by Janey Fraser
‘I am. I am. Sorry, Mrs Bottom. I mean Botting. I wasn’t talking to you. No, please don’t go! I’ve almost finished. All I need to know is how long it is since you and your husband had …’
Too late. ‘Since you and your husband had a flu jab,’ muttered Bobbie down the dead line (she’d had to use Vanessa’s phone as she didn’t get much reception in here). Blast! Thanks to the kids, she’d lost another one! And she still had twenty-two more to do before Friday.
‘YOU WEREN’T LOOKING!’ Daisy had whipped off the hat and now donned another. It was a huge black one with netting that completely hid her daughter’s face. Perfect for a funeral. She spoke in a Dalek voice. ‘WHAT … ABOUT … THIS … ONE?’
Bobbie wished she had time to giggle.
Enjoy your children, the perfect-parenting guide had informed her in the bath last night (one of the few places she could read in peace). Try to take time out every day to give them your full attention. See it as a pleasure, not a chore! They grow up so fast that before you know it, they’ll be adults and you’ll never, ever, get that time again.
Talk about trying to make you feel guilty.
‘Only someone whose own kids have already grown up could write that,’ Vanessa had commented quietly when Bobbie had shown her the offending paragraph this morning, before dashing off to the station.
Sometimes, Bobbie got the impression that Vanessa hadn’t had an easy time of it when her daughter was at home. Or indeed now. It was certainly a strange business; Sunshine being deposited on her grandmother’s doorstep like that. This rushing off to London on ‘business’ – as well as all that other time off – suggested things weren’t quite right. But Bobbie didn’t like to pry. It wasn’t as though Vanessa was a best friend like Sarah.
‘MUM, MUM!’
‘Very nice.’ Bobbie glanced up quickly. This time, Daisy was sporting a boater with a blue and white band round it. Where was she getting all these hats from? They were on the top shelf at the back of the shop above the size 18s.
Oh no.
‘JACK!’ Leaping up from her desk, she dashed across to her son who was leaning down perilously, handing the next little fashion number to his sister. ‘You’re going to fall. Hold my hand!’
‘No. I like it up here.’
Try not to raise your voice at the children, no matter how difficult the situation. The parenting handbook’s words drifted into her head.
‘I SAID GET DOWN.’
And never, ever use words that you might regret.
‘PLEASE!’
Jack shook his head. ‘Can’t. I’m stuck!’
Oh God. It was the phone again. ‘Doesn’t it bloody well stop?’ she groaned.
‘Mum!’ gasped Daisy delightedly. ‘You said the “b” word. And I can smell Pongo! It’s you that’s farted this time, isn’t it?’
That’s what happened when you’d had two kids and were under stress! She was busting for the loo, too! And the phone was still ringing. ‘Answer it, will you?’ she yelled, trying to help her son down.
‘Only if you say “Please!” in Mandarin! Remember? It was in my vocab last week.’
‘GET THE BLOODY PHONE!’
‘Don’t be rude, Mum.’
‘HELP!’
‘Jack!’
‘It’s Mrs Bottom,’ Daisy called out imperiously. ‘She had to answer the door but now she can do your survey if you want.’
‘Tell her I’ll … oh NO!’
Bobbie gasped with horror as Jack leaped from the top shelf. He was writhing on the floor now, clutching his ankle and yelling. Writhing in agony? Or writhing for effect? It was hard to tell with her son.
‘MUM! Mrs Bottom’s waiting!’
Bugger!
‘I seem to have come at rather a bad moment!’ A young, pretty woman with a double buggy hovered at the door. Bobbie recognised her from school. It was Gemma Balls, the primary head’s wife. How much had she heard?
‘Please, come in.’ Bobbie had to raise her voice above Jack’s yelling. It had moved down several decibels now which indicated that he was seeking attention rather than being mortally wounded.
‘Hi.’ Gemma knelt down beside him. ‘My older boy is always jumping off things too. He’s with his godmother this week otherwise he’d be tearing around like a bluebottle! Are you all right, Jack?’
So she knew his name! Then again, didn’t everyone at Corrywood?
Her son sniffed. ‘Sort of.’
