by Fiona Perrin
And there, at the bottom of the pile, was Finn, eyes shut, minus the healthy red of his cheeks as I removed the big floor cushion that had been covering his face.
I screamed then, ‘Oh, my God,’ grabbing his head. Tears mixed with my hot breath and it was impossible to know whether Finn was sharing my air or not. I pulled him by the shoulders, limp, into my lap.
‘Is he proper dead?’ Tessa gasped from the doorway.
‘Of course I’m not proper dead,’ Finn said, opening his eyes.
My breath sounded like a steam train. ‘Oh, I thought you might have suffocated,’ I told him in between gasps.
‘What’s suffocated?’ Tessa asked from behind me, and suddenly she was there, on my lap too.
I rocked to and fro, clutching the children to me. Tears rolled down my face as if they’d come from nowhere. Look at what could have happened. My heart was palpitating, my thoughts running amok: death, the incredible, unimaginable loss, the ‘what if I hadn’t come home?’… Where the hell was Luba? I shook my head and shouted her name, but it came out as a whispered wail, loud in intention rather than reality. I hugged the children to me ferociously. She must have gone upstairs and just left them playing.
Eventually, I began to remember that it was me who must be strong. ‘Now, tell me, what’s been going on?’ I asked in a whisper into Tessa’s hair.
‘We were just playing graves,’ Tessa explained with a sob that seemed to erupt somewhere deep down in the tiny volcano of her soul. ‘I was pretending to bury Finn.’
Luba must have been gone for quite a while for them to build such a sophisticated pile of cushions.
‘I won’t be dead again,’ Finn promised as the salt of his tears joined mine.
‘You must never ever do that again,’ I said. I pushed Tessa back and looked deep into her eyes. ‘Your brother could have been seriously hurt if he’d stayed under there any longer. Do you understand?’
Tessa nodded and sobbed again. ‘We were just playing.’
‘I know, but, darling, you’ve got to stop playing at being dead. Here. In the playground – no more funerals. Look what trouble you could’ve got into.’ I needed to have a very, very strong word with Luba. Perhaps she’d fallen asleep upstairs?
‘You’re going to die though,’ Tessa said into my neck.
‘No.’ I seized her hand and looked at her. ‘You have to start listening to what I’m saying. I am not going to die. Nor is Daddy. No one is dying and no one will die until they are very old and very poorly. And when they do, they will go to a beautiful place.’
‘Will I see you again in heaven, Mummy?’
‘Look, let’s have a proper chat.’ Without letting go of either of them, I pulled them onto the sofa behind me, where, with its cushions missing, the springs pressed into my bottom.
‘First of all, no one is going to heaven for a very long time. Secondly, when any of us finally does go there, we’ll all be together again in one place.’
‘Together again with Daddy?’
I took a deep breath. ‘Well, you and Finn will always be with Daddy and you will always be with me. It’s just that—’
‘You’re not friends with Daddy now, are you?’ Finn asked. ‘Never mind, you will be next week.’
I hugged him closer. ‘Well, Daddy and I have fallen out a little bit,’ I said. Tessa looked at me, waiting to see what would happen next.
‘But we’re going to try to be better friends,’ I continued with more certainty than I knew I had. ‘It’s just that Daddy and I don’t think we should live together at the moment, because we argue too much.’ The time had come to be truthful with them, I thought. There was clearly no going back. The books advocated sitting down together but I couldn’t wait for Lars when they needed clarity.
‘Like me and Paolo?’ asked Tessa, talking about a classmate for whom she had a particular animosity.
‘Paolo and I,’ I said automatically. ‘Well, a bit like that. Imagine how if you lived with Paolo, you’d argue all the time. But the thing is, just because Daddy and I aren’t living in the same house any more, it doesn’t mean that anything nasty is going to happen. You’ll see him all the time and then, maybe, he’ll get his own house. And I’m still here, looking after you. The important thing is that we both love you two very much indeed and that will never change.’
‘Can we go to McDonald’s?’ Finn asked.
‘Yes,’ I said and both of them looked at me with wonder and then gave me a kiss on the cheek. ‘Go and put your shoes on.’ Now to go and find Luba and discover just what the hell was going on.
