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  ‘I don’t drink sweet wines,’ she said. Neither of them touched Lisa’s spread. ‘We’re going on to a really good restaurant, later,’ said the Big Breasted Woman.

  Lisa wondered whether a judge would understand if she used a small strawberry flan to batter the Big Breasted Woman to death.

  The hands on the clock seemed to be going backwards. The doorbell rang. Lisa was surprised to see Mark – she’d forgotten she’d invited him. She hadn’t thought he’d come to a boring teenage party. Surely he had better things to do with his time? She’d only thrown the invite out at the last minute. But here he was.

  Kerry, Paula and Jack ran down the stairs. They were so pleased to see him. Mark marched into the front room with a crate of expensive bottled beer and four bottles of champagne.

  ‘I know Paula can’t actually enjoy this but we’ll toast her and she can keep the cork,’ he said. He winked at Paula and passed her an envelope. ‘This is for you to enjoy though.’

  ‘Tickets to a Mika gig!’ She squealed and hugged him. ‘That is just the coolest. Thank you!’

  Lisa stared at Mark, unable to hide from the fact that his arrival had got the party going. When she said so to Carol, Carol shrugged and said, ‘It always does. Haven’t you noticed?’

  No, she hadn’t noticed. She hadn’t given it much thought.

  Back in the living room, things were more relaxed. The kids had all come downstairs to stay, happy to be around Mark. Even the Big Breasted Woman had a smile on her face. Was she trying to pretend to be a nice human being? Well, she could try all she liked. Mark knew better. Lisa had spent many months telling Mark what a horrible person the Big Breasted Woman was. He wasn’t going to be fooled by a flash of white teeth and cleavage. He had more to him than that. Mark wasn’t a white teeth and big boobs sort of man. He couldn’t be, he was with Lisa. Her teeth were greyish. The result of a 1970s childhood and NHS dentists. And her cleavage was nonexistent. Her nickname at school had been ‘Ironing Board’, she was that flat.

  Lisa was handing out glasses of fizz and plates of pastry. The phone rang. She shouted for Paula to answer it.

  ‘It will be for you, Paula. Someone wishing you happy birthday.’

  ‘Like who? Everyone we know is here,’ said Paula. She didn’t want to have to move from in front of the TV.

  Kerry suddenly appeared from nowhere. She snatched up the phone handset, went into the downstairs loo and closed the door with a firm bang.

  ‘All back on with the boyfriend, I guess,’ said Mark to Lisa.

  ‘I suppose so. She hasn’t mentioned anything.’

  ‘Teenagers don’t, do they?’ added Carol. ‘Now come on. Hurry up with that food. Dad thinks his throat has been cut, he’s that hungry.’

  6

  10 October

  The party went well. All the food was eaten and all the drink was drunk and no one hit anyone or even threw any outright insults. A great success as far as a family party went. But things had gone downhill since then.

  Lisa had had a very bad couple of weeks. It seemed unlikely that Kerry had made it up with her boyfriend. After an hour and a half she had come out of the downstairs loo looking weepy. When Lisa asked her what was wrong she said, ‘Nothing!’ But in a way that meant everything. And Paula was a teenager now too, which is never good news for a parent. Jack had been picked for the school football team. This was good news, but Lisa had fallen asleep while watching the match on Saturday. He hadn’t forgiven her for missing his goal. His cold angry silence was different from the girls’ noisy rows, but still awful.

  Lisa rang Carol and confessed to falling asleep on the sidelines.

  ‘Are you ill?’ asked Carol.

  Carol was never ill. She said she hadn’t got time to be ill. She also hadn’t got time for people who were ill. She didn’t say so – she didn’t have to. Her actions spoke louder than words. When Carol’s husband broke his arm last year, she said he’d done it on purpose to get out of painting the front room. Except that Carol called the front room a lounge now. If Bill had slipped on ice and fallen under a moving bike on purpose it didn’t work. Carol made him paint with his left hand. Being ill was a weakness as far as Carol was concerned.

  ‘I have been feeling a bit off,’ said Lisa. ‘I think I have a tummy bug. I’ve a temperature. It comes and goes.’

  ‘Never heard of that,’ said Carol. And because Carol hadn’t heard of it she meant it didn’t exist.

