The Womens' Reading Group. Chapter 3.

Suzy’s weekend hadn’t gone at all well. Friday night she managed to finish early, there wasn’t much interest in properties at the moment. Still, the summer had been profitable for her and she expected a good bonus this Christmas. Despite it being a small town, she sometimes made a good sale, as she had once done when she’d sold the Orchards to Leo. That had been the first time they’d met, although Leo had taught school for some years in the area. She’d been a bit star struck, knowing that Leo had a famous actress for a mother. For a while she had hung around her hoping that the fame and money would somehow rub off on her. That had become a big mistake when she found out that she was a practising lesbian. When Debs had moved in the pressure was off and she found gratitude that she hadn’t been dropped as a friend. Despite her aura of success Suzy was lonely and it was becoming increasingly difficult to keep up the pretence.
Friday night she had joined her boss for a quick drink at the only wine-bar in the town. Changing her clothes in the Ladies toilet, she had allowed herself just a nip from the vodka bottle before easing her Audi from the car park and leaving it outside her flat, walking back to the bar a few minutes away. She would never run the risk of losing her driving licence and her only means of making more money. Occasionally her boss, Greg Mason, would send her to another branch where sales were more profitable. One of these had been a complex of luxury flats in the new Cardiff Bay development and with her looks and charm she had sold quite a few bachelor flats. She wasn’t so successful with the family apartments, but they didn’t bring the big money in.
She’d arrived a bit late only to find Greg in close conversation with one of the secretaries from the prestigious solicitors who did most of the town’s legal business. There wasn’t much point in staying then, Greg would leave with the most willing girl and she’d held out on him for some time, knowing her job would be at risk if she slept with her married boss. If only she’d arrived earlier she could have teased him and maybe have got a contract to work out of town for a while. Instead she had stayed on the fringes of the group, only getting a word in when she’d sunk a bottle of wine to give her courage. Unfortunately it was hard to know when to stop and something told her that she’d behaved badly again, waking up at eleven pm strewn across the bed, not knowing how and when she’d got home.
Wide awake and feeling miserable, she sought solace once again in the Vodka bottle.

Saturday was no better. Heavily hung over she was sick in the toilet and then found her hands shaking so much that only another vodka could stop the awful things happening to her. Following that up with black coffee her next disappointment was finding nothing to eat in the fridge, freezer or cupboards. Several empty takeaway boxes and some half-eaten ones glared at her in testament to her unhealthy way of life. She decided that would have to stop before she started to become an alcoholic. All she needed was good food, rest and curbing her drinking, but for now she needed something to get by. After another swig of vodka she managed to make her way to the nearest café where she ate toast followed up by more coffee. Sat in the booth, the image of her empty kitchen haunted her and to make matters worse she couldn’t remember when she’d last eaten.

