Girl, (Nearly) 16: Absolute Torture! (23 page)

‘A lifeboatman!’ said Jess, in awe. ‘You mean you risk your life to save people?’

‘Oh no, nothing heroic like that,’ said Phil, as they all sat down at the table. ‘It was just the oilskins that attracted me.’

‘He
does
risk his life on a regular basis,’ Dad went on. ‘He won a medal last year.’

‘Oh, stop it, Timbo!’ laughed Phil. ‘You’re not my agent! Get the dinner on the table, missus!’

The supper was divine – a kind of seafood stir-fry, with oriental rice. It was about a thousand times more delicious than anything Jess’s mum had ever cooked.

‘Anybody for pud?’ asked Phil, getting up and clearing the plates. ‘What would you say to some home-made strawberry ice cream, Fred?’

‘I’d say, “Pleased to eat you,”’ said Fred.

‘With meringue?’ added Phil.

‘Fred loves meringue!’ said Jess. ‘You should see him with a lemon meringue pie. He’s like a lion with a dying wildebeest.’

‘We’ll make one tomorrow, then, eh, Timbo?’ said Phil.

‘Sure,’ said Jess’s dad. He smiled quietly to himself.

Jess felt this was the happiest evening of her life. She had at last got to the bottom of the mystery of her parents’ marriage break-up. Her dad seemed blissfully happy and Jess was sure that once her mum knew that she was OK about it, she’d relax and start enjoying life, too. Wouldn’t she?

Chapter 34

After supper Jess and Fred did the washing-up – badly, in Fred’s case. He had been very inadequately trained by his mum, even if she did look like a teddy bear.

‘There’s still gunge on this plate, Fred!’ scolded Jess. ‘Wash it again!’

‘Domestic drudgery is rather beneath me, I’m afraid,’ said Fred with a maddening smile. Jess whacked him with the tea towel. Washing-up had never been so divine. Maybe it was something to do with the Buck’s Fizz.

Dad and Phil made some coffee and took it up to a sort of deck, perched among the rooftops.

‘You can just see the sun setting on the sea if you dislocate your neck,’ said Dad.

Seagulls flew around, calling, and some sparkly little birds strutted their stuff along the balustrade.

‘What are they?’ asked Jess.

‘Starlings! Aren’t they beautiful!’ said her dad. ‘Don’t say you’re getting interested in birds!’

‘Certainly not,’ said Jess. ‘I was just thinking how nice they would look, stuffed, on a hat.’ She didn’t mean it, though. What she really wanted was a live starling on her shoulder. ‘Have you got any hats with birds on?’ she asked Phil.

‘Are you mad?’ whispered Phil. ‘I wouldn’t dare – living with an ornithologist.’

Dad pulled a fierce, bird-protecting frown.

‘Can we go and see the carnival costumes?’ asked Jess. ‘Oh please!’

‘Sure!’ said Phil, finishing his coffee and jumping up. Jess followed him indoors.

‘You two have got to come as well!’ she said, glaring at Dad and Fred as she passed. They groaned in unison, but Jess could see they weren’t going to let her down. The Buck’s Fizz had helped. Everyone felt festive.

She followed Phil into Dad’s studio. He threw a rug off a huge trunk and pulled it out from the wall. Then he opened it. Inside was a treasure trove of fabulous clothes: sequinned numbers from the 1930s, silk evening dresses, ancient petticoats, embroidered Chinese dressing gowns, amazing wizards’ cloaks.

‘The wigs and hats are all in this cupboard,’ said Phil, walking to the far end of the studio and opening some wardrobe doors.

‘Oh, it’s amazing!’ said Jess. ‘Look at this! It’s like the dress Marilyn Monroe wears in
Some Like It Hot
.’

‘Try it on, try it on!’ said Phil. ‘There’s a screen over there. I’ll find a wig for you.’

Jess went behind the screen and wriggled into the pink sequinned dress. Fred and Dad came into the room.

‘OK, you two!’ said Phil. ‘What’s it going to be? Animal, vegetable, mineral? Wizards or pirates?’

‘The trouble is,’ said Jess from behind the screen, ‘my boobs aren’t nearly big enough for this dress.’

‘Borrow these falsies, then, darling!’ said Phil, and a weird reinforced bra came sailing over the screen. Jess put it on, giggling uncontrollably. Then she emerged from behind her screen and Phil offered her the perfect Marilyn Monroe wig.

‘You’ll have to pin your hair up first,’ said Phil, passing her a tin full of hairpins and some hairspray. There were several mirrors in the room. Jess set to work.

‘I am definitely NOT going to dress up as a woman,’ said Fred, and immediately began to try on long blonde wigs.

‘OK, Timbo, what’s it to be?’ asked Phil. ‘A bird? A fish? A scarecrow?’

