by Julia Kelly
‘Maybe take off his Superman suit?’ Ruth offered.
‘What about juice?’ I said, adding my twopence-worth, worried that the party might be broken up before we’d even had cake. ‘You know Addie’s always in much better form after she’s had a number two.’ I couldn’t believe that I was now coming out with sentences like this.
‘Do you have Milk of Magnesia?’ Sumita turned in her chair to ask me.
‘Or even just some warm water?’ Ruth suggested.
‘If you rub your finger around his anus, and massage his sphincter muscle—’ Irenka said from where she was sitting on the sofa, spinning her own finger in a clockwise direction, while sinking her teeth into a piece of coffee and walnut cake.
‘Would you not be arrested for that?’ I said. No one laughed.
I went into the kitchen to see what I could give him and found Ruth opening and closing cupboards one by one, moving packets around, taking stuff out, sniffing at it, turning boxes on their sides to read their contents. Ruby was trailing her, whimpering.
‘A-ha, peanut butter,’ she said, holding a jar that Joy had left when she’d moved out.
‘Oh, good. She likes that?’ I said, shadowing her now too.
‘Mmm, yes, but this is the wrong sort,’ she said, studying the label. ‘Crunchy. Ruby won’t touch it. She only eats smooth.’
I flustered about the place, pouring wine, making small-talk, getting everyone to sit. On the whole, it seemed to be going well but I was already looking forward to the evening when it would be over and the enjoyable phase of remembering it and analysing it and playing with Addie’s new presents would begin.
I hadn’t witnessed the offence but Ruth grabbed Ruby by the arm and dragged her over to the corner of the room, wagging her finger and spitting intense, private threats and reminders of earlier deals (‘What did Mummy say? Remember that surprise? What surprise was Daddy going to bring you?’). Then she was upright again, composing herself, straightening her blouse, her voice restored to the light, pleasant tone of the polite guest.
Ben, who until this moment had been sitting beside me, sucking apple juice through a straw with great concentration, oblivious of everything, now paused and turned to me, his eyebrows arched in consternation: ‘I have all the Superman stuff, so why am I not Superman?’
I drew the curtain in the sitting room, switched off the light. Everyone squeezed into the small room together and sang ‘Happy Birthday’ and for that moment, for the five seconds it took to get through the song, everyone was united, the feeling was of love for my small child, sitting bashful and proud at the top of the table. She blew out all her candles with great, saliva-filled efforts, then sat back and waved at her fans as they cheered.
‘No, Ruby!’ Addie said, as the little girl tried to get her fingers around the first piece of cake. ‘I’m saving that one for my dada.’
There were a few raised eyebrows, snatched glances, chewed lips.
‘Sweetheart,’ I said, bending down beside her, feeling the eyes of all the mums on me. ‘Remember I told you that your dada lives in another country now?’ I put my arm around the back of her chair.
She listened and nodded and squished a chocolate star into the wood of the kitchen table with her finger.
‘He’s not able to see you any more and he can’t come to your birthday, but he still loves you very much, OK?’
‘But what about my pink Furby with the purple ears?’
‘Let’s ask Santa for that Furby, OK?’ I said, kissing her on the forehead and getting up.
‘OK,’ she said, not looking at me.
*
It was the right time to take the party to the playground; the kids were high on sugar; Addie had her foot in my carrot cake; flatulence was filling up the room, making everyone a bit depressed. Several children had been swept off their feet and lifted into the air in a process of elimination but it was Ben, who still needed a poo. At one stage, all the kids were crying; we needed to get out.
There was an odd moment at the doorstep. I was waiting for everyone to get out so I could lock up but they all seemed to be stalling. It was Ruby who in the end reminded me, her mother shushing her as she forced her into her coat, that I’d forgotten their party bags.
*
‘Which hand?’ I said, teasing her, fists clenched behind my back. She was disgusted with the sparkly bouncy ball I presented – Charlotte didn’t want hers either and handed it back. Sophie asked if Ben could have bubbles instead.
