Pastures New

by Margaret Thornton

  ‘Cissie says that Holly has settled down very well at her playgroup,’ Val remarked to Sam soon after Easter. ‘She’s been there since January and she loves it. I wonder if I should try Russell at the playgroup near to us? He’s such an active child and it’s hard to keep him occupied all the time. I know he gets frustrated. Maybe it would be good for him to have children of his own age to play with. Do you think so, Sam?’

  Sam raised his eyebrows. ‘Maybe, maybe not. You can try it if you like. I know you’ve got your hands full with both him and Lucy. But Holly’s such an easy little girl, isn’t she? Not much trouble. That always amazes me when I think about Cissie! I dare say Holly would make friends with anyone. Russell’s quite a different kettle of fish!’

  ‘Oh, Cissie’s OK,’ said Val. ‘She’s much more stable since she married Walter and had the children. I think he’s been good for her, although I had my doubts at first. And she really loves her job at the market … Anyway, it was Russell we were talking about. I’ll give him a try at the playgroup. They take them at two-and-a-half and he’ll be three in September.’

  The playgroup was not the one that Holly attended, and Val was relieved about that. For some reason, Russell liked to taunt Holly, and she was such a sweet-natured little girl. Val didn’t want any trouble with her best friend.

  The playgroup was called Happy Days and was only a few minutes’ walk from their home. It was in a much more pleasant setting than Sunnylands, which was in a Methodist church hall with only a concrete area to play in outside. The helpers had to watch the toddlers continually for fear of grazed knees or worse, so they spent most of the time indoors.

  Happy Days was in a large detached house with an attractive rear garden, equipped with a slide, swings and a sandpit. The owner of the house, Kate Whittaker, had two children under school age, a four-year-old girl and a boy roughly the same age as Russell. She had done the necessary training in childminding, and Val felt that not only would Russell be in safe hands, but that, hopefully, his behaviour would improve. Although she felt guilty for even thinking it – and she wouldn’t dream of saying it to Cissie – the Happy Days playgroup was much more upmarket than Sunnylands with, presumably, children who were biddable and easy to control. Russell might well learn by example.

  He seemed to understand when she and Sam told him he was going to a lovely place where he could play with a lot of other boys and girls.

  ‘There’s a slide and swings and lots of toys,’ Val told him. ‘Some nice ladies to look after you, and I expect they’ll have milk and biscuits like they do at Holly’s playgroup.’

  ‘Like orange juice best,’ he replied.

  ‘Well, I expect they’ll have orange juice as well …’

  ‘Is Holly there?’ He grinned at his mum.

  ‘No, Holly goes to a different place.’

  ‘Are you coming, Mummy?’ He was looking a little puzzled.

  ‘I shall take you and leave you there for the morning,’ she told him. ‘You know, like you go to stay with Grandma sometimes. And then I’ll come and meet you and we’ll go home for lunch. OK, Russell?’

  ‘OK.’ He nodded. ‘Is Lucy coming?’

  ‘Oh, no; Lucy’s only a baby, isn’t she? And you’re a big boy.’

  He nodded again. ‘Bigger than Lucy.’

  He seemed quite contented about it all as he walked at the side of Val, who was pushing the pram. It was the Monday following Easter week. He had been pretty good just lately. There had been Easter eggs from various members of the family and he had enjoyed the treasure hunt that Sam had arranged in their garden, searching for miniature eggs.

  He seemed overwhelmed when Val introduced him to Kate.

  ‘Hello, Russell,’ she said. ‘We’re glad you’ve come to join us. And what a lovely red jumper! Did Mummy make it?’

  He shook his head. ‘No … Grandma.’

  ‘Oh, I see.’ Kate looked a little anxiously at his unsmiling face but realized it was all very new to him. ‘Well, say bye-bye to Mummy and we’ll go and meet some of the other boys and girls … He’ll be OK,’ she added quietly to Val. ‘It’s a bit strange at first. What we do is give them a week to settle down, then we’ll know whether it’s a good idea … or not. As I said, Mrs Walker, he is rather young. My little boy, Gareth, is the same age, so maybe they’ll get on together. Don’t worry; we’ll take good care of him.’