‘Luba,’ I shouted, as we went into the hall. ‘Luba, where are you?’
‘She went out,’ Tessa said.
‘What do you mean, “went out”?’
‘She went down the road to see Guy Gates.’
‘He hasn’t even got me a football shirt yet, the bugger,’ Finn joined in. ‘She said he would.’
I shook my head and tried to focus on the bigger issue. ‘She went down the road to Guy Gates’ house and left you here on your own?’
‘It’s only down the road, Mummy,’ said Tessa, shrugging on her coat.
It was next door but one. ‘It’s only just down where?’ I grabbed the hands of both children and started towards the door. I felt my blood rage hot as if it would boil from my body. She’d left the children alone to nearly die.
‘But I can’t go to McDonald’s without wearing shoes,’ Finn said as I hurried them down the cold tiles of the steps, slamming the door behind me.
‘You’ll get soggy socks from the person who washes the floors.’ Tessa careered after me down the path. I was more than striding, I was jogging, spurred by a rage I didn’t know I had in me.
‘Socks don’t matter for now,’ I said.
‘Guy Gates kisses Luba with his tongue,’ Finn said in vague awe as we swung into the front garden.
‘Guy and Luba sitting in a tree, K – I – S – S – I – N – G,’ chanted Tess as I began to thump furiously on the blue sheen of his front door.
‘Shhhh,’ I told her and banged harder so that the echo of my fury resounded around the empty hallway behind the glass. I bent down and, prodding the letterbox open, started to scream out the au pair’s name, louder and louder. ‘Luba…’ I heard my angry shriek bounce back around the hallway.
‘I think Luba’s been naughty,’ Finn said.
Finally, the banging was joined by heavy footfalls on the stairs and, behind the glass, the thickset form of a man started shouting, ‘For fuck’s sake, what’s the matter?’
He swung the door open, a twenty-five-year old’s naked torso topped with matted, dark hair. I briefly registered that Guy Gates was wearing only a bright red towel and that he was staring in amazement at my probably equally red face, fist still poised to thump the door, the shoeless Finn beside me, with Tess behind him.
‘All right, darlin’?’ the footballer asked as I drew myself up to my full five feet five.
‘No, I’m bloody not,’ I started to scream. ‘Just where is my au pair who is being paid to look after my children?’
‘You talkin’ about my Luba?’ Guy looked quizzical.
‘Where is she? Upstairs getting laid by you when she should have been looking after my children? Finn was nearly killed.’
‘All right, calm down, darlin’,’ Guy said. ‘They look perfeckly all right to me.’
What a total arsehole. I barged forward like a bailiff trying to force entry.
Guy used his bulk to block my way. ‘I’ll go and see if Luba wants to see you,’ he said.
‘She works for me, if you hadn’t noticed, you ignorant tosser…’ I screamed. ‘I could sue her. I could get her deported. I could—’
‘Luba’s been very naughty,’ Finn said.
‘I thought you said no one was going to die and now you say that Finn was nearly killed.’ Tessa burst into tears. ‘That’s the same as murdered.’
I squatted down beside her, cursing myself
now. ‘Now look what you’ve done,’ I said to Guy, blaming him anyway.
‘Luba? Darlin’? There’s someone here to see you.’ Guy ignored me and went back into his hallway.
She appeared slowly round the corner of the stairs, a defiant smile dancing at the corners of her mouth as she descended, languidly wrapping a long silk dressing gown around her. I mouthed words of rage like a guppy fish on amphetamines.
‘Oh, hello, Ami,’ she said.
I stood up and grasped Tess’s head, pulling her close to my shaking body. ‘What is going on?’
‘What the fuck is going on is that she quit,’ Guy said.
I mouthed more words of nothing.
Luba looked thoroughly pleased with herself. Reaching the bottom of the stairs, she grasped Guy’s hairy muscle of an arm, and hung from it.
‘Yep.’ Guy sniffed. ‘My Luba will be staying here from now on. I’ll look after her.’
‘Me live here?’ Luba had calf eyes.