We set out in the damp November air, an untidy group of put-upon mothers – several running back to their cars for bottles, baby wipes, coats – and scattering kids: Ben on Addie’s new bike, Rashi, bouncing along on her Space Hopper, the girls all bossy and busy with their dollies and buggies, everyone flustered and tiring.
I was embarrassed that Sophie and I were wearing almost identical navy-blue duffle coats. I’d owned mine for quite a few weeks but so far I’d only worn it in parts of Dublin where I thought it unlikely that I would bump into Sophie, having blatantly copied her. As soon as Addie saw her in it she said ‘My mama has dus the same coat’ so there was no longer any point in pretending. If she asked I’d say it was an early Christmas present from my mother and just an amazing coincidence. It was irritating that the same coat could make one woman look Parisian and cute, yet another, kind of simple and a tiny bit musty.
I had to sort of shunt Addie along the path ahead of me as I was carrying a dozen multicoloured Chinese lanterns in one hand and three bottles of Prosecco in a Tesco bag in the other. Mum had dropped them around before she’d set off on her latest trip. I’d also packed a bottle of water in case things didn’t go to plan.
I’d bought the lanterns on Amazon for nearly nothing – the Disney movie Tangled had inspired me. And the conditions were perfect that evening; there was almost no wind and the drizzle had eased. I couldn’t wait for Addie to see them lit up in the night sky.
I gave a quick salute to Mr Norman who was outside his house, coiling up a garden hose, and a casual shout to Dylan and Juliette. He was sitting cross-legged on the ground near the gardener’s hut, playing his guitar; she was lying on his leather jacket beside him, head in her hands, humming along. I was pretending I knew my neighbours a lot better than I did. I waved at Jayani, the little Sri Lankan girl, who’d got some new rollerblades and seemed to have somehow sprouted breasts since Hallowe’en. She gave me a shy smile then thumped along the path behind her mother, complaining that her training bra was digging into her. I even smiled at the skinny boy from number three, who gave me a cursory nod, grabbed his football and ran.
I strode along with my gang and soon we had engulfed the place, hovering a little too near the swings while we waited for a child to finish her go. Addie was always cautious at the playground. She found the slide too high, she wouldn’t stay on the see-saw for more than two seconds and the swings frightened her since that first time, when I accidently pushed her off. She liked to throw stones in the thing that spun round and round but would never dare sit in it herself. Today she was different. Today she was showing off her domain. She charged up the slide the wrong way, dangled off the monkey bars, ran screaming through thick layers of dead leaves.
Sophie disappeared behind a tree with Ben. All of us took envious little peeks at her toned backside as she bent to help him. A relieved and somewhat lighter looking child emerged minutes later. Then Charlotte threw up on the see-saw. ‘She’s been eating sweets since Hallowe’en night,’ Irenka said, mopping up the vomit with baby wipes proffered by Sophie. Ruby slipped and fell playing hopscotch and everyone got dog dirt on their shoes.
It was getting dark though it wasn’t quite five o’clock; trees were silhouetted against the backs of houses around the square. Cars sped by on the road outside, their lights momentarily illuminating the railings and the smoky grey of the park. The children’s faces were no longer clearly visible, they were identifiable now by their bright coats, their shouts and by the trainers some of them wo
re, that lit up when they ran.
I laid the lanterns out on the grass and told the kids to stand well away. They were immediately compliant, stepping backwards in a huddle, their faces curious and expectant, Ruby bursting, her hand clenched between her legs, but not wanting to miss a thing.
Sophie and Sumita helped me to remove all the packaging, Irenka had already gone home – she’d been opposed to the idea from the start because a permit was required to use Chinese lanterns in a public place apparently and because her back was at her again. She’d sent Donal over in her place; if I were going to carry out an illegal act, she was adamant that a responsible person, such as her husband, oversee it. I could sense her surveying proceedings from her bed, moving this way and that on her bony bum to get the best vantage point in the fading light, just willing something to go wrong so she could say ‘see what I’m telling to you’. The other person watching us that evening was Billy Flynn. I hadn’t noticed him until that moment, but there he was, sitting with his legs dangling over the edge of the tree house, as though he were about to jump.
