Out of Step

by Maggie Makepeace

  ‘Just getting some firewood in,’ Rob said easily. ‘Won’t be a moment.’

  ‘Me too,’ Rosie said at once.

  ‘Sorry poppet,’ Rob said. ‘No wellies today, remember? And it’s muddy by the woodshed.’

  ‘Oh no! Why?’ Nell asked, vexed that Cassie’s deliberate withholding of boots would mean no possibility of good walks for any of them that week.

  ‘Rosie’s not very well,’ Rob explained as he went out of the back door. ‘There’s the usual pink stuff she’s got to take. I’ve left it in the ‘Rover. Cassie wants her to stay indoors and keep out of the cold.’ Rosie swung her legs, looking smug.

  She’s always ‘ill’, Nell thought. What nonsense. She looks perfectly all right to me. It’s not that cold, anyway, and I’m sure fresh air would perk her up no end. She’s a tough little person, not a hot-house flower.

  Nell wondered as she drained the spaghetti, whether pink medicine was Cassie’s substitute for love. Then Rob came in with an armful of logs just as she was carrying the hot bowl of bolognese sauce to the table and she had to wait until he was out of the way before she could set it down on the mat. She managed it just in time, before the heat penetrated the tired oven glove and burnt her fingers. Josh was already sitting in his place.

  ‘Yuk,’ he said, peering suspiciously at the sauce.

  ‘Yuk nothing! Come on, Rosie.’

  ‘Daddy isn’t thitting down.’

  ‘Well, he’s just about to, aren’t you, Rob?’

  ‘Just washing my hands. Have you two washed yours?’

  ‘No.’

  Nell divided up the spaghetti as fairly as she could on to four dinner plates, while the two children argued over who should have the soap first. Then they squabbled over who had the most food, and then who had been the illest the week before.

  ‘The most ill,’ Rob corrected them. ‘Not the illest.’ Nell wondered why anyone would want to be more ill than the next person. There must surely be better ways of getting attention.

  Then Josh began singing, to the tune of ‘Frère Jacques’, a round he had learnt at school:

  ‘Life is but a, Life is but a,’ he began.

  ‘Collyfl –’ Rosie joined in lustily.

  ‘No!’ interrupted Josh irritably. ‘That’s wrong! You’ve gone and spoilt it. Now I’ll have to start all over again. So shut up this time.’ He continued:

  ‘Life is but a,

  Life is but a,

  Melancholy flower,

  Melancholy flower,

  Life is but a melon,

  Life is but a melon,

  Cauliflower! Cauliflower!’

  ‘I thang that!’ Rosie retorted.

  ‘No you didn’t!’

  ‘Yeth I –’

  ‘That’s enough,’ Nell said. ‘Stop it.’

  ‘Life is but a…’ Josh began again.

  ‘Josh,’ Rob said mildly, ‘no singing at mealtimes, right?’

  ‘Thang that, thang that, thang that…’ Rosie muttered provocatively.

  ‘That means you too, Rosie,’ Nell said. She felt her tummy muscles tighten involuntarily. She had never experienced sibling rivalry herself, and so felt illequipped to deal with it. Rob was little help. He barely seemed to notice, and was now bending over his plate and concentrating on enjoying his lunch. At one point he botched his aim and ended up with only part of a forkful of spaghetti in his mouth. Then he glanced across at her with a rueful expression, and bit off the trailing ends so that they fell back messily on to his plate. Nell realised it was the first time he had actually caught her eye since he had brought the children home for the week.

  ‘Ooooh, Dad!’ Rosie said reprovingly.

  ‘I never bite mine,’ Josh said virtuously. ‘I hoover them. Watch!’ He sucked mightily, so the strands of spaghetti disappeared upwards at speed and were whipped out of sight through rosebud lips, flicking gobbets of sauce far and wide.

  ‘Careful!’ Nell warned him. She wondered whether real parents ever found children as boring as she did … ‘Look!’ she said, hoping to distract them. ‘There’s the hummingbird robin again.’ She pointed to the bird table outside, where a robin was hovering furiously below a bell full of fat, darting up from time to time to snatch a beakful. ‘Robins don’t usually do that,’ she explained. ‘This one seems to have invented a completely new trick.’

  ‘P’raps he caught it off a hummingbird?’ Josh said. He grinned, displaying newly gappy teeth.

  ‘No, we don’t get them here. They only live in the tropics.’

  ‘But you said it was one?’

