– she’s a massive snob – and Cyclops for Derek – on account of his roving eye. ‘Anything else?’ I interjected ‘Because I really should be getting back to work.’
Hayley tutted and put the phone down. Her own special way of signing off on phone calls, designed to make you wonder, just for a second, if she might have been involved in a car crash, a mugging, or been kidnapped.
‘How does Gary cope?’ asked Jason, shaking his head, though deep down he knew the answer to that one. Hayley’s stunning and, when she was at school, boys were always trying to come round ours for tea, just so they could catch a glimpse of her. Dwayne Richardson even told me once that Hayley was number one in year ten’s ‘wank bank’. You can imagine how charmed I was by that piece of information.
Hayley’s thirty-three now and her rather glacial brand of beauty turns heads more than ever. Gary first clapped eyes on her six years ago, giving out pamphlets at a car show in Earls Court, wearing a pair of hot-pants and a small halter-neck top – Mum had told everyone she had a modelling gig. The minute he saw her he was smitten and when Hayley found out he owned his own car dealership in Ilford, so was she.
‘Coming out tonight Marianne?’ asked Jason casually.
‘Saving.’ My reply was automatic.
‘You don’t say,’ he said with a hint of frustration. ‘Look, it’s Lindsey’s birthday, everyone’s coming and you haven’t been out in ages. Besides, you should let your hair down before tomorrow.’
Gary’s family were coming round en masse tomorrow, hence Hayley’s nagging. To say I was dreading it would be an understatement.
‘And by the way, Mrs Jenkins is ready, waiting for her transformation,’ he winked.
‘Thanks,’ I said, slugging back the last of my tea. ‘And I might come.’
Jason rewarded me with a big grin.
‘I do have a job to get through tomorrow morning, but I suppose you could be right. A hangover might be the only way to cope with Hayley after that.’
‘Yes!’ he said, punching the air. ‘Miss Haversham is actually coming out. I can’t believe it. We’ll have to brush the cobwebs off you first.’
Once I was out I was pleased I’d come. It was so long since I’d got ready for anything other than work and I’d saved more than I’d hoped this month, largely due to my second job – which we’ll get to later. It was mid-April and my plan was to have enough saved by the summer in order to buy a ticket to go away in the autumn, my cunning plan being to escape the winter … and my family … and having to sort my life out …
Still, that was all a long way off so Jason was right. It was time I had a bit of fun.
I was just coming off the dance floor where I’d been flinging myself about with the other girls from the salon when Jason sidled up to me. ‘All right?’ he asked, head nodding in time to the beat.
I smiled at him. He scrubbed up well. In fact I would go as far as to say he looked quite cute. Jason and his brothers are all a version of each other but he’s the best looking of the three. At thirty he’s the youngest and the tallest and, unlike his brothers, Ruben and Jake, isn’t yet showing signs of balding. All the brothers have strong noses, though Jason’s face is the only one that really gets away with it. His long, slightly broken nose gives him a kind of Roman look and in fact, thinking about it now, if you were casting Cleopatra, Jason would make a perfect Mark Antony.
Now he winked at me and I was on the verge of winking back when someone tapped me on the shoulder. I spun round.
‘Teresa!’ I exclaimed, surprised and delighted to see my old best friend standing there. I hadn’t seen her for years, which was sad because at one stage we’d practically been joined at the hip.
‘All right,’ she said now, almost shyly.
We stood grinning at one another dopily for a second or two and Jason nodded at me before slipping off, leaving us to it.
‘So, how’s it going?’ I asked.
‘Not bad, you know,’ she said, shrugging in a way that told me things were fine but nothing special. ‘Still working for The Land of Nod.’
‘Great,’ I said, despite the fact my heart had just twanged with both sympathy and empathy. Teresa had started working at the bed shop on the High Street after college, but had vowed it would never become permanent. It’s fair to say neither of us have exactly fulfilled our potential.
‘I’ve just been promoted from branch manager to regional manager,’ she went on to say, her tone slightly defensive.
‘Well, that’s brilliant. Good for you,’ I said sincerely. ‘It’s so nice to see you by the way, you look great.’
I wasn’t lying. Teresa had always been a curvy girl and though her curves were erring on the side of slightly overweight, she carried herself well, with just the right amount of swagger. She had frizzy black hair, olive skin and a confidence that had always stood her in great stead. Tonight she was wearing her usual big, gold hoop earrings. Throughout our teens I’d always been quite envious of how comfortable she was in her own skin. She seemed to bypass that gawky stage where your limbs have a life of their own and all you want to do is pull your sleeves over your hands and gaze at the floor. She may not have been the most beautiful girl at school or have had the absolute best figure but it didn’t matter. Her confidence was so appealing.
‘Ah thanks, I was just about to say the same. Love the hair.’
I grinned, pleased she liked it.
‘So anyway, what about you?’ she asked. ‘I know you were away for a while but what are you up to now? Doing anything with your music yet?’
I shook my head. ‘No. Still hairdressing. Still at Roberto’s, which is great though because it means I get to go travelling loads. I just got back from Asia recently, which was amazing actually.’
To my chagrin Teresa looked neither impressed or interested, just surprised. ‘Oh really? That’s a shame. I would have sworn you’d be in some orchestra or something by now.’
‘Not going to happen,’ I said bluntly. ‘I still play for pleasure, always will, but anything else just isn’t realistic.’
She’d touched a nerve. I knew she only looked so disappointed because she cared, but it was frustrating. If it was that easy to become a professional violinist I would have done it.
Teresa looked mildly put out.
‘It would be a lovely dream but it’s never going to happen. Too expensive, too tricky, too competitive, too late. Anyway, what else is up with you? Have you got a boyfriend?’ I asked, quickly changing the subject.
By way of reply she stuck out her left hand. On her ring finger sparkled a tiny diamond.
‘Oh my god. I don’t believe it. Who are you engaged to? Not Darren?’
‘Yeah,’ she said. ‘Been engaged
