The Fat And The Thin Of It Page 30

gawped at Jill for a couple of seconds before they burst out laughing.

  “He looked a right prat, didn’t he?” Jackie giggled.

  “Did he ever!” replied Jill

  “Still,” Jackie took another gulp. “I don’t know why the hell he was dressed like that as he can’t even control a peddle-boat on the Serpentine.” She shook her head as she tried to figure it out. “Could Triple F have bought all that stuff for him? I mean, maybe the ‘Godfather’ liked sailing and they were going out sailing later?”

  Jackie suddenly gasped and sat bolt upright. “Crikey, Jill, maybe the ‘Godfather’ is in Ibiza as well, with them, in that house?” she turned wide-eyed with fear towards Jill. “Holy shite, do you think he heard what I said to Bob, and the three of them are now planning how to get rid of us?”

  She nervously took another swig of her Scotch and realised she’d finished it. She caught a waiter’s eye and lifted her glass, pointed to Jill and held up two fingers.

  “Jackie,” Jill changed the subject as she could see Jackie was getting worked up again, although what she was saying could quite well be true and she was getting worked up as well. “Before you order more drinks we ought to eat something.”

  Jackie huffed. “What is it with you and food lately? All of a sudden you’re worried about eating instead of not eating.” The drinks arrived and Jackie raised hers. “Bottoms up and shut up.”

  Jill obediently took up her glass, but she sipped her brandy instead of gulping it.

  Twenty minutes later, they staggered out of the bar and stood in the street, thinking about where to go for lunch.

  “Lunch’s on me, alright?” slurred Jackie, and she looked about for a restaurant. “Ooh, ooh, there’s one that looks pretty fancy, C’mon.” She grabbed Jill’s arm and they tripped across the street towards a green and red awning with El Retiro de San Anton written in fancy script across the front.

  It was as fancy on the inside as it was on the outside. There were about eight tables covered with crisp, green and red table cloths and laid out in waiting for customers with shiny white plates, gleaming cutlery and fine crystal stemmed glasses. The lighting was subtle and gentle music was playing, piped in by hidden speakers. There was only one other couple sitting in the restaurant, and a waiter dressed in black with a snappy white apron glided up to them with a beaming smile. “Good afternoon, ladies. A table for two?” he asked with a very good English accent.

  The women nodded and he guided them to a table by the window, placed two menus in front of them and a wine list in the middle. He left with a tiny bow and Jackie picked up the wine list first.

  Glancing down the list of wines, she beamed when she found the one she was looking for. “Muga.” She said triumphantly. “There it is! Have you ever tried it?” she asked Jill, who shook her head. “Bob brought a bottle back at Christmas and it’s fantastic.”

  “Alright,” agreed Jill. “Now, what looks good to eat?” she picked up the menu and her eyebrows disappeared under her fringe. “Shite, Jackie; thirty-four Euros fifty for a salad!”

  “Ah, let’s spoil ourselves.” Jackie waved her hand as she looked at the list of entrees. “How about we share a couple of starters then order a main course each?”

  “Okay, cool.” Jill agreed again. “I’d like the sole in butter and you can choose the starters.” She snapped the menu shut.

  Jackie beckoned to the waiter and he glided up to their table. “Could we have the degustacion Iberico and la ensalada templada de cangrejo y gambas to start,” the waiter’s pen busied itself on his pad. “Then my friend will have the lenguado maunier and I’ll have the entrecot a la pimienta.” She closed her menu and handed it to the waiter. “Oh, and a bottle of water and the Muga, please.”

  After the waiter had left, Jill said, “I don’t know what you ordered, but you did it very well. Do you know what you ordered?”

  Jackie giggled. “Of course, silly. It was written in English underneath, but I fancied trying out my Spanish.”

  The waiter brought the wine, deftly uncorked it and served a sample for Jackie. She closed her eyes as she sampled the red, aromatic liquid and nodded appreciatively. The waiter then filled their glasses a third and left.

  “Cheers, fat cow.” Jackie raised her glass.

  “Same to you, skinny bitch.”

  They touched glasses and took a sip.

  Jill hooded her eyes as she looked at Jackie. “Now, can you tell me why you didn’t stick to the plan?”

