The Playgroup

by Janey Fraser

  Nancy didn’t like the sound of this. ‘What happened?’ she asked, carefully pressing a piece of blue glass on to the top of the church tower, where the cement was still damp.

  Annie made a face. ‘Don’t ask. But suffice it to say that’s why he became the first husband. Mind you, Vietnam beats Stockport in my book, any day.’ She touched Nancy’s arm lightly, and the clock tower nearly wobbled. ‘It’s a bit odd, don’t you think, that suddenly your man wants you out there when he was being all off before. Do you think something’s happened to make him realise how much you mean to him? By the way, how about a new hairdo before you go? I’ve got a great hairdresser. Pink streaks might suit you too!’

  She thinks I’ve got competition, thought Nancy. Annie reckons Sam might be having an affair and now wants to check out his options back home.

  It wasn’t as though she hadn’t considered the possibility. If Sam did fall for someone else, she’d decided, she would just let him go. But now it seemed like it might have happened, she realised she wanted him. The old Sam, that was. The one who had loved her properly before Danny had been born.

  Danny! ‘I can’t just leave him. I’m not sure I trust Patricia. Supposing she leaves the front door open and he wanders out? And what if she leaves her bottle of indigestion tablets out and he helps himself?’

  Doug’s kind, firm voice cut in. ‘You know, Nancy, I couldn’t help overhearing. Would it help if I said that in former times grandparents played an extensive role in bringing up their grandchildren, and that all the generations involved benefited from this?’

  He gave her a reassuring pat on the arm that felt friendly rather than a come-on. ‘If I were you, I’d listen to your friends. I’m sure they’ll keep an eye on your mother-in-law. And don’t worry about letting us down on the mural or muriel as she refers to it, although I have to say that I suspect these malapropisms might be an affectation on her part to gain attention. We’ll work extra hard, won’t we girls, and we’ll be looking forward to having you back.’

  She couldn’t go! She couldn’t! Yet if she didn’t, Sam and she might really be over and then Danny wouldn’t have two parents. She and Sam had both had this disadvantage, and clearly it hadn’t done either of them any favours in life. In the end, it was that which made her decide that she needed to go out to join Sam. A child needed two parents in an ideal world, and she had a duty to do everything to make that possible.

  Even so, the terrors of leaving her son tormented her for the next week. When it came to saying goodbye to Danny, Nancy felt as though her heart was being cut out with the new set of kitchen knives that Patricia had insisted on buying (‘If you don’t mind me saying, dear, yours are frightfully blunt’).

  ‘Mummy loves you very much, darling.’

  Danny had given her a quick hug. He smelt of baked beans and earth where he’d been digging outside; something, she was ashamed to say, that she wouldn’t have allowed before he’d started playgroup. ‘Mummy, can we go to Devon like Mrs Merryfield when you get back? She’s going to make castles on the beach.’

  Nancy felt another stab of guilt. She should be there, doing things with her son instead of jetting off to the other side of the world to patch things up with a man who had no idea what parenthood was really about. ‘Maybe another time, poppet.’

  And then she was off, with Annie driving her to the airport because, as she said, she wouldn’t put it past Nancy to chicken out at Departures. She, Annie, would jump at the chance to go to Vietnam, if only for a sixteen-hour nap on the plane away from the kids.

  It all felt very strange, thought Nancy, who couldn’t stop herself from putting her hand up to the side of her face and tentatively feeling the unfamiliar layers that Annie’s hairdresser had created. She’d said a firm no to the pink-streak idea, luckily, and found herself asking for blonde highlights instead like Gemma’s, which were probably natural and which she’d always admired.

  Now, as Nancy pulled down the sunscreen mirror to check her make-up after a few tears, it was as though another person was looking back at her. One who was brave or foolish enough to leave her son and go to the other side of the world.

  After saying goodbye to Annie and checking in, Nancy found a seat in Departures next to a family of five who all seemed to be laughing and joking and arguing in a good-natured way. She’d wanted to take Danny, but Sam had said it wasn’t a good idea and that besides, his jabs might not be up to date. Anyway, with his mother at home, it was an ideal opportunity for her and Sam to have some time alone as a couple.

