by Fiona Perrin
‘Oh, gosh, Calypso.’ She jumped in surprise as I towered over her.
‘And you are here, at my children’s school, why?’ I hissed.
She sighed and put her hands on her little hips, clad in another colour-block trouser suit. ‘Well, that is none of your business, really, Calypso, is it?’ She managed to sound calm and collected in the same moment as I sounded desperate and dogged. ‘And while the girls might be yours, you’ve already understood the law as it relates to Wilf.’ Her eyebrows were pitched in a perfect arch and she was talking with none of the tact she’d engineered into her tone when Ralph was by her side. Before I could speak she continued, spitting out the words now: ‘And that’s something you need to get your head round, sweetheart.’
Could a word be more laden with sarcasm? My hands clenched by my sides. ‘But at the moment Wilf lives with me and has been my responsibility for the last eight years. Why can’t you respect that?’
She took a step back and appraised me with the same false solicitude. ‘Oh, Calypso.’ Her sleek blonde head cocked to one side. ‘The thing is, we’ve been very patient, my husband and I, especially when I’ve been so dying to have Wilf under our roof and to develop my relationship with him as his stepmother.’
Despite knowing that she was deliberately trying to hurt me, I was still winded by the words. ‘And for the sake of a few weeks, we thought it worth letting Wilf stay with you, but we might have to rethink that plan in the face of your obvious hostility towards his legal parents and guardians.’
I didn’t understand what she was saying for a brief moment. Then it hit me, like a punch in the abdomen. ‘Oh, you wouldn’t…’ was all I could manage.
‘Ignoring our request for mediation? Showing a lack of care for Wilf’s future happiness? Refusing to put his welfare ahead of your own? I think we have every right to suggest that Wilf immediately relocates to our home.’
She wanted to take Wilf now. Not in a few weeks’ time. To have him live across town with them and get on his bike every day and go to school and return there instead. My sense of loss was as if it had already happened. Would I see him in the high street, pedalling past? Be lucky enough if he decided to come round to our house once a week for a brief, awkward visit? Oh, that hurt.
‘Ralph would never be so mean,’ I managed, but given what he’d already said ‘yes’ to, was I that certain that he would stand up to her?
‘And I think, once we pointed out that there have been two ambulances attending your family in the last week…’ How the hell did she know about Lily? I groaned and thought that Wilf must have texted his father about his sister last night. ‘… and the obvious strain that exams and this situation is putting on you all, it might be better if Wilf packed up his belongings and I helped him move immediately, don’t you?’
‘Don’t be so ridiculous,’ I seethed at her. ‘He would never agree.’ And he wouldn’t. I knew that. He’d say, ‘Cheers, Dad, but I think I’ll just stay with Cal for the rest of the time.’ He doesn’t even like you – he thinks you’ve sucked out his dad’s soul. That was what I wanted to say but, of course, I didn’t.
‘I think, as we’ve found out, the law is pretty clear about parental will in the case of minors of Wilf’s age.’ Petra’s voice dripped with false pity. ‘And you are clearly in no fit state to parent effectively.’
‘How dare you? I’ve looked after Wilf since he was little! I’ve been there when his father wasn’t! When Ralph – I mean, I know he was very depressed and in grief but sometimes he was little better than a drunken—’
‘He is 394 days sober,’ Petra interrupted. ‘He attends AA meetings regularly and conducts himself in a way akin with a healthy lifestyle. I don’t think anyone could call my husband a drunk any more, do you, Calypso? Unlike when he was living with you.’
‘What don’t you get? I couldn’t care less about Ralph, aside from that he is now a better dad and I’m glad he’s recovered. The person I care about is Wilf; that’s it. And my girls.’ I felt a desperate urge to grab her and pull her hair, as if we were kids back in the playground, but instead put my clenched fists in anguish to my face.
Petra looked impatient. ‘I suggest, if you care about him so much, then you move out of my way, Calypso, and allow me to continue into the school so I can arrange his departure and onward education.’ She flicked the key fob and her Mini locked itself. ‘I am here to undertake the necessary formalities. Now, please, step aside.’
