Happy Families

by Janey Fraser

  No, he wouldn’t, Andy assured her. Yet at the same time, he couldn’t help feeling that Mel was taking a certain pleasure in getting her little sister into trouble.

  ‘By the way, Dad. Are you out tonight?’

  ‘No. My parenting group is having a get-together on its own for a change.’ Her disappointment was all too obvious. ‘Why? Thinking of having a party?’

  Mel pouted. ‘Why do you and Mum keep treating me like a kid?’

  ‘Because you are one.’

  ‘No I’m not. Jason says that when his daughter is older, he’s going to understand when she wants to do stuff.’

  ‘Who’s Jason?’

  ‘My boyfriend, course.’

  ‘That bloke with huge plug earrings I saw in your room? He’s got a child?’

  Mel looked a bit awkward. ‘Well, he thinks it’s his daughter but he’s having some tests done to prove it.’

  This was awful! ‘I don’t want you going out with someone who’s …’ His voice faded away. What he really meant was that he didn’t want her going out with anyone who had ‘done it’. His Mel! His beautiful Mel who was only seventeen. How dare some oikish bloke with a kid in tow get his hands on his daughter?

  Mel grabbed her bag at the splutter of tyres on the gravel outside. Looking through the window, Andy spotted a beaten-up old Corsa creaking to a halt. ‘You’re going out in that?’

  ‘Keep your hair on, Dad.’

  ‘But it’s got L-plates!’

  ‘That’s for me!’ Mel grabbed her bag. ‘He’s giving me practice, Dad. See you!’

  And she was off before Andy could stop her.

  EMAIL FROM JUDITH DAVIES

  TO ANDY GOODING

  Hope you don’t mind me asking but the Perfect Parents’ handbook suggests that we end the course with a weekend retreat! This will help the group to consolidate what they have learned! The book also suggests that they bring partners and children. Someone mentioned that you have a house in Devon. We wondered if it would be possible for us to go there in the holidays? Perhaps you could let me know what you think?

  There was a young Jock, who wouldn’t say please –

  Not even when mum went down on her knees.

  But she got her own back

  For him giving her flack

  By taking away his house keys.

  PERFECT PARENTS: SESSION EIGHT

  LEARNING TO LET GO!

  ONE OF THE EASIEST HARDEST JOBS AS A PARENT IS TO GIVE YOUR KIDS THEIR INDEPENDENCE.

  PLUS! WHAT HAVE WE GOT OUT OF THIS COURSE?

  (Ed’s note: Why is there a blank space here?)

  Chapter 31

  BOBBIE

  ‘SO,’ CHIRRUPED MISS Davies, ‘this is our last session!’

  There was a murmur of ‘we’ll miss it’ amidst a few embarrassed smiles. They’d all felt so awkward at the beginning. Now it seemed impossible that they wouldn’t carry on meeting every Monday night. The teacher’s table was already piled with thank-you gifts. Bobbie had brought a lavender sachet. It was meant to be calming, according to the label. Maybe she should keep it for herself. Ever since that email, she’d been a nervous wreck.

  ‘Complaint … Miss Araminta Avon … traced back your number … inappropriate questions during medical survey … threatened to contact the standards authority … no longer in need of your services …’

  She knew every word off by heart now. At first, Bobbie hadn’t understood how Araminta had traced her number and given it to her boss at Research Trivia. Hadn’t she dialled 1471? Then she’d remembered with a cold jolt. It had been engaged. So she’d dialled it again – without the prefix!

  And now she’d not only lost her job but was also, as her line manager had informed her, guilty of breaching their code of conduct. ‘If Miss Avon chooses to press charges, you could be facing a stiff fine or even a sentence,’ he’d informed her icily.

  Prison? Her legs had turned to jelly. What would happen to Jack and Daisy? What about the child inside her? And what on earth would Rob say?

  ‘The good news’, continued Judith chirpily, ‘is that Andy Gooding, who runs the teenage group up the corridor, has kindly offered his holiday home in Devon as a weekend retreat.’

  Andy’s name caught Bobbie’s attention. How she wanted to tell him about this awful mess she’d got herself into! Then again, she’d already confided in Vanessa.

  ‘Please let me know by the end of the evening if you’re interested. Meanwhile, would anyone like to give us all some feedback on the course – has it helped at all?’

