Chapter Thirty
By late Sunday afternoon, Amber’s euphoria from exacting revenge on Matthew had subsided. The initial rush of elation, fuelled by anger and adrenalin, had disappeared faster than Mr Tomkin slurping up a saucer of cream. She was left feeling as flat as a tyre that had been pierced with hundreds of nails. Reaching for her mobile, she tapped out a message on the Secs in the City group chat.
***
Dee drove home from Harrison Hunter-Brown’s premises in a complete daze. Her meeting with Harrison (‘Please, call me Harry’) had passed in a blur. She hadn’t so much as walked back to her car as floated. In slow motion. What the heck was the matter with her? Perhaps she was in some sort of weird aftermath of emotion. That must be it. She was glad of the distraction when her mobile dinged a message on the Secs in the City group chat.
***
Chrissie woke up in her old bedroom after a couple of hours’ much needed snoozing. At first, she wasn’t sure what had disturbed her. She was just drifting off again when the mobile dinged a message reminder. Making a long-arm, she picked it up and read a message from Amber.
Ladies, are you available this evening. I’m feeling crappier than the earring I chucked at Matthew (it landed in fox’s mess).
Chrissie could see that Dee was typing. Seconds later the mobile chimed with Dee’s message.
I’m feeling really weird. Possibly experiencing the bit before a full-blown breakdown. Don’t know what to do.
Chrissie sat up properly, and typed her own message.
The only nice thing about today was my mum’s dinner. I’ve left Andrew. Back in my old bedroom at mum and dad’s. Feel like a failure.
Amber began typing. Let’s meet up. Now. What about going for a drink?
Dee instantly replied. I passed a lovely pub when I was driving through Seal.
Chrissie’s fingers flew across the screen. What were you doing in Seal?
Dee’s answer was almost instant. Tell you when I see you. Want me to pick you up?
Chrissie typed back. Yes please.
Amber came next. As long as you both promise not to share updates with each other until we’re all together. I don’t want to miss anything! Which pub, Dee?
Dee’s reply was swift. It’s called “The Beagle and Bugle” and on the High Street. See you at seven.
Chrissie glanced at her watch. It was a little after six. She hadn’t a moment to lose. Swinging her legs off the bed, she padded downstairs to the lounge. Her father had nodded off in front of the television, and her mother was reading the Sunday supplements which were spread across the coffee table. Tortoiseshell specs were perched on her nose. Pam glanced up at Chrissie.
‘Hello, darling. Feeling better?’
Chrissie gave a wan smile. ‘A bit. I feel…,’ she shrugged, ‘empty. Like a car that’s run out of petrol.’
Pam nodded. ‘Hardly surprising. Can I make you a cup of tea?’
‘No, don’t get up,’ Chrissie said quickly. ‘You’ve been busy all afternoon, and I feel guilty that I didn’t help you earlier with the washing up. Er, Mum. Would you mind terribly if…’ Chrissie trailed off. The downside of being back under her parents’ roof was feeling like seventeen again, and having to ask permission to go out. She’d have to give assurances not to be late so they didn’t worry, or feel they couldn’t relax and sleep until she was home again.
‘What is it, darling?’
‘Um, well, Dee and Amber. You know. My two closest friends who I work with–’
‘Yes, I know who Dee and Amber are. What’s up?’
‘They’ve asked if I’d like to go for a drink with them this evening. Is it okay with you if I pop out for two or three hours?’
‘Of course. Do you need a lift?’
‘Dee has offered to pick me up.’
‘That’s nice of her. And while we’re on the subject of being out and about, you can borrow my car to get to work.’
‘Oh,’ said Chrissie, taken aback. She’d had visions of chopping and changing buses in order to travel from Swanley to Gravesend. ‘How will you manage without the car?’
‘Perfectly well. I’m within walking distance of the supermarket, and the exercise will do me good. I’ll borrow your grandma’s shopping basket on wheels. Good heavens,’ Pam pulled a horrified face, ‘I wasn’t expecting that to happen yet! Next I’ll be wearing one of those foldaway plastic hoods to keep my hair dry.’ She laughed good-naturedly. ‘If there is a day where I need the car, I’ll simply give you a lift into Gravesend and pick you up later. It’s not exactly a million miles away. We’ll muddle along. Don’t worry about it.’
‘Thanks, Mum,’ said Dee gratefully. She stooped and kissed her mother’s cheek. ‘I’ll go and freshen up, and maybe pinch a bit of your make-up,’ she said, winking at her mother.
