Page 60 of All the Right Words
Gina turned and made accidental eye contact again. She broke it quickly. She walked away, Brenda trailing behind with her arms jammed down by her sides.
‘Problem solved,’ Olivia smiled, grabbing a drink and taking a sip, pleased with herself.
Harper wished her own problems were fixable by something as simple as a new blouse and some Dove. She just had to get through this party with her best fake smile before she plunged into the dumping.
What a fun night.
Thirty-Five
A few minutes down the road from the reading, Gina and Brenda were in a high street clothes shop. Brenda was sliding tops along a rack, metal screaming against metal every time. ‘Too light, too tight, too shiny, I could never wear that, I wouldn’t be seen dead in that, who the hell could wearthisone, Liz Hurly thirty years ago?’ She paused. ‘I suppose I could try this.’ She grabbed a basic black blouse that wouldn’t look out of place at a funeral (which Gina thought spoke to Brenda’s state of mind this evening) and stomped off to a changing room.
Halfway there, she turned and yelled, ‘Are you coming? I might need a second set of eyes on it!’
‘I’m just here to pissing pay for it. I’m not bloody Tan France,’ Gina muttered to herself but followed her anyway.
A minute later, Brenda walked out of the changing room with the top on and a face like thunder. Gina thought she looked alright and told her so.
‘I look like a bin liner full of crap. Stick me on the kerb and wait for collection!’
‘Brenda, I know you’re stressed about the reading, but the top is honestly nice,’ Gina said flatly.
Brenda’s eyes blazed. ‘I’ve done dozens of these things. I’mfine.’
Gina arched an eyebrow at her. ‘My bad. Please continue comparing yourself to a bag of rubbish.’
Brenda looked down at herself. ‘Fucking subtext,’ she said and started crying.
A woman coming out of the opposite dressing room wearing an unflattering dress gasped. ‘Oh my god, is that Brenda Kildare?!’
Brenda, mascara-tinged tears running down her face, glared at the woman. ‘Oh my god, could you fuck off?’
The woman’s face fell. ‘Your last book was crap.’ She stomped out of the dressing rooms.
‘I know!’ Brenda yelled after her. ‘My next one’s even worse.’
Gina shoved Brenda back into her dressing cubicle and shut the door behind them. ‘Brenda, what the fuck’s going on?’ she asked quietly.
‘I just told you, weren’t you listening? I bloody yelled it.’
Gina was perplexed. ‘I thought you were happy with the book?’
‘I was. At the time. And now I think it’s rubbish.’
Brenda turned away from her to look in the mirror, getting out a tissue to dab away the tracks down her face. Gina watched her reassembling herself like nothing had happened and felt strongly that the universe had sent Brenda to show her what a terrible life she could have had. Writing was a mental health ruiner. Brenda was forever in some heightened state of emotion. The woman never knew simple contentment. And she wassuccessful. ‘Brenda, can I tell you something?’
Brenda looked at her in the reflection of the mirror. ‘If it’s a pep talk, don’t bother.’ She got out some powder and began to dab it on.
‘It’s not. I just want to tell you that you don’t actually have to do it if you hate writing this much. You could just take the money you’ve got, buy a patch of land, get some sheep, and chill the fuck out.’
Brenda turned to look at her, astounded. ‘What are you talking about? I love writing. It’s the only thing that makes me happy.’
Gina was sceptical. ‘Every time I see you, you’re losing your shit.’
Brenda rolled her eyes. ‘That’s not a writing thing. That’s just life. If I had some sheep, you don’t think I’d be losing sleep thinking one of them might wander off?’
Gina stared at Brenda. ‘Do you understand that you just had a small breakdown?’
Brenda rolled her eyes. ‘Jesus. You kids today. Scared of a bit of emotion. You want to get some therapy. Get in touch with yourself.’ She turned back to the mirror and straightened her top. ‘Actually, I think this will do fine. Shall we go and pay for it?’
