Total keener . . .
‘We’re just getting ready, Mum.’ It was her turn to point out the obvious, which was actually code forleave us alone.
‘I can see that, love.’ This, code fordon’t be so bloody rude. ‘Just wanted to know if you would like something to eat? I’ve got a shepherd’s pie in the oven, or I can make you both a sandwich? I’ve got fish paste or sandwich spread.’
Remy felt a little mean for wishing her mum would disappear when she’d only come to offer them food.
‘I’m okay, thanks, Mum.’
‘I’m okay too, thank you, Mrs Brett.’ Tony smiled.
‘And your dad says do you need a lift anywhere?’
Her dad was always on standby to run them around whenever they needed it. It was evident that he rather liked being their taxi, any excuse to hop into his blue Ford Escort; he could scarcely disguise his disappointment when Tony had passed his driving test.
‘I’ve got my mum’s car. But thank you.’ Tony was so polite. Remy pulled a face at him.
‘Did you know your sister called earlier?’
‘No.’ She held her eyeliner still, waiting to hear whatever tidbit of news Ashleigh had shared.
‘She’s going to a ball with that boy she likes! A ball!’
‘Like Cinderella?’ Remy couldn’t help herself. It was typical of Ashleigh, who, the last time she had come home on one of her brief visits, had displayed a whole new level of airs and graces. She had been this way since she’d met Archie Fitch, or rather since she’d become an item with Archie Fitch, who, her dad had rather delightfully pointed out, had not been born with a silver spoon in his mouth but a whole canteen of cutlery. He certainly didn’t sound like Remy’s cup of tea, the yuppy. It had irritated her beyond belief, hearing Ashleigh drone on and on to her and Tony about Archie bloody Fitch!
A ball!What was that other than a fancy name for a big old gathering, and one where tickets cost considerably more than if they’d just called it a party?
‘Don’t be like that!’ Her mother tutted. ‘Be pleased for her. It’s the circles she mixes in now.’ Remy shared a look of amusement with Tony, who was the circleshemixed in. ‘She’s got a black taffeta off-the-shoulder frock with a big bow at the back. I bet she’ll look beautiful.’
‘She will.’ At least on this Remy could agree.
‘And did you see the picture of Princess Diana and the new baby?’ This Ruthie addressed to Tony, knowing he was as much of an admirer as she was.
‘I did. I loved that green on her,’ he enthused.
‘Oh, me too, and I said to Den, someone’s done her hair. It was gorgeous. She looked tired, mind.’ Her mother spoke as if it were her concern to have.
‘I said the same.’ Tony sighed, as if he were Ruthie’s companion, not hers! ‘But I guess she has an excuse, having just given birth to the little prince!’
‘Ah, yes, William! Lovely name. What a smashing, happy little family they all are. Her and Charles, a real-life fairy tale!’
‘Really is.’
Remy bit her lip rather than express her bemusement at just how these two people she adored could be so interested in the lives of complete strangers.
‘Righto. Well, I’ll leave you to it.’ Her mum retreated, smile fixed, and closed the door behind her.
‘Which lipstick?’ Tony ran his hand through their shared make-up bag, selecting their favoured Rimmel lippy in Heather Shimmer, which they liked to top off with a clear lip gloss, the applicator stick of which was a rather curious shade of red/pink, and the once transparent contents of the tube were now decidedly murky.
‘Yes.’ She nodded her approval. ‘If ever there was a night for Heather Shimmer, it’s this one.’
As they made their way downstairs, excitement fizzed in her veins, as it always did at the prospect of a night out.
‘Don’t get separated,’ her mother instructed over her shoulder as she scrubbed baked-on mash from the shepherd’s pie tin, her orange Marigolds going like the clappers.
‘We won’t,’ Tony replied.
‘And don’t be too late, Remy. You know I don’t like you being out when we’re asleep in case you need anything.’
