For Once In My Life

Chapter 10

Shazza spent most of the tidying-up time leaning on the hatch, jotting down some notes for her article, while Kitty washed up, rearranged the cupboard and gave the whole kitchen a good wipe down, feeling satisfied that everything was better than how she’d found it. She thought of Dave and how he always left crumbs on the work surface even when he hadn’t been doing anything with bread. Once those constant crumbs had annoyed her but now, somehow, she missed them.

‘Do you think…?’ she began.

Shazza held up a hand to stop her. ‘Don’t even think about it.’

‘But…’

‘Let him go. The man’s eejit central, let him go off and play with his toys.’

‘He might be?—’

‘Remember, your new life is about to start.’ Shazza pushed herself up to sit on the counter, her legs dangling down. ‘This is the verge. Tomorrow it begins. For both of us. We’re in this together.’ Kitty moved to sit beside her. ‘And there’s no one I want to be on the verge of a brand-new life with more than you,’ continued Shazza. ‘Especially someone who can get a shine on a stainless-steel kitchen like you. It’s gleaming. What is this? The Hall of Mirrors at Versailles?’ She slipped her arm through Kitty’s and gave her a squeeze. ‘Seriously. You’re going to be okay.’

‘We both are,’ said Kitty.

‘I hope so,’ said Shazza. ‘Sometimes I wake up and wonder if it’s going to be just me for the rest of my life. And that I may as well become an actual nun instead of just a virtual one and then at least I wouldn’t have to worry about what to wear every day as I would just wear a grey cardigan and a giant crucifix and I would eat porridge and other wholesome things.’ She brightened up. ‘I might actually lose weight!’

Kitty laughed, just as a woman entered.

‘Making tea for the troops,’ she said. ‘You’d think as a nation we’d reach saturation point… but, no, we are like those magic sponges you can buy on the internet. The ones for when your freezer defrosts… You go and sit down and I’ll bring it out.’

Kitty and Shazza dropped to their feet, heading to the main hall.

‘Strong, drop of milk, no sugar!’ Edith was shouting from the steps beside the stage as Kitty and Shazza walked towards those who were left after the tidying up.

‘Mine’s the camomile,’ said another woman. ‘I’m convinced it’s the only thing that is helping me sleep at the moment. I’ve been driven demented by the old insomnia.’

‘Nescafé instant,’ called an older man, sitting on the lower step, his legs pressed together, his hands clutched and resting on his knees. ‘You know how I like it.’

Rory and Tom leaned against the stage, murmuring to each other.

Edith looked up. ‘Aha! Well, if it isn’t our new footballers!’

‘I think the soubriquet “footballers” might be a bit ambitious,’ said Shazza, making squiggles in the air, and sitting herself beside Edith on the steps. ‘Kitty and I are useless at all sports… We’re just people-pleasers.’ She paused. ‘Well, Kitty is, being so much nicer than me.’

Rory laughed. ‘It’s only meant to be a bit of fun,’ he said. ‘Don’t worry about it.’

‘Well,’ said Edith, in her big, booming voice, ‘I think you all are like modern-day Fionn MacCools, our great Irish hero, who listened while the spirits whispered, who chewed on his thumb and the secrets of the world were laid out for him…’

‘Aunt Edith,’ said Tom, ‘it’s just a five-a-side team… hardly saving the soul of Ireland, are we?’

‘But we have to be ambitious, do we not?’ said Edith. ‘Dream big, live large and pan for gold, for ye will find it in the reeds of the river, for those who seek will be rewarded. Those who sit still will rot.’

The older man laughed again.

Edith turned to Kitty. ‘Have you met my other nephew, Rory? My sister, Rosamund, is their mother,’ explained Edith. ‘And this is the one and only Carmen Kelly, accountant by day, belly dancer by night. Carmen may have the kind of hips that don’t lie, but she’s also got the finest mathematical brain this side of the equator…’

‘You’ve got to make a living, haven’t you?’ said Carmen, smiling, and holding out her hand, first to Kitty and then Shazza. ‘It’s a joke, by the way,’ she said. ‘The belly dancing bit. Unfortunately, the accountant bit is very real.’

‘She does my accounts for the haberdashery,’ said Edith, ‘and she’s now also the comptroller-in-chief of the Sandycove community fundraising committee. She makes sure that all the dots are dotted and the t’s are t’d. Isn’t that right?’

‘Right enough,’ said Carmen.

‘And this is Janet,’ said Edith, just as the woman emerged from the kitchen with a tray of cups.

‘I’ve made extra tea,’ she said. ‘For the stragglers. I think I heard the voice of the bold Sharon Keegan, did I not?’

Shazza was smiling at her. ‘Good evening, Janet,’ she said. ‘I didn’t get to say hello in the scrum.’ She turned to Kitty. ‘Kitty, this is the indispensable Janet MacNamara-Doyle, the real power behind the Sandycove Newsletter, our Rottweiler receptionist…’

Janet glowed under the flattery. ‘This girl has done wonders with the Newsletter since she joined,’ she said. ‘It’s proper journalism now. I keep saying it’s like having Woodward and Bernstein in the office.’

‘Aren’t they the characters from The Muppet Show?’ asked Shazza, making everyone laugh, especially Rory.

‘Sharon is off men,’ went on Janet, handing out the cups, including two very strong cups of tea to Kitty and Shazza, and giving Tom the packet of own-brand digestives to hand around. ‘She was telling me this morning. I thought that was very sensible in this day and age. Girls can focus on their careers now, can’t they? When I was young, it was all about finding a husband PDQ.’

‘Well,’ said Shazza, sitting down on the bottom step, ‘when I say off men, I mean, I’ve joined a virtual nunnery and if it means my career, such as it is, benefits, then so be it.’

‘Are you also off men?’ Edith asked Kitty. ‘Or is that an impertinent question?’

‘Impertinent questions don’t stop you, Aunt Edith,’ said Tom.

‘No,’ said Edith, ‘why should they? People don’t have to answer…’

‘Kitty should be off men,’ replied Shazza, ‘because she’s been left dangling by her so-called partner, Dave the non-rave.’

Everyone seemed greatly amused by Shazza, as she held court.

‘Joining my virtual nunnery is,’ she went on, ‘the only way I can guarantee a happy life. You see, I have spent my entire existence catering to the whims of men, putting my own needs second or even third… or fourth… and as Kitty and I have decided, men are not worth it… Anyway, I blame my mother…’

‘Most people do, sadly,’ said Edith.

‘She wished she’d had sons, but she had me and my sister, Shona… and I must say if I had given birth to Shona, I too would have been disappointed… but she always said how much easier having boys would have been and how much trouble me and Shona were. I grew up with the idea that men were these idealised creatures who should be loved and adored. Well, it turns out that that’s bollocksology.’

‘Traumatising,’ said Edith, making an amused face at Janet.

Tom leant back, sipping his tea. He was wearing long cargo shorts, and Kitty found herself wishing that Dave wore the same kind of clothes, instead of his navy blue, stiff denim jeans and those depressing shirts with the granddad collars.

Don’t think about him, she told herself. Keep busy. Keep going until life resumes. At least, she thought, the football might fill in time until Dave came back.