Faking It Read online

  I honestly don’t think I’d feel safe unless he told me it was on fire in the back garden, then maybe the hairs on the back of my neck would stand down again, and I’d stop seeing things moving out of the corner of my eye. Just the mention of spiders gives me the creeps.

  ‘Come on,’ Henry says, leading Calvin over to the sofa.

  ‘Shall we go sit in the lounge?’ I suggest to Christian. ‘So we can talk about the fundraiser?’

  ‘Yes, let’s do it,’ he says.

  ‘Go make yourself comfortable. I’ll grab us a couple of coffees and head through,’ I suggest.

  I don’t know if we’re allowed to drink in the lounge – I’m not even sure we’re supposed to sit in the lounge. I think it’s more like a museum exhibit (in the Museum of Totally Typical 2020’s Décor), but we need the peace and quiet to talk.

  Look, I know what you’re thinking, you’re thinking I’m trying to get Christian alone because I fancy him, but that’s not it. Sure, he seems like a dream on paper, and he’s not bad to look at, and he’s super charming but… I’m not stupid. He thinks I’m Emma. I am under no illusions, nothing is going to happen between the two of us, but I do really enjoy being around him, and I’m actually excited about this drama fundraiser – whatever it’s for.

  We sit and chat about the event – which I now know is on the evening of the Friday before the half-term break starts, which will be 12 February. With it being so close to Valentine’s Day, we decided it might be fun to have a ‘couples from musicals’ theme – of course, if you’re going to the event alone, it’s absolutely fine to go as one half of a couple, so no one needs to feel left out.

  ‘It’s the closest thing I’ll have to a Valentine’s Day,’ Christian jokes.

  ‘Me too,’ I reply with a little laugh, but then I notice the look on his face.

  ‘You know, being all old and married and stuff,’ I reason.

  Have you seen that movie, Freaky Friday? I’m thinking specifically of the remake with Lindsay Lohan. You know how she and her mum wind up swapping bodies (as you do) and for most of the movie we see Jamie Lee Curtis’s adult character with a teenager trapped inside her? That’s what I feel like. I feel like a teenager in the body of a grown woman, completely out of her depth, trying her hardest to pass herself off as a real adult.

  ‘Right,’ Christian says with a laugh. ‘So, who do you think you’ll dress as?’

  ‘We did a production of Grease, when I was in secondary school, and I was desperate to play Sandy,’ I confess.

  ‘Oh, were you into drama?’ he says.

  ‘Yeah, big time, it was my favourite subject,’ I reply.

  ‘So, did you get the part?’ he asks curiously. ‘You look like you’d make a great Sandy.’

  ‘I was a strong contender,’ I tell him truthfully. ‘But I lost out on the part to another girl.’

  ‘Oh no, so who did you play?’ he asks.

  ‘They said I was perfect for the part of Rizzo, which I tried not to take too much offence to – she’s the best character in Grease anyway – but obviously Sandy is the lead, and gets to sing the most. So, I figured, OK, I can get on board with that, and I spent hours practising singing “There Are Worse Things I Could Do” in the mirror.’

  ‘That’s one of the strongest numbers in Grease anyway,’ Christian says. ‘Reckon you’ve still got it?’

  ‘I didn’t get it then,’ I confess. ‘There were… complications. It’s not worth talking about.’

  ‘Well, maybe you can be Sandy for this,’ he suggests. ‘I might even go as Danny, if I can get my hair to behave.’

  I smile.

  What actually happened was that the role of Sandy was basically mine – until Emma decided she wanted to try out for it too. And if Sandy was too pure to be Pink, then I was decidedly not pure enough to be Sandy. It was quickly suggested I’d make a good Rizzo, because of course it would be, but then they decided that because Emma and I are twins, it would be too confusing for the audience. I got shoved in the choir instead, so I was mostly off stage, apart from when they needed me for the background during the school dance scene. I resented every single move of that hand jive.

  ‘So, you said you had a band in mind,’ I say, moving things along.

  ‘Yes, they’re called The Sound of Musicals, and their speciality is performing covers of songs from musicals, so they’ll be perfect,’ he says. ‘Did you know there are only two bands in the area who perform musical covers?’

  ‘Only two?’ I say with a laugh. ‘Well, you’d better lock one in.’

