Mummyfesto, The
Page 6
There was an awkward silence around the table. I suspected they thought I was being wildly idealistic and far too confrontational. But they had also heard the catch in my voice so they didn’t like to say so.
‘I understand your frustration, Sam,’ said Simon. ‘And I’m not saying we shouldn’t make our voice heard on the matter. But we’ve also got to be careful not to appear to be politically motivated, especially so close to a general election.’
I nodded, although I didn’t see what was political about wanting the best for dying children.
‘How much are we down on fundraising this year?’ asked Chris, one of the nurses.
‘We haven’t got the exact figures yet, but it will be in the region of 5 to 10 per cent.’
Another silence. We’d broken all records on fundraising the previous year. To come up with any increase on that was going to be difficult. Especially at a time when everyone was so stretched.
‘I’ll schedule a meeting next week to discuss the fundraising situation in more detail,’ said Simon. ‘I’ve asked Alice and Denise to present us with a report and some suggestions, but the more ideas anyone can bring to the table the better. Thank you all. And sorry to be the bearer of bad news.’ Simon rose and left the room. He was as gutted as anyone, I knew that. He was simply a damned sight better than me at remaining dignified and composed in such situations.
I walked back along the corridor with Marie.
‘Oh well, it could have been worse,’ she said.
‘Could it?’
‘No, not really but I thought I’d better do the British stiff-upper-lip thing.’
I smiled at her. ‘As opposed to my hysterical ranting, you mean?’
‘I guess the rest of us are just resigned to the fact that there’s nothing we can do about it.’
‘I don’t agree. There’s always something you can do.’
Marie stopped outside her office. ‘Were you like this as a teenager?’ she asked, still smiling.
‘Like what?’
‘Believing you could make a difference. Make the world a better place.’
‘Yeah. That’s what comes of having hippy parents, I guess. I suppose it’s why I wanted to be a journalist as well. Although it took a while for me to work out that the people running local newspapers weren’t interested in challenging stuff like that. But look where I ended up working. Look at what goes on here. How you guys make such a difference.’
‘In a small way, yes. But only in the lives of the people we touch. Outside that we can’t change anything. We’re the little guys who get kicked. We can’t kick back.’
‘That’s why the politicians get away with all this crap. Because people don’t understand the power they have.’
Marie shook her head. ‘I guess the rest of us were brought up to toe the line.’
‘Well I’ll have to teach you how to kick ass sometime.’
‘That,’ said Marie, with her hand on my shoulder, ‘might come in very useful.’
I carried on along the corridor, past the glass memory wall, each block engraved with the name of a child who was no longer with us, and on to my little office.
I switched on my computer, the screensaver photo of Zach and Oscar making me smile as it always did, but making me angry as well. People shouldn’t have to fight for their children to have somewhere comfortable and dignified to die. They just shouldn’t. I opened up the spring newsletter I’d been working on the previous week. That was the only trouble with working school hours, you never seemed to actually get anything finished in a day. Half past two had a habit of coming around very quickly indeed.
I’d been working on the fundraising page: tales of people sky-diving, shaving their heads, running half-marathons, all to raise some precious extra pounds for us. It suddenly struck me as ridiculous. People wouldn’t have their operations cancelled because not enough people had shaved their heads to pay for it. And yet here we were, possibly having to reduce the amount of respite care we could offer for the very same reason. It was obscene. Actually obscene.
My mobile rang. I fumbled in my bag and pulled it out. I felt my body relax as I saw it wasn’t the school’s number. It wasn’t a number in my address book.
‘Hello. Sam Farnell.’
‘Oh, hi. It’s Georgina from Calendar. I just wanted to congratulate you on your victory.’
‘Sorry?’
‘Haven’t you heard? The council backed down at their meeting last night. They voted to scrap the plans to make the school crossing patrol people redundant. Said they’d try to find savings from elsewhere instead.’
‘But that’s fantastic. I can’t believe it.’
