by June Hopkins
I am shaking now with fury, "Get out Lissa before we really fall out! I am going to go upstairs and speak to my son, tell him that daddy's back; you are not going to spoil this for me."
I brush past her heading for the door. I vaguely hear her saying, "Annie please, wait. I'm sorry..." but I ignore her. I go upstairs and throw myself on the bed still shaking and angry. A few minutes later I hear the front door and then her car pulls away.
"Bitch, what the fuck does she know?" I say out loud with feeling.
"Mummy mummy, wake up." I slowly come to, brushing at the tickling on my nose, then cheek. "Mummy." Harry's soft sing song voice whispers in my ear. I smile to myself but don't let him know I'm awake. I leave it a few more seconds and then grab him with a roar and drag his small body over mine and onto the bed where I pin him down and tickle him while he shrieks with laughter. I pull up his shirt and blow raspberries onto the soft skin of his belly and he wriggles and tries to push my head away. Eventually I drag him into the spoons position and I cuddle him up to me.
"What time is it?" I mumble into his hair.
"Half ten mum. I've been up ages, I've watched a whole DVD but I'm bored now. Can we go to the park and get an ice cream pleaaassee?" he wheedles.
Blimey, 10.30 am. How did that happen? I now realise that I am still fully clothed. I must have crawled under the duvet at some point.
"We can do anything you like for the rest of the day my darling." I squeeze him tight and smile to myself. Harry is going to be sooo excited when I tell him about Tom. I just have to choose the right time.
Chapter 11
An hour later Harry and I are sitting on a bench by the river eating cornets. I love watching the river fast flowing over the rocks, on its way somewhere exciting. The hot summer sun is burning down on my shoulders, chest and back; I know I'm going to be sporting an attractive patchy, strappy t-shirt tan later. I sprayed on some factor 15 quickly before we left. If I had my way I'd have used olive oil; fat skin always looks better tanned, don't care what they say. Given the opportunity I'd strip off and sit here naked. Luckily for Harry my own self confidence issues and the high likelihood of being arrested prevent this, therefore patchy tan it is. I've often considered one of those spray tans at a beauty salon but the thought of standing naked in front of some size six beautician while she gets up close and personal with my cellulite and stretch marks is just too high a price to pay. I mean, I would actually have to lift my boobs and stomach up to allow Miss Size-six to achieve an even tan and what if the paint ran out half way through? Nooo, way too embarrassing. I'll stick with the DIY stuff thanks. Harry on the other hand is covered head to toe in factor 50, wearing three-quarter length t-shirt and shorts and a hat on his head. I'm not taking any chances with his delicate skin even if I am prepared to ruin my own.
Harry finishes his cornet and begins ferreting through my bag for the bread I brought to feed to the ducks. He finds it and starts to break it up. Within seconds we are surrounded by ducks; I take a slice and join in the fun. This seems the perfect moment to spill the beans.
"Um Harry, I've got a really big surprise for you." I tell him expectantly.
He looks up quickly from his task, “Cool. Can I have it now?"
"Please." I correct him.
"Please." he looks expectantly towards my bag.
"It's not a present Harry."
"Oh isn't it? What is it then?" He's disappointed. Harry loves presents. Well, don't we all?"
"Well, the thing is Harry, I have something very exciting to tell you, you see."
"Whoa mum did you see that? That big green duck just pecked this little one and stole his bread."
"Oh, really? Well, oh dear, um, Harry can you listen please? I'm trying to speak to you." I've already lost his interest.
"You're horrible," he suddenly shouts as he stamps his foot at the hapless duck. The ducks are startled and begin to run off.
"Harry that's enough, you're frightening them. Come and sit down please." But it’s too late; he's now off and chasing all the ducks here, there and everywhere. There is a lot of quacking and fluttering and suddenly they all head en masse for the river, Harry in hot pursuit and me after him. I can see where this is leading and I'm not fast enough to catch up. I shout his name at the top of my lungs and prepare to dive in the river after my son, when out of nowhere a man lunges forwards and picks Harry off the ground just inches from the water’s edge. My heart is hammering in my throat and I can hardly speak. I bend over and put my hands on my knees, relief making me feel dizzy and say a squeaked "Thank you." to the stranger.
