by June Hopkins
"Nothing really dear. Tom piped up and put his father straight. I have to admire him for it; he simply told them that he had known for years. Charles seemed to sober up at that and asked if we would mind leaving them to talk, which of course we did. I should imagine they have rather a lot to discuss. Penelope looked rather bemused and upset, poor thing. I think she will find it hard to understand his motives," says mum a little worriedly.
I sigh loudly, "Well, luckily for us it's a lovely afternoon for sitting in the garden and I can't imagine the weather is that good in there. I hope they are not the sort of family that likes to throw things mum, what with your good china all over the table."
My mum's hand goes to her mouth dramatically and we all laugh loudly at her.
Chapter 17
The following morning I wake in my old bedroom at mum and dad's; my old room is still exactly the same, minus the items taken with me into my adult life. My old toys, books and posters still grace the shelves and walls. My big double bed feels as comfortable as ever and I snuggle down into it while I take some time to wake up. I glance over at my old alarm clock and feel awful when I realise that it's already 10.00 am. I bet Harry's been up for hours. I have to start work at midday and I need to get home and have a shower. I've told Tom that he can have Harry again so that they can spend some time with Charles and Penelope and then I have to meet them all at the hotel for a meal at 6.30. I had better get a shift on. I jump out of bed, chuck my clothes back on, shove my hair up into a pony tail and go downstairs to find my son.
Mum is in the kitchen and has just made tea which I could kill for right now. She says, "Good morning" and hands me a steaming mug. I settle myself at the kitchen table and sip at it gratefully.
"Thanks mum, I needed this. Where's Harry?"
"He's in the surgery with your father learning to handle the drill." I make a face that shows my displeasure; that has to be the worst sound in the world.
Mum laughs at my face, "Well what did you make of yesterday? Are you still cross with me?"
"Nah, its fine. Things went pretty well I thought in the end, didn't you?"
"I suppose, but I do hope that Penelope is feeling a little better today. She did seem awfully upset." Tom certainly did a number on them, I think to myself but clearly he gave them the same explanation as he gave me and they've forgiven him. Can't say I blame them. I did, after all, and he's not my son.
"Still, as you wished I did make the peace with Lissa and Ben and even feel a little happier having Tom around, so I would say rather a good day's work mother."
"I do have my uses young lady; I'm glad that it helped."
"How's dad? Has he calmed down a little over Tom, or is he still hell bent on believing him to be a kidnapper?" I ask.
"Now Annie that will do. Your father never said that. He was worried about you and Harry, that's all. Would you rather he didn't care?" Mum has an edge to her voice as she defends my father.
"No, of course not. Sorry. But how is he though? Has he said anything? Only I've told Tom that he can have Harry this afternoon to spend time with Charles and Penelope. I don't want dad going off on one about it."
"He's fine darling. He feels much happier having met the family and to be honest I think he's grateful that he's not in Charles's shoes. At least he hasn't missed out on Harry over the years as they have. It's only right that they should spend time with him, so please don't worry. We will do all we can to help." Mum smiles at me and I feel like a weight has been lifted. At least now I don't have the added worry of mum and dad's feelings; I can just concentrate on my own. Only that will have to wait till later, I've got to get going.
By the time Tom turns up at mine, I have primped and preened myself as much as possible without looking as if I'm off for a night on the town. I've gone for a pretty carefree summery look, not dissimilar to Lissa's yesterday, but there is only so much you can do when you are dressing to spend the next five hours behind a bar pulling pints. However, I did get a "You look nice," comment from Tom which made it all worthwhile.
Alex is slightly confused when I turn up at the pub, as he whistles at me and makes some comment along the lines of, "Bloody hell, who are you out to impress?" To say that I don't normally bother would be an understatement, therefore I can hardly blame people for being a little surprised at my effort. I fob him off, and the numerous customers who also feel the need to comment, with the fact that I'm off out for a meal straight after work and wouldn't have had the time to go home to change. This appeased them and got them off my back.
