Happy Families

by Janey Fraser

‘You know her?’

  ‘She came into the shop the other day with a friend of hers.’ Bobbie shuddered. ‘They were braying to each other through the curtains about a teacher having an affair with one of the fathers.’

  Andy felt a tremor of apprehension. ‘That’s awful.’

  Bobbie looked around the pub, which was packed. ‘Maybe we ought not to meet up like this. People might take it the wrong way.’

  ‘That’s crazy!’ The thought of not seeing her next week punched a hole in his stomach. ‘We’re family!’

  Bobbie nodded. ‘I know. But that woman is trouble, Andy.’ She glanced down at her stomach. ‘And things are difficult enough for me at the moment.’

  Of course they were! He should have asked about the baby earlier, instead of being wrapped up in his own problems. ‘What did Rob say? Was he all right in the end?’

  She bit her lip. ‘I still haven’t told him. Don’t look like that, Andy. I’m just waiting to find the right time.’ Then she looked away. ‘If you don’t mind, I don’t want to talk about it.’

  Andy was about to leave the house – he could get down to Sussex and back in a day if he went right now – when Mrs C. stopped him by the door. From the look on her face, he was in trouble again. Last week, it had been the conservatory, where he had committed the ultimate crime of cleaning the floor with a tin of polish that he’d found under the sink. The wrong tin apparently.

  Why was it that he’d had no trouble in holding his own at work but when it came to home, he felt like a kid? ‘Please,’ Mrs C. had told him in an exasperated tone that made him feel he was the employee instead of the other way round, ‘leave the cleaning to me.’

  But he had to do something. This house-husband stuff was driving him mad! He missed Pamela too: even a cold, icy, distant wife was better than no company at all. It was all very well giving her space. But how long did she need? As for the girls, they much preferred their laptops or phones or iPads or iPods. Anything but the company of a parent.

  ‘What have I done wrong now?’ he asked in a jokey way although deep down he felt quite resentful. Were all the women in this house against him?

  ‘It’s not you, Mr Gooding. It’s … well, it’s this.’ She beckoned to him. ‘Could you come and have a look?’

  He followed her up the stairs and into Pamela’s walk-in dressing room. Mrs C. shut the door behind them. What was going on?

  ‘I’ve been wondering whether to show you this for some time,’ she said quietly. ‘I’ve tried to mind my own business but I can’t keep mum any longer.’

  ‘I don’t understand,’ Andy started to say but then stopped. Mrs C. was standing on a stool and taking down a large hat box from a top shelf.

  ‘Open that,’ she commanded.

  Andy hesitated. ‘I don’t like to go through my wife’s personal things.’

  ‘Oh, for goodness’ sake!’ For a minute, he thought she was going to shake him. ‘You steam open her post, don’t you? Don’t deny it. I’ve seen you.’

  It was true! After that loan statement, he just didn’t trust Pamela. But he hadn’t realised he’d been spotted.

  ‘If you won’t open the lid, I will. There! Now look inside.’

  Bloody hell. He hadn’t expected that! Numbed, he stared at the contents.

  ‘There’s something else too.’ Mrs C. beckoned him towards the laundry room. So? What was wrong with a line of cleaning fluids, neatly stacked in rows?

  ‘Take the lid off one of those bottles.’ Mrs C. had both hands on her waist, imperiously. ‘That’s right. Now taste it!’

  Andy felt sick. It was just like that time at the home when one of the boys had taken him and Kieran by the scruffs of their necks and threatened to pour bleach down their throats if they so much as breathed a word about what had happened that night.

  But he wasn’t there now. He was in his own home. ‘Don’t be ridiculous, Mrs C.’

  Aghast, he watched her pour out a capful, swig some of it herself and then hand it to him.

  Only then did he realise.

  ‘Your wife,’ said Mrs C. shaking her head sadly, ‘she is very clever.’

  In a way, he’d been expecting something like this, Andy told himself as he roared down towards Sussex. It made sense even though nothing else did.

  Two months ago, he’d been the perfect family man with two perfect teenage daughters and a perfect wife. Now he was being blackmailed by a con from his past and had three lying women in his house to boot. Maybe four if you counted Mrs C. and that bottle of ‘cleaning fluid’ he’d spotted in her bag when she’d left.

