Page 41 of A Clean Sweep
‘Well, I’m sure you made a delightful bumble bee. I’m sorry we made you bring that one up, but it does sort of lead to my own misadventures in my misspent youth. In a convoluted kind of way.’ Steve had squeezed Meryl’s hand in a gesture of support, but was looking distinctly agitated. What next, thought Tabitha? Was he about to reveal a past life as a male stripper? Or a drag queen? Little did she know she was closer to the truth than she could imagine.
Steve inhaled deeply, exhaled loudly then began.
‘It was back in the early eighties and me and a few friends decided to form a tribute band. It started as a bit of a joke but we ended up playing quite a lot of gigs and making reasonable money. Who knows, it might have led to bigger things, but a bunch of Aussies had the same idea and went on to be a huge success all over the world. So, it just petered out for us. Probably just as well, really.’
Meryl, Tabitha and Adam were deep in thought; each trying to figure out which band Steve and his mates had paid homage to. The lightbulb moment came – not surprisingly – to Meryl.
‘Oh my God! You were an ABBA tribute band, weren’t you? It just dawned on me; the Aussie ones who made it big were Bjorn Again. Am I right? Ooh, please tell me I’m right!’
Meryl was clapping her hands in glee while Adam and Tabitha exchanged a look that said, who’d have thought it? Privately, both would have guessed some hairy, heavy rock combo with a young Steve smashing guitars and thrusting his pelvis with great gusto.
‘Spot on, Meryl. We did indeed impersonate the fab four Swedes. It lasted a couple of years but work commitments got in the way and eventually we just drifted apart.’
‘Which one were you, Steve? I bet it was Bjorn. I always thought he was cuter than Benny. You remind me of him a little bit, although without the beard. This is so amazing!Tabitha, does Steve know I’m one of ABBA’s biggest fans? No, of course he doesn’t, silly me. Go on, tell us more!’
Meryl was practically fizzing with delight that she and Steve had established such a special connection. Tabitha was delighted – hadn’t she prayed they’d hit it off? – but there was more to come, if Steve’s furrowed brow was anything to go by.
‘Well, the thing is … we thought it’d be fun to mix things up a little. As I said, it was all a laugh to begin with. We were four blokes which meant two of us performed as the girls. And I was one of them. Agnetha, the blonde one. Complete with wig and blue eyeshadow.’
Fifteen minutes later and they were in the car park of Where the Hearth Is, still contorted with laughter. Adam was begging Steve for photographic evidence of his brief career as a female singer. Steve maintained no such evidence existed and refused to divulge the name of the group lest they were uncovered on the internet in all their spangly, platform-soled glory.
As Meryl and Tabitha bade their farewells, Steve gave them each a big hug in turn. Tabitha noticed that his embrace with Meryl lasted slightly longer and that her boss was positively glowing. So, Steve’s previous penchant for short kimonos and dodgy make-up hadn’t put her off.
Climbing into the car – Tabitha had stuck to one glass of bubbly – she turned to Meryl.
‘That seemed to go rather well, don’t you think? Bit of a surprise, Steve’s confession but he is a lovely man, isn’t he? And I hope you liked Adam. You certainly seemed to hit it off!’
Meryl giggled again – there’d been a lot of giggling in the last couple of hours – and swiped Tabitha playfully and rather tipsily with her hand.
‘Adam is divine and as for Steve … I knew what you were upto, my darling Tabbie. Trying to fix me up with a new man. I’m not completely daft, you know! But I think you might just have succeeded. Not only is he charming and good-looking but he likes Abba!’ With a contented smile, Meryl settled back in her seat.Mission accomplished, thought Tabitha.
Chapter 27
High noon, weapons drawn, dust thingies bouncing across the heat-baked soil. Shame it was about eleven degrees, drizzling and the best they had to arm themselves with were slices of quiche Lorraine or a smoked salmon and cream cheese combo. The good, the bad and the calorie-laden. If it all went horribly wrong, they could club each other over the head with the complimentary bread sticks.
