Happy Birthday and All That

by Rebecca Smith

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘Well, she’s not pregnant any more. She’s had the baby. I found out through a Fathers’ Day card Frank had left in his pocket. Apparently he and Melody …’

  ‘Posy, no!’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘That is disgusting. How could he?’

  ‘Er. I don’t know. He says they only did it once.’

  ‘What? Well that’s hardly the point.’

  ‘No. It seems that it’s a girl. Called Francesca.’

  ‘Oh my God. I just can’t believe this. I mean, I know things haven’t always been great between you two …’

  ‘Well I thought they were more or less OK. I thought we were just tired and struggling a bit.’

  ‘What are you going to do?’

  ‘I don’t know.’ Posy was crying now. ‘What am I meant to do? Send an “It’s a Girl” card? Pass on the baby clothes? There is no solution. Look, I know you have to go.’

  ‘I don’t.’

  ‘Come round later. I can’t face saying any more about it now.’

  ‘OK. I just can’t believe this.’

  ‘Nor could I. And it’s all so tacky,’ Posy said between sobs.

  ‘I love you. I’ll see you later.’

  Flora arrived with very many John Lewis bags. She hugged Posy for a long time. Posy started to cry. Flora kissed her hair. Smoothed it back from her teary face. Posy wiped her nose and eyes on a bit of kitchen roll.

  ‘You look about twelve.’

  ‘I feel about twelve. Or a hundred and twelve. I wish I didn’t have any feelings. I haven’t told anyone else. I feel so ashamed.’

  ‘Posy! You aren’t the one to feel ashamed! You haven’t done anything.’

  ‘I’ve let it all go wrong.’

  ‘Absolutely not.’

  ‘How do I hold my head up in the playground? What are the children going to feel like?’

  ‘You can’t be the first person this has happened to.’

  ‘The first one that I know.’

  ‘You don’t have to tell anyone anything. Just say nothing. Or say you split up and can’t talk about it.’

  ‘We haven’t actually split up yet.’

  ‘Can you forgive him?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Live with it and make it work?’

  ‘I can’t think. I don’t know what I want, except for it never to have happened.’

  ‘Mmm,’ Flora nodded.

  ‘My main feeling towards him at the moment is murderousness. You could take out a contract on him for me. That would be a perfect solution. If I could go back in time and vaporise him when we were students … but the kids. What am I meant to do? It’s their so-called daddy. I can’t decide on the extent to which I should poison their love for him.’

  ‘Mmm.’

  ‘I look at the boys and I think, I hope you don’t turn out anything like him.’

  ‘Oh I just can’t believe this. It’s awful.’

  ‘So awful.’

  ‘I’m glad the house is all yours. Maybe you should throw all of his stuff out of the windows.’

  ‘He doesn’t even have any decent clothes for me to slash. He probably wouldn’t even notice. And he’s hardly got any stuff. He just doesn’t have much. Only what students have, records, books and his instruments. Everything else seems like mine or the kids’. I can’t bear to tell them. What do I say? “Oh Daddy thought you weren’t good enough so he is starting another family with another new baby and a person called Melody”?’

  ‘Oh Posy!’

  ‘Well, at least Francesca will grow up in a Sure Start Area … In a way it bloody serves him right. He hates the newborn phase. Or perhaps he’s missed that. I don’t know what he’s doing. I don’t know how often he sees them. I don’t think he’s faced up to any of this. He doesn’t know what to do. I think he wants me to make some sort of decision so he doesn’t have to.’

  ‘Typical.’

  ‘But I don’t see why I should give him that luxury. I don’t know what’s best anyway. Except for none of this to have happened.’

  ‘I don’t think I can ever talk to him again. Oh Posy, how could he? He had everything.’

  ‘I think he thought it was nothing.’

  ‘Look, I’ll make us some tea.’

  ‘I’ll sit here and sniff.’

  Flora was soon back with the teapot and some mugs on a tray. Posy had tried to pull herself together and was standing looking out of the window at the Common.

  ‘And what does Frank say?’ Flora asked.

  ‘Nothing.’

  ‘A car crash is the best idea. A freak accident with the amp. Or push him off a cliff. The balcony of a Weston tower block.’

  ‘I don’t know if they have balconies. A baby in Weston with no garden.’