  By his side, in the well of the passenger seat, was the hat box. ‘Take it with you,’ Mrs C. had urged. ‘Otherwise Mrs Gooding will try and talk her way out of it.’ Her eyes had softened. ‘I don’t want you to think I’m being disloyal but someone has to help her.’

  It was true. Yet now, as he pulled up outside Camilla’s cottage, Andy felt sick with nerves. This would be it. His wife had been livid when he’d opened that loan statement. Goodness knows how she’d react when she saw the contents of the hat box. On the other hand, he had to do something.

  Why are you so scared? he asked himself. Why can’t you go in there like a man and tell her you knew the truth?

  Because she might leave him. That’s why. Leave him just as his parents had left him. Then his world would crumble down around him, all over again. It simply wasn’t an option.

  Slowly he walked up Camilla’s front path, steeling himself, going over the carefully prepared words that he’d been finessing in the car.

  ‘Bonjour?’ An extremely tall, very handsome young man with a small black moustache opened the door, looking at him disdainfully up and down. ‘You want sometheeng?’

  So Camilla’s new au pair had arrived. ‘I’m Andy, Pamela’s husband. May I come in?’

  The small black moustache quivered. ‘I ’ave to check with Meeses Camilla. Plis. Wait there.’

  The man left him standing on the doorstep. Then he heard the sound of footsteps. ‘Of course you can let him in, Pierre. He’s my son-in-law!’

  Heavens, she sounded almost friendly!

  ‘Andrew!’ The door was flung open and Camilla was standing there in front of him. Or was it her? He’d never seen his mother-in-law without make-up before. She looked vulnerable. Scared. Like a little girl. And if he wasn’t mistaken, she’d been crying.

  ‘I’m so glad you’ve come. I was just about to call you.’

  ‘Why?’ He felt a burst of alarm. ‘What’s happened?’

  ‘You’d better come in,’ she said, sniffing loudly. ‘I’m sorry, Andrew. I should have told you a long time ago. And now I’m worried it might be too late.’

  There was once a stay-at-home mum,

  Whose kids had her under their thumb.

  So she found a childminder –

  ’Twas really much kinder!

  Then went back to work for some fun.

  Chapter 28

  BOBBIE

  ‘BUT YOU’VE GOT to have it out with him!’ insisted Sarah down the phone. ‘You can’t just let Rob get away with it! From what you’ve told me, this Araminta woman has virtually admitted to having an affair.’

  In the past, Bobbie had never understood why women stayed with men who were unfaithful. But now it was happening to her, she was beginning to understand. How could she allow the children to grow up without a resident father? Wasn’t it better to turn a blind eye, just as Mum had done, in the hope he would ‘go off the other woman’ and stay put? Or was that hypocritical, as Sarah was arguing?

  The dilemma, plus the morning sickness that she was passing off as a ‘bug’ that was going around, made her nauseous.

  ‘Mum! Jack’s doing it again!’

  ‘Sorry, Sarah, I’ve got to go.’

  ‘But you haven’t told me what the doctor said!’

  Automatically, Bobbie put her hand down to her stomach. It was incredible that something was growing there. Something that had happened du
ring ‘a quiet night in’ to celebrate her birthday. Rob in particular, she remembered, had had rather a lot to drink. Had he been fantasising about Araminta when he had done it? What a horrible thought.

  ‘He’s booked me in for a scan.’ Bobbie gave a hoarse laugh. ‘I suppose I’d better tell Rob by then.’

  ‘MUM! Jack’s doing it AGAIN!’

  ‘You need to keep your powder dry!’ Sarah spoke with the authority of the woman who had put a private detective on her husband’s tail. ‘Actually, there is one other thing you could do.’

  Bobbie listened with incredulity to her friend’s suggestion. ‘I’m not sure about that.’

  ‘Why not?’ Sarah sounded offended. ‘My last idea worked, didn’t it? If you hadn’t “interviewed” Araminta, you wouldn’t have known the truth.’

  Maybe it would have been better if she hadn’t.

  ‘MUM, MUM!’

  ‘I’ll ring back later this week.’

  ‘Well, give it a go, will you?’

  CRASH!

  Oh my God! The glass coffee table was smashed. Jack was sitting beside it, surrounded by shards of glass. ‘Are you hurt?’ gasped Bobbie, kneeling beside her son.

