No Bra Required! (2 page)

*

 “Lucy, are you actually listening to me?” 
Annabelle’s shrill voice screeched into Lucy’s ear.

“Yes mother, do I even have a choice?”

Annabelle tutted loudly,   “No, Lucy you
don’t.  Now open the door and let me in.  I know that you are in the
kitchen because I can see you.  I’m outside the back door.”

“How did you get around the back? You haven’t climbed over
the gate have you?”  Lucy moved towards the back door and peered through
the frosted glass.

Annabelle’s laugh tinkled on the other end of the
phone.  “Don’t be so bloody foolish.  I still have a gate key from
when you asked me to water your plants, when you went on holiday.”

“That was five years ago,” said Lucy.  “Why do you
still have the gate key?”

“Oh for goodness sake Lucy, stop being bloody pedantic, and
open this door now.  This summer drizzle is playing havoc with my bob.”

Lucy could see through the glass that her mother was
smoothing down her hair.  She sighed as she turned the key and cut the
call off - she had no choice but to let her in.

“You’d better come in then,” she said swinging the door wide
open.

“Oh goodness what an absolute fright you look, you really
are a foolish goose.”  Annabelle gasped as she continued to pat her hair.

“Oh for fucks sake Mother, stop it with the home counties
words and accent.  You sound like a pissing Enid Blyton adventure!” 
Lucy couldn’t help herself, she prided herself on not swearing in front of the
older generation, but her mother was an exception, she was enough to make the
Pope scream a barrage of obscenities.

Annabelle stopped in her tracks and held on to the work
surface as if to steady herself. “Well I have never been so insulted,” she
cried.

“You obviously don’t get out much then,” screamed
Lucy.  “What do you want anyway? It’s not as if you care about me or
what’s happened, you hated Simon.”

“That’s not true, I didn’t hate him.  I didn’t think that
an accountant was good enough for you, that’s all.”

“Crock of shit Mum.  You said, ‘He has a pin head and
squinty eyes and looks as though he should live in a caravan’.  Were they
or were they not the words you used to describe him when I brought him home to
meet you?”  Lucy remembered that day eight years ago as clearly as though
it was yesterday.  They had met at a quiz in a pub where Simon had been
drinking with his mates, and he had helped Lucy, Sarah and another friend,
Karen with some of their answers.  After the quiz, he’d offered them a
drink, and Lucy had been mesmerised by his dark brooding looks and wavy black
hair.

 “I did no such thing.  As I remember, I told you
that he’d break your heart one day, and I’ve been proved right.” 
Annabelle studied her nails, a satisfied smile upon her face.

“No, you didn’t and even if you did, there’s no need to be
so smug about it, just because you were right.  Christ Mum, you make up
your own version of events and repeat it so much that you actually end up believing
it.  Dad and Granny have always said that half the stories that you’ve
told Sophie and me, aren’t true.  No wonder you have such an unhealthy
relationship with both of us.  Sophie even moved to South Africa to get
away from you and hasn’t been home to see you in over three years.”

“She hasn’t been to see you either, just your bloody father,
and his camp little friend.”

“Mum, don’t be so rude about Dad and Richard.  Anyway,
I did see Sophie, about eighteen months ago, admittedly only for an hour on Crewe
Railway Station, but she had a really important meeting in London, and it was
the only chance we could get.”  Turning her back to Annabelle, Lucy
flicked on the kettle.

“I do hope you’re not making instant, it's absolutely
ghastly?”

“Firstly, I’m making tea, secondly I’m not making you
anything, and thirdly, it's ghastly, not GHARSTLY, there’s no bloody r in it!”

“I’ll make my own then.  You do have fresh coffee don’t
you?” Annabelle asked, oblivious to Lucy’s tone.

Lucy sighed as she opened a cupboard and pulled out a pack
of ground coffee that she threw at her mother. Annabelle just managed to catch
it, and held it at arm’s length in case it marked her extremely expensive cream
suit.

“Cafetiere?” Annabelle asked.

“It's behind you, next to the microwave.  Seriously,
though Mum, what do you want?  You've not cared about me since I was nine
years old, so why now?”  Lucy dropped a tea bag into a mug, ignoring the
tut of disgust from Annabelle who only ever used Indian leaves.  Lucy pushed
a spoon across the work surface towards her.

“Contrary to popular belief, I do care about you Lucy; you
and
Sophie.  I gave birth to you after several hours of agony, so of course I
care about you,”

“I do believe you screamed “Get this thing out of me now. I
want a caesarean.” With a variation on the same theme when you had Sophie, and
don’t say you didn’t because Granny told me that.”

