by Janey Fraser
‘Never mind. You’re here now.’
Wow! Vanessa was in business mode! Maybe she was still upset after that horrible business with the car but at least Sunshine was all right, judging by the way she was prancing round Daisy, pretending to be on Strictly Come Dancing.
‘Right. Let’s go over this, shall we?’ Vanessa had new purple glasses. They made her look even trendier. She pointed to a date in her diary. ‘Can you do that day?’
‘Actually, I’ve got my scan then. I was hoping you might be able to have the children.’
‘No can do. I’ve got an appointment.’
Wow! Talk about being abrupt! What had bitten her?
‘We’ll just have to shut the shop early.’ Vanessa sniffed. ‘That’s a nuisance. Can you do Thursday instead? Good. I’ll take the children swimming. Then I’ll do the Friday and then that takes us up to this weekend away.’ There was a sigh. ‘Thought I was going to have to cancel the trip to Devon but Kim’s daughter has offered to step in as a one-off. By the way, she’s just had an email from her mum in Peru!’
Vanessa seemed friendlier now. That was good. ‘There’s something else I want to run past you,’ said Bobbie quickly. ‘Have you ever thought about introducing a Just Pregnant rail? I’m finding it really hard to get clothes, especially at this stage when nothing does up and I’m not ready to wear tents.’ She made a wry face. ‘Stupidly, I gave away all my maternity stuff after Jack.’
‘It could work,’ mused Vanessa, putting her head on one side, just like little Sunshine did when considering something. It wasn’t, Bobbie observed, the only mannerism they shared. They laughed in the same way when something amused them and they screwed up their noses when they didn’t like something. Did Brigid do the same, she wondered? Poor Vanessa! No wonder she was edgy at times. She couldn’t imagine not knowing where her daughter was.
Vanessa’s eyes hardened. ‘By the way, I’m sure I saw someone wearing that jacket at the fête.’
‘Really? Who?’ Bobbie still felt dreadful about inadvertently selling the jacket.
‘Someone I didn’t recognise. I was about to say something when Sunshine ran into the road.’
Bobbie gave her a brief comfort hug. ‘It must have been such a shock for you. But going back to the jacket, we must be able to find the owner somehow. Someone at school must know her if she was at the fête.’
‘Where’s Jack, Mummy?’ asked Daisy, interrupting.
Oh God. All it took was for her to think of something else for a few seconds and he was gone. It was like childminding a mosquito. ‘The door’s locked,’ said Vanessa quickly. ‘So he can’t have escaped.’
Don’t you believe it! Bobbie ran her eye over the top shelves. No. He wasn’t hiding there amongst the hats like last time. Nor was he hiding in the shoe racks like the time before.
‘I’ve found him! I’ve found him!’ sang out Sunshine from the back of the shop. ‘You’ll never guess what he’s doing!’
Taking the kettle plug to bits to see how it worked? Skateboarding through the stockroom? Trying on some of the clothes out the back and leaving muddy hand marks on them?
Or … what? Surely he couldn’t be doing that?
‘Are you ill?’ asked Bobbie, rushing towards her son. Quickly she felt his forehead. Cool.
‘He’s reading!’ Daisy’s voice could have been her own. ‘Look, Mum. Look!’
But Jack never read! He only watched! ‘Well done,’ Bobbie said faintly but Jack didn’t even look up from the pile of Sunshine’s books that were around him. Wow! Was it possible that they had finally turned a corner?
It actually gave them a bit of time to finish off the staff rota. ‘Listen,’ said Vanessa when they’d finished. ‘I’m sorry I was a bit terse earlier. The truth is that someone at school went and contacted social services after Sunshine nearly got run over.’
‘No!’ Bobbie gasped. ‘Who?’
‘I don’t know. But somehow they seemed to have heard about that time I lost Jack – you know, when I was meant to be picking him up. So it must be someone we know.’
How awful! Bobbie racked her brains. Mr Perfect? Someone else from the group? One of the teachers? It could be anyone. Parents could be such busybodies. Always trying to score points.
‘Now one of the social workers wants to see us.’ Vanessa looked worried. ‘I feel like a criminal!’