  Val kissed Russell’s cheek. ‘Bye-bye, love. Mummy will see you soon.’

  He didn’t answer, but she was used to his silences when he was not very sure about something. Kate seemed like a very capable person, used to dealing with all sorts of children.

  Val spent an anxious morning wondering how he was going on and whether it had been a good idea. When she went to meet him at half past twelve he was ready and waiting with his coat on, along with several other children.

  ‘Mummy!’ he shouted when he saw her, which gave her a stab of joy and love for him. He could be lovable at times, which helped to convince her that they had done the right thing in adopting him. At other times she was still full of doubts, but she told herself he was sure to improve.

  ‘Has he been a good boy?’ Val asked Kate, making sure that Russell could hear.

  ‘Well … it’s early days, Mrs Walker,’ she replied. ‘As I said, it takes a while to settle down and get used to the other children. But I’m sure he will. Bye-bye, Russell. See you tomorrow.’

  ‘Bye,’ he muttered, holding Val’s hand tightly.

  She decided not to remonstrate with him, although she guessed that things had not gone too well.

  ‘Did you like it?’ she asked when they had walked a fair distance from the house.

  ‘Yes,’ he answered briefly.

  ‘So … what did you do? Did you play with the other boys and girls?’

  ‘Yes. Played in the sand, and the slide, and we had milk and biccies. No orange juice …’

  ‘Oh, well, never mind. Did you drink your milk?’

  He nodded. ‘Don’t like Gareth.’

  ‘Oh dear! Why don’t you like him?’

  ‘Don’t know, just don’t!’

  She decided not to question him any more. He was ready for the fish fingers and mashed potato she prepared when they arrived home. He got down from the table and went over to Lucy as she sat in her high chair.

  ‘Now leave her alone,’ said Val. ‘She’s enjoying her rusk.’

  But to her amazement he stood on his tiptoes and took hold of Lucy’s hand. ‘Like Lucy,’ he said.

  ‘Well … that’s nice!’ said Val, utterly flabbergasted. ‘You’re a good boy, Russell.’

  He was surprisingly good for the rest of the day, but not very willing to tell his daddy much about the playgroup.

  ‘I think there’s something that Kate’s not telling me,’ Val said. ‘I do hope he wasn’t a nuisance. Anyway, we’ll see.’

  The next day, Tuesday, seemed to go all right. Russell went along willingly in the morning, and when Val met him at lunchtime Kate said that he had been much better. ‘I must admit he was a little difficult yesterday,’ she said, ‘but I think we’re winning. We usually do. See you tomorrow, Russell.’

  On Wednesday, however, when Val arrived to collect Russell, he was ready and waiting with his coat on, looking far from happy.

  ‘Hello, Mummy,’ he said in a tiny voice, then he hung his head.

  Mrs Whittaker stood at his side, looking solemn. ‘Could I have a word with you, Mrs Walker?’ she said. ‘Let’s go in here.’

  ‘Just a minute,’ said Val. ‘I’d better get Lucy.’ She went outside to lift the little girl from her pram, then followed Kate into the room that she used as an office.

  ‘Now, Russell,’ said Kate, ‘you sit quietly and look at this book about the three bears while I have a talk to Mummy. Sit down, Mrs Walker. This won’t take very long.’ She looked at Val understandingly, with a faint smile.

  ‘Oh dear!’ said Val, guessing at what she was about to hear. ‘Has he been a nui
sance? I’m so sorry. What has he done?’

  Kate gave a little laugh, although it was clear she was not really amused. ‘What hasn’t he done! I’m sorry, Mrs Walker, but it seems as though Russell is not ready for playgroup, not at the moment. We knew he was rather young, didn’t we? He won’t be three until September, and I’m afraid he’ll have to wait a while before we try him again.’

  ‘But … it’s only been three days,’ said Val. ‘You said he could have a week’s trial.’

  ‘We can tell already that it’s not going to work, not at the moment. He’s disruptive and some of the children are getting upset.’

  To her own embarrassment, Val burst into tears. She shook her head. ‘I’m so sorry. I really thought this would be good for him, mixing with other children. He’s not been an easy child. He was adopted – you probably know the circumstances. We thought we were doing the right thing, my husband and I, although some people did try to warn us.’

