by Amanda Egan
“When we started this school 20 years ago, it was always our intention to run CCL. However, we cannot do this without our parents’ support. If there are enough who feel strongly against it, we would have no choice but to cease fundraising immediately. Of course, any trust students already attending the school would be permitted to continue until the end of their education here at Manor House.
Several mothers began to speak at once - all desperate to make their opinions clear.
“Good heavens no, don’t do away with CCL. It’s fantastic.”
“Here, here. I’m all for it.”
“I’ve never heard anyone say anything against it until today.”
“I can’t believe that of Manor House mothers.”
Mrs Montague looked relieved but continued, “It’s good to hear so many positive comments around the room but we still need to ask that you survey all parents in your class and then get back to us with your findings. As trustees, we are unable to make direct approaches in case we are accused of trying to influence the result by imposing our views.”
She then gave one rep from each class a folder with surveys and updated class lists. “Please return these to the school as soon as possible and we’ll meet again with your findings at the same time next week. Thank you all so much for your time.”
Fenella & I left in silence. It really had left a nasty taste in my mouth and I couldn’t actually think of anything to say.
The silence was broken by Fenella who managed to articulate my thoughts.
“What an evil bitch that Nerissa is. Just how many do you think there are in her merry little band? She needs to be cut down to size (we exchanged looks to acknowledge the irony). God I don’t want to mix with her kind.”
She then decided that there was no time like the present and, as she had a few spare hours, she was going to drive to every Seedlings home and personally deliver the surveys.
“And those that are in will receive a potted version of the vile diatribe that spewed from that poisoned dwarf’s putrid mouth. Don’t worry, I’ll get them on side, Lib. Speak later.”
Felt quite confident as I know how persuasive Fenella can be - after all I’ve been on the other end of it.
Ned was gob-smacked by the news. “God Lib, do we really want Max exposed to snobbery like that? I hope it’s not the majority ‘cos I might start to have second thoughts about this prep lark.”
Luckily Fenella called to say that she had all but one completed surveys (au pair only at home) and not one felt that CCL should be abolished.
Rightly feeling very proud of herself but had to rein her in when she began talking about starting up the ‘GNOME’ group - “Get Nerissa Out (of) Manor (House) Education. Tempting but I couldn’t agree to it.
Wednesday 11th June AM
Am now heartily sick of cleaning or stepping in dog poo or wee and smelling a combination of both. Dog is definitely getting spayed as soon as poss. No more puppies for him.
Put Christmas Fair on the back burner and started thinking about ideas for Max’s party. Have to get the invites out soon as August is such a bad month - half the London school set will be away.
He’s decided he wants a fancy dress party. Other requests dictated to me were:
Want to go as Dog
Fun games
Sunny day in my garden
All nursery kids plus Todd & Charlotte
No entertainer - bored with them
Cake must have lots of coloured icing and 5 candles
Must win one pass-the-parcel - it’s my birthday
Jelly must be green and ice cream chocolate. PLEASE can we have sprinkles?
No vegetables
Party bags must be good.
I giggled over the list as it sounded a bit like the sort of bargain bucket party I’d envisaged NM hosting for PP, albeit that the guest list was slightly longer. How funny that Max should be so sick of entertainers by the ripe old age of five. Just goes to show how many clichéd ‘mother-chucks-money-at-a-magician’ parties kids can take before they’ve had their fill.
Drew up list of my own:
Make invites - Dog theme?
Trawl web for cheap but effective Dog costume. Make own?
House too small to hold inside, so pray for that sunny day - but not too hot or Max will be ‘Melting Dog’. Contemplate contingencies if raining. Mini gazebo? (check Argos catalogue for bargain)
Web search new and exciting fun games.
Buy pass the parcel prizes and wrap - remember there has to be a sweet between each layer nowadays as no child must be subjected to the trauma of not winning! Who started that idea?
Start looking for inexpensive party bag treats - ratio of 3 sweets to 1 gift seems to be the norm. May break from the mould and do just 1 decent (small) gift per child. Would Max ever forgive me or could I start a new trend? To consider.
Buy cake tin in shape of a dog or dog’s head.
Draw up list of food - no vegetables.
Suddenly planning a party for 20 kids (at our own home!) seems a cinch compared to my new school commitments. Never would have considered the idea up to a month ago. Obviously constantly growing as a parent and learning to go with the flow my child creates.
PM
What was all that bollocks I was on about earlier?
Max was having his tea when he calmly informed me that he still wanted to have the party he’d mentioned but,
“I also want a puppet show.”
What? Everything was going so well and I thought I had it all under control.
“Yes, Mummy,” he continued, “But I don’t want a paid for one.” (He made this sound like a dirty word.) “I want you and Daddy to do it, like you do for me sometimes but for all my friends.”
