by Niamh Greene
I looked at her, unable to speak.
‘Mummy, can I be a flower-girl at their wedding?’ she went on. ‘I want a princess dress and flowers in my hair.’
Left Mrs H sipping brandy at the kitchen table, her rosary beads gripped in her clammy hands.
PS Am glad I didn’t tell Mrs H that I read in the Gazette supplement that you’re nothing in Primrose Hill if you haven’t had some girl-on-girl action. It may have sent her over the edge.
1 January: New Year’s Day
Have decided not to make any resolutions this year. They are a pointless waste of time, designed to make you feel much worse about yourself and your sagging, stretchmarked body than you do already. Luckily, I am busy concentrating on not devouring the last chocolate selection box so my mind is fully occupied.
PS Found a note rammed between the pages of the jumbo crossword-puzzle book I gave Joe for Christmas. It had lots of silly things scribbled on it, like
Find myself.
Retreat in Himalayas?
Organic cookery course?
Obviously he’d been trying to work out some clues. Threw the lot in the fire – am determined to be clutter-free this year. Hope he doesn’t notice.
2 January
Joe has announced that he wants to be the next Jamie Oliver.
‘What do you mean?’ I asked, not sure if he meant he wanted to grow his hair shaggy and get a few blond streaks or wear Converse trainers with bright shirts.
‘I’ve always wanted to learn how to cook. This year I’m going to do something about it. I’m signing up for a cookery course,’ he said. ‘Rita said to do things to enrich our lives. I think this could be it.’
Then he handed me a brochure: ‘Cooking With Passion’, an eight-week evening course with trained chefs.
‘That’s great,’ I said, wanting to be supportive but thinking it sounded faddy and that he’d never last the pace. ‘Does that mean you’ll be doing the family meals from now on?’
‘Maybe,’ he seemed doubtful, ‘but I’ll probably be more concerned with creating food with flair.’
Didn’t like to tell him that food with flair is all very well, but unless it’s cooked to Katie and Jack’s specific instructions it will end up in the stainless-steel bin.
3 January
The children are very restless. Katie attacked Jack with her safety scissors today. Decided to do some crafting-type activities to keep them occupied. Some lolly sticks, glue, glitter, and they’d be occupied for hours. And at least the safety scissors would be used for their official purpose and not to gouge out each other’s eyes.
Went to the Centre and bought lots of crafting paraphernalia. Naturally none of it was reduced to half-price in the January sale. Asked the snooty sales assistant why this was so.
‘Crafting is a year-round activity,’ she said, eyeing Katie and Jack suspiciously, as if they were mini-shoplifters. ‘We never reduce our stock.’
Lugged it home. Children played with it for approximately five minutes before Jack poured the glitter over Katie’s head and she lunged at him with a glue stick and tried to ram it up his nose.
4 January
Jack shoplifted from the crafts shop in the Centre! Found a glue stick in his jeans pocket just before I was about to throw them into the washing-machine. (The only new-year resolution I made was to search pockets before washing – that time my mobile phone ended up in a boil wash has taught me a lot.)
Am horrified Jack is now practically a juvenile delinquent. Who knows what could be next? Firecrackers through pensioners’ doors? Mugging little old ladies on the street?
Told Joe we may have to send our only son to reform school to nip his burglary habits in the bud.
‘He’s only little, Susie. He doesn’t understand the meaning of stealing.’ Joe sighed.
Am inclined to disagree. Didn’t tell Joe but I also found two packets of coloured beads stuffed into Jack’s duffel coat.
5 January
Decided that Katie and Jack needed some fresh air (and not just the sort they get sticking their heads out of the car window as I’m driving) – they’re starting to look quite grey and not at all like the cheerful, ruddy-faced children on the Christmas cards. Spent ages muffling them up in coats, scarves, mittens, etc., then bundled them, kicking and screaming, into the people-carrier and drove to meet Louise and Dargan in the park, trying to placate the sulking dog on the way.
