Page 83 of How Much Wine Will Fix My Broken Heart?
‘That’s awful. You must buy me a fridge magnet to make it up to me.’
‘Will do,’ he mutters, observing a young girl who speeds into the reptile house past us. His eyes follow her as she makes an ungodly noise, trying to test the acoustics of this place. ‘By the way, if I haven’t said it already, stellar job with those girls of yours. They’re kinda brilliant.’
‘That they are… It’s not from me.’
He gives me a strange look. ‘I think you’ll find that it is. I always knew you’d rock the mum thing. I mean, you could have a glass-licker, like that one over there.’
I turn around to see Doug gesturing at the noisy little girl who raced in here before. Don’t do that, honey. Tree frogs are in that exhibit and tree frogs are poisonous as fuck. How do I know you, though? I’ve seen you before licking glass at… school.
‘Oh, Grace… it’s you.’
The hairs on the back of my neck literally straighten like darts. Carrie. Really? How apt I would bump into this woman in a reptile house. It’s like that speaking snake from Harry Potter. But before I can say a word, I see her eyes scan down to Joe and over to Doug. It’s too late to dash over and hide by the giant Perspex iguana, isn’t it?
‘Carrie…’
And suddenly, a wave of guilt, or maybe bile, rises to the surface as I see Liz behind her and realise I know something Carrie doesn’t. You’re here too? Two snakes. I don’t quite know what to do.
‘I didn’t realise you had another child,’ she says, peering into the stroller.
‘No, this is my nephew.’
And this isn’t some other random lover of mine, this is my Doug. I don’t say that out loud. But I am super glad it’s him sitting here and not any of my sisters.
‘And this is my… brother.’
Doug nods, maybe not in agreement but in a way that tells me he’ll play along. ‘Yes, I am Doug. I’m here for the weekend to see…’ I make eye contact with him to let him know that these two gossips don’t need to know anything about the memorial. ‘… my nieces and this lovely zoo. They have leopards.’
‘Oh…’ Carrie says, still scanning, wondering if Doug might be a bit socially inept. Seriously, scan over there and watch your daughter before she licks a bin. Doug can sense the atmosphere but it really is too much to break down with just the blink of my eyes. She’s a bitch. There was biting, Doug.
‘Well…’
‘So…’
It’s a back and forth of single words. How do I tell you that the biggest snake in here might be your best mate?
‘Anyway…’
‘Youneed to show me the monkeys, sis…’ Doug says. Christ, he’s a shit actor.
‘That I do, bro…’
He laughs, just as Joe wakes up to see us both and realise that we’re not his parents. Definitely time to leave. We put our hands up to wave, awkwardly, and I push the stroller away as quick as humanly possible.
‘What’s the beef there then?’ Doug mutters as soon as we’re out of earshot.
‘Big salty school-gate beef. I’ll tell you over a coffee…’
‘That I assume I’m buying?’
‘Of course…’
But as we get to the plastic swing doors, I stop for a moment, still hearing Carrie’s voice echo around that dark, still space. I think of my mum, my sisters, but, most of all, Tom. When do you jump in the path to stop people getting hurt? When do they deserve your kindness, your help, your protection? Despite how bloody awful they can be, maybe that answer is always. Tom would say, always. It’s just the way you go about it. He was the sort of person who would talk to his best mate wherever he was, lend complete strangers his socks. He’d fix this in some way.
‘Doug, can you push Joe over to the kiosk? I just need to do something.’
‘And not let me watch?’ Doug replies, almost disappointed. ‘Do your thing. If it descends into a brawl, protect your face. I’ll be your alibi.’ He wanders off, laughing. I hope Joe doesn’t think he’s being kidnapped.
I slink back into the shadows of the reptile house and wait for a moment, watching the kids and adults move and stare between all the different cages and tubes, their faces all backlit by the pale fluorescent light. When she’s on her own, I finally make my move.