I was beaten. I found myself turning from her and walking back towards my car as she walked jauntily into the school to decide Wilf’s future.
*
Later, after spending the rest of the day wondering how to exact revenge on Petra and looking up voodoo dolls on Amazon, I came down from checking on the girls in their rooms and wandered into the kitchen to see Patrick in my scrubby back garden. He and Wilf were standing and talking about Wilf’s bike, which was upended in front of them. I gave the universal sign for a cup of tea and he grinned broadly and mouthed ‘yes’.
I took it out to him. Bodger took a step back and looked approvingly at me as I handed Patrick the mug.
‘It could do with a new chain,’ he said, nodding at the bike. ‘But aside from that, just a bit of oil, air in the tyres and a rub-down.’
A bit like Marv’s plan to refurb me. ‘Pat says he’ll help me.’ Wilf got up from the ground where he’d been crouching.
‘You know you’re supposed to call me William,’ Patrick hissed and they both laughed. Bodger seemed to join in, giving one of his occasional grins. ‘Let’s get cracking, then.’ He started pulling cans of oil and puncture repair kits from a bag at his feet and Wilf’s face lit in delight.
*
Later, when dinner was ready, they were still out there in the fading light. I hovered, thinking I’d have to ask him to eat with us, he was being so kind to Wilf. Plus, most of the food on our table recently had had something to do with him. I was hoping that Daisy was at least a pescatarian today because we were having fish pie, Lily’s favourite.
Pat accepted with alacrity and washed his oily hands at the sink with Wilf. He was enjoying himself; they both were. I wondered how much he minded having time off from teaching – and whether he had any kids of his own.
Daisy raised her eyebrows when she saw him at the table. Lily said nothing but promised me she’d had lots of rest breaks during the day.
‘Patrick would know about that,’ I said. ‘He’s a teacher.’
‘Please,’ he said, his fork heavy with mashed potato, ‘call me William.’
The twins looked confused; Wilf looked really pleased to be in on the joke and then explained it to them. Daisy raised her eyebrows at me again and I ignored her, so she started talking about Riverdale and Patrick leapt in: ‘That’s such a cool series.’
And they were off – all why this character did this to that character in episode three series two, until Lily said, ‘Have you got kids of your own, William?’
Patrick looked a little bit more sober, but then said in his frank way, ‘No, wasn’t lucky enough. My girlfriend and I tried for years but it wasn’t to be.’
The kids nodded. ‘Did you try adoption and stuff?’ Wilf asked.
‘Wilf,’ I said, ‘Patrick – sorry, William – might not want to talk about that to people he’s just met.’
But Patrick held up his hand. ‘Amazing fish pie, by the way. I’m happy to talk about it. Yes, Wilf, we decided in the end to try adoption, but it’s a really intense process and that made my girlfriend and I realise that, while we wanted a baby very much, we probably wanted that more than each other. So, we split up and I was miserable for a while and then I got a new job here, in newly trendy Seymour Hill.’
He was factual and honest, and the kids nodded, appreciating it. I ate some broccoli and thought: We all have our stories by the time we get to our age and this is his.
Daisy wanted the focus back on her, so she said, ‘And do you know what you’re letting yourself in for
at Whitebury?’ They all then competed to tell him stories of how heinous the kids who went to the school were. Patrick joined in, matching them with outrageous, probably made-up tales from schools he’d taught in and it was clear they all quite liked our new neighbour. I quite liked him too and he was certainly helpful. It was just that if you were going to have a man sitting round your dining table, it would be great if he was noble, beautiful Sunil.
Patrick hung around after they disappeared, offering to help me load the dishwasher and asking about the kids – how Lily was doing after last night and when her exams were starting. Then he asked me about their dads, and I filled him in on Dougie and Ralph in a light-hearted way, and then, much more seriously, on the current situation with Wilf. ‘So, you see, when you thought I was a nutjob the other day, there’s been quite a lot going on,’ I finished. He’d been frank with all of us, and it felt right to be candid in return.
