“Tonight’s the night…da da, de-da da.” Lottie sang the song quietly so that no one else could hear as she surveyed her reflection in the dressing table mirror. Her dress was dark red and shimmery, and so was her mouth. Her hair, hanging loose tonight, was a mass of glossy black ringlets, and her eyes were bright. Beneath the dress, her black silk bra and panties were the kind you wore when you very much hoped they’d be seen. Also beneath the dress, her heart was racing like a hamster on a wheel as she reached for the mascara and finished her eyes. In ten minutes Mario and Amber would be arriving to pick up the kids. Nat and Ruby were spending the night at Mario’s…oh yes, this was definitely going to be an evening to remember. Turning sideways in the mirror, Lottie critically surveyed her figure. Hearing the gentle slap-slap of flip-flops on the stairs, she called out, “Ruby? Come and tell me what you think. Does my bum look big in this dress?”
Ruby appeared in the bedroom doorway. “Yes.”
“Excellent.” Lottie patted her shapely backside with satisfaction. If she said so herself, it was one of her finest assets. Then she saw the expression on Ruby’s face. “Rubes? What’s wrong?”
“Nat’s got a stomachache. He’s been sick and now he’s crying.”
“Sick!” Alarmed, Lottie rushed to the door. “Where?”
“Not on the carpet. In the loo. He says his stomach really hurts.”
Together they raced downstairs. Nat was lying on the sofa in the living room clutching his abdomen and whimpering with pain. Lottie knelt beside him and stroked his face. “Oh, sweetheart. When did this start?”
“Not long. I felt ill at teatime, but it’s just gotten bad now.” Nat screwed up his face and gritted his teeth. “Mummy, it hurts so much.”
Lottie was stroking his forehead. Perplexed, she said, “Why are you all wet?”
“I washed my face after I was sick. And I pulled the flush to make it all go away.”
“You washed your face? And remembered to pull the flush?” To see if she could make him smile Lottie said, “It’s like a double miracle!”
But Nat buried his face in her neck and wailed, “Hug me, Mummy. Make me better. Ow, I feel sick again…”
Lottie experienced a horrid feeling of trepidation, one she wasn’t remotely proud of. Nat was ill; he’d always been more prone to stomach upsets than Ruby. She’d nursed him through plenty of vomiting sessions over the years and invariably he recovered by the next day.
But tonight was the night, her night, and she didn’t want this to be happening now. She was all dressed up, her hair done, her legs freshly shaved. Tyler was expecting her at Fox Cottage in less than thirty minutes. Short of tumbling down the stairs and breaking both legs, she hadn’t imagined anything could happen to stop her being there.
Foolishly, she’d forgotten she was a mother.
“I’ve brought the dishwashing bowl,” Ruby announced, “for him to be sick in again if it comes up really fast.”
“Thanks.” As Nat clung to her like a limpet, Lottie sensed that this was how it would feel if your lottery numbers came up the one week you hadn’t bought a ticket. “But it helps if you take the dishes out of it first.”
“Where’s Amber?” Ruby demanded when Mario arrived minutes later.
“Busy. She can’t come over tonight.” Mario eyed Nat and the bowl with trepidation. “What’s going on?”
Nat gave him a piteous look. “I’m really ill.”
Mario visibly recoiled as if Nat might suddenly launch into projectile-vomit mode.
“He might not be sick again,” Lottie said. “He’s just got a tummyache.” In desperation she stroked Nat’s face and said, “Maybe you just need to go to sleep, sweetheart.”
“Noooo.” Nat shook his head and tightened his grip on her.
“Poor Mummy.” Ruby looked sympathetic. “She’s going to miss her important business meeting in Bath.”
“Business meeting?” Mario raised a skeptical eyebrow at the red, tight-fitting, shimmery dress.
“It’s a Tourist Board thing. Meeting first, dinner afterward.” Lottie, who had been rehearsing the lie all day, said defensively, “At the Pump Rooms. Everyone dresses up.”
Not that it mattered anymore. They all knew she wasn’t going anywhere. Unless by some miracle… “Nat, why don’t you let Daddy look after you, hmm? He’d—”
“Nooooooooo.” Throwing himself at her, Nat whimpered, “I’m sick. Don’t go out, Mummy. I want you to stay with me.”
* * *
“You’re going out again?” Ruby looked horrified.
“What do you mean, again?” Busy clearing the breakfast table, Lottie raised her eyebrows in retaliation. “I haven’t been anywhere yet.”
