The Playgroup

by Janey Fraser

  We are the little Puddleducks

  Sometimes we make a mess!

  We spill things on our trousers

  Or make marks on a dress.

  But that really doesn’t matter

  So long as we tidy up.

  We always put our toys away

  And wash up every cup!

  Chapter 32

  IT WAS AMAZING she could still function after what she’d learned about Danny and his American mother, whom she’d felt so sorry for at the beginning of term.

  Now, to her shame, Gemma found she was jealous of this quiet, unassuming woman with the twangy American accent and plainish face, despite her new, softer hairstyle.

  This Nancy Carter Wright had achieved what Gemma hadn’t been able to. She’d persuaded Sam to give her a baby! And that hurt. Really hurt.

  Automatically Gemma touched the silver chain round her neck that Sam had given her all those years ago, and watched the November Puddleducks newsletter flying into cyberspace ready for term next week. She’d already posted copies to the few parents who weren’t online, grudgingly conceding to herself that Joe’s email suggestion had indeed saved money.

  Meanwhile, it was still half-term and try as she had to divert her thoughts about Sam with the newsletter, there was something else niggling away at the back of her mind. Something that she had seen with her own eyes, just a few days ago.

  It was Joe – Joe kissing a tall, pretty woman with long, flowing auburn hair, on the beach, even though she had seen him, only last week, walking along Hazelwood high street with the tall, red-haired, legs-up-to-her-armpits wife or ex-wife (depending on whose gossip you listened to in the staffroom) clinging on to his arm and talking urgently.

  What a rat!

  Part of her hadn’t been surprised to see him on the beach. Hadn’t she heard him tell someone that he was going to visit great friends in Lyme Regis, or, as she and the other locals called it, Lyme?

  Strictly speaking, Gemma wasn’t that local. Her seaside home town was about forty minutes away, and it would have been simpler, when she was driving back for that half-term duty family visit, to have stayed on the motorway. But then the petrol light on Granny’s Morris Minor came on, even though the fuel indicator had cheerily promised that she had at least a quarter of a tank left. So, not wanting to take risks, she had come off and filled up.

  Then, because she’d been missing the sea for so long (the canal in Hazelwood simply wasn’t the same), she’d decided to take the coastal route home. Nothing at all, she told herself firmly, to do with wondering if she might see Joe. Nothing to do with the fact that she was slightly curious to see what he was like out of school, and whether his friends were as stuck-up and aloof and set in their ways as he was.

  And that was when she’d spotted them. Her first thought had been that the woman was really pretty, and nearer Joe’s age than hers. At least ten years older than her, anyway, although why she was even bothering to compare ages, she really didn’t know.

  Then two children had come running back along the beach, and her heart had done a funny acrobatic dance. Joe was dating a single mother! Or maybe she was still married and he was having an affair. From the way those boys were dancing around him, pulling him down to the shore to skim pebbles, they certainly liked him.

  Goodness, thought Gemma, pulling in without meaning to, and looking at the scene from a safe distance, Joe Balls, he of the stern ‘nativity plays are politically incorrect’ school, was actually laughing and cavorting around like they did during Pyjama Drama!

  Starting the engine, Gemma’s eyes pricked with tears. Everyone else had children in their lives. How did she, who had wanted kids for as long as she could remember, get to the grand old age of almost twenty-seven without a baby?

  Clearly this was a topic that had been on her parents’ minds. Almost as soon as she got through the front door of the tall white semi-detached Regency villa where she had grown up, only a ten-minute walk from the sea, the polite questioning began.

  ‘So lovely to see you, darling.’ Her mother’s arms enveloped her, and Gemma felt a rush of love and nostalgia for Granny, who had been so like her daughter, Gemma’s mother. ‘You didn’t bring anyone with you, then?’

  Every time she came down, her mother would ask the same question, as though Gemma could somehow magic someone from out of the air.

  She could almost see it now. Actually, she would say, I’ve brought Sam. Remember him? The love of my life who just happens to be married, or as good as, to the mother of a child in my class at Puddleducks.

  That would certainly stop the questions!

  Dinner wasn’t too bad, with Gemma trying to steer the conversation towards her job rather than her personal goings-on, and her parents telling her all about her older sister Patsy out in Sydney who was expecting again.

  ‘Isn’t that wonderful?’ enthused her mother, who then actually got up in the middle of the meal (something which had always been a no-no when she’d lived at home) to find the latest photograph of Patsy, looking so serenely pregnant that Gemma found herself feeling horribly jealous.

  Even her father, who rarely showed emotion, was nodding as he tucked into his apple pie. ‘We’re going out to see them in the summer. Did we tell you?’ He gave her mother an affectionate look. ‘Yes, I know I’ve always said I wouldn’t go on a long flight, but someone in this room twisted my arm. It will be so lovely to see them all again.’

