Last Chance Saloon - Marian Keyes [50]
‘Hello.’ Katherine treated her to a smile. ‘How did you get up here?’
‘Roger the codger let me in.’
‘Poor Roger,’ Katherine said. ‘I must apologize to him sometime for all the noise. What’s wrong? Why were you trying to batter the door down?’
‘I thought you were ignoring me.’
‘Why would I do that?’ Katherine asked, with another wide smile. Katherine had lovely feet. Small and dainty, her toenails painted iridescent. Although why she went to the fuss of painting her toenails was beyond Tara. She wouldn’t bother her barney if she didn’t have a boyfriend. In fact, even when she did have a boyfriend!
Tara found a strange comfort in watching Katherine’s pretty little feet move nimbly about the thick carpet as she led Tara into the living room and asked her if she’d like a cheese sandwich.
‘Get thee behind me, Satan,’ Tara said. ‘I’ll just have a cup of tea. Even though I could eat a nun’s arse through a convent gate, I beg of you, don’t give me any food.’
She was safe with Katherine. There was scant danger she’d be planning to have a high-calorie, high-fat meal, which Tara would be forced to join in with. Most nights if you asked Katherine what she was going to have for her dinner, she’d say vaguely, ‘I don’t know, toast or something.’ Whereas Tara would have known since the previous Wednesday.
‘I’ll boil the kettle,’ Katherine said.
The bag of Hula Hoops on the shelf in the living room had been there from the night before. Tara distinctly remembered seeing it. How could Katherine have left all those lovely Hula Hoops there overnight without eating them? She wouldn’t have got a wink of sleep herself. As it was, she was going to eat them now. Being face to face with food melted her resolve. Besides, she’d missed her exercise class, the damage was already done. She launched herself on the bag just as Katherine came back.
‘No,’ Katherine yelled, and Tara jumped.
‘Put. The Hula Hoops. Down,’ Katherine bellowed across the room. She cupped her hands to form a megaphone. ‘I repeat. Put. The Hula Hoops. Down.’
Tara froze, taken aback by Katherine’s uncharacteristic rowdiness.
‘Down,’ boomed Katherine. ‘On the floor. Slowly now. Don’t try anything funny.’
Tara found herself placing the red bag carefully on the ground beside her feet. Katherine isn’t normally like this, she thought, in confusion.
‘OK,’ said Katherine. ‘Place your hands on your head.’
Tara obeyed.
‘Now kick the Hula Hoops over to me.’
The red Cellophane pack skittered across the carpet and Katherine grabbed it when it arrived, a huge grin on her face.
‘Thanks,’ Tara said, as they both laughed – Tara mildly hysterically and Katherine brimming over with joie de vivre. ‘That was a close call.’
‘You shouldn’t be buying these things if you’re worried about your weight,’ Katherine scolded good-humouredly.
‘I didn’t. They’re yours. How come you don’t see these things?’ Tara moaned. ‘The minute I walked in the bag started to glow like a beacon. Demanding my attention. Parading itself in front of me. Cavorting licentiously. If it wore clothes it would have taken them off…’
Katherine laughed and Tara noticed vaguely that she was looking extraordinarily well.
‘I bought the wool for Thomas’s jumper,’ she announced.
‘Hot news.’
‘It is, actually. It’s me taking control of my life. Knitting, dieting and not spending money. The new me.’ Tara drew a mental veil over the thirty-five-minute-old shoes that were almost throbbing with illicitness on the back seat of her car. ‘So where were you today? I rang you at half three and you were still at lunch.’
Katherine didn’t answer.
‘Where were you?’ Tara repeated.
‘Hmmmm? Sorry?’ Katherine asked dreamily.
What the hell is up with her? Tara wondered. Something