‘Oh, good good. Good, good good.’
I think that may be a little too many ‘goods’. He stares back at me as if I’m doing a Britney Spears, crashing his car with an umbrella, only moments away from shaving my head. Perhaps I should have tried this before I sunk a bottle of wine.
‘So, how long have you guys been together? God, it's been years, hasn’t it? And still.....good.’
‘Yes Poppy,’ he says very slowly, as if speaking to a toddler. ‘It's been twenty years and still going strong.’
‘Fuck!’ I shout, spitting out a bit of my wine. ‘Twenty years?’
‘Yep. We got together when we were fourteen and now we’re thirty four’. He smiles to himself. ‘Time flies when you’re having fun.’
My poor clueless sap of a brother. He has no idea what an evil conniving bitch his wife is.
‘Yeah,’ I nod. ‘And you are still having....fun? You know, date nights and stuff to spice it up?’
His mouth drops open slightly and his eyes boggle out of his head.
‘Are you....’
Oh my God, I’ve said too much. He’s figured it out. He knows she’s having an affair. He’s had his suspicions before tonight and now he’s put it all together like at the end of those murder mysteries.
‘Are you....asking me,’ he lowers his voice to a whisper, ‘about my sex life?’
This time I definitely spit out my wine. It sprays in several directions and manages to get Auntie Beryl on the face. She looks horrified and starts cleaning herself off with a napkin.
‘No! Not sex! Just, you know....date nights and stuff.’
‘Oh Pops,’ he says, resting his hand on my shoulder. ‘I think I know what this is about.’
Finally!
‘Don't beat yourself up. It's not your fault,’ he says kindly, smiling weakly.
Huh?
‘I know it's not my fault?’
‘Stuart just didn’t want to go out with you anymore. It wasn’t because you didn’t do enough date nights or anything like that. He just wanted to invest in himself, do something on his own for once.’
Is this guy for real? He looks at me, his face pained from how apparently pathetic I am to him. I open my mouth to reply, but no sound comes out.
‘Annabel and I make time for ourselves. It's like at the moment, she’s doing this writing course. It's two nights a week, every Tuesday and Thursday and I let her get on with it.’
‘Mmmhmmm,’ I just about manage.
‘I try to get her to read some out to me, but bless her, she’s so shy.’ He smiles fondly.
Writing course, my fucking arse! Those are obviously her booty nights. I know I should feel really sorry for him at the moment but I can't help but want to punch him in the face. How can he be so condescending to me?
‘But don't worry Pops. It will happen for you. One day you’ll be as happy as me and Annabel. I’m...almost sure of it.’
I nod, the skill of speech seeming to have escaped me. I look away from him, desperate for some kind of distraction. Does my own brother honestly think I am this pathetic?
I look over at Mum, desperate for her to behave like a Mum for once. For her to notice just by looking at me that I’m upset. To take me into the front room, put a blanket over me and make me some hot chocolate while I tell her all about it. Instead I notice her and Auntie Beryl swapping insults, swaying from side to side on their chairs. Why can these two never handle their wine? You’d think with twenty years’ experience they’d have it down to a tee.
‘Well, it's like I’ve always said, you can't buy class,’ Mum snorts, eyeing her disapprovingly.
‘And what on earth is that supposed to mean?’ Auntie Beryl slurs. She attempts to smooth her hair back, only making it stand more on end.
‘It means that you’ve got no class,’ Mum retorts.
‘Mum!’ I shout.
‘Oh, back out Poppy. This is between me and her.’
‘Don't get angry with Poppy. You’ve never been a good mother!’ Auntie Beryl slurs back, spilling her wine on the table.
‘A good mother? How dare you! You don't even talk to Carolyn anymore.’
Auntie Beryl gasps and freezes in horror. Carolyn is my cousin, who was always a goody two shoes. She was always the golden girl in the family, until she announced on her twenty first birthday that she was a lesbian. Well actually, I think her exact words in her speech were ‘massive muff muncher and if you don't love me you can go fuck yourself mum’. It was one of those excruciating embarrassing family events that we all pretend never happened. Shortly after, she moved to India to teach English and we haven’t talked about her since.
‘Well, I did a damn site better job than you,’ Auntie Beryl slurs, tears in her eyes.
‘Oh really? And so now you think my children are delinquents?’
‘Mum, she didn’t say that,’ I try and interrupt.
