Happy Families

by Janey Fraser

  It took a while for Bobbie to open it; when she did, she was wearing one of the white guest dressing gowns and pretending to look confused.

  Vanessa wasn’t having that. ‘You know why I’m here, don’t you?’

  ‘Something going on?’ Rob loomed up behind his wife. He had his hand protectively on her shoulder: just as Brian used to do to her.

  ‘Yes,’ snapped Vanessa. ‘There is.’

  Bobbie was flushing deep red. That woman was guilty. She just knew it. ‘Tell me straight. Did you ring social services?’

  Bobbie took a step back. ‘Of course not.’

  ‘Are you sure? I know that you had something to do with that suede jacket. Don’t deny it! I saw Sarah wearing it yesterday. Not that that’s important compared with Sunshine.’ Vanessa had never seen herself as a violent woman but it was all she could do not to seize Bobbie by the lapels of that dressing gown. ‘Do you realise the damage you’ve done!’

  Rob was looking at his wife aghast. ‘Please don’t tell me you’ve done something silly again.’

  ‘No. NO!’ Bobbie was shaking her head. ‘I promise you. It was nothing to do with me. I wouldn’t do that to you, Vanessa.’

  ‘I’d like to believe you, Bobbie, but I don’t know if I can.’ She turned round, feeling a horrible heaviness in her chest. ‘You’ve told lies before. Just like your children. And to be honest …’

  ‘CAN SOMEONE HELP ME?’ Matthew came dashing out of the room next door. ‘Lottie’s in absolute agony. Something’s wrong this time. I know it is. Call an ambulance. Quick!’

  After they’d gone, complete with siren and flashing blue lights, it didn’t seem right to stay on any more. Brian was the first to leave. Quite a lot of guests were still outside from when the ambulance had gone off, so she couldn’t even have a proper goodbye kiss.

  ‘How awful,’ said Mrs Perfect as they gathered around, still not quite believing what had just happened. ‘Mind you, I did think Matthew should have taken his daughter straight to the doctor when it first started.’

  ‘No you didn’t!’ snapped her husband. ‘Your exact words were: There goes that man making a fuss again.’

  Vanessa was too upset to talk. Matthew had brought Lottie to her that very morning for advice. ‘You’ve got more experience than me.’ Those were his exact words. But she’d got it wrong. It was so easy to do that with kids. Too easy when the consequences could be fatal. That was one of the scariest things about being a parent. Making these huge decisions, often on your own.

  Now all they could do was hope. Maybe say a little prayer too. No harm in that, surely?

  ‘I’m going back with Rob,’ said Bobbie, not looking Vanessa in the face. Sign of a guilty conscience if ever there was one.

  ‘Yes. Of course.’ Vanessa turned away.

  ‘Presumably you won’t want me in the shop tomorrow.’ Despite her words, Bobbie’s voice sounded hopeful.

  ‘You presume right.’

  ‘I didn’t do it, you know!’

  As she spoke, there was the sound of the horn honking from Rob’s car outside. ‘If you say so.’

  Bobbie tried to kiss Vanessa on her cheek but she moved away. ‘Please go, Bobbie. I’ve nothing more to say to you.’ How, she wondered, watching Daisy waving madly at Sunshine from the back seat, could she have got Bobbie so wrong?

  The journey back took ages. One of the junctions was still closed owing to the bad weather and there was an accident a few miles after that. She only hoped it wasn’t one of their party. Then again, that was selfish. It didn’t matter who it was, as long as they were all right.

  ‘Do you think Lottie is better now?’ asked Sunshine from the back.

  ‘I hope so.’

  ‘If Mummy was here, she’d be able to help. Like she helps the other women in our village.’

  ‘Really?’ Vanessa’s hands tightened on the steering wheel. ‘How does she do that?’

  ‘She puts her hand on them and then they’re better.’

  Like a faith healer? Someone who laid on hands? But Brigid had always been so sharp. So angry. So abrupt. The picture didn’t really fit.

  Maybe it was just Sunshine’s imagination. Kids came up with some amazing stories, as someone had said at the parenting class. If only you knew which ones to believe. They were nearly coming into Corrywood now; past the rich part where Pamela and Andy lived (fancy having two amazing homes!); then the middle-priced bit like Bobbie and Rob; and then their part, on the other side of the railway line. The wrong side. Maybe that had been another point against them in the social worker’s books.