  Then her flight was called. It wasn’t too late to go back, Nancy told herself as she presented her boarding pass at the gate. She could be back with Danny within a couple of hours; already she was missing the smell of his downy head and his constant chatter like the small boy in the family in front of her. But if she did that, Sam would give up on her. She knew he would. So somehow, feeling as though another person was moving her legs down the long tube of a corridor leading to the plane, she found herself taking a window seat near the emergency exit.

  When the plane, an enormous thing with three flights of stairs, took off, Nancy felt as though she was going to be sick. Supposing it crashed? Who would bring up Danny? Patricia with her stuffy British mannerisms, or her own self-help-obsessed mother who was equally crazy?

  Nancy eyed the air stewardesses sitting in their chairs. They looked relaxed, which was surely a good sign, even though the seat-belt sign was still on. Yet the further the plane rose in the sky, the more breathless she felt. She’d never been this far from Danny before. From the minute he had taken his first breath she had been with him, apart from his time at Puddleducks.

  ‘He’ll be fine,’ Gemma Merryfield had assured her when she’d explained where she was going. ‘You go and enjoy yourself. It’s important for parents to have some time together. By the way, I like your new hairdo. Those blonde streaks suit you, and the feathered layers are really soft.’

  But she had said all this in a voice that sounded a bit different from her usual cheery tone, so it was obvious that even she thought Nancy was being neglectful.

  What was she doing?

  PING!

  ‘May I help you?’ The pretty Singaporean stewardess in a beautiful peacock-blue silk outfit was at her side in a moment.

  ‘Is it possible to make a phone call?’ Nancy knew she was overreacting, but couldn’t help it. ‘I’ve just left my son for the first time and I need to check he’s all right.’

  It was expensive and a bit of a fiddle, as Patricia would have said, as the stewardess showed her how to pull out the screen and dial her home number. ‘Patricia? It’s me. Yes, I’m on the plane. Yes, I know it’s costing a lot but I wanted to know if Danny’s all right. Good. Thanks. Yes, I know I’m worrying unnecessarily and I’m sure you’ll call Sam’s phone if you need us.’

  After that, Nancy slept: a long deep sleep, despite the odd bout of turbulence. The stress of the previous months, coupled with the knowledge that now there really was no going back, completely knocked her out until it was time to change planes at Singapore and get on the last leg to Ho Chi Minh City, a place that a few weeks ago she hadn’t, to be honest, even been able to spell correctly.

  It was, she thought, helping another mother with all her baby stuff through to Arrivals, like being someone else.

  Someone who wasn’t Danny’s mum.

  Someone who was just Nancy.

  Chapter 28

  IT WAS SO busy and noisy! Nancy had to wait half an hour at the visa window where someone who hardly spoke English eventually stamped the forms she had brought with her, and she was finally allowed through passport control into the sea of small brown faces, some holding up sheets of papers with names on them. Hers wasn’t there.

  Sam hadn’t been sure he could get away from a meeting but if he couldn’t, he’d promised, he’d send someone to collect her; someone from the office. If he had, that person wasn’t obvious. And then she saw him! Taller and blonder than anyone else
around him, striding through the crowd, doing a double take at her new look and pulling her into his arms.

  It wasn’t a kiss – how long since they had done that properly? – but it was a lovely warm cuddle that made her feel that yes, she was right to come out even though part of her body felt missing without Danny’s small hand in hers.

  Finally Sam released her and a small brown wizened woman nearby, wearing one of the pointed Vietnamese hats Nancy had seen on television, clucked her approval and said something she couldn’t understand. Sam said something back that made the woman cluck again and laugh with a gummy mouth.

  ‘You speak Vietnamese already?’ she asked in wonder.

  ‘Just a few words.’ He laughed, slightly embarrassed. ‘She says that we make a nice couple.’

