Same Time Next Week

Chapter 17

Amanda was stupidly nervous as she sat on a table nearest the counter in the diner. She checked her watch. No one had come in yet, but then again it was only just a quarter to six.

‘Relax,’ said Ray. ‘If they come, they come. If they don’t, then you and I have a lot of cookies to eat between us.’

He smiled at her, winked, and Amanda tried not to feel as gooey inside as one of his cookies. He’d baked a batch for her, and they were sitting in the back room on the table with the coffee and tea dispensers and jug of juice. He refused to give her an invoice, because of all she’d done for him in starting the ball rolling, even though she’d said it was the company’s money and not her own. ‘Next time I will,’ he’d replied. ‘This time, it’s on me.’

He tapped her hand because, though she didn’t normally bite her fingernails, her teeth were playing with them.

‘You’re going to be a wreck by six,’ said Ray. ‘I can see myself having to perform the kiss of life on you by quarter past.’

Oh god, if only, she thought and then had a micro panic because the voice in her head was so loud she worried she might actually have said that aloud.

‘Excuse me, we have a booking,’ said a red-haired woman who had just walked up to the counter. She had a man in tow behind her who was looking around, taking it all in. The diner was three-quarters full tonight, which was great. Both Ray and the kitchen were buzzing. As Ray was showing them to a table, a lone woman walked in and approached Amanda.

‘Excuse me, do you work here? Is this where the women’s group is?’

That’s one, said Amanda inwardly, with an imaginary fist-pump. ‘Yes, just go down there to your left, there’s a sign on the door. Help yourself to refreshments.’

She didn’t need telling twice, Amanda thought, watching her march down to the meeting room.

Another woman came in; young, pale, pretty, unsure.

‘You here for the friendship group?’ asked Amanda.

‘Yes, that’s right.’

Two then; thank you, God, she said to herself. It was better to be Billy-few-mates than Billy-no-mates.

Mel noticed the events flyer on the table when she picked up the drinks menu. They had a women’s friendship club here on Tuesday nights. That might have been a nice thing to attend had she not been here with Steve. She would have liked to have joined something like that. She’d seen a couple of adverts in the local paper for start-up groups but they tended to be for knitters or stitchers or pensioners and she wasn’t a fit for any of those. She’d joined a book group once and it had been dominated by a married couple who wrote stories together and considered themselves the definitive voices of all things literary. It had been enough to put her off reading for life.

‘Are you having a starter?’ she asked Steve, who had a face like a slapped arse. He’d just wanted to have a shower and eat the pie that was in the fridge, sit and watch the TV, not get togged up and go out, he’d moaned. She’d answered that there was nothing on the TV worth seeing on Tuesdays and putting a pair of jeans on and a polo shirt was hardly getting done up like a dog’s dinner. They were only going out for a bite and she wanted a night off cooking. He’d relented, of course, but hardly with leaps of joy.

The menu looked lovely and as a waitress walked past with a burger, the smell of it drifted up Mel’s nose and made her stomach growl with hunger.

‘There’s a pie on the menu if you still fancy one,’ she commented.

‘I can read, Mel.’

She bit her lip. It seemed that whatever she said at the moment, he was short with her. Her blood test results that she’d had back super-quick that afternoon showed that she had no vitamin nor mineral deficiencies, so her niggling anxiety wasn’t down to a chemical imbalance. She’d come to the conclusion that the problem wasn’t her; it was him. Something was off with him and she was absorbing it, but she’d learned over the years that the more she pushed him to talk about things he was uncomfortable with, the more he retreated into a shell or a cave or whatever it was that men from Mars hid in. That bloody book gave the male species a legitimate ‘I can’t do anything about it, it’s in my nature’ excuse to act like knobheads, in her opinion. But it wasn’t half annoying when she was here trying to give him a treat and he seemed hell bent on bringing her down.

‘The burger for me, please,’ she announced when the waitress came to take their order. ‘Extra cheese and the sticky sauce.’