Back at her flat she made a shopping list, putting down healthy food and plenty of flavoured water to swill her system out. If only she cut back on her drinking and ate better she would start to get herself together again. Once in Sainsbury’s though she began to feel ill. Sweat poured down her face as she tried to find the items on her list. Perhaps it was the hangover, but somehow it seemed more than that. The other people all seemed to know exactly what they wanted and where to go to find it. For her the aisles stretched ahead like an endless line of goods that shimmered and danced in front of her. Sounds boomed in her ears, the echo from the tannoy, children screeching, a mad chattering that made no sense. Blindly she groped at the shelves, determined to put something in her trolley, though all she wanted to do was turn and run away. Somehow she managed to gather some essentials but then she found herself in the drinks aisle, where row on row of wine, beer and spirits were boldly on display as if to say, ‘its alright to buy me, I’m what you need for now.’
Even so the wealth of choice overwhelmed her. Should she buy wine and maybe some cool beers, that wouldn’t get her so drunk? But as she looked at each row her head started to spin again, leaving the choice between wine or spirits. Grabbing a few bottles she knew she would have to get out of here fast before she saw someone who knew her.
All the checkout queues were of similar length, some trolleys were piled so high she thought it impossible to look over the top. Choosing the checkout nearest the door she spent the next ten minutes in a near swoon, her heart pounding, her fists clenched, sure that she would be unmasked by the stale smell of alcohol running out of her pores.
When her turn came she threw everything onto the conveyor belt, a young girl helping out by packing her goods at the other end. There she was with an empty trolley and no idea what to do next.
‘Are you okay?,’ the till girl asked, ‘only your face is very white. I can get a chair for you, its so hot in here.’
‘No, thank you, I’m alright, I just felt a bit faint, its passing now. How much do I owe you?’
‘That’s ninety-four pounds fifty, do you have a loyalty card?’
Suzy had no idea what that was. Near panic she thrust her Visa card at the woman and hoped that was all she had to do.’ Please enter your pin number,’ the woman said and for an agonising moment it went right out of her head. People were tutting behind her and she made a stab at the numbers. Fortunately they were correct and gratefully she collected her trolley, wincing as the woman and the packing girl uttered the words, ‘Thank you for shopping at Sainsburys.’
Sitting in her car she couldn’t stop shaking. The whole thing has been a nightmare and yet people went shopping every day. From now on she’d use her computer and get it delivered, she was ill, panic-stricken. It wasn’t her fault. Slowly she managed to get herself under control with only a small sip from her hip flask. Lighting up a rare cigarette she felt that soon she’d be able to drive. That was until she saw her shopping still in the trolley next to the car.
How long had she sat there with her trolley full of shopping just waiting to be stolen?
Heaving the bags into the boot, she left the trolley where it was and pulled out into the noon traffic, hoping to hell she wouldn’t be stopped.
Parking the Audi outside her flat she paid a passing boy to carry her bags up the stairs.
‘ What you got in ‘ere missus, it weighs a ton!’
‘Never you mind, ‘ she answered pressing two pound coins into his hand, ‘go and buy some sweets, whatever.’

Afterwards she wished she had paid him to put it all away. The task was beyond her, sorting through fridge and freezer food wore her out and the rest of the shopping was left on the table. The bottle of vodka was untouched, its brand a good one. Taking out a tumbler she filled it almost to the brim before adding a smidgeon of ice and lemonade.
She came round at three in the afternoon, her head pounding and her mouth dry. God, she wanted to crawl back on the bed and sleep the day away, but she was ashamed of her weakness. Opening the fridge she found there were a few bottles of flavoured water, how she had managed that was a mystery, but a good one for a change. Two glasses and three aspirin later she felt just about steady enough to see what she had bought. There were plenty of ready meals in the freezer, but what she wanted right now was instant food. There was a loaf and some butter along with some ham and tomatoes, that would do for now. It was only much later that she realised she had only one toilet roll left and no tampons, though she doubted she would need them for a while.
Strangely enough she felt like reading and seeing that she only had a day and a bit to read the set book she poured herself a glass of wine and put her feet up as she started reading her book.

Kate hadn’t read much of the book either. Firstly there were the kids to get off to school and Jane was being a little bitch, refusing to baby sit, saying she had homework to do. That was a sharp one, the girl had no aptitude for schoolwork and she was damned sure she never did any homework. Evan was looking everywhere for his football kit, swearing that it hadn’t been washed when she knew damn well it was in his kitbag. He’d find it eventually. Kirsty was teething, Donna had started to wet the bed again and more than anything she wanted a night out. Of course it would be okay on Monday as her neighbour’s daughter was always on the lookout for a few quid. No bloody sod would do it on the weekend though and if she didn’t get out soon she was going to go mental.
‘Come on Janie, I’ll give you a fiver, soon as I get my benefit.’ She wheedled.
‘Fuck off, I said I’ve got homework. Anyway, I won’t get a fiver, not after you buy your fags. I’ll give you a deal though, I’ll stay in but Monday you let me off that stupid group.’
‘No way, you’ll run off to your father again an’ I ‘aint having that.’
‘Nothing doing then,’ Jane said walking out of the room.
‘Hang on, okay, here’s the deal. You baby sit tonight and tomorrow you’ll take Kirsty out in the pram if the weathers fine. Monday I’ll give you the bus fare but if your dad’s not in then you come back home. Is that okay?’
‘Yeah, I’ll put the washing on as well.’
‘Don’t push it, get the little un’s to bed and you can do your homework then.’ She went off to get ready smiling to herself. She could finish the book tomorrow, not that she liked reading much, but it was a night out that her snooty neighbour approved off and Leo could usually be tapped for a drink. She crossed the room and picked up the phone knowing there were quite a few of her mates who would want a night out on the town.

