The conversation with Diane did not go according to plan: somehow (and Anna blamed the one bar of signal and not the fact she had polished off most of the Merlot).
‘Hi, Dee-Dee, me ol’chumster can youzhearmez?’ Diane made some sort of sound at the end of the phone and Anna ploughed on regardless. ‘So, herezthing, thcottageisrubbish.’ She took a deep breath. ‘Wathwonderinifcouldstaywivyou? ThereizamancalledHorathio and he sayth house not mine.’
‘What do you mean? Your aunt left it to you.’
Anna hiccupped. ‘Yesth, I know. But he says not mine so maybe best I come back London.’
Diane sighed. ‘You’re giving up that easily? You were given it in probate so it’s yours.’ She paused. ‘Why don’t I come and stay with you, darling?’
Anna shook her fuggy head. Conversation was not going to plan. ‘No, Dee. Thingisitzhorridhere.’
‘Bet it’s not that bad.’
‘Really, itizth.’
‘Darling, I’ve been thinking I should stay with you until you get on your feet. She paused. ‘I mean, also I spoke to Barry yesterday. He said he could do with a freelance photographer for your column, so, Anna, is it OK if I come and stay?’
‘Yesth?’ Anna fell forward, her head hitting her knees.
‘Great!’
‘Whatzth?’ Alarm rang around Anna’s head. She realised she wasn’t thinking straight.
The line had gone dead and Anna lurched the other way, falling onto the mattress, the low-beamed ceiling shifting unnervingly above her. She thought about the direction her life was taking and nearly vomited.
She did, however, feel a renewed sense of ownership of the cottage. How dare a man, a stranger, tell her his family owned it and that he would effectively be making her homeless? Her aunt would have been mortified and her letter specifically asked that she stay there. She wouldn’t go away that easily.
Anna nodded resolutely and then thought about Diane…
She couldn’t seriously contemplate having mad London girl Diane staying with her when she was… She stopped. Tried to clarify what she was drunkenly saying to herself. OK, bluntly, it went a little bit like this: she could not have Diane come to stay when she was hoping to find some fit earl, lord, farmer (or similar). Was that what she wanted? Or was that the wine talking? She knew she needed to make friends. She knew already that Diane might be a bit much for the country lot, but then, Anna thought, chuckling to herself, maybe Trumpsey Blazey needed a bit of livening up.
Of the dates she had been on in London, very few had moved beyond the solidarity of trying to find a taxi together and then, being so drunk, realising it was probably best, or safer, to just smile goofily and go their separate ways. But even Anna Compton had managed two dates where things had moved at a more normal rate and they had stumbled into a taxi together. However, the first time, she had found there was nothing more sobering than a German babysitter (her name actually was Heidi) standing at the front door, tapping her foot and looking at the both of them like they were five. The second time, when looking for a babysitter, she had opted for a dear friend called Alfie, who’d said he would do her this favour in the name of getting her out of her onesie and into something ‘vaguely more sexy, darling’. What she hadn’t banked on was bringing her date home to find Alfie watching a male-only version of Baywatch produced in Bulgaria.
She squeezed her eyes shut and immediately regretted it. It was one thing being single with two children and getting drunk with a mate. But being single and getting drunk ALONE; that filled her with self-loathing. It hit her then: Diane should come and live with them, if for no other reason than it would be nice to have someone to help her with the twins, help them get settled.
Anna dragged herself off her bed and tiptoed halfway down the stairs to check on the twins. She could hear their gentle snoring and watched Freddie’s face looking suddenly so cherub-like. It was moments like this that made her more determined than ever to make life better for her children.
Yes, she thought, nodding to herself, filled with a renewed sense of purpose. Their new life was going to start tomorrow.
*
Diane arrived bright and early. Too early.
Anna had just about managed to get the children bathed, after which they had eaten the rest of the beef stew (Anna made a mental note that she might actually have to visit a supermarket today). They were now playing happily outside and she walked to the front door and watched them. The scene was something out of a fairy tale. Until she looked closer. Freddie had his sister’s hand and was whizzing her round and round to the tune of ‘Mummy is sick, Mummy is green, Mummy looks like a seasick bean’.