Donal hovered above me, desperate to take over, feeling that this was a man’s job. The first two lanterns tore, to general groans and offers of help, but I tried again with a third. I was determined to launch one myself. I lit the little candle at the bottom of a neon-pink one and waited a few moments while the flame took.
‘This one’s for you, Addie!’ I shouted as I stood and let it go. We watched it float straight up until it found an air-stream and took off high above the roof tops of the square and away. I was moved almost to tears by the beauty of the moment.
‘Aw, but I wanted the silver one,’ Addie said, arms folded beside me, looking furious. ‘Bemember? Silver’s my favourite colour.’
‘OK, little madam. Give me a moment.’ I lit and launched a silver one, this time with a little more panache.
‘Sail on, silver girl!’ I said as it took flight.
‘Sail on by,’ Donal had begun beside me. ‘Your time has come to shine, all your dreams are on their way.’ God, how could Irenka tolerate it? He turned everything you said into a song.
We sent the rest of them into the night one by one and gazed at the beautiful, multicoloured display that danced above us in the darkness. The kids were shrieking, arguing about which one was theirs, which was going highest, running through the grass to keep up with their progress until they lost sight of them. One veered badly off course, brushed against Ruth’s hair – more hairspray than hair as it turned out – and set it alight. She jumped about screaming, patting her head, mortified. This energised the kids further.
I hadn’t seen her arrive but Joy had joined the celebrations. She was crouched behind Addie, embracing her, face turned skyward and silent. ‘Look, Ben, aren’t they just magical?’ Sophie said, standing beside them, her hands clasped around her little boy’s shoulders.
Belinda arrived with a jug of orange squash and a bowl of cocktail sausages, apologising for being late for her shift. ‘I’m after missing them all, amn’t I?’ she said, putting everything on the picnic table. ‘I saw one go over the roof of the library on my way out. Beautiful so it was.’ Hands on hips, she turned around and scanned the park for her son. ‘Would you ever get down from there and give us a hand?’ she shouted when she saw Billy in the tree house. He lunged forwards, tumbled as he landed and slouched over to his mother who made him pass the cocktail sausages around.
Sophie popped open the bottles of Prosecco, Sumita gave everyone plastic cups. ‘Happy birthday again, Addie! Cheers!’ I said holding up my cup then stretching over to clink cups with all of my guests, spilling half of mine as I did. I was giddy, tipsy, getting on with everyone.
‘I’m after forgetting your birthday present, little lady,’ Belinda said, grabbing Addie around the waist and giving her an affectionate shake.
‘What was it anyway?’
‘A tray of cyclamen bulbs.’
‘Huh?’ Addie looked up at me, smiling, shy.
‘Now, I’ve got a very important question for you, Addie – do you think you could mind them for me and help them to grow? I heard from your mam that you’re a bit of a green fingers, is that right?’
‘Yep, I’m the bestest at doing that.’
‘No direct sunlight, not too much water and feed them every two weeks, OK?’
‘I already know that! You don’t have to tell me.’ Addie said, proud of the responsibility being bestowed on her.
*
I strode along the path with a black bin bag chatting to Sumita as she helped me clean up. ‘I’m still asking everyone I can think of about childminding jobs for you,’ I told her as we worked.
She looked up at me, smiling and bashful. ‘Thank you, that’s very kind. Rashi tells me every day, “I want a baby, I want a big house, I want a car”, but how can I give her these things?’
To our amazement Billy appeared to be helping us; he’d put the empty Prosecco bottles in the recycling bin and had carefully collected all the used lighters.
Seeing her son usefully employed, Belinda nipped back home with the empty bowls and to get the cyclamen bulbs for Addie who couldn’t wait till tomorrow to receive her birthday gift as had been suggested.
*
What sounded at first like Juliette’s laugh was in fact her scream. Billy had snuck up on her and Dylan where they’d been kissing by the gardener’s shed. He’d tried to set Juliette’s hair on fire. Dylan noticed too soon, before it took hold. ‘Would you ever just fuck off and leave her alone?’ he said, taking off his scarf and pressing it against the back of his girlfriend’s head.
‘What is your fucking problem anyway?’ Juliette said, examining the singed ends of her highlighted hair.
