‘God, Tom Brooker’s actually done us proud,’ said Marianne, as she stood on the steps of the Sunshine Trust posing for a group photo with Cat, Pippa and all the mums taking part in the demo, plus lots of the kids who attended the centre.
Not only were Shropshire TV there, thanks to Tom Brooker’s impassioned piece in The Times the previous weekend, the story had made the nationals. As soon as the photos were over, Pippa and the woman who ran the Sunshine Trust were being besieged by an army of TV and print reporters alike. The story was much bigger than they could have imagined.
‘And even Len Franklin’s interested,’ said Cat. ‘Turns out, he’s really good mates with Antoine Lavière.’ (A famous award-winning chef, well known for his passionate support of children’s charities.) ‘Thanks to Len, Antoine’s going to give us a donation and is offering to compere our charity auction.’
‘Wow, that’s brilliant,’ said Marianne. ‘I feel rather pathetic; I’ve contributed bugger all to this.’
‘Don’t be daft,’ said Cat. ‘You’ve done loads, plus you give Pippa regular support, and you’re here aren’t you? Demos wouldn’t be any good without demonstrators.’
Pippa had started up a chant of ‘What do we want? Respite care! When do we want it? Now!’ for the benefit of the TV cameras, so Marianne and Cat joined in enthusiastically.
‘I hope this makes a difference,’ said Marianne. ‘I can’t see how Pippa will manage if it doesn’t.’
‘Me too,’ said Cat. ‘At least we’ve got people’s interest. That’s a good start.’
The demo was beginning to die down a bit, and the twins were beginning to play up, so Marianne dashed over to Pippa. ‘Do you mind if I head off now? The twins are getting a bit grumpy.’
‘No worries,’ said Pippa, giving her a hug. ‘Thanks so much for coming.’
Marianne put the twins in the car and got in and drove home. As she pulled up into the farmyard, she caught a glimpse of someone in the lane.
‘Oh hi, Mel,’ she said, recognising Cat’s daughter.
Mel’s face was blotchy and red as if she’d been crying.
‘Are you okay?’
‘I’m fine,’ said Mel. But she so patently wasn’t, Marianne said, ‘You look like you could do with a cup of tea and a chat.’
Mel looked as if she was going to say no, and then her resolve crumbled.
‘Come on and sit down,’ said Marianne, taking her into the kitchen. ‘Can I get you a cup of tea?’
‘Could I have hot chocolate?’
Mel looked so young and vulnerable. Too young to be a mum. Poor poor thing.
‘You do know your mother is worried sick about you, don’t you?’ Marianne said carefully, as she sat down at the table.
Cat had told her only that morning that although Mel had come home for the funeral, she was still determinedly camping out at Karen’s.
‘I’m at my wit’s end,’ Cat had said. ‘I thought yesterday I’d made a breakthrough, but she went straight back to Karen’s afterwards. I just don’t know what to do.’
‘No she’s not, she doesn’t care,’ said Mel.
‘Of course she cares,’ said Marianne. ‘She’s your mum. It’s her job. She’s just had a lot on her plate, and no mum wants her teenage daughter to be pregnant.’
‘Well it’s not like I planned it,’ said Mel defiantly.
‘So go on, then. Spill the beans. What happened?’ said Marianne.
It was like a floodgate opening. Mel poured the whole story out, how Andy had chased after her, how she’d been frightened of losing him, and now, ‘He doesn’t want to know,’ she wailed. ‘I’ve just been to see him, and he keeps saying he doesn’t even know if the baby is his. How can he say that?’
‘Because he’s a bastard?’ said Marianne.
‘I thought he loved me,’ wailed Mel.
‘And you wouldn’t be the first,’ said Marianne. ‘Have you thought about not having it?’
‘It’s too late for that,’ said Mel. ‘Karen’s mum took me to the doctor’s last week and I’m nearly twenty weeks. I couldn’t get rid of it now. And I’m not sure I want to anyway.’
‘Do your parents know any of this?’ said Marianne.
‘No, I haven’t told them,’ said Mel. ‘I don’t think they’d understand. And I’m worried what Dad might do to Andy.’