Pam looked rueful. ‘Honestly, darling, you don’t need cosmetics. Truly. I’m so sorry for what I said earlier. You’re beautiful as you are.’
‘I’m going to give myself an overhaul,’ said Chrissie, ‘starting from now. And on pay day I’ll be binning the scrunchies and having a restyle.’
‘Good for you,’ said Pam. ‘It’s about time my daughter spent her hard-earned money on herself.’
When Dee pulled up outside the Peterson’s house, she did a double-take at Chrissie.
‘Wow!’ she wolf-whistled. ‘I almost didn’t recognise you. I can’t remember when I last saw you wearing lippy and mascara.’
‘Stop it,’ Chrissie gave a gurgle of delighted laughter. She was surprised to hear the sound of merriment, no matter how brief, escaping from her lips. It had been so long since she’d had anything to giggle about.
***
When Dee and Chrissie arrived at The Beagle and Bugle, Amber was already there. The evening temperature had taken a sharp drop. Inside the pub a wood burning stove was gobbling up logs and emitting the occasional crackle and pop. Amber had appropriated some easy chairs around a low table by the fire.
‘Ooooh,’ said Dee, flopping down into a squashy chair, ‘this is wonderful.’ She leant forward, letting the wood burner warm her cold hands. ‘All we need now is some marshmallows to stick in that fire.’ She kicked off her shoes and began wiggling her toes.
‘Hey,’ said Amber, ‘you’re not at home now, madam. Put those back on!’ she nodded at Dee’s footwear.
Chrissie sank into the other easy chair. Leaning back, she sighed. She felt like she was starting to relax. Was it only last night she’d been awoken by a drunken boyfriend…correction ex-boyfriend…with his sugar mummy? Chrissie presumed Mandy was a sugar mummy. She’d certainly been very expensively dressed. She wondered if Andrew had taken money off Mandy. And then she froze as a thought crossed her brain. Dear Lord. Surely not.
‘What’s up?’ asked Amber. ‘You look like you’ve seen a dead relative sit down beside you.’
‘I-I’m wondering if Andrew is…is…taking payment for…you know,’ Chrissie jerked her head and winked whilst miming with her hands, ‘how’s-your-father’.
Amber’s eyes widened. ‘What, you mean, like a male prostitute?’
Dee looked flabbergasted. ‘Where did that idea come from?’
‘Hold it right there, lady,’ said Amber. ‘I think you need to start at the beginning. We all do. Things have been happening to us faster than warp speed. Let’s order a drink and then update each other. I know we’re driving, Dee, but we can treat ourselves to one. Apart from you, Chrissie. You can get as sloshed as you like – especially if your boyfriend has been renting his willy out.’
Exactly on cue, the man behind the bar came over. ‘Evening, ladies. To save you getting up and leaving the warmth of the fireside, let me take your drink orders and then I will personally bring them over to you.’
‘Aren’t you lovely,’ cooed Amber. ‘I’ll have a G and T, please.’
‘Make that two,’ said Dee, with a smile.
Chrissie wasn’t a great fan of gin and tonic, but couldn’t decide what to have. As she looked up at the man to ask for Prosecco, she caught her breath. Literally. Embarrassingly, she gulped down gallons of air and began to choke. As her eyes bulged, her tear ducts spurted water, and she found herself struggling for air. Amber and Dee looked at her in faint amusement until realising their friend was in difficulty, whereupon they and the barman lunged to thump Chrissie on the back, and everybody banged heads.
‘Chuffing hell,’ Amber gasped.
‘Flipping heck,’ Dee moaned.
‘I’m so sorry,’ groaned the barman.
‘Oh my–’ Chrissie began, before being ambushed by a loud burp which had her turning pink.
‘Are you okay?’ asked the barman. Concerned, he placed an arm around Chrissie’s shoulders. She nearly sprang off the chair like a jack-in-the-box. This guy’s touch was hotter than the wood burner’s glowing embers, and he was having a bizarre effect on her body. She felt as though she’d been jump-started by car leads. A dormant pulse between her legs had inexplicably roared into life. Somewhere deep inside her an invisible throttle was making brrrrmm brrrmm noises.
‘Chrissie?’ asked Dee in concern. ‘Say something!’
‘Make that three gin and tonics, please,’ she squeaked.
For a split second everybody just stared. Chrissie had a horrible feeling she’d said, ‘Take mat three tin and gonics, peas.’
‘Right,’ said the barman uncertainly. He gave his head a quick rub. ‘Three gin and tonics coming up.’