  ‘It doesn’t seem so long ago since we were all sitting round the table as a family,’ said her mother with a catch in her voice. She tried to smile. ‘It’s so difficult to get you lot to do that nowadays.’

  Her father cut in. ‘Fiona and David are at medical school, dear, not a kindergarten. They don’t have time to come home.’

  Gemma stiffened. ‘Puddleducks isn’t a kindergarten, Dad. It’s a playgroup, and it’s actually not that easy for me to get back here either.’

  Her mother gave her an anxious ‘please don’t annoy him’ look. ‘We know that, darling, and we’re so thrilled to see you, especially now Tom has been posted so far away. Every time I listen to the news I get a funny feeling, and it’s always such a relief when it gets to the end and they haven’t reported something horrible. When you were young I used to think I was going to go mad with all the noise, especially after the twins were born, but now I’d give anything to have those years back again. The house seems so quiet now, doesn’t it, dear?’

  For a minute, the table fell silent. Gemma knew exactly what her mother meant. It had been wonderful growing up in a lively noisy family: in fact, it had been another reason why she had chosen to work with young children. But Mum was right. Everything had changed now.

  Gemma watched her father’s hand reach out for her mother’s and squeeze it. The unusually caring gesture made her feel quite lonely. Tom was her brother too, and she worried about him as well. Suddenly wanting to make her mother feel better, she took a deep breath. ‘Talking of Tom, I’ve met someone,’ she said casually.

  Her mother’s head jerked up with a keen, almost bird-like interest, and immediately Gemma knew she should have stayed quiet. Now it would lead to the grand inquisition!

  ‘Another teacher?’ Her mother’s eyes were positively ablaze with curiosity. ‘Is it that man Joe whom you’ve mentioned in your calls?’

  ‘No.’ Gemma felt a flash of annoyance. ‘He’s called Barry and he’s in the paratroopers.’

  Her mother looked as though she was going to leap out of her chair with excitement. ‘That’s wonderful news. Isn’t it, Dick?’

  Don’t start talking wedding bells yet, Gemma wanted to say. ‘He’s the son of my landlady and he’s home for a few weeks.’

  Her father, who still wore a suit at dinner even though he was retired, nodded gravely. ‘I presume he can’t tell you where he’s going.’

  ‘No.’ Gemma took a large slug of red in preparation for the next predictable question. Was it worth committing yourself to someone who was away a lot?
That was what her mother would ask.

  ‘Darling?’

  ‘Mmmm.’

  ‘I was wondering. Please don’t think I’m interfering. But is it worth committing yourself to someone who is away a lot? I just don’t want to see you hurt again, that’s all. I know how long it’s taken you to get over . . .’

  That was it. She couldn’t bear to hear his name mentioned. It wasn’t fair. It just wasn’t fair. There she was, having searched, although not very hard it had to be admitted, for her teenage sweetheart, only to find that his partner and child had turned up on her doorstep.

  ‘I’m sorry, Gemmie.’ Her mother put a comforting hand across the table. ‘We didn’t mean to upset you, did we, Dick?’

  Her father was still looking grave and had actually put down his pudding spoon. Not a good sign. ‘I have to say, Gemma, that I do think your life might have turned out differently if you had followed my advice after university. You got a First, my dear. Surely you can do better than working in a playgroup?’

  Her mother made the sort of sound she used to make when they’d been young and her father had been overstrict. ‘I don’t think that’s very fair, Dick.’

  Too right. Gemma stood up. ‘I’m sorry you feel like that, Dad. I happen to love my job. And as for finding Mr Right, maybe I never will. Perhaps I’ll hook up with a turkey baster instead.’

  And with that, she flounced out of the room up to her bedroom to write the nativity script, feeling like a child about to do her homework.

  Chapter 33

  ALL THAT WAS four days ago, but the memories were still as fresh and hurtful as they had been then. Gemma had made up with her mother on the phone, but as for her father, she felt it was up to him to apologise.

  Now, back in her own room at Joyce’s (how lovely to feel safe with her own bits around her, especially as the rat next door was away for half-term), she continued working on the nativity script. After Joe’s constant criticisms of everything she did at Puddleducks, she was determined that this year’s performance should be particularly good.

  ‘Gemma?’ There was a knock on the door.

  Even though she had told herself not to be too hopeful, her heart leaped.

  ‘It’s me. Barry. Have you got a minute?’

  Hastily running a hand through her hair, she glanced in the mirror. Panda eyes! She always got them when she was working, thanks to her habit of rubbing her eyes when she was trying to concentrate. Too bad. He’d have to take her as he found her.

  ‘Hi.’ She opened the door a crack.