A car older and crankier than her own was chugging its way up the hill and she recognised it in a heartbeat. Diane parked her Citroen Saxo next to the Nissan and clambered out of the car, throwing her arms wide.
‘My darlings,’ she announced, ‘I am here.’
Freddie whooped at the sight of his favourite surrogate auntie and released his sister’s hand mid-spin, causing Antonia to break away and spiral like a spinning top to the ground. Her lower lip started to quiver but, on seeing Diane, she got up directly and ran over with Freddie.
Diane walked up the path, her eyes darting over the cottage, and took Anna in a firm embrace. Freddie and Antonia put their arms around Diane and they stood like that until Diane pulled away and broke the spell.
‘You look awful,’ Diane commented jovially.
‘Thanks,’ Anna said.
‘Mummy is sick, Mummy is green, Mummy looks like a seasick bean,’ Freddie started up again.
‘OK, you two,’ Anna said, wishing they would quiet down an iota: her head was about ready to explode. ‘We’re heading off to Waitrose soon, OK, so don’t get too mucky. Dee-Dee and I are going to have a quick cup of coffee.’
Diane gave herself a whistle-stop tour of the house and, when she returned to the kitchen, smiled. ‘Not quite The Good Life.’
‘I did try and tell you on the phone last night.’
‘Yeah, but it’s got a charm about it.’ She laughed. ‘The outside looks a bit like the end of the world has come.’ She paused. ‘But I like it.’
‘So, you want to stay?’ Anna poured the coffee out.
‘Oh, yes.’ She barked a laugh out. ‘Don’t worry, I’ve still got my flat in London in case I piss you off or cramp your sex life.’
Anna giggled. ‘Please. Don’t make me laugh.’ She clutched her stomach. ‘Drank a bottle of Merlot to myself.’
‘You’ve got a hangover on that? Lightweight.’ Diane wafted her hand dismissively. ‘That’s what I’m here for. To help you with this place and to have fun and… Girlfriend?’ She adopted her slightly strange Bronx meets Welsh accent. ‘Girlfriend, we are gonna have ourselves some fun.’
‘And look after the children.’
‘Yeah, course.’ Diane slurped at her coffee. ‘I mean, I decided to forego my feminism while I’m here.’
‘Can you do that?’ Anna hid behind her mug, stifling a smile.
‘What?’
‘Just stop being a feminist and then pick it up again? Not sure it’s exactly in line with The Female Eunuch and all that.’
‘No, I suppose not.’ Diane appraised her friend. ‘But who could resist a good shag?’
Anna clinked her mug against Diane’s. ‘Hear, hear!’
A knock at the door startled them both. Anna went to see who it was.
‘Hi.’ A man with sandy-coloured hair and the brightest blue eyes Anna had ever seen stood on the doorstep, smiling broadly at her. ‘I wanted to say hello.’ He handed her half a dozen eggs and a zip-locked bag of bacon. ‘And welcome.’
‘Wow, thanks.’ She took them from him and wondered if it was possible to never go to a supermarket again and live off the land for ever more. OK, not the land, but everyone else in the village. ‘That’s really kind.’
‘I’m Richard.’
Anna held out her free hand. ‘Anna.’
His grasp was warm and strong, his hands slightly calloused, and then, as if reading her thoughts, he announced, ‘I own the farm you drove past on your way in. Briars Farm?’
Anna nodded. ‘Yes, I think I saw it.’
Anna flushed under his intense stare and turned her attention to the children, who had come to spy on the stranger. ‘Say hello to Richard. Look, he’s brought us breakfast. Isn’t that kind of him?’
Richard turned to the twins, who nodded shyly. ‘Do you guys want to come and see around the farm some time?’
‘Yeah!’ Freddie loved farms. ‘Can I drive a tractor?’
‘I don’t see why not.’ Richard looked at Anna. ‘Come?’ She nodded. ‘Soon?’ He turned on his heels and walked off. ‘Enjoy your breakfast!’
Anna started to walk back towards the kitchen but spied Diane peeping out of the front window.
Diane grinned. ‘Ding-dong! Now that’s what I’m talking about.’
Anna smiled. ‘He was quite good-looking, wasn’t he?’
