Dot (Araminta Hall)

‘I don’t think she’s up to much. Bit overweight, peroxide hair, wears her skirts too short, you know the type.’
    ‘Typical barmaid then?’
    ‘Well, yeah, sort of. But when you talk to her she’s not like she looks. She’s got this, I don’t know, vulnerability, I suppose. Like she’s always about to cry or something.’
    Sandra looked across at her husband. ‘Sounds like you’ve been studying her.’
    He laughed. ‘Don’t be silly. You’re the only woman for me.’ And with that he drew her towards him with his strong arm, nuzzling into her neck and making her put down her wine glass and giggle with the pleasure of being desired by a man about whom she felt the same way.
    Sandra did think about what Gerry had said the next morning as she walked to the green to meet Alice, but the baby was making her stomach churn so that the only real thing on her mind was a need to know where she could be sick at all times. Besides, it was only a stupid rumour and there was something about interfering in someone’s marriage, even when one half of that couple was your best friend, that seemed horribly wrong. She snuggled instead into the knowledge that her Gerry didn’t find the barmaid attractive.
    Of course Sandra lived to regret this decision. She comforted herself with the thought that all her warnings would have probably gone unheeded, but still she felt pretty shitty about herself whenever she thought about it in the weeks that followed.
    Tony was quite clearly absent from Dot’s party, which was strange, considering that it had been held on a Sunday especially so he could attend. And besides, he had always seemed very connected to Dot, as if they understood each other. Alice was also decidedly distracted and Clarice had a look of grim determination on her face. The other mothers were as impressed with Alice’s house as Sandra had always known they would be, but she couldn’t get any enjoyment out of this, couldn’t parade her best friend as she would have liked to have done. There was something weary and stale in the air that Sandra couldn’t place, something which made her want to leave, as if the house was haunted.
    ‘Where’s Tony?’ she asked Alice as they were peeling cling film off plates of sandwiches in the kitchen and the children screeched in the garden.
    ‘He went to buy some balloons,’ answered Alice.
    ‘Balloons?’
    Alice stopped her unwrapping and Sandra saw her hands were shaking. ‘Yes. He came into the kitchen half an hour before the party was due to start and said he didn’t think there were enough balloons. It was so strange. I didn’t know what to say. I wanted to stop him, but I didn’t say anything.’
    Sandra put her firm hand over Alice’s trembling one. ‘It’s OK, he’ll be back.’ But the words sounded hollow. Sandra thought the best-case scenario would be that he’d been run over or something, but surely they’d have heard the ambulance.
    ‘Where could he have gone?’ said Alice, the tears now dropping out of her eyes. ‘I mean, who misses their daughter’s second birthday? How do I forgive this?’
    You should have talked to him, Sandra found herself thinking, didn’t I tell you that men need ground rules? But instead she said, ‘I’m sure there’s a good explanation. Something you haven’t thought of. He’ll be back later and you can have a good chat.’
    ‘He said something else strange. He told me that I’m an amazing mother. I was icing those stupid fairy cakes and he said, Dot’s so lucky to have you, Alice, you’re an amazing mother and you mustn’t ever forget it. What do you think he meant by that?’
    The baby was turning Sandra’s stomach again. He was telling you goodbye, she thought, but only said, ‘Nothing. He was being nice, see. And you are amazing. I mean, look at this party. Dot is lucky. That’s all.’
    Sandra wasn’t surprised that she didn’t hear from Alice over the weekend, but she felt uneasy when there was no phone call on Monday. This only turned to proper worry though when she didn’t turn up to playgroup on Tuesday. Sandra allowed the memory of Alice by the end of the party to dominate her thoughts; she had looked as awful as it was ever going to be possible for her to look, with deep dark circles shrouding her eyes and her skin as pale as paper. Sandra had offered to stay and help clear up but Clarice had ushered her out, telling her they would be fine. Sandra had walked away from the house with a