Effie had found her way home like an automaton, oblivious to her surroundings, her mind in a turmoil. In the house she dropped her bags and jacket on the floor, making straight for the fridge to open a bottle of her favourite chardonnay. She sank back on the couch and audibly breathed out. Well, at least she wasn’t going to die, although that moment when she had stepped into the waiting room had brought her close to understanding the meaning of the phrase about ‘dying of shame’. Utterly mortifying. So now she knew what was the matter there remained the vexing question of what to do next which was linked to the other question of how the hell this had happened to her and who was responsible?
Assisted by a glass or two of the Chardonnay, she did a pretty good job on working herself up into a lather of indignation at the very idea of having a sexually transmitted disease, she, a senior lady with a far from adventurous record sexually. Admittedly a bit wild in her youth, but having spent over twenty years faithfully in a marriage that had ended badly and never having had any problems physically in that department, and she couldn’t even blame Jack, who until his moment of betrayal when he walked off with her best friend had been a nice clean boy. Here the thought of Jack and Helen together stirred a vengeful image in her febrile imagination of the two of them spatchcocked on a bed displaying hideously infected genitalia with supturating sores. She hated them, she hated her situation and she felt thoroughly sorry for herself. The disease had not come from Jack, nor from her: no, the obvious culprit was Kenneth.
Having satisfactorily come to this conclusion Effie felt a little better, topped up her glass and went to phone Susie who was suitably sympathetic even impressed.
‘My god, Effie, I wonder if you could get in the Guiness Book of Records as the oldest person to catch an STD?’
‘You may laugh, Susie, but I’ve got to tackle this with Kenneth. Any suggestions welcome.’
The conclusion of a further half hour on this topic was that the subject would best be broached at the start of their next meeting on the coming Friday rather than over the phone and that Effie should do her best not to make it sound like an accusation.
‘Approach it gently’ Susie advised.
‘But I don’t feel gentle. I feel bloody furious.’
In fact the conversation with Susie succeeded in calming Effie sufficiently so that she could pay some attention to soothing her suffering body. A long hot bath followed, then a shower with plenty of soaping and rinsing, not to mention finishing off the bottle on an empty stomach. Next was a clinical inspection of the offending area - she had to see – in the spirit of science, to make sure she didn’t look like one of those frightful pictures. She took her mother’s silver hand mirror and crouched down trying to angle it so that she could see, but it was awkward, everything in shadow, everything felt wobbly. The final indignity, as she shifted uneasily to get more light on the subject was to topple right over and end the day flat on the bathroom floor like a splayed cat.
She had no memory of how she got into bed but woke early the next morning with a headache and the tail end of a dream in which wild creatures, all spotted and striped in garish colours, romped around a jungle landscape which metamorphosed into her childhood house. A couple of cups of coffee and toast and honey improved the headache and put Effie in a better frame of mind. It was a work day and she was grateful to be able to focus on other things. The prospect of some light-hearted chat with the girls in the office appealed and in the evening she would drop in on Cathy. The family had just returned from a camping holiday in France and Effie looked forward to seeing them after two weeks away.
It was another warm evening with late summer flowers blooming in front gardens as Effie walked from the bus stop towards Cathy’s house. The sight and scent of them succeeded in driving away the last of her heady feeling and she was in better spirits as she opened their garden gate. She had had a quick conversation with Kenneth, who sounded in a hurry, about what they were going to do on Friday - go to a pub by the river if the weather held - and had said nothing about the clinic visit as she and Susie had agreed.
When she pressed the doorbell she could hear two sets of feet come running and the familiar girlish chatter as Daisy and Rosie opened the door. They greeted their grandmother noisily, hugging and pulling her in, chatting excitedly about their holiday. They looked tanned and healthy, their hair was lighter and Effie was sure they were taller.
‘So you obviously had a good time’ she laughed’ and looks like you had good weather, you’re so brown. Just look at you.’
‘I can speak French’ boasted Daisy ‘I can say ‘bonjour’ and ‘come on ali view’ which means ‘hello and how are you’’ she trilled.
