‘Clean enough, Miss Juliana? Little Four-eyes?’
‘Not any more. I don’t even wear glasses, and your dear mother is showing me the ropes... apparently I inherited my mother’s appalling dress sense. How do you think I look?’
He stood back and looked her up and down. ‘You look okay... yeah, you look okay. Did Mother say when she would be back?’
‘I don’t know, she went to a dinner party.’
‘Oh, so that’s what she calls it nowadays? She screwin’ anyone I would know of?’
‘I’m sure I wouldn’t know...’
‘How’s your father? How’s the Big Bad Wolf?’
‘Apparently bigger and badder, you know the way he is.’
‘I like him. You remember that Christmas I came over — best Christmas I ever had. I got this great car, a police car with sirens.’
They sat drinking their coffee. He seemed miles away, deep in thought. Jinks felt herself constantly wanting to look at him, his eyes, his hair, his delicate bone structure. He had always been a good-looking boy; now he was really exceptionally handsome. His eyes were as dark as her father’s, but his lashes were thick and long as a girl’s. As if he were reading her mind, he looked up to meet her gaze... and he smiled, the sweetest of smiles.
‘I couldn’t hit you for a couple of hundred, could I? It’s just I’m a bit desperate, you know the old man keeps me short, in the hope I’ll behave, ha, ha, ha. I’ll pay you back.’
As Jinks reached for her handbag, he leaned close and cupped her chin in his hand. She stared into his face, and it was over in a second... he simply bent his head and kissed her lips. It was a gentle kiss, a simple ‘thank you’. She blushed, and he touched her cheek with his hand, then watched as she counted out the notes. He kissed them as she held them out, then he walked into the bedroom, dropping the towel and reaching for his trousers just as Barbara walked in. She was a little tipsy, carrying a large bouquet of flowers and a magnum of champagne, calling out as she entered, ‘Jinks, we have been invited by Count Emilio de...’
Barbara stared at her half-naked son, hopping into his trousers, then at Jinks. There was a moment when none of them said a word. The flowers were thrown aside, and Barbara snapped, ‘What the hell has been going on here?’
Evelyn sauntered in from the bedroom. ‘Just came round to see you. You weren’t in, so we decided to have a fuck, so that’s what’s been going on, okay? No harm done, Mother.’
Evelyn ducked as Barbara went for him, grabbed him by the hair and slapped his face. She was screaming incoherently, and received in return a slap that sent her reeling across the room. He picked up his boots and jacket, backing away from his mother.
‘You’re sick, you know that? I need some cash, that’s all I came for, the only reason I ever come to see you. So where’s your bag?’
Jinks tried to intervene, but he pushed past her, picked up his mother’s evening bag, tipped out the contents and took what money she had, stuffing it into his pocket. Jinks went and helped Barbara to her feet — she was shaking badly, and her cheek was inflamed where he had slapped her.
Evelyn finished dressing, stamping his feet into his boots, and Barbara never said a word. As if his mother weren’t in the room, he smiled at Jinks, thanked her for a pleasant evening, and walked out.
Barbara examined her face in the mirror. She was calm, back in control. Patting her hair, she turned to Jinks. ‘I think you had better tell me what’s been going on.’
Jinks shrugged her shoulders and began picking up the flowers. ‘Nothing, he just came round to see you, and you weren’t here.’
‘Oh, I’m sure! Don’t treat me like an imbecile, darling, I’m not your mother, and I’m a damn sight sharper than you give me credit for, so give me the truth — just what has been going on between you two? Has he been sneaking in to see you while I’ve been out? Has he?’
Jinks felt faintly disgusted, and repeated that nothing had been going on, it was all a misunderstanding. Barbara whipped round on her; the fashion-plate-duchess act dropped, replaced by the old toughness she had spent so many years trying to disguise.
‘Look, sweetheart, who do you think you’re kidding? And don’t think I like doing this, but I walk in to find my son fucking naked in your bedroom — what the hell do you think I’m gonna think is going on, you tell me?’
Jinks could feel her temper rising, and she faced Barbara. Her sweet ‘butter wouldn’t melt in my mouth’ act dropping as fast as Barbara’s. ‘I don’t think it’s any of your business, but if you want to know, he came round to see you. You weren’t here, he took a bath, and he was just getting dressed when you walked in... And I don’t like your attitude, or your assumption that I have, in your words, been fucking your son. That may be your style, or your daughters’, but it isn’t mine.’
‘My, my, how the little mouse turns.’
‘I’ve had a very good teacher.’
‘So, are you going to see him again?’
‘Oh, for goodness’ sake, Barbara, does it matter?’
‘Yes — he’s no good, and don’t think I don’t know how attractive a little bastard he is. He’s been putting himself about since he was fourteen years old, and I just wanna know if you are intending to see him again? Are you telling me you didn’t find him attractive?’
Jinks took a deep breath and, keeping her voice calm, suggested that Barbara drop the subject. It had been a misunderstanding and it was best forgotten. Barbara took two brandy glasses from the cocktail cabinet and smiled. She was quieter, calmer now.
‘Yeah, I guess that’s what you call jumping the gun, to put it mildly. I guess that’s down to my own promiscuous, ill-spent youth. I can’t help it if I presume every girl’s a woman after my own libido! Here, take it, you might need it.’
She handed Jinks a large brandy. Jinks wondered if Barbara was drunk; if she was about to divulge her past indiscretions she really didn’t want to hear them. Quietly and firmly she refused the drink, sounding rather scathing even to herself.
Barbara smirked. ‘Christ, you know, sometimes you are so like your father. Here, take it, it’s good brandy... The cold, vocal put-down doesn’t wash with me, but give you time, sweetheart. You have the killer instinct, I can feel it, and you know why I know? Because once he put me down, he did it just like that...’
Barbara snapped her fingers, drained her glass and refilled it immediately. Jinks could feel a strange sensation, as if she were stepping out of her body, protecting herself, moving away from a danger — but what, she couldn’t grasp. Barbara lit a cigarette, allowed the smoke to drift out of her nostrils, and stared at Jinks through the haze.
‘I married Alex before I met Edward, and it’s obvious to anyone who meets them which one my type of woman would go for. Oh, they were both good-looking, but...’
Barbara was twisting the cigarette, her long, bright-red nails like talons. ‘I would have left Alex, if he’d wanted me to, but he was using me like he uses everyone who walks into his life.’ Suddenly she stubbed out the cigarette, grinding it, then looked directly at Jinks. ‘Evelyn is his son. I’m surprised you couldn’t tell just by looking at him. Apparently your mother knew, that Christmas, that time he came over to see you all. She knew, she must have realized then. Perhaps that was what made her go crazy... I know she’d been sick before, but that time sort of finished her off.’
Jinks closed her eyes. There was the nightmare of her mother cradling the doll, holding it to her naked breast... She could hear the pounding of her father running up the stairs, dragging the terrified Jinks away from the sight of her mother’s madness.
Her voice betrayed nothing of her emotional state. ‘Does Evelyn know?’