‘Steak and eggs then. Medium rare,’ said Steve, as if someone had put their hand down his throat and forcibly pulled the choice from him.

They sat in silence, Mel wondering how long it would take for him to spark up some conversation. She’d love to have known what was going on in his head, because something was; he was somewhere else, not here with her where he should have been.

‘How’s the job in Donny going?’ asked Mel eventually, wearing her best tolerant smile. She was determined to make him enjoy this evening. ‘You must have nearly finished by now.’

‘It’s going,’ said Steve. ‘Slowly. I’ve got an overnight tomorrow.’

‘Another one?’ He usually hated overnights and did everything he could to avoid them because, he said, he liked his own bed too much. ‘That’s a shame.’

He shrugged. ‘It is what it is.’

‘… Until it isn’t,’ she finished off the saying with a trill of laughter. It was something his dad always said, and that Steve had adopted without even being aware of it. ‘I bet you’ll be glad to see the back of it.’ It had been hanging around his neck for too long and maybe that’s why he was raggy-tempered and couldn’t get it up in bed on Saturday night. She really shouldn’t have said anything about asking for medical advice on his behalf; she’d felt bad about that ever since.

‘Nice in here, isn’t it?’ said Mel, watching the woman with the dark-brown hair who’d been sitting by the counter when they walked in direct a couple of ladies around the corner, and she wondered if that was where the women’s club was being held.

‘It’s a bit… “café” for me,’ replied Steve, casting his eyes around. From the expression on his face, Mel guessed he wasn’t as impressed as she was. Although, the mood he was in recently, even Versailles would have come up short.

‘Look at the puddings they do,’ said Mel, picking up the menu again and pointing to the back page.

‘I’m not having a pudding,’ said Steve. ‘I need to lose some weight.’

You need to lose the black cloud more, thought Mel. A slice of Mississippi Mud Pie might have cheered him up. He almost always had a dessert when they ate out.

‘Is everything okay?’ she asked softly. She knew she shouldn’t really, but her caring nature insisted she pose the question.

Steve twitched. ‘Yeah. Why would you ask that?’ Then he added pointedly, ‘Again.’

‘I don’t know, you just seem… not like yourself.’

‘I wish you’d stop asking me if I’m okay. I won’t be if you keep on.’

‘I worry about you. I don’t want work getting on top of you.’

‘I’ve been a painter and decorator since I was sixteen years old, Mel. It doesn’t get on top of me.’ He took a long sip of lager as if it was a full stop on the conversation.

‘It’s just that we’re not getting any younger. I bet you don’t race up the ladders like you used to,’ she said, knowing that his back sometimes gave him gyp. It was another wrong thing to say.

‘What’s that supposed to mean?’

‘I’m just saying that… well, jobs where you’re up and down ladders, physical jobs, stretching… they’ll take a toll on you, maybe earlier… than if you sat at a desk…’

She hadn’t really meant to go that deeply into it, it was just a throwaway line.

‘It’s you going to the doctors to work out what’s wrong with you, worrying that a spot is the start of a tumour, so don’t go projecting your health issues onto me.’

That stung. She wasn’t that worried that the little lump on her head was anything nasty, but it was best to check with a nurse while she’d been in the surgery getting her blood test. It wasn’t her being a hypochondriac, just sensible, and she resented him saying otherwise. She wouldn’t have scoffed at him had he been the one with something different concerning his body that he wanted reassurance about. Things invariably went wrong when you got older and so you kept on top of them; you didn’t run away from them hoping they’d bugger off.

‘Anyway, it’s harmless. I thought it would be,’ said Mel. She didn’t tell him that the doctor had popped in to take a look at it and said it was a senile wart, because she could guess what sarcastic remark that might unleash.

‘I could have told you that.’

She drowned the retort that she must have missed the part where he got his Doctor of Medicine degree with a mouthful of lager.

‘It’s really nice in here, I think.’

‘You said that already.’

Oh, she’d just about had enough now.

