Another Life Altogether: A Novel - By Elaine Beale Page 0,11
she went, whipping it out of her massive PVC handbag whenever the opportunity to make a pitch for her products arose. She hosted Tupperware parties as well, and she seemed convinced that all my mother needed was a little makeup and a few fully sealable sandwich containers to set her all to rights.
“You should come over to my house next Saturday,” Mabel said, flicking the ash of her cigarette with a glossy red fingernail filed to a hazardous point. She and my mother had spent twenty minutes halfheartedly tossing items into boxes when Mabel decided that it was time to retreat to the kitchen for a cup of tea. I’d been told to keep on wrapping my mother’s best glasses in old copies of the Hull Daily Mail, but after a few minutes I got bored and followed them. Mabel had taken off her shoes and had her feet up on one of the chairs; she was wiggling her stocking-covered toes and blowing long puffs of cigarette smoke into the air. My mother sat hunched over the kitchen table, her teacup nestled in both hands.
“We’re going to have cheese sticks and some of those little hot-dog sausages,” Mabel continued. “And I’m going to do a makeup demo on the woman who lives next door. Ooh, you should see the state of her, Evelyn. A right bloody mess, she is. Set myself a challenge there, I have. Mind you, you’ve got to feel sorry for the lass. I mean, seven bleeming kids and another one on the way. If I was her, I’d make my husband tie a knot in it, I really would. Either that or chop the damn thing off.” She flashed me a look. “Ooh, I suppose I shouldn’t go saying such things in front of such tender young ears, should I?”
I rolled my eyes toward the ceiling. I hated it when adults pretended they felt some sort of obligation to censor themselves in front of me. At least I was past the age when they thought that spelling things out would leave me bewildered.
“Oh, I don’t care,” Mabel said, waving a thick ribbon of cigarette smoke from in front of her face. “You’re going to have to learn sooner or later that all men are bastards, isn’t she, Evelyn? I mean, I should know. I’ve been out with more of them than I care to mention. And not one of them was what I considered marriage material. Mind you,” she said, slapping her pink, plump hand down on the table. “I might have been better off if I’d ruled out the ones that were married already.” She laughed, throwing her head back so I could see the rows of gray fillings in her back teeth.
“Oh, you are terrible, you Mabel,” my mother said, darting her tongue across her crinkled lips. “And you’re right—you shouldn’t go saying such things in front of Jesse. You know how easily influenced young girls are.”
I rolled my eyes again. “Mum …” I protested, wanting to suggest that if she was so concerned about the influences in my life she might try exerting a few more positive ones herself.
“Oh, don’t you worry, Ev. Our Jesse’s a sensible lass, aren’t you, love? And when she gets married, I’m sure—”
“I’m not getting married,” I interrupted. “And I’m not having children.” Those were two things I was certain of. As far as I could tell, people who were married were never happy. And those who had children were downright miserable. My own parents were definitely a case in point. While my mother was probably the unhappiest person I knew, Auntie Mabel—unmarried, childless, and currently without what she referred to as a “fella”—was indefatigably cheerful. Though sometimes I had the feeling that even her cheeriness was forced, slapped on with the same overstatement as her shimmery blue eye shadow.
“Of course you’ll get married,” Mabel said, swatting the air dismissively as I opened my mouth to protest. “I expect even I’ll take the plunge one of these days. Just got to find the right man—rich, stupid, and just about to kick the bucket!” She barked out another laugh, then took a puff of her cigarette before leaning across the table to crush the lipstick-ringed butt. As she bent forward, I could see down the front of her dress, the deep slit of her cleavage and the massive pale mounds of her breasts spilling over the top of her pink lacy bra. Her whole chest was like two well-stuffed