‘Sounds like your protest had quite an impact. Everyone seemed to have seen it. And the petition too. Two thousand signatures was amazing.’ I was glad Georgina couldn’t see me as I danced a jig of delight around the office.
‘Thanks for letting me know. And thank you so much for coming to film us.’
‘Glad to have helped. Actually, the reason I called was to see if you could come on the programme tonight.’
‘What, outside the school or something?’
‘No, here in the studio. The producer would like Fiona to interview you. You and your two friends who organised it all. And Shirley, of course. Would that be OK?’
‘Yes,’ I said, ‘I mean I’ll have to ask the others and we’ll need to sort out childcare and everything. Well, obviously not Shirley, but …’ I was aware from the silence on the other end of the phone that I was blithering like an idiot. ‘I’m sure it will be fine. We’ll make it.’
‘Great. Can we send a cab to pick you all up for 4.30? Is outside the school OK?’
‘Yes, that’ll be fine. Thank you.’
‘Brilliant. I’ll see you later then.’
I put my mobile down, shut the door and did the ‘woohoo’ bit from Blur’s ‘Song 2’ very loudly indeed.
It felt rather like an Olympic homecoming when I arrived at school that afternoon. Fortunately they had stopped short of laying on an open-top bus procession but there was a crowd of cheering parents and someone had hung a ‘well done’ banner across the school gates.
Shirley was the first person who came up to me. She took me by the hand and started patting it. Her mouth opened and closed, but no sound came out. So she threw her arms around me and gave me an enormous hug instead. I understood then why Oscar liked them so much. She was a particularly good hugger.
‘I can’t begin to thank you enough,’ she said eventually, looking up, her eyes moist and glistening.
‘Don’t be daft. You keep our children safe. It was the least we could do.’
‘Well, I’m touched. I really am. I never thought anyone would do owt for me like this.’
‘And are you all set for your TV appearance tonight?’
‘I went straight to hairdressers after school rang me. Do you like colour?’ Shirley stroked her short wavy hair, which now had a golden tint to it.
‘You’ll knock them dead.’ I smiled. ‘Now I’d better let you get on with your job. Can’t have you slacking after all this effort, can we?’
Shirley trotted off with her lollipop stick, accepting the congratulations and good wishes from other parents as she went. I turned around to see Anna standing next to me. The normally super-cool, demure Anna looked fit to burst.
‘We did it,’ she said, her voice at least an octave higher than usual.
‘I know,’ I said, giving her a hug. ‘I still can’t quite believe it.’
‘Why not? You masterminded the whole thing.’
‘Don’t be silly. You’re the one who got half of those signatures on the petition. It was teamwork, that’s what it was.’
We were almost knocked off our feet as Jackie bowled into us.
‘Group hug,’ she shouted, attempting to bounce us up and down in some kind of football team-style celebration dance. Anna looked horrified for a second then appeared to decide to go with the flow.
‘
It was the loudhailer wot won it.’ Jackie grinned.
‘No. Mum power,’ I said. ‘Nothing as scary as a bunch of women fighting for their kids.’
I squeezed Jackie’s shoulder, sensing how deeply she was feeling this.
‘Are you sure Paul’s OK to have the kids?’
‘Absolutely no problem. He’s going to be home by four at the latest.’
‘Rob will come straight round to get the boys after work.’
‘And Will’s going to pick up Esme on his way home,’ said Anna.
‘Brilliant,’ said Jackie. ‘Sounds like we’ll have time for a celebratory drink when we get back from Leeds.’
‘Now that is being optimistic,’ I said.
The main doors opened and the children streamed out into the playground. Judging by the looks on their faces, they’d already been told.
‘You did it,’ said Zach, running up to me and jumping up and down. ‘You saved Shirley’s job.’
‘No,’ I corrected, as Oscar zoomed up to us, ‘you did. You and Oscar. It was your idea after all. And all the other children who took part in the protest and signed the petition. It was a team effort.’
‘Is it because of what I said on TV about not wanting to get splatted like Flat Stanley?’ Oscar asked.