“Huh, my own mother even turned on me.” Annabelle shook her
head.

“What, like you turned on us?” Lucy muttered.

“Do grow up Lucy; you’re not a mother, so you don’t know how
hard it can be.”  As the words came out of Annabelle’s mouth, even she,
queen of the sharp tongue and snide comments, realised that she had gone too
far.  She put a hand to her mouth.  “God, Lucy I’m sorry. I honestly
didn’t think.”

Lucy wanted to punch her in her stupid, over made up, over
botoxed face.  “Just get out,” she cried.  “I never, ever, want to
see you again.  How could you, I hate you?"  Lucy sobbed, tears
rolling along her cheeks.

“Please Lucy, I am sorry.  Look hit me if you like, but
don’t touch my nose; I paid over £3,000 for it.”

The invitation was too powerful for Lucy.  She swung an
open palm at her mother’s face, landing it on her right cheek.  A bright
red hand print appeared almost immediately.  Annabelle didn’t even flinch.

“Well, I deserved that,” she said quietly, her eyes bright
with tears.  “So, let’s talk about
getting
you back into the land of the living, what do you intend to do next?”

Lucy couldn’t help but smile.  Only Annabelle could
take such a whack and act as though it had never happened.  Fleetingly
Lucy felt a little bit of respect for her, albeit grudgingly.  She shook
her head.

“I honestly don’t know Mum. I honestly don’t.”

Annabelle finally left after an hour, an hour in which Lucy
had contemplated quietly how it would be possible to kill her mother and get
away with it.  Cutting up her body and melting it in acid appeared to be
the safest way.  Although Annabelle had annoyed and hurt Lucy beyond
belief during that hour, even Lucy had to agree that it was about time she
started to pull herself together.  Annabelle had pointed out that Lucy
needed to get a solicitor otherwise what would stop Simon from insisting she
move out of the house so that he could move the ‘bitch’ in.  Lucy realised
it probably wasn’t that simple, but just thinking about another woman living in
her house, with her husband, made her feel sick, not to mention that their
child would be sleeping in Lottie's room probably.  Lucy wasn’t quite sure
that she could continue to live in the house anyway as there were so many
memories. However, she still wasn’t ready to make that decision yet, but at
least she could find out what her rights were.

Once Lucy had seen Annabelle drive off down the road, she
heaved a sigh of relief.  Why did she allow her mum to make her feel so
inadequate, angry and bitter?  She had tried to forgive Annabelle for
virtually abandoning her and Sophie, but she couldn’t.  She had lived in
the same house when they were children, but a ‘morning’ over breakfast was the
only contact they’d had, everything else was done by Gerald. He washed their
clothes, he fed them, and he did their hair and attended every school
event.  He was a mother
and
father rolled into one and Annabelle
never genuinely seemed to care, or feel any guilt about it.  Sophie had
fared considerably better than Lucy over their mother relinquishing her
parental duties.  She was a confident child with a bit of Annabelle’s hard
edge to her, plus it was a lot easier for her to rebel with only one parent
taking any notice.  Sophie was the one who smoked, who drank alcohol
underage, who stayed out late at night, and who usually did what she wanted to
do.  Yet it was a regular occurrence for Gerald to blow up and ground her
for a few weeks.  During this time, while Sophie rebelled, Lucy spent a
lot of time with their father.  She felt sorry for him, and wanted to keep
him company, and their bond grew greater, hence Lucy’s reason to go to the
local university, at which Gerald lectured.  Annabelle spoiled that too,
and made life extremely difficult for Gerald and Richard.  She would cause
arguments, and turn up at Richard’s house at all hours, when she knew Gerald
was there, and cause a scene on the street.  She also encouraged her
friends and acquaintances to ostracise them.  Gerald was even “black
balled” from both local golf clubs, and had to resort to the council run ‘pitch
and putt’ to play his beloved sport.  There were so many things that Lucy
hated about Annabelle, yet somehow she had made sense about Simon and what he
could do with the house.

*

After eating an omelette, Lucy looked up a local solicitor,
by logging on to her computer.  She spoke to a Mr Devine who chatted to
her briefly about her situation, and then arranged her an appointment for later
that week.  He had been extremely helpful, and Lucy was glad that she had
taken her mother’s advice, for once.  Then she decided it was time to call
her dad.  He knew about Simon leaving because Sarah had telephoned him, but
Lucy hadn’t spoken to him about it herself.  Lucy recalled when she had
told Gerald that she and Simon were to be married.  It had been one of the
few times they had ever argued.  Gerald had said that he liked Simon, but
something inside had told him that he would hurt Lucy one day.  Gerald had
told Lucy to be careful, and to be absolutely sure before they booked a
wedding, which had agitated Lucy.  She couldn’t understand why he didn’t
want her to be happy.  However, that was the whole point, as he told Lucy,
he wanted her to be happy, he just wasn’t sure that Simon was the right man for
the job.

