The Women and the Girls by Laura Bloom

Author:Laura Bloom [Laura Bloom]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Allen & Unwin
Published: 2020-11-21T00:00:00+00:00

‘Why, Anna, you’re glowing,’ said Libby, as Anna let herself into the house in a gust of wind and rain. Libby had started laying a fire on wet evenings, mainly to help get rid of the mould, she said, but it created a lovely, cosy atmosphere. The girls were lying in front of it on the battered carpet, cutting out shapes from sewing patterns and pinning them onto felt. Jasper was sitting in Libby’s lap on the sofa, as she helped him hand over hand with his scissors.

‘With irritation!’ said Anna, peering into her Cabaret mirror above the mantlepiece. With mascara running down her cheeks and her red painted lips standing out starkly against her pale skin, she almost looked like the movie’s sad and romantic heroine.

‘It didn’t go well, then?’ Libby looked at her over Colette’s head.

‘About as well as you might expect with that … that person.’ She glanced at Colette, who was snipping away, seemingly oblivious. But only seemingly, Anna reminded herself, her insides shrivelling again at the thought of Steve’s comments as she went into the kitchen and stowed the lasagne in the fridge. She would have to take more care about what she said in front of Colette, and she needed to warn Libby and Carol, too.

‘How are you, Jassie?’ Anna asked, leaning down to hug him. As usual, the moment Jasper saw her he had made a beeline for her, flinging his arms around Anna’s hips. She went around the living room, tickling Colette and Summer on their heads before making her way to Carol’s room.

‘How did you go?’ Carol asked. She was sitting on a stool at her dressing table, and she swivelled around to face Anna.

‘He won’t be coming over uninvited anymore.’

Carol slumped in relief. ‘Did he say anything about coming to my work?’

She looked so vulnerable sitting there, and so alone. Anna’s heart twisted. ‘I’m sorry, Carol. He wouldn’t promise me that.’

Later that evening, Libby sat curled up on the red velvet sofa, her big wooden needles rhythmically clack-clacking, her face impassive above them. Carol sat next to her holding a letter from her mother, staring wistfully into the flames. Anna was sitting in the armchair opposite, her head bent over the latest Vogue, examining each photo carefully before turning the page. The one she liked best was of a woman standing with her legs apart on a rock platform, her hands planted on her hips, smiling joyously. She wore a loose hessian skirt and a white peasant top, with slouching reindeer boots. Anna’s fingers traced the outline of the woman’s smile. She might have just split up with her husband. She might have only just realised he never really wanted her. As she posed in that outfit she might have had to force herself to stop wondering if anyone ever would want her, and to think about another day, maybe her wedding day, and to smile, smile, smile for the camera. A tear splashed down onto the page and Anna flicked it away, stealing a glance at the other two to check they hadn’t noticed.

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