19
Maggie had fixed me up with a new project ghosting for teenage twins who had rowed the Atlantic, so I didn’t see much of Leanne and Scarlett over the next couple of months. Well, I didn’t see them in the flesh, but it was hard to pick up a red-top without being aware of ‘Scarlett’. Between the teasers for the new TV show and paparazzi shots of her staggering out of clubs in the small hours, often with Joshu, the coverage must have plastered a smile all over George’s face.
When I finally resurfaced from the Atlantic, I met Scarlett for lunch near the production offices for her new show, Real Life TV. We settled into a corner booth with a bottle of Prosecco and a couple of bowls of pasta and she passed me a bundle of photos. There was a clutch of recent shots of Jimmy, who looked cuter with every passing month. I’d surprised myself by how attached I’d grown to him. I’d missed his cuddles and giggles while I’d been locked down with someone else’s book. ‘He’s started pulling himself up on the furniture,’ Scarlett said fondly. ‘He’s into everything. I tell you, Steph, it’s been a real bonus having Leanne around. She’s really good with him. Now Jimmy’s on the move, it’s great having an extra pair of hands on deck.’ She chopped her spaghetti up with the side of her fork and began spooning it in while I studied the photos.
As well as the pics of Jimmy, there were several shots of Leanne looking weirdly similar to Scarlett. I could only tell the difference because I was looking for it. ‘It doesn’t confuse him? With her looking so much like you? Because I have to tell you, Scarlett, the resemblance is uncanny.’
She swallowed a mouthful of pasta, shaking her head. ‘Doesn’t seem to. If we’re both in the room he heads for me. I read somewhere that they go by smell as much as by sight. Obviously I smell different from Leanne.’ She grinned. ‘That’ll be the smelly Irish tinker in her.’ She held her hands up defensively when she saw the look on my face. ‘I’m only winding you up,’ she said. ‘You’re so easy, Steph.’
‘And you’re so bad. It’s great that Jimmy’s OK with Leanne. What about Joshu?’
‘He seems pretty chilled about it all. It means he gets to go out with a woman on his arm when he’s not actually working. And because we’re not arguing all the time, things between us got a bit sweeter. Which means it’s good all round. All I got to do is make sure nobody susses it out.’
‘How long are you planning on keeping this up?’
Scarlett frowned at her food, poking it with her spoon as if she expected it to develop independent life. ‘Obviously, not for ever.’
‘Obviously. But do you have some sort of timescale in mind? Is there a master plan?’
She gave me a sharp look. ‘Are you taking the piss?’
‘No, no way. If I’ve learned one thing about you, it’s your capacity to wrong-foot me. The predictable thing here would be for you to be clueless about the endgame. But I’ve spent enough time with you now to know that you wouldn’t have set the ball rolling without having a pretty good idea where you want it to end up. I shouldn’t have said, “Is there a master plan?” I should have said, “What’s the master plan?”’
Scarlett ate another mouthful of pasta. Then another. ‘Sort of,’ she said eventually.
‘Do you want to share it? Or is it going to be another one of your bloody surprises?’
‘I want to get my TV show established. It’s time to show people the truth. That there’s more to me than they think. And when that begins to dawn on them, I’ll get Leanne to start tapering off the night life.’ She gave me the familiar piratical grin. ‘Then you can write a load of articles about how I’m a new woman, a reformed character. How motherhood transformed me. I’ll be so boring the paps might just decide to leave me alone.’
‘And what’s going to happen to Leanne?’
‘I’ve bought her a nice place in Spain, up in the mountains.
There’s a big expat community up there. The property’s got a pool house, she can set up a nail boutique there. Her own little business. Obviously, she’ll have to go back to being brunette, maybe cut her hair short.’ She shrugged.
There was a ruthlessness to Scarlett’s planning that I almost admired. But not quite. I pushed my plate away. ‘And you think she’ll settle for that?’
‘Why not? A haircut and a dye job? It’s not much of a price to pay for being well set up at her age.’
‘I meant, giving up the party life. From what I’ve seen of Leanne, it’s meat and drink to her. She’s found her calling, Scarlett. Being out on the tiles at somebody else’s expense is her vocation. Why would she cheerfully give up all that fun for the expats up in the mountains in Spain?’
Scarlett’s surly expression wouldn’t have been out of place on a teenager. ‘Because that’s the deal. She knew when she took it on that it was only temporary. And she’s OK with that.’
‘I’ll take your word for it,’ I said, not meaning it.
As it turned out, I was right about Leanne creating problems. Only they weren’t the problems I’d expected.
Three weeks later, I turned up at the hacienda without phoning ahead. I’d been up in Suffolk, being interviewed by a comedienne looking for someone to write her memoir of fifty years in the laughter game (her pitch, not mine . . .) and we’d wrapped up earlier than I’d anticipated. Mostly because I’d loathed the woman within five minutes of meeting her and I couldn’t be bothered to push for the job. Scarlett’s memoir was still selling well in the paperback charts and the rowing book was due out soon, so cashflow wasn’t an issue. And Maggie had tipped me the wink about a retail entrepreneur who wanted to write a book about leadership which sounded a lot more interesting.
So I’d escaped early from the suffocating knick-knack heaven inhabited by the comedienne. Rather than head straight home, I decided to call on Jimmy and his harem. I was out of luck, however. Marina had taken him to a toddler playgroup for the afternoon, and Scarlett was having a final wardrobe fitting for Real Life TV. Joshu was somewhere. Leanne had no idea where except that it wasn’t there. She was home alone and I was surprised by the effusiveness of her greeting. Don’t get me wrong, we’d always got on fine. But today she seemed both relieved and pleased that she had me to herself.
Leanne made coffee and raked in the cupboard for biscuits. ‘I’m glad you stopped in,’ she said. She produced a box of organic wholemeal biscuits in the shape of gingerbread men. ‘Do you want one of these? Jimmy loves them.’ She looked dubious.
‘I’m OK,’ I said. ‘How’s things?’
‘Well, that’s just it,’ she said, settling in with the air of a woman who has much to impart and generations of imparting behind her. ‘On the face of it, everything’s hunky-dory. I’m getting my face in the papers, Scarlett’s getting her beauty sleep and nobody suspects a thing.’
‘But . . . ? I’m hearing a “but” in there.’
Leanne fiddled with the handle of her mug. ‘Can we go outside? I’m gagging for a fag and Scarlett doesn’t like us smoking in the house. With Jimmy, you know?’
I followed her out into the garden. Weak sunlight made us both look anaemic and there was no heat in it. But it was better than being shut indoors with Leanne’s cigarette smoke. We hunkered down on a couple of curved wooden benches that looked across a pond where bored goldfish pottered around among the water lilies. I wondered whether it should be fenced off now Jimmy was mobile.
‘Not that Joshu pays any attention,’ Leanne continued. ‘He smokes whatever he likes, wherever he likes. And Scarlett lets him get away with it. She spoils Joshu more than she spoils Jimmy.’
‘Maybe that’s because Jimmy’s still young enough to learn.’