by Fiore, Rosie
‘Everything okay?’
‘Fine. You?’
‘Fine here too. I’m sat on the sofa watching Monsters Inc. with Zach, and Imi’s asleep on my chest.’
Jo let out a sigh she hadn’t known she was holding on to. ‘That’s great. Well, I’m on the train, on my way. I’ll give you a shout at the first tea break.’
‘Have fun, love,’ said Lee.
The train pulled out of Waterloo and Jo sipped her coffee, stared out of the window and leafed through her magazine. She felt as if she was going on holiday.
The hotel where the seminar was being held was close to Kingston station and she got there just after nine thirty, half an hour early. She found a chair in the foyer of the hotel where she could see the door of the conference suite and sat down. She felt unaccountably nervous. This was the first proper work-related event she’d been to in more than three years. She felt very out of practice and conspicuous. She jumped up and went to the loo to check her hair and makeup and make sure she had no baby porridge or snot anywhere about her person.
When she came back, there was a tall woman with dark red hair laying out conference packs on the table outside the meeting room. She must be Louise Holmes-Harper’s assistant. Jo hung back a bit and looked around. There didn’t seem to be anyone else who looked like a conference attendee in the foyer yet, but then what would they look like? It was a seminar for people seeking to start a small business, and that could be anyone. She plucked up her courage and edged over to the table where the woman was painstakingly lining up name badges. There were quite a lot of name badges, Jo noted with relief – at least twenty. She had had an irrational fear that there would only be about five of them sitting around a table, embarrassed, trying to fill gaps and pauses with questions.
‘Hi,’ Jo ventured. ‘I’m here for the small-business seminar.’
‘Hi!’ said the woman. She looked about forty, and she had a wide, friendly smile. ‘Let me guess. You must be Jo Hockley.’
‘Wow. Good guess.’ Jo smiled. ‘Sorry, I’m really nervous.’
‘Ah, I remember from your email you said you’d been at home with your kids for a while. I know how you feel; it can knock your confidence.’
The woman unbuttoned her jacket and took it off, and Jo realised that she was pregnant – not very far along, maybe fifteen or sixteen weeks.
‘You’re Louise Holmes-Harper,’ said Jo, rather unnecessarily, because the woman was busy pinning on a name badge that made that clear.
‘Sorry, yes, of course I am. I thought you knew.’
‘I thought you might be Louise’s glamorous assistant.’
‘Sadly I don’t have one of those,’ laughed Louise. ‘I try to keep costs down when I do these things … I know people are spending their own money to come on this seminar, so I want to give them as much as I can for a good price. I do the setting up, the photocopying – all the housekeeping tasks. I also pour a mean cup of tea!’
She seemed so warm and easy-going that Jo already felt more at ease. ‘Well, as I seem to be the first here, I can be the teacher’s pet and help you, if you like.’
‘Thanks, that would be fab,’ said Louise. ‘Could you pop these notes into each folder, and make sure each person gets a pen and a notepad too? I’ll go and double-check the laptop and projector are working; I have a morbid fear of being let down by the technology. I like to be sure that things will just do what I need them to do, when I need.’
She left Jo packing folders and went through the doors into the other room. Jo sneaked a look at the delegate list, but it was just a list of names. There were roughly equal numbers of men and women, but no indication what areas of business anyone might be interested in.
Once she had finished organising the notes, she looked around the hotel foyer. There were a few people standing around uncertainly: a middle-aged woman in a tweed skirt and sturdy shoes clutching a battered old briefcase, two teenage boys, looking uncomfortable in shirts and ties, an elderly chap who was sitting at a table looking at an iPad, and three or four men between the ages of twenty-five and thirty-five. She backed away from the table before anyone could approach and ask her questions. Just then, Louise came back out of the conference room and stood behind the table with a bright smile. She winked at Jo. ‘Could you come over and get the ball rolling?’
Jo went up and signed in, gathering her delegate pack and name badge. The other people straggled after her and formed a queue. Louise indicated that she could go through, so she walked into the conference room, where chairs were set in a single row, forming a neat semicircle facing a screen. She dithered, then put her folder and bag on a seat slightly to the left of centre and fetched herself a cup of tea. One by one, the other people came into the room. Nobody seemed to want to make small talk, at least not yet, and they all sat rather awkwardly, folders on laps and balancing their teacups, until Louise came in.