Finishing my shift at 6.00 I have half an hour to sort myself out and get over to the hotel so I take my bag to the ladies and add some fresh makeup, perfume and deodorant. I brush my hair and rush out of the door, jump into my car and make it to the hotel at 6.25 pm. Walking in through the front door I spot Tom looking fresh and handsome at the bar. I wander over and ask for an orange juice when he offers. He seems pleased to see me and the butterflies take up familiar residence in my stomach. I help him carry the drinks over to his family and say my hellos. Charles jumps up and encloses me in a bear hug. I wasn't expecting that. Penelope smiles warmly at me and Harry jumps onto my lap the minute I sit down, regaling me with tales of the Wild Fowl Trust he has been to this afternoon.
We spend a pleasant couple of hours, chatting and eating and I feel right at home with them all. Tom's parents are kind enough not to mention the whole “not seeing Harry for seven years thing” but they are keen to know any tales that Harry and I have to tell about our lives together so far. By the time Harry and I drive home I am floating on air. Tom has been his most charming tonight; he gave me a soft kiss on the cheek when we parted that lingered just a second longer than perhaps it should have and I have agreed to go out with them all for the day tomorrow to the seaside. Well, Weston Super Mare, but same dog, less hair. We are being picked up at 9.00 in the morning and I can't wait. I sleep like a baby and dream of my New York lifestyle that is surely waiting for me.
Chapter 18
I am having the best day. I'm virtually skipping about with excitement. We ate fish and chips in the paper while sitting on the sea wall, spent an hour or so on the new pier, built sand castles and ate ice cream. We are now in Brean, a small place just round the bay from Weston, at the funfair, and Harry is having a wild time dragging all of us on the scariest rides that he is allowed on for his age. Unfortunately for us that doesn't leave a lot out. I've given in on a couple but draw the line at anything ridiculously high or that goes upside down, although fair play to Penelope what an adrenaline junkie she is. Who knew?
I've sat out the last two on a bench munching happily on candy floss in the sun. I feel good in my Indian style skirt, white three quarter-sleeved t-shirt and white dolly shoes. Thank God for my Bridget Jones knickers that help me just about get away with the outfit. The others are on one of the scarier rides apart from Charles who has been in the bar for the past hour. I sit up straight as I hear Harry's voice coming towards me.
"Mum, oh mum! Did you see us? That was awesome. Granny Penelope didn't even scream," he flies over to me and my heart jumps at his happy face. This is the way it should have been for the last seven years.
Penelope, looking elegant in well fitting jeans and blouse, joins us, her face glowing from the excitement. “Don’t you believe him Annie; that was horrid. I'm not sure I would ride that again in a hurry."
Tom laughs as he joins us, "Well I know I nearly screamed a couple of times. What a rush."
"The lot of you are mad; you wouldn't catch me on it if you paid me," I tell them with feeling as I eye up the stomach churning ride that appears to stand about 100ft in the air.
"Is my father still in the pub?" Tom asks with half a smile.
"Yep I assume so, I haven't seen him yet. Oh no, there he is by the Waltzers. You don't think he's planning on riding them do you?"
They all follow my gaze and laugh loudly at Charles who is standing with hands on hips and belly stuck out watching the ride with in
terest. He turns and spots us and gives a big wave. As he saunters on over to us I swear there is a slight wobble and not just from his stomach. Blimey he must have knocked a fair few back in the time he's had.
"Well, well! Has everyone had a lovely time?" Charles booms at us all, "Shall we make a move?"
A “yes” from the rest of us is drowned out by Harry who as usual has never had enough.
"Ahh, no not yet; I want to go on the fun house. Mum, you promised to take me on it."
I glance over at the ramshackle ride full of mirrors that make you look like Pavarotti on a bad day and can't think of anything worse. "Oh Harry, I think that you've had more than enough fun for one day don't you?" I say in a please-don't-make-a-scene type of voice that Harry understands well enough and one that he chooses to completely ignore.
"You always do that mum. You promise and then you go back on it," he pouts at me and I want to slap him for showing me up in front of his new family.
Tom steps in, "Harry, that's not very nice of you, is it? Your mum has been on loads of rides with you this afternoon."