‘But they can’t take Sunshine away from you, surely?’
‘They can do almost anything they want nowadays.’ Vanessa’s voice was shaky. ‘After Baby P. and those other awful cases, they’re in a difficult situation. They can’t afford to get anything wrong. There’s another thing too. I haven’t got any official right to look after Sunshine. I don’t have the right paperwork. There’s a good chance they might get me on that.’
‘But you’re a brilliant mum. I mean, gran.’
‘Am I?’ Vanessa sniffed. ‘I didn’t do very well with Brigid, did I?’
‘Do you think that was her on the phone?’
‘If it was, she hasn’t rung again.’ Vanessa shook herself as though wanting to change the subject. ‘You know, your idea for a Just Pregnant rail is a good one. We’ll put up some notices in the shop and maybe in the local paper. After that, you can be in charge. Make it your baby, if you like!’
Bobbie felt a lovely warm glow. ‘That’s wonderful! Thank you so much. I won’t let you down, I promise!’
‘MUM! MUM! Jack’s got chocolate over this lovely dress in the back and we can’t get the stain out.’
Talk about a short attention span. Did it ever end? Then she thought of Sunshine and the car. It made you count your blessings. It really did.
‘Coming!’ she called out.
*
It looked as though there was nothing for it but to take both Daisy and Jack with them to the scan. ‘Isn’t there anyone else at school you could ask?’ Rob had said the night before.
‘Not really.’ Thanks to Jack’s behaviour, it was still difficult to make friends with the other mums although, it had to be said, Angie, alias Not Really Pregnant Mum, had actually waved at her across the car park the other day. It would be interesting to see how they all got on in Devon. ‘You could always give your niece a second chance.’
‘No way.’ Rob’s mouth tightened. ‘When it comes to drugs, I’ve got zero tolerance.’ He dropped his voice even though, miraculously, both children were in bed. Jack was actually reading again; encouraged by the challenge which Mr Balls had set for the Easter holidays. ‘I’ve never told you before – we tried to keep it in the family – but when Pamela was modelling, she took—’
‘Mum! Jack’s stolen one of my Moshi Monsters again!’
‘I’ll go.’ Rob jumped to his feet. Usually it was always her who got up first. But this time, Bobbie had the distinct feeling that her husband was glad to be interrupted.
‘No, wait! You were about to say something. About Pamela when she was modelling.’
‘MUM! MUM!’
‘Forget I said anything. It’s private. And I was sworn to secrecy.’
‘But I’m your wife!’
Too late. He was gone. Despite Rob’s ‘new leaf’, Bobbie still felt as though she was a complete outsider when it came to her husband’s close-knit family. Andy felt the same, he said. It would be good to catch up with him during this weekend. She’d missed their chats.
The following day they were on their way to the antenatal clinic with Jack tearing along the corridors making loud buzzing noises – ‘ZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ!, – and Daisy marching bossily behind him. ‘I’ve told you before, Jack. Don’t run or you’ll hurt someone.’
‘Just imagine what she’s going to be like when the baby arrives,’ said Rob, putting his arm around her.
‘You know, I was really worried about telling you.’ She lowered her voice so the children couldn’t hear. ‘You’ve always said that two was enough.’
‘That was before—’ Rob stopped.
‘Before what?’
Rob looked more solemn. ‘He lent me a book too. It’s the one you’ve been using in class actually. I was quite upset by the bit about dads losing touch with their kids.’ They paused in the corridor, just outside the antenatal sign. Jack had already steamed ahead and was inside – she could hear him. And Daisy too, asking questions already. ‘It made me realise that maybe I haven’t been as much of a hands-on dad as I’d meant to be. I’m sorry, Bobbie.’
Was this really her husband talking?
‘I see this baby – our baby – as a clean slate.’ His eyes were shining. ‘Let’s go in and see what it looks like, shall we?’
‘MUM! What’s an antenatal scam?’
‘It’s scan, not scam.’
‘MUM! Will we able to talk to the baby like we talk to Aunty Jeannie on Skype in Australia?’
‘Sort of.’