She checked her watch. ‘Hi, everyone. So glad you all made it. Everyone who should be here seems to be here, and we’re all set to start on time. Miracles will never cease! Let’s begin with some introductions. As you’ve probably guessed, I’m Louise Holmes-Harper, and I’ll be running the seminar. I know that for each of you, your business idea is the most precious and valuable thing you have, so the one rule I’m going to insist on is that you don’t tell everyone exactly what your idea is. Today, we’re going to be focusing on general skills that will be useful whatever your business, and in the one-on-one sessions tomorrow with the various experts you can talk more specifically about any help or information you need that is particular to your field. Still, it’s important to get to know each other, so I’m going to ask each of you to tell everyone your name, and one little-known fact about yourself. So, let me start by saying that my name is Louise, and I’ve never been able to spell the word “occasion”. One c, two s’s? Two c’s, one s? And the last part: i, o, n – i, o, u, n? It gets me every time!’
She laughed warmly and it made everyone else laugh too. ‘You see?’ Louise said. ‘Confessions are easy. Let’s start with you, Eric,’ she said, indicating the elderly man sitting on the far left of the semicircle.
‘My name is Eric Pocket, and for years I’ve told everyone I don’t have a middle name, but I do, and it’s Hillary.’
This got a good laugh too. Next in line was one of the teenage boys.
‘I’m Daniel, and there’s this one Coldplay song I secretly like.’
His friend next to him looked utterly horrified. ‘You WHAT? I can’t believe you! Coldplay? Wow.’
Louise pointed to the friend. ‘Now, now! It’s your turn.’
‘Hi, I’m Chris, and I totally judge people by their taste in music.’
Daniel looked unimpressed. ‘It’s supposed to be a little-known fact about you. Everyone knows that about you. Even people who’ve just met you.’
‘Okay,’ said Chris, leaning back and stretching his legs. ‘I used to sing treble in the church choir.’
Daniel was so astonished at this he was speechless.
‘Well, clearly that one WAS a surprise!’ said Louise. ‘Next …’
It was Jo’s turn. She’d been enjoying everyone else’s confession so much, she hadn’t thought about her own. ‘Er … um … I’m Jo, and I once dressed up as a pineapple and gave out leaflets for a travel company?’
She got a smattering of applause for that one, but nothing like the one for the middle-aged tweedy woman, who announced baldly, ‘I’m Maureen, and I’ve been doing yoga for thirty-five years. I can put both feet behind my head.’ She got a standing ovation. By the time they’d gone around the circle, the ice was well and truly broken, and before they knew it they were into the first session, where Louise talked them through limited companies, partnerships and sole trading.
*
In Hendon, Lee was enjoying every minute of his solo-daddy day. He’d loved sitting quietly with the kids to watch a film, and when Imogene woke from her nap, she was lively and playful and kept pulling herse
lf up on the furniture and Lee’s legs. Zach was playing on his sand table in the garden, but he kept running in to tell Lee about some adventure his dinosaurs were having in the sand. When he saw Imogene was up and playing, he wanted to kiss her and carry her around, but Imogene was having none of that. She crawled determinedly under the kitchen table and sat there, giggling to herself.
Lee remembered a game he’d loved as a child, so he dashed upstairs to get a blanket from the linen cupboard. He arranged four dining chairs into a square in the middle of the living room, and showed Zach how to drape the blanket over the chairs. They weighted it with books and put cushions into their little house. It was darker than Lee had expected, so he went to get a torch from the kitchen drawer, scooping up Imogene as he went. He and both children crawled into their secret house under the blanket. Zach thought it was fabulous, and kept dashing out to bring in more and more toys, and Imogene saw it as the perfect opportunity to crawl all over her daddy and bounce on his tummy. They played in the house so long that it took Lee a while to work out that he was hungry and that the kids must be too. Jo had left a lunch of cold chicken and some salady bits in the fridge, and he fetched it, along with some cartons of juice and a few bread rolls, and they had a fabulous torch-lit picnic in their blanket house.
