‘It does feel odd, but I have to be advised by the experts.’ Vic shrugged. ‘And if my body is doing what it should be at the moment, then I guess there’s no reason to. The medication isn’t side-effect free, either.’
‘You also have to allow us to support you,’ Orla added. ‘You’re not on your own, mate. And however small the problem may seem, pick up the phone to one of us, OK?’
‘Thank you,’ Vic said quietly, then her voice lifted slightly. ‘What was our mantra, when we went on that crazy weekend at Butlin’s in Bognor?’
‘Oh my God, the one when Orla ended up screwing that clown and got his red nose stuck in her foo-foo, and we all had to go to A&E so someone could pull it out.’ Mandy’s tummy shook as she giggled.
‘And how handsome was the doctor who had the unenviable task of doing that?’ Orla put her hand to her mouth. They all started laughing hysterically.
Vic lifted her glass. ‘I remember what it was.One for all and all for one.’
The others raised theirs too and repeated, ‘One for all and all for one.’
‘I always did fancy D’Artagnan,’ Orla added.
‘That’s an improvement on Coco the Clown, I guess,’ Mandy said, which set them all off again.
TWENTY
WINDSOR
The Lasagne
11 February 2006
‘Mum? What are you doing?’
‘Oh, hello, love.’ Kath Sharpe, wearing rubber gloves and an apron tied tightly around her waist, continued to furiously mop the kitchen floor. Chandler was whining outside the back door, wanting to be let back into the warm.
Vic stood in the kitchen doorway and peered around, dumbfounded. All the kitchen sides were clear of clutter, and even the stainless-steel draining board had a gleam to it – and it brought her right back to days of old. Her mother’s bark of, ‘Shoes off first, madam,’ made her jump.
She smiled in bemusement as Kath Sharpe blurted, ‘I mean, I clean for all these posh, fancy women and this place is a complete and utter shambles. I should be ashamed of myself.’ Kath then let out a big sigh, took the mop out of the bucket and tipped the dirty water down the sink. Grabbing a tea towel, she opened the back door, greeted her beloved pooch with a stroke,then lifted his paws to wipe them of any mud he may have picked up whilst charging around outside.
‘This is 28, Simpson Crescent, isn’t it?’ Vic grinned. ‘Am I in the right house?’
Kath whipped off her apron. ‘You cheeky mare. I wasn’t expecting you this weekend, was I?’
‘No, Mum.’ Vic took a deep breath. ‘I just needed to get out of London.’
‘How are you feeling, darling?’ Kath threw the dirty tea towel into the washing machine.
Tail wagging furiously, Chandler leapt up at Vic’s legs until she picked him up and cradled him like a baby. ‘Aww, my precious boy.’ The little dog scrabbled until she put him back down.
‘So, you’re feeling OK, Vic?’ Kath repeated.
‘Umm. Yes, I’m all right.’ Despite it being wonderful that her mother was for once showing interest in her only daughter, Vic cringed inside. The drama that would ensue if she told her just wasn’t worth it. She’d rather simply be here, in the familiar family home, with her secret safe inside. Sleeping in her old single bed with a dip in it, pretending that nothing had changed. It had been a relief to see Dr Anna earlier in the week, and to be told that nothing had changed with her viral load or CD4 count since the last check, and to just continue as normal until their next appointment in three months’ time.
‘And how’s that Nate? I haven’t seen him for ages. Last summer, wasn’t it? You two went off Monday night horse racing?’
‘Umm. He’s the same as usual.’ Just hearing his name made Vic want to burst into tears. For, even though they had long been like ships passing in the night, she had been missing him greatly. It was sad and a little strange that when they had been together, knowing someone had been coming home to her, at whatever time, had been enough for her not to feel alone. Butnow that void was huge, and her nights quite often devoid of sleep. And as much as she probably should share her feelings of woe, Vic wasn’t ready to open up that whole assortment of problems either – not yet, anyway.
Just thinking of her ex-love gave her the sudden urge to message him and tell him that her mum could actually be sober. He was one of the only people who would really get the significance of that for her. But to what end? And why would he care now, anyway?
Kath filled the kettle. ‘Let me make us a nice pot of tea. I got some chocolate digestives when I went shopping this morning, too. Note to self: don’t shop on a Saturday, especially not the weekend before Valentine’s Day. It was packed everywhere.’
Romance being the last thing on her mind at the moment, Vic hadn’t even registered what date it was. ‘Tea and biscuits sounds lovely, thanks, Mum.’ She opened the back door under the pretence of wanting to run up and down the lawn with Chandler and took a quick look in the recycle bin – no bottles. Then opened the dustbin and lifted the bin bag in there and shook it – no glass clanking in there, either.
After she had checked the little fella’s paws for mud, they went back inside.