Was very conscious that Katie and Jack were not dressed in designer gear and instead wore unwashed, mismatching, unironed articles and looked nothing like the cute kids in the Benetton ads. Meanwhile, Dargan was dressed from head to toe in Dior Baby, with matching bib and blanket draped across his gleaming Bugaboo buggy. Hordes of people stopped to admire and coo over him – the same hordes who seemed to go out of their way to avoid Katie and Jack and their hilarious mud-slinging game.
Was quite worried about Louise – she seems to have lost an unnatural amount of weight.
‘That’s the breastfeeding,’ she said smugly, lifting her Prada knit to reveal a flat belly. ‘The weight just falls off. And guess what? Dargan slept for twelve hours straight last night – and he’s so young!’
‘Well, it could just be a one-off,’ I snapped, furious that her baby was now officially sleeping longer at night than Jack. ‘They can revert to their old patterns at any time.’
‘Really?’ She sounded worried.
‘Oh yes,’ I said. ‘Children are very unpredictable. You should look it up on-line.’
Felt a bit mean, but I had to regain the upper hand. Parenting is my only speciality and I cannot have her trying to gain control. Maybe I’m starting to resent Louise and her unnatural adjustment to motherhood, just a little.
6 January
Joe started his cookery course tonight. He arrived back after three hours, flushed, excited and very happy.
‘It was amazing, Susie!’ he gushed, flopping on to the sofa with a huge smile. ‘I’ll be making perfect pastry soon! Danni says I have a very light touch.’
‘Who’s Danni?’ I asked, flicking the channels to find Farm of Fussy Eaters. Watching people throw up after touching a tomato is genius programming, in my opinion.
‘The teacher – she’s Italian. She has such a passion for good food. She’s going to show us how to make risotto next week.’
‘Is she like one of those wrinkly Italian nonnas?’ I asked, imagining a silver-haired granny in an apron, waving a wooden spoon.
‘No,’ he laughed, ‘she’s only twenty-three – but she’s got such charisma and presence in the kitchen you’d never know it. I really think this course will change my life.’
Was a bit unsettled by Joe’s enthusiasm. Still, as long as he keeps bringing home samples from class I’ll keep quiet.
7 January
Spent nice family day at the sales. Suspect Joe may need some sort of multi-vitamin booster, though. He had no stamina and could barely carry half a dozen bags at a time.
‘Are we almost done, Susie?’ he kept moaning, as I tried to decide between two non-stick frying pans, both reduced to an amazing half-price. ‘My feet are killing me.’
Was very annoyed by his selfish behaviour and informed him in no uncertain terms that if he wants to cook like Nigella we still had her entire range to purchase with 25 per cent off in Debenhams. Meanwhile Katie and Jack spent ages hiding in the changing rooms and practising commando-style attacks on all fours. It was quite cute until Jack went missing and store security caught him in the shop window, wrestling a life-size mannequin to the floor.
PS May consider developing party-feet gel inserts for men’s shoes – there could be a huge, untapped market for them. Saw quite a few men with pained expressions today.
8 January
Katie had the dress rehearsal for her dance show tomorrow. Dropped her at the community college, where gangs of stage-school mothers were standing about, looking fierce and competitive. Was convinced someone was about to pull a lethal weapon or maybe eve
n suggest a dance-off to the death.
Tried to calm Katie by telling her it was all going to be great fun and nothing to be worried about.
‘Are you sure, Mummy?’ she said. ‘Britney said last week that if I steal her limelight she’ll strangle me.’
‘Who’s Britney, darling?’ I asked, deciding the time was right to tell her that she had to stand up to bullies and stick up for herself.
Katie pointed to a chubby little girl in a cut-off T-shirt, muffin belly hanging over the waistband of her pink glitter trousers.
I instantly changed my mind. ‘Just keep out of her way,’ I whispered, out of the side of my mouth in case her mother heard me. ‘Don’t rock the boat.’
Not sure I did the right thing – but I was a teeny bit afraid of Britney myself. Not altogether convinced that the tattoo on her left shoulder was a fake.
