‘I won’t have it, do you understand? Coming here and thinking you can ruin everything...’
Midge pulled herself out of the bed, grabbing her cane, and hobbled over to the seat to hear the words more clearly.
‘You’ve got nothing to worry about.’ The second voice belonged to Noah.
‘Nothing to worry about? I’m not having you poking around...’ And he was arguing with Rendell.
‘I heard them from my room,’ said Rona, her mouth practically touching Midge’s ear. ‘But then I thought, this sort of thing is much more fun when you’ve got someone to share it with!’
‘Is it?’ asked Midge, moving her head away.
‘Hey, give that back... that’s mine, I’m taking it to my room.’ Noah’s voice had got louder, and there was the sound of a tussle as something heavy was dragged across the snow.
‘Is everything OK, boys?’ Rona was kneeling on the cushion to lean out of the window.
There was the sound of more scuffling accompanied by heavy breathing before, finally, Rendell’s exasperated voice could be heard. ‘Fine, have it your way. But this is a big mistake.’
‘Fucking men,’ said Rona, after a few seconds of silence from below. She lit a cigarette and stuck her head back out of the window, blowing the smoke out into the cold evening air. Midge worried about the sash curtains.
‘Full of ego and testosterone, strutting around like bloody cockerels.’
It was hard to imagine Noah as a chicken or even with much testosterone, so Midge gave up and wondered instead if Rona had a deep dislike of the opposite sex or whether she just liked swearing a lot.
The smoke was making Midge cough and Rona waved her hand apologetically. ‘Sorry. Shit habit, I know. That’s the problem with rehab, the best way to get over one addiction is to start a new one – and in rehab it’s usually religion, which is definitely not my thing.’
‘Oh,’ said Midge.
‘So, I chose cigarettes – and shoes, of course.’ Rona flicked the cigarette out of the window and turned to Midge, wriggling back into a pair of impressive pink diamanté heels which she lifted up. ‘Say hello to Brenda and Babs.’
Midge decided that Rona couldn’t possibly really want her to address a pair of shoes, sparkly as they were, so she ignored the last comment and said, ‘Well, at least the shoes won’t kill you.’
‘Says someone who has clearly never been in a Jimmy Choo Boxing Day sale,’ said Rona. She fiddled with the drapery. ‘Do you know much about addictions, Maggie?’
‘Midge,’ said Midge awkwardly. ‘People call me Midge.’
‘Who is Bridie?’ asked Rona, suddenly.
‘Pardon?’ asked Midge.
‘You called me Bridie when you woke up. Who is she?’
‘My com—’ Midge had been about to say ‘companion’ but stopped herself. ‘My wife.’ She waved a hand back towards the bed as if Bridie were sitting on it. ‘I was dreaming about her.’
‘Sounds like you were having an argument,’ observed Rona.
Midge nodded. ‘Yes. But we never argue really.’
‘That’s unhealthy,’ said Rona. ‘Very.’
They were silent for a second. Midge pretended to ignore the dropped ash on the cushion cover, shivering slightly in the draught from the window.
‘Aren’t you getting dressed for dinner?’ asked Rona, catching Midge off guard.
‘I am dressed perfectly adequately for eating,’ Midge replied. But then a thought occurred to her. ‘Do you think this is an occasion?’ she asked.
Rona wrinkled her nose and gave a small laugh. ‘Well, it’s not up there with the Grammys but... let’s see, what options do we have?’ She had moved over to Midge’s chest of drawers.
‘Oh,’ she said politely after a couple of minutes examining Midge’s wardrobe for the weekend. ‘Well, this is colourful.’ She pulled out the rainbow smock.