‘Does this hurt? No? That’s good. And can you bend it this way? And that? Great.’ Gemma looked up. She had a lovely smile! Just the kind Bobbie would like to have. Had had until she’d lost her sanity. ‘Hope you don’t mind but I’ve just done a first-aid course.’
‘You have three kids and you have time to go on courses?’ gasped Bobbie.
Gemma laughed. ‘I need to keep up during my career break. Besides, it’s one of the plusses about being married to a teacher. He’s around in the holidays.’
Bobbie thought of Rob, who had hurried off to yet another conference. She wouldn’t mind doing the same. Nice hotel bed. Unused bar of soap. Mini-bar. No one yelling at you. Someone else putting food in front of you. Heaven!
‘Now let’s see if you can stand up, Jack,’ continued Gemma brightly. ‘Can you walk?’
Looked like it. He could also run. Straight into his sister.
‘HE’S HURT ME, MUM! HE’S HURT ME!’
What would Gemma Balls think? But she was laughing. ‘You should hear our lot when they get going.’ She glanced down at the buggy where a toddler and a baby were both fast asleep, thumbs in mouths. ‘Mind if I leave them by the desk while I take a look?’ She headed for the size-12 rails. ‘I need something for my best friend’s wedding. It’s going to be rather smart. Lots of celebrities will be there. She’s a singer, you know! We’re terribly proud of her.’
Bobbie sprang into work mode. Already she was discovering that she had a flair for picking out the right colours and styles to suit customers. Just before Jack had got stuck and then the phone had gone, she had …
Oh my God! The phone! She dived past the buggy and grabbed the phone. ‘Mrs Botting? Are you still there? I’m so sorry to have kept you waiting. Yes, it does sound like a zoo.’ She sat down heavily. ‘To be honest, it’s half-term and I’m trying to work at the same time. Well, do two jobs actually. Thank you. It isn’t easy. You’ve got lots of bored friends who would like to answer my questions? That’s wonderful!’
Things were definitely looking up! By the end of the afternoon, Bobbie had several ticks on her survey list and she’d sold four outfits, including a lovely pink and grey one to Gemma Balls who was, she’d decided, absolutely delightful.
‘I think your children are fantastic,’ the young mum had said with a wink as she’d handed over her credit card. ‘Jack’s a real character and Daisy is so grown up, isn’t she?’ A rather wistful look came into her eyes. ‘I’d love a little girl one day.’
She was lucky, Bobbie told herself. Wasn’t that what the parenting book had said, more or less? Enjoy them. Perhaps it had a point after all. Meanwhile, there was just time to tidy up the rails before they went home.
‘What about these, Mummy?’ Daisy pointed to a large bag of waiting-to-be-looked-at stock under the desk. ‘Didn’t Vanessa ask you to go through those and see which ones might sell?’
She had too! Bobbie had felt quite flattered that Vanessa trusted her. ‘Would you like to help me?’
Daisy’s eyes lit up. ‘Cool!’
Find things to do together. That was another thing they’d been talking about in parenting class. And no, Judith Davies had said swiftly, arguing didn’t count.
‘What about this one?’
Daisy cast her eye on the orange pair of trousers and frowned. ‘No way, Mum.’
On second thoughts, she was right. Kids often were, unfortunately.
‘Look!’ Daisy was examining an elegant pair of cream trousers. Now they were really beautiful. Bobbie stroked the fabric, as
tonished that someone didn’t want them. If only she could squeeze into them herself! But after the kids, she’d got stuck between a 12 and a 14.
‘They’re Auntie Pamela’s,’ announced her daughter.
‘Really?’
‘Don’t you remember, Mum? She wore them last Christmas and Jack spilt wine on them. Look, here’s the pink stain. It’s very faint but you can still see it.’
Her daughter had eyes like a hawk! Bobbie wavered. Vanessa was adamant about not having soiled stock in her shop but maybe she’d make an exception for these trousers. After all, if you didn’t know the stain was there, you might not notice it. She’d give them a chance! Better go through the pockets first, though, as Vanessa had taught her. Mind you, Pamela was organised. Not the kind of person who would leave something behind.
Gosh! What was this? Bobbie stared at the piece of paper in her hands before tucking it away in her bag. She hadn’t expected that!