‘Why are you being so crappy with me, Steve?

He pulled a comical face of disbelief. ‘Are you trying to pick a fight?’

‘No,’ said Mel, ‘I’m trying to have a nice evening. I thought this would be lovely, you and me and a place we haven’t been to before.’ A wobble was creeping into her voice. ‘I thought, we should do more of this, once a week, going somewhere and making an effort to get out of the rut we’re in. Don’t you get fed up of it being the same routine all the time?’

The smiling waitress crashed into their exchange by her arrival with their meals.

‘Here we go,’ she said and put them down. ‘Any extra sauces?’

‘No, thank you,’ they both said in unison.

‘Looks nice,’ said Steve, nodding appreciatively at the pile of food on his plate. And Mel hoped that was him finally making an effort to reset the evening, but it had been spoilt now and she wished she’d just cooked the bloody pie at home instead.

The first arrival – Janine – had hoovered up three of the giant cookies by the time that Amanda closed the door, accepting this was the only intake of women she was going to get tonight.

There were six of them there, including herself. The young blonde lady; Janine; two other women who had come together and didn’t want a biscuit or a coffee, and someone else who got her knitting and a pattern out.

‘I’ve never really done one of these clubs before,’ said Amanda with an embarrassed chortle. ‘I know it’s the first and I’m hoping that news travels so we get some more to swell the ranks. Allow me to introduce myself.’ And she did, and she told them that she worked at Mon Enfant who made baby equipment and that while she was collecting information to help reform things in the workplace for women who might be uncatered for at certain stages of their lives, she’d thought of launching a friendship group so ladies could come together and give some support to each other, even if it was only in the form of a weekly natter in a safe space. If anything constructive came of it, she’d use that for her research, but it wasn’t the main purpose of the meetings.

‘Well, I can help you there,’ said Janine, taking another biscuit. ‘I had a terrible menopause. Terrible. I’ve told them at my place, that when I’m off it’s for genuine reasons and I shouldn’t be expected to fill in any sickness forms. It should be the law that they have a women’s specialist on site—’

‘Well, that depends on how big the firm is, surely,’ interrupted the knitter, not looking up from her creation. ‘Small businesses can’t afford stuff like that. It’d cripple them.’

‘Then they should make me redundant and give me disability money…’

And on Janine droned, about all the things in life she should be entitled to and Amanda wondered what the hell she’d been thinking of to instigate such an initiative.

The knitting woman left after half an hour; she just packed up her stuff and walked out at the point when Amanda felt her ears were going to bleed and she wished she could follow her. Janine, though, had found a captive audience and dominated the entire evening. The two women who had come together, and didn’t eat or drink anything had stayed silent throughout. They’d probably have gone sooner had they been brave enough to move, Amanda thought, and when they said their goodbyes she knew that was the last she’d seen of them. What a total disaster.

‘Same time next week then,’ said Janine as a parting shot and Amanda said, ‘Goodbye’ and was already dreading it.

‘I’ll help you clear up,’ said the young blonde. Her name was Sky. That’s about as much as Amanda knew of her because she hadn’t been able to get a word in for gobby Janine.

‘Oh, bless you but there’s not that much to do.’ Amanda sighed, defeated.

‘The cookies were amazing.’

‘Take some back with you. Please. I’ll get you a bag.’

‘I’ll have one now if I could,’ said Sky. ‘Can I get another coffee, please?’

She was in no rush to go home.

‘Of course you can. And I’ll have one too with you,’ said Amanda. Sky pumped them out of the containers into two fresh mugs and retook a seat at the table.

‘I didn’t really know what to expect,’ Amanda said. ‘I’d hoped it would be better than this car crash.’

To her surprise Sky chuckled. ‘It was certainly good entertainment.’

Amanda dropped her head into her hands but joined her in laughing.

‘It was the longest two hours of my life.’

‘Still, I’ve learned a lot about vaginal dryness and why you should have automatic time off work for it.’

