Sarah went looking for Kelly when she dropped Sissy off at Whispering Sands the next morning. Even though her head felt like a tombola after their party, she had to find out if there was any more news about the facility’s funding.
After she and Robin saw Ms Bunny, they had looked for more options. But most were old age homes, leaving just a handful that specialised in Down’s syndrome and other learning disabilities. It was seriously depressing.
They hadn’t known how lucky they were to find Whispering Sands.
She caught a flash of sleek black ponytail as she rounded the corner towards the nurses’ desk. ‘Hi Kelly.’
‘Sarah, hello.’ She looked both ways. ‘Have you got a minute?’
Sarah’s tummy churned, wondering if this was going to be another outside conversation.
Kelly grabbed her coat and led her to the courtyard.
Bad news then.
‘I’m sorry,’ she said. ‘There’s to be one final meeting, but it looks like the facility is closing down. The staff have all been told to expect it.’
‘Oh bollocks!’ What about all the nice people who looked after their loved ones? How would they find jobs? They might have to leave the area even though they had family and friends there. Some were in their fifties and sixties. They might never find work again. ‘Are you going to be okay?’
She nodded. ‘I imagine so. I’ve been looking around. Listen. We’re not supposed to be telling the clients or their families so please don’t mention it to anyone. We’re still hoping for a miracle donor to fund us but if that doesn’t happen … they’ve told us they can’t guarantee our pay beyond the end of next month. Have you had any luck with other facilities?’
‘We looked at a few but they weren’t right for Sissy.’
Kelly nodded. She understood. ‘Keep looking.’
Two of the lilac-clad staff came into the courtyard to smoke, glancing curiously in Kelly’s direction.
‘EastEnders, you say?’ Sarah said loudly. ‘Thanks for telling me. I’ll ask Sissy about it.’
As they went back inside, Sarah asked the question that had been nagging her. ‘Kelly, do you think she should live with me?’
‘That’s a big decision that only you can make,’ Kelly said. ‘What I will say is that since she’s finished school her opportunities to socialise are narrower than they were, and this is where the other residents are a real benefit. I know you work from home and she’d love to spend all her time with you, but she’s got a social life here, and structured activities. She does enjoy being around a lot of people.’
Sarah smiled, thinking about the party last night. Sissy knew more of the guests by the end than Sarah did. ‘I know she loves being here, but what about the next home?’
‘Keep looking,’ Kelly said again.
She got James’s text just as she was getting on the train back to London. Her heart sped as she read it.
It was great to see you last night and I’m going to make you keep your promise! How are you fixed next week? James xo
Great to see you too. Hope you don’t feel too rough today. I’m free most days. Sarah x
Tuesday? Xo
It’s a date. Sarah x
She could still hardly believe it. He was as fun and nice as she remembered and she could easily have talked to him all night if they weren’t at her party. Which, by the way, she’d known all along was for her. She wasn’t that dim – Catherine was hardly going to throw a baby shower for Magda, was she?
This was a mad, mad, probably very bad idea, but she’d said yes. Yes, yes, yes. It was her mantra now.
She giggled to herself. Look at her! A text from one guy and going to meet another later. That would never have happened before RecycLove.
It had seemed like a grand idea when Jeremy suggested dinner and dancing the night after the party. And it would have been if Sarah hadn’t felt like she was walking through treacle. She popped two more paracetamol and checked her reflection. There were definitely dark circles under her eyes. Hopefully the bright red lipstick balanced things out.
She glanced at the clock on her bedside table. She felt guilty but she didn’t really have time for Sissy’s nightly call. It would have to be fast to get to the restaurant on time.
She clenched the ringing phone between her cheek and shoulder as she flipped off her heels and dug around in the closet for a different pair.
‘Hi Sissy, it’s me. How’s your day been?’ As her sister answered, she made herself sit on the bed to listen. Sissy deserved her full attention and, besides, Jeremy didn’t care if she was five minutes late. His whole life seemed to be twenty-four-hour non-stop action.
Sarah thought he was joking when he said their reservation was for ten p.m. She was usually in her pyjamas by then. But must not be boring, she reminded herself. Normal people did go out that late.
She’d forgo her slippers to be a normal person. If she did it long enough it might even be true.
‘Sarah!’ Jeremy called from behind her just as she pushed through the doors at The Wolseley. ‘Sorry, I wanted to get here before you. Damn Tube.’ He kissed her cheeks and gave his name to the maître d’, who took their coats and showed them to a booth at the side of the room.
‘You look nice,’ he said as they sat.
‘Thanks. So do you.’ He wore a collared black shirt with his slim jeans. He was getting Eurotrashier with each date but she didn’t really mind as long as he didn’t start wearing a white silk scarf round his neck or tucking his sunglasses into the top of his shirt.
‘I have a question,’ she said as they looked over their menus. ‘What’s your favourite body part?’
Jeremy looked confused.
‘I mean your own favourite body part, not mine!’ Talk about fishing for compliments with a trawler’s net.
‘I’ll say this much, Sarah, you always have interesting questions. I’m still deciding which live insects I’d want to eat on a desert island, from when you asked me last time.’ He laughed. ‘The answer is ants, I think, as long as they’re not too big. And I guess my legs are okay.’