  ‘Don’t start feeling sorry for them.’

  ‘It’s awful for everyone.’

  ‘But mostly for you.’

  ‘Does Frank love her? Is he in love?’

  ‘I think he’s incapable.’

  ‘Had he been seeing her for a long time?’

  ‘He said it only happened once. I really don’t know what has been going on or what to believe. My life wasn’t meant to turn out like this.’

  ‘It hasn’t turned out yet. Anyway, stupid messy things happen even in Jane Austen.’

  ‘I really don’t think anything good can come of this.’ It wasn’t something that she could blink into non-existence or rationalise away.

  ‘No,’ said Flora.

  ‘Well a baby has. Does that make it somehow good?’

  ‘Posy, your judgement about babies is really warped.’

  ‘Umm. I just can’t think of this baby being related to mine. It’s unthinkable. She even has a nice name.’

  ‘Calling her Francesca was a low shot. Blackmail. This Melody must really want him.’

  ‘Maybe she can have him. If it wasn’t for the children … I don’t know what’s best for them. I don’t even know what Frank wants, if anything. Posy, Melody - what’s the difference? Two stupid names. I almost don’t care.’ She was crying again. ‘All of our slipping-down flakiness is revealed. We can’t pretend to be a proper family any more.’

  ‘Come here. Sit down,’ Flora led her to the sofa. ‘You might as well cry. Oh how could he do this to you? Beautiful Posy. Kind Posy. Precious Posy.’

  ‘Stupid Posy, blind Posy, ineffectual Posy, duped Posy,’ said Posy.

  Flora’s arms were around her. Her fair curls and Posy’s dark ones mingled.

  ‘You have yourself, and the children, and me. Look, our hands and arms are the same. Together we’re strong. We’re one of those Indian goddesses.’

  Posy smiled and tried to wave one of her arms gracefully.

  ‘I think we look more tragic Pre-Raphaelite,’ she said.

  ‘Are you saying I have a thick neck?’ Flora laughed.

  ‘No! And your skin is still lovely. Mine’s not,’ said Posy.

  ‘Look. I brought you some things.’ Flora started to unpack. ‘I know this doesn’t make any difference, but it might help a tiny bit. You should have nice things.’ There were bottles and jars and tubs and tubes of wonderful potions. Things that Posy would never in a million years have bought for herself.

  ‘Flora, this is too extravagant!’

  ‘I wanted to. I could make it tax deductible if I wanted, but I don’t. And there’s some stuff from Waitrose that I left in the car. I’ll just go and get it. Put some of that Origins “Calm Down” cream on.’

  ‘Here you are,’ said Flora, coming back in with three bulging carriers.

  ‘Flora, you really didn’t have to. Sadly I haven’t lost my appetite.’

  ‘But I wanted to. I hope it’s all stuff Frank hates. He doesn’t like fruit much, does he?’

  ‘Only nectarines.’

  ‘Good. I got peaches instead. Come through and I’ll unpack it.’

  In the kitchen Flora started to unload it onto the table.

&nb
sp; ‘It all looks beautiful,’ Posy said. ‘Thank you.’

  ‘How does it go?

  ‘Citrons and dates,

  Grapes for the asking,

  Pears red with basking

  Out in the sun,

  Plums on their twigs;

  Pluck them and suck them,

  Pomegranates, figs …’

  ‘And lovely bread,’ Posy added. ‘And lovely coffee. I’ll make some proper coffee in a while.’

  ‘Also chocolate, but only a smallish bar. You know the saying: “Get mad, get thin, get even”,’ said Flora.

  ‘And you know the saying,’ Posy told her,

  ‘ “For there is no friend like a sister

  In calm or stormy weather” …’

  They heard Frank’s key in the door.

  ‘Oh no, it’s him!’ Posy looked horrified. ‘I don’t want to see him at the moment.’ Flora slammed the kitchen door shut, but not before she had given Frank a look of loathing and disdain.

  ‘Where are the children, anyway? Their aunty has to give them a cuddle.’

  ‘Oh no! I completely forgot. Tom’s out in the garden. I’d better check on him. He’s probably playing with snails.’

  He was fine. Just playing with the sand. His chin and T-shirt were stained pink from raspberries.