Diane rushed up to her and held her hand to Anna’s forehead. ‘Quite good-looking? Quite good-looking? The man’s the finest specimen I have seen for a long time.’ She nodded. ‘A really long time.’ She looked at Anna. ‘Do you think “breakfast” is a euphemism in these parts? Like, I’ll give you eggs and bacon, if you butter my bread.’ She puckered her lips. ‘Delicious.’
‘You are incorrigible,’ Anna said, picking up a cushion off the sofa and throwing it at her.
With Diane’s bags offloaded into the sitting room and breakfast eaten, they headed out in search of a supermarket.
‘I’ll buy the food, darling. It’s the least I can do,’ said Diane.
‘No, no, you’re on leave,’ Anna said matter-of-factly. ‘In fact, how did you manage to wangle time away from work at the magazines? And didn’t Tracey want you to do the make-up on the set of that new Brit film?’
Diane worked as a freelance photographer and make-up artist – often combining the two – and she was good, very good. They’d first met through Barry, who clearly had some sort of crush on her.
‘Anna, I’d like to introduce you to the next Annie Leibovitz.’ He grinned broadly. ‘She just did a shoot with the one and only…’
Anna had watched them both steadily, waiting.
‘Alice Cooper!’ Diane had eventually announced proudly. ‘And I did his make-up.’
‘But he’s a man,’ Anna commented drily.
‘Yeah, so?’ Her grin faded and she arched an overplucked brow. ‘You want me to do your make-up?’
Barry rested his pudgy hand on Diane’s shoulder. ‘That’s my girl.’
Barry had given them their next job and, as they discussed how best to work London Fashion Week, Diane set about working her magic on Anna’s face. She hadn’t the heart to tell Diane she wasn’t sure the orange lipstick and glitter lashes really suited her, but she had found a soulmate. They went out and danced all night, drank cheap shots, and Anna quickly forgot she looked like a clown as they downed another round of Flaming Sambucas.
Anna glanced at her friend and thought she saw a look of worry cross her pretty features; but then, as quickly as it had arrived, it disappeared and Diane smiled at her. It was good to have her here, Anna thought. Diane looked in the small cosmetic mirror and reapplied her bright-pink lipstick with a steady hand as Anna drove. Smacking her lips, Diane turned in her seat and handed Antonia her lipstick. ‘You want some?’
‘No!’ Anna said, fearing this might be the first step in her daughter losing her childhood. She watched in horror as Antonia pushed the waxy lipstick against her mouth and drew a long line across her cheek, her forehead and back down to her mouth. Freddie laughed and grabbed the lipstick off his sister and roughly slathered the lipstick over his lips and nose. ‘Oh bugger.’ Now her son was experimenting with make-up. Joy.
‘Diane,’ she said crossly, ‘they’re five.’ She gave her a sidelong look. ‘Five.’
‘Yeah, well, they need to learn sometime, don’t they?’ She nodded, taking the stub of lipstick off Freddie. ‘They’re both naturals.’
‘Freddie is a boy.’ Anna turned the car into the Waitrose car park. ‘And now I have children who look like a Harley Street doctor has marked them up for cosmetic surgery.’ She pulled into a space and turned off the engine, before swivelling round in order to get a better look. ‘Oh bloody hell.’
‘Oh, buggy hell,’ Antonia said, clearly having decided her mother swearing wasn’t so bad after all. Anna knew it: lipstick had been a catalyst to puberty.
‘You’re going to have stay here with the children,’ she said to Diane. ‘We can’t go around the supermarket looking like… like this.’
Freddie sliced the air like a ninja. She didn’t have the heart to tell him he was about as far from inconspicuous as a little-boy ninja could possibly be.
Diane nodded. ‘Fine. I’ll tell the children about the latest celebrity I had to make up.’
‘OK. Good.’ Anna grabbed her bag out of the footwell under Freddie’s feet and got out of the car. ‘Who was it, by the way?’ She stood and bent in. ‘Who was the celebrity?’
‘Only Marilyn Manson!’ Diane said delightedly.
Now having second thoughts, Anna was about to suggest that Diane go round the supermarket alone, when Diane pushed a wad of twenties into her hand.
