by Mandy Baggot
‘You start the play with Mary and Joseph’s journey to Bethlehem,’ Susan said.
‘Yes, well, that’s when everything starts, isn’t it? They have to go there for the census.’
‘I think you should start it off when Mary gets the visit from Angel Gabriel who tells her she’s going to bear the Son of God.’
Emily didn’t know what to say. For some of her children the nativity story wasn’t part of their lives at all. She was trying her best to make compromises, tick every box, keep everyone happy… as well as throwing in references to local restaurants and their money-off deals…
‘Right,’ she said flatly.
Susan smiled. ‘You know I have absolute faith in you, Emily. Absolute faith.’
Emily forced a smile and wondered just how long she could wait for the promotion she craved. Perhaps, regrettably, it was time to look for another school after all.
‘Positivity all round today I think,’ Susan said, easing herself off the desk. ‘Apparently Mr Jackson has moved out of the family flat. Mrs Jackson left a message on the answerphone.’
Fifty-Two
MP Free Studio, Islington
‘That sounded amazing!’ Deborah passed Ray a coffee in the chill-out area of the studio. Over the weekend someone had filled this spot with Christmas too. There was a real tree, a small one, in a red and white pot on a corner table and strings with Christmas cards pegged to them hanging across the ceiling. He and Deborah were sitting on the large leather sofa, Ray taking a break from what had been a hard morning. His throat was actually killing him now and what he really needed more than the coffee was a gallon of water and a packet of Strepsils.
‘Thanks,’ he croaked out. He took a sip of the coffee. Definite twangs of cinnamon in this one…
‘Whoa, is there something wrong with your voice?’ Deborah asked, suddenly looking like BBC News had announced a zombie apocalypse.
Here was his chance to confess about his visits to Dr Crichton and the possibility of surgery…
‘Because you have the show at Ronnie Scott’s coming up, Ray, you need to be in top form for that. It’s probably one of the most important shows of your career so far,’ Deborah continued.
And how could he mention it now? He nodded. ‘It’s fine.’ God, his voice sounded even worse now. Perhaps he had pushed it a little too much in the morning’s session and he was heading to Stretton Park later to sing through songs with Emily and her children. He couldn’t let her down either, despite stress being no good for his larynx…
‘OK, well, there’s something else we need to deal with today,’ Deborah said, putting her coffee on the table and getting her phone out of her portfolio bag.
‘Not another story?’ he breathed. Was this going to be Ida’s revenge after the other day in this very building?
‘Not yet,’ Deborah stated on an out breath. ‘But it could be.’ She showed Ray the screen of her phone. He swallowed as he looked at the image. It was him and Emily, kissing in the snow on London Bridge. Instantly he was flooded with all the feelings that had engulfed him in that moment. It had been sexy and sultry, also slow and soft, Emily’s slightly tentative sweetness soaking into him. He couldn’t remember ever feeling the same way before…
‘Want to tell me about this?’ Deborah asked.
‘I don’t know,’ Ray admitted.
‘Ray, everyone is entitled to a personal life, but your personal life is of public interest, you know that.’
‘Yeah, I know that.’
‘So, I need the heads-up on things like this if I’m going to be doing the best job I can for you. Now, Nigel – he’s the editor who happened upon this image – is going to hold off printing it for now. But I can’t guarantee his source isn’t going to try and sell this picture to another of the tabloids.’
‘OK,’ Ray answered with a nod.
‘I’m just thinking of you and… I’m thinking of Ida,’ Deborah said. ‘She wasn’t in the best place the other day and…’
‘And she came here, to the studio, agitated.’ He wasn’t going to mention he thought Ida may have got someone to stalk him, seeing as she had a photo of him and Emily at Clean Martini. He also wasn’t going to mention the physical altercation, because that would only open up a whole different can of worms.
‘Did she?’ Deborah asked. ‘When? Do you think we ought to think about getting some kind of restraining order?’