Amanda snorted. The laughter was well needed.

‘Where do you work?’ she asked Sky.

‘Just over there,’ she pointed in the direction of Spring Hill Square. ‘At Bon Repair, the repair shop. I make and mend teddy bears.’

‘Really? Is it a thing? Do people still want them mending?’

‘Oh yes, you’d be surprised. And I occasionally help the toy man who is a bit busier. I think he gives me jobs out of the kindness of his heart.’

‘Goodness, a kind man. Janine would dispute such an entity exists,’ said Amanda, not really caring if she sounded bitchy to a relative stranger. The woman had wrecked her club single-handedly. She was like the inverse of Philip, with her man-hating diatribes. ‘How did you get into that then?’

‘My dad. He had a toy shop and doll’s hospital. I worked with him ever since I was small.’

‘Is he still… around?’

‘No, he died six years ago. I’m an orphan. I’ve never really got used to calling myself that.’

‘I’ve still got my mum,’ said Amanda, ‘but she’s getting frail.’ She thought again about that strange thing she’d said about Bettina Boot running off with Arnold. Bettina wouldn’t have stooped so low.

‘I’m sorry this was such a disaster.’ Amanda sighed. ‘I had hoped that when women came together with the same aim in mind, something good might come of it.’

‘I enjoyed myself,’ said Sky with a nod. ‘Maybe for all the wrong reasons.’ She gave a cheeky smirk and Amanda knew exactly what she meant by that.

‘I’m going through the menopause myself,’ Sky admitted to her. ‘I was getting ready to tell Janine that if the situation arose. I was waiting for her to say that I couldn’t possibly know what it was all about because of my age.’

‘Really? How old are you?’ She was either in her mid-twenties or she had some great face cream.

‘I’m twenty-six. I had a hysterectomy fifteen months ago.’

Amanda winced at her revelation. ‘That’s very early to go through such a big op.’

‘Trust me, I’d take it over the pain of endometriosis any day. Yep. I was pretty unlucky in the gynaecological stakes,’ Sky said with a small shrug of her shoulders. ‘Quite an extreme measure, but on balance, well, I couldn’t have kids anyway because I have a heart condition, a gift from the family gene pool. It’s a bit like angina… but my mother’s health never really recovered after she gave birth to me, so the docs advised me it would be the safest course of action. It happened, no point in bleating about it.’

Sky read Amanda’s expression and felt an immediate rush of embarrassment.

‘Sorry, I didn’t mean to overshare all that. I don’t talk about it normally. I manage it very well, so no one needs to know who doesn’t know already. Did you lace the biscuits with a truth drug?’

She was making light of it, thought Amanda. What a lot of shit to be dealt to someone so young.

‘Sometimes it’s easier to talk to strangers,’ she said. ‘I think my whole street knows I’m on HRT.’ It was a lie but she just wanted to make Sky feel as if she wasn’t alone in opening her mouth before better judgement could shut it.

Sky nodded. ‘I’m on it too and even though it’s a low dose, I know it’s helping.’ Her insomnia had cranked up again recently, but she thought that could be attributed more to Wilton Dearne than to changes in her body.

‘I’m going to get you a bag so you can take some of those cookies home. They’ll only go to waste, so they might as well go to your waist instead,’ said Amanda and bobbed out of the room.

Sky sat in the silence and sipped at her coffee. Tonight might not have gone as Amanda had planned, but Sky had been grateful for having her thoughts wrested from Bon, and Mr Creep at home. Maybe more women would come whom she might gel with. She had really liked Amanda and it was clear that she wanted her club to be a success. She’d stick one of the flyers on the noticeboard at work for her in the hope that some customers might see it. And she’d definitely come back the same time next week for Amanda’s company, even if mouthy Janine did too.

Women needed friends and if they didn’t have them, then they needed a way of connecting with like-minded females who might become their friends. Maybe if she’d had just one pal at school who cared more about her than getting an invite to Angel Sutton’s parties, her life might have turned out completely differently.