"You're very welcome," he tells me. My head shoots up; I know that voice. Tom. He is smiling at me and trying to hold on to my wriggling son who is not impressed at having his game interrupted. I stand very still. Well there it is; the two of them together, right in front of me. I just stare. Harry is huffing and puffing as he struggles to release himself from his captor. I can't read Tom's expression. He is staring back at me and I don't know what to do for the best.
"Get off, get off me. Mum, tell 'im."
Tom starts; he ruffles Harry's hair and sets him down safely on the path away from the water.
"You should be more careful young man, you nearly went in there. You should listen to your mother," Tom tells him sternly. Harry stares up at him shading his eyes from the sun and Tom kneels down, his face now on a level with his son. I can't speak and swear my whole body has gone numb; my mouth is dry as a bone. Tom and Harry stare at each other.
"Hello Harry," Tom says softly with a voice full of meaning.
"Hello," Harry replies simply, “how do you know my name?"
"I know your mummy. My name is Tom. It's nice to meet you," as he says this he holds out his hand to shake Harry's small one. Harry shakes his hand firmly. I feel a moment of pride in my son; he knows how to behave, that is, when he's not duck-worrying anyway.
I find my voice,"Tom, how nice to see you again, so soon," I say suspiciously. I have the fleeting feeling that we are being stalked.
Tom raises an eyebrow, "I'm here quite by accident, honestly. I just fancied getting out for a bit, away from the fireworks." He gives me a wry smile. Ah, of course. Ben and Lissa are obviously still at it.
"Fireworks! I love fireworks, where are they?" Harry pipes up.
"I think the fireworks have finished now but how about if I buy you both lunch? Maybe a burger and chips?"
"Uh oh. No sorry we can't," from me is drowned out by Harry's over exuberant “Yessss!”
"Can we mum please? You said I could do what I wanted today. You promised!"
So I did this morning when I was feeling soppy. I glance nervously at Tom, who is still kneeling down in front of Harry. They both have the same hopeful look on their faces. I am so not ready for this. I haven't told Harry yet. Why do I always seem to be wrong-footed? I want some control of the situation but as I look at them, I hear my voice saying "Yes, I don't see why not." Christ, why can't I be more assertive? I sigh heavily. Oh well this is hardly a situation you plan for in advance. I may as well go with it and see what happens. I mean, what's the worst that could happen? Before I know it we are heading for a pub lunch out of town in Tom's fabulous hired soft top BMW. Harry thinks all his Christmases have come at once getting to go for a drive in this beauty. My excuses about no booster seat were blown away when one was produced with a flourish from the boot. Apparently they provided one with the car, which I must say is excellent customer service.
"So where are we going?" I shout at Tom. The top is down and the noise from the wind makes conversation difficult. I thank God that I had tied my hair up this morning, mainly because I couldn't be bothered to straighten it but at least I won't look like Bridget Jones in that scene when she arrived at the posh hotel for the weekend break, and looks as if she's been electrocuted.
"I can't remember the name of the pub but hopefully the way. It's down on the bank of the Severn. With any luck they are still in business. Unless of course you know of
a good place?" Tom asks as he glances over at me and I feel my knees turn to jelly.
"No, I'll leave everything to you. This is quite a treat, being whisked off for an unexpected lunch. I am just going to enjoy myself." I smile at him, then suddenly feel a rush of happiness. I put my head back on the leather headrest and laugh out loud. Not the best idea in a fast going open top car, as something with wings hits me in the back of the throat and I start coughing like a 40-a-dayer.
"Annie, are you all right? Do you want me to pull over?"
I hold up a hand to show that I'm fine while I finish choking. Eventually it subsides, my eyes and nose are running and I quickly rummage in my bag for a tissue. Tom keeps looking across at me with a concerned frown and eventually I pull myself together and give him what I hope is a serene, composed smile to let him know that I am perfectly fine. This earns me a strange sort of startled look from Tom, which I interpret as an, “Oh thank goodness, she's not dying”.
