“Do you mean cathartic?”
“Probably.” Suki was about to say something else when her mobile phone pinged with a text. She took it out of her jacket pocket. “Hmm.” She grimaced as she read the message.
Martha ran a finger over her scratchy eyelashes and thought about Zelda’s instruction to bring someone to dinner. She wasn’t sure if Suki classed herself as a friend yet, or if she still belonged in the acquaintance category. But they had shared a unique experience together, with the dragon’s head and her makeover. Although Suki was young and might have other offers on the table, it might help to distract her from thinking about Ben. “You said that you’re not busy...” she started. “Perhaps you’d like to join me at my nana’s house for dinner?”
“Oh.” Suki wrinkled her nose. “Sorry, but I’ve just had a text from Ben. He wants to pick up some stuff and chat. I’ll have to stay in, though I’d much prefer to go out with you.” She stuffed her cosmetic bag back into her handbag. “It’s probably time to give him my culmination.”
Martha wished she could do something to help, but no longer wanted to suggest counseling or working things out. “Ben’s an idiot,” she blurted. “For letting you go.”
Suki froze, with her hand in her bag, before she straightened her back. “Yes, he is. Thank you, Martha.”
“Zelda told me to bring a guest, but it’s not essential to my attendance.”
Suki thought for a while. She zipped up her handbag and slung it on her shoulder. “You could invite Owen instead,” she said.
Martha shook her head rapidly. Her new hairstyle felt swishy. “I can’t do that.”
“Why not?”
“He’s probably busy. He’s had several wives...”
“Is he one of those polygon people?”
“No. He didn’t have them all at once, and he doesn’t have one at the moment.”
“Good. I’ll call and ask him then, if you like?”
Martha shook her head again, even more profusely. “Oh no. I wouldn’t want to intrude.”
“Maybe he’ll want to meet Zelda. I’d make it sound very consensual.”
Martha hoped she meant casual. She didn’t speak.
Suki raised an eyebrow. “Okay,” she said, with an exaggerated shrug. “It’s your choice.”
Martha was about to say no a further time when she caught sight of her reflection in the window. Would she say no to Joe, if she could relive her time again? Or would she take a chance?
She knew the answer.
She also didn’t want Gina and Zelda to think that she didn’t have any proper friends, even if she didn’t have. She owed Owen a thank-you for his research, and an apology for going to Monkey Puzzle Books without him. She looked at Suki and saw the disappointment etched on her face. After everything she’d done for her today, Martha wanted to please her.
“Well, perhaps you could ask him,” she said, instantly regretting it. “Though I’m sure he’ll be otherwise occupied.”
Suki broke into a smile. She picked up her phone and shook it in the air. “I’ll take this into the kitchen, before you change your mind,” she said. “You stay here.” Then she vanished out of the room.
Martha sat on her hands in case they started to shake. She wondered what the heck she’d just agreed to. Of course, Owen wouldn’t want to join her, but it would make Suki happy to call him.
She hummed a little tune to herself as she waited, wondering where to buy tiramisu. She’d have to find one with good quality ingredients and which looked authentically Italian. A supermarket one probably wouldn’t pass muster.
There was also the matter of her clothes. Now she had new hair and a new face, did her old clothes match?
When Suki reemerged from the kitchen, she wore a triumphant smile.
Martha found her own insides leaping around.
“Owen says he’ll join you. He’ll drive over and pick you up at five thirty,” Suki said. “So now, before Ben arrives and stresses me out, I’ve got a bit of time. Shall we see if there’s anything nice in your wardrobe for you to wear?”
“Okay.” Martha clicked her tongue. “Though it’ll probably be a fruitless search.”
Martha kept pressing a finger to her lips, the pink balm proving irresistibly touchable. She and Suki stood together in Martha’s bedroom. Out of all the rooms in the house, this was the one she kept in a minimalistic fashion. There were only her bed, a wardrobe, and a dressing table that she never used.
“Stop touching your mouth,” Suki said. “Keep the balm tube so you can reapply it. And I’ll leave some of the other makeup, too, for you to try out.” She opened the wardrobe door and began to work through Martha’s collection of long-sleeved T-shirts. Every so often she paused, tilted her head and then carried on, sliding the coat hangers along the rail.
She explained to Martha that there was such a thing as naff embroidery and lovely embroidery, but it was tricky to distinguish between the two. “A lot depends on the position and the motif. Roses are good but a boo-ket of flowers can be bad,” she said as she pulled out a gray top, then put it back again.
“I think you mean bouquet, and I don’t really understand.”
“It’s kind of an instinct thing. Anyway, you should find your own style and stick with it. If you like embroidered daisies on beige jersey, you should own that look. I always wear long dresses because I have dumpy legs.”
Martha found it difficult to imagine that Suki had any legs at all under her long layers.
“I kind of go for boho-cheek, but a classic look will work best for you,” Suki added.
Now that she was using Lilian-esque-type words, Martha decided not to say anything else. She let Suki do her job.
Martha had kept a few pieces of Betty’s clothes in her wardrobe, and Suki located a fine-knit emerald-green sweater and a black pencil skirt. She teamed these with a pair of Betty’s beige heels.
Martha felt that the color of the sweater was a little bright, too botanical, and the color of the heels reminded her of a dog’s skin, underneath its fur, but she told herself to trust Suki’s judgment.
She changed into the clothes in the bathroom. They were tighter than anything she’d worn before and she pulled at the sweater to loosen it. She was concerned it smelled a bit musty, so gave it a spritz of lily-of-the-valley air freshener.
“Leave it alone,” Suki said. “It smells okay and you look great. Take a look in the long mirror.”
Martha didn’t want to do that. She knew she looked different because she felt different. Although she was comfortable with the amendments to her hair and makeup, extending change to her entire body might be a step too far. “No, it’s okay. I trust you.” She held her arms out to the side and waddled out of the bathroom.
“Try not to walk like a peregrine.”
“Do you mean a penguin?”
“Whatever.” Suki shook her head and held out a coat. It was one of Betty’s, beige wool with a tie belt. “This will look good.”
Martha took the coat from Suki and pulled it on, catching a brief whiff of her mother’s perfume. It reminded her of the flowers her father bought each Friday.
A myriad of emotions washed over her for a moment—sadness, nostalgia, love and regret—but she didn’t want to allow them to envelop her. She was actually having fun. Not in a running-along-the-sands-with-a-beach-ball type, but a grown-up version. She had to try to banish any doubts or concerns from creeping in.
“I have to go,” Suki said, glancing at her watch. “You’ll be okay?”
Martha gave a firm nod. “I have no choice.” She tied the belt on her coat more tightly. Then she tried not to stumble as she made her way downstairs in the high-heeled shoes. “Please don’t pick up your craft bags. I’ll bring them to the library,” she said as she opened the front door.
“Okay.” Suki stepped outside. “Let me know when you want to paint the dragon’s head. Or feel free to have a go yourself.” She tugged her coat across her bump, the edges failing to meet in the middle.