A Lesser Evil - Lesley Pearse [23]
It was Patty who bit by bit brought Fifi’s belongings to the flat, her record-player, clothes, shoes and books, each time making a joke about how it left more room for her in their old room. While Fifi was delighted to have all her old belongings back with her, it saddened her too. It was as though the memories of her were being permanently erased from her family home.
Patty had only just left one evening when Dan arrived home, and right away Fifi knew something was wrong because he seemed distracted. While he had a bath, she warmed up the stew she’d made for him, and once he was eating it, she tackled him.
‘You know this estate in Horfield will be finished by Christmas?’ he finally blurted out. ‘Well, I thought we’d be moving straight on to the site in Kingswood. But there’s been a setback there, some problem with the planning department and an access road, so now we’ve got to go down to Plymouth.’
‘You mean move there?’ Fifi exclaimed. ‘You can’t, we’ve only just got this place, and there’s my job.’
‘I know,’ Dan sighed. ‘I suppose I’ll have to get digs and just come home at weekends.’
‘Oh no. I couldn’t bear that,’ Fifi said.
‘Nor me,’ Dan agreed. ‘I told the boss how it was, but he said that’s all he’s got, the one job in Plymouth, take it or leave it.’
‘You mean you get the sack if you won’t go?’
Dan shrugged. ‘I took the job with Jackson’s on the understanding we worked all over the place. If I want to stay here, I’ll have to find a local firm willing to take me on.’
‘How hard will that be?’
‘Easy, I should think. There’s loads of new developments in Bristol.’
‘Then there’s no problem.’ Fifi beamed. ‘I get to keep you here.’
‘Happy Christmas, sweetheart!’
Fifi forced her eyelids to open. Dan was standing by the bed with just a towel around his waist, and he had a tray in his hands. ‘Come on, look joyful, it’s breakfast-time!’ he said with laughter in his voice. ‘Don’t panic, I haven’t got you anything unsuitable for a princess with a hangover.’
Reluctantly Fifi sat up and Dan put the tray across her knees. It was just grapefruit segments in a little glass dish with a glacé cherry on top, toast and a pot of tea.
She had been on top of the world and slightly drunk when she got home yesterday after the office party. She had tinsel in her hair and a bag of small presents from the other girls. Dan had arrived home soon after, also a little tight as it was his last day with Jackson’s, and they decided to go out for the remainder of the evening to the Cotham Porter’s Stores, a pub just around the corner from their flat.
The Porter’s Stores was a cider house, and a bit run down, but it always had a good atmosphere because of the wide range of people who drank there, from serious cider drinkers with red noses to hard-up students and the immediate locals. Maybe drinking rough cider wasn’t such a good idea after drinking spirits at work, but Fifi was fine until Robin, her younger brother, came in with a group of friends.
Overjoyed to see him, she left Dan and rushed over to Robin, and because she was a bit drunk and assumed he’d come looking for her, she flung her arms round him.
‘Don’t embarrass me in front of my friends,’ he said coldly, nudging her away.
Fifi was so deeply hurt she couldn’t think of a clever or cutting remark. Instead she said something about how she was only pleased to see him, and it was Christmas after all. Robin retorted that he wasn’t pleased to see her drunk, and obviously she was going downhill fast since she married Dan.
Robin had always been a bit of a prig. If Fifi had been sober she would have given as good as she got. But Robin turned on his heel and left the pub without having even one drink. Fifi returned to Dan’s side and ordered another cider.
She didn’t tell Dan what had been said, but her good humour vanished and she drank quickly and silently, not even talking to Dan.
Later, she vaguely remembered being carried up the stairs over Dan’s shoulder, and the next thing she knew was she was kneeling on the bathroom floor, head over the toilet, vomiting and telling