‘MUM! Will the baby talk back to us? Cos if so, I’m going to tell it that it can’t have my bedroom. It can share with Jack.’
So many questions! Bobbie did her best to field them as she lay, all jellied up on the bed, trying to make sense of the squiggles on the monitor.
‘MUM!’ demanded Jack, staring at the screen with a where-is-it? expression. ‘How does the baby jump out of the television screen?’
‘It doesn’t, silly.’ Daisy’s voice was laden with scorn. ‘It comes out of Mummy’s vadge ina. We’ve been learning about it in biology.’
The radiologist giggled. She was about Judith Davies’s age (why were they so young nowadays – or was it just that she was getting older?) and had said yes, of course the children could come in, provided they didn’t touch anything. It was a new policy, apparently: part of a campaign to bring families together and reduce sibling rivalry. Some hope.
Then she wrinkled her pretty little nose. ‘Goodness – what’s that smell?’
‘Pongo,’ chirped Daisy, flushing. (Why was it that your kids inherited the traits you didn’t like about yourself?) ‘He’s our dog.’
The radiologist looked around. ‘I’m afraid we don’t allow animals in here.’
‘He’s only pretend,’ cut in Bobbie. ‘JACK! DON’T TOUCH THOSE WIRES. STOP FIDGETING, WILL YOU?’
‘There’s no need to shout,’ said Jack. He was staring at the screen. ‘Is it a boy or a girl, Mum?’
The radiologist looked at him and then Bobbie and then Rob again. ‘Do you want to know?’
‘No,’ she said, glaring at her husband. They’d talked about this quite a bit at parenting class. American Express said she spent most of her pregnancy wishing she wasn’t having a boy and then as soon as the baby was put in her arms, she fell in love with him. ‘You think you know what you want but you want what you get,’ she’d said. Bobbie had been rather moved by that.
‘WE WANT TO KNOW! WE WANT TO KNOW!’ chanted the children.
‘Actually,’ said the radiologist slowly, ‘it’s not easy to tell because one of them has got its hand on the other.’
‘What did you say?’ breathed Rob next to her.
‘Please tell me you’re joking,’ Bobbie squeaked. Everyone joked about having twins before a scan. Still, it had happened to the Perfects and to Jilly who ran the au pair agency.
‘There’s no doubt!’ The radiologist now sounded as excited as if it was happening to her. ‘Do you see! There’s one head. And there’s the other!’
Both Rob and Bobbie were still reeling with shock as they stumbled back to the car. Daisy and Jack, on the other hand, were racing ahead, each trying to beat the other into the prized back seat behind the driver. The kicking seat, as it was known. ‘When the babies come, I’m going to strap them in,’ announced Daisy.
‘No. I am.’
Bobbie glanced at Rob. ‘It will be all right, won’t it?’
‘Of course it will.’ He didn’t sound sure. ‘People manage, don’t they?’
But not if they worked twenty-four/seven! Already, her husband was checking his BlackBerry to see what office calls he’d missed. ‘That’s odd.’ He was frowning. ‘I seem to have your phone.’
Jack must have swapped their covers again! Yes, he had! Little monkey.
‘What’s this?’ He pushed her screen under her nose.
Dn’t worry abt mkt research people. Hve withdrawn complaint and told them u are pregnant and under severe mental stress. So they’re not taking it any further. Won’t tell Rob. Gd luck with scan! Araminta.
Her husband’s eyes had gone cold. Hard. Distrustful. As though he didn’t know her. ‘Do you want to tell me what this is all about, Bobbie?’
LIES THAT KIDS TELL THEIR PARENTS
I’ve done my homework.
He hit me first.
Mum says I can.
Dad says I can.
I passed my maths exam.
I’ve cleaned my teeth.
We only kissed.
I’ve lost my school report.
PERFECT PARENTS’ RETREAT WEEKEND
SUMMING UP AND MOVING FORWARD!
Chapter 35
VANESSA
‘BUT I WANT to go swimming!’ Sunshine tugged at her hand as they walked through town towards the building with the Social Services sign. ‘You promised!’
