“I have a message for you,” he said, glancing at Celeste. He put his finger on Max’s lower lip. “Let me see, buddy. From Mindy.”
“Mindy?” said Celeste vaguely. “I don’t know anyone called Mindy.” She was thinking about Jane and Ziggy. The petition that should have Max’s name on it. She needed to tell the school. Should she call Miss Barnes right now? Should she call Jane?
“Your property manager,” said Perry.
Celeste’s stomach plunged. She let Josh wriggle off her lap.
“I bet your tooth isn’t loose!” he said to his brother.
“Maybe a little loose,” said Perry. He ruffled Max’s hair and straightened his glasses. “They’re putting new smoke alarms in your apartment and want to know if they can get access Monday morning. Mindy wondered if nine a.m. was OK with you.” He grabbed both boys by their waists and lifted them up on his hips, where they clung comfortably like monkeys, their faces joyous. Perry tilted his head at Celeste. A white-toothed Elvis smile. “Does that suit you, honey?”
The doorbell rang.
70.
Stu: As soon as you walked in the door you were handed one of these girly-looking pink fizzy cocktails.
Samantha: They were divine. Only problem was the Year 6 teachers made some sort of miscalculation with quantities, so each drink was worth about three shots. These are the people teaching our kids math, by the way.
Gabrielle: I was starving because I’d been saving all my calories for that night. I had half a cocktail and—hooeee!
Jackie: I go to a lot of corporate events with big-drinking highfliers, but let me tell you, I’ve never seen a group of people get so drunk so fast as they did at this school trivia night.
Thea: The caterer’s car broke down, so everyone was hungry and drinking these very strong alcoholic drinks. I thought to myself, This is a recipe for disaster.
Miss Barnes: It’s not a good look for teachers to get drunk at school functions so I always sit on one drink, but that cocktail! Like, I’m not even sure exactly what I was saying to people.
Mrs. Lipmann: We are currently reviewing our procedures in relation to the serving of alcohol at school events.
The Trivia Night
Cocktail?” A blond Audrey Hepburn held out a tray.
Jane took the proffered pink drink and looked about the school assembly hall. All the Blond Bobs must have had a meeting to ensure they all wore identical pearl chokers, little black dresses and updos. Perhaps Mrs. Ponder’s daughter had offered a group discount.
“Are you new to the school?” asked the Blond Bob. “I don’t think I know your face.”
“I’m a kindy mum,” said Jane. “I’ve been here since the beginning of the year. Gosh, this drink is good.”
“Yes, the Year 6 teachers invented it. They’re calling it ‘Not on a School Night’ or something.” The Blond Bob did a double take. “Oh! I do know you! You’ve had a haircut. It’s, er, Jane, isn’t it?”
Yep. That’s me. The mother of the bully. Except he’s actually not.
The Blond Bob dropped her like a hot potato. “Have a great night!” she said. “There’s a seating plan over that way.” She waved a dismissive hand in no particular direction.
Jane wandered into the crowd, past groups of animated Elvises and giggling Audreys, all of them tossing back the pink cocktails. She looked around for Tom, because she knew he’d enjoy joining her in analyzing exactly what was in it to make it taste so good.
Tom is straight. The thought kept disappearing and then popping up in her head like a jack-in-the-box. Boing! Tom is not g*y! Boing! Tom is not g*y! Boing!
It was hilarious and wonderful and terrifying.
She came face-to-face with Madeline, a vision in pink: pink dress, pink bag and pink drink in her hand.
“Jane!” Madeline’s hot-pink silk cocktail dress was studded with green rhinestones and had a huge pink-satin bow tied around her waist. Almost every other woman in the room was in black, but Madeline, of course, knew exactly how to stand out in a crowd.
“You look gorgeous,” said Jane. “Is that Chloe’s tiara you’re wearing?”
Madeline touched the tiara with its pink plastic stones. “Yes, I had to pay her an exorbitant rental fee for it. But you’re the one who looks gorgeous!” She took Jane’s arm and spun her around in a slow circle. “Your hair! You never told me you were getting it cut! It’s perfect! Did Lucy Ponder do that for you? And the outfit! It’s so cute!”
She turned Jane back around to face her and put a hand over her mouth. “Jane! You’re wearing red lipstick! I’m just so, so . . .” Her voice trembled with emotion. “I’m just so happy to see you wearing lipstick!”
“How many of those pretty pink drinks have you had?” asked Jane. She had another long sip of her own.
“This is only my second,” said Madeline. “I have terrible, ghastly PMS. I may kill someone before the night is out. But! All is good! All is great! Abigail closed her website down. Oh, wait, you don’t even know about the website, do you? So much has happened! So many calamitous catastrophes! And wait! How was yesterday? The appointment with the you-know-who?”
“What website did Abigail close down?” said Jane. She took another long draw on her straw and watched the pink liquid disappear. It was going straight to her head. She felt marvelously, gloriously happy. “The appointment with the psychologist went well.” She lowered her voice. “Ziggy isn’t the one who bullied Amabella.”
“Of course he isn’t,” said Madeline.
“I think I’ve finished this already!” said Jane.
“Do you think they even have alcohol in them?” said Madeline. “They taste like something fizzy and fun from childhood. They taste like a summer afternoon, like a first kiss, like a—”
“Ziggy has nits,” said Jane.
“So do Chloe and Fred,” said Madeline gloomily.
“Oh, and I’ve got so much to tell you too. Yesterday, Harper’s husband got all Tony Soprano on me. He said if I went near Harper again he’d bring the full weight of the law down on me. He’s a partner in a law firm, apparently.”
“Graeme?” said Madeline. “He does tax law, for heaven’s sake.”
“Tom threw them out of the coffee shop.”