Harry looks as if he wants to argue but thinks better of it and instead says a sulky “Sorry mum” to me. Then, just when I think I'm in the clear, he pipes up with, "But I've still got some tokens left and I really wanted mum to come on it with me on our own," he pouts slightly and puts his head down. Glancing at the others I spot Penelope and Charles's 'ahh poor thing' look and Tom's 'ahh how sweet' look. Bloody hell my kid is good. I'm not sure where he learnt that old manipulation trick but fair play. I feel my eyes narrowing at him. I've no sodding choice now have I? If I say no I'll end up looking like the person who shot Bambi's mother, for fuck sake.
"Come on then Harry, let's do it but you have to promise to look after me. I haven't been on this one before and no laughing at me in those mirrors," I say in a sickly I'm-so-happy type of voice. I jump up and spot the relief on the faces of the others. Taking Harry's hand, I march him off a little too jovially over to the ride, trying not to pull his arm out of its socket.
The other three let us know they'll wait outside and in we go. It's dark as hell in here and we have to feel our way around by the walls. This creeps me out as I start imagining spiders. I thought this was supposed to be the fun house, not the bloody haunted one. I nearly fall over as we walk onto some sort of moving floor and then out into the hall of dreaded mirrors. We do spend a little time laughing at each other, I have to say, and I relax slightly and decide to stop being a spoil sport and enjoy myself. I want to make a good impression after all. Finishing the mirrors we now ascend the rickety stairs, which is putting it mildly; I'm surprised the whole structure doesn't collapse but then again this is supposed to be for children.
Up in the daylight and along the balcony to the other end, we stop to wave at the others and then make our way across to the other door. The next thing I know my lovely floaty skirt is somewhere up around my neck and Marilyn Monroe it ain't, as I walk over some sort of vent which blows a hurricane up through the holes. I can hear Charles's booming laugher down below and Harry's helpless giggles behind me as I fight to bring the material down and get off the vent. Eventually I manage it and feel myself burning bright red from the exertion and humiliation. Charles is still roaring which has attracted other fair goers, and when I eventually dare to glance down I can see a number of complete strangers in hysterics and Tom and Penelope politely trying to contain themselves. Brilliant. I head for the doorway as quickly as possible throwing them a weak smile as I try to show what a star I am.
Once safely inside again I wait for Harry to catch up and then have to crawl through some sort of rotating barrel which throws us around inelegantly. Harry is giggling for all he is worth and just as I am starting to think this ritual humiliation may have been worth it we step out once again into the daylight.
"Whoa mum look! Brilliant! " Following my gorgeous child's pointing finger with my eyes I find myself staring at a very long, very thin slide, at the bottom of which is another smaller rotating barrel and a crash mat on the other side of it.
"Oh no darling, I'll leave that one to you," I tell him with a laugh.
"No you won't love, it's the only way out; you're going down as well." I turn to find a scruffy looking woman with very bad teeth who hands first Harry, and then me, a straw mat.
"You've got no chance; my backside won't even fit on that slide. Please can you just show me the stairs and I'll get out of your way?" I plead with her as politely as possible.
She simply stares at me, before saying, "You don't seem to understand love, there aren't any stairs, this is the only way down."
I am the one who now stares at her, my eyes wide, "Oh you have got to be joking?"
"Nope" she smiles sarcastically at me. Bitch. She’s enjoying this.
Harry doesn’t seem phased at all; he positions himself on his mat and shouts out to Tom, Penelope and Charles to watch him, which is just great. Once he is sure he has their full attention he lets go and flies off down the slide. The barrel sends him up into the air, he does a mid air somersault and lands flat on his back on the crash mat. Charles lets out a roar of approval and all I can think is, "No effing way."
"Come on, missus. Can't stand there all day, you're holding up the queue."
I glance nervously behind and sure enough there are kids getting impatient backed up behind me.
"Um that's ok, they can go first," I say generously and try to stand back out of the way. Unfortunately there isn't actually anywhere to stand back and I nearly crush a small child who yells out at me.
"Please would you just get on with it lady?"
I glare at her; if looks could kill she would be a pile of green goo on the floor. However they can't, and she just gives me a smirking grin back.
"Come on Annie, love, your turn," Charles shouts up helpfully from below, bloody man.