They crawled out after lunch, and Lee realised that the living room was in a state of advanced chaos. Even though the kids howled in protest, he dismantled the blanket house and hoovered up the crumbs and all the sand Zach had tracked into the house. He washed up and packed snacks, toys and a football for a trip to the park. It wasn’t until two thirty that he thought to check his phone and saw he’d missed a call from Jo at lunchtime. She’d left a message raving about the course, and her voice sounded vibrant and excited. He felt a little bad that he’d been having so much fun he’d forgotten to miss her. He knew she’d already be in the afternoon sessions, so he fired off a quick text saying they were all fine and were off to the park.
It took him a while to get the kids organised: Zach needed a wee, Imi needed a nappy change and a clean top as she’d spat tomato pips all down what she had been wearing. He had to wrestle them both into their car seats and gather the necessary bags and equipment. As he drove to the park, he realised that it was the first time he’d done this all on his own with both kids. They tended to do stuff as a family at weekends, or he would sometimes do dad-and-son stuff with Zach, leaving Imogene with Jo. He felt quite proud of himself for managing as well as he had. So far so good: neither child had sustained an injury, there was no permanent damage to the house, and nobody was screaming or crying. Zach kept up a non-stop monologue all the way to the park, telling him what they had to do and in what order. Jo had warned him not to mess with the system and he didn’t, although he did put Imi on the little roundabout and whizz her round, making her shriek with absolute delight. Zach told him off for that. ‘Mummy doesn’t do that,’ he said prissily. ‘I know,’ said Lee, winking at him. ‘It’s a dad thing. Do you want a go?’
‘No, thanks,’ said Zach. ‘I tried it before and it made me feel all sick and then I had my ice cream and I threw up. I’m not wasting my ice cream, especially if you’re buying the proper kind in the cone with the flake in.’
‘I’m definitely buying the proper kind in the cone,’ said Lee seriously. ‘But not if anyone’s going to throw up.’
He took Imogene out of her seat on the roundabout. She seemed perfectly fine, not dizzy at all. He was loading her back in the pushchair, ready to head to the kiosk for ice creams when a plumpish woman with curly dark hair came hurrying over with a baby in a sling on her front, dragging a small girl by the hand. ‘You must be Zachy’s daddy!’ she said excitedly. ‘I’m Martha’s mummy!’
Ah, this must be Jo’s legendary tiresome and nameless park woman, Lee thought. Maybe he could find out her name and end the mystery once and for all.
‘Hi, I’m Lee,’ he said, offering his hand to shake.
‘Of course you are! I’ve heard all about you!’ gushed Martha’s mummy. ‘Zachy and Martha are BEST friends, aren’t you, darlings?’
‘No,’ said Zach matter-of-factly. The woman ignored him. Martha clearly didn’t have anything to say for herself. She stood holding her mum’s hand and looked at her shoes. Maybe she didn’t talk, thought Lee, or maybe she’d just given up trying to get a word in. Martha’s mummy was off again, asking breathily where Jo was, on such a lovely, sunny day.
‘She’s on a course,’ said Lee.
‘A course? How lovely! I was thinking of doing a course to become a doula, or maybe to do baby massage. What course is it?’
‘An entrepreneur’s course – how to start your own business.’
‘Goodness me!’ This was clearly outside her frame of reference, so she asked no more questions, and instead went on about how important baby massage was for sensory development. Zach pulled on Lee’s hand. ‘Da-ad …’
‘Do excuse me,’ Lee said smoothly. ‘I promised Zach an ice cream.’ As soon as the words were out of his mouth, he realised he’d made a rookie error.
‘Oooh, ice cream! What do you think, Martha? Shall we have a little treatie too?’
There would be no escape. They walked together to the kiosk, and the woman talked non-stop. Jo was absolutely right. She had no topics of conversation outside babies and children. Zach skipped ahead and ran back, jumped and did roly-polies on the grass. Martha walked sedately, holding her mother’s hand. At one point, Zach came rushing back and said, ‘I’m having a whole day with my dad today. Where’s your dad, Martha?’