  Kate leaned forward and took her hand. ‘Try not to get upset … Valerie, isn’t it?’

  ‘Yes, Val … I’m usually called Val.’

  ‘I remember you adopting Russell,’ said Kate. ‘His parents were killed in a car crash, weren’t they?’ She was speaking quietly and Russell seemed oblivious to their conversation. Val had never known him to be so subdued.

  ‘You’re doing a great job, Val,’ Kate went on. ‘Russell is already toilet trained, and that’s a great achievement. It’s one of our stipulations, you know. And he’s not a messy eater, like so many of them … except that he refuses to drink his milk.’

  ‘What did he do?’

  ‘Well, he spilt it on purpose, I’m sorry to say.’

  Val sighed. ‘And what else?’

  ‘He prefers to throw the sand around rather than making pies! It didn’t go in anyone’s eyes, but you can see that it could be rather dangerous. And he doesn’t like sharing the toys. He listens to stories, though; he seems to enjoy that. But, as I said, Val, it’s too soon. Let’s wait until he’s three. I’m sure there’ll be a big improvement by then.’

  ‘I wish I could feel so sure.’ Val stroked Lucy’s dark hair as she sat on her lap. ‘I suppose there’s been a bit of jealousy since Lucy arrived. She was quite a surprise to us. We’d given up hope of having any children of our own – at least, I had – and then I found out I was expecting Lucy.’

  ‘And now you’ve got a lovely little family,’ said Kate. ‘Russell’s not the only troublesome child in the world, you know. You’ve heard people talk about the “terrible twos”, haven’t you? When they find out that they can say “no!” instead of doing as they’re told. But I’m sorry I have to say no to Russell at this moment. You do understand, don’t you?’

  ‘Only too well,’ replied Val, feeling a little more composed by now but still very ashamed of Russell’s behaviour. ‘Thank you for trying, anyway … Come along, Russell. We’re going home now, and you won’t be coming here again for a while.’

  ‘Goodbye, Russell,’ said Kate. ‘We’ll perhaps see you again when you’re three.’

  ‘Bye,’ muttered Russell. ‘Come on, Mummy. Want to go home.’

  Russell was quiet as they walked home, and Val, deep in thought, did not feel like talking to him. She decided there would be no point in telling him he was a naughty boy or asking him what he had done to make the ladies cross and upset the children. He seemed to have got the message and was suitably abashed, but she doubted this would last very long. Perhaps, as Kate said, he was rather too young and the discipline they had to maintain seemed strange to him. All the same, it was clear that he needed to learn how to get along with children of his own age.

  He ate his lunch of sausage and mash, then played quietly with his cars before watching a children’s TV programme, snuggling close to Val on the settee.

  She met Sam in the hall as he came in from work, before he had time to speak to Russell. ‘Don’t ask him what he did at playgroup. I’m afraid he’s been sacked!’

  Sam laughed. ‘Well, that didn’t last long, did it? Too much for them to handle, was he?’

  ‘It’s not funny, Sam,’ said Val, although she could not help smiling a little. ‘I was really upset when Kate told me; quite ashamed of him. I don’t want people thinking we can’t control him.’

  ‘What did he do?’

  ‘Oh, create mayhem! Throwing sand around, spilling his milk, not sharing the toys …’

  ‘Well, he’s never really had to share, has he? He usually plays on his own; Lucy’s too small to play with him yet.’

  ‘And she’s such a good little girl, isn’t she? I hope he doesn’t make her naughty when she gets older.’

  ‘Now, don’t start anticipating trouble. We’ve just given him a try there. I suppose he can go again later?’

  ‘Yes, when he’s three.’

  ‘Well, that’s not very long; only five months or so.’

  ‘It would be nice to go shopping in peace. He’s quite a handful in the shops, you know.’

  Sam gave her a hug. ‘Well, I think you’re doing splendidly. What’s for tea? I’m starving!’

  ‘Lamb casserole; it’s cooking slowly in the oven. I’ll get the two of them to bed, then we’ll have a nice, peaceful evening. It’s been quite a day.’

  ‘I’ll see to Russell,’ said Sam, ‘while you bath Lucy. I’ll read him a story, and not a word, eh, about his transgressions?’

