time Tina called.
‘Martha, Martha, what’s happened to you?’
‘Don’t ask me,’ I sobbed, half undressed and flat on the floor in an effort to pull myself together. ‘Just don’t ask, OK?’
‘You’re ill.’ And yes, I must have looked close to death, with my face so blotched, my hair wild and witchy, while Tina stood there with not a strand out of place, slim and together in her silver shell suit. ‘You’re either ill or you’ve been doing battle.’ Tina stood back and stared down at me, her eyebrows raised like distant seagulls.
‘Battle,’ I muttered, ‘and I lost.’
‘Come on, Martha, have a soak in the bath and come over to my place for a brandy. Where are your kids? Or is that it? You’ve dismembered them and hidden their bodies?’
It was then that I broke down completely, great fat sobs and bubbles streaming from my nose and mouth. I cried out dementedly, ‘Don’t mention the kids to me. I’m no mother.’
‘It can’t be that bad.’ Tina stooped to gather me in her capable arms. Her deck shoes were in a matching silver and so was the sporty band in her hair.
‘ Don’t touch me, don’t touch me …’
She recoiled in shock. ‘But, Martha, what on earth…?’
I lost control of my face completely. It collapsed in miserable folds like a bloodhound on the scent. ‘There’s no-one to blame but me,’ I sobbed, ‘and that’s the worst thing about it.’
I needed to talk but what words could I use and what about the malicious rumours that might circle round the Close?
I supposed I could try, ‘I’ve just been to bed with another woman…’ Or, ‘My neighbour has just made love to me – she’s devoted to me, by the way…’
And who would believe my pitiful excuse? ‘I never dreamed it would go that far. She got into bed for a cuddle.’ Yes, a cuddle that quickly got out of hand.
I loathed myself for my weakness. I was withered up like a dead leaf.
I started in the simplest way. ‘You’re not going to believe this, Tina.’
‘You’ve got me wrong, sweetheart,’ she said. ‘I believe anything.’
‘Can I ask you a personal question?’
‘Go on,’ she said, but she looked jittery.
‘Have you ever been to bed with a woman?’
She began to crow with relieved laughter. ‘My God, Martha, is that all? What d’you want me to say – how could you? ’
‘It’s not funny. It’s a long way from funny…’ And I picked myself up with some semblance of dignity. I pulled up my socks for a start.
‘Don’t tell me,’ said Tina, ‘let me guess. Jennie. I knew it. I suspected she had lesbian tendencies.’
My eyes might have turned in Tina’s direction, but I concentrated firmly on the wall behind her. This was such personal stuff. ‘Jesus, I’m shaking. I’m still in shock. And Jennie, God knows what she’s thinking now.’
‘But what were you doing down there on the floor?’
‘I reached this far, but my legs gave way.’
‘So what was it like?’ Tina reached for the bottle, the half-empty bottle of wine on the bar.
I refused the glass she offered. ‘No more, never, I’m now teetotal.’
‘Was she good with her hands?’
This wasn’t a joke. ‘This is serious, Tina, if only you knew…’
‘But I don’t, so why don’t you tell me?’
‘Jennie’s at home now, hugging herself, thinking her love is reciprocated. She’s probably convinced herself she’s a dyke, but this is something far deeper than that…’
‘If Jennie thinks you enjoyed yourself, you must have given her that impression.’
I perched on a stool at the breakfast bar, running my hands through my crazy hair and wishing like hell I could take back time. In one way I was grateful for Tina’s light-hearted reaction, but she’d got it so wrong it worried me sick. It wasn’t simply the fact of what had happened, it was the future implications.
Christ, this was hard to talk about. I moved across to the sink and splashed cold water on my face. That was better. Tina
‘Martha, Martha, what’s happened to you?’
‘Don’t ask me,’ I sobbed, half undressed and flat on the floor in an effort to pull myself together. ‘Just don’t ask, OK?’
‘You’re ill.’ And yes, I must have looked close to death, with my face so blotched, my hair wild and witchy, while Tina stood there with not a strand out of place, slim and together in her silver shell suit. ‘You’re either ill or you’ve been doing battle.’ Tina stood back and stared down at me, her eyebrows raised like distant seagulls.
‘Battle,’ I muttered, ‘and I lost.’
‘Come on, Martha, have a soak in the bath and come over to my place for a brandy. Where are your kids? Or is that it? You’ve dismembered them and hidden their bodies?’
It was then that I broke down completely, great fat sobs and bubbles streaming from my nose and mouth. I cried out dementedly, ‘Don’t mention the kids to me. I’m no mother.’
‘It can’t be that bad.’ Tina stooped to gather me in her capable arms. Her deck shoes were in a matching silver and so was the sporty band in her hair.
‘ Don’t touch me, don’t touch me …’
She recoiled in shock. ‘But, Martha, what on earth…?’
I lost control of my face completely. It collapsed in miserable folds like a bloodhound on the scent. ‘There’s no-one to blame but me,’ I sobbed, ‘and that’s the worst thing about it.’
I needed to talk but what words could I use and what about the malicious rumours that might circle round the Close?
I supposed I could try, ‘I’ve just been to bed with another woman…’ Or, ‘My neighbour has just made love to me – she’s devoted to me, by the way…’
And who would believe my pitiful excuse? ‘I never dreamed it would go that far. She got into bed for a cuddle.’ Yes, a cuddle that quickly got out of hand.
I loathed myself for my weakness. I was withered up like a dead leaf.
I started in the simplest way. ‘You’re not going to believe this, Tina.’
‘You’ve got me wrong, sweetheart,’ she said. ‘I believe anything.’
‘Can I ask you a personal question?’
‘Go on,’ she said, but she looked jittery.
‘Have you ever been to bed with a woman?’
She began to crow with relieved laughter. ‘My God, Martha, is that all? What d’you want me to say – how could you? ’
‘It’s not funny. It’s a long way from funny…’ And I picked myself up with some semblance of dignity. I pulled up my socks for a start.
‘Don’t tell me,’ said Tina, ‘let me guess. Jennie. I knew it. I suspected she had lesbian tendencies.’
My eyes might have turned in Tina’s direction, but I concentrated firmly on the wall behind her. This was such personal stuff. ‘Jesus, I’m shaking. I’m still in shock. And Jennie, God knows what she’s thinking now.’
‘But what were you doing down there on the floor?’
‘I reached this far, but my legs gave way.’
‘So what was it like?’ Tina reached for the bottle, the half-empty bottle of wine on the bar.
I refused the glass she offered. ‘No more, never, I’m now teetotal.’
‘Was she good with her hands?’
This wasn’t a joke. ‘This is serious, Tina, if only you knew…’
‘But I don’t, so why don’t you tell me?’
‘Jennie’s at home now, hugging herself, thinking her love is reciprocated. She’s probably convinced herself she’s a dyke, but this is something far deeper than that…’
‘If Jennie thinks you enjoyed yourself, you must have given her that impression.’
I perched on a stool at the breakfast bar, running my hands through my crazy hair and wishing like hell I could take back time. In one way I was grateful for Tina’s light-hearted reaction, but she’d got it so wrong it worried me sick. It wasn’t simply the fact of what had happened, it was the future implications.
Christ, this was hard to talk about. I moved across to the sink and splashed cold water on my face. That was better. Tina
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