‘Where did you get this money?’ Anna stared at the two hundred-odd pounds in disbelief. ‘Have you robbed a bank?’
‘Have I robbed a bank?’ Diane threw her head back, laughing. ‘Kids, she thinks Auntie Dee-Dee would rob a bank.’
‘No, seriously, have you?’
‘Darling, if I’d robbed a bank, I’d be halfway to the Canary Islands by now, not kipping at my friend’s ramshackle cottage in Twee-ville.’
‘OK, so where? Have you taken out all your savings?’
‘Nope.’ She smiled. ‘Turns out Alice Cooper loved the bat I painted on his left cheek and the fangs I drew on with the kohl, so he found out my address and thanked me personally… Sent me a cheque emblazoned with a chicken. How cute is that?’
‘Cute,’ Anna said drily.
Diane shrugged. ‘Hence, Manson knocking on my counter, so to speak.’ She flung her arms out. ‘Darlings, turns out I am a big hit among the lords of the heavy metal.’ She grinned conspiratorially at Anna. ‘So, when I got your call last night, I figured I’d follow my bestie to Wiltshire and, if it worked and we ended up living together, I’d set up my own business in a shed or something and cater to the heavy metal stars of the shires.’
Anna suppressed a giggle. ‘What you really mean is you’ve been sent by Barry to take photos of me in the countryside and this was an advance?’
‘Yeah,’ she said, sucking her cheeks in in defeat. Then, a moment later, her energy returned and she said, ‘But Alice was telling me he owns a mansion up the road from you and Manson said he lives in Gloucestershire. I mean, seriously, it’ll be big. And what about Osborne? Isn’t his wife British? And, I mean, I’ll do either sex, so to speak. It’s going to be huge.’ She nodded her head defiantly. ‘Epic, in fact.’
Anna closed the car door and walked off, smiling. Diane, the girl who had never been out of London, was in for a shock, she thought, walking past a dozen Jack Russells tied up at the entrance to Waitrose and joining the throng of tweed and wax jackets. She grabbed a trolley and kept her head down, suddenly feeling very out of place in her scruffy denim jacket and I’M NOT SMALL, JUST FUN SIZE long-sleeve T-shirt. She made a mental note to visit Joules.
She started to fill the trolley with fruit and salad, feeling increasingly virtuous and like Mother Earth, until she reached the cake and sweet aisles, whereupon the thin layer of five-a-days was soon covered in Freddie’s favourite biscuits, Antonia’s Gummy Bears and her cake. Diane loved crisps so she picked up a buy-one-get-one-free multipack (she thought it uneconomical not to) and stocked up on spaghetti hoops and ketchup.
She was so busy debating the merits of Waitrose’s own alphabet spaghetti versus Heinz’s, she didn’t notice him until he was almost on top of her.
‘I’m a sucker for them.’
She turned quickly and found herself face to face with Richard. Blushing, she wondered why he had to find her in this aisle, whereas, in a Hollywood film, she would probably have been demurely selecting caviar or a rabbit’s leg. Not bloody alphabet spaghetti.
‘Hi,’ she said. ‘Yeah, me too.’ Lame, she thought. ‘What brings you here?’ She looked down and noticed the bacon and eggs in his hand. ‘Come to woo another woman?’
Oh bugger, did she actually say that out loud?
He smiled. ‘My mother wanted them. You had the food out of the farm shop, but mother doesn’t think anything that hasn’t been through a factory and has Waitrose stamped across the top can be hygienic.’
‘Oh.’ She smiled. ‘Well, we’re awfully grateful.’ She pushed her hand through her hair and leant her weight against the store shelf. ‘It was…’ She opened her mouth and tried to reproduce the same vowel sounds as Richard. ‘It was raaaaahlllly good of you.’
He laughed and winked. ‘You’re very welcome. Hope you can come to the farm sooner rather than later.’
She nodded, her smile quickly fading at the sight of Diane and the twins searching the aisle for her, their faces still covered in lipstick. Worse still, Diane had drawn the previously mentioned Alice Cooper fangs on herself. Oh bugger, thought Anna, she needed to hide. She bent her knees, angling her body behind Richard’s.