  ‘No, he’s been pretty good since we got home. Let’s hope he’s learnt a lesson.’

  Val went shopping quite near to their home most mornings of the week. They had a weekly order delivered from the local Co-op but there were not many mornings when she did not need to shop for fresh bread or meat or vegetables. It was a breath of fresh air for her and the children, and she felt that the walk was good for her.

  She could only go to the town of Halifax, down in the valley, when Sam was available to take them in the car. Val was able to drive but it was not possible for her to see to the children and concentrate on her driving at the same time.

  They set off for the local shops on the Friday morning of the week when Russell had started – and left – the playgroup. She had her shopping list so she would not forget anything, as she was likely to do with Russell demanding her attention. She carried a large shopping bag which would fit on to the handle of the pram, and there was room at the end of the pram for some things below Lucy’s feet.

  There was a tempting display of fruit and vegetables outside the greengrocer’s shop for customers to help themselves.

  ‘Oranges, Mummy,’ said Russell, grabbing hold of a large Jaffa.

  ‘Put that down, love,’ she said. ‘You’re not supposed to touch unless you’re buying it.’

  ‘I like oranges …’

  ‘I know you do. We’ll get some of those small ones that are easy to peel, then you won’t get in a mess.’

  She put six tangerines in a bag, then chose some apples and bananas.

  ‘What’s these, Mummy?’ Russell scooped up a handful of garden peas.

  ‘They’re peas. Put them down! I’ve told you not to touch.’

  ‘I like peas …’

  ‘Yes, I know, but we have frozen peas. These need shelling and it takes too much time. We’ll get a cauliflower and some carrots.’

  ‘Don’t like carrots.’

  ‘Well, they’re good for you. My mummy used to tell me that they helped you to see in the dark. Look … you can put some in this bag … That’s a good boy; that’s enough.’ He behaved better when he was occupied and thought he was helping.

  ‘Come on, now; we’ll go in the shop and pay for these things.’

  Lucy was sleeping peacefully, as she did when lulled by the movement of the pram. Val left the pram where she could see it from inside the shop. If she left Russell there he was likely to shake the pram until Lucy woke up. The shopping bag was heavy when she had paid for the fruit and vegetables and she balanced it on the pram handle as they went on to the bakery.


  There was an appetizing aroma of freshly baked bread coming from the baker’s shop. They made most of their own produce, and there was, as usual, a queue of women waiting to be served. She took the shopping bag inside with her, fearing that it might prove too much of a temptation if left on the pram; not everyone in the world was honest.

  There were tempting cakes displayed in the window and on the counter behind the glass partition: almond tarts, jam and lemon tarts and Yorkshire curd tart – Sam’s favorite. Cream cakes, too, iced fondant cakes, Swiss rolls and fruit cakes full of sultanas and cherries.

  Val enjoyed baking her own cakes and had become quite proficient in the years since her marriage. But it was nice, occasionally, to have a special treat made by professionals, such as Mr and Mrs Gregson who owned the bakery.

  Val’s thoughts turned then to Janice and Phil and their plans for their cafe in Harrogate. Janice had rung in great excitement, saying that they had acquired the florist’s shop next door and were extending their business. Janice made superb cakes, such as the ones on sale here. The last Val had heard was that they were planning to start their new venture at the end of May.

  She pulled herself back from her wandering thoughts and glanced out of the window. Lucy, who had been fast asleep, seemed to be stirring. The blanket was moving a little as she kicked her legs. Val hoped she would not wake up fully until she had finished her shopping here.

  Russell was pulling at her sleeve. ‘Look, choccies, Mummy,’ he said, pointing to the rear of the shop. They sold homemade chocolates as well as cakes – delicious fudges, marzipans, creams and pralines, caramels and nougats, all covered in plain, milk and white chocolate, to be chosen individually and packed in special white and gold cartons.

  ‘Yes, I know, Russell,’ said Val, ‘but they’re not for children. They’re for grown-ups and they’re very expensive …’ Occasionally she had indulged in a few, and sometimes Sam bought them for her.

  ‘See, Russell – you can choose a cake for your tea. What about one of those pink ones with a cherry on top?’