Once Kate was out of the house, Jane set to work. First she rinsed out the nappies that had been soaking in a bucket, (the old terry towel ones were cheaper than the disposable ones) and put them in the washing machine along with the soiled sheets. Setting the machine for a hot wash she bundled up the school shirts, blouses and all the other white washing to go on later. Tomorrow afternoon she would take the lot to the laundry to dry, there wouldn’t be time to dry them on the line and get them ironed for school. Next she put Sean and Donna in the bath together, saddened that there would no hot water left for her. Well she’d have one Sunday night, it didn’t matter what she looked like before Monday; she wasn’t the most popular girl in school. Boyfriends were out of the question, when would she get time for them while she practically looked after the kids?
What few people knew was that under the hard exterior she loved the kids, especially now when she wrapped them up in two big bath towels, the smell of their clean bodies making her feel oddly protective.
‘Read us a story, Janie,’ Sean asked and Donna immediately joined in. She enjoyed reading to the children, something that she had warned them not to tell her mother because that would be a weakness to be exploited. It was the same with her schoolwork, she did enough in school to get average grades, but her homework had to be hidden from both Kate and Evan, who would love to give her secret away.
She’d promised her Da she would take care of the kids, just as she had promised to keep her schoolwork up.
‘It’s the only way out of poverty, Janie love, ‘ he’d said and though she pretended to hate it she kept her grades up, just making sure they were never too good.
Now she put Sean and Donna into their beds, bringing out the books and reading one then listening to Sean read. He was slow, but she hoped to get him reading soon, before he lost interest as many of the neighbourhood kids did. Living on a housing estate didn’t mean you had to be thick, she told herself, just careful that you kept your street cred or the bullies would pick on you. This year she’d be taking her GCSE’s and already she had enough on her coursework to scrape passes in most of her subjects. Once the exams were over she would quit pretending and hopefully have enough good passes to stay on or go to college. Right now she wasn’t sure what she wanted to do, but she was sure it would be something to do with English, that’s why she couldn’t go to the Reading group, it hurt her to listen to Kate’s silly opinions. God knows why she went, but then she had never understood her mother, too much like her Da she thought.
‘Janie, read us ‘nother one,’ Donna wheedled and she got out the favourite, one where Donna knew most of the words and could join in with Sean. She would read this one and then get them tucked up, leaving her a few hours to do her homework before Kate got back.
Bending her head to the book she smiled and in that moment she looked a normal pretty teenage girl.

