EPISODE ONE HUNDRED AND FIFTY-SIX
Freda stared at the
baby wistfully, and glanced at her friend Marjorie with envy. They were the
same age, yet she and her husband had never been able to have children; and she
thought it was the same with Ted and Marjorie, yet here was her friend in her
fifties, having recently given birth to a beautiful daughter. And she didn’t
seem to appreciate how fortunate she was.
‘You’re so lucky,’ she told Marjorie for the umpteenth time.
Marjorie’s tone was peremptory. ‘You’ve already told me. And I’ve already told
you, Freda, I’m not so lucky if I’ve got to look after the brat myself.’
‘The little treasure!’ Freda cooed, staring into the cot. ‘Who’s Freda’s little
da-da-da-darling girl.’
Marjorie visibly shuddered. ‘Oh, stop that stupid baby talk. It drives me mad.
I can’t stand it.’
Freda stared at her friend with a resentment bordering on sudden hatred.
‘Anyone’d think,’ she said, ‘that you didn’t like the child.’
Marjorie remained silent, staring into the cot with revulsion. ‘I don’t mind
her.
Of course I don’t. It’s just that being a single mother at my age…and who’d
have thought her father would turn out to be one of them.’
Marjorie made a limp-wristed gesture and pulled a repugnant face.
‘But I tell you something,’ she went on. ‘The two of ‘em can have her. ‘Cause I
intend keeping this house. If they think they can bring her up, let them. I’m
seeing the solicitor first thing tomorrow morning. If it’s a choice between her
and the house, I’m having the house.’
Freda looked shocked. ‘You’re not letting her go to them, are you? To be
brought up by a couple of…
Freda struggled to find the right euphemism.
Marjorie nodded emphatically. ‘Too bloody right I am. I’m swapping her for this
house. And I know I’m doing the right thing. When she’s old enough, she’ll come
to her mother. She won’t want to live with two perverts.’
*
Prior to opening the wine bar, Craig sat at a table, quietly going through the
outstanding invoices. Maggie came in from the kitchen and, thinking she was alone
in the bar, helped herself to a measure of brandy and knocked it back. She
shivered as it hit the spot. Craig coughed pointedly, making her jump.
‘Craig! I didn’t realise there was anyone here.’
‘Still on the hard stuff, Sis?’ Craig glanced at his watch. ‘And it’s only just
gone nine-thirty.’
‘I just needed…’ she began.
Craig stared at her, raised his eyebrows, and shook his head. ‘That’s half the
trouble. You “need” a drink. You’ll never be cured until you can just enjoy a
drink, Maggs.’
There was desperation in Maggie’s eyes as she stared at her brother and
explained, ‘I’m going to reach that stage soon. I promise. But just for now, I
need that fix. It’ll be my last drink for the rest of the day. That was just to
help me keep on an even keel.’
Craig sighed, shook his head again, and gave his attention back to the pile of
invoices. Maggie, her voice brighter, changed the subject.
‘How are things on the home front? Found anywhere you like yet?’
‘We’re going to see a place at six this evening. That’s if you and Mike can
cope without us for an hour.’
‘No problem. So you two are serious then? About buying a place together?’
‘I’ve never been more serious in my life. Why? Is there a problem with that?’
‘Of course not. It’s your life, Craig.’
Craig looked up from his paperwork. ‘It’s just that you sound so…so negative.
Just a little bit more enthusiasm would be appreciated.’
Realising it meant a great deal to her brother, Maggie felt guilty. She had
always thought highly of her brother, and thought him good looking. Almost like
a parent, she wanted his partner to be more attractive and dynamic. Whereas
Mandy was rather dumpy and ordinary, and didn’t seem to match her expectations
for her brother’s intended.
She saw Craig watching her carefully, waiting for some sort of reaction. She
smiled warmly, hoping to reassure him with words of encouragement.
‘I think a lot of Mandy,’ she said. ‘And I think she’s really good for you.
You’ve met a good ‘un there.’
But somehow the words came out sounding insincere.
*
It was Donald’s birthday, and Ted gave him his card and another small envelope
while they both enjoyed a late breakfast of smoked salmon and scrambled eggs.
Donald chuckled dutifully as he read it. ‘Yet another joke about growing old.’
‘I thought it was quite funny,’ Ted said.
‘Yes, you would. You, whose favourite comedian was Benny Hill.’
Ted bristled. ‘I know you never liked him, but…
Donald interrupted with a wave of hand. ‘Oh, let’s not go through that again.’
He put the card aside and picked up the other envelope. ‘Now what have we
here?’
Ted beamed with pleasure. ‘Something special.’
Donald removed a bundle of tickets and brochures from the envelope. ‘Well,
well, well. Tickets for several plays at the home of the Bard. And three nights
at a hotel. I’ll look forward to that. When is it? Ah! Next Thursday to
Saturday; before the season ends.’
Donald smiled across at Ted, and his eyes became misty. ‘Thank you, Ted. That
really is special. I shall look forward to it.’
Ted’s grinned. ‘I’ve never been to
Stratford-upon Avon.’
‘You’ll love it. Thank you for the present, Ted.’
‘I hope it’s…suitable.’
Donald nodded and frowned, and Ted wondered why his friend had suddenly become so
serious.
‘I think it’s a wonderful birthday present. But…’
‘But?’ Ted questioned anxiously.
‘You know what I’d really like, that would make life perfect: for us to bring
up little Miranda together. I know there will always be a certain opposition to
gay men bringing up a child together. But, let’s face it, you’re the father,
and anything’s better for the child’s sake than being brought up by the wife
from hell.’
‘That’s where you’re wrong,’ Ted said. ‘She’s no longer the wife from hell.
She’s the mother from hell, and I intend to do everything in our power to see that
she gets a good upbringing.’
Donald laughed delightedly. ‘Good for you, Ted.’
‘Thank you, Donald. Happy birthday!’
IN EPISODE 157
Nicky has a problem with her new boyfriend.