Sue Margolis - Apocalipstick

Contents

For RW, who might laugh more than most

Rebecca was fiddling with the tuner button on the car radio. Shed been sitting in the monster traffic jam on Camden Road, engine off, for the best part of fifteen minutes. For the last two shed been trying and failing to find some traffic news that might explain what was going on.

... still offering huge discounts on our exclusive range of Lazee Dayze recliners...

Fiddle:

Heres Brotherhood of Man, with Save All Your Kisses for Me...

Jab this time:

... and my Alan was just lying there, completely limpnot even the faintest sign of life. So, I did what anybody would do. I got down on the floor and started giving him the kiss of life.

Rebecca found herself stopping to listen.

And isnt that a cheery, feel-good story to brighten up this drizzly A.M. in the capital? Jacky from Borehamwood, there, talking about her house fire and how she successfully resuscitated Alan, her iguana.

Her nose wrinkled as she imagined puckering up to some slimy reptile. Not that she hadnt puckered up to one or two in the odd drunken moment. The only difference was, her reptiles had worn tight leather pants and called her babe.

Fiddle:

... so best to avoid the Camden Road area if you can. More traffic news in the next hour. Caroline Feraday, 5 Live Travel...

Rebecca Fine, newly appointed beauty columnist of the Daily Vanguard Saturday magazine, now let out a tiny yelp of frustration and switched off the radio. The monthly beauty, fashion and lifestyle meeting was due to start in half an hour, and unless the traffic freed up in the next few minutes, there was no way she was going to make it on time. It was her first meeting and shed been so anxious to make a good impression. Her only hope was that other people would be driving in from north London and they would be late too. For now, all she could do was sit it out. She picked up her bag, which was lying on the passenger seat, and went rummaging for her lipstick and mascara.

She was staring into the drivers mirror, finishing her lashes, when the car behind her let out three long blasts of its horn. The first made her jump so violently that her mascara brush shot upward, leaving a gash of black from her eyebrow to her hairline, which made her look like some kind of unihorned devil. As the honking continued, she saw what had happened. A broken-down lorry, which had been causing the holdup, was now being towed away and the traffic was moving. Clearly the driver of the car behind her was more than a tad put out that she hadnt noticed. Her hand flew to the ignition, but the car refused to start. Honk. Honk. A twenty-yard gap had opened up in front of her.

All right. All right. She was getting flustered now. Looking down, she saw the automatic gear lever was in drive. She shoved it into neutral. Honk. Honk. Honk.

As she turned the ignition key a second time, her eyes darted back to the rearview mirror. The honker was some guy in a flash sports car. No surprise there. Before she had a chance to move, he began pulling out to overtake her. He couldnt get up any speed because he was squeezing between her and the oncoming traffic. As he drew level with her, he leaned across the sports cars passenger seat and lowered the window. Rebecca lowered hers.

My apologies for disturbing you, he smirked. Plummy voice, expensive suit, floppy Hugh Grant hair. Posh estate agent, probably. Its just that some of us have jobs to go to.

Look, Im really sorry, but there was no need to blast me like that...

Just then her mobile started ringing.

As she picked it up off the dashboard and pressed OK, the sports car roared off.

And its Mr. Subaru Turbo, she said in a singsong voice, who wins the award for the smallest penis, this drizzly A.M.

Hi, Becks. Its me, the voice on the end of the line giggled. Listen, have I disturbed some kind of intimate moment? I mean I can always call back.

It was Jess.

No, youre fine, Rebecca said, her tone brightening. She put the phone between her shoulder and chin and asked Jess to hang on while she pulled away. It was a difficult maneuver, since all the cars behind her had followed the Subaru and nobody was allowing her to rejoin the stream of traffic. Finally somebody let her in.

God, hed have thought twice about intimidating me like that, Jess said when Rebecca had finished telling her about the hooray honker.

He would?

Too blinkin right. You see Ive got this brilliant new bumper sticker that says: Im out of estrogen and Ive got a gun.

Rebecca burst out laughing. So, she said, hows the baby?

Oh, you know, Jess said with a sigh, fine, but knackering. In the two months weve had him I dont think either of us has had more than three hours sleep on the trot. She paused. Then theres my Bagpuss.

Oh, sweet. Bought it for the baby? Rebecca asked, assuming quite reasonably that her best friend had been to Toys R Us and bought the furry TV character for the baby.

No, you dope, Diggory hasnt got it.

Diggory. Jess adored the name. And since Rebecca adored Jess, she pretended to love the name, too, but secretly she worried that the poor child might grow up to become a bearded botanist in a cardigan.

What, so you bought it for you? Getting in touch with your child within. Nice.

Oh, God. Becks, listen. I havent bought Bagpuss. Ive got it. Lets put it this way, since giving birth, my pencil-gripping days are definitely a thing of the past.

What? You could do that?

I dont know. I never tried. But if I could, I wouldnt be able to do it now. And I know Eds noticed. Why else would we have only done it twice since the baby? The second time it took him ages to get a hard-on. He doesnt fancy me anymore. I just know it.

Oh, come on, Rebecca soothed, Eds crazy about you. Always has been. Hes not going to go off you simply because youve gained a millimeter or two in the pussy department. Youve got a new baby. Hes exhausted like you are, thats all. Sex is hardly going to be what it was, not for a while anyway. You of all people should know that.

Jess was the agony aunt at Femme magazine. It always amazed Rebecca how she seemed able to get a handle on everybody elses problems except her own.

Just keep doing the pelvic floor exercises, Rebecca went on, and Im sure everythingll spring back into shape.

Yeah, youre right, Jess said, cheering up. Look, you dont fancy popping round tonight, do you? Eds got to work late on the news desk and Ill be all on my own with the Digsbury. Im longing to hear how the new jobs going.

Great, Rebecca said. Ill bring pizza.

The moment she hung up, her mobile went off a second time. She pressed OK, desperate for whomever it was on the other end to be one of her few friends who wasnt pregnant or recently delivered and with whom she could still have an above-the-waist conversation.

... still leaking when she sneezes... Hello? Rebecca?

Rebeccas brow furrowed.

Gran?

Sorry, darling, Ive got Esther here. Were off to the sales. I was in the middle of telling her about my cousin Doreens bladder operation. I didnt think youd pick up so soon. So, did you see it?

What, cousin Doreens bladder operation?

No, silly. The e-mail I sent you.

Grandma Rose was a Net heada silver surfer who had forced herself to come to grips with new technology when she realized how much cheaper it was to e-mail her brothers and sisters in Miami and Sydney, not to mention her cousin Doreen in Montreal with the leaky bladder, than phone. With time on her hands, what had begun as a money saver had become a hobby verging on an obsession.