9 January
Arrived early at the community college to settle Katie’s nerves before the big performance. Saw Britney and her mother in the hall doing complicated breathing exercises. ‘You’re not concentrating, Britney,’ her mother screeched at her, stamping her foot with rage. ‘Do you want to make a holy show of yerself in front of Angelica Law?’
‘No.’ Britney pouted. Then she spotted Katie. ‘You’re supposed to have yer hair in a plait,’ she sneered, hers swinging across her rouged cheeks. ‘It’s part of the performance.’
‘Um, excuse me,’ I called, ‘is Angelica Law here today?’
Britney’s mother eyed me. ‘Yeah, she’s introducing the show. What’s it to you?’ Then, without waiting for my response, she hauled Britney off to practise some a-cappellas.
I tried not to panic as I attempted to plait Katie’s hair under extreme pressure backstage. I hadn’t known that Angelica was going to be there. She would be judging Katie on her dancing ability and general stage presence. I cursed myself for not practising the ‘Twinkle, Twinkle’ routine with her.
Before I had time to coach Katie on pasting a smile to her face and keeping her head up, the lights went down and I rushed to my seat, just in time to see Angelica standing centre stage making a speech about how the arts were crucial for personal development. Then the music started and Katie was pirouetting wildly across the stage, her hair flopping about in time to the music.
She was spectacular. Am sure Angelica thought so too. I really think she may be gifted. Unlike Britney – whose mother stood in the front row, doing all the actions and mouthing the words to the songs while Britney shook with fear under the spotlight.
Tried to chat to Angelica afterwards, but she was surrounded by swarms of mothers begging her to take a look at their child or asking if they could get a walk-on part in James’s new movie.
‘Will Britney be OK, Mummy?’ Katie asked, as we made our way home.
‘Of course she will, darling,’ I said. ‘She just had stage fright. She’ll be fine next time.’
‘I don’t think there’ll be a next time.’ Katie smirked. ‘The teacher said she’ll never trust her with a lead role again. And she was sick in a bucket behind the curtain.’
10 January
Katie and Jack went back to school today. Felt quite lonely and bereft with only the dog for company (and he seemed quite happy just to lie about licking his bits).
Then the doorbell rang at eleven. It was Angelica, hopping from foot to foot in her spotless white sneakers. ‘Hi, Susie.’ She smiled weakly. ‘I was just passing so I thought I’d call in and surprise you.’
‘Angelica!’ I was lost for words. She’d obviously come to tell me she thought Katie was the next Beyoncé and should go to a proper stage school ASAP.
‘Sooooo,’ she peered past me into the hall, ‘is this a good time?’
‘Of course.’ I motioned for her to come in, kicking myself I hadn’t vacuumed in more than a week.
‘Your place is adorable,’ she said, as she picked her way over the toys scattered in the hallway and into the kitchen. ‘It’s so… rustic.’
‘Can I make you a coffee?’ I asked, hoping desperately we had some milk that wasn’t curdled.
‘Well, actually, I can’t stay. I just wanted to ask you a favour.’
‘Right,’ I said, feeling a bit cross that she hadn’t thought Katie had been the star of the show.
‘I’m sorry, Susie. You must be totally sick of me. I know I’ve been very demanding.’ A tear suddenly slid down her perfectly sculpted cheek. ‘It’s just that James and I are going through a difficult patch and I’m finding it hard to cope.’
‘Really?’ I felt terrible for my momentary annoyance. I was also intrigued. Their marital problems hadn’t made the papers yet.
‘He’s been messing around with an extra from the movie.’ She laughed bitterly. ‘I don’t know why I’m surprised. It’s textbook. Most actors get involved on sets.’
I was dying to ask for more juicy information, but I thought that might be insensitive so I kept quiet.
‘Anyway, I just thought if we could get away again, maybe to your country retreat… You know, we could bash out a few issues, spend some quality time together. Of course, I’ll understand if you want to say no – you must think I have a nerve, asking you for so much.’ She hung her head sadly.
‘Of course not, Angelica,’ I said. ‘I’d be delighted to help out – you have only to ask. In fact, why don’t you keep a key? Then you can use the house any time you like – we never get down there.’
