Needles and Pearls Read Free Page A

it’s only a bit of fun.’
    ‘So if all your bosses were women, and they took you to a club where the boys were dancing about in leather trousers, with a finale that involved lots of baby oil, you wouldn’t mind?’
    Fiona’s gone rather pale, and tries another little laugh.
    James gives her an irritable look.
    ‘I think women should realise that it’s a big tough worldout there, and we all have to do things we don’t particularly enjoy. I had to take a load of Japanese clients to dinner a few weeks ago, sitting cross-legged on the floor for hours, but you don’t see me suing anybody.’
    ‘And he had terrible trouble with his knees the next day, didn’t you, darling?’
    He turns to glare at her, as Archie wanders over for a cuddle.
    ‘What’s lap dancing, Mum?’
    ‘A rather sad sort of dancing, love.’
    ‘Do they do it at discos?’
    ‘Not really.’
    ‘We have discos at our school.’
    ‘I know, love.’
    Please don’t let him ask me for lap-dancing tips. I’m not really sure it’s what the PTA had in mind.
    ‘I can do all sorts of dancing. Sometimes I go round and round until I get dizzy.’
    ‘I know. But don’t show us now, all right? You might break something.’
    He giggles and Fiona looks relieved to be back on safe territory.
    ‘I meant to tell you, Jo. The girls are doing so well at their ballet classes, Beth was chosen to do one of the solos in the last concert, actually, weren’t you, darling?’
    Beth simpers and nods.
    Lottie rolls her eyes.
    ‘And I was a toadstool.’
    ‘Were you? That sounds like fun.’
    She grins.
    ‘I’ll show you, if you like, Aunty Jo, but you’ll have to take your boots off.’
    Fiona doesn’t seem keen.
    ‘Not now, darling. Lunch is nearly ready.’
    Archie sighs.
    ‘I’d like to be a toadstool. Can you show me too?’
    Beth makes a sniggering noise.
    ‘Toadstools are only for people who aren’t very good at ballet. I was a deer. I can show you, if you like, Jack.’
    Jack looks rather panicked.
    ‘A what?’
    ‘A deer. Like in
Bambi.’
    Archie’s delighted.
    ‘Yes. And then we can shoot him.’
    After a last-minute crisis with the Yorkshires, which seem perfectly fine to me but apparently haven’t risen properly, Elizabeth calls us in to lunch, looking rather tense. Gerald’s swaying slightly as he carves the joint: perhaps that second sherry wasn’t such a good idea after all.
    ‘Would you like horseradish, Jo?’
    ‘Thank you.’
    Elizabeth passes me a small china jug.
    ‘I do think proper horseradish is so much nicer than those terrible jars, don’t you? Fiona made this. It’s one of our WI recipes.’
    ‘Lovely.’
    Fiona smiles.
    ‘It’s ever so easy really.’
    ‘I don’t like horseradished.’
    Jack’s looking rather anxious; he’s already had two Brussels sprouts launched on to his plate against his will.
    ‘You don’t have to have any if you don’t want it. Just eat up your lovely carrots. And try a sprout, love; you might like them now. But if not, just leave them, OK? Nobody will mind as long as you try a mouthful.’
    Actually, Elizabeth will mind, since she’s definitely from the You Have To Eat Whatever Is Put On Your Plate school of thought, but I don’t really go in for force-feeding children, not least because it’s totally counter-productive.
    ‘Christ almighty.’
    We all turn to look at James, who’s started coughing.
    ‘Horseradish. Bit strong.’
    His eyes are watering.
    We all taste our horseradish, and then wish we hadn’t. Bloody hell, the tip of my tongue’s gone completely numb.
    Fiona’s looking totally stricken.
    ‘I’m sure I followed the recipe.’
    Gerald coughs and pours himself some more wine.
    Time to change the subject, I think.
    ‘The beef is delicious, Elizabeth. Archie, don’t lean back on your chair like that, or you’ll tip over.’
    ‘No, I won’t.’
    ‘Archie.’
    ‘I never tip over. Jake Palmer fell right off his chair at school when we were having our lunch,