EPISODE ONE HUNDRED AND SEVENTY-TWO
‘How many glasses of
sherry shall I pour, darling?’ Nigel asked Jackie as she lay the table.
Jackie paused to consider, a fork poised above Nigel’s place setting at the
head of the table. ‘Let’s see: Nicky and Anthony, us two, that’s four. Vanessa
won’t have alcohol in her condition.’
Nigel sniffed disapprovingly. ‘Then why did she have that white wine last
night?’
Jackie slammed the fork onto the table. ‘I tried to tell her, but she wouldn’t
listen. Still, I don’t suppose one glass in moderation...’ Jackie checked that the place settings were
correct then hurried towards the door. ‘I hope Nicky and Anthony get here soon,
the dinner’s almost ready to be served.’
As she reached the door, the doorbell chimed. A momentary sweep of panic in her
expression as she pleaded with Nigel. ‘Darling, would you let them in and I’ll
start to dish up the dinner?’
‘What about the sherry?’ Nigel said, waving his arms expansively. ‘It’s a
pre-dinner drink. An aperitif. Which is French for dentures.’
Jackie shook her head impatiently. ‘If I hear that joke one more time...’
Nigel giggled inanely.
‘Well, I’m going to dish up. Please let them in.’
Nigel stood upright, putting on a master-of-the-house demeanour, strode across
the hall and flung open the front door. Nicky stood in front of Anthony, half
smiling and pouting nervously.
Nigel’s reaction was a stunned expressionless nothing as he stared at Anthony,
who was wearing an elegant green satin dress, black stiletto shoes, and an
auburn wig.
Anthony smiled apologetically, shrugged and adjusted his beige, leather
handbag.
‘Hi!’ he said in a female voice that was tantalisingly sexy.
*
Donald sat upright on the sofa, bouncing Miranda on his knee while she giggled
with delight. Ted sat slumped in an easy chair, his shoulders heavy with a
burden of worry.
In between making eye-contact with the baby, and chuckling and roaring like a
pantomime baddie, Donald glanced at his friend with a fleeting look of
irritation. Distracting Miranda from the game which was becoming tiresome, he
leaned over, put her on the floor, grabbed a squeaky rubber ball and rolled it
across the room.
As she crawled after it, he gave Ted a stern look.
‘I know I suggested our little baba having a proper relationship with her
mother...
Ted interrupted him. ‘And you were right. Once you’d put that in my mind, I
knew it was the right thing to do. She gave us custody of Miranda for my share
of the house, fair enough, but how was I to know she wouldn’t want anything to
do with the child. Ever. It’s not natural.’
‘The wife from hell is not natural.’
‘But what are we going to tell Miranda when she gets older? That her mother
doesn’t want to know her and she’s being brought up by a couple of...’ Ted
stopped speaking and glanced apprehensively at Donald.
Donald smiled tolerantly. ‘You can’t bring yourself to say it, can you?’
He felt a tug on his leg and looked down. Miranda had returned with the ball
and wanted him to throw it again so that she could retrieve it like a puppy.
Beaming, he accepted the ball, threw it across the living room, and it landed
on the door on the far side with a dull plop! Miranda scrambled after it again.
Ted’s expression as he stared at Donald was a mixture of pain and anger. ‘The
thing is...’ he began falteringly, ‘is the fact that it won’t be long – not
that long – until she goes to school.’
Donald shook his head. ‘I know what you’re thinking. I’m way ahead of you. But
in an infants’ school she won’t have any problems. If she does have problems with
older children that’ll be at least ten years away. For God’s sake let’s not
worry about that now.’
Reluctantly, Ted nodded moodily. ‘I suppose you’re right.’
‘I know I’m right. Cross the bridge when we come to it. Let’s enjoy life now.
Cheer up! It’s all worked out for the best. We’re bringing up little Miranda
and we’re happy. Aren’t we?’
Ted suddenly grinned at Donald. ‘Yes, you’re right. I’ve never been so happy.
That’s why I keep sort of...sort of looking over my shoulder, wondering if
something can go wrong.’
Ted felt a tug on his trouser leg and looked down to see his daughter offering
him the ball to play with. He took the offering and smiled at her.
‘Yes, Miranda, everything’s going to be all right from now on.’
Donald sighed contentedly and looked at his watch. ‘I don’t know about you but
I could do with opening a bottle of bubbly. The sun is over the yardarm.’
‘It’s early afternoon, Donald!’