Sarah nodded, approving of both his answers. ‘And which part do you hate? Bear with me, there is a point here.’
While she was in the shower getting ready, between shampooing and conditioning, just as she was loofah-ing her elbows, she’d come up with the best card idea. The. Best. Idea. She had to tell someone.
‘That’s easy,’ he said. ‘I hate my nose. My nostrils are too big.’
She tried not to look up his nostrils which, as he’d mentioned it, were sizeable. ‘I do think they suit your nose, though, and your nose suits your face. So what if your wife-to-be gave you a wedding card saying how much she loved your nose? Wouldn’t that make you feel good to know that she loves even that? I’m thinking about pitching a body parts wedding card line at work. If someone loves the part of you that you’re most sensitive about then they must really, really love you, don’t you think?’
Sarah fantasised about that man, the one who found all of her quirks endearing. He’d let her know in every possible way that he thought she was perfect, and he’d love to bake as much as she did. Her Prince Charming in a pavlova.
Jeremy didn’t look too sure about her idea, but then he wasn’t in the wedding card business. He sold computer storage solutions so she forgave his lack of whimsy. Besides, he made a perfectly lovely dinner date.
‘So we’ve got two options for clubs tonight,’ he said later as he poured the last of the wine into Sarah’s glass. ‘There’s a DJ I like at Groove Train and a house club night at Ministry. Groove Train’s a lot smaller and Ministry is a superclub, so it depends on what you want to do?’
She really just wanted to lie down and have a long sleep. But then she remembered her new mantra. ‘The superclub, I guess?’
It was past midnight by the time they got into Ministry of Sound but between the wine and the thumping house music Sarah found herself spinning with the energy inside. And Jeremy was right, the club was super. The enormous room heaved with dancing bodies everywhere. Jeremy bought them drinks and they joined the throng.
She watched the women around her. Most of them undulated like strippers or ground their arses into the men dancing behind them. She copied a few of the less X-rated moves and hoped she didn’t look like she needed seizure medication.
Jeremy’s hands stroked her hips and sides as they danced. She was getting hot and not just because it was about a hundred degrees. Though these days she got turned on by her washing machine’s spin cycle.
He shouted something in her ear as he leaned close. It sounded like ‘You’re so shit, Sarah’, but that would be weird to say to a date, so she assumed he’d said fit.
‘So are you!’ she shouted back, just in case he had just insulted her.
He stared into her eyes in that way. He’d definitely said fit. ‘Do you want to sit down?’
No sooner had they found a spot on one of the velvet sofas off to the side when he launched himself on her.
Hold on there, Neil Armstrong, she wanted to say. Before you take us into orbit, I’m not that kind of girl.
Only she found herself quite enjoying his kissing. And his hands. She definitely enjoyed his hands as they roamed up her legs.
So maybe she was that kind of girl. Maybe, for the first time in years, that was exactly the kind of girl she was.
* * *
On Tuesday, just as she was locking up her bike behind their office, she caught Maria-Therese and Harry getting out of his car. She wouldn’t have thought much about it if he hadn’t stared at her in such horror.
She got the feeling he and Maria-Therese weren’t just carpooling.
At least that explained Maria-Therese’s devotion to their boss. She wasn’t getting a leg up on the corporate ladder so much as getting a leg over on Harry.
By the time they all sat round the conference room table for the weekly brainstorm meeting, Harry had recovered some composure. But he turned fuchsia every time he glanced her way. Did he think she was going to grass him up?
Maybe she would have before, but not now. Instead of the revulsion she should feel at the thought of those two naked together, she found herself smiling. If Harry’s big arse made Maria-Therese weak in the knees and her ferrety face and caustic tongue gave him the horn, then so be it. Everyone deserved to be happy.
‘Even girls with fat knees,’ she explained to the table, gesturing to her drawing. Though looking at the woman on the sketch pad, the poor thing looked more like she was suffering from gout. Sarah had been awfully hung-over when she drew it.
‘A line of cards pointing out people’s flaws?’ Maria-Therese said. ‘Who’d want those?’
‘But it’s not mean-spirited,’ Sarah said. ‘It’s to show that nobody’s perfect and that the right person will love you anyway.’
Maria-Therese sneered. ‘What other … shortcomings do you propose to illustrate, Sarah?’
Giggles erupted around the table.
She wasn’t about to humour them. ‘We could have cards for all the things people usually dislike about themselves. Maybe they think they’re too short or tall or fat or skinny or they don’t like their thin lips or big feet or small …’ Do not say willy. Do Not Say Willy. Or boobs. Definitely not boobs. Though she could sketch a couple of egg cups with something about a gentleman’s handful … She’d save that one for next time. ‘Small teeth,’ she finished. ‘I don’t know. I just think it’s a nice sentiment, don’t you?’
The others nodded along with Harry. ‘It is a nice sentiment,’ he said. ‘I’m just not sure it’s commercial enough.’
‘You always say that.’ She slammed shut her sketch pad. ‘That’s it for my ideas this week.’
‘Thank you, Sarah,’ said Harry. ‘Other ideas?’
The meeting moved on and, as usual, Sarah was the butt of the joke. She packed her pens and pads away, trying not to feel so bad.