the next dip and yeah, we do. We were there yesterday.’ Credit where it was due. ‘The boys are great with her.’ Seeing Haydn and Hunter demonstrate such patience and kindness toward their nana each Thursday reassured her she must be doing something right with them. ‘Mum loves them, she always smiles when she sees them.’
Saskia smiled. ‘That’s gorgeous. They’re lovely lads your two. How’s Abi handling seeing her?’
‘She’s been to Holly Grange every day which is something. She doesn’t stay long but at least she’s going. It’s good for her because she needs to accept the situation. She can’t change it and neither can I, hard as that is to take on board.’ Veronica shrugged. ‘I’ve started to talk to Mum about Gabe when I go on my own of a Saturday. I took in my first ever leotard last week and she held onto that while I chatted.’
Saskia reached across the table and put her hand on top of her friends. ‘Good, I’m glad. It’s something you need to do Ronnie.’
Tears prickled and Veronica blinked them back. Saskia was a good friend, the best kind, even though she’d virtually ignored her when she was with Gabe. Between him and ballet practice there’d not been time for anything else. Saskia had been there for her though when she’d needed her. The arrival of their snacks moved them on from the potentially heavy conversation and they both tucked in with relish.
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THE BIRDS WERE SETTLING down for the evening lining up along the power lines and having a final natter by the time they left Harry’s to await their Uber rides home. They exchanged promises to do it again soon and not to leave it so long next time before Saskia’s proclamation, ‘It was a brilliant evening.’ She planted a wine-breath kiss on her friend’s cheek. ‘And we got chatted up. We’ve still got it you know, babe.’
Veronica laughed. Laurel and Hardy had indeed swaggered over. Veronica had an entire onion ring in her gob at the time and had been making mmming noises as to its deliciousness. Saskia had a blob of aioli stuck in the corner of her mouth but they’d been undeterred. Veronica had never been the sort to tell anyone who had the gumption to come up and talk to her to go away or to take the mickey out of them if they were respectful about it. Unlike some of their friends who’d delighted in doing so when they were younger. She thought it was arrogant and to steal her sister’s favourite phrase ‘mean’ behaviour. She’d been unable to stop laughing though at what Saskia piped up with when Laurel had leaned toward her placing a pudgy hand on her thigh to steady himself and through wet lips said, ‘I can’t stop staring at you. It’s the hair, you remind me of someone.’
‘Marg Simpson perhaps? Because you’ve definitely got a look of Homer about you.’