‘Oh come on, Mel, this isn’t the dark ages,’ laughed Marianne. ‘I really think you should tell them what you’ve told me. They’re your parents and they want to help, even if it doesn’t seem like it right now. You should go home. It’s not fair on your mum or your dad.’
‘I’ll think about it,’ said Mel.
‘And Mel,’ Marianne added, ‘it’s not right. You shouldn’t be seeing the doctor with Karen’s mum. This may not be what your mum wants, but I’m damn sure she’d want to take you to the doctor herself.’
Pippa got in from the demonstration, feeling a huge sense of satisfaction. She had begun to feel a little bit of hope, that maybe they would actually do this. Maybe they could save the respite services. She’d deliberately left the boys at home with Dan. They did so much for their little sister on a daily basis, Pippa felt they needed a break. She walked into the lounge where she expected to find them where she’d left them, watching the cricket, but they weren’t there.
‘Hullo, anyone in?’ She wheeled Lucy into the lounge and helped her into her special chair. ‘Things are looking up, Luce. We might just be able to keep the Sunshine Trust respite services after all.’
Lucy clicked her approval.
That’s good, she typed. I’d hate to have to spend every weekend here.
Pippa laughed. Lucy’s sense of humour was what kept her going some days.
The house was deadly quiet, and Pippa felt a sudden sense of foreboding. Where was everyone? She went upstairs calling for the boys, and Dan, to no avail. She went back into the lounge, and turned on the telly for Lucy.
‘I’m just popping outside for a minute, sweetie,’ she said. Maybe Dan had taken the boys out to play footie or something. Although he had barely kicked a ball since his accident, so it wasn’t terribly likely. Pippa went out into the courtyard. The Land Rover was still there. No sign of anyone. Odd. She walked across the courtyard, and wandered towards the barn at the far end, shouting the boys’ names. Barney, their dog, ran out barking wildly. He seemed determined to show her something, so she followed him to the barn door. She opened the door, and peered into the gloom.
‘Mum, is that you?’ Nathan peered over the hayloft. He looked pale and frightened, his dark hair even more messed up than usual. George followed quickly behind, covered in straw, and they flew down the ladder and fell into her arms, talking nineteen to the dozen.
‘Dad went ballistic because the TV remote didn’t work, then he told Nate off when he tried to help. So I said that wasn’t fair, and then he really shouted at us,’ said George.
‘It was horrible,’ said Nathan, ‘he told us to get out or else. I thought he was going to hit us, so we ran off and hid.’
‘Is Dad going to be okay?’ said George, and she could see the tear streaks he’d tried to wipe away from his face. ‘He really frightened me.’
‘Oh boys,’ said Pippa, holding them close and kissing them hard. ‘I don’t know. I just don’t know.’ She could have lied she supposed, but what was the point? The boys could see things were as bad as they could possibly be. Lying to them would mean they couldn’t trust her, and they needed to be able to right now. She crouched down and looked them both in the eyes. ‘The thing is, Daddy’s really not well. You must understand this isn’t his fault, none of it. He doesn’t want to frighten you, he just can’t help it.’
She kissed and hugged them both again.
‘Now go inside, and get yourselves and Lucy ice cream. I’m going to find Dad and sort this out once and for all.’
It didn’t take long to find Dan, because she knew exactly where he’d be. He was sitting at the edge of their meadow, staring
at the stream. It was the place they’d picnicked all of their married lives, the place where, fifteen years ago, he’d asked her to marry him. And she’d said yes, her knight in shining armour. The one person she’d known she could always rely on. And now she could rely on him no longer.
‘Hi,’ she said.
‘Hi,’ Dan turned his face away from her. She went and sat down next to him.
‘You know we can’t go on like this, don’t you?’ she said, reaching over to touch his hand.
‘I know,’ Dan croaked, turning to face her, his face wet with tears.
‘You have to understand,’ said Pippa. ‘The children come first. They have to.’
‘I know,’ said Dan again.