‘Course you can, princess,’ Guy told her in a voice thick with unrealised desire and bent his head on its short neck to kiss her.
‘Luba and Guy sitting on a log, oh, my God, they done a snog,’ whispered Tessa.
‘For Christ’s sake,’ I screamed. ‘I’ve never heard anything so ridiculous in my whole life…’ Before I realised that they still had tongues locked like the antlers of stags in battle. I humphed with outrage. ‘What is going on is that she is sacked! S-A-C-K-E-D with a capital S!’ Their wet pink tongues caroused together as if they were simply saying, ‘Up yours.’
‘I will be reporting you to the police for child neglect,’ I roared on. ‘You will be deported and never allowed to work with children again.’ I battled with myself to not wrest their heads apart as they systematically ate each other’s faces. ‘Just you wait.’
I scooped up Finn and marched down the path, occasionally throwing another, ‘Disgusting!’ over my shoulder. I heard the door slam behind me.
‘Who’s going to look after us now, Mummy?’ Tessa asked.
‘I’ll sort something out,’ I said. I took a deep breath. ‘Now, who wants a fish burger?’
*
Seated on a pint-sized chair under the arches of McDonald’s, I battled the nausea of the smell of fried food. I would phone the police as soon as we got home. I would phone the au pair agency and get her blacklisted. I would firebomb Guy Gates’ house…
I rang Parminder as the children munched away. She was outraged. ‘Oh, that’s so awful. I know she didn’t look very smiley but she always seemed to care for the kids. And Tessa! What’s making her behave like this?’
It was time I started to tell people. ‘It’s Lars and me,’ I whispered. ‘We had a massive row – worse than usual – a couple of weeks ago, and he says he wants a divorce. Of course, the kids are picking up on that.’
‘Poor Ami! Why didn’t you tell me? I would have done everything I could to help. Are you OK? I thought you looked a bit down. What can we do? Shall I make you a casserole or a pie or something?’ I almost laughed at that. I didn’t need food in dishes; I needed my children healed. ‘You poor thing. You should have told us. Look, we’re off to Manchester to see the folks for half-term, but as soon as we get back I’ll give you a break…’ We talked about finding a counsellor for Tessa; Parminder recommended the NHS: ‘the best people, but you have to wait’.
It was as I put the phone down to concentrate on Tess and Finn that I realised the impact of something she’d said. Half-term meant childcare all week long and I had seven days left before I was supposed to present the work that would save my agency. But even if I could find childcare, could I leave them after what had happened? I’d obviously been neglecting my children. I wanted to put my arms around them and glue them to me forever.
Around me happy families ate Happy Meals and I tried to smile on.
‘I need you, Lars,’ I whispered. ‘Please help me.’
*
That night I called him, listening to the sound of a foreign ringtone with increasing rage, until on the fifth time of trying he answered the phone. ‘Amelia? Not again. It’s the middle of the night in Russia.’
‘Lars, this isn’t about me – it’s the children.’
‘Oh, my God, are they all right?’
‘Well, they are now. But Luba…’ Even though the kids were in bed, I kept going to check that they were breathing in the same way I did when they were babies. ‘Luba… she’s run off with the footballer from down the road.’
‘Good God, Guy Gates. Supposed to be one of the thickest players in the league.’
‘She abandoned the children and they built a grave out of cushions and Finn could have suffocated and—’
‘That’s outrageous. Were they in real danger?’
‘Well, they could’ve been but I came home early.’
‘What happened? Are you sure they’re OK?’ His voice rose with the same panic I’d felt a few hours back.
‘Yes, they’re fine… I’ve rung the police but they say it’s a matter for the agency as au pairs are not classified as proper childcare and, therefore, it’s our fault—’
‘Are we in trouble with the law? Did you know that about au pairs?’
‘No, of course I didn’t. Did you? Everyone has au pairs and they look after the kids before and after school and—’
‘Christ, Amelia, what’ve we done?’
‘We’ve made a decision that nearly went badly wrong,’ I whispered.
‘Thank God you came home in time,’ he said. ‘How long has this been going on for, you think? Do you think she’s left them before?’