‘Everything OK?’ he asked, bemused.
As Diane and the twins marched towards her, she dived headfirst into the pulses. ‘Just remembered I need some kidney beans…’
‘Right.’ He crouched down. ‘Shall I get them for you?’ He handed her the tin at the front.
Anna spotted Diane, feet away, out the corner of her eye. ‘I only like the ones from the back. You know, in case they’ve been tampered with.’ She laughed hysterically and he obligingly shrugged and made his way to the back of the shelf. Anna took the opportunity to catch Diane’s eye and shoo her away, but as Diane neared, she ignored her (Anna had forgotten she was as blind as a bat, but, through vanity, refused to wear glasses), and she mistakenly swatted Richard’s face with her hand as he rose to a standing position.
It was too late.
‘God, sorry,’ Anna said to Richard, shooting Diane evils. ‘Are you OK?’ She flicked her hand. ‘Hand twitch.’
‘Mummy…’ Freddie indicated his sister. ‘Toni just wet her pants.’
Anna righted herself. ‘Why?’
‘Auntie Dee-Dee played the drink water till you wet yourself game.’
Diane hadn’t stopped staring at Richard and offered her hand as if she were the lady of a manor. ‘Diane. How lovely to meet you.’
‘Richard. And I love your costume,’ Richard said kindly. ‘In fact, I love all of your costumes.’
‘Oh this…’ Diane was about to lurch into an explanation but Anna cut her short.
‘Yes, they’re practising for Halloween,’ Anna said, a smile plastered on her face.
‘Excellent.’ Richard nodded at her. ‘So, you’re a vampire and you two are…’
‘Peppa Pig,’ Anna said quickly. ‘Only we didn’t have enough pink for their entire faces.’
Diane scowled. ‘I am not…’
Anna stepped firmly on her toe and Diane let out a squeak. ‘I guess we’d better be going. Farm.’ Anna smiled manically. ‘Soon. Definitely.’ She backed off quickly, taking Diane firmly by the arm.
‘Right, wine and then we go,’ she whispered hotly.
‘God,’ Diane said, her fangs moving up and down as she spoke, ‘what’s got into Compton?’ She peered more closely at Anna, who was busying herself with the label on some Pinot Grigio.
‘Do you know this one?’ Anna held up the bottle. ‘Lychees. It’s got lychees in it. We like lychees, don’t we? Or…’ She moved hurriedly along the aisle. ‘Maybe we should just get more Merlot. I mean, why mix the poisons?’
‘God.’ Diane stepped in front of Anna, blocking her view of the wines. ‘You don’t just think he’s hot. You’re smitten with el Ricardo. Compton’s only gone all mushy and girly on me.’
Anna looked at her. ‘Well, you know, he’s nice. That’s all I’m saying.’
‘He is nice.’ Diane nodded and started chanting under her breath. ‘He is niiiiiiice. Capital N. Capital I. Capital C. Capital E. Nice.’
‘Oh, didn’t realise you were literate,’ Anna said, smiling.
‘Did we ruin your moment?’ Diane grabbed a couple of bottles of Sambuca off the shelf. ‘For old times’ sake.’ She held the bottles up.
‘No.’ Anna went to put them back. ‘That’s not my life any more.’ She looked at the twins.
Diane nodded solemnly, putting them back. ‘You’re right,’ she said, picking up a three-litre box of wine. ‘We must at least pretend not to be alcoholics and there is no easier way than with the silent box. No embarrassing clanking of bottles on recycling day. Oh yes, my friend.’ She held the box up as if in an ad. ‘You too, ladies and gentlemen, can fool your neighbours into thinking you’re a saint.’
Anna burst out laughing. ‘Come on, you. The children need feeding and we need an early night because tomorrow we start on the house.’
‘Meaning?’
She hooked arms with Diane. ‘Meaning mops, dusters and toilet cleaner.’
Diane pulled a face. ‘Top bags dusting.’
Freddie came running back over from the next aisle with a bottle of Captain Morgan in his hands. ‘Mummy, look.’ He put it in the trolley. ‘It’s what pirates drink.’
Diane headed for the checkout. ‘God, I love your kids.’