  ‘I’ll get on it this evening,’ he confirms.

  Christian takes the lid off his pen to make more notes. The lid rolls off the coffee table and onto the floor.

  ‘I’ll get it,’ I insist.

  I get on the floor and feel around under there with my hand until I find it.

  ‘Oh my God, do you have a lower-back tattoo?’ Christian asks.

  I reach behind myself to pull down my top, which must have lifted up when I bent over, before quickly jumping to my feet.

  ‘Pretend you didn’t see that,’ I insist, embarrassed. ‘When I was eighteen and rebellious, I thought a tramp stamp was the way to go. I regret it now but, you know, I don’t really have to look at it.’

  ‘How have I had you so wrong for all these years?’ Christian asks with a smile. ‘I hope you’re not offended by this, but I thought you were just another uptight mum with a passion for the Parents’ Association. You’re not like that at all. I completely misjudged you.’

  ‘Well, you know what people are like around here,’ I say. ‘They’re not very accepting of teenage tattoos, random acts of defiance against the Parents’ Association, and so on. And yet behind closed doors you just know they’re all probably spilling dinner down their Dolce & Gabbana and cheating on their significant others.’

  ‘Are those crimes that are of equal severity?’ Christian asks with an amused grin.

  ‘Probably, in these parts,’ I reply. ‘I’m just saying, no one is as squeaky clean as they make out they are.’

  ‘Well, I’ve never seen any food on your clothes,’ he points out. ‘So maybe I’m just starting to learn that you’re not as squeaky as you seem.’

  ‘Maybe you are,’ I reply with a cheeky smile.

  We’re interrupted by a scream coming from the kitchen. Oh, no, Henry, that poor kid. Now I feel even worse for making him hang out with Calvin. What on earth has happened?

  We both make a dash for the kitchen, and as we get closer the crying gets louder, and now I feel even worse. Henry doesn’t seem like the type to cry so it must be bad.

  By the time we get to the boys I realise that Henry isn’t crying at all – Calvin is.

  Christian squats down beside him, rubbing his shoulders as he consoles him.

  ‘What’s the matter, mate?’ he asks.

  ‘It’s him,’ he sobs, pointing at Henry. ‘He was trying to scare me.’

  ‘I wasn’t trying to scare him,’ Henry insists. ‘I was just telling him about Eaten Alive Alice, who had the bug inside her, and it ate its way out of her stomach like this.’

  Henry mimes with his hands something not dissimilar to that scene from Alien.

  ‘OK, OK,’ I say, getting him to stop.

  ‘I only told him because he likes bugs,’ Henry continues.

  ‘I don’t think that was a bug, I think it was a sea creature of some kind,’ I correct him – why do I correct him?

  I look over at Christian, who is staring at me, clearly horrified too.

  ‘Oh, it’s just something we saw in a museum we went to at the weekend,’ I say casually. ‘A scientific display, about the effects of parasites.’

  It wasn’t at all, it was a gruesome scene of a woman with some kind of creature bursting out of her insides, but we might as well put a positive spin on it.

  ‘I got so scared I dropped Daddy, and the tub opened up, and he ran under the TV,’ Calvin sobs.

  My eyebrows s
hoot up at the thought of a spider running free in the room. I spring up onto the sofa and tuck my legs under my body, pushing to the back of my mind the fact that spiders can climb.

  ‘Oh, God, get rid of it,’ I blurt.

  ‘Don’t get rid of Daddy,’ Calvin screams. ‘He needs to be back in his tub.’

  ‘Don’t worry, mate, I’ll get him,’ Christian reassures him. ‘Under the TV, yeah?’

  The TV is on the wall but there’s a sleek white unit in front of it for things like the Sky box and Henry’s games consoles. Christian gives it a shove – it looks bloody heavy though – moving it just enough to convince Daddy he should make a run for it. I feel a shiver run down my spine as he heads in my direction.

  Daddy is a very questionable name for a spider, for so many reasons. First of all, I was expecting a daddy long legs, but no, it’s one of those chunky house spiders with the thick legs. The only time I hear people use the term daddy to describe not-their-dad is in a kind of sexual way. And then there’s the fact that Calvin clearly has issues since his mum left.