  Everyone began to shuffle. No one wanted to speak first, least of all Bobbie. It would be so nice to say, if only to please Judith, that Daisy and Jack had turned over a new leaf between them. But they hadn’t. Maybe her kids were in a class of their own when it came to bad behaviour. It wasn’t long now until Mum’s visit, so Dr Know would just have to take them as he found them. Even if she was behind bars by then.

  ‘It’s helped me to understand my granddaughter a bit better,’ piped up Vanessa. ‘Thanks for that. And I’ve made new friends.’

  Sitting down, she exchanged a small smile with Bobbie. If nothing else, it looked as though she really had been forgiven.

  Battered Mum had her hand up. ‘The other day, my son tried to push me. But I caught his hand before he could hurt me and told him that he had a choice. Either he stopped this violent stuff or else I put him up for that programme on telly. The one where they send bad kids to strict parents in America. It’s called The World’s Strictest Parents. Have you seen it? It’s brill.’

  Judith looked as though this wasn’t the answer she’d been expecting.

  ‘What did he say to that?’ asked Not Really Pregnant Mum.

  ‘We’re waiting to hear if they’ll accept him.’

  Vanessa caught her eye and they both tried not to giggle. Then Bobbie stopped. How could she laugh when things were so serious?

  ‘I’ve learned that you can’t get it all from books,’ offered Too Many Kids Mum. ‘It also seems there are no magic answers. It’s a question of trying out different alternatives and seeing what works, without expecting a miraculous turn-round.’

  Miss Davies beamed. ‘Wonderful! Anyone else?’

  Bobbie took a deep breath. ‘I asked Daisy to explain why she had stolen something – a flute that belonged to someone else – and allowed her brother to take the blame. She said she didn’t know.’

  Not Really Pregnant Mum bristled. ‘Stealing again! Someone ought to report you. And your kids.’

  She should have kept quiet! This was turning into a witch hunt.

  ‘Actually,’ said a voice behind her, ‘my Lottie went through a period of stealing money a couple of years ago.’

  Bobbie turned round gratefully. ‘Really?’

  Matthew was standing up now, with a go-on-then-criticise-me-too look on his face. ‘I was cross at the time but then I realised it was attention-seeking.’

  How complicated kids could be! You needed a degree in psychology to be a parent.

  ‘My wife had recently died,’ continued Matthew, ‘and my daughter didn’t like having au pairs in those days.’

  ‘Understandable,’ snorted Not Really Pregnant Mum. ‘But what’s your excuse, Bobbie?’

  ‘Well,’ she began, voice wobbling, ‘we’ve got family issues at the moment. I think my two are picking up on the vibes and doing things that they wouldn’t normally do.’

  Bobbie sat down heavily, aware of Vanessa’s hand reaching out for hers. ‘Well done,’ she whispered. ‘That was very brave.’

  Was it? Or had she simply dented her family’s reputation even further? Meanwhile, Miss Davies was handing out feedback forms and they all settled down to watch the final DVD, optimistically entitled Looking Forward to the Future.

  The prospect of the future filled her with dread. Maybe Vanessa was right. Her only option was to pay another visit to Araminta.

  But it was a gamble. A huge one.

  *

&nb
sp; ‘I’ve got a tummy ache!’

  Oh no. Every parent hated ‘tummy-ache days’. You had to put your own judgement on the line. Work out if it merited a long wait at the doctor’s or whether it was just plain skiving. Usually, with Jack, it was the latter. She eyed him sceptically. ‘This wouldn’t have anything to do with the maths test today, would it?’

  ‘No.’ He shook his head dramatically. Too dramatically.

  Mmmm. He was well enough to be playing with his computer game under the covers, but even so, she couldn’t risk it. Not after the last time when the school secretary had told her off for sending him in when he was under the weather. Blast! What was she going to do now? This was her last chance! Rob was away at another conference and Araminta would, or so she hoped, be in the office.

  ‘Bobbie?’ It was Rob on the mobile. ‘Listen, I’m sorry to do this to you, darling, but I’ve left something at home.’

  Darling? It had been years since he’d called her that. Unusual endearments and unexpected bunches of flowers were all signs of affairs, weren’t they? But Araminta was seeing another man, and besides, recently Rob seemed to have been making a real effort – for some unknown reason. She couldn’t imagine now how she could ever have suspected her husband of anything.