‘Sounds like you’ve got enough on to be completely certifiable.’
Bodger yawned as if all this talking was highly boring to dogs. There was a natural pause in the conversation and I waited for him to say he was going. Instead he said, ‘What with having banned me from delivering food to you, would you come out for dinner with me one night instead?’
I wasn’t used to men asking me out; the last time had probably been when fossils were forming, so it did feel very strange. In addition, he was standing in my kitchen. He cocked his head to the side, looking a bit like Bodger when he was desperate for the bone from a roast. It was cute, but I didn’t need cute.
‘Oh, thanks lots but, you know… ummm… no, I can’t.’ It came out more harshly and louder than I’d anticipated, and he stopped looking cute and looked startled instead. I added, ‘That came out wrong,’ but he just stood and raised his eyebrows. ‘Anyway, I know you only said it to be nice to me.’
‘I didn’t, actually,’ he said, looking straight at me until I blushed. ‘But happy to postpone the invite. Keep it on ice. Maybe you’ll wake up one day and just be really starving and say, “Oh, there was that nice bloke down the road who asked me to go out to dinner with him. Now, what with being really hungry, I might go out with him after all.”’
‘No,’ I said, horribly embarrassed now and wanting him out of my kitchen.
He seemed quite laid-back about the whole thing though. ‘Is it because I was a humble delivery driver?’ He hung his head in mock shame.
‘There are several reasons, actually, but that’s not one of them.’ Again, my voice seemed unnecessarily officious.
‘Perhaps madam would be so kind, then, as to give the evidence for the prosecution.’ He smiled on, folding his arms and standing with his back to the kitchen cabinet, blue eyes twinkling.
I refused to be charmed. ‘Reason one is that I have far too much going on at the moment with the kids. As I’ve just told you.’
‘May I put the evidence for the defence?’
‘I suppose so,’ I said.
‘The defence humbly suggests that sometimes it is good to have a distraction from one’s day-to-day difficulties. Sometimes it’s good to have some time out from them, or, alternatively, have someone to discuss them with.’
‘Humph,’ I said and put my hands on my hips. ‘Reason number two, however, is that we are neighbours and likely to remain so.’ I’d taken on his tone of a sham courtroom. ‘Anyway, I can’t bump into you in the street all the time if it works out that the date is a disaster.’
‘May the defence humbly suggest that, as grown adults, we may be able to deal with such an occurrence in a mature manner that would not affect the freedom of our residential status?’ He raised his eyebrows and it was very difficult not to laugh, despite myself. However, he might be a mature adult about stuff like that – I wasn’t sure I was.
‘Reason number three, however,’ I almost barked, ‘is that I’m not in a fit state to go out on a date with anyone. I mean, it’s ages since I went out with someone. I’m concentrating on my kids and my parents and, I mean…’
I was becoming agitated.
‘Hey, no worries,’ he said however, very simply. ‘I get it. No room for a man in your life. I understand, and I won’t hassle you any more.’ His face took on an empathetic look. ‘But maybe we can be friends, huh? I’ve still got quite a lot of bike fixing to do.’ His eyes started twinkling again.
Phew, the difficult conversation was over. ‘Friends is fine – and thanks for helping Wilf.’
‘He’s a great kid; they all are.’ As he went out of the back door, telling me again how awesome my fish pie was, it was difficult not to remember the look of sadness in his eyes as he’d explained how he hadn’t got any of his own.
I went upstairs then, and made Lily put her books down. ‘Fancy a couple of episodes of Casualty or Call the Midwife?’ We sat on the sofa together, cuddled up and she eventually fell asleep.
16
Sunil was like tomato soup after a long cold walk. Like honey and whiskey when you had the flu. Like cold water in the driest desert. He was all these things, but the sexy version.
The parquet-floored entrance hall of the charity centre had a musty smell; corkboards filled with flyers advertised rallies. A corridor led to what was probably once a church hall. Chairs were stacked around the wall and old red curtains hung from the windows, frayed and flapping in the breeze.