  ‘Tom,’ Posy called, ‘Aunty Flora’s here! I didn’t know we had all those raspberries in the garden. I don’t suppose you’ve any room for some of the lovely fruit Aunty Flora brought?’

  ‘I might. If it’s strawberries or plums.’

  ‘Come in then. We’ll have to go and get James and Poppy soon. Do you want to come with me to school, or stay with Daddy, if he’s here?’

  ‘He waved at me out of the window,’ said Tom. ‘Can I watch “Thomas”?’

  ‘If you give me a kiss.’

  ‘If you give me a strawberry.’

  ‘I love it when their breath smells of strawberries or raspberries,’ Posy told Flora. ‘Izzie’s asleep. I expect you guessed that. There was something else I wanted to talk to you about.’

  ‘There surely can’t be more, or worse,’ said Flora, rolling her eyes.

  ‘Kind of. Aunt Is has gashed her leg and even honey poultices aren’t working. Aunt Bea has broken her wrist in Morwenstow Church.’

  ‘Oh no,’ said Flora. ‘Are they all right?’

  ‘She says it’s all very tiresome,’ said Posy. ‘She wants us to go down and help if we can in the summer.’

  ‘Oh Posy, I will between bookings. I’ve got a couple of weddings, all the usual stuff. I’m sure I could get down a few times for long weekends. I wonder if Stella might like to come too. She’s very useful. And I would like her to meet them. Maybe we could come down for my birthday.’

  Posy raised her eyebrows very slightly. ‘Well that would be good. Actually, I did tell Aunt Is that you’d come down when you could. I was thinking of taking Lettice and the children and going for the whole holidays. I don’t know what to do about Frank. I don’t like the idea of him being here all by himself. Or not,’ she added darkly. ‘But someone will have to feed the cat, and I don’t want to be with him at all.’ She offered Flora a piece of chocolate and then went on. ‘I really don’t know what use Aunt Is thinks I’ll be with all the children there, but we’d certainly have a nice time. In her day babies and toddlers spent their time asleep outdoors in their prams, or playing in their playpens.’

  ‘They have still got our playpen in one of the barns. It might be worth trying, you never know,’ said Flora.

  ‘It really would be such bliss to get away. I’ve always wanted to take the children on holiday to Cornwall for the whole summer. And if people knew I was going for six weeks without Frank they’d start to speculate, and maybe I wouldn’t have to say anything to anyone. I suppose the children would miss him.’

  ‘But they’d have such a good time. You never know, things might get better.’

  ‘Unlikely, unless he gets a time machine. Or I do. I keep wondering if it’s all somehow my fault, that I wasn’t paying enough attention.’

  ‘Posy! Don’t be ridiculous. He’s the one who did it. Write out a thousand times “It isn’t my fault. I am in the right.”

  Flora thought that in a way Posy might have a point, but she wasn’t going to say so. She thought that Posy had never, ever, seemed to pay enough attention to anything.

  July

  ‘I’m taking the children to the Balloon and Flower Festival,’ Posy announced to Frank while the children were eating their breakfast.

  ‘Daddy come too! Daddy come too!’ Poppy chanted, and he kissed the top of her head.

  ‘Yeah Dad, come,’ said James. ‘There’s rides. It’ll be cool.’

  ‘Can I ride my bike?’ Tom asked.

  ‘It’s much too crowded for bikes. There wouldn’t be anywhere to leave it if you were going on things, we’d never get it through the marquees.’

  ‘We never take our bikes to the Common any more,’ Tom grumbled.

  ‘Oh that’s not true,’ said Posy. ‘We certainly took them at, um, Easter. Anyway, your father’s in charge of bike-riding so ask him why.’

  ‘We can’t take them to the Balloon and Flower Festival, but we’ll try and take them out soon,’ said Frank.

  ‘And I want my other stabiliser off,’ said Tom.

  ‘OK, OK, as soon as I get time,’ Frank sighed. Tom had been riding very well and very fast with just one stabiliser since the last summer.

  ‘Time between smoking in the shed, not cutting the grass, going to the pub and doing other unmentionable things,’ muttered Posy.

  ‘Mummy, please can I bring Lettice? I want her to see all the flowers.’

  Isobel started to pelt the table with pieces of her toast and circles of banana.

