The Fat And The Thin Of It Page 9

before she started school, and, according to Richard again, Bob got into a real panic. He confided to Richard that he had to get Jackie pregnant again and somehow he did. Jackie was devastated when she fell again and, so she told me, couldn’t understand how a condom could leak. My reaction was why they relied on condoms in this day and age, and she told me that she’d had an IUD fitted but it did a parachute jump with the first period, and she didn’t like the pill because she got fluid retention. I kept my opinion to myself: fluid retention, I ask you.

  Anyway, Bob was overjoyed as he got his ‘man child’ and kept Jackie in England. Jackie made the most of it and resigned herself to bringing up the kids with a husband who appeared twice a month. Oh, sure, he lavished attention on her when he was home and made her feel like a queen, but for those who had an inkling of Bob’s alternate life, he was a creep. I kept mum and carried on as if I knew nothing, and nodded and smiled when Jackie put her husband on a pedestal. She was a wonderful person; so kind, considerate and selfless, but she was as naïve as a nine-year-old.

  Bless her heart, she did her utmost to cheer me up and put me back on the right path when she saw the state I was in, so trusting and totally believing in my version of the office incident, and I didn’t have the guts to tell her the truth. I allowed her to think she was helping, that she had given me a wonderful idea and had made me feel life was worth living again. I could bare the fact that Terry didn’t like me, but I couldn’t bear the thought that Jackie wouldn’t like me if she knew what I’d done.

  When Jackie left, I sat cradling my mug of cold tea and thought over a few things, without any fantasies or imaginations of my own.

  I’d done something very stupid; you didn’t need a high IQ to realise that. The fact that they could take me to court and sue me was also bloody obvious, and if they did, who could blame them? I’d have to take on the chin whatever happened. Huh, quite an apt metaphor; take on the chin for what Harriet had taken on the nose.

  But there again, if I wasn’t financially ruined and in prison: what if I did call my contacts? What if I did try to start up my own business again? I was fifty-two pushing fifty-three; did I have the energy to start all over again? Oh, I really didn’t think so. By the time I’d got my act together I’d be on the verge of retirement so it wouldn’t, in all honesty, be worth the trouble

  And then there was Terry’s reaction. If the tables were turned, would I not feel the way he does? Probably not.

  ‘Oh, come on, girl: yes, you most definitely would! If you thought that he’d done something that could wreck this family you’d be on his back like an avenging bloody panther!’

  Hm… yep. I’d be all over him like hives and never let him live it down. His reaction – so far – has been extremely benevolent, to be honest.

  I’d been with Terry for over thirty years, and I wouldn’t want it any other way. I’d never met another man that could come up to the turn-ups on his trousers. He possessed nobility and an integrity that had disappeared with the knights of King Arthur’s round table. He was solid, strong, steadfast and as reliable as day follows night. I had to try and do something to put all this right, with a calm head and cool nerve: take it on the chin, girl.

  Right…

  I took my mug to the kitchen then went upstairs to my office. I picked up the land line and dialled Catwalk and asked for Pam’s extension and wriggled into my swivel chair while I waited for her to answer. There was no itch under the skin and no stone in my chest. I knew exactly what I was doing.

  “Pamela Jeffries.” Pamela said in her crisp tone.

  “Pamela, it’s Jill.”

  Silence.

  “I’d like to ask you to retract the summons.” I said as calmly as I could. “Please.”

  “Well,” Pam began. “We’re still considering what action to take, Jill.” Crisp, cold; I didn’t expect anything else.

  Pam was a completely different character to Harriet. She wasn’t hysterical and vicious, and I suspected that she’d applied for the summons on Harriet’s insistence. But, considering how quickly she’d presented the summons, maybe it was something Pam had drawn up herself just to wave about and put the shits up me. Pam usually did what her partner told her to do in the heat of the moment to appease her, but knew exactly how to pull Harriet’s impetuous irons out of the fire with dexterity and a cool, clear head.

  I drew in breath and tried to reason with her. “Do you really feel it’s necessary? What happened was a complete and utter fluke of an accident. I had no premeditated intention to whack Harriet in such a way as to cause her physical harm. You both scared the hell out of me when you came to my house last week, and although I realise that Harriet has the right to drag me into court, I’m asking for a little clemency here.”

