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‘I haven’t told him yet and I suspect his father hasn’t either because he’ll be in a state of denial. I know how his mind works. He’ll ignore the divorce papers in the hope that I’vethrown a hissy fit and when I calm down I’ll’ – Les drew two wiggly apostrophes in the air with her fingers – ‘?“come to my senses”, even though I already have. I’m expecting him to pull a few stunts, but he can’t stop the divorce happening whatever he has up his sleeve. But, if he plays ball, gives me a decent cash payout and lets me have a quick divorce, I’ll not go for half the house and I’ll leave his pension alone. You’ll know when the penny’s dropped because he’ll contact you in the hope you can talk me round.’ She gave a one-sided smile at that with her new lips.
‘Have you spoken to him since you walked out?’
Lesley tossed her Miss Piggy hair back over her shoulder and cleared her mouth of Lollo Rosso before answering.
‘He’s left a lot of voicemails, I haven’t listened to them. I never do. Anyway, what’s the point when the conversation would only consist of him saying “Come back” and me saying “No”. I’m paying a solicitor to do all the talking for me. When you hire a dog you don’t bark yourself, do you?’
Shay had her friend’s back, of course, but Morton must be in a proper state, she reckoned. Just walking out without any explanation was a terribly cruel way to end things.
‘He must be…’ Shay picked her words carefully. Les could be combustible. ‘… a little confused, maybe?’
‘Oh come on, Shay. If he doesn’t know by now why I’m divorcing him, he never will. I’ve tried for too many years to polish that particular turd.’
‘What reasons are you citing?’ asked Shay, figuring that the inability to polish a turd was not acceptable grounds for divorce.
‘Unreasonable behaviour,’ replied Lesley, wrinkling up her nose, as if it was obvious. ‘Never again do I have to listen to him burping like a warthog and watch him savouring hisown farts; oh, you have no idea how blissful my life is now. I’ve seen better-dressed scarecrows in fields than him. He’s a crude, repulsive, embarrassing…’ She made a shudder of disgust but ended the list there before she put herself off her anchovies. Then she held up a perfectly white palm which contrasted sharply with the teak-sideboard shade on the back of her hand.
‘And if you’re about to say that I’m a bitch, save your breath.’
‘As if, Les,’ Shay deflected that accusation, though it had to be said, she did feel sorry for Morton because Les was being really harsh. Morton idolised her and wouldn’t have seen this coming. He might been more Boris Karloff than Liam Neeson but he’d always been a hard grafter, faithful, generous and was a more hands-on father than Bruce had ever been. He’d taken Little Mort fishing every Sunday and, when Mort was feeling a bit crap about himself and blimpy, he’d whisked him off to a boxing gym to help knock his lad into some shape. Morton had also relished that his son was as much a dyed-in-the-wool builder as he was and was set to join the trade. He’d enjoyed teaching him all his skills but, unlike his own builder father, he’d still made sure he buckled down at school. Little Mort had singlehandedly built Courtney a wooden summer house in their garden when he was fourteen and she a year younger. Rather surprisingly her queen-of-cool daughter had always had a massive, sisterly soft spot for the big gauche lad. She’d even been known to bash people for saying he was thick.
Les gave the remainder of her salad a rousing twist of black pepper.
‘I’ve only ever been out with one person and so now I’m going to make up for lost time and see what I missed. You’reonly here once, after all,’ she said with an emphatic nod. ‘I wish I could turn the clock back. I’d have an abortion and stay single.’
‘Lesley!’ Shay was horrified.
‘Oh, you know what I mean.’ Les’s expression said she knew she’d gone too far with that admission. ‘Look, much as I wouldn’t harm a hair on my son’s head, I think a part of me has always resented him, you know, because I wouldn’t have married Morton if I hadn’t got pregnant. And I know it takes two to tango, but I’ve thought a lot about this over the years and I’m totally convinced he put holes in the johnnies deliberately with his teeth when he tore them out of the wrapper. He was always going on about having babies and a family and doing it all properly, not like how his parents dragged him up. I’d have been permanently up the duff if I hadn’t gone on the pill. I know he trapped me is what I’m saying.’
‘But you loved him when you got together, I know you did.’
‘I thought I did. You and Tanya were so much prettier than I was and spare me any tripe to the contrary because you bloody know you were. No boy ever looked at me twice except Morton who wouldn’t take no for an answer. He made me feel… desirable, like you must have felt hundreds of times. It was very intoxicating.’
‘Slight exaggeration,’ Shay laughed that off.
‘I don’t think so.’
Shay didn’t try a further denial. It was embarrassing sometimes how much attention she and Tan got from boys in and out of college. In Tanya’s case because she was stunning, in Shay’s case – she reckoned – because she just wasn’t interested in anyone and that pandered to their maledesire to conquer. Not that Lesley helped herself. She’d had a strange pudding-basin haircut and thought make-up was stupid. She wouldn’t wear skirts because she said her legs were too thick then wore tops that were too tight and showcased her puppy fat. She’d had eyebrows like woolly bear caterpillars when they first met, until Tan had attacked them with her tweezers. Les was the clown in their group, funny, sharp-witted, a wicked mimic, but both Shay and Tan knew Les would have traded her personality for looks any day of the week.
‘Anyway, enough about me. How’s things with you?’ asked Les. ‘How’s your mum?’
Shay had been going to ask Lesley today if she could pop over to the farmhouse and talk to Morton about the Balls and their building work but she could hardly do that now.
‘She’s… doing okay. Bit forgetful and gets things mixed up. She was telling me she was a Russian spy yesterday. She believed every word of it too.’ Shay gave a little laugh, half-fond, half-sad.
‘Oh, bless her. Do you still go over every day?’
‘Yep, at least once. Sometimes I have to stay overnight.’
‘Jeez. I don’t know how you manage to do that.’
‘You just do, Les.’
‘And how’s your dad?’
‘No change.’
‘That’s a shame,’ said Les. ‘I was lucky, if you can call it that, that my parents didn’t have lingering illnesses. Mum was there one minute and gone the next and Dad followed her so quickly that I’m sure he must have died of a broken heart. I don’t think he ever got over losing her so I cheer myself up by thinking they’re together now. I have to say though I do like the feeling of freedom. Unlike you, I don’thave any other person to worry about. I can properly breathe for the first time in years. No parents to worry about, no husband, no kid.’