“Hello, Gerald Falmer speaking.”

The familiar voice brought tears to Lucy’s eyes as she
pictured her dad.  She knew his grey hair would be neatly trimmed, and he
was probably wearing a tank top, and a shirt and tie, as he always did.

“Hi Dad, it’s me,” she whispered, tears now falling silently
down her cheeks.

“Lucy my baby, how are you?  God I’m glad you’ve called
me I've been so worried about you.” Gerald cooed on the other end of the phone.

“I feel like crap, to be honest Dad.  I can’t believe
he’s gone.”  Lucy sniffed loudly as her nose began to run.  She
pulled a tissue from her pocket and wiped her eyes and nose.  “She’s
pregnant Dad, how could he let that happen after what we went through with
Lottie?”

“I know darling. I know.  Have you spoken to him since?
Do you know where he’s living or what he’s going to do next?  Have you
been to see a solicitor?”  He asked lots of questions, his voice full of
concern.

“I haven’t heard anything at all.  Sarah's Ben doesn’t
even know where he is, and they are supposed to be close friends.  Funnily
enough I’ve just contacted a solicitor this morning, and I’m going to see him
in a couple of days.”  Lucy again sniffed, this time running the back of
her hand across her nose.

“That’s good. I know it’s hard to hear sweetheart, but I
think if she’s pregnant you have to accept that he’s not coming back.”

“I know Dad, but I miss him so much.”  Lucy started to
sob uncontrollably, the mixture of hearing her dad’s voice and thinking of the
inevitable was just too much.

“Lucy sweetie, please stop crying, come on, calm down,”
Gerald responded in a soothing tone until eventually the crying subsided. 
“Listen Lucy, I have something to tell you. I didn’t want to worry you, but I
think there may be a solution to a problem that I have.”

“Dad, what’s the matter, is something wrong?”

“Look don’t worry it’s nothing serious, but you know
Richard, and I were supposed to be going to Australia for six weeks to see his
sister?”

“Yes,” Lucy replied, worried despite Gerald telling her not
to.

“Well I can’t go because… you see the problem is Luce… well
I’ve broken my leg.”  Gerald laughed.

“Dad, why didn’t you tell me, when did it happen, and why on
earth are you laughing, it’s not funny?”  Lucy chided her father.

“I only did it last week, and I just thought that you had
enough to worry about, sorry.”  Gerald apologised. 

“How did you do it?” Lucy asked, sighing deeply.

“I fell off a chair, when I was cleaning the bedroom
windows.”

Lucy gasped; her father and Richard lived in a cottage with
sash windows that were as high as the ceiling. 

“You could have killed yourself, what were you doing
cleaning them? They're enormous Dad."

“Well someone has to do them, they won’t just clean
themselves,” Gerald replied.

“More to the point, why were you standing on a chair, and
not a pair of step-ladders?  Dad, sometimes for an educated man you
genuinely are lacking in common sense.”

“Okay Annabelle!”  Gerald chuckled on the other end,
knowing that likening Lucy to Annabelle would annoy her.

“Hmm hilarious, I don’t think!  Anyway, if you can’t go
to Australia what are you going to do, will you lose all your money?”

“Well that’s what I was going to say.  I can’t go, but
because I’ve got a doctor’s note from my GP, I can have the money back for my
flight. Richard, on the other hand, wouldn’t.  So I’ve been trying to
persuade him to go.  It’s been nearly six years since he saw his sister.”

“He should go, but I can understand him not wanting to leave
you.  Oh Dad, I’m so sorry, you were looking forward to it so much.” 
Lucy sighed. She was a little cross that her dad hadn’t told her about his fall
before now, but understood why.

“That’s my point sweetheart, how about you come over and
look after me?  It will give you some time to think and get your head
together, and it would give Richard peace of mind.  Plus it’s not as
though you have to worry about work, is it?”

Lucy was a primary school teacher, up until a year ago.
She’d loved her job, but after losing Lottie, she just didn’t have the passion
for it anymore.  She had decided to reassess her life and take an
indefinite sabbatical.  Simon had been supportive and had encouraged Lucy
to resign if it were what she genuinely wanted.  So for the last eleven
months, she’d worked as a volunteer in a local charity shop, and it was a job
that made her feel happy and fulfilled.