  Jackie’s face remained impassive. “As I said before, I didn’t need to once I saw Bob. He looked such a dick-head dressed as if he was about to take off on a regatta, and the whole scene just didn’t fit in with the Bob I know.” She took another sip of wine. “In fact, I don’t know if the Bob I know is the real Bob any more. Perhaps he’s where he should be.”

  Jill considered what Jackie had said. He had looked like a dick-head and he did seem very much at home in those exotic surroundings. Apart from wanting to know if he had any intention of keeping in contact with his children, Jackie had also wanted to know exactly how he felt about her and if he had any intention of coming back. The fact was that Jill was quite relieved that Jackie had done an about-turn on that idea, as she couldn’t see that he would have answered her truthfully, and he may have given her a string of lies and she’d have been left hanging in the air, waiting for him to return and pick up where they’d left off for years.

  Jackie continued. “I mean, when he’s at home with me he wears tracksuits and slippers, drinks beer and giggles when he farts.” She shook her head slightly as she raised her glass to her lips. “I can’t see him doing that dressed as Popeye while he’s lounging on a sun-bed with Triple F.”

  Jill sipped her wine and took a deep breath. “So, love; do you still want him to come back? How do you feel about that?”

  Jackie’s face remained impassive. “Jill, I don’t know. All I do know is that I want that financial agreement, and if I’m left on my own from now on the dosh will soften the blow. My opinion is that I deserve what I asked for. I’ve never had much all through our marriage because he led me to believe that money was tight, and look what he was doing!” she waved her hand in the general direction of the hill they hadn’t long left. “It’s my turn now to eat out in fancy places, take fancy holidays and maybe even sign myself up to a fancy gym and get rid of all this once and for all.” She grabbed an ample boob with her free hand. “And, when I do, I shall go and have a body-lift and give Madonna a ride for her money.” She raised her glass again. “Cheers to that!”

  Jill smiled and raised hers. “Cheers to that!”

  When they finished their sumptuous meal, Jackie waltzed out the restaurant but Jill was frowning. “I can’t believe what they charged.” She grumbled. “Two hundred and forty nine Euros! Bloody extortion, if you ask me.”

  Jackie turned to her and sighed with a smile. “You know, for someone who’s been a big earner, you’re a bloody lousy spender. What did you do with all your money over the years, keep your mattress plump?”

  Jill huffed. “I put Penny in private schooling, then through her medical career, and then my parents went down-hill and I’m paying for their care. Just because I have money doesn’t mean I have to chuck it about willy-nilly. I saved it as well,” she wagged her finger. “And it’s just as well I was prudent as I don’t think I’ll ever find another job with that kind of pay again.”

  Jackie turned and waltzed down the street. “Well, when I’m rich I’ll make sure I enjoy myself.”

  Jill huffed again and trotted after Jackie. “Ten grand a month isn’t that rich, girl.” She informed her. “There’ll be hefty taxes that will bite into a third of all that, at the very least.”

  “It’ll still be a lot to me, Jill.” Jackie sang as she did a spin. “When I am a rich gal, beh-deh-beh-deh-beh.deh-biddy-biddy-biddy-biddy-bum…”

  They walked towards the harbour, Jackie humming and Jill frowning. Jill was still thinking about the obscene lunch bil
l and working on how she could talk to Jackie about careful administration and distribution of money. She wasn’t used to having a large quantity of money, and Jill wondered if she had any idea, however vague, of what the household bills were over the year. Actually, she wondered if Jackie had any idea of what the household bills were, like council tax and other bills she’d probably never been aware of. When they got back, Jill determined, she’d go round to Jackie’s and sort it all out for her.

  Jackie, for her part, hummed constantly, and walked into a few shops and bought herself a large, floppy straw hat and huge sunglasses and then bought an ice-cream for each of them. She had cash in her handbag and she was in the mood to spend, and she’d worry about tomorrow when it came. Right then, she felt like a little financial freedom for a change, and wanted to find out where all the shops were and treat herself and Jill to a few bits and pieces.

  They strolled along the promenade looking at the yachts, trying to guess which one might be Bob’s or the Godfather’s. Jackie was in remarkably good spirits, so Jill followed along with whatever she wanted to do for today, as long as she didn’t try to buy one of the yachts that had se vende signs pinned to their boughs.

  Jill’s phone rang and she took it out of her bag: it was Bob.

  “Sweetie, it’s Terry.” She pointed to her phone as she moved away from Jackie. “I won’t be