I wandered in, only briefly remembering that I still looked like shit and was about to meet a highly attractive man. It didn’t seem the most relevant detail after everything that had been happening; what I needed was his help.
Sunil was in a small room at the back of the hall. He must have heard my footsteps because as I raised my hand to knock on the door, he opened it and a smile of warm greeting appeared on his (seriously quite gorgeous) face.
‘Callie. I’m so glad you could come.’ He ushered me through the door and into a book-lined office, where there were a couple of chairs facing each other. His desk was stacked with piles of paper round a large Apple Mac screen. Old mugs of coffee were spread across the surface. The impression was that he had lots to tackle out there in the big bad world, and no time to concentrate on the minutiae of daily life – like cleaning. ‘Sit down. Sorry about the chaos – there’s been a lot going on.’
‘Thank you so much for making the time to meet me,’ I said, sitting down and feeling flustered, despite everything, to be in such close proximity to such a very beautiful man.
‘Hey, like I said, if there is any advice I can give you, or help or… It’s what we’re all about here. Young people’s causes. Fighting their fight alongside them.’
Here was someone who was on my side. I relaxed a little.
‘Would you like a cup of coffee?’ Sunil continued, looking around him as if this was going to be a bit of a big ask.
‘I’m fine, thank you,’ I said. ‘I took Lily to see the GP and she’s been at school but with the exams starting on Monday, I’m feeling really worried.’
Sunil sat down on his own chair and peered at me from under his thatch of thick hair. He was wearing a dark blue T-shirt, above jeans. ‘I see an awful lot of kids at the moment who are facing into unjustifiable pressure. And Lily – I don’t know her yet, remember – might be one of those children who are unable to accept less than perfection. It’s the system they’ve been brought up in; and the government, bringing in much harder GCSEs, and changing the syllabus all the time, hasn’t helped.’
I nodded eagerly. He knew exactly what my children had been going through.
‘But at the same time, they’ve starved our schools of resources to help our children stay strong in the face of all this pressure. The kind of episode that happened to Lily is something we see more and more of.’
I was no longer alone.
‘She’ll be worried that if she doesn’t spend every hour of every day working on her exams, then if she gets less than a perfect score, she’ll be to blame.’
‘The GP told her to prioritise rest breaks.’
/> ‘Yes, it’s about learning when to switch off as well as when to switch on. We have some sessions scheduled for next week on just that, if you could get her to come along?’
‘Oh, I’ll try really hard. Maybe if Daisy comes too?’ I thought my chances of getting Lily to the centre to build her mental strength were probably a lot higher after the shock of the attack.
‘Daisy’s one hell of a kid,’ Sunil said. ‘Born activist.’ I smiled with the pleasure that all parents got when their kids were praised. ‘And now tell me about your – stepson? Is he your stepson?’
I described how Wilf wasn’t and how that affected what was going on.
Sunil started scrolling through his phone. ‘We’ve got some good pro bono lawyers we can call on, just to get a second opinion? I’ll give one a call later and see if there are any other angles they can think of.’
I nodded gratefully, pulling a tissue from the bottom of my bag. ‘I have got a friendly lawyer if I need one, but he said don’t hold out too much hope,’ I said.
‘Sounds like you’ve been really, really strong, Callie.’ Sunil put out a big arm and just for a moment touched mine, letting his hand rest on my wrist in a gesture of comfort. I felt the warmth of his skin on mine and… then I pulled myself together. I was sitting here because I had teenagers in trouble and his job was to help them.
He wasn’t wearing a wedding ring though; I noticed that.
‘Have you got kids of your own?’ I asked.
‘Ha! No, unfortunately. Married to the job, I’m afraid.’
Single, then? It was hard to stop the thought even as I put it to one side and focused on why I was there. As he leant away, though, there was a smell of him, manly and big and caring… with a hint of soap. There must be a queue of younger women trying to be the one who landed Sunil.
‘You’ve been so wonderful, listening to me.’ I got up and pulled my bag onto my shoulder.