‘Really, Susie?’ Her eyes shone. ‘Thank you so much. You’re such a precious. I don’t know how I can ever repay you.’
‘You can get me that TV job,’ I joked.
She stared at me blankly.
‘Sorry?’
‘The job, um, with the producer, and TV…’ I trailed off, feeling like an idiot. She hadn’t meant what she’d said about me glowing on TV. It had probably been a line to make me feel better about myself.
‘Oh, my God – of course! I’m such a shmuck.’ She smacked her forehead. ‘I totally forgot to tell you. He’ll be calling you real soon.’ Then she took her BlackBerry from her bag and punched in something at speed.
‘Really?’ I spluttered.
‘Yes! Isn’t it fabulous? It’s for that new show – Chat with Dee and Fran. All you have to do is go in and have a little talk with him – you’re sure to get the job. Unless you really screw up, of course.’
She threw back her head and laughed, showing off her perfectly capped teeth, and my knees went weak.
11 January
Tossed and turned all night. On the one hand I’m really excited about the prospect of going back to work and being mentally challenged and stimulated; on the other, I’m tortured that I’ll probably miss lots of special moments in the kids’ lives – I wouldn’t trade seeing Jack getting that potty stuck on his head last year for anything. Also, am unsure how Joe will take the news. The only bonus is that at least I don’t have to worry about childcare – Mrs H is bound to jump at the chance to spend more time with her grandchildren. It’s not as if I’ll have to employ a complete stranger to come into the house (just a chronically nosy mother-in-law who will spend her time rifling through my bedside-table).
Called Louise to discuss my anxiety.
‘Is this so-called producer actually going to call, though?’ She sounded doubtful. ‘Maybe there is no job.’
‘Why would Angelica tell me there was if there wasn’t?’ I said.
‘I dunno,’ Louise said. ‘There’s something about her that I just don’t trust. She seems a bit me-me-me.’
‘Louise,’ I said patiently, ‘I know you’re suspicious of her, but that’s because you only ever see her in the celeb magazines. Honestly, she’s just like us. She isn’t self-involved at all – she’s very giving, actually.’ I decided not to tell her that I had given Angelica the keys to the country house in case she misunderstood her motives.
‘Maybe,’ Louise said. ‘But there’s just something that doesn’t add up.’
‘Look, it’s quit
e simple,’ I went on. ‘This producer is looking for someone with pizzazz and personality. Angelica says I have plenty of both. The only thing I have to decide is whether or not I want the job. Do I really want to be a working mother again?’ I felt a knot in my chest when I said it out loud.
‘I guess you have to weigh up the pros and cons,’ Louise answered. ‘If you feel it’s right to go back you should do it. You’ve devoted years to raising the children. Maybe it’s time to do something for yourself now.’
‘Will you be going back to work?’ I asked, hoping she’d give me some more insight.
‘Definitely, in some capacity,’ she said, ‘but that doesn’t mean I won’t miss Dargan every second.’ She paused. ‘But I need work to keep me sane. I couldn’t do what you do, Susie – I really admire you.’
‘Admire me?’ This got my attention.
‘Yes – you really give motherhood your all. I’d go slightly mad if I stayed at home.’ She laughed quietly. ‘You’re a brilliant mother.’
‘Well, I enjoy it,’ I said, realizing that I did, for the most part. ‘It’s just that sometimes it gets lonely – and it can be boring…’
‘What does Joe think?’ Louise asked.
Made a quick excuse to get off the phone before she could pursue this line of questioning. Didn’t want to admit that I haven’t discussed it with him yet. I’m saving the news for our next counselling session – in case he takes it badly and we need a third party to intervene.
12 January
Called Mrs H and asked her to pop round. Was desperate to butter her up so I could ask her to mind the kids if I went back to work.
‘I don’t know,’ she said stiffly. ‘I’m not sure I want to talk to you.’
‘Oh, come on,’ I wheedled, ‘you can’t give me the cold shoulder for ever. Anyway, Joe baked chocolate-chip muffins last night – they’re really good.’