Good grief. The child has clearly lost his marbles. I don’t think 20 kids would be entertained for very long by the kind of half arsed attempt Ned and I usually make at puppetry.
I played for time and said I’d discuss it with Daddy - hoping I knew what his response would be.
Thursday 12th June
Went to bed in a huff last night. Can’t believe that Ned thought the puppet show was a good idea. Bet he’s only agreed to it because he’s terrified Max will decide he wants an expensive entertainer after all and, at least this way, it’s a cheap done deal.
He even went out into the shed looking for bits of old wood and paint to make the theatre!
Finally gave up on him when he sat at the computer and started working on our ‘scripts’ - really thinking he’s taking this a bit too far. Doesn’t he realise how much I have on my plate?
Fenella thinks it’s hilarious and ‘terribly sweet’.
“Oh, I do hope we’re invited. Can’t wait to see what you come up with. What fun! Can we book you for Charlotte’s?”
Cut her short, as I wanted her to side with me not Ned. And I don’t want to take advance bookings for a poxy puppet show I have no desire to be part off.
Going to sulk.
Friday 13th June AM
OK Friday the 13th … what can you throw at me today? Aside from some puppy crap on the stairs and stubbing my toe on the monstrosity of a part-built puppet theatre that now appears to live in our hall?
Managed to get to and from nursery safely, only to find that the postman was waiting on the doorstep with a parcel.
Knew I hadn’t ordered anything so rushed inside to open it.
Two bloody dog puppets, ordered from some wanky website by Ned on Wednesday night when he was in full puppeteer mode.
Checked email to find he’d also sent my first draft of our script for ‘Dog Saves the World’. I play the part of Delilah - Dog’s assistant. There are about three acts and, after a quick, reluctant scanning, lots of slapstick and appropriately silly jokes. Privately admitted it was really rather good but bugger me if I’ll let on to Ned.
Next email was another from Ned asking me to sort out ‘the attached list of props’.
Have to hand it to him for trying bu
t I refuse to get roped into this any more than necessary. I will not spend my morning running around on assistant stage manager’s duties. I have other more important things to do.
Am now off to paint my nails a suitably whorish colour for tomorrow night and then pluck my wayward eyebrows - have noticed they’re in a permanent frown.
PM
Ned came home with some yummy wine from a client. He also suggested a take-away - sure sign of a guilty conscience.
Max went to bed early, very excited about the impending puppet show. Have to admit a five year old’s enthusiasm does start to rub off and I could feel the first stirrings of excitement about the idea. After all, it is original. No other parents have come up with anything similar and then executed it - successfully or otherwise.
Damn Max and his cuteness and damn Ned’s client’s wine - it’s clearly fuddling my brain.
Saturday 14th June AM
Murder mystery tonight.
We took Max swimming this morning and, for once, I didn’t need to care what my hair looked like at the end of it because I knew that this afternoon I’d be transformed. (I can always dream).
Don’t think I looked quite as meaty in my swimming costume - maybe the temporary abstinence has worked. I’ll find out tonight anyway, as I haven’t had a chance to test out the basque again all week. Here’s hoping.
Max, as usual after a swim, was ravenous so we stopped off for a pizza on the way home. Even had one myself - surely the pounds don’t pile on that quickly and I’ll still be semi-svelte for tonight?
Left Max & Ned at home up to boy’s things - raiding the kitchen cupboards for smelly foodstuffs to make a potion that would turn all men into super-heroes. With my growing ‘TO DO’ lists, I only hope they come up with one for women too.
PM
Back from hairdressers and all I can say is, “Thank God I took the car!” Think I’ve now got used to the added tones of copper and auburn but praise the Lord that the style itself is only temporary and no one I knew saw me on the way home.
“Well, you did ask for Edwardian whore,” Ned laughed as he examined my ‘rolled out of bed/half up-half down look’, “And I think you’ll find that’s exactly what you’ve got.” He then touched one of the escapee (intentional of course) curls and commented, “Great colour and, after all, the ‘whore-do’ is only temporary!”
“I think Mummy looks very pretty,” the ever-faithful Max piped up. “I like it when her hair is all shiny bright.”
Think that was meant as a good thing.
Fed Max and puppies then had a fortifying glass of wine before going upstairs to prepare for the fun ahead.
The bustle I’d managed to cobble together from an old lace skirt and cushion was very effective and made me realise how J. Lo must feel. Quite comfy to sit on too!
Called Ned for an extra pair of hands to get trussed up into the basque. Don’t think it’s quite as tight as it was last week as I can actually breathe in it now. Ned said I looked gorgeous, like a ripe Nell Gwyn.
Mum arrived to babysit and said I looked more like Mrs Lovett from ‘Sweeney Todd’.