It was the morning after, and Nat had made a suspiciously swift recovery from his stomach upset. Alleged stomach upset. Having already polished off a mountain of Cocoa Krispies at record speed, he had raced upstairs to get ready for school and could now be heard clumping down again, bellowing out the new Avril Lavigne single at the top of his voice.
Ruby, sitting at the table still plowing through her own bowl of Crunchy Nut cornflakes—which always took forever because she refused to sully them with milk—looked at Nat as he burst into the kitchen and said meaningfully, “She’s going out again.”
Nat abruptly stopped singing. “Why?”
“Because you’re going over to your dad’s house for a barbecue and I’ve decided to join an evening class in Cheltenham.” Pouring herself a strong coffee, Lottie said, “That’s allowed, isn’t it?”
“What evening class?”
What indeed? Macramé? Russian for beginners? Knit your own chastity belt?
“Line dancing,” Lottie said firmly.
They gazed at her in disbelief. “What?”
“It’s fun.”
“Where they wear cowboy hats and pointy boots? And all dance in a line?” Nat clapped his hands over his mouth, smothering a giggle. “That’s saaaad.”
“You don’t have to wear a hat and boots.”
“It’s still sad. Mega sad. Only nerdy durr-brains do stuff like that.”
Feeling defensive on behalf of line dancers everywhere—she’d never attempted it herself but it always looked rather jolly—Lottie said, “But I’ll be doing it and I’m not a nerdy durr-brain.” For good measure she added evenly, “Nor’s Arnold Schwarzenegger, and he’s been line dancing for years.”
“That’s a lie!” Outraged, Nat cried out, “He has not!”
“It’s all a lie.” Ruby was scornful. “She isn’t going to any evening class. She’s just saying it so she can meet that man again.”
Nat stared at Lottie. “Is that true?”
Lottie’s heart sank. Why did life have to be so difficult?
“OK, I was going to join the line dancing class.” She spoke swiftly because lying was one thing; being caught lying was quite another. “But I’m meeting Tyler afterward.”
Ruby pushed aside her bowl of Crunchy Nut cornflakes. “See?”
“No.” Nat shook his head. “Mummy, don’t.”
“Nat, it doesn’t make any difference to you. You don’t have to see him. He’s a nice man,” Lottie said helplessly.
His lower lip stuck out. “You mean you like him.”
“Yes, I do.” Lottie put down her coffee. “Sweetheart, it’s just one night out. With a friend.”
“And then another night out, and another, and another,” Ruby chanted. “And he isn’t a friend. He’s a boyfriend.” She spat out the last word as if it was botulism. “Mum, please don’t go out with that man. He hates us.”
“He doesn’t hate you! How can you even think that? OK.” Lottie held up her hands as they both opened their mouths. “We don’t have time for this now. It’s half past eight. We’ll talk about it properly after school.”
“Fine.” Ruby glowered and pushed back her chair as Lottie began searching for the car keys. “That means you’re still going to see him tonight.”
Was there seriously any reason why she shouldn’t? Picking up the half-empty cereal bowl and feeling unfairly criticized, Lottie said, “Yes, I am. And I’m looking forward to it. Now go brush your teeth.”
* * *
The run of spectacular weather came to an abrupt end that afternoon. Charcoal-gray storm clouds rolled in from the west and the first fat drops of rain, as big as pennies, thudded onto the windshield of Lottie’s car as she drove to Oaklea School to pick up Ruby and Nat. Typically, by the time she’d found somewhere to park, the spattering of raindrops had accelerated to a downpour. Even more typically, Lottie hadn’t brought a jacket. Bracing herself for a sprint up the road, she leaped athletically from the car and heard an ominous rrrrriiip as the modest, meant-to-be-there split at the front of her skirt became a decidedly immodest one reaching almost up to her panties.
Oh well, she’d just have to skulk at the back of the playground, signal her presence to Nat and Ruby from a distance, and make a hasty getaway. Clutching the split seams together and discovering this meant she could only totter along like a geisha girl, Lottie gave up and did her best to cover the split with both hands. Now she looked as if she was desperate for a bathroom.
Never mind, nearly there. Damn, why did it always have to rain just as school ended? Glancing down to check she was at least semidecent skirtwise, Lottie sucked in her breath at yet another unwelcome discovery: her white shirt was wet and sticking to her like plastic wrap. Proudly revealing her lacy red bra.