  She’d find out this week, at the meeting. Vanessa felt a huge wave of apprehension. Devon had distracted her from all her problems: the hospital appointment as well as social services. But now they were back in the real world. Maybe she ought to prepare Sunshine, just in case.

  ‘Poppet,’ she began, her mouth dry. ‘Remember the woman we went to see? The woman who you said smelt funny?’

  ‘LOOK!’ Sunshine’s voice rose into such a shriek that Vanessa wanted to put her hands over her ears. ‘LOOK!’

  She was undoing her belt! Trying to scramble out of the car before it had even stopped; before she could find a parking space. For a minute, Vanessa thought she was referring to Brian. There was indeed a white van in the road. But it was bigger with gaudy psychedelic squirls on it.

  ‘IT’S MUMMY!’

  No. No. It couldn’t be. But then Vanessa saw the girl running towards them. The tall, nut-brown girl with the startling blue eyes and jet black hair just like Harry.

  ‘MUMMY!’ cried Sunshine, running up and throwing herself into her mother’s arms. Vanessa sat there, rigid, the engine still running.

  Brigid? Brigid!

  Was it really her?

  PARENTS! SIX THINGS YOU SHOULD NEVER DO

  Wear teen-type clothes.

  Attempt to talk cool.

  Ring another child’s mum to ask why you didn’t get an invitation to the class party.

  Put a tracer on your mobile.

  Snoop in their Trash box.

  Give up.

  Extracted from I Can’t Cope With My Kids magazine.

  PERFECT PARENTING AFRESH!

  PUTTING EVERYTHING INTO PRACTICE!

  Chapter 42

  ANDY

  ANDY STEELED HIMSELF for Pamela’s disapproval as soon as they stepped in through the door after the drive back from Devon.

  ‘I’m afraid I didn’t get a chance to tidy up before we left,’ he started to say, wishing he had at least emptied the kitchen bin or sorted out that unsavoury smell from under the sink.

  She shrugged. ‘Don’t fuss. I’m just glad to be home.’

  Mel exchanged worried looks with her sister. ‘Are you OK, Mum?’

  ‘I’ll be better, darling, when I’ve had a drink.’

  Oh God. Camilla had warned him about this; had pointed out that alcoholics rarely changed and that if Pamela was anything like her father, she’d revert to her old ways within minutes.

  Bloody hell! His wife was putting on the kettle!

  ‘Tea or coffee?’ She wrapped one arm around Mel and another round Nattie. ‘Your father and I have been talking about the drinking and smoking. All I can say is that I’m not going to get all heavy or ignore it like I did before. But you’ll learn one day that it isn’t the way to deal with your problems.’

  Blimey! Andy stared at his wife. Was this really the uptight woman who had gone away shortly after that awful birthday party?

  ‘From now on,’ continued Pamela, stirring sugar into her tea – Pamela never took sugar! – ‘we’re not going to have any secrets from each other. In fact, I suggest we have regular weekly conferences.’

  The girls groaned. ‘Dad tried to make us do that and it was crap.’

  ‘Well, I suggest we give it another go.’ Pamela slipped her arm through his. ‘We used to do it at the centre.’ She looked rather coy. ‘Even this rather famous actress, whom I can’t possibly name, took p
art. What do you say, Andy?’

  He didn’t know what to think. This woman looked like his wife. Walked like his wife. Smelt like his wife. But she was coming out with stuff that belonged to a Pamela he’d never met. To make it more complicated, he had changed too. Being alone with the girls had made him see things differently. So had Bobbie. And, although he didn’t really like to say so because it sounded a bit naff, the parenting course had given him a different perspective too.

  ‘I reckon’, he said steadily, ‘that Mum’s right. We do need to be more honest with each other. In fact, maybe we’ll have a conference right now.’

  Mel groaned. ‘But I’m going out!’

  ‘Then you’ll just have to text your boyfriend and tell him you’re going to be late,’ retorted Andy. ‘Sit down, everyone.’ He gestured to the kitchen table, which still needed wiping down. ‘I’ve got something to tell you.’

  Nattie’s voice trembled. ‘You’re not getting divorced, are you?’

