And Baby Makes Two - Dyan Sheldon [4]
The old witch cackled. “Oh can’t I?”
Charley said, “Hil, let it go, all right? She’ll be sitting down anyway, what’s the difference?” He gave me a weak smile. “You look really pretty.”
She looked like she wanted to hit him.
“Stay out of this, Charley. This is my house and my daughter!” The glasses on the draining-board started to rattle as the decibel level rose. “I don’t need any advice on bringing up children from you.”
Charley gazed at the wine bottle with real longing, but it was behind her shoulder and he knew better than to try to make a grab for it.
“Hil, for Christ’s sake. You’re getting all wound up about nothing. Let’s just get our coats and go, all right? Have a nice me—”
“I’m not going anywhere with her looking like that!” She was talking to him, but she was looking at me. “Am I making myself clear, Little Miss Babe Power? You can have cheese on toast for your birthday dinner for all I care.”
My teeth were clenched so tight I thought they might chip.
“That’s fine with me!” I shrieked back. “The only place I’d go with you is your funeral, you miserable old cow.”
That was when she hit me. Slap with her palm, right on the cheek.
“Don’t you talk to me like that.” She was shaking with rage. “I’m your mother.”
I put my face right into hers. “Well, I bloody well wish you weren’t. Do you hear me? I’d rather have Cruella De Vil as my mother!”
“The way you’re going, you may get your wish!” shrieked the Wicked Witch.
And I ran out of the room and out of the flat as fast as a person on six-inch heels could.
Happy Birthday to Me
If I’d had somewhere to go, I’d’ve gone there.
But I didn’t. We never saw my dad again after he left, so he was out. My half-sisters, Charlene and Dara, both lived south of the river, and my nan lived in Hastings, so they were out, too. So was Shanee, because even though she lived just down the road she’d gone away for the weekend.
I marched through the boring streets of northwest London on automatic.
I was back on the Titanic, pushing through the hysterical mobs, looking for Jack. I was wearing the bomber jacket he’d put around me. I was still soaked from the icy waves that broke across the ship as she sunk deeper and deeper into the endless water, but my soul was on fire. I would not die without seeing him one more time. “Jack!” screamed my heart. “Jack! Jack! Jack!”
A door blocked my way. I pushed it open with my last desperate burst of strength.
McDonald’s was warm and bright. A pub would’ve been more suitable for my mood, but I was too young to go to a pub, of course. Yet another disadvantage of youth.
My dress was stuck to me like a wet tissue. It was like wearing nothing and a really tight, uncomfortable bodysuit at the same time. Blisters were already throbbing on my feet. But I didn’t care. I didn’t even glance at myself in the glass door as I marched through, that’s how much I didn’t care.
There were maybe a dozen people in the restaurant, including the bored-looking kids behind the counter. I strode through the empty tables as if I was going up to get my Oscar, but instead of an Oscar I got a Big Mac, large fries and a chocolate milkshake. None of those things are exactly great for your skin, but I didn’t care about that just then either. What was the use of having good skin and knowing how to dress and wear make-up if you never had a chance to show yourself off a bit? There wasn’t any use, that was what. If my mother had her way, I’d still be wearing a Babygro and sucking on a dummy.
I sat at a table by the window, so I’d have something to do besides cry while I ate.
Some bloody birthday.
McDonald’s is all right, but it isn’t Planet Hollywood. Without the mothers and children it was pretty dead. Like a film set between takes. And it was too bright, brighter than usual. It reminded me of a hospital. You know, all cheery with yellow walls and fluorescent lights so no one will notice that they’re dying.
I turned my back on the hanging plants and the posters advertising the latest Disney blockbuster, and stared into