‘Tess said that she had just popped out before but never for long,’ I said. When I’d heard that, I’d put my head in my hands and asked Tess why she hadn’t told me. She’d said she hadn’t really minded because Luba had said she could watch more TV. I’d gulped down my guilt and smiled at her, making her promise that she would never hide anything like that from me again.
‘I called the agency and they said they’ll make sure she never works as an au pair again,’ I told Lars. ‘Apparently there is some sort of register. But, oh, God, Lars, it was terrible.’
‘Shhh,’ he said, more gently than I’d heard for a long time. ‘It’s over. But, God, I’m worried about the kids, Amelia.’
‘And so am I.’
‘They need us now. I’ll try to get there as soon as I can. I was supposed to be coming home today but there’s been a blizzard and there are no planes taking off at all.’
I remembered vaguely seeing something about this on Twitter and groaned.
‘Lars, it’s not just that. I’ve got a terrible problem too with this pitch – there’s less than a week to go and we have no idea. If I don’t win it then I’m going to have no business.’
‘It’s a real shame when you’ve worked so hard. But if it doesn’t work then you can always go back to working for Marti.’
‘He says I can’t because he made such a big noise about what a success Brand New was going to be.’ There was no point telling him about the upmarket pass Marti had made. ‘I just need your help, please.’ I tried to be calm. ‘Can you come back and look after the kids for a few days – even evenings or the weekend?’
‘Look, I’ll call you later and see if there is any way of getting home. I’ll try and get a train if there are no planes.’
‘The pitch is next Thursday and it’s half-term on Monday and… Do you know when your mother is coming back?’
‘I think she goes to Colombia next.’
‘Marquez,’ I said, talking about the next author on her trip. ‘Oh, God, what am I going to do?’ I let out a moan as panic rose.
‘I think you need to get Marti to change his mind about taking you back so that you have a job and not this kind of pressure on your business. The kids have to come first.’
‘For fuck’s sake, this is both of our problem, Lars. Please…’
Lars blew out air of exasperation. ‘I know that,’ he said.
‘This is a real wake-up call, believe me. I can’t believe it’s happened. I’ll call you later as soon as I know what’s going on with the planes.’ There was a pause when it sounded as if he was going to say something else, but then he just repeated, ‘I’ll call later. Try and get some rest,’ and I heard the click of the phone going down.
I looked up at the ceiling towards my sleeping children and thought for a while about how I’d let them down before they’d even started in life.
16
2010
Saturday morning. Even as I woke from the restorative twelve-hour sleep that followed a week at work, I knew I was pregnant. I felt different, almost as if I were more complete.
Lars snored quietly beside me on his pillow, rhythmic intakes of breath followed by comic exhalations. I tried to count back to my last period – was it late? I’d stopped taking the pill a few months after we got married and I’d automatically started drinking very little but that was as much to do with working my arse off as with any baby that might come along. Children had been part of our plan ever since we’d frenziedly discussed what our future looked like back in Bloomsbury, but we hadn’t got to the point of counting days or panicking every month yet.
At that time, Lars’ business had launched in the UK, and he’d started to spend more and more time gazing at a laptop. Meanwhile, I progressed steadily, working long hours too. There were many nights when he and I managed only to eat a quick 11 p.m. takeaway before we crawled into bed. Sex was still joyous but quite often perfunctory, needing to fit around a busy diary full of ambition.
I counted back the days over Christmas and New Year and was not surprised to find that my period was a week late. I felt my boobs, which seemed somehow to have become rounder and heavier.
I was up the duff. I didn’t need to wee on a stick to know that. I patted my tummy under the sheets and said very slowly in a whisper, ‘Hello, you.’
*
A couple of months later, the same bed. I woke again – this time from the naps that stopped me feeling constantly as if I was about to either fall down with tiredness or vomit on the spot. I could feel Lars’ hand holding my gently swelling stomach under the duvet. I didn’t open my eyes but instead listened to him, talking very quietly almost to himself, almost as if he were practising speaking English: ‘You’re cherished,’ he was saying. ‘A cherished offspring. A progeny.’