  Oh, it’s so gross. So, so gross, I just want it gone. I let out a girly little squeak, which Marty doesn’t like at all, so he takes it upon himself to intervene, bounding over to the spider and smacking it with his paw, and with that one big smack, I can see from here, Daddy is dead.

  Calvin screams again.

  ‘He’s dead, he’s dead!’

  Christian pulls Calvin close, trying to comfort him with a hug.

  I get down from the sofa to grab Marty’s collar and pull him away, lest he eat Daddy’s curled-up remains.

  ‘Oh, no, Calvin, he’s not dead,’ I lie. ‘He’s just sleeping. I just saw him moving, I think he’s dreaming.’

  ‘Really?’ Calvin replies through his sobs.

  ‘Yeah, totally. Christian, come check,’ I insist.

  Christian catches on to what I’m doing and does as he’s told.

  ‘Oh, yeah, mate, she’s right,’ he reassures his son. ‘I’ll pop him back in his tub and he’ll be fine by morning. He probably just had a scare. Listen, go grab your coat from the hall while I say goodbye to Emma, then we’ll get him home and get him comfortable, OK?’

  ‘OK,’ Calvin replies, wiping his snotty nose on his sleeve.

  ‘Give him a hand, kid,’ I prompt Henry, who reluctantly does as he’s told. I think he’s secretly finding this hilarious. I know I told him I’d buy him a Switch game for today, but I’m pretty sure he’s earned at least two.

  ‘Thanks for that quick thinking,’ Christian tells me once we’re alone.

  ‘Oh, don’t thank me,’ I reply. ‘I’m sorry my son traumatised your son, and that my dog murdered his pet spider.’

  ‘Don’t worry about it – do you know how many times I’ve replaced that spider?’ he says with a smile. ‘I’m not hugely fond of catching them, I find them kind of disgusting too, but we do these things for our kids, right?’

  ‘Right,’ I reply.

  God, do you really have to? You’d never catch me catching a spider – not for anyone, even if my life depended on it!

  ‘Well, I’ll get that band booked, you practise your hand jive,’ he tells me as he heads for the hall.

  ‘Will do,’ I reply.

  ‘And I’ll see you next week, for the spelling bee,’ he says.

  ‘You certainly will,’ I reply. No idea what he’s talking about.

  I close the front door and manage to hold in my laughter until Christian and Calvin are in the car. But then I laugh and laugh and laugh – and Henry laughs too. Even Marty is barking. Well, I don’t know what else to do but laugh; that was just so many kinds of messed up.

  ‘You’ve earned that game, kid,’ I tell Henry as I ruffle his hair. ‘Just… promise me you’ll never mention the freak stuff again, OK? I don’t think everyone is as brave as you.’

  ‘OK, Mum,’ he says. ‘Love you.’

  ‘Love you too,’ I call after him as he charges back into the kitchen, with Marty the spider slayer close by his side.

  I stop in my tracks. I do love him. I really do. I’ve not gone mad – I know I’m not his mum – but, speaking as his auntie, I really, really do love him. And, do you know what? Maybe I would catch a spider for him – that’s how much I love him.

  I’ve not had much family around me for the longest time, and suddenly something inside me has switched on again, that unconditional love that fills your heart.

  Huh. I wasn’t expecting that to happen today. It feels good though.

  25

  Marty drags me down the driveway, eager to get going on his evening walk, even though we’re, y’know, walking already. As far as Marty is concerned the walk doesn’t actually start until we leave the grounds of the house.

  He’s suspicious at first, with it being dark out, but then he wags his tail when he realises it’s Marco standing at the bottom of the driveway.

  ‘I’m glad you’re already here,’ I admit. ‘It’s so dark, and so quiet out.’

  ‘Oh, come on, you know there’s no crime here,’ he says. ‘Maybe the occasional lawn growing a few millimetres too long for the local garden club to tolerate – but with that crime being punishable by death, no one takes the chance.’

  I laugh.

  ‘Marty murdered a pet spider today,’ I tell him. ‘Long story.’

  ‘One long story at a time,’ he says. ‘I’m here for the work gossip.’

  It feels so normal, to have someone to gossip about work with. I like it.

  ‘Right, yeah, where do I begin?’ I wonder out loud.