  Not if she knew our problems, thought Nancy, turning back to give the old woman a quick smile. Meanwhile, Sam was taking her hand and leading her through the crowds to find a taxi. ‘How was your flight? You must be exhausted.’ He glanced down at her hair. ‘I like the zigzaggy blonde bits. They suit you.’

  As he spoke, a fleet of motorbikes shot by, making her jump. The air was dusty, making it hard to breathe, and the roar of the traffic and the constant, very fast talk around them was like four Puddleducks playgroups put together.

  ‘I know this is all going to seem very strange to you, especially as Ho Chi Minh is so noisy. It takes a lot of getting used to at first, and the traffic is manic. So I thought we’d have a day in the city and then I’ve booked a week-long trip down the Mekong Delta.’

  She listened to Sam talk away and watched astounded through the window as the taxi made its way through the city. Motorbikes wove in and out like bluebottles, with total disregard of traffic lights or the few pedestrian crossings. Crossing the road, Sam was telling her, required a leap of faith, rather like crossing the M25. You simply had to walk at an even speed and somehow the traffic would usually make its way round you.

  He went on like this, filling her in on the sights. ‘That’s a famous hotel where journalists holed up during the war writing their dispatches, and that’s the town hall with its French architecture because the French were here before you Americans. There’s the former presidential palace with the famous North Vietnamese tank that broke through when the South finally lost, and look, do you see that man crouching down at the side of that building, showering himself? Incredible, isn’t it, how you get hotels next to places that are literally falling down?’

  But it wasn’t until they got to District Seven, where the litter and the ramshackle shops and shacks on the main streets gave way to a crop of smart restaurants and an HSBC bank just round the corner from Danny’s tenth-floor apartment, that she realised. Sam hadn’t even asked how their son was. Nor, when she cuddled up to his back in bed, did he suggest doing anything else. Instead, he fell asleep before her, leaving her wide awake from jet lag after having slept on the plane.

  The following morning, Sam had an unexpected meeting. Would she be all right waiting in the apartment for him? No, she decided, feeling an unaccustomed rush of independence. It would be unadventurous not to explore in a new place, especially as she was there for such a short time. But first, she needed to call home.

  The ringing tone seemed to take ages to kick in and when it did, it took several rings before it was answered. The sound of her mother-in-law’s breezy voice brought back all the old anxiety she’d had before leaving.

  ‘Patricia? It’s me. Is everything all right?’

  ‘Not really, dear.’

  Nancy’s heart quickened. ‘Why?’

  ‘I’ve looked everywhere but I simply can’t find it.’

  ‘Find what?’

  ‘The sage, dear.’ She spoke as though the subject had already been mentioned. ‘Where on earth do you keep it? It’s absolutely essential for my power surges.’

  Her what?

  ‘Sage leaves, eaten whole, are absolutely vital for the menopause. You’ll find that out when you get there. In fact, it probably won’t be long – you Americans always like to get to places before anyone else.’

  She was speaking so fast that before Nancy had fully absorbed the rudeness of the last remark, her mother-in-law had moved on. ‘As for Danny, he’s as happy as a sandboy. You really ought to calm down a bit, dear, like that lovely Gemma Merryfield. We saw her in town today, you know. Danny absolutely loves her toothpaste song. Such a good idea! It makes him really enthusiastic about cleaning his teeth and in fact I had to stop him the other night, as his gums were bleeding. Isn’t that sweet? Gemma says that . . .’

  At that point, the phone cut off, proving that Sam hadn’t been telling white lies when he’d said that communication could be difficult at times. Nancy wasn’t sorry. To be constantly compared unfavourably with the pre-school leader who seemed, at times, too good to be true, was becoming really rather irritating. Even Brigid and Annie agreed that if Gemma Merryfield had children of her own, she’d be as stressed and disorganised as the rest of them.

  Afterwards, Nancy simply had to get out of the apartment for some fresh air, as well as the exploration she’d promised herself. However, judging from the masks which everyone wore and the hordes of motorbikes which shot by (often six or seven abreast), fresh air was in short supply. At one point Nancy crossed the road, but it was terrifying. No one seemed to stop for anyone, not even at the so-called pedestrian lights.

