He shook his head, shut Erica’s profile down and turned his computer off. Look who was poking at old wounds just because he could. Pete had nothing to do with his little pity fest just now.
Stupid man, he told himself. You’re happy as you are.
But, as he wandered into the kitchen to eat yet another tiny box of cereal – a poor substitution for Ellen’s spag bol – he couldn’t help thinking about what it would be like to have a little mini version of himself like Pete had, and just whether that might plug the growing hole inside him, the one that seemed to widen every time he got on an aeroplane.
They’d already started watching the film when Claire heard someone slide in the door and shuffle into a seat at the back. She waited a few moments then glanced nonchalantly over her shoulder.
Abby. That was a surprise. When she’d been absent at the usual start time, Claire had assumed they’d seen the last of her.
As Teacher’s Pet rolled on, Claire found her thoughts returning to the newest member of the Doris Day Film Club more than once. Although Abby seemed out of place in their little group, Claire couldn’t help thinking that maybe fate had brought her their way. There was a lost quality about her that made Claire think of a scared stray animal.
If Abby’s mother was as demanding as she sounded, Claire suspected they were on a losing mission right from the start. However, Abby had come to them for help, and for that reason alone they would try. Doris herself would almost certainly approve – although the strays she championed since her retirement from Hollywood tended to be the furry, four-legged kind.
In a strange way, Abby reminded Claire of the Clark Gable character in Teacher’s Pet. He played a ‘tough as nails’ journalist who had a chip on his shoulder about other people getting the education he’d been denied. While Claire didn’t think Abby had a chip on her shoulder about being a girl, she’d done what the hard-nosed newspaper man had done – instead of trying, she’d just given up and turned her comfort zone into a fortress.
‘God, how I love that film,’ Candy said, as the lights went back on again and the credits rolled. ‘I love the fact that Doris was playing intelligent career women who could hold their own against any man back in the late fifties, before it was really fashionable. That scene where she tells Clark Gable off in the lift is pure gold dust.’
Bev and Maggs murmured their agreement.
‘Despite the huge age gap between Clark and Doris, it still works as a romance,’ Peggy said, joining the discussion. ‘The characters are unusually three-dimensional for a romantic comedy.’
Kitty giggled. ‘My favourite bit is when Clark kisses Doris in her office, taking her by surprise, and her legs buckle under her when she walks back to her desk.’
Grace sighed. ‘I want to be kissed like that one day.’
Everyone turned and looked at her. It was the most she’d said all evening.
‘Don’t we all,’ Maggs added dryly, and the whole room had a chuckle, including Abby, who then flushed and looked at the floor.
Claire stood up. ‘Before we all head off tonight, I want us to put our heads together and see if we can find a way to help our newest member.’ She glanced at Abby, who now looked as if she was about to slide off her seat and under the table. Claire understood the urge to squirm when one was the focus of attention better than anyone, but there wasn’t any other way, and this was what Abby had asked of them, after all.
‘Watching films is all well and good, and we all know Doris had impeccable style, but I think we probably have it within our small group to offer some practical help too.’ She turned to look at Candy specifically, who had a very sensible head on her shoulders and always looked stylish, but Kitty started bouncing in her seat.
‘We’d love to help, wouldn’t we, Grace?’
Grace nodded coolly.
‘We’ve already talked about it,’ Kitty added.
Abby looked warily from one to the other. ‘You have?’
The vintage girls, both in red and white polka dots this week – Kitty with white on red, Grace with red on white – looked at each other before continuing.
‘If you’d let us … We’d really like to give you a makeover.’
Abby looked shocked, as if she’d just been announced the next Miss Universe, and maybe just as tearful. ‘You’d do that? For me?’
Both girls nodded. ‘You’d be helping us really. We love doing makeovers,’ Kitty said, ‘but Grace says she’s getting bored doing them on just me. What we really need is a fresh canvas.’
‘Fresh meat, more like,’ Maggs muttered under her breath.
‘Are you up for it?’ Kitty asked, nodding encouragingly.
‘Um … I think so.’
‘Great!’ Kitty said, clapping her hands together. ‘How about we do it before the next film club meeting?
Abby looked nervously between them. ‘I don’t know. Maybe.’
‘We’re going to have so much fun,’ Kitty said brightly, as she stood up, and she and Grace linked arms and scurried away, plotting furiously as they disappeared down the stairs.
The rest of the club members started to drift after them, but before Abby escaped, Claire went over to her. ‘Are you okay with the whole makeover idea? It’s fine to say if you’re not.’
Abby looked grim for a few long moments. ‘I’m as fine as I’m ever going to be with it, and I’ll never get those tickets if I don’t, so I suppose I’ll just have to do it, no matter how I feel about it.’
‘Is it a special match?’
Claire expected Abby to nod just as emphatically, but instead she looked flustered and her cheeks grew pinker. ‘Kind of …’ She looked at her trainers as she scuffed the offensively patterned carpet with one of them. Eventually, she looked up at Claire from under her hair. ‘It’s not so much who’s playing, but who I was hoping to ask to go with me.’ And then she blushed even harder.
‘A boy?’
Abby’s eyes stayed on the carpet. She nodded. ‘I’ve known him since we were in primary school together. We bonded over a shared love of football and we’ve been friends ever since, it’s just … every time I look at him, things seem to go a bit weird.’
Claire nodded. She remembered feeling that way about boys when she was Abby’s age, that swirly feeling in her stomach when you thought about them. The little kick of your pulse when you knew you were going to see them.
‘Does he feel the same way?’
Abby’s face told Claire everything she needed to know. ‘I’m just “Abs” to him, his mate with the killer left foot, but I thought maybe if we could get away from the other lads, have some time on our own …’
Ah, it was all starting to make sense now: Abby’s sudden and desperate need to embrace her hitherto undiscovered feminine side, why she’d come back to the Doris Day Film Club.
‘Can’t you talk to your mum about this? If you told her why you wanted the tickets, she might understand.’
Abby shook her head, her lips a thin line. ‘All she wanted after two boys was a daughter she could fuss over and dress up and go shopping with, and instead she got me. I’m just one huge disappointment to her. She just thinks