Sue Margolis - Original Cyn

Table of Contents

This book is dedicated to the Scottish midwife who said to me, less than twelve hours after I had delivered a ten-pound baby boy:

Och, Mrs. McGoolis, you have an enormous amount of stretch marks and flab to get rid of.

My only reply was stunned silence and a weak, apologetic smile. Twenty years later I still fantasize about how I might have handled the situation differently...

PRAISE FOR
SUE MARGOLISS NOVELS

BREAKFAST AT STEPHANIES

With Stephanie, Margolis has produced yet another jazzy cousin to Bridget Jones. Publishers Weekly

A heartwarming, character-driven tale... a hilariously funny story. Romance Reviews Today

A comic, breezy winner. Booklist

Rife with female frivolity, punchy one-liners, and sex. Kirkus Reviews

APOCALIPSTICK

Sexy British romp... Margoliss characters have a candor and self-deprecation that lead to furiously funny moments.... A riotous, ribald escapade sure to leave readers chuckling to the very end of this saucy adventure. USA Today

Quick in pace and often very funny. Kirkus Reviews

Margolis combines lighthearted suspense with sharp English wit... entertaining read. Booklist

A joyously funny British comedy... a well-written read that has its share of poignant moments... There are always great characters in Ms. Margoliss novels. With plenty of romance and passion, Apocalipstick is just the ticket for those of us who like the rambunctious, witty humor this comedy provides. Romance Reviews Today

Rather funny... compelling... brilliant send-ups of high fashion. East Bay Express

[An] irreverent, sharp-witted look at love and dating. Houston Chronicle

SPIN CYCLE

This delightful novel is filled with more than a few big laughs. Booklist

A funny, sexy British romp... Margolis is able to keep the witty one-liners spraying like bullets. Light, fun.
Library Journal

Warm-hearted relationship farce... a nourishing delight. Publishers Weekly

Margolis does a good job of keeping several balls in the air at once. Southern Pines (NC) Pilot

Satisfying... a wonderful diversion on an airplane, poolside, or beach. Baton Rouge Magazine

NEUROTICA

Screamingly funny sex comedy... the perfect novel to take on holiday. USA Today

Cheeky comic novela kind of Bridget Joness Diary for the matrimonial set... Wickedly funny.
People (Beach Book of the Week)

Scenes that literally will make your chin drop with shock before you erupt with laughter... A fast and furiously funny read. Cleveland Plain Dealer

Taking up where Bridget Joness Diary took off, this saucy British adventure redefines the lusty womans search for erotic satisfaction.... Witty and sure... A taut and rambunctious tale exploring the perils and raptures of the pursuit of passion. Publishers Weekly

Splashy romp... giggles guaranteed.
New York Daily News

A good book to take to the beach, Neurotica is fast paced and at times hilarious.
Bostons Weekly Digest Magazine

This raunchy and racy British novel is great fun, and will delight fans of the television show Absolutely Fabulous.Booklist

Chapter 1

Elizabeth Taylor died? Ah. Still, the old girl was getting a bit past it. As Cyn switched her mobile to the other ear she felt the taxi slow down and turn left. Are you sure youre OK? her mother asked tenderly. I know how much she meant to you.

Im fine, Cyn said, rubbing at the condensation on the rain-speckled window and peering out. I mean, it wasnt entirely unexpected.

The vet did all he could, her mother was saying. Cyns mind immediately conjured up a frantic scene in pet ER. She could hear the vet instructing everybody to Stand clear as he turns poor Elizabeth onto her shell and shocks her scaly chest with two tiny tortoise-sized resuscitation paddles. Half a dozen attempts later he wipes his brow and announces, OK, Im calling it. Time of death, ten after four. His face etched with failure, he snaps off his rubber gloves and throws them into the bin. Meanwhile, a tearful nurse sniffs and covers Elizabeth with a tiny white sheet.

I remember the day I found her, Cyns mother went on. It was February 1981. The Canadian cousins were over and Id gone to the garage to get some vol-au-vent cases out of the freezer. And there she was, hibernating inside a pile of sunlounger covers.

Elizabeth Taylor was by no means the only animal her mother, Barbara, had rescued. In the years before and since the tortoise joined the Fishbein household, there were assorted stray cats, lost budgies and the odd hamster. There had even been an actual lame duck, which, having been attackedprobably by a foxhad somehow managed to waddle the half mile from the park pond to find sanctuary in the Fishbein kitchen. Barbara found homes for all the other animals. Even the duck was nursed back to health and eventually, with much ceremony, released back into the wild of the local park. She wasnt so lucky with the tortoise. Despite tortoise found notices stuck on virtually every lamppost in the neighborhood, nobody came to claim her. In the end the Fishbeins adopted her, but it was Cyn who loved her. It was Cyn who spoiled her with slices of tomato and painted ET Fishbein on her shell in Wite-Out, and it was Cyn who worried obsessively every winter about her not waking up from hibernation.

Back then it wasnt just tortoises and lame ducks Barbara had taken in. She also rescued people: best friends going through messy divorces came to stay for weeks on endusually with several badly behaved, bed-wetting children. For a few years she did emergency short-term fostering for the local council. This meant that every couple of months an at-risk baby or toddler would be delivered by social workers and stay a few days. Barbara loved the babies as if they were her own, but they were never around long enough for Cyn or her brother, Jonny, to get jealous.

Not long after Elizabeth Taylors arrival, the miners went on strike. Straightaway, thousands of them headed down to London for rallies and marches. Being on strike they couldnt afford accommodation. Barbara, whose father, Sid, had been a union shop steward all his working life and had raised her in the old-fashioned Labour Party tradition, which regarded the working man as nothing less than a hero, immediately phoned the Miners Union HQ and offered to take in half a dozen. To her everlasting dismay, all the Hampstead and Highgate middle-class liberals had gotten there first and there werent any to be had for love or money.

Sometimes when the crying babies or sleeping bags all over the living room floor got too much for Cyns father, Mal, he would escape to his shed. Cyn would find him with his feet up on the workbench playing his John Lennon LPs or listening to the cricket on his old Roberts radio, muttering about how the house was turning into the blinkin Inn of the Sixth Happiness. But he never asked Barbara to put a stop to her rescue missions. Cyn knew that deep down he loved and admired her far too much.

Barbaras mother, Grandma Faye, had accused her of having a Mother Teresa complex. Barbara just shrugged and said, Call it what you like. Im just doing my small bit to make the world a better place.