‘Diane, come here and do this damned tie up for me,’ Gerald yelled at his wife. Why did she always have to spend Saturday night getting ready for Monday when it was only a piddling little group and nothing as important as his own business? At least it kept her out of hair while he met his cronies so he didn’t make too much of a fuss about it. Still, she was his wife and he provided well for her, the least she could do would be to attend to his immediate needs and that meant fixing this damn dickey bow.
‘Coming darling, just got to write in this bit.’ She replied, refusing to jump to his needs. That way led to being taken for granted and Diane would never let that happen. So he was going out for a meal with the Masons, so what? He thought she knew nothing about it but she made it her business to know exactly what everyone was doing in the small town. They might both be big fish in a very small pond, but it was their pond and that meant making sure nobody else tried to take over their position.
Putting down her paperwork she went over to where her husband was still fiddling in vain with his tie. ‘Why do you bother with it, nobody else makes such a fuss?’ she said as she deftly tied it anyway, her fingers well used to these particular tasks. Like pouring a perfect martini, or typing up his speeches on the computer, she thought.
‘You know damn well that as the mayor I have to keep the standards up,’ he growled, feeling that she should show him more respect.
‘Such fuss for a council meeting, anyone would think you were off to a dinner-dance,’ she replied mildly, knowing it was a dinner, but only the stripper would be doing any dancing. Did he really think the wives of the councillors had no idea what they were up to? What excuse would he have if she had offered to go with him as she had tried in the early days?
‘Really Diane, you know how important these meetings are. Actually we will be eating, in that new restaurant that opened a few weeks back. If its decent food we can always go there together,’ he added.
Like hell, she thought, as if she would expose herself to ridicule when it was well known what happened in the rear rooms of such places. At least he didn’t have a mistress, or if he did he was being exceptionally clever and she didn’t think he was that good.
Oh she knew her husband inside out. After nearly thirty years of marriage there were signs to be read if she wanted to look. She knew he looked at women but that was as far as it went. He didn’t have the guts or imagination to undertake an affair. Now she crossed to the drinks cabinet and taking it for granted that he’d join her she poured two generous gin and tonics.
‘Thanks,’ he said accepting his. ‘Did you book the taxi for me?’
‘Yes dear, seven forty-five as usual. Is there anything you want me to tape on the Television?’
‘No, I can’t remember seeing anything interesting. Don’t bother waiting up for me, I expect I’ll be late, new sessions and all that you know.’
The taxi arrived then and she gave him his duty kiss, glad to have the house to herself for the rest of the evening. She thought of his last remark and something stirred in her mind, a vague regret that they knew each other only too well. Perhaps if they had any children then things might have been different, but children didn’t come along and by the time they looked into it then it was too late for her. All in all children hadn’t figured in their plans and she didn’t think that she’d missed anything.
However, the thought had been planted in her mind and she found it hard to get back to her work. It had taken her a lot of planning to turn herself from the valley girl, Diane Pritchard,
Into the young woman whose good manners and sense of self-respect had captured the interest of Gerald Fairborn, the son of a prominent banker. What sacrifices she’d made along the way were worth it, she told herself, mentally closing the door on one part of her life.
He was a good catch then, even before he made his name in financing building projects. Now, as his wife and the head librarian, she felt her place in the local community to be a valued one. So why did she find it necessary to tour the house, each room displaying tasteful reminders of their wealth?
The house was reasonably new, a four-bed roomed detached house built in the late sixties when it was fashionable to have everything new, yet retaining some of the better of the old ways, including the open fireplace in the snug. That was her own den, a place where she could relax and be herself.
Now she walked into the large living and dining room, running her hands over the beautiful rosewood dining table and chairs, her gaze taking in the pristine leather Chesterfield-style suite then dropping to where a set of three tables were carefully strewn with suitable classy magazines. Drawing the curtains in the large bay windows against the darkening night she thought of all the material possessions that had once given her so much pleasure. The lovely house, the two cars, Gerald’s Mercedes and her own nippy Renault. The four bedrooms with two that had en-suite bathrooms, the carefully landscaped garden. The holidays abroad twice a year and her expensive jewellery. Why was she feeling so out of sorts then?
Her life was full with the library, the Reading Group, her occasional forays into the Drama Group. Perhaps that was it. Once again she thought of Leo in that old Victorian house and the way she run the drama group almost as if just being the daughter of a Shakespearean actress made her an expert on the subject.
Diane wasn’t stupid, her cleaner, Gwen was also Leo’s cleaner. She’d been recommended and Diane knew she couldn’t mange without her. From her she had learnt of the lovely Victorian building and knew in her heart that it was far classier than her own home.
Try telling Gerald that though. He was a product of his times, a self-made man with all the subtlety of a bull in a china shop. The image made her grin and she pushed her thoughts aside. She’d made her bed and had to lie in it. The old saying reminded her of her mother and the grin faded. Returning to her den she poured herself another G&T, hoping that the notes she had made on the set book would help her keep the Reading Group in hand, it did have a tendency to run away from her. All because of Leo, again. That woman would be the death of her. She’d just have to work harder, but somehow she doubted that would make much difference.