  ‘Tropicth, hopicth, bopicth, mopicth, thopicth…’ Rosie began.

  ‘Shut up!’ Josh hissed at her.

  Nell sighed. ‘Ice cream for pud?’ she suggested.

  ‘Nell?’ Rosie asked. ‘Will you thtay here for ever and ever?’

  ‘But, how long are they staying?’ Anna demanded. ‘I thought we were having the whole week together.’

  ‘Be reasonable, darling,’ Paul said. ‘I’ll only be gone for a few hours. I can’t just abandon my boys, can I? Especially when their mother is in such an emotional state.’

  ‘So why isn’t she hamming it up in London with her flashy actor? Couldn’t he cope with children? That type never can – too selfish.’

  ‘Oh, didn’t I tell you?’ Paul said casually. ‘That’s all off.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘I knew it wouldn’t last.’ Paul looked pleased with himself.

  ‘But… you are going to …?’

  ‘Oh, we’re still getting divorced, yes.’

  ‘But… doesn’t she want you back?’

  ‘Very probably, but it’s too late now.’

  ‘I’d better go and see her,’ Anna said, making up her mind. ‘We need to talk.’

  ‘Absolutely not!’ Paul said. ‘Don’t interfere, Anna. This is nothing to do with you. I’m serious, right?’

  ‘Ooooh, isn’t he masterful!’ Anna mocked, high camp.

  ‘I know,’ Paul smiled, ‘I’m so handsome when I’m angry.’

  Anna put both arms around his neck. ‘Kiss me goodbye, then. Mmm.’

  Paul broke away from her with some difficulty. ‘Nice try,’ he said, kissing her forehead. ‘I’m sorely tempted, but I really do have to go.’

  ‘I expect you were glad to get away,’ Sibyl suggested the following Monday morning at ARTFULL.

  ‘Too right,’ Nell said. ‘I’ve come to work for a rest.’

  ‘It’s been very difficult?’

  ‘At times, yes. It’s so disconcerting though. The children fight all the time, and they’re badly behaved and negative and horrible and then, just when you’re despairing of them, they come up with something lovely which completely disarms you.’

  ‘Instinctive self-preservation,’ Sibyl smiled, ‘evolved over millennia so that parents stop just short of murder!’

  ‘Survival by brinkmanship,’ Nell agreed. ‘It certainly works. I just wish it didn’t have to be so exhausting. Actually, I wish I was more like Elly. She manages Will and Sam almost effortlessly, it seems to me.’

  ‘Well, of course up to now they’ve had a much more stable upbringing,’ Sibyl said soberly. ‘To tell you the truth, I’m a bit worried about Elly.’ She stopped to serve a customer with some sheets of mounting board, and to give advice about getting oval frames with bevelled edges cut in them.

  ‘I’m worried too,’ Nell said, when there was an opportunity. ‘She’s always been impulsive, but now she seems slightly…’

  ‘Hysterical?’

  ‘Yes, that’s it. What d’you think she’ll do?’

  ‘I doubt whether she’ll stay long at the houseboat after half term.’

  ‘Me neither. No, what I really meant was, what will she do for a job?’

  ‘Oh, I expect she’ll be all right,’ Sibyl said, pushing a wisp of hair back, ‘in the long run. She’s had crises before. She’s very resourceful, after all. And how about you, Nell? Will you be OK?’

>   ‘Me?’ Nell asked, pulling herself together. ‘Heavens, yes. Life couldn’t be better for me now I’ve got Rob. We just seem to belong together – it’s amazing. You know, I really do believe I’ve fallen on my feet this time.’

  Chapter Eighteen

  Josh stood upright amongst the groceries in the supermarket trolley and held out his hand for the change.

  ‘Me too. Me too!’ Rosie demanded, twisting round from her position in the baby seat.

  The checkout lady smiled, and handed them half each. ‘There you go,’ she said. ‘Now you can give it to your mummy and she can put it in her purse.’ Nell held out her hand, smiling too.

  ‘She’s not my mummy,’ Josh said loudly. ‘She’s just one of daddy’s friends.’ Nell looked quickly away.

  ‘Come on,’ Rob said, ‘let’s have it – and yours, Rosie – and stop jiggling about, Josh. You’ll break the eggs.’ He pushed the trolley out of the aisle towards the exit. Nell followed feeling foolishly that the checkout lady must be following her every movement with a knowing look. She wanted Rob to reprimand Josh on her behalf, but the rational part of her thought: What for? You can’t expect tact from a six-year-old.