‘Yes, love. That helped. You all helped. You made the people in charge at the council realise that it wasn’t a good idea at all.’
‘Will we get medals?’ asked Oscar.
‘Yes, like in The Railway Children,’ said Zach. ‘They got medals for saving people’s lives.’
‘I’m afraid not,’ I said. ‘The council don’t give out medals.’
‘They could give us a Lego set instead,’ said Oscar. ‘I wouldn’t mind.’
I smiled and shook my head. Thinking how much Rob would laugh when I told him later.
We sat in the green room at Yorkshire Television with a local businessman who was bucking the trend by doubling his workforce and a teenager who was going to be playing the ukulele on Britain’s Got Talent. I guessed it was that kind of a news day.
‘Ooh, it’s right posh, in’t it?’ said Shirley, stroking the plush chair seats.
‘Would you like a drink?’ I asked her. ‘They’ve got still and sparkling water.’
‘I’ve never had sparkling water. I think I’ll give it a whirl. Live it up a bit.’ I smiled at Anna as she passed the bottle.
‘I’m wishing I hadn’t told people on Twitter and Facebook I was going to be on TV now,’ Anna said. ‘It’s bad enough trying not to think about everyone at home watching, let alone all the mummybloggers as well.’
‘You mean we’re going to go viral?’ asked Jackie.
‘I don’t know about that but I expect there’ll be a fair few watching it online later and retweeting the link.’
‘Oh God. Now I’m nervous,’ I said. ‘I’d been imagining Oscar and Zach as the only audience.’
A young woman poked her head around the door. ‘OK, ladies,’ she said. ‘If you can follow me through to the studio. You’re the lead item on the programme.’
‘Lead?’ whispered Anna. ‘I thought we’d be the And Finally spot.’
‘What do you think the ukulele kid’s doing here?’ I whispered back.
We took our seats on the sofas. Shirley waved at Fiona and Derek the presenters as if she were a lifelong friend. Derek, very sweetly, waved back. The bright studio lights glared down on us. I looked down at my DMs, aware they were not the normal attire for sofa-TV interviews. They looked even worse sandwiched between Jackie’s trendy wedges and Anna’s sleek courts. I glanced across at Jackie. I didn’t think I’d ever seen her nervous before. As the countdown to air began, all I hoped was that we wouldn’t make complete fools of ourselves.
‘Hello everyone,’ boomed Derek. ‘Welcome to Calendar with Derek Masters and Fiona Gould. Here’s what’s making the headlines this Tuesday evening.’
‘Saved from the axe,’ said Fiona. ‘The lollipop ladies across Calderdale whose jobs have been saved by parent power.’
I grinned at Jackie as Fiona and Derek continued with the rest of the headlines. We’d made a difference. We really had.
‘Now,’ said Fiona, sitting down on the sofa next to us after they’d run a report showing clips of the stop the traffic protest and an interview with the council leader who insisted, of course, on talking about school-crossing-patrol personnel rather than lollipop ladies, ‘we have with us in the studio the three women behind this campaign and the lollipop lady who inspired it. Shirley, had you any idea how much you meant to the pupils and parents at your school?’
‘Not a jot,’ replied Shirley. ‘I mean they’re all lovely to me and the children give me hugs and that but I were gobsmacked when they told me what they were planning to do. And when I saw the turnout on day of protest, well …’ Shirley’s voice trailed off. She turned to smile at us. I swallowed hard.
‘So, Sam,’ said Fiona, ‘it was your sons who gave you the idea for this campaign, wasn’t it?’ I resisted the fleeting temptation to give one of those little mum waves to the children watching at home and attempted to sound über cool.
‘That’s right. As soon as Oscar and Zach found out about the plans to get rid of Shirley they said we had to do something, and they were right. You can’t just stand by and watch things like this happen.’
‘Now, Jackie, we saw you in the clip there marshalling the troops with your loudhailer. Had you done anything like this before?’