Half an hour later we sweep majestically onto the drive of a pretty pub called The Boatman. I've heard of it but never actually frequented it. I wonder briefly why, as the place is lovely; all creamy exterior strewn with ivy, and a riot of colourful hanging baskets everywhere. I get the impression that inside the place will be full of old oak beams and brass horseshoes.
"Oh lovely," I breathe.
"Isn't it? And just how I remember." Tom says somewhat smugly.
He pushes a button and the top appears from out of nowhere and slowly slides back into place. We get out and I watch as Tom helps Harry out.
"Who's for burgers then?" Tom asks.
"Meee!" shouts Harry. "That was a really cool ride. I can't wait to go home," Harry tells Tom, his voice full of excitement.
"Only too happy to oblige, but let's have lunch first shall we, and then we can take the long way back. How's that?" Tom tells him with a smile as he ruffles Harry's hair again.
"Yeaaa, brilliant." Harry runs round the back of the car to me, "Mum isn't this the most amazing car ever, so fast and...?" He stops mid flow and stares at me, "You look like a panda bear."
"What? Oh well I..." Oh, for goodness sake, my mascara must have run during my coughing fit. Serves me right for buying cheap crap. "Oh, right, I had better go to the Ladies and sort myself out," I say self consciously.
"You go on Annie, Harry and I will get the drinks in. Gin and tonic for you?"
"Yes, lovely, thanks, won't be a mo," I call back to him as I am already heading inside, keeping my head down.
Good grief, I look ridiculous and do indeed look like a panda, a panda with a red nose. For crying out loud, what is wrong with me? You wouldn't catch Lissa dead looking like this. No wonder the startled look in the car from Tom. I must have given him a right fright. I bet he's already wondering why he bothered. Thankfully I have my big handbag with me, which has pretty much everything in it but the kitchen sink, and so I use Harry's baby wipes to clean off the mascara and then reapply my make up. The hair stood up to the wind tunnel which is one saving grace.
When I emerge from the Ladies, I find Tom and Harry outside in the children's play area. They are both laughing and Tom is holding Harry's hand as he helps him to balance along a log.
"Hey, that's better," Tom tells me, "you've scrubbed up well. Saves me having to black up my eyes to fit in," he laughs loudly at his own joke and Harry joins in.
"You did look pretty silly mummy," he tells me as he reaches the end and jumps to the ground.
I smile at them, "Yes I know, very funny. You two look like you're having fun." Let's change the subject immediately.
"Drinks are over here," Tom tells me as he and Harry walk over to a bench with a lovely view over the river.
"I hope you don't mind, but I have ordered burger and chips for the three of us. You do like burgers, don't you? Harry said you did,” he looks anxiously at me.
"Love them," I tell him happily.
We spend the next hour eating and talking non stop. Or should I say Tom and Harry talk non stop. I have hardly managed to get a word in, not that I care; I've spent most of the time just feeling all pink and fluffy whilst I smile indulgently at the two of them getting on so well. Of course I am also nervous about telling Harry the truth and as the time goes on I am sort of wishing that he already knew. Just because they are getting on, it doesn't automatically mean that Harry will be totally made up when he finds out. I don't know whether to tell him while Tom is with us or wait until we get home, but tell him I must as I have the feeling that now they have met, Tom won't be prepared to wait for very long.
The pretty young blonde waitress arriving to clear our plates forces me to tune back into the conversation just in time to hear Tom ordering the biggest ice cream they have for Harry. Harry looks at Tom as if he is David Beckham and I wonder if I may be worrying for nothing about Harry's reaction.
"Would you like dessert Annie?" Tom asks.
"Oooh yes, lovely. I did see a lovely fudge chocolate gateau in the dessert cabinet," I tell the waitress a little over exuberantly. Might as well join in the fun, show that I'm a go-for-it sort of gal and all that. "With cream, please." Well, in for a penny, she smiles sweetly at me.
"Good choice Madam," she tells me, "and you Sir?"
"Just an espresso for me please; need to watch the waistline," Tom says as he rubs his non existent stomach and winks at the waitress who nearly swoons and turns a pretty shade of pink.