‘And I know that ‘sank’ means my age and it also means a boat got lost in the sea’ said Rosie, not to be outdone.
Cathy’s voice came from the kitchen:
‘Hi, Mum, come on in the kitchen. Kids, tea’s ready.’
She was standing with her back to the door dishing up a pan of peas and carrots so that Effie caught sight first of her daughter’s rear view, a bit heavier she thought. The old jeans Cathy was wearing were stretched tightly across her backside and an ancient t-shirt flopped off her shoulder. Her hair was strewn around her face, half screwed up in a clip. Effie resisted the temptation to pull her comb out of her bag and offer it to her daughter.
Instead she said: ‘You look great, darling, and the girls - they look so well. You obviously had a nice time.’
Cathy clattered the pan in the sink, turning the tap on full-force so that hot water splattered around. Sausages were spitting under the grill.
‘Come and sit down, you two’ she called to the girls. ‘Now let’s not have any fuss tonight. Just tell grandma all the super things we did and, Daisy, please eat your carrots.’
Daisy screwed up her face in protest and Effie sat next to her, anxious to prevent her granddaughter from provoking an argument.
‘Come on, girls, you can talk to me while you eat. I want to hear what you ate in France. Did you have lots of pastries. I love them.’
The girls finally settled and with mouths full of sausage and peas chattered on about their time away. Effie joined in with enthusiasm but Cathy was noticeably quiet, occupying herself with clearing up. After a while Effie got up.
‘Come on, Cathy, leave that. I’ll do it in a minute. Let me make a cup of tea and you come and sit down. It’s so lovely to see you all again. I missed you. Two weeks is a long time to be away.’
‘A bit too long if you ask me’ was Cathy’s glum response.
‘Oh, why? What happened?’
‘Nothing ‘happened’, Mum, but it was just a bit too long to be with the Williams and two demanding children and Jim. He didn’t help half the time. I can see why the divorce rate goes up in the autumn. Anyway, I think the children enjoyed it. They got on with the other kids most of the time,but the little William’s girl: god, was she a little princess. She couldn’t do anything wrong in her parents’ eyes and she moaned half the time. Wouldn’t share and screamed when she didn’t get her own way. Then of course Daisy and Rosie started complaining that it wasn’t fair to them, so, yup, I think I had just about enough of children by the end of two weeks.
She stirred her tea forcefully.
‘Well, I’m certainly glad to see you, and you do all look well.’
‘I do? I wish you’d tell that to my husband. Jim was crass enough to comment on my eating too many pain au chocolat in front of Val who, of course, is skinny as a rake and she just said something stupid about being lucky that she didn’t put on weight, which I don’t believe anyway. I think she just starves herself secretly and then eats like a pig. Might even be bulimic.’
‘Cathy, come on. You’re looking great. Really.’
Cathy pushed away the biscuit tin as Rosie stretched out her hand.
‘No, Rosie, you may not have a biscuit. You haven’t eaten your carrots.’
‘But you’ve had two!’ Rosie protested.
‘Carrots first!’
Cathy turned to her mother ‘thing is, Mum, you would say I look nice. You’re my mother. I need to hear it from my husband occasionally.’
This comment was the cue to the sound of a key turning in the lock and all four females turned their eyes in his direction as Jim entered the kitchen.
‘Hi everyone. Hello Effie, you’re looking good. Great to see you. So what’s been going on since we were away?’
‘Oh, not much. But I want to hear about you. I was saying to Cathy how well you all look’ said Effie, praying that he’d say something complimentary about Cathy.
‘Oh sure, the kids look great, don’t they? I think they had a good time despite having to live alongside a bit of a spoiled brat of a child. We didn’t realise just how tiresome the William’s daughter could be. Odd really when you think you know people. I mean the parents are decent and good fun but they’ve no idea about discipline, how to manage a group of children. The older boy was OK though, wasn’t he, girls?’
Rosie, who had finally swallowed two small bits of carrot, perked up.
‘Daisy likes Johnie’ sang Rosie in a high pitched voice. ‘She thinks he’s funny ‘cos he’s got a funny willie, ‘cos he showed us his willie when he peed.’