  ‘No!’ He grinned up at her.

  Relief turned to anger. ‘What on earth were you doing?’

  He shrugged. ‘Just jumping.’

  ‘You mean leaping off the sofa and on to the table without touching the ground.’ Daisy had both hands on her waist in her best headmistress mode. ‘I did tell you, Mum, but you were on the phone. Again!’

  As if on cue, it rang once more. Forget it.

  ‘Keep away, both of you.’

  Bobbie grabbed a dustpan and brush and began to sweep up the mess. ‘I don’t want you to get cut.’

  ‘But what about the phone?’ Daisy was still poised importantly. ‘I’ll get it.’

  ‘Ouch.’ Bobbie sucked her finger where a tiny piece of glass had cut it. This could have been really nasty! Sometimes when she looked back at the scrapes her son had got into, she wondered how he’d survived.

  ‘That was Vanessa!’ Daisy announced, putting down the receiver. ‘Her babysitter has let her down tonight so she wanted to know if she could bring Sunshine here. I said that was fine.’

  ‘Did you?’ Bobbie regarded her daughter with a mixture of awe and irritation. She was so bossy – just like her sister in Australia – but at the same time, so in control. She could almost run the house! But how would she cope if she became one of those children that was passed like a parcel between two parents? Of course it happened all the time. But to other families. Not hers.

  ‘I told her that Dad was babysitting tonight.’ Daisy was nodding excitedly. ‘I heard him promising he’d be back on time. Oh, and Granny texted me when you were on the phone to Sarah. She says her boyfriend is on television tonight and don’t forget to watch him!’

  ‘Sorry we’re late!’ whispered Bobbie as she and Vanessa crept into the classroom. The film had already started, which meant they’d missed the ‘How did you get on’ bit at the beginning. Shame! She and Vanessa rather enjoyed giggling at the ‘Absolutely wonderful’ feedback from Mr or Mrs Perfect.

  ‘We’re talking about how to keep calm when the kids are driving you crazy,’ whispered Too Many Kids Mum, who was sitting right next to the door.

  ‘Shhhh,’ hissed Mr Perfect.

  Bobbie tried to concentrate. But it was difficult. All she could think about was Rob, who’d made them late. ‘I got here as fast as I could,’ he had said defensively. ‘Don’t have another go at me. You don’t understand what pressure I’m under with this campaign.’ Then he saw the smashed coffee table. ‘What on earth happened?’

  ‘Ask Jack,’ she retorted. Now as she sat uneasily in the classroom, feeling bloated in that early pregnancy way, she wished she hadn’t given Vanessa a lift. It meant she couldn’t have a coffee with Andy afterwards and run Sarah’s idea past him to get a male point of view.

  ‘So what do you think, Bobbie?’ Judith was giving her a friendly but slightly concerned look as though she knew she hadn’t been listening.

  ‘I think I’d better go and see her,’ replied Bobbie without thinking.

  ‘See her?’ Judith Davies looked puzzled. ‘I don’t understand.’

  ‘Sorry!’ Bobbie shook herself. ‘I was miles away, I’m afraid.’

  ‘Me too,’ yawned American Express. ‘I’m always dropping off. No offence, Miss Davies. But I love coming here. It’s the only “me time” I get.’

  A couple of others nodded. The young teacher looked uncertain. Just you wait, Bobbie thought. You’ll find out what it’s like before long: this impossible mixture of intense love for your children, coupled with the constant need to make sure that they survive each day. No wonder so many marriages sink in the process. Something has to give along the way.

  ‘Bobbie!’ She turned round as they were leaving at the sound of Matthew’s voice. ‘It was good to see you and your friend in the park. Was Jack’s knee all right?’

  She’d forgotten that one. ‘Fine. Trust me. It’s just one more normal incident in our life at the moment.’

  Matthew gave her a funny glance. ‘Right. I see.’ His hands began to twist as though he was nervous. ‘Actually, I was wondering if I could ask you a favour.’

  ‘Do you need help with Lottie?’ she asked.

  His face cleared. ‘Oh, no, I’m sorted now, thanks.’ He looked around him swiftly as the classroom emptied. ‘What I was really wondering was whether your friend in the park was coming along to the school fête.’ He coloured. ‘It’s not important. Not really.’