‘Not really. I’d been on political protests as a student, but I’d never organised something as personal as this, something where children’s lives and people’s jobs were at stake.’
‘And Anna, were you surprised that a bunch of angry mums could actually force the council to do a U-turn?’
‘Not really, no. Hell hath no fury like a woman whose child is in danger. There’s no greater motivation to do something and therefore there’s no limit to what parents like us can achieve.’
Fiona appeared a little taken aback by Anna’s assertion. She wasn’t the only one.
‘But you heard what the council leader said in our report. They’re going to have to find the savings needed from elsewhere now.’
Jackie jumped in to answer before I could open my mouth to say anything.
‘Unfortunately this has all been caused by the government cutbacks, but what we’ve got to ensure is that politicians of all parties have the right priorities when making difficult decisions. And I think we’ve shown them that no one puts children in danger without having an enormous fight on their hands.’
‘So what next?’ asked Fiona, turning back to me. ‘Having won this battle do you fancy trying something a bit bigger? There’s a general election coming up in a couple of months, do you fancy having a go at sorting the country’s problems out as well?’
I glanced across at Anna and Jackie, still marvelling at how eloquently they’d put our case. They were fired up, I could see that. Almost as fired up as me.
‘Why not?’ I said. ‘I think we could make a damn sight better job of it than some politicians.’
‘There you go,’ said Fiona, ‘sounds like it’s a case of watch this space. Well done, all of you. Back to you, Derek.’
The producer had already briefed us to stay seated on the sofa until they went to the next report. To be honest she needn’t have bothered. I suspected I was not the only one who was incapable of moving.
Jackie stared at me with a questioning frown. Anna had the scared eyes of one of those passers-by who are caught up in some kind of political riot they never meant to get involved with. And here we were, effectively kettled on the Calendar sofa, everyone’s brains whizzing a bit too much for their own liking. Only Shirley provided a picture of serenity as she gazed dreamily at Derek.
We were given our cue to make a swift exit and passed the businessman with the booming company in the corridor as he made his way to the studio.
‘Great stuff,’ he said, putting his thumb up
in a rather awkward fashion. ‘Really inspiring. I’d certainly vote for you.’
‘Thank you.’ I smiled, aware that the others were looking at me as if I’d finally lost the plot.
‘Well you kept that quiet,’ said Jackie with a smirk, as we waited while Shirley popped to the ladies.
‘What?’
‘The fact that you were planning to declare we were standing in the general election.’
‘I didn’t know she was going to ask the question, did I?’
‘I take it you were joking,’ said Anna.
I thought long and hard before I answered. ‘No,’ I said. ‘I don’t think I was.’
Zach and Oscar were both in bed by the time I got home. Oscar had apparently declared himself far too excited about seeing me on TV to possibly go to sleep, but had succumbed nonetheless. Zach was still awake though. He never went to sleep until I was home, not that I went out that much. It was like some strange role reversal of an anxious parent listening out for their teenager’s key in the door.
His head lifted as soon as I opened his bedroom door a crack.
‘Night-night, love,’ I whispered, bending to kiss him softly on the forehead.
‘You were brilliant, Mummy,’ he said, his arms around my neck pulling me closer.
‘Thank you, sweetheart.’
‘Oscar was really happy that you said our names.’
‘Good. I had to, didn’t I? It was all your idea.’
‘Are you going to sort out the country’s problems now, like the lady said?’
I smiled. ‘I don’t know, sweetie. I’d love to but I don’t want anything to get in the way of being mummy to you and Oscar. That’s my most important job.’
‘We don’t mind. We’d share you for a bit. So you can help other people.’
‘That’s really kind of you, love,’ I said, stroking his hair. ‘I’m not sure I’ll be able to do it, though. I’d have to stand for election and get lots of people to vote for me. Thousands of them.’
‘I’d vote for you.’
‘I know you would. Unfortunately you can’t vote until you’re eighteen, though.’
‘Well, I’d get grownups to vote for you, then. I’d explain how you’re good at helping people.’