‘For goodness sake, Rosie’ Cathy spoke firmly’ and Daisy, do not kick your sister.’
Rosie began crying and rubbing her leg.
‘Well, Rosie, if you insist on saying stupid things’
Which made her cry even more and the kitchen was filled with discordant sounds until harmony was finally restored by Effie producing two chocolate mice from her bag, a treat that seldom failed with her two granddaughters. Rosie still sniffed periodically but was soon munching away on the mouse while Jim held her on his knee, rubbing the injured leg.
‘So what do you say to grandma? And haven’t we got something from France for her? Daisy, go and fetch the bag with the picture of a vineyard on it. See if you can carry it, it’s quite heavy.’
Daisy staggered back with the said bag which contained four bottles of chateaux wine which Effie received with unfeigned delight. With peace restored and checking her watch, Effie suggested it was opening time and they might as well get on and sample her present right then and there. Which they did. Cathy mellowed a little as she sipped the rich red burgundy and the whole family relaxed. Daisy disappeared briefly and returned with a postcard picturing the village where they had stayed on holiday.
‘Well done for remembering, darling. Yes, sorry, Mum, we didn’t get round to posting any cards but the girls chose this one for you.’
‘I wanted to give it to you yesterday when we saw you but I didn’t have it with me’ said Daisy as she handed over the card.
‘Saw me?’
‘Yea, we saw you, didn’t we Daddy?’
Jim flashed one of his engaging smiles. ‘Yes, we saw you outside the hospital. We were coming back from the library..You looked like you were in a hurry.’
Effie swallowed a mouthful of wine before replying, half-registering that it didn’t taste as good as it had a few seconds ago.
‘Oh yes, I was visiting a friend. She had to stay in overnight.’
‘Not your Susie I hope’ said Cathy as she topped up the glasses round her. ‘I’ve always thought Susie was a candidate for health problems one of these days.’
‘No it wasn’t Susie and I don’t know what you mean by health problems, Cathy?’
‘Ok, OK... I just meant she looks thin, so thin that she might snap in two one day.’
Aware that she was feeling both defensive and bothered by the turn of the conversation Effie decided on a timely exit and rose to leave.
‘Anyway, darlings, time I was off. Marvellous to have you all back, and school must be starting soon? Perhaps I can have the girls for an outing before that happens?’
‘Great idea, Mum, I’ll call.’
‘Here let me help you with the bag, Effie.’ Jim was picking up the wine and making for the door. ` Your car outside?’
Effie’s blue Fiat was parked by the house under a tree and a large dollop of pigeon dropping could be seen to adorn the windscreen. Effie exclaimed in disgust as she edged herself into the driver’s seat.
‘Supposed to be good luck’ Jim chuckled as he wedged the bag of bottles behind the front seat. Effie had started the engine and was pressing the wipers to try and wash off the offending muck but only succeeded in smearing it all over the screen.
‘Hang on, I’ll get some water.’
He returned a few minutes later with bucket and cloth and proceeded to wash the screen, bending across Effie’s open window, wiping vigorously with the cloth so that she noticed the muscles flex on his strong brown arms. Once he was satisfied he bent down to speak through the open window.
‘That’s better.’
He leaned in a bit, looking straight into her eyes and lowering his voice.
‘Effie, you are all right aren’t you? When we saw you at the hospital you did look extremely worried. I mean you would tell us if anything was wrong?’
Effie let out a small gasp and spoke almost without thinking with the strong urge to get away.
‘Well there was a little problem, but it’s fine, quite fine, and please, Jim, for heaven’s sake don’t say anything to Cathy, or the others. I just don’t want Cathy fussing over things. She’s got enough on her plate anyway.’
Jim placed his hand briefly on Effie’s arm, patting it gently.
‘OK, if you’d rather keep it between me and you, so long as you’re sure you’re all right. I’m quite capable of being discreet, as you are, I know.’
He withdrew his hand and leaned in to kiss her on the cheek. Effie sped off as the blood predictably rose to her cheeks and she turned the radio on loud to drown out any possibility of thinking about the unthinkable.