‘Jesus, Meryl!’ Dad shouts.
‘Don't you get involved Douglas!’ she shouts, waving her hands frantically.
Ollie gets up. ‘I’m going for a fag.’ He gives me a look which says ‘run while you can’.
‘If you’d have been a better mother maybe Oliver wouldn’t still be living at home smoking like a chimney.’
‘Hey, don't get me involved!’ he shouts looking hurt.
‘Don't start picking on my son! Maybe if you were a better mother, Carolyn wouldn’t be licking vaginas in India right now!’
‘Mum!’ I shout, horrified.
‘Poppy, for Christ’s sake! Do something!’ Dad shouts, a helpless exhausted expression on his face.
Why does Dad always think that I can control them? A riot squad of policemen couldn’t control these two.
‘I...I...listen to me!’ I try, desperate to get their attention.
‘If you think for one moment, I’m going to stay here and let you insult me,’ Auntie Beryl says, swaying heavily in her seat.
‘Go! No-one’s holding a gun to your head Beryl,’ Mum barks, crossing her arms.
‘Listen to me!’ I shout. I look around desperately at Richard and Henry who are looking at their watches and clearly wondering if they can make a run for it.
‘What? What are you going to do about it? Hit me Meryl? Because I still have the scar from the last time you lost your temper!’
‘Don't fucking tempt me Beryl!’
‘Just listen!’ I shout, standing up.
‘I’m not afraid of you. Come on! Let’s go.’ Auntie Beryl stands up and puts her fists up to her face.
‘Stop this!’ Dad shouts.
‘Listen!’ I stand between them.
‘Do something!’ Dad shouts at me.
What the hell can I say to stop this? Think. Think of something that would shock them. Anything!
‘I’ve got a boyfriend!’ I shout.
A sharp silence fills the air. Five gawping faces stare back at me. Oh dear. What the hell have I done?
‘Sorry?’ Mum says, speaking very slowly, as if I’m a bird that she doesn’t want to startle in case I fly away. ‘You’ve got a....a boyfriend?’
‘Um...yes.’
‘A real one?’ Auntie Beryl asks, pulling her head to the side.
‘Well of course a real one!’ Mum says, clicking her tongue.
‘Stuart mentioned you were with someone new,’ Henry adds. ‘Ryan, isn’t it?’
‘Why the hell do you still hang out with Stuart? I’ve told you it makes me feel uncomfortable.’
‘He’s in my rugby team and I don't see why I should stop hanging out with him just because you guys broke up.’
‘Um, let me think. Because he dumped me, because you’re loyal to your sister?’ He looks back at me like I’m some deranged nutter.
‘Darling,’ Mum says, her face lighting up, ‘you have to tell us everything!’
* * *
When I get in I head straight for my bed, my temples pounding. How the hell do I get myself into these messes? Never have I been so accepted by my family. Anyone would think I’d cured cancer tonight, not just announced that I’m seeing someone. I now have an imaginary boyfriend called Ryan.
How the hell do I do it?
Chapter 13
Not to worry. No need to panic. Although my life does seem to be getting more ridiculous and unpredictable by the second, there's one thing I can always count on. A tea and a cupcake.
As I walk into the bakery the smell of freshly baked bread invades my nostrils. I take a deep breath and already feel calmer. Thank God for bread. The owner Glenda greets me with a smile. The moody goth girl with the black hair and lip piercing is helping out again, but she doesn’t acknowledge me.
‘Morning,’ I say to goth girl.
She does her usual grunt of response. Glenda looks up at me from serving a nearby table and smiles as if to say ‘when will she cheer up, eh?’ Seriously, why is this bitch always so miserable? It's not like she can say she’s tired – she's surrounded by unlimited coffee!
Beep beep. It’s a text from Jazz.
Today’s challenge – make a new friend to bring to Nobo 2mo nite. Don’t worry Grandma, free entry and complimentary drinks xxx
Oh great. Another night out. Just what I need. Who the hell am I going to be able to befriend before tomorrow night? I don’t have the time and to be honest I can’t be bloody bothered.
I look behind the glass counter at the lines and lines of cupcakes. There’s sunflower cupcakes, chocolate orange cupcakes, cupcakes that look like shuttlecocks, cupcakes with chocolate buttons and balls on top, cupcakes with strawberry slices coated in chocolate. Everywhere I look there’s sprinkles, flakes, butterflies.