  ‘I’ve been feeling really sick and I’m washed out. I haven’t the energy to deal with moody kids.’

  ‘It’s the Change,’ said Carol. She sounded pleased to have solved the mystery.

  ‘I beg your pardon?’ said Lisa. She was not pleased with this idea at all.

  ‘You’re menopausal. Hot flushes and tiredness are signs. Plus you’ve been really moody recently. You say the kids are moody, but you’re far worse,’ said Carol.

  Lisa was not sure if this was true. But she was not sure if it was untrue either. Last night, watching TV with Mark, she had cried at an advert that had kittens in it. They weren’t being mistreated. They were being fed on the brand that eight out of ten cats prefer. She was being more than a little emotional. She was confused about so many things.

  The children growing up and not needing her was a worry. What would she do with her life after they’d all left home? And what was the matter with Kerry? Shouldn’t she be over her heartbreak by now? It had been days now, and she was a teenager – she should have moved on. Lisa couldn’t think that the DIY course would lead her to a new career. Besides, she didn’t want a new career. She liked her old one. She liked being a mum. She quickly added up how many years it would be before she was a granny. At least another ten. It was too long. Yet at the same time she wasn’t anywhere near ready to be a granny!

  Lisa was also still in pain over her split from Keith. It wasn’t that she still missed him. He hadn’t been that great for quite a few years of her marriage. She’d more or less been on her own for about five years before he left. It just left her feeling too… What was the word? Open? Unprotected? Vulnerable?

  The truth was Lisa was nervous that the party had only got going when Mark arrived. She was enjoying having him around far too much. It couldn’t be a good thing, getting involved with a younger man. He wouldn’t stay forever. She didn’t know why he’d stayed this long. As usual when these thoughts flooded into Lisa’s head, she ignored them.

  ‘I’m too young for the menopause,’ said Lisa, hotly.

  ‘It happens to some people earlier than others,’ said Carol. Was she enjoying this?

  Lisa wanted to ask Carol if early menopause was a family trait. Had Carol been through it? But she was too embarrassed. Carol and Lisa had never, ever talked about anything like that. Between them they’d been through five pregnancies. In all that time they’d pretended to be like Barbie dolls (at least ‘down there’). Sadly, neither of them had Barbie-like pert boobs or tiny waists.

  As soon as Lisa put down the phone she went on the internet and did a search on ‘menopause’. She didn’t like what she found. Maybe she was closer to being a granny than she’d thought! She was getting old before her time. It wasn’t fair!

  Then Lisa called Gill. Lisa knew that Gill was the perfect person to call. Their friendship had really developed in just a few weeks. Lisa could pick up the phone and talk about hot flushes with Gill and be honest.

  ‘What makes you think you’re menopausal?’ asked Gill.

  ‘I went on the web. I looked up the symptoms. I have about thirty of the possible thirty-five!’ Lisa wanted to cry. She didn’t want to get old. Who does?

  ‘Read the list to me,’ said Gill.

  ‘Hot flushes, trouble sleeping and night sweats,’ said Lisa.

  ‘That’s probably just because the totally fab Mark stays over at your place more often than not. You’ve forgotten that it’s sweaty sleeping with someone else in the bed,’ said Gill.

  ‘You paint such a romantic picture,’
said Lisa. She read more from her list. ‘Irregular heartbeat.’

  ‘I’d put that down to Mark too. His smile makes my heart flutter,’ said Gill.

  ‘Mood swings, sudden tears,’ said Lisa.

  ‘Is that a warning?’ asked Gill.

  ‘Irritability,’ Lisa said with some anger. Why couldn’t Gill take this seriously?

  Lisa skipped over the next two symptoms. One was loss of sex drive. She didn’t have a problem there. The other had to do with what her mum called her ‘front bottom’. She couldn’t bring herself to say the words over the phone. Face to face and a glass of wine in hand maybe, but not now.

  Lisa read on. ‘Tiredness, anxiety, feelings of dread, difficulty in concentrating, memory lapses.’

  ‘Lisa, maybe this isn’t the menopause, maybe this is your personality,’ said Gill.

  She was trying to be helpful.