Vanessa tried to sound bright and reassuring. ‘I know I did! But first we have to visit someone and then we’ll go.’
When children didn’t want to do something, offer them a choice, or at least a softener. That’s what the parenting course had suggested. But that kind of advice was surely intended for ordinary everyday situations. Not a visit to the social worker who had called for a meeting to ‘discuss Sunshine’s future’.
‘Promise? We’ll go to the pool as soon as we’ve seen this awful woman?’
‘Please! Don’t call her that.’
‘Well you did.’
She’d forgotten that children were like parrots! They repeated everything they heard – well, anything that could be awkward or embarrassing, anyway. Jack and Daisy were just the same. It must be something they learned at school. Probably on the national curriculum.
‘Sunshine, please listen.’ Vanessa stopped in the street, causing a youth with a pushchair to bump into her. Apologising profusely (Heavens, in her day, boys wouldn’t have been seen dead with a baby!), she bent down to get on to the same eye level as her granddaughter; another useful tip she’d picked up from class. ‘Look at me. It’s really important that we don’t argue in front of this lady.’
‘Why?’
Vanessa hesitated. How could she tell Sunshine that someone was questioning her suitability as a carer? She wasn’t by nature an angry person but if she ever got her hands on whoever who had complained, she’d really give them a piece of her mind. And more.
‘Because’, she continued, ‘I’m older than some of the other mummies.’
Sunshine wrinkled her nose, the way Brigid always used to when she didn’t understand something. ‘That’s because you’re my Van Van, silly!’
Vanessa gave her a cuddle. They were almost here now. It was too late to practise any more of those ‘don’t say this’ and ‘remember to say that’. They’d just have to hope that the social worker would see their point of view.
‘Can you tell me what happened, Sunshine?’ asked the young girl earnestly. She was wearing, Vanessa observed disapprovingly, an A-line grey skirt that didn’t suit her with those clumpy ugly flat shoes that were so fashionable nowadays. But this young girl made her nervous. So too did all these rules and unspoken assumptions.
Of course she understood that these people had to be careful. Th
ere had been yet another case in the paper the previous week: a child who had been found half-naked and hungry in his grandfather’s care. The social worker had been blamed for failing to ‘conduct proper checks’. They didn’t have an easy job. But surely anyone could see that Sunshine was being looked after!
Vanessa couldn’t help feeling a rush of pride as she took in her granddaughter’s neatly plaited hair, her little blue leggings with the matching sweatshirt and her brand-new Start-Rite shoes. The expense of having another mouth to feed (not to mention the clothes) meant that Vanessa had to go without herself. But it was worth it!
‘I need to know what happened at the school fête, Sunshine,’ repeated the girl brightly. ‘Would you like to draw a picture instead of telling me?’
Not that art therapy again!
‘OK!’ Sunshine’s face brightened.
‘We love to draw together,’ said Vanessa, suddenly spotting an opportunity. ‘In fact, she likes it much more than watching television, don’t you poppet?
‘NO!’ Sunshine burst out laughing as though Vanessa had just said something very stupid. She began to pick through the box of wax crayons the girl had given her. ‘My favourite thing is Arctic Penguin.’
‘Is that a book?’ asked the social worker encouragingly.
‘NO!’ Sunshine scoffed. ‘It’s a game on my laptop.’
The girl began to make notes. ‘You have your own laptop?’
‘It’s just second-hand,’ said Vanessa quickly. ‘We bought it from a friend.’
More notes. ‘Are you allowed on the net, Sunshine?’
‘No. Not without my supervision.’
‘Please, Mrs Thomas, I’m asking your granddaughter.’
‘I email my friend Daisy sometimes. And I check my spelling homework with Google even though we’re not meant to.’
This was getting worse.
‘What about swimming, Sunshine? We go every week, don’t we?’
‘That’s cos Van Van’s still learning! No one taught her, you see.’
There was a sharp intake of breath. ‘Presumably you take someone who’s a competent swimmer with you, Mrs Thomas?’
This wasn’t going well. ‘Sunshine swims like a fish! She’s better than most children who are much older than she is. And besides, there are lifeguards there.’