So Lucky. Dawn O’Porter

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СКАЧАТЬ down. I let Bonnie out of her buggy and tell her to sit on the sofa. I give her a bag of gummy bears to keep her busy. I ducked into a shop on the way here and bought nearly all of their confectionary to bribe her with for the next few hours. I need her to sit still.

      ‘Your name?’ the receptionist asks, even though I am here every five weeks and she damn well should know it. I put my Balmain handbag onto the desk. I find expensive handbags are a great distraction and a good way to gain status. I often present them to people when I don’t want the focus to be on me. She barely even looks at it, demonstrating a distinct lack of taste.

      ‘Ruby,’ I tell her, tapping my fingers on the counter. She’s wearing a very tight top and looks ridiculous. Her cleavage is staring me in the face. What is the point in dressing like that when you’re coming to work in a space where you’ll essentially only encounter women? Is it just so, on the off chance a man walks in, she is sex ready? I have half a mind to tell her she’s overexposing herself.

      ‘And your surname?’

      ‘For God’s sake, Blake,’ I say, with agitation. ‘Ruby Blake. Eleven a.m. with Vera.’

      ‘Oh yeah, there you are,’ she says, raising her eyebrows at my stress levels. ‘Vera left, I’m afraid. So you’ll be with Maron today.’

      She has no idea of the impact of what she’s just said.

      ‘What do you mean, Vera left?’ Vera has been my technician for eight years. Only the second in my life. I trust Vera. Vera is the only thing that makes this process bearable. She is Russian and commutes from Wapping, there is no chance of me bumping into her outside of our sessions. That is very important to me.

      ‘Yup, our boss offered her a job in our Birmingham salon and she took it. Good for her. I’d have turned it down. I don’t know why anyone would choose Birmingham over London. All those motorways …’

      ‘Who is the Moron person?’ I ask, cutting her off. I couldn’t give a flying wax strip about how she feels about the traffic system in the West Midlands.

      ‘It’s Maron,’ she says, correcting me. I hadn’t actually meant to say Moron. I realise she thinks I’m horrible. I soften a little, trying to explain myself a bit better.

      ‘I would have appreciated being told about this before I arrived. I’ve been seeing Vera for years.’

      ‘Er, well, she only left a couple of days ago and we have a new technician who can do it for you.’

      ‘I had hoped that my loyalty would be treated in kind, do you understand that?’

      ‘Yeah, sorry,’ she says, absolutely not sorry but wanting me to shut up. ‘Take a seat please. Maron will be with you in a minute.’

      She is petulant. It annoys me. I revert back to my angry mode as I think this situation deserves it.

      ‘Do you understand why I’m annoyed?’ I ask.

      ‘No, we have someone who can do the procedure for you.’

      ‘It’s not about some random person, it’s about years of building a relationship with someone and not wanting to have to start all over again.’

      I feel like a man who fell in love with his prostitute and asked her to go steady. Of course Vera didn’t care about me. She was just working.

      ‘I don’t know what to say, look into trains to Birmingham?’ the receptionist says, as if that is a reasonable suggestion. I need to get this done today. I will meet Maron, and try to cope. I look over to Bonnie. She is quietly eating her sweets. Sticking her finger into the bag, fishing one out, rolling it around her mouth then swallowing it, savouring every single one like it’s a bag of white truffles.

      I sit next to her, take four Nurofen Plus, and wait. My heart is racing. Part rage, part fear. But I have no choice. Vera moved to Birmingham. I need to get this done.

      ‘Ruby?’ calls a tall blonde woman, who meets all the clichés of what a person who works in a beauty salon should look like.

      ‘Yes,’ I snarl, wishing I wasn’t so desperate. But knowing if I wake up like this again tomorrow I’ll smash my house to pieces.

      ‘Hi, I’m Maron. I’ll be taking care of you today.’ She holds out a hand for me to shake. It is soft and well-manicured. My hard, bony fingers rattle in her palm. ‘Want to follow me?’

      I hate her instantly. I liked Vera. She was fat. When you live with a condition like mine, there is a lot of comfort to be had in spending time with other people who push the boundaries of what is considered attractive.

      ‘OK,’ I say, standing up, being brave. ‘Right, Bonnie. You wait here.’ I find an episode of Peppa Pig that I’ve downloaded onto my phone and give it to her. I leave the bag of snacks next to her, telling her she can have whatever she wants. ‘I might be a while, but I’m just in there and I’ll be right back. If the video stops, you press the triangle, OK?’

      Bonnie isn’t listening to me, she is too engrossed. This feels stupid and weird and wrong. But I have to get this done today. I need it done. I follow Maron.

      ‘Um, excuse me,’ the receptionist calls after me. ‘You can’t leave her there.’

      ‘Why not? She’s fine,’ I say, knowing it’s not fine. Of course it’s not fine, I could be a couple of hours. I’m so stupid.

      ‘If we don’t accept responsibility for lost property, we surely don’t take responsibility for children. She’ll have to go in with you.’

      That can’t happen.

      ‘Oh come on,’ I say, softly, knowing that she already hates me and no amount of sweet talk will help.

      ‘I can rearrange your appointment?’

      I really need to get this done now. I can’t cope with it. I hate it. It’s making so feel horrible. I don’t want to feel this ugly. I don’t want to be this angry. But Bonnie is with me. This isn’t OK.

      ‘Can you get me in tomorrow?’ I ask, thinking that gives me twenty-four hours to find some childcare.

      ‘Sorry, the earliest I have is next Thursday.’

      ‘FUCK,’ I yell. Maron and the one with the chest look immediately over to Bonnie to see how much damage I did to her by swearing.

      ‘OK, OK, Bonnie, come with me please.’

      She doesn’t move.

      ‘Bonnie, here, NOW.’

      She still doesn’t move. So, muttering more swear words under my breath, I pick up all of the treats and my phone and drag her kicking and screaming into the treatment room. Maron points to a chair she can sit on. I face it towards the wall, sit her in it, load her up with snacks, give her back the phone, and ask Maron to leave so I can get undressed.

      She does.

      This is all wrong.

      I take off all of my clothes except my СКАЧАТЬ