‘Today …’
‘I could have hurt the boys,’ whispered Dan. ‘I didn’t want to, but I could have. It’s this black rage. It comes from nowhere and I can’t control it.’
‘You need help,’ said Pippa. ‘And I can’t give you that help and manage the children, especially Lucy.’
‘Oh Pippa, what’s happened to us?’ said Dan.
‘I don’t know,’ said Pippa sadly, and held his hands. For the first time, she couldn’t bring herself to say it.
‘We’re not going to get through this, are we?’ Dan looked exhausted and wrung out.
‘I don’t know…’ replied Pippa helplessly.
‘I’ll move back in with Mum and Dad,’ said Dan.
‘That seems best,’ said Pippa. She pulled him close to her, wanting him to stay, knowing she had to let him go, feeling her heart being wrenched in two.
It wasn’t going to get better. Not this time. Not ever.
Mel
FACEBOOK status So fucked
Jake: So it’s true then?
Jen17: ??
Ellie: You ok?
Nick: Slag
Kaz: Oh so grown up Nick. Leave her alone
Mel: It’s okay Kaz. Piss off Nick. You know fuck all about it.
Nick: Oh get over yourself.
Mel: You get over yourself.
Nick: You’re still a fat pregnant slag.
Mel: OK, blocking you.
Kaz: You okay?
Mel: Not really.
Teenage Kicks
So now it’s official. EVERYONE knows. I’ve had a lot of crap on FB and BBM, but they can go screw themselves. I know I’m not a slag. Even if the Boy thinks I am. It was only ever him. I know that even if no one else does.
Best Mate’s been brilliant. She’s letting me crash at hers. I can’t face being home.
Dad came round and begged me to come back for Mad Gran’s funeral. He cried. Said they both missed me.
So I went and it was sad, and I cried and cried. And it was okay with Mum for a bit. But then I remembered the stuff she’d said, so I knew I couldn’t stay there.
So now I’m in limbo. At Best Mate’s house. Going to school, studying for AS levels, like they’re going to matter.
Half the year aren’t talking to me. The teachers keep on at me to go to counselling, but I don’t go.
And the Boy is badmouthing me. Telling everyone that I’ve been putting it out there. That the baby’s not his. Why is he being like this? I thought he loved me.
I went to see him and he laughed at me. I guess it really is over.
I went to see one of Mum’s mates after. She told me I should go home.
Maybe I should.
I feel so scared and alone.
I just don’t know what to do.
Part Four
A Merry Little Christmas
October
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Pippa was giving another interview on phone to the papers, this time talking about the effects that government spending cuts were having on local disability services. There were so many people suffering, so many people worse off than her. Knowing she was helping them was the only way she kept going. She blinked back tears as the interview ended and she put the phone down and stared at the kitchen, once the heart and soul of her home. She and Dan had spent so much time in this kitchen together, sharing tea and sympathy, love and laughter. The kitchen hadn’t changed: still with the familiar range, the cosiness, the knick-knacks on the shelves. But it all seemed so empty without Dan.
Pippa had got used to him being around all the time since his accident, and even before that he’d been in and out all day long. Now she barely saw him. At least he was back working on the farm, which was something, but he did his best to avoid her, spending more time with Gabriel and Marianne than he did at home. She knew from Dan’s mum that he had finally started therapy, and she was happy to drop the children with him, knowing his mum was there to supervise.
The boys had been reluctant to go at first, but they missed their dad too, and seeing him cry and break down in front of them had persuaded them to give him another chance. It broke Pippa’s heart that it had come to this; her loving, caring Dan, and his own children were afraid of him. Their once-happy family was broken and fractured. She didn’t know if it would ever be mended again.
This was no good.
‘Pull yourself together, Pippa,’ she said. ‘Focus.’
She started to look at the seating arrangements for the charity ball. Cat had been able to persuade Antoine Lavière to be the compere for the charity auction, and had also been generous with prizes, giving away signed copies of her latest book and DVD, and offering another prize of a day on set with her for her next series, whatever that was.