‘I’m in a wizardy sort of mood,’ said Dad, grabbing a grey beard. ‘The great thing about being a wizard is you never have to show your legs.’

‘Oh, Fred, you’re so Alice in Wonderland in that wig!’ said Phil. ‘I’ve got a miniskirt somewhere you’ve just got to try!’

So, in a flurry, they all started to get dressed. Phil fiddled with some CDs and put on some disco music.

Jess had found a pair of pink high-heels that matched the dress. She teetered about, laughing. She had never had so much fun in her life.

Pretty soon her dad was peering out charismatically from under a pointy, slouching hat. The long robe, the grey beard: he was a role model for the newly retired who wanted to dabble a little in Good vs Evil.

Fred was looking frighteningly convincing as a leggy blonde, and Phil had slipped into a lime-green rubbery suit and a pair of froggy goggles and had taken on the complete personality of Kermit.

Some thumping disco music got going and they all started dancing, led, of course, by Phil, who seemed to know loads of snazzy moves.

Then suddenly, a strange noise broke through above the music: BANG BANG BANG! They all stopped and looked at one another.

‘It’s the front door,’ said Dad, looking scared.

‘Ignore them!’ said Phil. ‘They’ll go away.’

They all stood and listened. Phil turned the sound down on the CD. Then it came again: BANG BANG BANG BANG!

‘The thing is,’ said Dad, shivering a bit, ‘they sound as if they mean business.’

‘No!’ said Phil sternly. ‘We ignore them. They’ll get bored.’

They waited. Then the huge door bell rang – it tolled away, the sound rolling along all the walls in the house. Deafening.

‘I hate that bell,’ said Dad. ‘I’m going to take it down. Tomorrow.’

Again the person at the door rang the bell. DING A LING A LING A LING! it went, echoing up and down the whole street.

‘OK,’ said Dad. ‘Look, Jess, you go. You’re the only one of us who looks normal.’

‘Normal!?’ said Jess. ‘I mean, look at me! I almost feel like a drag act myself!’

‘Go on, love,’ urged Dad. ‘Just see who it is, tell them we’re out and ask them to come back tomorrow.’

‘And keep your wig on!’ said Phil.

Jess realised she would have to – under the wig, her hair was all pinned and sprayed close to her head. She kicked off the ludicrous shoes and ran quickly downstairs, barefoot, and opened the door.

There stood her mother, carrying a bag, and smiling. As she took in Jess’s sequinned dress, monstrous bosom and louche blonde wig, her smile faded and her eyes just got wider and wider.

‘Jess!’ she said, almost speechless for once. ‘What on earth . . . ?’

‘We’re just dressing up, Mum,’ said Jess. A terrible sinking feeling was spreading through every one of her vital organs. ‘I thought you weren’t coming till tomorrow?’

‘I just brought your overnight bag,’ said Mum, ‘your pyjamas and stuff. Granny wanted an early night, and I fancied a little evening trip.’

‘Well, come in,’ said Jess. ‘Excuse the weird clothing. We’re just having a bit of a laugh,’ she said. ‘Right?’

Her mum looked puzzled and not as jolly as Jess would have wished. And she didn’t even know yet about Phil and Fred being here.

‘We’re just upstairs,’ said Jess. ‘In Dad’s studio.’ And she started to climb the wooden stairs. ‘It’s Mum!’ she shouted, to give them a few precious seconds to prepare themselves. But she knew, in her heart of hearts, that a few seconds would be nothing like enough.

Chapter 35

On the way upstairs, Jess felt a tide of rage sweep into her heart. Why did her mum have to come and stick her nose in? Why couldn’t she have stayed back in Penzance? She’d always been so discouraging when Jess had wanted to go and see her dad. She’d always postponed it, and made excuses, and put it off.

Now, at the very moment when Jess had finally got together with Dad, and understood what he was all about, and was having the wildest, the most wonderful time, now her mum had to turn up. Hammering on the door like the Vice Squad or something. Ruining everything.

Jess entered the room a split second before her mum. Dad, Phil and Fred were still standing there in their fancy dress, paralysed. They looked ludicrous. The music was still playing, but more softly. Mum stared at them, one after the other, in astonishment. Her eyes were enormous. She was speechless. Phil turned the music right off.

‘Er – Jess’s pyjamas,’ said her mum, holding out the bag rather wanly. ‘Her toothbrush and clean clothes for tomorrow.’

‘Madeleine,’ said Jess’s dad, after a creaking silence. He took off his wizard’s hat. His voice was kind of high and thin, as if he were being strangled. Fred suddenly took off his wig.

‘Fred!’ said Jess’s mum in amazement. ‘I didn’t recognise you.’