"Oh umm perhaps..." I tail off, as she has already turned and is walking back towards the pub, hips swaying suggestively in her short black skirt and long tanned legs which seem to go on forever. She glances back over her shoulder and sends a flirty look Tom's way and I hope that she falls over and lands in a dog turd.
That's just great, now I feel embarrassed and look like a right greedy pig. What was I thinking? I should have waited to see what Tom was having; now I was going to have to sit and eat the pudding in front of him. Grrrr, I'll just have to say that I've lost my appetite, or maybe I could run in and get legs to cancel it.
"Its good to see a woman eat normally," Tom breaks into my thoughts. "Back in New York they seem to do anything to avoid eating. It drives me mad; I'm surprised they haven't all got long ears and bob tails with all the lettuce they eat." He laughs and I get the feeling that he picked up on my uneasiness. I smile at him in relief. He is so thoughtful and sweet but I am still not eating it. He turns his attention back to Harry who is slurping at the remnants of his coca cola through a straw, "What's your favourite toy Harry?"
"Trampoline," Harry stops slurping long enough to answer, though he keeps the straw in his mouth.
"Trampoline eh? Have you got one?"
"Yep, it's huge, Grampy got it for me at Christmas," he makes another loud noise with the straw; I take the glass off of him.
"Thank you, young man that's quite enough of that."
Harry gives me a mutinous look and I give him my sternest ”You will behave” one back. He sighs loudly but I know I've won.
He turns his attention back to Tom "Mummy doesn't come on it, though," he tells him.
"Oh really, why not?" Tom asks. I only have the briefest moment of horror as I realise what is going to come out of my angelic child's mouth next, before he informs Tom in a loud voice.
"Well the first time she went on it, she wet herself, didn't you mum? It was really funny." Harry imparts this little titbit and then dissolves into peals of laughter. Tom looks as if he is about to join in; the waitress who has returned with the desserts, snorts rather unattractively and I turn a violent scarlet and quite simply want to die.
"Thank you Harry," I say thickly as the waitress compounds my distress by slapping down onto the table in front of me what has to be at least half of the gateau and approximately a tub of cream. She places a huge Knickerbocker Glory in front of Harry and a dainty steaming espresso cup in front of Tom. She throws yet another flirty look at him and I swear a triumphant smug look at me with my enormous dessert, and cheerfully sashays back to the pub.
Harry squeals with delight and plunges into his ice cream which he has to get up on his knees to reach, and I push my dessert away from me with a “Sorry, I'm just not hungry” excuse to Tom. I am not lying I couldn't eat that if you paid me. I feel as if the whole world is out to get me, including my son. Tom has the good grace not to mention the trampoline again, although I seriously would like to put the record straight. I did not wet myself, as Harry implied, I merely had a small leak. Apparently these trampolines are renowned for playing havoc with the old pelvic floor muscles. The only reason Harry is privy to that information is because I was giggling about it with Mia one evening and he came down for a drink and as usual wanted to know exactly what we were laughing about.
Tom clearly senses my discomfort and diplomatically strikes up conversation with Harry whilst I sit and cringe to myself, wishing that I was alone in a darkened room. They are now discussing school and Harry is filling in Tom on the fact that we are late every day and that mummy got into trouble for it, which is true. I was taken to task by the teacher before the end of term, but that is not the point. I wish we had never accepted the damn lunch invitation, as right now Tom must think that I am the worst mother in the world; trailer trash who nearly allows her son to drown, who eats too much, wets herself and is in trouble with the teachers because she can't get her child to school on time. Great, just great. We need to go home now, before Tom calls the Social.
"Mum can I have one last go on the play area, please?"
Before I can answer, Tom tells him to go for it and Harry doesn't need to be told twice. He scrambles down and takes off full pelt across the garden to join the other kids. Tom turns and looks at me, a small smile playing around his lips. I jump in before he can voice any thoughts re. teachers, urine or anything else which may come to mind.
"Tom really, Harry is exaggerating you know. Things aren't quite as he is making them appear. You know what children are like," I send him a pleading look and he smiles at me reassuringly.