She’d better watch it or I might just take up pie-making …
Sunday 15th June
Head is throbbing as I write - really must try to show some self-restraint occasionally but it’s so hard when you’re caught up in the moment. I had such fun last night, the last thing I considered was waking up with a brain like a shrivelled prune and a mouth that appears to have been crapped in.
Definitely no alcohol for me next week.
Arrived at F&J’s last night to find that she’d really gone to town for the event. Their dining room had been transformed with velvet drapes and silk scarves. There was no electric light but every possible surface was glittering with variously shaped and sized scented candles.
Fenella looked wonderfully authentic - right down to the smudged red lippy and over-rouged cheeks. I needn’t have worried about my hooters being too much on display because her dumplings were well and truly boiling over and it didn’t seem to bother her in the slightest. Actually went to the loo and adjusted mine - couldn’t possibly be ‘out-boobed’.
Our men looked suitably rakish mixed with a little seediness - perfect combo in a man, I always think.
But of course we all looked like rank amateurs upon the arrival of Madame Sin & Rock Hard! Nic was every drag queen’s dream - God only knows where he got the costume but it fitted him (and his ‘falsies’) like a second skin and its many thousands of sequins caught the light with every movement. His wig was in the Diana Dors vein as was his slightly coarse humour. Think Fenella and I both need to concede that we were out-boobed by a gay.
Rick was the most masculine I’ve ever seen him and I found it a little disconcerting. He doesn’t usually do butch but he appeared to be finding it remarkably easy - clearly the actor in him. (Oooh, just thought of a double entendre attached to that but I don’t even want to go there!)
Sat down to eat at about 9, by which time we were all a little worse for wear after too many glasses of Josh’s ‘Authentic Absinthe’.
Don’t think any of us realised what a long night we’d be in for. After we’d read each scene from the provided scripts, we listened to a summing up CD and then questioned one another. Josh was determined to leave no stone unturned and insisted from very early on that he’d already twigged whodunit. At the end of the evening he admitted that he’d never had a clue and was just trying to appear sharp and not quite as pissed as he was.
I didn’t know who to accuse and still don’t have any idea why Madame Sinful would have strangled one her working girls with her own silk stocking, despite now being in full possession of the facts. Probably helps to keep a clear head when doing these things - bet Columbo didn’t drink on the job.
By about midnight it had all became hilariously raucous with us all throwing the most ridiculous accusations at one another. At one point Fenella said that Ned was definitely guilty because he was wearing a scarlet waistcoat and hadn’t finished all of his pudding. At which point Ned replied that he didn’t intend to finish it because he knew she’d put poison at the bottom of the dish!
Josh shuddered a little when Madame Sinful said that ‘she’ hadn’t forgotten that ‘she’ owed him a particular sexual favour and was that why he’d bumped off one of ‘her’ girls? Think Josh may have the same gay biases as Ned. Question Fenella at later date.
Turned out that none of us were super sleuths because the guilty Madame Sinful got off without a single accusation. Nic drunkenly put this down to his fantastic acting ability and treated us all to a slurred version of his (already prepared) Oscar acceptance speech. Of course this was hugely embroidered and ended, for some reason, with him thanking the milkman, the milkman’s tortoise and the Pakistani man who runs his corner shop.
We all ended with a toast to Sajid and his humble convenience store.
Sounds ridiculous as I write it but guess you had to be there.
Ended the night (morning?) with a medley of Barry Manilow songs. Can still see Fenella and Nic doing a memorable duet of ‘I Made it Through the Rain,’ while Josh and Rick watched lovingly. Mrs S would have been proud of us.
A strange but gay evening!
Monday 16th June AM
Spent morning trying to catch up on the neglected housework. Dog & Co have now been moved to some very comfy duvets under the stairs so I can finally clean under the kitchen table.
Yuck, most of the clothes from under the table had to be chucked but thankfully my Versace blouse wasn’t among them and at least a pile of washing and ironing has now left the building.
Mrs S called to tell me that she’s on her sixtieth jar of pickle and that Pritesh had told her off for planning to charge only a pound a jar. Said that I agreed with Pritesh and that she should charge at least four pounds fifty. “Think of all your time and the cost of the ingredients, Mrs S. And anyway the mums won’t buy anything that’s too cheap because they won’t think it’s goo
d enough for them.”
“Oh good, you are agreeing with my Pritesh. I am thinking that maybe you should meet with him to discuss my profit margins.”
Told her I didn’t think that would be necessary but mentally awarded her ten out of ten for trying.
Got text from Fenella mid morning:
I SO BORED. TODD AT NURSERY. CHARLOTTE AT FRIEND’S. LUNCH? MY TREAT. MUST HAVE XMAS FAIR THINGS TO DISCUSS SO GOOD EXCUSE. XX
As Max was also at a friend for lunch, decided to meet, certain that months of dust and scum could wait another morning. At least it was clean under the table now so I felt I’d made a fairly good start. Each journey starts with a small step and all that baloney.