  ‘I know you’re really busy with the children.’

  What had come over him? Rob was always telling her how easy she had it at home, compared with ‘the real world’.

  ‘But I wondered if you could possibly take some papers into the office. Stupidly, I’ve left them behind and they’re too confidential for me to send a courier.’

  ‘MUM! MUM! I WANT TO SPEAK TO DAD! CAN YOU PUT HIM ON SKYPE?’

  ‘He’s too busy, Jack. Later.’

  ‘No,’ interrupted Rob. ‘It’s all right. Put him on.’

  He’d never, ever said that before!

  ‘DAD! My tummy hurts. Mum says it’s nuffing and—’

  ‘That’s enough!’ Bobbie grabbed the phone. Rob had given her the perfect excuse to have a face-to-face with Araminta. Her Research Trivia line manager had let slip that Araminta hadn’t realised it was her – Bobbie – who had made that call, only that it was one of the company’s freelance employees. Maybe if she told her what had really happened, as Vanessa had advised, Araminta might withdraw her complaint. It was her only hope if she was going to hide this from her husband.

  ‘It’s all right,’ she added, down the line. ‘I don’t think Jack’s really ill so I’ll take him with me. Just tell me where these papers are and we’ll be there as soon as we can!’

  Maybe life really had turned the corner! Bobbie felt a sense of optimism inside as she waited on the station platform with Jack who was actually – miracle of miracles! – sitting next to her quietly on the bench. Usually she was having to hang on to him to make sure he didn’t go near the track or run off down the stairs to the car park. But she’d used that tip Not Really Pregnant Mum had mentioned in class: the one where you pre-empted the situation and then offered them something that they really, really wanted.

  ‘I know you’re going to be bored stiff sitting here while we wait for the train,’ she’d said when Jack began to whine because she wouldn’t let him skateboard on the platform (he’d insisted on bringing the darned thing). ‘I’m going to be bored too. But you can have my iPad to play with for a whole hour!’

  So what if it was bribery! Incredibly, they had a virtually pain-free journey to London. ‘What a well-behaved little lad,’ said an older woman as they got off.

  Bobbie looked around to see whom she was talking to. ‘My son? Gosh. Thanks.’

  Then she took Jack’s hand. ‘Leave me alone,’ he whined. ‘You’re messing up my game.’

  The older woman looked disappointed. Oh well, illusions never lasted. For a moment there, Bobbie’s mind had been taken off the job in hand. Now she was beginning to feel butterflies just like the last time she had come to Rob’s office.

  ‘Araminta Avon, please,’ she said, standing at the smart reception desk. ‘Can you say that it’s Mrs Wright. Yes, I believe she is expecting me. Jack. Come here!’

  Oh God. He was off. Scooting across the marble floor on his flipping skateboard, flicking bogeys as he went.

  ‘Mrs Wright!’

  The squeaky little-girl voice shrilled across the lobby. ‘I’m sorry to keep you waiting.’ She glanced nervously at Jack, who was now zooming back towards them. Araminta nipped out of the way just in time. ‘You must be the little man that your daddy’s always talking about! Very proud he is of you.’

  Could this really be the woman that she’d seen as a threat? Close up, she seemed quite nice. And even spottier. That brace was really obvious. Fantastic!

  ‘I’ve brought the papers.’

  ‘Great!’ Araminta made to take them.

  ‘Actually, I wondered if we could have five minutes to talk.’ Bobbie scoured the busy foyer for Jack, who was now scooting off in another direction ‘Somewhere more private. There’s a playground over the road, I noticed, with a skateboard park. My little boy could let off steam there.’

  Araminta glanced at her watch. ‘I’m very busy. Your husband is a real workaholic, you know. Keeps my nose to the grindstone.’

  ‘Please.’ Bobbie fought to keep the desperation out of her voice and lost. ‘It’s about your complaint. The one to Research Trivia.’

  ‘It was you? You were the one who asked me all those questions about my personal life?’

  Araminta’s expression had changed from ‘being friendly to the boss’s wife’ to one of outright hostility.