“Well, I suppose it would be okay with the shop.  Mrs
Edwards is always saying how quiet we are.  Oh I don’t know Dad. I've got
such a lot to sort out, and I need to be here.”

“Do you honestly need to be there Lucy?  If Simon does
come back for the rest of his stuff, do you truly want to be there?” 
Gerald wanted Lucy with him, to protect her. It didn’t actually have anything
to do with him needing help; he could manage perfectly well with the help of
friends and neighbours.  “Go and see your solicitor, listen to what advice
he gives you, and then decide.  Richard isn’t going until next Saturday,
but you could come midweek and spend some time with him before he goes
away.  I know that he would love that, and to see you settled in. What do
you think?”

Lucy thought for a few seconds, before responding. “Okay,
I’ll speak to Mr Devine and let you know on Friday evening after my
appointment.  How will you manage though Dad, if I don’t come, and will
Richard refuse to go?”  Lucy suspected that Gerald needing help was
possibly a ploy to get her there, as her father was an extremely resourceful
man.

“I’ll make sure he goes don’t worry, I can always hire a
nurse,” Gerald lied, crossing his fingers.

“Okay Dad, let me think about it.”

“Okay sweetie I’ll speak to you later in the week. Lots of
love to you, Lucy.”

“You too Dad, love you loads.”  Lucy ended the call and
stared into space.  Perhaps it was a good idea to get away for a while,
spend some time with her dad.  She would see what Mr Devine had to say
first.

The following Friday evening Lucy sat at the dining room
table and stared at her mobile.  She was still undecided about what to do
- should she go and stay with her dad, or wait here hoping for Simon to come
home?  She realised that thinking about him coming back was ridiculous,
there was no way he would leave Jennifer ‘bloody bitch face’ Grayson now that she
was pregnant.  He was an honourable man, she thought, then realised if
he’d been honourable he wouldn’t have shagged Jennifer ‘bloody bitch face’
Grayson in the first place.  She sighed deeply and spun her phone around
on the table top.  She thought back to Mr Devine, and the advice he gave
her.  He had been kind and sympathetic to Lucy’s situation and explained
what her options were: buy Simon out, let Simon buy her out, or sell the
property.  One thing that he had insisted was that Lucy should take her
time to make her decision, particularly as neither Simon nor his solicitor had
contacted her. One thing that he said he would do immediately was to contact
Andrew to insist Simon continue to pay for the mortgage, assuming Simon was
still using Andrew as his solicitor as they had no forwarding address for
him.  He also advised Lucy to contact the bank and let them know what the
situation was.  She needed to try to make sure that she continued with the
mortgage payments if Simon stopped.  Lucy had sighed with relief, at least
she wasn’t going to be made homeless, and she had enough money from what
Grandpa had left her to pay the mortgage for a year if necessary.

Mr Devine had been a genuinely lovely man, very attractive
too, and obviously madly in love with his beautiful wife, and his baby
boy.  Lucy had spotted a couple of photographs on his desk, one of a very
pretty, dark-haired woman kissing an extremely cute baby, the other a really
happy picture of a wedding.  His wife and a blonde woman appeared to be bridesmaids
and Mr Devine and another man were hugging them closely while all of them were
smiling widely, and laughing, with the bride and groom.   They were
such happy pictures that Lucy couldn't help but comment on what a lovely family
he had.  Mr Devine had almost burst with pride as he told her that Billy
was six months old, with his mother’s gorgeous looks.  Lucy had left his
office almost in tears, inexplicably because she was so happy that Mr Devine
seemed happy.

Her thoughts went back to her decision, Lucy’s phone
continued to spin, more slowly now. She slammed her hand down on it. 
She'd decided. She was going to stay with her dad.  The house would be
okay for a few weeks.  Brian next door would mow the lawn, pick the post
up and generally keep an eye on the place for her, and if Simon did cruelly
move in with Jennifer then she would come home and bloody well move in with
them.  Lucy laughed weakly at the thought, it was great being brave when
you have a large gin inside you and the worst-case scenario hasn’t happened,
but she knew, deep down that she would never be able to watch Simon with
Jennifer and their child, so it was a ridiculous idea to contemplate.  She
picked up her phone, and pressed the picture of a smiling Gerald and Richard
looking up at her.

“Hello, Gerald Falmer.”

“Hi, Dad, it’s me.  You’d best get Richard to make up
the spare room I’m coming to stay for a while.