21
‘You’re sure it’s OK?’ Jenny looked over her shoulder at her reflection. ‘It’s not too, you know, severe?’
David shook his head. ‘Not at all. It’s smart.’
‘I quite like how 1950s it looks.’ She smoothed her hair back from her face. ‘It looks better if I get my hair out of my eyes. Fred?’
‘Weren’t you talking about getting it cut?’ Freddie replied.
‘Oh, I was probably talking about it, but I’ll never get round to it.’ She shrugged at him. Then, as David’s eyes drifted to the frizzy tendrils dangling over her shoulders. ‘Unless you really think I should get it cut? Should I, David?’
‘Well, you could probably do with it,’ he admitted. ‘Why not go to that hairdresser next door now and see if they can fit you in?’
Jenny frowned doubtfully at him. ‘That’s, like, a designer place; even if they have any space I couldn’t afford it after buying this. No. I’ll wear my split ends with pride! You’re sure the other suit won’t do?’ she spoke to them both, but David answered.
‘No. This is the suit you should get. Definitely.’
When she went back into the changing rooms, David turned to Freddie. ‘Will you tell her to get her hair cut? Let it be my treat?’
‘She won’t let you,’ Freddie told him. ‘And I couldn’t make her either. I can’t make her do anything. Don’t even try. That way madness lies.’
Jenny called from the changing room. ‘I’m just trying on these shirts too! Listen, you guys go to the pub and I’ll see you there in ten minutes.’
Both men nodded and smiled awkwardly. Both David and Freddie had assumed they were would be spending the evening alone with Jenny, and they were feeling the strain of the other’s company. They’d arrived separately to meet her from her placement at only to find her tiredly confused and apologetic. ‘God, I must have double-booked, sorry! I thought I was meeting Fred tomorrow and you today… But listen, let’s go out together for a drink? I have to do some shopping before though. I need a suit for this interview? With the council? I told you about it, didn’t I? God… my memory is terrible. Too much going on.’
They walked stiffly to The Bristolian – a pub over the street – David held the door open so that Freddie had to duck and scuttle under his arm. It gave him a disagreeable feeling, as though he was being treated like a child.
They found a booth by the door. David frowned at the walls plastered with posters, at the wide, horseshoe-shaped bar. One finger tapped on the table, picked at the varnish that had bubbled with age. It was Freddie who broke the silence.
‘I haven’t been in the place in years.’ He looked around. ‘Believe it or not, they’ve tidied it up a lot. It used to be a kind of punk place. Gigs on and all that.’ David nodded politely, and tore a stretch of varnish off the table. It curled like flayed skin. ‘So, how’s your mother?’
‘Fine. Well, not fine, but, you know.’
‘Is she mobile? I mean do you need help in the house and—’
‘What I can’t work out is how she’s going to keep working at the – what is it called – illness centre—’
‘Oh, you mean Jenny? It’s the Wellness Centre.’
‘“Wellness Centre”.’ David’s voice was ever so slightly tinged with vitriol. ‘As well as working full-time and keeping up with college. How will she manage it?’
‘She’s very resilient you know,’ Freddie told him. ‘She’ll just make it happen, that’s all, even if it means hardly sleeping, and working all the hours God sends. It’s a real vocation.’
‘I just can’t see how she can do it.’ David shook his head. ‘She’ll collapse.’
Freddie smiled reassuringly. ‘She won’t though. She knows what she wants now, and she knows how to get it, but you know, there’s sacrifices to be made on the way, and that’s what she’ll do. She’s very determined, very tough when it comes down to it. So, don’t worry about her too much, OK?’
David made a noise, somewhere in the middle of dour cynicism and impatience, and Freddie’s attempt at establishing a rapport, already terminal, died there.
When Jenny swung through the door, both men were mightily relieved.
‘OK, so, that’s the suit I’m going to get!’
‘Where is it then?’ Freddie asked.
‘Aha, I have A Plan,’ she told him. ‘So, I tried it on in the shop to see what it looked like, but I’ll actually buy it on eBay for loads less money. You see?’ She tapped her head. ‘Always thinking.’
‘You’re a rara avis my love,’ Freddie said.
‘I’m a skint rara avis. But I can still buy you each a drink, what’ll you have?’
‘No, I’ll get them – David?’
‘Anything. No. No, just a juice.’ He got up distractedly. ‘I just need to go out for a few minutes.’ And he shouldered his way out of the door.
‘I think it’s his mum,’ Jenny said after a pause. ‘He’s worried about her. He’s left her today with an agency nurse, and had a few nightmares with them in the past, and Catherine doesn’t respond well to change, and so strangers in the house… they throw her.’
‘Have you met her?’
Jenny hesitated, nodded. ‘I have. Last week. She’s lovely. It’s really sad.’
‘You didn’t tell me you’d met her.’