  ‘Begin asap,’ he replies excitedly. ‘Do you know how long you’ve kept me in suspense?’

  ‘Emma and John had some kind of affair,’ I blurt.

  ‘What? No!’ he replies. ‘Your Emma? Amazing Emma?’

  I nod.

  ‘I can’t believe it either! I think they only kissed – I’m not sure they slept together, but still.’

  ‘So, you kneed him in the balls because…’

  ‘Because he pinned me to the wall and shoved his tongue down my throat,’ I tell him with a little shudder. ‘I think he thought my makeover was for his benefit, and he heard your comments about me and Rich not sleeping in the same bed, and I guess he ran with it. He actually thought I was shagging you.’

  Marco pulls a face.

  ‘Well, don’t say it like that,’ he says, unimpressed. ‘Like it’s something horrible. I’m considered attractive, in some cultures…’

  ‘It’s something horrible if it’s Emma doing it,’ I remind him.

  ‘OK, I’ll let you off,’ he says with a smile. ‘So, there’s Emma’s antics, your suspicions about Rich, Millie and her love life – is everyone at it but me?’

  ‘And me,’ I remind him.

  ‘Am I starting to look attractive now?’ he jokes.

  I give him a playful shove.

  ‘I haven’t spoken to Millie yet,’ I admit. ‘I never really see her. I’m going to make sure I get to talk to her tomorrow, after school.’

  ‘Yeah, sooner the better,’ he says. ‘Get it over with. You’ll feel better once you hear her side of things.’

  ‘Yeah, maybe, unless my fifteen-year-old niece is having sex,’ I say. ‘And I need to find a way to talk to her about it that doesn’t make the idea of breaking the rules sound even more exciting. I’d do anything to break the rules when I was her age, but I was such a scary teen, no one wanted to sleep with me anyway.’

  ‘Well, you’re not scary now,’ he tells me.

  ‘Yeah, I don’t know what my excuse is now,’ I reply.

  ‘Married,’ he tells me. ‘I’d cling on to that one.’

  ‘Cheers,’ I reply with a laugh. ‘I’ve got the night off from being Emma on Saturday. Millie is staying at a friend’s place and Rich is going to entertain Henry. I can’t wait. I really need a break. This is exhausting.’

  ‘It will be over before you know it,’ he reassures me. ‘Then you can go back to being yourself.’r />
  It might sound silly, but, for the first time since I got here, I’m genuinely wondering about what actually happens when all this is over. Having an instant family, house, job, friends, responsibilities – I suppose I’m getting used to them. When all this is over, what do I have? Nothing, that’s what. I’m really going to have to come up with a plan, but not tonight. Tonight, I need to work out how to talk to a teenager about the birds and the bees.

  As soon as I’m back indoors I grab Mum’s book and skim through the chapters on children. I’ve been keeping her book to hand, reading chapters when I have time, or occasionally just flicking through the pages to see her take on different issues.

  I find it almost amusing, how hypocritical some of it is, because, while it might be excellent advice at times, it doesn’t match up with the way we were raised.

  Mum was somehow overly open about so many bodily issues and functions, but a total prude about sex. You would have thought giving us ‘the birds and the bees’ talk would be something she would have been hyped for but, if I remember right, she had the nanny give us booklets. I had to rely on school for sex ed, and we all know how lousy that was twenty years ago.

  In her book, Mum talks about finding the balance between treating your kids like they are children, but also speaking to them as if they’re adults. At first this seems kind of ridiculous but, when I think about it, it makes sense. I should talk to Millie in an age-appropriate way, but I shouldn’t baby her or talk down to her.

  I wish Mum had talked to us like that – it certainly would have made her illness much easier to understand. It was almost as if it was taboo to talk about at times.

  If I do one thing for Millie while I’m here, it should be talking this stuff through with her, and showing her that it’s OK to talk about it. That way, if she does ever need any advice, she’ll know she can go to her mum.

  But just because it’s the right thing to do, doesn’t mean I’m looking forward to it…

  26

  Sitting outside the head teacher’s office – Mrs Robinson is the head of Hammond Hall School – is something that feels like second nature to me. I used to do this all the time, back when I went to school here. They even have the same old wooden bench, fitted into a window seat across from Mrs Robinson’s door, for people waiting to go in.