*
Now Billy was chasing the smaller kids, catching up with them and flicking the lighter in their frightened faces. I thought a game of Hide and Seek might help to restore calm and bore Billy back indoors. Of course Joy wouldn’t have approved of it, but she wasn’t a mother, so what did she know? It was the perfect way to get a few moments peace. Addie had been hanging off me whining, pulling at my arm, wanting me to bring her home; but I still had some cleaning up to do. I’d also promised Sophie I’d look after Ben while she went home to oversee Lauren’s school project on autumn which had to be in the next day. Donal had taken Charlotte home to bed and before she’d left, Ruth had finally lost it with Ruby. She’d grabbed her daughter by the elbow, lifting her off her feet, and had smacked her hard on the backside before carrying her back to their car. We’d all chewed on our lips, said nothing.
‘Oh, listen, you’re not going to believe this,’ Sophie said, as she knelt to pull up the zipper of Ben’s coat over his costume, ‘but I thought that stuff you gave me for my birthday was honey! I spread it on my toast. It was Lauren who said, “It’s for the bath, Mummy.” Ugh. I couldn’t get rid of that soapy taste for hours. God, it was disgusting.’ She told Ben to be good and she was gone. Joy joined her at the gate and they walked away together.
*
I began counting absent-mindedly as the children ran and hid, watching through spread fingers to be sure that no one was heading for the gates and that my little girl was safe. She was fully visible behind a sapling, standing as still as she could. Ben was making slow progress up the steps to the tree house. Rashi was running back and forth, holding her mother’s hand, between the oak tree and the picnic table, unable to decide where to hide. Billy seemed to have joined in too – he’d followed Ben to the tree house and was hurrying him up by shoving him in the backside as he stood on the ladder behind him. I carried on counting to give Rashi and Sumita a little more time. Why had Joy left with Sophie? I wondered when she’d be leaving Bray for good to begin her new job. No doubt she’d been bitching to her all about my abandoning poor Alfie, and Sophie as a dog lover would not have been impressed. ‘But he was so good with kids,’ I could imagine her saying. ‘And it’s not like he ever even bit anyone or anything like Buddy has.’
; ‘Ready or not, here I come!’ I set off in a self-conscious jog towards a chestnut tree I knew no one was behind and pretended I’d found Addie there. She started shouting for me, still not understanding the game. I headed for the picnic table as if I hadn’t heard her. I thought of Billy watching me from where he was hiding with Ben, a hulking sixteen year old crouched down and waiting to be discovered. I felt sad for him – even his silly prank with the lighter was a way of trying to fit in – he’d seen our reaction to Ruth’s hair being set alight, he probably thought we’d all find it funny again. I turned around and began jogging towards the tree house. That’s when I saw the flames.
The tree house was on fire.
‘Oh God, Ben! Billy!’ I shouted as I ran towards them.
They had both got down the ladder; Billy was yelling ‘Stop, drop, roll. Go on do it. I seen it on TV!’ Ben was beside him, utterly silent and still, his little arms outstretched, his white hair illuminated by the flames climbing his legs. He was too shocked to move. Before I could reach them, Billy shoved Ben, the flames dying as he hit the ground and rolled over.
‘Mama!’
‘Stay away, Addie. I mean it! Billy, get Sophie!’
Billy ran, Sumita rang 999. I lifted Ben and carried him across the path, away from the burning timber falling from the tree house behind us. He was quiet in my arms; he didn’t cry or scream as I lay him on the grass. His Superman costume was charred and had stuck to him on both legs from the knee down.
Now everyone around us was shouting, running, coughing through smoke in the darkness. Donal and Dylan doused what remained of the tree house with saucepans full of cold water. ‘What’s after happening? Ah, Lord, you poor little man!’ Belinda got down beside us and poured a bottle of water over his legs, her bulbs for Addie upturned on the grass beside where she knelt. ‘I’m going to try to cool you down, honey.’
‘Jesus Christ!’ Sophie screamed, trembling, sobbing, when she saw what had happened to her son. ‘My poor, poor baby.’ She sat on the ground, nestled his head in her lap and rubbed her hand across his forehead again and again.