Jenny winced apologetically. One finger tapped the torn bubble of varnish. ‘David is… private. I think it’s been so hard taking care of her, harder than he thought it would be, and he feels a bit guilty that he finds it hard. I asked to meet her because I thought it might help him if he shared his feelings a bit. It’s lonely, looking after a sick parent, and David… well, I don’t think he confides in many people. He doesn’t have a Freddie.’
‘Not sure he wants a Freddie.’
‘Everyone wants a Freddie.’ She twinkled at him.
‘I think he’s a bit pissed off that I’m here,’ Freddie admitted. ‘I think he wanted you all to himself tonight.’
‘Well, maybe I was a bit economical with the truth,’ she admitted. ‘I kind of deliberately double-booked you. I just wanted you to get to know each other in a more casual way, not at dinner or anything like that, just, oh, hey, let’s have a quick drink – that kind of thing. Don’t tell him that, though, will you?’
Freddie shook his head. ‘It’s backfired then. He doesn’t seem very comfortable with me.’ Jenny nodded soberly.
Jenny nodded soberly. ‘I thought that might happen, but it’s shyness, honestly. He really likes you; he told me. And he knows that wherever I go, you’re there too.’
‘Like an evil twin?’
‘Exactly like an evil twin.’ She smiled. ‘Don’t get paranoid. He’s... he’s a bit stiff, but he really is lovely, you’re lovely, and that’s it. Right!’ She slapped the table. ‘I’m going to get drinks.’ And she disappeared into the lounge bar, where the bar staff lurked, and reappeared ten minutes later with a tray of drinks and two packets of crisps clasped in her teeth that she dropped on the tabletop.
‘David not back?’
‘Nope.’ Freddie tore the crisp bags open and arranged them fussily on the table.
‘I’ll give him a call… oh, wait, he’s texted me.’ She frowned at her phone. ‘Oh, what?’
‘What?’ Freddie said through a mouthful of crisps. ‘Is he all right? He’s not gone home has he? I told you he didn’t want me here.’
‘No, he’s not gone home, but I tell you what he has done.’ She looked up from her phone. ‘He’s bought me that suit! And booked me an appointment to get my hair cut!’
‘Bloody hell!’
‘I know!’ She stared at the phone again. ‘How lovely is that?’ Then she sat down. ‘I can’t accept it though. I can’t. Can I?’
‘Why not?’
‘It was £200, that’s why not.’
And at that moment, David came through the door, so boyish and charming that Freddie found himself smiling back. He swung three carrier bags onto the tabletop, and wagged one finger at Jenny.
‘Now don’t tell me off. I couldn’t let you buy a second-hand suit, it’s just not right. So,’ he opened the first bag, ‘here’s the two that you liked – you can’t just have one suit, can you?’
Freddie opened his mouth, tried to catch Jenny’s eye, but she was stroking the suit, eyes soft, cheeks pink with happiness.
‘And obviously you needed shirts, so I bought these three – I think the shade is perfect for you, and they’re nicely fitted. I asked the saleswoman and she agreed that, with your colouring, you can wear blue. Any kind of blue looks lovely on you!’ His voice rose with excitement. He handed Jenny a bag filled with boxes. ‘And here are some shoes. Again, I thought it would be best to just buy all three pairs. I looked at them, and they were all perfect and they all work well with each suit. And these,’ he handed her a wrapped box, ‘I just thought they were special. They’re just for fun. Hope you like them.’ He sat back, still with that smile on his face, looking like an expectant puppy.
Jenny opened the box, her mouth fell open, her cheeks pinkened.
‘What is it? Show me!’ Freddie leaned over. ‘Jesus.’ He stared at the shoes, stared at David. ‘I’ve seen enough drag shows to know they’re Louboutin.’
David flinched ever so slightly, but kept his eyes on Jenny. She didn’t say anything, so he asked anxiously: ‘I did get the right sizes in everything, didn’t I? I can go back and change things if—’
Jenny drew out one of the Louboutins, turned it over, and watched her reflection swim back at her from the red lacquer. ‘Wow.’
‘Do you like them?’ David asked eagerly.
‘They’re gorgeous. It’s all—’
He interrupted her. ‘So your hair appointment is in half an hour. And after that why don’t we have some dinner? Not here, obviously.’ He looked around at the pub with visible distaste. ‘But anywhere you’d like really. Somewhere nice.’
‘I just can’t believe you did this.’ She dragged her eyes from the shoes and looked up at David. Then she glanced at Freddie. ‘But I can’t—’
‘You can.’ David was firm.
‘Well will you let me—?’
‘Pay me back? No.’ He sat back, took a sip of his juice. ‘All of this is really down to Freddie anyway.’
‘What?’ Freddie asked.
David smiled, with just a touch of condescension. ‘Something you said made a real impression on me. “Knowing what you want and going for it”?’
‘Well, I meant… I was talking about Jen, and the career and all that…’ Freddie trailed off confusedly. ‘I didn’t mean buy the shop.’
‘No, it was very useful. I took it to heart, really.’ He looked at his phone. ‘So, shall we eat? What’s a nice place, Freddie? What would you recommend?’
