Charlotte Butterfield

Me, You and Tiramisu


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was stunned; she’d clearly underestimated the depths to which her mother could sink to. ‘Um, yes. Please, one for Will and me. Rachel will just have black. Um, Stanley, what else did my mum say about our, um, time in, er, Iraq?’

      ‘Oh don’t worry about me, my love, all your secrets are safe with me.’ He mimed zipping up his mouth, locking it at the corner and slipping the imaginary key into his breast pocket. ‘What you girls are doing for our little country, it’s admirable. I was a year too young to fight the Germans, more’s the pity, and so I have nothing but awe for you two.’ His eyes started to look a little watery, ‘We’re just both thrilled that you came today. I know that you only get leave every few years, which is why you couldn’t make our wedding, so this is a really lovely surprise.’

      Wedding? ‘We’re really big on surprises in our family.’ Jayne flashed him a smile that hovered between sympathy and commiseration. ‘Shall I carry the tray in? It looks heavy.’

      As they walked into the living room the atmosphere was dripping with vitriol. Unpleasantries had obviously been exchanged and the three of them were sitting in stony silence. Will and Rachel, who shared a sofa, were staring at the floor in front of them, while Crystal was flicking the screen on a jewelled iPhone that she tossed under a cushion before flashing Stanley and Jayne a wide smile that ended at the corners of her lips. Will stood up and Jayne thought he was going to take the tray from her, but instead he said, ‘You know what, Jayne, I don’t think we’ve got time for tea, I think we better hit the road.’

      Rachel rapidly jumped to her feet, ‘Absolutely, come on, Jayne.’ They both bundled her out of the door, leaving a bewildered Stanley standing in the middle of the lounge holding a teapot and Crystal idly lounging, Cleopatra-style, on her chaise longue, giving a cursory wave to their departing backs.

      ‘What the hell was that all about?’ Jayne snapped angrily as soon as they reached the newly crazy-paved driveway, ‘that was so rude – Stanley had made tea.’

      ‘Darling, seriously, it’s much better for us to go now.’ Will slammed the passenger door on Jayne as soon as she’d sat down. ‘Your mother’s not right in the head, and I wanted us to go before she upset you.’

      ‘Why, what did she say?’ Jayne caught Will flashing warning eyes at Rachel in the rear-view mirror.

      ‘Nothing in particular, she was just a bit off.’

      ‘She’s been a bit off all our lives – that’s no reason to just up and leave! I think we should go back in there to apologise!’

      ‘Jayne, listen to Will, and Will start the sodding engine.’

      ‘Guys, what’s going on? What did she say?’ Jayne turned around in her seat to look at her sister as the car reversed down the driveway at top speed, ‘Jesus, Rach, I can take it, I’m a big girl, what did she say?’

      Rachel sighed and Jayne was sure she detected a note of uncharacteristic embarrassment in her voice, ‘She asked Will how much you were paying him to pretend to be your boyfriend.’

      ‘What?’

      ‘She thought I was a gigolo,’ Will added, rolling his eyes to emphasise the lunacy of this suggestion.

      ‘That’s not entirely idiotic – if I pimped you out we could seriously earn a fortune. None of this teaching and chutney-making, we could make big bucks.’

      ‘Jayne, you don’t get it. She was serious. She said that there’s no way that you could pull someone like Will, so you must have hired him to impress her. She started naming figures that you’d paid him.’

      ‘It doesn’t matter,’ Will snapped, and reached over to put his hand on Jayne’s thigh, ‘she was probably high on something, Jayne, take no notice. You’re gorgeous and fabulous and worth ten of me.’

      ‘But she needs to know what Crystal said. You don’t need to protect her, Will.’

      ‘Rachel’s right, it’s okay.’ Jayne shrugged. His reticence was sweet, but unnecessary as far as her mother was concerned. She wouldn’t be surprised at anything Crystal had to say. Her mother’s lack of diplomacy and social niceties didn’t surprise her at all, but Crystal had probably merely said what most people were thinking. She’d seen the double-takes of people in the street whenever they walked by holding hands; that moment that lasted a split second too long between her saying, ‘let me introduce my boyfriend’ and the polite but baffled responses.

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