  Gill was not going to be serious. She often laughed when Lisa had a moan. It was one of the things Lisa liked about her. Lisa decided to shut up. She didn’t tell Gill about her sore boobs or mucked-up cycle. The mucked-up cycle had been going on for a couple of months now. Lisa hadn’t wanted to face the fact. What was the point in talking about it? It was the menopause. Cold hard fact. Lisa would pop to Boots and see if there were any vitamins that would help.

  ‘How are things with you?’ Lisa asked to be polite.

  ‘Your brother rang me and asked me for a date,’ said Gill.

  ‘What? I hope you told him where to get off! John’s a cheating, many-timing rat. I wouldn’t wish him on my worst enemy, let alone my new friend. He’s selfish, lazy commitment-phobic and yet women just melt. I don’t get it,’ said Lisa.

  ‘It’s his smile,’ said Gill. ‘He has a lovely smile.’

  ‘Really? I think he always looks smug. Still, well done you, for telling him to hop it,’ said Lisa.

  ‘I said yes, actually,’ said Gill.

  ‘Oh.’

  Although Gill had married, divorced and had kids, she wasn’t like Lisa. Gill hadn’t been worn down with worry about school tests, hearing tests, swimming lessons and other mum stuff. She looked about ten years younger than Lisa and had a decent job as the manager at Next in the High Street.

  The bad news was that she still secretly believed in ‘the one’. Even though she’d rowed with her old ‘one’ about who got the furniture.

  ‘I thought you were OK with this. He said you gave him my number,’ said Gill.

  ‘Well, he lied. Get used to it.’ First of many, no doubt. ‘He must have nosed through my address book while he was babysitting when I was at my night class,’ said Lisa.

  ‘He’s taking me to that new Italian in town,’ said Gill. She sounded happy.

  ‘Order something expensive,’ said Lisa. She sounded cross.

  Since Lisa was fourteen, John had dated a number of her friends. It always ended badly. Lisa’s friends never wanted to admit they’d been taken for a fool or that John was a rat. So, oddly, Lisa always got the blame. She’d lost more friends through John’s romantic adventures than she cared to remember.

  ‘He breaks hearts,’ said Lisa.

  But she knew she was wasting her breath. No one ever learnt from anyone else’s mistakes, and few of us learn from our own. Lisa was not looking forward to another friend getting hurt.

  ‘I don’t think you should go on the date,’ said Lisa.

  Gill was huffy. ‘You need to learn to trust again. Your problem is you can no longer see chance or even goodness anywhere.’

  ‘That’s not true,’ said Lisa, hurt.

  ‘Yes, it is. Look at the way you treat Mark,’ said Gill.

  ‘I don’t treat Mark badly.’

  ‘You hardly know he’s there, Lisa! You’ve just talked about your imaginary menopause for longer than you’ve ever talked to me about Mark.’

  Really? That couldn’t be right, could it?

  ‘You should enjoy this new love,’ said Gill.

  What was she talking about? New love? What did Mark have to do with love? Mark was a fling, a stopgap, something other than Keith. That was all.

  Gill had not finished. ‘And one more thing. You’d better buy a pregnancy test. Just in case.’

  With that she hung up the phone.

  7

  17 October

  Lisa’s boss and his wife had gone on holiday and left Lisa in charge of running the café. She couldn’t believe that Dave trusted her so much. When he’d dropped off the keys at Lisa’s house he had looked worried. Maybe he couldn’t believe he trusted Lisa either.

  Lisa would not be working alone. Betty (who had worked at ‘N Chips’ since forever) was coming in every day to help. She was very old, so she wouldn’t be much help with serving or cleaning. But Betty was great at scaring people into buying things they didn’t really want. She told them chips were good for them. She told them they needed fattening up. People loved it. It was a gift. With Betty around they’d do a good trade.

  This wasn’t a good time for extra duties at work. Lisa was in the middle of a serious ‘can-we-get-a-puppy-for-Christmas?’ debate with Jack.

  ‘I know dogs are for life, not just for Christmas. That’s what I like about them,’ he said over and over again.

  Then he’d look sadly at the picture of his dad that he kept on his bedside table.