Martha didn’t get a chance to answer. Her mum giggled and said to Zach, ‘Martha’s daddy’s playing golf today. He likes to play golf when the weather is nice.’ She smiled at Lee. ‘You know what men are like – boys and their toys …’
Wow, Lee thought, she really did love to trot out meaningless clichés.
They got to the kiosk and got ice creams for the kids and coffees for themselves. The woman ordered a chocolate brownie. ‘They’re the best brownies I’ve ever had!’ she said, offering Lee a piece. ‘I’ve tried to work out what’s in them and copy the recipe but mine are never quite as good. I wish I knew what the secret ingredient was!’
Lee began to realise that she prattled on much as Zach sometimes did. It wasn’t like him to tune people out, but he guessed that she kept up the non-stop chatter and the clichés to mask her shyness and awkwardness, and he only had to listen to about one sentence in ten and nod if she ended a sentence with an upward inflection that suggested a question.
It was a beautiful day, and even though the company was not who he would have chosen, he was enjoying his time in the park with the kids. He looked down at Imogene, sitting forward in her pushchair and chewing on a rusk. The sun glistened on her abundant curls. When she had been born, he’d imagined that she’d be just like Zach, in a female version, but now she was nearly a year old it was apparent that she was very much her own person. Zach had always been an unrelenting, noisy bundle of energy who required constant interaction and a lot of affirmation. Imogene was much more self-contained. She could keep herself occupied alone for a remarkably long time for such a small child, and she kept up a low mutter of baby noise, as if she was talking to herself. She was very dextrous for her age and loved to sit and play with a textured toy, or, as she was doing now, gum and crumble a piece of food. Unlike Zach, she was a good sleeper too; from the age of four months or so, she’d done a solid twelve hours a night, seven till seven. Lee felt a little tug – because of the hours he worked, he often saw her for just a few minutes a day, and in a funny way, he felt he didn’t know her. She was really cool too. He unstrapped her and lifted her on to his lap. She leaned back against him and continued to gum her rusk happily, smearing some on to his sleeve.
His phone rang, and to his surprise he saw it was Jo. ‘So sorry,’ he said to his companion, who had barely paused for breath. ‘Hi, love,’ he said. ‘Are you done?’
‘Yes, we finished at four t
oday because we have so much homework for tomorrow. Oh, Lee, it was amazing! I learned so much. And Louise is really incredible. She’s definitely our kind of person.’
‘That’s great, I can’t wait to hear all about it.’
‘Listen, I’m walking to the station now. I’ll text you from Waterloo, just before I get on the Tube. I forgot to get anything in for dinner for us. Can we stop at the supermarket once you’ve picked me up?’
‘I’ll sort dinner, don’t worry. You’ve got your homework to do.’ Lee smiled. ‘See you soon. Love you.’
It wasn’t till he put his phone away that he realised the woman had stopped talking at last and was staring at him. ‘You’re going to get dinner? Gosh,’ she said, and then, in a slightly wistful tone, ‘You speak to her so sweetly. Like you’re newly-weds.’
Lee smiled. ‘Married five years, loved her for closer to fifteen. Look, lovely to chat to you, but since I’ve promised dinner, I’d better deliver.’
He called Zach, slipped Imogene back in her pushchair and headed off, leaving Martha’s mum staring after him.
Lee knew his limits, so when Jo texted from Waterloo, he rang the local Italian and arranged to collect pizzas forty minutes later. He pulled up outside the station and Jo slipped into the passenger seat. She leaned over and kissed him on the corner of his mouth then twisted in her seat to blow kisses to both kids.
‘Hello, lovelies! I missed you! Did you have a lovely day?’ Then she sniffed rapturously.’ ‘Is that garlic bread I smell?’
‘Garlic bread, that salad you like and two pizzas to share.’
‘Ah, nobody orders takeaway like you do, sweetie.’
‘Who needs that Masterchef? Masterdial, that’s me.’
‘I’m starving. I was too excited to eat much lunch.’
‘So it was good?’
‘Amazing. I’ve just got so much to do tonight. Today was all presentations: lectures on various aspects of business. Tax, set-up costs and so on, but it was all general, not specific to each person’s business plan or anything. Tomorrow, there’ll be all sorts of experts on hand and we all get one-to-ones with each of them, so I need to prepare all my questions so I can get the best out of each session.’