  Glancing up through the crowds, she spotted an indoor market that seemed to offer a haven from the chaos of the road. How wrong she was! As soon as she entered the market, she found herself besieged by small brown-skinned men and women keen to sell her their silks and small wooden knick-knacks. It was all a little overwhelming, so she made a swift exit, pausing to look around her.

  She saw a crowd of people gathered around a uniformed Vietnamese man. He was obviously a tour guide, just what she needed. She’d never see anything if she wandered about on her own like this. He glanced her way, smiled and asked if she wanted to join. When she nodded with relief, he carried on.

  Nancy spent the rest of the day visiting the sights of Ho Chi Minh: she cried at the War Remnants Museum, walked through Chinatown and visited the most beautiful post office she had ever seen.

  Afterwards she made her way back to the apartment. In her absence, it appeared that the maid had been in. Breakfast had been washed up in the compact kitchen and everything else, including the streamlined beech furniture, was polished and beautifully neat and tidy. She could do with someone like that at home! No wonder, as Sam had told her, many expats found they couldn’t come back to England unless they were as well off as Lily’s mother, with her nanny and driver and goodness knows who else.

  Nancy poured herself a gin and tonic while waiting for Sam, and stood looking out through the window at the view below of other apartments and a park.

  When he returned, not long afterwards, Nancy had forgotten her earlier resentment and now felt flushed and exhilarated, bursting with stories to tell him.

  ‘Really?’ he said with genuine interest at regular intervals while she was recounting her day. It made such a change having something to talk about! When he’d been at home, he would come back in the evening and dutifully ask what she had done during his absence. She had usually replied, ‘Not much,’ and their conversation had then disintegrated amidst Danny’s demands and Sam’s commuter exhaustion.

  ‘We’ve got an early start for our trip,’ he now said excitedly when she’d finished. ‘Looking forward to it?’

  She nodded, waiting for him to suggest that he might phone their son before leaving. But no. The thought didn’t even seem to occur to him. That night, when he moved towards her, she began to go through the motions mechanically, but then found herself strangely aroused. It was, she thought afterwards when Sam had fallen asleep and she was lying listening to the constant hooting of the motorbikes and cars outside, almost as though they were a couple on their own all over again.

  For the first time in her life, Na
ncy found herself wondering if what Sam had said right at the beginning – about not particularly wanting children – meant that they would have been happier as a couple without Danny.

  Nancy shivered. How could she live without her son? If it came to making a decision between him and Sam, she knew which one she’d choose.

  Chapter 29

  THE FOLLOWING DAY, a guide turned up to take them on their trip. Many of Sam’s contemporaries were taking time off, since it was a national holiday, and they were all going on one-to-one guided tours. It sounded so luxurious, but Nancy soon found that despite the individual attention, the word ‘luxury’ had different connotations in Vietnam.

  And thank goodness it did! She hadn’t wanted a five-star trip, Nancy thought, as the guide drove them to a small port where they were helped on to a boat with rickety cane seats for four people. She wanted to see the country as it really was, and this was exactly what they were doing.

  ‘Look!’ Sam pointed to another boat going past with a group of Vietnamese waving and smiling. ‘They’re coming back from the paddy fields after starting work at 3 a.m. And over there is a floating market.’

  She gazed riveted at these boats, one of which actually had a television on board and a line of washing. The guide explained, in English that was more enthusiastic than accurate, that the market was for local people rather than tourists. The floating shops sold essentials such as washing powder and oil.

  ‘Tonight,’ the guide announced, ‘we go to homestay.’

  This, Sam explained, was a bed and breakfast run by a Vietnamese family from their house on the river. Nancy gasped when they arrived and clambered from the boat on to their landing stage. The house, painted a faded turquoise, was charmingly quaint, with a wooden verandah at the front and miniature wooden doves. A smiling Vietnamese woman met them, bowing and ushering them into a room with a row of beds like a dormitory, each one with a blue mosquito net.