  ‘Of course we’re not.’ Pamela shot Andy a questioning look. ‘Dad and I are fine, aren’t we?’

  Wistfully, Andy thought of Bobbie. ‘Of course we are.’ He felt embarrassed even saying so. Why should parents have to justify their personal relationship to their children, especially if they couldn’t even explain it to themselves? ‘I’m talking about something else.’

  By the time he’d finished explaining about the investments that hadn’t worked out, the girls were actually listening. Not surprising really. They were clones of Pamela, weren’t they? Anything that involved money would attract their attention.

  ‘I’m glad we’re skint.’ Mel stood up, pushing her chair so that it banged against the wall. Normally Pamela would have snapped – she had got extremely agitated last year when Jack had made a mark on the paint by doing exactly the same thing – but now she was just ignoring it. ‘Jason says it’s selfish to be rich. It’s not fair on everyone else.’

  ‘Then why do you keep lending him money?’ Nattie snorted. ‘Yes, you do, Mel. Don’t try to pretend to Mum and Dad that you don’t.’

  ‘Shut up.’ Mel scowled at her sister. ‘Have you told them that you’re not going back to school?’

  ‘What?’

  His youngest daughter pursed her mouth sulkily. ‘I’ve been offered a contract and I’m nearly sixteen. Before you say anything, either of you, I’m taking it. You can’t stop me. Cos if you do, I’ll just run away.’

  ‘But …’

  ‘No, Andy, she’s right.’ Pamela’s fingers were tapping on the dirty table; her nails were bitten, he noticed. Unpainted too. Usually they were a glossy red. ‘We’ve got to let her do this or she’ll always resent us.’

  Talk about a change of attitude!

  ‘But there have to be some rules, Nattie. Don’t you agree, Andy? You continue living with us until you’re at least eighteen. And—’

  ‘I don’t think any of you realise,’ he cut in exasperatedly. ‘When I say that I’ve lost a lot of money, I mean it. We’re going to have to sell the house. I don’t know where we’re going to be living – we might have to leave Corrywood!’

  Pamela shrugged. ‘That’s OK. Isn’t it, girls?’

  Mel was already halfway out of the room. ‘I’m going out.’

  He leaped to his feet. ‘Not with that boy, you’re not!’

  ‘Andy.’ Pamela laid a hand on his arm. ‘She’s got to learn for herself. Now come on, Nattie. Let’s sit down in the conservatory together. Just you and me. Mother-and-daughter time! I want to know which agency has offered you a contract. You have to be careful, you know. Some are much better than others.’

  He needed to get out of this place. Snatch some air. Find a bit of sanity. Taking his coat, Andy slammed the front door behind him, just in time to see an old banger with L plates revving up before noisily making its way down the road. There was a flash of his older daughter in the driving seat and that lout, damn him, next to her. How dare he? But then a small voice came into his head. ‘That could have been you!’

  It was true. If he hadn’t been given that chance at fourteen, might not he, Andy, have ended up as a loser? No job. No house. No family. It was a sobering thought. One that he would have liked to have shared with Bobbie.

  Unable to stop himself, Andy walked across town to the part which, Pamela always said, wasn’t the sort of area that she would choose to live in. He took a right and then a left. There it was. A modest Victorian three-storey terrace with a rather pretty plant climbing up the front. She was in there somewhere. Bobbie with her sweet smile. In another place and at another time, things might have been so different.

  Andy’s heart began to thump as he walked past, taking a detour back into the high street and up towards the police station. Pamela hadn’t been keen when he’d told her back in Devon what he planned to do. ‘It’s in the past,’ she’d said dismissively. ‘Leave it alone.’

  Impossible. Kieran might have let him off the hook, but Andy couldn’t pretend any more. It was time to face up to his own shortcomings, just as Pamela had faced up to hers in the centre.

  It had been a long time since he’d spoken to a policeman. In fact, part of him was rather hoping the station might be shut. After all, it was evening. But no. Lights were spilling out on to the street and the glass doors opened automatically. There was a woman at the desk, dealing with a group of kids; something about one of them having lost a phone.

  Andy stood there sweating. Maybe this was a mistake. Perhaps he’d just go home after all. But then the kids left, pushing past him rudely, and now he was in front of the desk.