Marianne, in the meantime, had reluctantly joined forces with Diana Carew and they’d both been busy working on all the local businesses and had come up with two weekend retreats at a couple of local hotels, a spa day for two and a year’s free membership at a local gym. Not only that, she’d managed to persuade Eve’s rich boyfriend Darren to use some of the charity funds in his office to pay for the champagne reception.
In the blind charity auction, Vera and Albert had managed to get hold of a signed copy of the England rugby team’s photo and a signed Team GB flag for sporting fans, along with several bottles of very decent and old malt whisky from the firm Albert’s brother worked in, a day racing at Silverstone, and some rather lovely prints from a local artist, Ivy Theakston. They were apparently still ‘working on a few more sources’, as Vera earnestly put it. The tables had nearly all sold now and it was beginning to look like a fun evening. As promised, Michael Nicholas’ band, The Dark Angels, were going to play on the night. Pippa had enjoyed hearing them play at the Hopesay Arms. They’d certainly make the evening go with a swing.
And she’d had a couple of really useful meetings with Richard La Fontaine, the businessman Michael had introduced her to, who was friendly and interested and seemed genuinely willing to help. She was hoping that he could persuade his company to look at seriously investing in the Sunshine Trust, as it was something he felt very strongly about.
‘I have a special needs daughter too,’ he had told her on their first meeting at Michael’s bar, where he’d insisted on paying for lunch. ‘I know how tough it is.’
He hadn’t volunteered any more information, but she’d felt an immediate connection with him, and found herself looking forward to their next meeting. He was like a breath of fresh air, breathing new life into her world, and she found herself momentarily fantasising about him. She felt guilty for thinking about another man, with Dan away from home, but it was nice to fantasise about living a different kind of existence, with someone else, and without the daily drudgery and hardship of her actual life. A tear spilt down her cheek. How could she think like that? She scolded herself. She loved Lucy and the boys. She still loved Dan. She would always love Dan. But sometimes she wished beyond anything for her life to be very different.
‘Hey Mazza!’ Marianne laughed as she opened the door and her irrepressible younger brother bounced in, flinging his arms around her. He was the only person who had ever called her that. En route with Marcus to the Lake District, he’d suddenly called up and said they were passi
ng and were she and Gabriel free? As it happened, it was a weekend that Steven was spending with Eve and Gabriel was busy tupping the ewes so he wasn’t going to be around much. Marianne had seen precious little of her brother since coming up to Hope Christmas four years ago, so she was delighted to see him now.
‘Come on in,’ she said. ‘Look Daisy, Harry; here are Uncle Matt and Uncle Marcus come to see us. And, when you’re older I’ll explain why you have two uncles.’
‘Oi, less of that, sis,’ said Matt, playfully punching her.
‘Sorry, couldn’t resist,’ said Marianne.
The twins, who had just turned two, were still quite shy of strangers, so peered at their two strange uncles from between their mother’s legs.
‘Crikey, they’ve grown,’ said Matt.
‘Yeah, well, if you will only deign to visit once in a blue moon,’ said Marianne, ‘it’s not like I haven’t asked you before.’
‘You know I’m busy,’ pleaded her brother. ‘Anyway, you’re not much better. You’ve not been to London since Christmas.’
‘True,’ said Marianne, ‘but you could have come on holiday with us. We did invite you.’
‘And have Mum asking me every five minutes when I’m getting married? Yeah, right.’
‘You could always tell her you are getting married,’ said Marianne mischievously.
‘Don’t,’ shuddered Matt. ‘We’ve just been through all that with Marcus’ family. I’m not sure I could ever cope with telling Mum.’
Marianne laughed. ‘So you’re not going to join us for Christmas then? We’re having open house if you’re interested.’
‘Hmm, maybe we’ll have a rain check on that,’ said Matt. Although Marcus said wistfully, ‘I’ve always fancied Christmas in the country. Does it ever snow?’
‘Quite often,’ said Marianne. ‘And it is lovely up here. There’s a nativity on Christmas Eve at the chapel in the local manor house, organised by my good self, and there’s a tree in the square and carols at midnight. I love it.’
A Merry Little Christmas Page 23