‘JACK!’ Daisy bellowed. ‘JACK, GET OUT!’
Not again. Her son was strutting around the window display in a long dress with that big black hat over his head, revelling in the attention from the open-mouthed crowd gathering outside.
‘If you get out,’ hissed Bobbie, ‘I’ll buy you a skateboard.’
Her son stopped. ‘Promise?’
‘Promise.’
Sometimes bribery was the only way. Even if she was meant to be saving money.
It took ages to calm down the kids that evening.
‘Get off your skateboard, Jack! It’s not for inside. And have you cleaned your teeth?’
‘No he hasn’t!’ Daisy sounded like a mother herself. ‘Did you know that when a crocodile loses his, he just grows them back again?’
Fascinating. But not just now. Eventually, Bobbie managed to coax them into bed, before pouring herself a glass of wine – just one! – and putting her legs up on the sofa. She was dying to tell her husband about the receipt in his sister’s pocket but Rob’s phone was still off. Surely he could make time during this team-talk conference thing in Northumberland to contact his family?
Suddenly Bobbie had an overwhelming desire to talk to her mother. Tell her about her day and how much she’d enjoyed the shop. Tell her too about that other thing that she didn’t even dare voice in her own head.
‘Hello. This is Phyllis! Sorry I’m not here!’
Bobbie waited for the greeting to end before adding her message. ‘Mum, it’s me. Hope you’re having a good time. Just rang for a chat. Bye!’
Purposefully, Bobbie made her voice sound bright. She might not approve of Dr Know but as Vanessa said the other day, children didn’t have a right to dictate who their parents fell in love with. Besides, what if (this was another of Vanessa’s ideas) that tough-guy approach was just a cover and Dr Know turned out to be a real pussy cat? She only hoped so for all of their sakes.
Yes! Her phone was ringing!
Was it Mum?
Sarah?
No. Rob.
‘You’ve missed the children. They’re asleep now.’ The resentment zapped out of Bobbie’s mouth before she had a chance to take it back.
‘Sorry.’ She could hardly hear her husband’s voice over the noise. ‘We’ve been busy.’
‘Sounds like it.’
Why had she said that? She was going to tell him about her day; make it interesting for once. But already she’d blown it.
‘We’ve been power-threshing.’
‘Power-threshing? What’s that?’
‘It’s this new— Sorry, Araminta. I’m just coming.’
‘Araminta?’ Bobbie stiffened. ‘Who’s she?’
‘My new secretary.’ Rob was hissing down the phone. ‘I told you.’
Not her name, he hadn’t. What kind of secretary was called Araminta? Bobbie’s mind flew back to that poor woman in the changing room whose husband had abandoned her. A posh girl, that’s what kind! One who spoke with marbles in her mouth. She’d be a size 8 but would still have massive boobs that didn’t droop. She’d be funny and never lose her rag. She wouldn’t have a car that was littered with sweet wrappers. And she wouldn’t have stretch marks. She’d be the type who was only working until she could find a husband.
Someone else’s.
‘Look, Bobbie, I’m sorry.’ Her husband sounded rushed. ‘I’ve got to go to the next session.’
‘At this time of night?’
‘They’re working us flat out.’
‘Obviously.’
There was a sigh. ‘I’ll call tomorrow. Oh, and give my love to the kids.’
Bobbie switched off the phone with a sinking heart. She hadn’t exactly been the welcoming wife, she told herself ruefully. Nor had she told him about Pamela. But what was the point? Rob was obviously too taken up with more important matters. Like Araminta.
She should feel angry, but instead, she was frightened. In need of reassurance and a friendly voice to talk to. Her fingers began to punch in Sarah’s number. The answer phone! Still. Disappointed, Bobbie found herself dialling another number. The only other person who would understand. After all, he was family, wasn’t he? He knew how that lot worked.
‘Andy? It’s me. Bobbie. Look, I know it’s late but there’s something I’d really like your advice on. Do you have time for a coffee this week?’
‘MUM! MUM! JACK’S BEEN SICK OVER HIS SKATEBOARD AND IT’S ALL RED. I THINK HE’S HAD SOME OF YOUR BEETROOT JUICE!’
There once was a mum from Poole,
Who was always late for school.
Her kids got detention
For flouting convention –
But she simply thought she was cool.