He shook his head. ‘No.’ He had always thought that was the very last resort. He didn’t want to take things that far. But when was it going to end if he didn’t do something?
‘I’m serious, Ray. If money didn’t work as an incentive for her to back down… and she seemed so intent on trying to rekindle your relationship. I’m worried this might turn into something bigger. Something… Fatal Attraction… and no one wants that.’
And his agent really didn’t know the half of it…
‘I don’t want that,’ Deborah carried on. ‘I can’t get caught in any cross-fire that might lead to me taking time off work now I’ve signed up for Dog Behavioural School: The Second Season.’
‘Wow,’ Ray replied.
‘I know. If Oscar knew how much those lessons cost, he’d insist on tickets for the FA Cup final next year. In a hospitality box.’
‘OK,’ Ray replied. ‘I’ll do something.’ There was really only one other option left before they took the action that Deborah was suggesting. ‘I’ll call her mum.’
‘You think that will work?’
He didn’t know for sure. With Ida’s mum living in Yorkshire and them not being close… But she was the only family Ida had. Ray had only met Victoria once and it had been an odd affair. Ida had dressed up like a fairy princess, as if she was channelling childhood times gone by, and Victoria had sat quietly for the most part at their meal at The Ivy. Ida had insisted they go to the celebrity hangout to impress her mother. Whether Victoria had been impressed or not hadn’t been apparent. The day had ended with Victoria heading back on a coach saying she would call in a month or so. Conversation had been polite but staid. It was almost as if they were talking but not actually saying anything at all.
‘I can try,’ Ray answered.
‘OK, good,’ Deborah answered, seeming somewhat appeased. ‘Right, so, tell me, who is the girl in the photo?’
Ray couldn’t help smiling. Simply thinking about Emily brightened everything. ‘Her name’s Emily,’ he informed. ‘I fixed her central heating and she gave me her spare room.’
Fifty-Three
Stretton Park Primary School
‘It’s snowing again! Wow! Look how big the flakes are!’
‘My dads say that in America it snows so much sometimes even the snowploughs get stuck!’
‘My granny doesn’t go out in the snow in case she falls over.’
‘If your granny fell over do you think she would die?’
Emily watched her children, faces pressed against the windows of the assembly hall, looking out onto the playground as another light flurry of the white stuff descended from the clouds. Unfortunately, it wasn’t the only thing that had fallen from above in the past hour. Some of the Sellotape that had been holding the festive decorations across the ceiling had come unstuck and Emily had been forced to climb on another unstable stool in order to reinforce everything with Blu Tack. Luckily, this time, with no Ray to save her, she had managed to ascend and descend without incident. Now, they all needed to get on with the play rehearsal to be ready for when Ray got there to perfect the songs. She was going to have to break it to him that they needed even more God…
‘Children, we need to get on with rehearsing the play now so please come away from the windows and get into position on the stage.’
‘Snow! Snow!’ Felix announced, his eyes bulging.
‘I’m going to build a snowman when I get home,’ Lucas announced, sniffing a descending bogey back into his nose.
‘It’s actually a snow-person,’ Makenzie corrected. ‘Because you can’t as
k the snow-person what gender they are, and you shouldn’t assume.’
‘I’m going to make snowballs and throw them at my sister,’ Angelica said, taking aim with an imaginary missile.
‘I’m going to eat the snow. It tastes like a Slush Puppy without the flavours,’ Matthew told the class.
‘Ugh!’
‘Year Six!’ Emily shouted at full volume. She struck the pose of Jesus standing over Rio.
The children all jumped in shock and Emily felt immediately guilty for raising her voice quite so much. She might be feeling under pressure, but the children shouldn’t be. They were enjoying the play, as they should be, it was only her dreams of promotion that were on the line. Suddenly, looking across the room to those innocent faces – and the faces that weren’t quite so innocent all of the time – Emily had an epiphany that had nothing to do with Wise Men. Fun. The holidays. Whatever that meant to her class. Just like her project. That was exactly what this show should represent. It didn’t matter what the diocese wanted. The diocese should really want what was best for the children. She wanted what was best for the children. And she knew them better than anyone else at Stretton Park.