  She remembered her grandmother always used to say, Who’s she? The cat’s mother? in such circumstances, and Nell remembered being quelled by it, but had to admit that in Josh’s case it was unlikely to work. She made a face at the thought, and caught up with Rob as they emerged into the car park. He didn’t seem to have noticed her discomfiture.

  ‘Right,’ he said, ‘we’ll just load this little lot, and then it’s off to the houseboat for lunch with Will and Sam and Elly.’

  ‘When are we going home?’ Josh asked.

  ‘After lunch.’

  ‘No, I mean real home, to Mum’s?’

  ‘Tomorrow evening.’

  ‘Why can’t we go today?’

  Yes, please! Nell pleaded silently.

  ‘Your mum might be away. I don’t know.’

  ‘Well, you could phone her.’

  ‘We’ll see,’ Rob said. ‘Come on, all aboard the Skylark. Let’s get you strapped in, Rosie.’

  They drove the ten miles from Boxcombe in relative peace. Rosie even nodded off briefly. Nell wanted to talk to Rob about Elly’s problems, but couldn’t because of Josh’s alert presence. When the children are with us, she thought, I feel as though my life is on hold. I’m not myself. I’m a sort of pretend ‘responsible adult’; acting a part. I suppose I’ll get used to it.

  They turned downhill through the Thrushton Hall parkland, through the open gate at the bottom, and bumped over the high stone bridge at the top of the estuary. The tide was well out, and the smell of stranded debris and exposed weed was heavy on the cold air.

  ‘Look,’ Nell said without thinking, ‘you could do a mud walk from here all the way to Eely Isle.’

  ‘Ooooh, could we?’ Josh looked enthusiastic for the first time that week.

  ‘No, I didn’t mean it literally,’ Nell said, cross with herself.

  ‘Just a figure of speech,’ Rob explained. ‘Come on.’

  ‘But you said we could.’

  ‘Come on.’

  ‘But why can’t we ever do what I want?’

  That’s rich, Nell thought, since that’s exactly what Rob’s been doing with you all week!

  On the boat and with other people in charge, Nell began to relax. Elly’s boys were sensible enough, and a calming influence on Rob’s two. Will organised Josh and Sam into a game at the far end of the cabin, and Rob sat at the table with Rosie, drawing pictures. Nell joined Elly in the small galley, glad of the opportunity to talk to another adult without interruption.

  ‘How’s it going?’ Elly asked, making sandwiches.

  Nell screwed up her face. ‘It’s hard work, I have to say, and it’s not very rewarding either.’

  ‘They’re basically nice kids though?’

  ‘Yes, of course.’ Loyalty to Rob demanded this.

  ‘How are the sleeping arrangements?’

  ‘Oh, why not stop prevaricating, and get straight to the point?’ Nell gave her an old-fashioned look.

  ‘OK, are you going to try for a baby?’ Elly grinned.

  ‘For God’s sake!’ Nell protested. ‘A child is the last thing I want just at the moment.’ Elly raised her eyebrows. ‘If you must know,’ Nell said, ‘I’m on the pill again, but we’ve gone back to separate beds whilst the children are with us.’

  ‘Why? They have to know sooner or later.’

  ‘Yes, but if they know, then so will Cassie.’

  ‘Does that matter?’

  ‘Oh, it would just be another stick for her to beat Rob with. But it’s actually more than that. Everything we do gets relayed back to her, and I really don’t want her to know anything at all about our life together. You can’t believe how undermining such a lack of privacy is.’

  ‘But she must suspect anyway.’

  ‘That’s fine. It’s not the same as knowing.’ Nell sensed that Elly didn’t understand what she meant. She didn’t know anyone who did, and it was a very isolating feeling. ‘Anyway, how are you coping?’ she asked.

  ‘I’m fine when the boys are here, and desperate when they’re not. But I’m hoping to be able to hang on to the London house now. It seems that Uncle Tozer’s treasures were worth more than we’d thought.’

  ‘That’s good. But where will Paul go?’

  ‘He can go and live with his tart for all I care! What sort of a house does she have?’

  ‘I think it’s a flat, but I’ve never been there. We only meet at swimming.’

  ‘Do you still?’

  ‘Not since before Christmas. I wouldn’t know what to say to her now.’

  ‘Oh, that’s a shame. I was hoping you’d be able to keep me up to speed on what’s going on.’