Chapter 20
VANESSA
‘I WANT THE sky, Van Van! I want the sky!’
Sure, Vanessa felt like retorting as they walked down the high street towards the station. But ‘I want’ doesn’t get! How was it possible for a child to have changed so much in such a short space of time, she wondered, looking down at Sunshine, skipping along beside her wearing blue spotty leggings and a matching top. She was almost unrecognisable from the ragged bundle that had been dumped into her arms.
It wasn’t just her appearance either. It was the alacrity with which Sunshine had adjusted to her different life, coming back from school every day with new words, not all of which were appropriate. Always wanting this and that. Making a fuss when Vanessa said she had to turn off the television for tea. Not chanting as often as she used to. Declaring that she didn’t want to wear the outfit Vanessa had put out and insisting on wearing something else. In other words, she’d become a normal child.
Vanessa too had been thrown into another world. One that consisted of things called Moshi Monsters and DS games and other toys that she’d never heard of before. It didn’t surprise Vanessa that Sunshine now wanted the sky! Those adverts on television were nothing short of blackmail. If parents didn’t give in, their children created merry hell. Everyone said so in parenting class. It had been a bit like that when Brigid had been young, she told them all, but not nearly as bad.
Brigid! Her daughter was never out of her mind. But the Foreign Office still hadn’t come up with anything. What else could she do but carry on and try to be a good grandparent? ‘You can’t have the sky, silly,’ she said, holding Sunshine’s hand tightly as they crossed the road.
‘WHY?’
Another word that she’d picked up from Jack and Daisy, along with the loud speech that sounded as though it was in capital letters.
‘Because, well, because if you did, the world would fall down.’
‘WHY?’
Oh, for goodness’ sake! Vanessa could feel herself getting exasperated, which wasn’t like her at all. ‘Please, Sunshine. Stop asking so many questions!’
If they didn’t hurry, they would miss the train. Vanessa felt a sick feeling inside as she thought of the letter inside her bag that told them where to find the DNA clinic. It had to be done. At least, that’s what the lawyer had advised. But Sunshine
was standing stock-still now, in the middle of the pavement, refusing to move on.
‘Distract the little buggers.’ Wasn’t that what one of the mothers had advised the other week? The one who wasn’t really pregnant and had it in for poor Bobbie. ‘Give them something else to do so they stop whining.’
Not a bad idea.
‘Look, Sunshine, there’s your favourite programme!’ She pointed to a large television screen in the window of a shop they were passing. It showed a large pink pig called Mollie who spoke in unintelligible grunts, just like most of the children’s presenters nowadays. Or maybe she was just old-fashioned. There was a notice next to it with the words: GREAT OFFER FOR SKY SUBSCRIBERS.
‘YES!’ Sunshine stopped crying and began jumping up and down again, this time with excitement, her plaits flying. ‘That’s what I said I wanted!’
Oh! Her granddaughter didn’t want ‘the’ sky. She wanted Sky! That’s what came of going to Jack and Daisy’s for tea. ‘We can’t, I’m afraid,’ she said, glancing at the package offer next to the screen where Mollie the pig was dancing, trotters raised. ‘It’s too expensive.’
Sunshine’s face crumpled. ‘I want it,’ she began to cry. ‘I want it.’
‘Too bad,’ Vanessa felt like saying. But right at this moment, she needed to pacify her, stop her yelling. Get away from that older passer-by who was clucking disapprovingly. ‘Come on!’ she said, tugging Sunshine’s hand. ‘Or we’ll miss our train.’
‘Don’t want to get the stupid train!’ Sunshine’s face was streaming with tears and her words were coming out with huge sobs. ‘Want the Sky.’
‘Not now.’
‘WHY NOT NOW?’
Because we have to do a test to see who your father is!
Not that she could say that, of course. There were some things an adult should never tell a child. And some things that a child really ought to tell an adult. ‘I’ll have a think about Sky after we’ve been to London,’ she heard herself saying.
‘Promise?’ Sunshine was eyeing her suspiciously. How had she learned so much, so fast? Bobbie’s kids were lethal teachers. They’d certainly give Dr Know a run for his money! How she’d like to be a fly on the wall when he came to visit.