Studs and Stilettos

Lesson 19 - bathwater, Beaujolais and bubbles = bliss

I have had two glasses already at the perfect temperature since the bottle is resting in the water next to me and I don't really care about anything anymore.

Brutus is cuddling Samantha and wittering on about the photographs that he's managed to take to the printers and is giving me complicated instructions about collecting them tomorrow. Samantha is licking his chin, plastering saliva over his designer stubble. She's wearing a new outfit which I'm only vaguely aware of because it's covered in sequins and the light keeps catching it every time she moves her tongue. I thoroughly approve of sequins for a dog. They tend to chew them off, get them stuck in one of the many narrowings of the gut and they collect together in a great lumpen mass and cut off the digestive tract. The dog is then destined for a long and happy existence in the bone yard in the sky. If they are sequins of a dubious origin, they probably are coated in some lethal contaminant-containing paint.

'Camilla. You're not listening. Did you hear me? The shop is just up the road from your school. Turn left at those traffic lights where I picked you up in Eva's tart mobile and its next right. It's called Snapdragons.'

'Gotcha Brrrroooootttteeee.'

'I do wish you'd be serious sometimes. You havent listened to a thing I've been telling you about Pippa.'

'Ppppppiiiiiipppppppiiiiipppp!'

'She was very upset I can tell you. Sobbed all over my new angora sweater, made it go all matted.'

'SO. Mike has left with a Polish plumberess to set up a love nest complete with state-of-the-art bathrooms and designer tiles. Pippa is better off without him.'

'I know, I know...that's what I'm trying to tell you. She came with me to the photo shop and as we were leaving, we ran into that chap you know...the big one....and...'

'Why did you choose a photo shop near my school, Broot the Hoot? There's one around the corner from here?' For a moment I forget about my horrendous day, my sneaking out of school the minute the bell went so nobody would talk to me and the fact that Doris will be handing me out an official letter of sackage tomorrow and listen to what Brutus is saying.

Brutus dangles Samantha high above his head with her front paws and rubs his head against her elongated stomach oblivious of the fact that this nipple encrusted underbelly has been dragging in the dirt of the park and is now a microbiologist dream cocktail of bacteria and bugs.

'Babawabwabwaba.'

'Brutus!' my sharp tone works and the hound is restored to knee level. 'Why are you stalking the pavements near my school? Do you by any chance, have an ulterior motive?'

Brutus purses his lips and does the mincy wiggle on the toilet seat.

'You're after Dr Beeter aren't you, you naughty little woofter.'

At least he has the decency to blush and not deny the allegation.

'Why didnt you just ask me to set up a date – or just an accidental meeting? The staff are always in that pub over the road, all I have to do is invite you along to one of their little soirees on a Friday night.'

Brutus's eyes widen and bulge, their blue irises shining like someone on atropine.

'Ooooohhh, would you Cammie? Would you?'

'Course I will my little alternative chum.'

And then I remember. The next meeting at the pub that I will probably attend will be my farewell to St Euclid's party.

Wednesday.

Anneliese is back in school – somewhere. Miss Moon informed me of this en passant as she carried a large brain model under one arm towards the Biology lab. I no longer care of course. This time tomorrow the picture of Edwin's lips glued to mine within the confines of an ancient mini will be on the first page of some ghastly local – or national – newspaper together with a report on what a 'careless and casual' (to quote an Ofsted inspector) teacher of Chemistry I am. The school will slide down those league tables like a skeleton bob without a brake on an alpine glacier: and I will be responsible.