Fandango in the Apse! by Jane Taylor Read Free Book Online Page B

sandals, even though it made a large dent in my
newly banked funds.
    The restaurant was lovely, although I didn’t get to see too much of it
after Eddie had urged me into a seat with my back to the room.  It was only
later I realised that was deliberate.  He didn’t want me focusing on anything
but him.  He, on the other hand, felt no compunction about letting his eyes
stray to any good-looking girl in the vicinity.  
    Further dates followed, until roughly five months in, things changed
dramatically.  I’d arranged to meet Eddie at his house, but when I arrived he
was running late.
    ‘Be a love and iron that new shirt I bought, will you?  It’s in a bag on
the coffee table.’  Not bothering to wait for an answer, he headed upstairs for
a shower. 
    I knew where the iron and ironing board were kept, because as you can
imagine this wasn’t the first time I’d been “a love” and ironed for him.  I
went in search of the shirt.  I had never heard of the shop advertised on the
side of the bag and I realised why, when I opened it and the receipt fell out. 
I could not have afforded to sniff the air in such a place, much less buy
anything from it.
    Holding the receipt and staring at the exorbitant cost of the ordinary-looking
shirt, my rage began to focus on the man upstairs.  For months, I hadn’t eaten
properly because of the need to look my best.  It became apparent very early on
that appearances mattered to Eddie.  Marmite sandwiches and beans on toast had
become my staple diet, except when we went out for a meal; then I always ate as
much as possible in order to bulk up on calories.  Now I was finding out that
he spends more on his shirts than I earned in a week? Just how big a fool am
I?  I stormed upstairs and barged in on Eddie in the act of drying himself. 
Shirt in one hand, receipt in the other, I rounded on him.
    ‘I don’t believe you.  I’m starving myself to buy clothes and you spend
all this money on a shirt?  Do you know how that makes me feel?’
    Eddie blinked a couple of times.
    ‘Well do you?’ I slung the shirt and receipt at him and bolted down the
stairs and out of the door.  Halfway down the drive, a towel clad Eddie caught
up with me.
    ‘Katie, what the hell is the matter?  What did I do?’ He actually looked
quite shaken.
    A woman walking her dog tut-tutted as she passed and belatedly Eddie remembered
his state of undress. 
    ‘Come back in, sweetie, let me sort this out,’ he pleaded.  I sighed,
allowing him to gently push me towards the house.  I couldn’t go anywhere
anyway, I remembered; the last of my money had gone on the bus fare here. Eddie
sat me on the sofa and knelt in front of me.
    ‘I don’t understand what just happened, Katie.  Why has my buying a shirt
upset you so much?’  I looked at his bewildered expression and felt the need to
be honest.
    ‘It’s not the shirt, Eddie…it’s what you paid for it.  It seems so unfair
that you spend that much on one thing, when every spare penny I have, I have to
use for clothes.’
    ‘You spend all your money on clothes…like that?’ he said, waving
his hand at my outfit. 
    ‘Well… y-yes.’ I was beginning to sense my new, gypsy style, summer dress
was not to his liking. My stomach dipped with disappointment.  I had saved for
three damn weeks to buy it.
    ‘Please tell me you’re joking…you can’t have spent your wages on that … it’s
hideous!’
    That was it, my face crumbled and hard as I tried, I could not stop the
tears.  A little while later, cuddled on the sofa with Eddie, still red nosed
and snivelling, I explained how hard I tried to look good for him, and how I
was getting behind with my rent as a result.  He had no idea of the pittance
paid to lowly admin clerks.  He was apologetic when he told me he had assumed
my taste in clothes was, to say the least… suspect.  All those missed meals,
all the dragging round the shops in search of a bargain and Eddie hated
everything I