I take a deep breath. Well I wanted to look like a good fun, up-for-anything kind of mother and it seems I'm about to get my chance. I have absolutely no choice so I position myself precariously on my mat trying hard to not show my knickers again, all the while praying that my ass will fit in the slide. It does, just. I brace my arms on the side and take another deep breath then push myself over the edge as hard as I can. I so don't want to get stuck halfway down. I take off at a good speed down the slide heading for the barrel; it comes up fast, my legs flip up in the air and my ass lifts. I bend at the waist but I don't go over, the barrel keeps moving and so do my legs and my backside, but the rest of me is stuck.
Oh Jesus, God almighty, I'm stuck! I become aware of Charles and Tom quite simply roaring with laughter and then to make matters worse I hear a voice over the Tannoy.
"Oh dear, oh dear. What have we here then? Good job you've got your best pants on love," followed by uproarious laughter.
I am dying, here; this is unbelievable. The barrel is still going round; my legs are ritually being thrown into the air as the barrel lifts me half way out on each rotation and then unceremoniously drops me back down. And so it continues. I fight with my skirt as I try to keep some semblance of dignity. I am completely helpless and I can feel the tears of frustration starting to smart.
"Oh dear, well looks like we are going to have to turn the machine off doesn't it?" The hateful man on the Tannoy helpfully informs the gathering crowd. I wish he'd just turn the fucking thing off instead of making smart comments; I am so going to punch him in the face if I ever get out of here. Charles and Tom sound like they are about to wet themselves, along with Harry who is beside himself with laughter.
Eventually after what seems like about half an hour but is probably in reality less than five minutes the awful Tannoy man turns the machine off. The barrel slowly stops and I am able to remove myself from the dippy I'm stuck in. I pull myself up and climb over the barrel, my face beetroot with embarrassment. I'm shaking with humiliation. I am, it has to be said, traumatised by the ordeal. A huge roar of applause goes up and people are actually cheering me, along wit
h Tannoy man who is egging the crowd on, saying what a sport I am.
I can't get out of the place fast enough, well, as fast as my shaking legs will allow me. Penelope takes my arm and whisks me off as soon as I reach her but the other three can't even follow us for laughing. Before I know it I'm inside sitting at the bar with a large gin and tonic in front of me, which I gratefully gulp at. Penelope is being absolutely lovely and clearly is sympathising with me over the entire ordeal.
I am sipping the second gin by the time the others find us. I am stunned; I can hardly speak. I just smile like a loon as they kindly take me back through the whole farce, giving second by second accounts. Each of them is still laughing heartily, taking up the baton from each other as they recount their individual take on the whole thing, from my facial expressions to Tannoy man. They are snorting and guffawing like a bunch of hyenas. I glance at Penelope for help and although she is clearly fighting the urge to laugh herself she restrains and helps me off my stool and tells them in no uncertain terms that that is more than enough, we are going home and that she does not want to hear another word from any of them. Suitably chastised they all shut up, apart from the odd involuntary snort which they each try not very successfully to conceal.
As we walk back to the car I am close to tears. I feel like a complete moron. Why does this always happen to me? I can't wait to get home, go to bed and hide under my duvet for the next few weeks. I am clearly not safe to be out.
On the way home in the car, Charles broaches the subject of Harry and I coming back to Surrey with them tomorrow for a few days’ visit. He is desperate to show Harry his family home. I quietly explain that I have to work and have no one to cover for me at this short notice. By the time we reach the cottage I have been coerced, sweet talked, bullied, call it what you will, into agreeing that Harry can go with them until Friday. There is a church rehearsal and dinner at the weekend which Tom has to be back for. I quite simply had nothing left to fight them with after the fun house horror story. I am feeling so crap that you could get me to agree to anything as long as it meant I am left alone. I don't want to speak to anyone. My face is hurting from the false smiles I have been bestowing on them in the hope that no one will realise I'm close to tears, apart from Penelope who is more than aware and keeps squeezing my hand. Penelope does try to make me wait until the morning before making a decision. It is clear she realises the state I'm in and the fact that I may change my mind, but so desperate am I to make Tom see me as more than just the ridiculous lunatic that is bringing up his child, I agree there and then.