  ‘Izzie! No throwing toast!’ As Posy bent to start wiping the debris of breakfast from the floor, Izzie scored a direct hit between her shoulder blades.

  ‘I really don’t know why I wear black T-shirts. I should wear yellow and brown smear-patterned ones,’ she said. ‘We might as well try and go early, before it gets too crowded.’

  She hadn’t planned on doing anything with Frank, but seeing as it was Saturday and everyone was at home, seeing as the children wanted him to come, seeing as taking all four of them to the Balloon and Flower Festival by herself would be a complete nightmare …

  ‘Daddy can I bring my bike? Please? Please?’ Tom implored.

  ‘OK, Tom. But you won’t be able to go on any rides or buy anything or go in any of the tents, or have a go at anything …’ Frank said. Posy conceded to herself that he could be quite useful with the children sometimes. She decided to just act as though he were coming, as though it weren’t an issue. She was determined not to do any arguing in front of the children. Then she had a bright idea.

  ‘Why don’t you just take them? I’ll stay here and get some chores done.’

  ‘Oh Mum,’ said James. ‘You have to come. We always all go to the Balloon and Flower Festival together.’ Posy realised that he must have sensed that something was wrong.

  ‘Well go and get dressed then. OK, we’ll all go.’

  Honestly, Frank thought, all this fuss and deliberation about something so simple. It would be at least another hour before everyone was ready to go.

  Finally, finally, the children were ready. Posy was packing a bag with drinks of water, nappies, wipes, boxes of raisins, little tubs of strawberries and grapes, kitchen roll, tissues, a bib for Izzie, plasters, antihistamine cream. Frank couldn’t stop an audible groan from escaping.

  ‘I think I’ll just see if Izzie wants a feed before we go …’ she said.

  ‘Posy, she seems fine. She is past one …’ He immediately wished he hadn’t said it. He was no longer allowed to make suggestions, or say anything that might be construed as criticism. Now Posy would be in an even fouler mood with him, if that were possible.

  ‘Well you’re the expert on babies. Just don’t blame me if I have to stop to
feed her. Now where’s Poppy gone? Oh, honestly.’

  ‘I think she went outside, Mum,’ said James, trying to be helpful.

  ‘Poppy!’ she yelled, even though Poppy would have no chance of hearing her if she was in the garden, ‘Hurry up! We’re going! James, go and get her. Be quick.’

  Frank didn’t know what the hurry was. The bloody show would be open all day for two days. All they had to do was cross a road and walk down a path to get there. Only Posy would behave as though it were one of the Wonders of the World, the World’s Fair come to Southampton, a visiting land at the top of the Magic Faraway Tree, soon to move off on its cloud and never be seen again.

  That morning they had all been woken by the hisses and roars of the hot air balloons launched for the 6 a.m. mass takeoff. There would be another one tonight, more tomorrow, and now they would see some of the balloons tethered in a field at the top of the Common. Frank had got back to sleep, but the children had been up and rampaging since then.

  At last James and Poppy returned sniggering from the garden. Poppy had her Miffy rucksack bulging with what Posy supposed were dolls and other unnecessary things to bring. She felt too weak and defeated to protest. She knew that she would end up cramming it all into the pushchair basket or carrying it herself.

  As they set off down the road Posy thought, ‘What a nice picture of a happy family out for the day we must make.’ The children were all wearing shorts and stripy tops, Frank was looking as close as he got to smart in some relatively unscathed khaki trousers and a shirt that Flora had given him for his birthday. It remained smart because he hated it and wore it only when nothing else was remotely clean. Posy thought that she herself was the one rather letting the side down in her summer uniform of faded flowery skirt, black T-shirt and dreadful M & S mummy sandals.

  Tom was holding on to the handle of the pushchair, telling her all about the things he might ride on, Frank was holding hands with Poppy whilst he simultaneously played plantain ‘soldiers’ with James. They love him so much, she thought, and he them. Now where had she packed the tissues?

  Karim’s grandfather was dozing in his front garden on a dining-room chair, his baseball cap pulled down over his eyes. He woke up as they passed.

  ‘Mrs Parouselli! Please wait.’ The party came to a halt. He went into the house and reappeared holding an envelope. ‘Family are all in Pakistan. Please take this. I am too old to go.’