‘OK,’ Emily breathed. ‘Right, now, let’s all be nice to one another, listen to one another and get ready to make this show the best that Stretton Park has ever seen, yes?’
‘Yes, Miss Parker,’ the group all replied.
‘OK, everyone on the stage and take your places for the opening scene. Except… Rashid and Jayden. I want you two to come over to me for a second.’
Emily watched most of her class scurry off, rushing up the steps of the stage and Rashid and Jayden, looking less than happy about being ‘singled’ out trooped towards her, dragging their feet.
‘Am I in trouble again?’ Rashid asked as he reached Emily.
‘Have you done anything to be in trouble?’ Emily asked, raising an eyebrow.
‘I caught Alice’s plaits in a ring binder earlier, but it was an accident,’ Rashid said, a note of worry in his tone.
‘It wasn’t an accident, Miss Parker,’ Jayden said. ‘But it wasn’t Rashid’s fault. Alice said she wanted to see what it would feel like.’
‘No one is in trouble,’ Emily reassured. ‘Quite the opposite. I would like you two boys to work together on a song for the show.’
The two ten-year-olds eyed each other a little warily. Emily knew this was a risk. They were far from friends, but she suspected, given their mutual appreciation of all things football and the fact that both of them were working through some tough times, that they might find common ground with this project. She had everything crossed.
‘What song?’ Jayden asked.
‘Well,’ Emily said. ‘I don’t quite know yet, but I thought it might be nice if you worked on a song about your mums. Because I’ve met both your mums recently and they are both very strong women who work so hard in their jobs and with you two at home. I thought it might be nice to surprise them both with a song about them at the show. What do you think?’
‘It will be hard to write a song like that,’ Rashid commented. ‘And I wouldn’t want it to be about Jesus.’
‘No!’ Emily exclaimed, hand to her chest. ‘No, definitely not about Jesus, or anything about the nativity story. I want this song to be all about the things your mums do in the holidays that isn’t to do with the Christian Christmas story.’ She looked at them both. ‘I wouldn’t ask you two if I didn’t think you could do it. And it can be the same as we’ve done with the other songs. You can pick a Christmas song and simply change the words. Make it about your mums.’ Emily smiled. ‘What do we think? Do we think we can manage that?’
She watched Jayden look at Rashid and Rashid look at Jayden and both boys gave a slow nod that was, at least, promising.
‘Great! Well, why don’t you have a quick think about the things your mums do and we can go from there.’
Suddenly the door of the hall opened and Emily watched as Ray rushed in, his hands once again full of hedgehog.
‘Ray! It’s Ray Stone again!’
‘It’s Olivia Colman! She’s come back!’
Emily rushed towards him, her class all descending back down from the stage and hurrying across the floor to the advancing singer and the animal.
‘Is Olivia Colman sick again? Is she going to die this time?’ Alice asked, reaching out a hand to the hedgehog.
‘What’s going on?’ Emily asked Ray. ‘I thought the hedgehog was safe at the sanctuary.’
‘It’s not the same one,’ Ray said. ‘But… I think this one is pregnant.’
‘Good grief!’ Emily exclaimed. ‘How can you tell? Wait, no, please don’t answer that.’ All her children were now far more interested in the animal than they were in getting on with the play practice. Ray was having to shield the hedgehog from hands keen to stroke and eyes desperate to catch a peek.
‘Is she going to have babies now?’ Lucas asked.
‘Ugh! That’s gross!’
‘Hey, listen,’ Ray said with calm authority. ‘Let’s give her some space for a minute.’ He looked to Emily. ‘Have you got a box we can put her in?’
‘Let’s call her Idris Elba,’ Makenzie suggested brightly.