Three breadsticks later and Celeste spotted Sophie conversing with the earnest young woman in charge of tables. She pointed enthusiastically towards Celeste – yeh, old dear in need of company – and Sophie made her way across. With a face that resembled a bulldog who’d just chewed a wasp then decided a squirt of lemon juice was the perfect chaser. Oh dear. Was thisreallya good idea?
‘So. You wanted to talk? I’m not sure what the point is but I’m all ears.’ Sophie was also chewing on a breadstick and fixing Celeste with a look that said, ‘Don’t mess with me or I’ll zap you with my death ray. Which means you’ll be a pileof ashes in seconds. And I’ll have no qualms about scooping you into a hankie and depositing you in a bin when I leave.’
Come to think of it, she did have quite distinctive ears. Volcanic, was that the word? Certainly pointy and quivering with emotion right now.
'Look, Sophie, I'm as amazed as you are that we're sitting here like this. Thank you for agreeing to come. I just thought we should have a chat, clear the air a little.'
Two pink spots flared like beacons on Sophie's cheeks as she snapped another breadstick in half with brutal precision. Celeste gulped and clutched her throat nervously.
'Clear the air? Clear the air? It'll take a bit more than flinging a few windows open and squirting some air freshener to clear up this sorry mess. Metaphorically speaking, of course. Have you really grasped the damage you've done? I've spent all these years desperate to have a father while you did everything in your power to keep us apart. It's all about Celeste with you. Cocooned in your safe little world, Michael catering to your every whim. Fine, you didn't want children. But he already had one.Me! But you made sure that door stayed firmly closed.'
And if they hadn't bumped into each other, would that still be the case? Would Celeste and Michael have been able to preserve the status quo? Suddenly, like an explosion in her head, Celeste knew her world would have collapsed eventually. If not this year or next, then sometime in the near future. Maybe when the boys were a little older and started asking questions. Do we have a granddad? Where is he? Can we go see him? Sophie and her sons were part of her husband, their DNA interwoven for eternity. She was a mere side road, a diversion. She loved Michael – and believed he still loved her – but if it came down to a straight choice there was no doubt who held the winning hand. Sophie and her boys were the aces in the pack, Celeste the Joker. And not aparticularly clever or amusing one. More the hapless court jester whose inability to entertain the king would soon lead to her grizzly demise. Sophie certainly looked as if a hooded axe man would be a welcome addition to their table right now. Celeste decided a spot of lunch would be preferable.
'Shall we order? I'm really quite peckish.' Which was an outright lie as her stomach was churning like a washing machine on spin cycle. Plus, she'd forgotten her reading glasses so everything on the laminated menu was a total blur. 'What do you fancy, Sophie? I'll just have what you're having, if you don't mind.' She stared hopefully at the younger woman, who was beckoning to the waitress on the other side of the room. She hurried over, pen and pad at the ready.
'So, what can I get you ladies? Today's pea and mascarpone soup is totally fab and I can also recommend the courgette fritters with goats' cheese and red onion chutney. Or we do a pretty spectacular frittata with mixed salad and the best home-made dressing you'll ever taste!'
Before Celeste could comment, Sophie turned to the waitress with a smile that completely transformed her pale little face. From bulldog to beauty in the blink of an eye.
'We'll both have the soup and a smoked salmon sandwich on wholemeal bread, thank you. And a large bottle of mineral water. Sparkling OK?’ She waited for Celeste to nod her assent, the smile retreating as quickly as the waitress’s departing back.
'This is a nice place, isn't it?' Celeste felt the need to fill the awkward silence that had descended in the minutes since their order had been taken. 'Funny, I'd never have found it if I hadn't followed your dad that day …' Her voice wavered as Sophie gave another of her Medusa-strength glares. Probablynotthe wisest move, harking back to the memorable moment she'd accused father and daughter of having an affair. If she was to get Sophie on side – OK, at leastpersuade her that Celeste wasn't a malevolent old bag hell-bent on ruining her life – she needed a more tactful approach. Think, Celeste, think!