  Lisa thought he might be messing around with this emotional blackmail stuff, but she might not be strong enough to turn him down. What if he did need a dog to feel safe and she had ignored his plea? It might not be a scam. Maybe he’d like a Labrador. Lisa told herself she’d lose weight walking it. She didn’t believe Jack would walk the dog – at least, not after the first week, whatever he promised. She wasn’t born yesterday.

  Also, Lisa was fighting early menopause. It was official. When she’d asked the teenager who was serving at Boots if there were vitamins to help with the menopause the teenager hadn’t said, ‘You’re too young!’ She’d just pointed to the shelf. There, Lisa had consulted a professional! Gill was out of her mind to talk about pregnancy tests. Lisa was menopausal, closer to being a granny than a mum.

  Also she had a lot of homework from her DIY course. And her friend was dating her silly, careless brother, and then there was Mark.

  Gill said Lisa took Mark for granted. Was that true? It wasn’t that Lisa was too confident. The opposite! Lisa didn’t want to start to depend on Mark in case he went away. OK, at the moment he was always around. Right now, he was bringing Lisa chocolate. He checked that Jack was using the internet for homework, and just homework! He made Kerry and Paula laugh (often a superhuman thing). But for how long?

  Lisa was worried that Mark’s kindness would not last. She was keeping her distance. Just because he’d never done anything to hurt Lisa yet didn’t mean he was not going to at some point. Did it? Look at Keith.

  But Keith was not a good comparison. Hand on heart, he’d never have got the ‘Husband of the Year’ award. Before running off with the Big Breasted Woman he hadn’t been too bad. He hadn’t beaten her or taken drugs. But he hadn’t been too good either. Keith had never been caring or kind like Mark was. Even before he had left with the Big Breasted Woman, Lisa had often been lonely.

  Lisa thought about Mark all morning. She thought about him as she checked stock, cleaned ovens and fried chips. Paula came into the café at lunchtime with her spotty mates. Lisa made them all eat apples. She had brought the apples from home. Paula rolled her eyes. She said her mum was ‘total sad’. Paula was shy about her mum openly caring. It was a teenage thing. But Lisa knew it was important for kids to eat well. After they had eaten the apples, she gave them all free chips. She knew it was important to be liked!

  Lisa pulled Paula to one side.

  ‘Would you say I’m nice to Mark?’ she asked.

  For once, Paula didn’t pretend not to understand her mum. ‘Does he say you are nice to him?’ she asked.

  ‘I’ve never asked him,’ said Lisa.

  ‘Duh.’ />
  Paula stared at Lisa in the way Lisa stared at Paula when they got her school report. She looked a bit sad and cross. The phrase ‘could try harder’ came to mind.

  ‘You’re not awful to him, I suppose.’ Paula looked at her feet. This talk was costing her. ‘But you don’t seem into him. Like, when’s his birthday?’

  ‘Erm, late March.’ Lisa guessed.

  ‘April the first,’ said Paula. ‘What’s his favourite colour?’

  ‘No idea,’ said Lisa.

  ‘Or his favourite band?’ asked Paula.

  Lisa got the point, so she told Paula to go back to school.

  Lisa’s mum called. She seemed to have forgotten Lisa was forty-two, and felt the need to check up on her as the boss was away.

  ‘Café still standing, is it? You haven’t burnt it down?’ she asked.

  ‘No,’ said Lisa.

  ‘Chip pan fires are very easy to start,’ warned Lisa’s mum.

  ‘We use oven chips,’ Lisa lied.

  The phone call was long and one-sided. Lisa served customers, but she let some sausages burn so she told her mum she needed to go.

  ‘It’s good to know that you’ve got Mark,’ said Lisa’s mum.

  ‘What is this? Love-Mark-Week?’ asked Lisa.

  ‘He’ll help you cash up tonight. He’s good with numbers,’ added her mum.

  ‘And I’m not?’ said Lisa. She sounded a bit cross.

  ‘Well, no, love, you’re not. You’re good with customers. Everyone likes chatting to you. But we both know that you re-sat your maths O level twice.’ And Lisa still hadn’t passed, but her mum didn’t add that. She was not a cruel woman.

  It took Lisa an hour and a half to cash up at the end of the day. It normally took Dave thirty minutes. But it added up in the end, so Lisa was happy. And they had taken a lot of money. It was a good day.

  As Lisa left the café and set the alarm, Mark turned up.