‘There’s a nice Thai place round the corner?’ Freddie answered weakly. ‘We went there on a work do once, the all you can eat buffet is nice and—’
David wrinkled his nose. ‘No. I think we can do better than that. I’ll just nip outside to make a call. It’s too… loud in here, don’t you think? Why does the music have to be so loud?’ And he bounded out of the door again, leaving Jenny and Freddie facing the boxes and bags strewn on the table.
‘Bloody hell,’ Freddie managed after a while.
‘I know.’ Jenny opened the shoebox again, took a dreamy peek. ‘The shoes alone are £300.’
‘What’re you going to do? I mean—’
‘Jenny?’ A man with a greying mullet and a Celtic Frost T-shirt shambled towards them. ‘Sal’s kid? Jenny? Dougie? Remember me?’
Jenny froze, half turned. ‘Hey, Dougie.’
‘Boyfriend?’ He nodded at Freddie.
‘Just a friend,’ she answered tightly.
‘And how’s Sal getting on now then?’
‘She’s dead,’ Jenny said shortly. Then she stood, picked up the bags.
‘Christ! What? Sal?’ Dougie wobbled in his boots. ‘How? How’d that happen then?’
‘Got to go, Dougie.’ Jenny got up quickly. ‘Freddie, come on.’ She pointed at the door. Freddie nodded dumbly to Dougie, and followed Jenny out like a dog.
‘Who was that then?’ Jenny didn’t hear him. She was casting about in the darkening street, looking for David. ‘Jen? Who was that? Why’d we have to leave?’
‘Just some… old friend of Mum’s. One of the old gang. Marc and all those types.’ Her mouth tightened with distaste. ‘One of those bastards.’ She shivered. ‘Where’s David got to then?’
‘Call him?’
‘No, better not, he doesn’t like to be called,’ she answered absently. ‘We’ll just wait. That’s all.’
‘Well can’t we wait inside? It’s freezing out here. What d’you mean he doesn’t like to be called?’
‘He just— He just doesn’t like to be called, that’s all,’ Jenny said shortly. ‘And I don’t need Dougie and his old crew asking about Mum.’
‘How come he didn’t know? About Sal I mean.’
‘I don’t know, Fred. Maybe he missed the leaflet drop. Or maybe I didn’t fancy inviting every dodgy drunk she used to knock about with to the funeral?’
‘All right.’ Freddie’s voice was hurt. ‘I didn’t mean anything—’
‘No. You didn’t mean anything.’ Her voice was hard. Then she looked at him, and it softened. ‘I know you didn’t. I’m sorry. It just… it freaks me out when I see people from all those years ago, that’s all. It makes me think I haven’t come that far after all.’ She smiled tightly, but it was still a smile. She checked her phone. ‘I have to get to the hair salon. Here, can you take one of the bags?’
‘What are you going to do about all this stuff?’ Freddie asked, puffing under the weight of the bag as they trotted across the road.
‘I can’t keep it. Can I?’
It was difficult to gauge her meaning. Was she asking for his permission, or stating a fact? He looked at her pale face, sad now. The wind streaked around the corner, blowing her hair back from her forehead, exposing her creased forehead, her pinched eyebrows.
‘I can’t, can I? Keep this stuff?’ she asked again.
And Freddie thought about Dodgy Dougie and His Old Crew. Such a sinister phrase. It sounded like a pub band from the 70s, reformed after serving their sentences for various sex crimes… The Old Gang. What must it be like to be Jenny? To have a past like that, all those demons, all that pain. So close to happiness, but never quite reaching it… and so he did what he knew would make her feel good. ‘Yes, you can,’ he told her. ‘You deserve everything good Jen. He wants to buy you nice things and, well, you deserve nice things.’ She looked so grateful that he went further. ‘He’s really... nice. David, he really is.’
‘He is, isn’t he? I know he’s a bit… old-fashioned, but he really gives a shit, you know? And there haven’t been many of them in my life. It’s just been you, really. And now him, and—’
‘Speak of the devil!’ Freddie was relieved to see David bearing down on them. He didn’t especially want to carry on singing David’s praises, or listen to Jenny doing it either.
He accompanied them as far as the salon door, and then made his excuses. Early meeting. Presentation. Prep to do beforehand.
‘Oh, Fred, don’t go,’ Jenny said anxiously.
‘Yes, can’t you stay out a little longer? Have dinner?’ David was less convincing. ‘I managed to get a table at the new place on the wharf. It’s meant to be very good.’
Freddie paused for a second. That place is Michelin starred…
Then his phone rang, and Barbra Streisand had her predictable effect on David. He stiffened, and when Freddie silenced the phone, shuddered.
‘No, I’d love to, but I just can’t,’ Freddie said firmly. ‘But have fun, and, Jen, send me a picture of your hair after? And tell them to go easy on the product. Serum is not your friend.’
As he left he heard David giving Jenny precise haircut instructions: ‘Only an inch or two off the length but layers for body. And a conditioning treatment…’