  No reaction.

  “Pamela, if you prefer, I’m begging you to show a little clemency. Think of my family, please, and leave them out of this. “ I sighed dramatically, as I knew Pam was listening and taking note even though she wasn’t saying anything. “I was an idiot, but I reacted out of shock and frustration. I’d just been very unceremoniously fired, for Christ’s sake!”

  I heard Pamela’s earring scrape on the earpiece of her phone. Good, she hadn’t put the line on ‘speaker’ for all and sundry to hear.

  “Look, you won’t ever hear from me again. I don’t even want to work in this crappy business any more. I’m tired, jaded and if I could move to a desert island right now, I’d be packing my suitcases. Please, drop the charges and let’s forget about the whole thing.”

  After a pause, she said, “I’d have to consult with the board again before I can give you an answer, Jill.”

  “You’ve actually told the board and involved them in this? Gracious, I must hold more weight than I thought.” I said, trying a little psychology.

  “You are insignificant to this company, Jill. Don’t think that…”

  “Then drop it, Pamela. Drop it and forget I ever existed. You got what you wanted from me and it served your agency very bloody well, you have to admit that. Give me that credit at least and let me walk away with a little dignity.”

  I didn’t realise how hard I was gripping the phone until my index finger went numb. I changed the phone to the other hand and sucked on my finger to bring it back to life while I waited for Pamela to say something.

  “As I said, I have to speak to people. I’ll let you know what we’ve decided as soon as possible, alright?”

  Before I had a chance to say anything else, she hung up.

  Well, I’d done my bit. Now I had to wait to see what their bit would be.

  Thinking about it, that summons was a bit dubious; how could they have got all that sorted in such a short time? No, it must have been a fake, something to make me panic and nothing more. Fingers crossed, Pam could talk Harriet out of all this nonsense before they could do any real, official damage.

  I shuffled to the bedroom with the intention of showering. I’d fallen into bed at ten o’clock after pumping on the elliptic machine and Jackie’s call had woken me up, so a shower was due. I stripped and showered, and was about to don the same pyjamas when I caught a whiff of them. Christ, they stank to high heaven! I hunted round for another pair that was warm, but then thought about what I was going to do for the rest of the day. I couldn’t just lounge about zapping while waiting for Pam to call. I needed to keep myself busy to curb the anxiety.

  I remembered I hadn’t asked Jackie to get me the cigarettes, damn it, and I’d have to get them myself. I searched in my wardrobe for something that wasn’t a suit, which wasn’t easy. All I ever wore were suits of some kind, with silk blouses or fine jersey tops, and three-inch heels. I finally found a pair of jeans that must have been five or six years old, but I doubted they’d still fit me. Anyway, I couldn’t teeter down to the newsagent’s in a pencil skirt and a pair of kid-skin court shoes, so I pulled them on and… oh. Christ, they were baggie. I pulled them off again to check that they weren’t a pair of Terry’s, but they were definitely mi
ne.

  I’d been on the exercise machine that morning, so I thought I could brave the bathroom scales. I tried not to weigh myself too often, because if I saw I’d gained a few pounds I’d drag around the depressive self-consciousness about how hideous my arse must look all day. I had to admit that I hadn’t felt the tell-tale sign of weight gain – a certain patch on the side of my right thigh that became extra sensitive and even painful – for a while, so I went to the bathroom and balanced myself on the side of the sink before gently stepping onto the scales and slowly letting my full weight down.

  What a gratifying surprise; I’d lost about half a stone since the last time I’d braved the test just before Christmas! I usually shunned the scales, which sat tucked in a corner like a hibernating tarantula until February at the very least, but this just goes to show what a little tension and stress can do for the figure! Perhaps getting the boot hadn’t been so bad after all, but now I’d have to work extra hard at keeping it down, which was a bummer.

  But, highly worth it. Absolutely.

  I suddenly felt an awful lot better, much lighter of spirit and soul, and tripped to the bedroom to search for some long-forgotten size eight clothes that I hadn’t dared to even look at for ages.

  I fished out a fantastic pair of jeans that I’d loved wearing about fifteen years ago. They