Keep Her Sweet by Helen FitzGerald

Author:Helen FitzGerald [FitzGerald, Helen]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Orenda Books Ltd
Published: 2022-07-14T16:00:00+00:00

He was wearing new jeans. That was the first thing Penny noticed when Andeep came in, which was a long five minutes after she sat at the table. They were expensive-looking ones that were stupidly skinny; made for young men, or middle-aged ones who are cheating on their wives with red-heads in polka-dot dresses. They couldn’t afford jeans like that. What a slap in her face to be spending money at a time like this. He knew there were seven reminders upstairs, including electricity, which they needed far more than a pair of ridiculous jeans.

‘Hello,’ she said, as if she’d never met him before.

‘Hello,’ he said, as if he hated her.

He only ever wore 501s. It was a rule. Up there with only ever wearing white T-shirts. He was wearing a blue shirt. With a French tuck. He did not know about such tucks. Someone had Frenched it for him.

Penny shouldn’t stare. She should be nonchalant and brazen, like the lover who had obviously taken him shopping. Andeep never went shopping. He would start sighing at the very mention of it. He wouldn’t even buy clothes online. In the early years he was dressed by his mother and sisters, who took him to the New Year sales in Glasgow. They knew what he liked (501s, white T-shirts, leather jackets) and were not afraid of his sighs. In recent (impoverished) years, their annual trips to Scotland no longer possible, Penny and the girls bought him his uniform replacements from charity shops, or from outlets, mainly for his birthday and for Christmas. He did not care about clothes. He was not vain.

He looked different in the new jeans. Mean. Hunky. And un-gettable.

She, on the other hand, looked uncomfortable and elderly. She wished she hadn’t let Asha dress her. Asha’s dress sense had always been dodgy. Penny wasn’t used to tight clothing. It was making her anxious and fidgety and sweaty. What was she thinking, going braless? And if her clavicle was jutting then her neck and face bones probably were too. There was probably wrinkly old neck skin flapping about all over the place. She should not move. She should keep her head high. She should thrust her breasts forward. But she was braless so that was not possible.

He was probably avoiding eye contact because the sight of her made him sick. She knew, everyone knew, that a woman her age needed weight to flesh out the wrinkles. Penny was very hot and a little dizzy. Sweat was gathering in her groin area. Or was that urine? Oh god, if she stood up would the seat be wet, would the bum of her tight, green halter-neck have a wet patch on it? Oh god.

The therapist had talked non-stop since they all took their seats. Something about Saturday being stressful and how were they all blah blah. Something about the tasks – yes, they’d moved rooms. Yes, they had all given each other some space. Andeep had, particularly, Penny thought, he’s moved the

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