Meanwhile Al went round the shop filling a basket with novelties and sweeties. Give him five credits to spend and the whole lot would disappear in a flash. He’d always toss it away on rubbish.
I was the eldest child in our family and so I would always be in charge. Ma and Da had drummed that into me. If – God forbid – anything ever happened to them, I was to look after my brother and sister. I understood, didn’t I? Of course, of course I understood. Sometimes the thought gave me nightmares.
Not that anything bad was ever going to happen to our parents, they said. They had a great deal yet to offer, and life on Mars still had much in store for them.
For some reason I was going over this in my head that day, as Al crammed stuff into his basket: handfuls of marshmallows, toy telescopes and pointless card games. I flicked through the colourful slides and chose five. I imagined evenings when my chores were over, sitting in the dark of my room, all peaceful, with the screen glowing and words from old Earth marching past my eyes. Half my mind was taken up chasing alluring titles like Vanity Fair and Wuthering Heights, but the other half was roving over and over the thought that one day I would have to be in charge.
It was like we were all waiting, all the time, for disaster to befall us.
7
Grandma was furious with me.
It was Al’s fault. He let slip that I’d dropped most of my season’s allowance on books from Mrs Adams’ lending library.
Ruby cried out against the greed of Mrs Adams and how she’d been exploiting the townsfolk for too long. ‘Three credits! And for only a lend, too! Not even a keep!’
Grandma was more inclined to be cross about my stupidity. ‘Your Da works so hard! And what do you do with your pocket money? Why, you throw it back in his face!’
I managed to find my voice and answer her back. ‘We all work hard, Grandma. And besides, he said the money was mine to spend on what I liked.’
‘See?’ hollered Grandma, gnashing her plaggy teeth. ‘No respect! This is where your soft living and luxury gets you!’
‘Luxury?!’ I shouted back. I was really mad now. ‘What luxury do we have? You say it yourself, Grandma – when you were my age, you had Servo-Furnishings to do everything. Shopping and cleaning and tending the crops. You even had a robot to cut your toenails and do your hair!’
Al was staring at me in horrified awe. I’d never been as openly rebellious as this before. Something had touched a raw nerve, I guess. Them thinking I was wasting the family’s money with my library books. I wasn’t hurting anyone, was I?
‘Why do you want to read made-up books, Lora?’ Grandma asked, close to tears. ‘Things like that can only make you unhappy. They make you hanker to be elsewhere, and to be someone else. We only have the here and now. And that’s what we’ve got to concentrate on.’
Oh no. The crazy glint in her eye was back again. I’d pushed her into one of her dreadful moods. But it seemed that Ruby knew how to placate her. Toaster joined in, shuffling forward and rubbing Grandma’s back.
Ruby’s idea was that my remaining two credits would be spent at a certain fancy establishment called Lucille’s. Grandma had talked about having fittings at Madame Lucille’s for corsets and other ladieswear things I didn’t understand as yet. Lucille’s was where town ladies with more money than sense hung out, and they came back gussied up in paint and lipstick with ludicrous hairdos. Worst of all they came back in horrible dresses that winched them into unnatural shapes and prinked them out in flounces and frills, like they’d stepped out of some old history tape.
I could feel the blood chilling in my veins. Ruby announced her generous intention to supplement my remaining credits with five of her own, from her very own savings, and I was to think of it as this year’s birthday present from her. Both she and Grandma were getting flushed, prodding me and examining my figure and demeanor like I was their very own dressy-up doll.
Next thing I knew, I was being dragged along and we were heading on out.
I wanted to struggle but I knew it was no use. I knew that I’d have to be a lady some day.
I was at their mercy. They driiiinged the bell and the door clicked open.
Madame Lucille was painted eggshell white and she was very tall and muscular. When she bent close I could see that her face paint was covering a thick moustache on her top lip. Her hair was done up in a turban and she wore a very tight, wraparound dress. It seemed plain to me that she was a man. She didn’t even try to disguise her voice. But no one said a thing about it. They just called her Madame Lucille in this very polite way, even Grandma.
Madame Lucille made me stand on a chair and she went round examining me from all angles. I was pretty mortified, standing in my raggy underwear. When Madame Lucille leaned in close, it was like her moustache was bristling at me.
My nerves and the musky heat of the dressmaker’s shop made my head spin. Her perfume and stinky breath made my stomach surge upwards into my throat. When she sent me into her cubicle with three heavy outfits to try on, I couldn’t stop myself. I made a horrible squawking noise and threw up.
We all got thrown out of Lucille’s. Grandma and Ruby were given no choice but to buy the horrible purple – and now sicky – dress. Madame Lucille called her brutish husband down from upstairs. He stood intimidatingly over us until all the cash was handed over.
We went home to Ruby’s. I was in disgrace. I was holding the vomity dress in a large paper bag and it was reeking. I was told by Grandma that I would have to scrub it myself. I felt like saying the rotten food at Ruby’s had turned my stomach. Those space capsules she kept serving up were decades out of date.
The whole day felt like a disaster.
Al was in his element. He got to laugh even more when Dad returned from hanging out with his Storehouse cronies. He smelled of booze and was swaying slightly. I’d hardly ever seen Da drunk, especially in the afternoon.
Grandma said, ‘Go on, girl.’
I opened the bag to show him satin ruffles and lace and ribbons. The stench of sick came rising up to meet him and he looked puzzled. Da was too tired and drunk to ask any more. He went up to his room and didn’t come down for supper.
I spent the evening rinsing and rubbing my hideous new frock in the zinc tub. I wrung out the dress, dunked it and hung it up to dry in Ruby’s scullery. It looked wrinkled and lopsided and quite a lot like an old rag. It was nothing like how it had looked in Madame Lucille’s shop. It seemed to me like a headless spectre, sagging there on the line. This was the lady I was supposed to grow up to be. She was lopsided and wrong, and trying her hardest to seem feminine and sophisticated.
We had supper and I avoided the chewiest, rankest-tasting cubes. The evening hurried by, with none of us really talking to each other. I was keen to hide away with my stories from the lending library. At last I’d have a chance to be alone and simply read.
I dozed over my electronic Vanity Fair and by one a.m. I was in a deep sleep. By then Toaster had shut himself down, leaving his leads plugged into the mains for charging to the max, as was his habit when at Ruby’s. He knew that, following Grandma’s operation tomorrow, we would be leaving for the Homestead just as soon as we could.
At ten minutes past one Ruby felt ‘a great big wave of weariness, hot and dry like the sandstorm itself’ sweep over her. She told her oldest friend on all of Mars that she was ready for her bed. Ruby reminded Grandma to unplug the television and to do the usual stuff. Checking windows and doors and lights.