‘Idris Elba is a boy! You can’t call her a boy’s name!’ Cherry announced.
‘My dads say that you can be anything you want to be and you can have any name you want. Makenzie can be used for a boy or a girl so why can’t we call her Idris Elba?’ Makenzie asked. ‘We don’t actually know the gender.’
‘I can’t see a willy or a foo-foo! She’s too curled up!’
‘I’ll find a box,’ Emily said quickly.
Fifty-Four
We Three Queens – to the tune of ‘Last Christmas’ by Wham
Last Christmas I gave you some myrrh
But on Boxing Day you gave it to her
This year to not break my heart
I’ll give it to Baby Jesus… x2
Ray thundered at the piano, mouthing along to the children and Emily singing the song they had adapted. Emily had projected the lyrics on the wall at the far end of the hall, but it seemed to Ray that the Year Sixes were close to perfection already. He smiled as the queens performed their dance break before moving onto the verse…
You broke my heart, I don’t know why
I didn’t get that you were someone else’s guy
Tell me maybe, did you really like me?
Or was it just because I’m part of the monarchy?
Happy Christmas, I’ll give it to the baby
With some gold and nappies bought from Sainsbury’s
Now I know what love can mean, I finally realise how crazy stupid I’ve been
He wanted to join in and sing so much. The kids had obviously worked hard on this, but earlier his voice had given out completely when he’d hit a tricky run of notes in the studio. Thankfully, Deborah had been gone by that stage and he’d been able to suggest to Leyland that it was just tiredness, that a good night’s sleep would restore things. He wasn’t really sure how long he could keep that up, but he knew he had to put on an outstanding performance at Ronnie Scott’s. And, currently, that one night and Emily’s Christmas show was all he could think about. That and his concerns about Ida. What was the right thing to do? The only thing he knew was that whatever he did it wasn’t going to be easy.
Two more choruses sung with even more confidence, projecting their vocals to the back row of chairs like he’d told them earlier, then some flossing and dancing the Hype before the next part of the song…
Sandy desert, no more mince pies
Hiding from you and your Insta lies
Good gosh I thought you were someone really super,
But hey, I guess you still weren’t Bradley Cooper
Faced with three camels who do nothing but fart
We’re queens on a mission, stop the world from falling apart
O-oo, now we’ve found our real calling we won’t need you again
; Ray played on to the final choruses and outro and watched Emily directing the children to their positions for the ending with one hand and beckoning on the participants for the next scene with the other. How she was pulling this all together with limited resources and time he didn’t know. But what he did know was that playing this music with the children and their teacher was a departure for him and there was something so raw and pure about it. He was back to enjoying songs again, relishing the children’s reaction to the music…
Suddenly, the doors of the hall flew open and Emily’s boss, Mrs Clark strutted in, an unamused look on her face.
‘Miss Parker, what is going on?’ Susan Clark demanded to know. Her hands were on her hips now and Ray couldn’t help but sink a little down into the piano stool. He had signed in as a legitimate guest today. He wasn’t wearing that Father Christmas costume ever again…
‘Mrs Clark,’ Emily said, walking to the front of the stage and straightening one of the camel’s tails. ‘We were just running through the show and…’
‘Why is there another hedgehog in the school? In the staff room.’
‘Ah, well… that is…’ Emily began.
‘It’s Idris Elba,’ Makenzie announced loudly and proudly. ‘And they are going to have babies.’
Susan Clark shook her head like someone who couldn’t quite believe what they were being told. He should take ownership of it. Help Emily out. He stood up from the piano. ‘I brought in the hedgehog.’
‘And you are?’ It seemed to take the headteacher a few moments for realisation to dawn and Ray wasn’t sure whether the penny quickly dropping was concerning his singer status or whether she recognised him as the Santa who Chinese-burned a parent. He had never wanted it to be the former more than now…
‘You… you are that person in the news. Lorraine Kelly talked about you on morning television. She wasn’t very complimentary. Because they were saying that…’