‘It’s bound to be early evening somewhere in the world.’
*
At the dinner table, while Jackie pushed vegetable dishes towards everyone, and
generally fussed over the meal, no one except Nigel at the dinner table made
eye contact with Anthony, who seemed perfectly at ease.
Fascinated, Nigel couldn’t avert his eyes. Jackie, noticing how hard he was staring,
nudged him and asked if he wanted any more green beans. He shook his head and
continued staring at Anthony.
‘So, Anthony,’ he said, laying heavy
emphasis on the name, ‘now that you are dressed as a woman, do we still call
you by your male name?’
‘Darling, I don’t think...’ Jackie began.
Anthony stopped her with an elegantly raised hand. ‘It’s all right, Jackie. As
a matter of fact I was thinking of adopting the name Antonia.’
Vanessa, who up until now had been silent and moody while she contemplated life
in that terrible building in Rusthall, suddenly spluttered into her cranberry
juice.
‘Sorry,’ she mumbled.
Nigel, who was in a devilish mood, continued to stare at Anthony and asked,
‘Are you going to be Antonia all the time now?’
Nicky looked concerned. ‘I wish you’d told me about your change of name.’
He gripped her hand reassuringly. ‘I’m only going to use it when I’m female.
When I go to work I’ll be Anthony as usual.’
‘Won’t that be confusing?’ Nigel said.
‘Not really. Writers and actors have different names. When they perform they
become other people and are called by their character’s names. It’s quite
simple really.’
‘Fair enough, Antonia.’ Nigel came
down hard on the name again. ‘Nicky ‘s explained to me that you’re not one of
them, which is good to know.’
An expression of distaste, as if he’d eaten something sour, screwed up
Anthony’s face. ‘By “one of them”, I take it you mean someone gay?’
Nigel nodded. ‘Yes, a homosexual person is what I mean.’
‘What have you got against gays? I’ve got several friends who are gay.’
‘It’s not natural. In the Bible it is written that it’s a sin...’
Getting slightly heated, Anthony broke in: ‘I expect that’s the Old Testament,
which is virtually a fairy story. You’re not like this Palin woman, are you? A
creationist.’
Nigel, far from being put out, enjoyed a challenging argument. ‘Hah! All that
Darwin stuff’s never been one hundred per cent proven, you
know.’
‘At least science is mostly accurate and trustworthy.’
Nigel sniffed disparagingly and harpooned a large piece of chicken breast.
Anthony continued before Nigel could get a word in. ‘You trust science enough
when you come home at night and switch on your gadgets. You switch the switch
and a light comes on. Here’s a thought: why not come home one night and pray
for artificial light? Somehow, I don’t think that’s going to work, do you?’
Anthony ended his speech with a smirk directed towards Nicky, which succeeded
in annoying Nigel.
‘I bet you’ve never given the holy book a chance. People condemn it in their
ignorance, having never read it. But if you’d allow me to take you on an Alpha
course...’
Warming to his argument, Anthony interrupted him. ‘So you make the assumption
that I don’t know the Bible? Let me ask you about Moses and the Midianites. God
incited Moses to attack them and he slaughtered all the men and boy children,
but kept the young virgin girls for themselves. Good bit of ethnic cleansing
that was. Putting Moses on a par with Saddam Hussein.’
Nigel’s eyes blazed and he leaned forward, pointing his fork at Anthony. ‘But
the Midianites were sinners in the eyes...’
Suddenly there was a shriek from Vanessa, and all heads turned towards her. It
had sounded like a laugh. Then again, it might have been a cry of desperation.
Perhaps a mixture of both. When she had their full attention, she spoke
bitterly and seemed to be struggling with tears.
‘Who cares about something that happened so long ago? It’s all so much
hypocrisy.’ She glared at Nigel. ‘Hypocrisy. Turning someone who’s pregnant out
into the cold. That’s being a Christian, I suppose.’
Nigel’s voice gained a tremor. ‘H-hang on a second. I hardly think getting you
your own flat, and helping you financially is putting you out in the cold.’
Vanessa screamed and burst into tears. Nigel thought her actions were that of a
thoroughly spoilt brat and was unmoved. Nicky was embarrassed in front of
Anthony, who seemed to be studying Nigel with calm indifference, rather like a
biologist observing pond life.
Jackie was mortified. ‘Anyone for anymore chicken?’ she asked.
IN EPISODE 173
Vanessa moves into her new flat and meets Mike.