  So Matthew really did like Sarah! Wow! Bobbie couldn’t wait to tell. And to say she was going to take up her advice after all.

  Yes, Vanessa said slightly reluctantly when she got to work the next day. She could leave the shop just after lunch, if it was that urgent. And yes, Vanessa could pick up Daisy and Jack and give them tea until Bobbie was back.

  The older woman had waited then, as if expecting Bobbie to reveal where she was going. How she wanted to confide in her! After all, Vanessa was one of those really interesting women who, despite not being more than forty-fivish, seemed to have a wealth of experience. Every now and then she referred to an ex-husband called Harry, but in such a way that suggested she didn’t want to take the subject any further.

  It was tempting to ask Vanessa’s advice about Rob and Araminta. Then again, maybe the fewer who knew, the better. Meanwhile, Bobbie tried to fill in the next few hours by sorting out the new clothes that had come in and helping a pair of sisters (who must be sixty-five if they were a day) to find ‘something glittery’.

  ‘We go dancing,’ they said, almost at the same time. ‘Every Thursday afternoon at the town hall. Got our husbands to take it up after our children left home to fill in the gap. Mind if we practise? Vanessa always lets us. We have to make sure that the clothes don’t restrict our movement, you see!’

  And off they went: holding each other at arm’s length, kicking their legs up this way and that and gliding across the shop floor! It almost took Bobbie’s mind off the afternoon ahead. She and Rob used to love dancing before the children, although not the ballroom kind. What would they do to fill in the gap when the kids had left home? It seemed too far off to be believable. She couldn’t imagine a home without Daisy and Jack. And what if she and Rob weren’t together by then?

  Bobbie pressed her nails into her palms. They had to be! Besides, she told herself as she agreed to a slight discount on the sequinned skirt, Rob was being much nicer suddenly. He’d been surprisingly understanding over the glass-table episode. ‘These things happen,’ he’d said after he’d calmed down. ‘It’s OK, son. I remember doing something similar myself. My father caned me for it.’ His face darkened before adding, ‘By the way, I’ve got to go to Scotland for a few days. With any luck, we’ll have cracked the campaign then.’

  ‘Are you going on your own?’

  He gave her a strange look. ‘Ye
s. Why?’

  Oh God, she thought, returning to the present. She was going to be sick again. ‘Sorry,’ she blurted out to the surprised dancing sisters before dashing to the loo. Thank heavens! She had just got there in time. But – blast – there was a large sick stain on her beige trousers: one of the few pairs that fitted now. There wasn’t time to go home and change; not if she was going to lock up at lunchtime and then get to the station. She’d have to borrow something from Vanessa. She wouldn’t mind, surely! After all, she hadn’t noticed the red dress the other week, which she’d had cleaned and then popped back on to the rail. In fact, this pair of suede trousers in a bigger size than she normally took would do nicely. So too would this jersey top. Since working at Vanessa’s, she’d learned quite a lot about fashion!

  It took ages to get to Rob’s London office. Bobbie’s heart began to rise towards her throat as she approached the revolving doors and clip-clopped across the shiny floor in the high heels borrowed from the shop to go with her new outfit. Then she caught sight of herself in the mirrored wall. Wow! She looked very different from the usual Bobbie who lived in jeans. This woman meant business!

  Striding towards the desk, she held her head high, still not knowing exactly what she was going to say. But somehow she had to get hold of her rival. Had to appeal to her better nature, as Sarah had advised. Point out that she and Rob had two children – two and a bit actually – and that she simply had to let her husband go.

  ‘Araminta Avon, please.’

  Bobbie went rigid with shock. Was the oldish, rather tubby man in front of her at reception, asking for her Araminta?

  ‘She’ll be down in a minute, sir. Would you like to take a seat over there?’ The crisp receptionist turned to her. ‘May I help you?’

  ‘Actually, I’ve just remembered. I need to make a phone call first.’ She gave the girl a smile, trying to pretend she was the smart version of herself: the one in the mirror. ‘I’ll come back.’ Smoothly, she headed for the seating area where the tubby man had made himself comfortable. Good! There was a pile of magazines there. Swiftly, Bobbie picked one up as camouflage.