  ‘No, wait. Listen. JACK, COME BACK. Don’t go, Araminga. I mean, Araminta. I thought you were having an affair with my husband, you see.’

  ‘Your husband!’ There was a loud laugh and a flash of expensive braces.

  ‘It’s not that funny.’ Bobbie felt quite defensive. ‘He’s very good-looking and he talked about you once in his sleep.’ She felt herself turn puce red just as she remembered something else. ‘One night, he came back reeking of perfume – unless, oh God, he’s having an affair with someone else.’

  ‘Of course not! He wouldn’t have time!’ Araminta clutched her hand. It felt surprisingly comforting. ‘The thing about advertising – and not everyone gets this – is that it’s utterly consuming. When you’re running a campaign like we are at the moment, it’s twenty-four/seven. You and Me is one of the biggest projects we’ve ever had. There’s a lot at stake.’

  ‘Sorry,’ said Bobbie interrupting. ‘You and Me? That’s a project?’

  ‘Shhh.’ Araminta looked around. ‘It’s actually a code name for this really big lingerie company that we’re rebranding. No one’s allowed to discuss it. Not even in our sleep!’

  ‘I see! JACK! COME BACK!’

  ‘Your husband is a very attractive man, I grant you that. But there’s nothing going on between us.’

  Bobbie still felt a bit unsure. That ‘very attractive’ bit had been said with great enthusiasm. This woman might be plump and spotty with braces but, as Sarah was always saying, there was no accounting for taste. (Her friend’s ex-husband’s new bit had extremely thick white puffy ankles.)

  ‘I have to say though, you had a nerve, pretending to interview me. Not bad. Not bad at all.’ Araminta sounded almost impressed. In fact, she was getting out her notepad. ‘We might be able to use that one in a campaign. We’re pitching for a tracking-device account at this very moment.’

  This was her life they were talking about! Not work! ‘Didn’t you recognise our home number when you did 1471 after my call?’

  Araminta was still writing. ‘Sorry? What? No, of course not. I always use Rob’s mobile when I need to get hold of him. Not your landline.’

  Bobbie thought back to the text with the kiss. ‘So I gather.’

  ‘Trouble is,’ continued Araminta chummily, putting her pad away, ‘a lot of marriages in advertising break up under the strain. It’s usually the wives who can’t cope. We have to work as a team and s
ometimes that includes eating, drinking and sleeping together – well, not like that although I won’t pretend it doesn’t happen.’ She made a wry face. ‘I’ve made that mistake myself.’

  Bobbie was beginning to panic again now. ‘But not with Rob?’

  ‘Course not. I never have affairs with men who have kids under ten.’ She touched Bobbie’s hand again. ‘I do have morals, you know. In fact, I’m always telling your husband not to stay so late in the office.’

  ‘You do? JACK! I’M NOT GOING TO TELL YOU AGAIN!’

  ‘Absolutely. I had a real go at him the other day. Your kids need to see you, I said. They might be asleep when you get home but they still need to know that you’ve got that last train.’ Araminta looked slightly smug. ‘He may be my boss but we have a very good relationship.’

  Clearly!

  ‘As for the perfume, I’m afraid you are right on that one. Every now and then, he gives me a big cuddle.’

  Bobbie felt nauseous. ‘So there is something between you? JACK!’

  ‘Definitely!’ Araminta was nodding. The crop of spots on her chin was close to eruption. ‘He’s been helping me through a rather difficult time: listening and giving the odd comfort hug. You see, I’m having a relationship with someone who isn’t available. Well, not at the moment.’ She looked around, as if worried someone might hear. ‘I know it’s wrong. In fact, your phone call did me a favour. It spooked me out and I tried to break it off with Duncan.’ Tears came into her eyes. ‘But then he kept ringing; insisting that his marriage was over anyway.’

  That old chestnut! ‘Does he have children?’ interrupted Bobbie, recalling Araminta’s rather dubious not-under-ten rule.

  ‘No.’

  That was something. Bobbie didn’t like the idea of anyone having an affair but if two people were terribly unhappy, who was to decree that they had to stay together forever? ‘The thing is that Rob and I do have kids, as you probably know. Two.’ She glanced down at her stomach. ‘And I would do anything, anything, to keep my marriage together. Even if it meant making crazy phone calls. Now I can’t think what got into me.’