  ‘Well, I was intending to swim again next week…’ Nell said doubtfully.

  ‘Good! You can pump her for information for me.’

  ‘She probably won’t speak at all. She knows you and I are close friends now.’

  ‘Well, if she does, you can mislead her accidentally on purpose, can’t you?’ Elly grinned wickedly. ‘I do like a good intrigue.’

  ‘Mmm … This soup seems to be boiling. Shall I turn it down?’

  At lunch, Nell saw that Will and Sam’s table manners were noticeably better than Josh and Rosie’s, and wondered why Cassie – or Rob for that matter – hadn’t taught them how to behave properly.

  ‘In the summer,’ Will said, cutting an apple into quarters and removing the core with some dexterity, ‘we eat lunch on deck and throw these bits in the river.’

  ‘Biodegradable,’ Elly murmured.

  ‘We can do that now,’ Josh said eagerly.

  ‘Too cold today,’ Rob said.

  ‘And the tide’s out,’ Sam put in.

  ‘Looks messy,’ Elly explained.

  ‘This mud underneath us is hundreds of metres deep,’ Sam announced proudly.

  ‘No it isn’t,’ Will corrected him. ‘It’s just deep enough to drown you and fill all your lungs up with thick brown goo, so you choke to de –’

  ‘Stop it, Will!’ Elly protested good-humouredly. ‘We don’t want to know. We’re trying to eat our lunch.’

  The thought made Nell shiver involuntarily, and wonder whether in fact this was a safe place for children at all.

  After lunch they played snap with Rosie and Rob working together, and fierce competition between Elly and Will. The stove pumped out heat, the windows steamed up, the daylight began to fade early, and Nell – released from responsibility – began to enjoy herself and wonder why she had been so up-tight before.

  Rob looked at his watch. ‘Well,’ he said, ‘I suppose we’d best be going home. Can we help with the washingup first?’

  ‘No, no,’ Elly said automatically. ‘That’s all right. What d’you want, Josh?’ He had pushed past her into the galley.

  ‘These,’ he said, grabbing something.
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br />   ‘Come on then,’ Nell said reluctantly. ‘Coats on, and let’s be off.’

  Josh struggled into his, keeping one fist tightly closed and trying to stuff it like that down the arm of his anorak. It finally went with a rush, and Nell zipped him up. Rob did Rosie, and the four of them emerged on to the deck, their breath condensing in clouds in the frosty air. Josh made a sudden dive for the front of the boat, running as fast as he could away from the gangplank towards the bows.

  Nell was gripped by a sudden horror. ‘Josh!’ she screamed, ‘Stop!’

  ‘Oh, Cassie, don’t be so melodramatic,’ Rob muttered, embarrassed.

  Josh skidded to a halt by the bow rail, and threw a handful of apple peelings overboard. Then he came back, looking pleased with himself. Nell put her hand to her mouth, breathing hard.

  Elly came up on deck looking startled. ‘What’s up?’

  Nell shook her head. Rob said nothing.

  ‘Well, thanks for coming,’ Elly said cheerfully. ‘We enjoyed having you, didn’t we, boys?’

  ‘Yeah,’ Will said, putting his head out briefly.

  ‘Not!’ said Sam cheekily from below.

  Both Josh and Rosie fell asleep on the way back to the cottage, but Nell and Rob drove in silence, Nell containing herself with difficulty until much later that evening, when the children had gone to bed and were reliably dead to the world. Then she confronted him.

  ‘You called me Cassie!’

  ‘I did? When?’

  ‘On the houseboat, when Josh ran –’

  ‘Oh, then. Well, it was probably because you were behaving like her.’

  ‘What d’you mean?’ Nell was outraged.

  ‘Being absurdly overprotective. There was no need to shout at him like that, was there? He was perfectly safe.’

  ‘Gav!’ Mic shouted. ‘C’mon, hurry up in there or we’ll be late down the doctor’s.’

  She looked out of the window of her new flat to check on the weather. No one in the pedestrian precinct below had umbrellas up, so it wasn’t raining. Mic’s eyes lingered on the scene below her, taking in Woolworth’s, the building society, the burger bar and W. H. Smith. It was all so gobsmackingly handy! She couldn’t get over it. From the launderette below them to the papershop (for fags) two doors up, she had everything she could possibly want within hobbling distance. I can stay here till I’m ninety and totally crippled, she thought, and I’ll still be able to manage on my own.