  ‘May I help you?’ The woman looked young. Clear face. Clear eyes. Clear conscience. What he’d give for one of those.

  ‘I’d like to report a crime.’ The words were out of his mouth now. There was no taking them back. ‘Something that happened twenty-five years ago.’

  BOBBIE

  Bobbie had been trying to corner Jack for bathtime but he’d shot under his bed: one of his favourite hiding places. Apart from the Reduced Bread shelf, that was. Now she was getting bigger, it was more difficult to retrieve him.

  ‘Please come out,’ she pleaded.

  ‘No.’ He growled. ‘It’s my den.’

  OK. Time for the choice technique. ‘You can either come out and have extra time after your bath before going to bed. Or you can stay there and go to bed earlier tomorrow night.’

  ‘Stay here!’

  It was hopeless! What on earth would happen when her mother turned up with Dr Know? The Perfect Parents’ course had been all very well. In fact, it had taught her a few good tips. But it didn’t have all the magic answers. Not when you had a child like Jack. ‘He’s got a personality,’ Vanessa used to say encouragingly after class.

  Vanessa! Bobbie’s thoughts turned to all those awful accusations her friend had hurled at her. She’d already tried to ring Sarah – there had to be a simple explanation for the jacket – but she wasn’t picking up. Maybe she was at the hospital with Matthew. Poor little Lottie.

  Moving across Jack’s bedroom, she made to close the curtains. How odd! Wasn’t that Andy? Just standing there on the pavement. Staring at the downstairs sitting-room window. Bobbie’s heart did a funny little flip. Part of her wanted to rush out and talk to him. Tell him that things were better now with Rob; quite a lot better, in fact. Tell him about their plans to downsize and for Rob to find a job that gave him more time with the children.

  But at the same time, she was too scared to go out. Scared in case they both did something that one day they might regret.

  ‘Do I hear trouble going on here?’

  Bobbie shut the curtains quickly as her husband came in. Don’t get cross with Jack, she wanted to say. Don’t spoil everything by telling me that I’m too soft on him.

  ‘Playing lions, are we?’ Rob was actually getting down on all fours. ‘Can I come in too?’

  Jack giggled from under the bed. ‘You’re too big!’

  ‘Want to bet?’

&nb
sp; ‘MUM! MUM! I CAN’T TURN OFF THE BATH TAPS AND THE WATER’S GOING OVER THE SIDE!’

  ‘I’ll go,’ said Bobbie automatically.

  ‘Let me!’ Rob had already jumped to his feet. ‘We’ll sort out those taps, together, won’t we, Jack? I hear lions are very good at that sort of thing.’

  He was trying. She’d give him that. ‘By the way, that was your mother on the phone just now.’ Rob dropped a kiss on top of her head. ‘That boyfriend of hers is going to be on Channel 4 tonight. She says to make sure we don’t miss it.’

  VANESSA

  The three of them were still sitting on the sofa, holding each other tightly in case Brigid disappeared again. Sunshine was on her mother’s knee, arms round her neck. Vanessa was clutching her daughter’s arm as though she was the child and her daughter, the parent.

  ‘I don’t understand,’ she kept saying. This was where your age crept in. This awful inability to absorb stuff, especially when you were still in shock.

  Brigid glanced down at her child. Sunshine’s eyes were shut. Was she asleep? Or just pretending to be? ‘I got into trouble, Mum.’

  That’s no surprise, she almost said but managed to stop herself in time.

  ‘You know I’ve always been a bit outspoken?’

  You don’t say!

  ‘I caused a bit of a fuss by standing up for a local woman. She was being persecuted because she wanted her kids to go to school. Her husband insisted they should work.’ Brigid’s eyes shone with indignation. ‘They were only ten and eight. Really bright too!’

  Vanessa tried to imagine her daughter as a teacher in a school in India; a school that had been set up by a group of British and American parents to educate their own kids and also to encourage local learning. It seemed so responsible! Such a far cry from the angry Goth who had slammed the door on her all those years ago.

  Brigid, however, had changed. She might look like a hippy with tattoos on her arm and the little silver nose ring. But she was so earnest now, talking with passion about women’s rights in a place Vanessa knew nothing about. A place that her daughter had ended up in, apparently, after ‘hooking up’ with some other travellers.