  His eyes went straight to her smudged mascara. ‘You weren’t having an early night, were you?’

  She laughed. ‘I wish. Actually I was trying to work out how three small stars, three not-so-wise men including one who won’t remove his dummy, a hyperactive ox and a plastic Baby Jesus could manage to last for thirty minutes on stage without having an argument or forgetting their lines.’

  Barry grinned. He had a nice grin, she decided. One that was warm and crinkly and friendly. ‘Is it possible for the scriptwriter to take an hour off? Because if so, I’ve arranged a bit of a last-minute surprise.’

  ‘A surprise?’ She felt that mixture of excitement and panic when someone threw something at you out of the blue. ‘But I’m not dressed for it!’

  ‘You don’t know what it is yet,’ pointed out Barry. ‘Just wear something warm.’ He glanced down at her blue spotted pyjamas which she always wore when she was working on the bed because it was comfortable. ‘Those will do, if you want.’

  Was he joking?

  ‘OK.’ She’d take him at her word. Any man who seriously didn’t mind a woman with panda eyes and a duffle coat over her jim-jams had to be special. Sam, she remembered, had always liked it when she’d dressed up. A fat lot of good that had done her.

  ‘Where are we going?’ she asked as they went down the stairs.

  ‘You’ll see.’ Barry took her hand and it felt nice. ‘It’s only a short walk.’

  It looked as though they were heading for the canal, past the evening dog-walkers including Toby’s dad, who gave her a cheery ‘Good evening’, and glanced with curiosity at her companion. He thought Barry was her date! Gemma felt a thrill go through her. Well, maybe he was.

  They reached the towpath and began to walk past the canal boats, some of them lit up inside with warm cosy kitchens glowing through the windows. Now the clocks had changed, making the evenings earlier, the visible interiors of the boats seemed even more attractive in the dark. One couple were sitting opposite each other at a small table, eating, and Gemma’s heart leaped again in envy. It would be so cosy to have someone to be with; someone to talk to. Even the grumpy Joe had a wife or ex-wife or whatever she was, who was clearly still keen to share his company.

  As on her previous walk here with Barry, she enjoyed looking at the boats’ names. Miranda’s Boy sounded almost mermaid-like, the boat itself painted turquoise, with gold scrolls. There were two children’s bikes propped up outside, and inside she could see a small girl doing a jigsaw with her brother. Maybe they were away on an end-of-half-term holiday. A pang of longing for the old, noisy days of her own childhood passed through her. She’d give almost anything, thought Gemma, to recreate that with children of her own.

  ‘Here we are!’ Barry stood next to a small red canal boat with Wanderlust painted on it in flamboyant midnight-blue lettering. He held out a firm, steady hand. ‘Let me welcome you aboard!’

  She stood in wonder, staring at it. ‘It’s yours?’

  ‘Not exactly.’ He grinned as though pleased at her stunned reaction. ‘Belongs to a friend of mine from round here. He’s lent it to me. Mmm.’ He pretended to sniff the air. ‘Smells like dinner’s ready.’

  Pinching herself, Gemma jumped on board. Inside was a galley kitchen with two plates of smoked salmon, out-of-season new potatoes and asparagus with hollandaise sauce, on a table already laid for two.

  ‘Who cooked the meal?’ she asked, looking around.

  Barry handed her a glass of something sparkly. ‘I’d like to say that it’s one I prepared earlier but actually it’s a certain supermarket’s finest, courtesy of the microwave.’

  ‘This is amazing!’ Looking around, she could hardly believe it. It was like one of those films where the heroine just happened to step into an empty boat and find a banquet, not to mention a handsome hero. Then she felt a twinge of regret. ‘If only I’d known we were going out to dinner, I’d have dressed up!’

  ‘Nonsense.’ Barry was eyeing her approvingly. ‘You look lovely as you are. In fact, one of the things I like so much about you, Gemma, is that you just don’t realise how lovely you are.’

  Help! Kitty had always accused her of not being able to handle compliments, and she was right.

  Sensing her awkwardness, Barry invited her to sit down. He raised his glass. ‘Here’s to us,’ he said. ‘And may there be many more evenings like this.’ His face became serious. ‘I like being with you, Gemma. I really do.’

  His words made her tingle with expectation. This was so romantic! It had been so long since she’d gone on a date (partly through her own choice and partly through the lack of opportunity) that she wasn’t sure if she was acting in the right way. ‘Don’t be too eager,’ Kitty had always said, but she couldn’t help it.

  ‘I like being with you too, Barry.’ Then she took a huge slug of wine to try and hide the fact that she was blushing all over her face and goodness knows where else.

  After dinner, during which they talked non-stop about his life in the paratroopers, Puddleducks, his family and hers, where they had gone to school and uni, Barry suggested they sat outside. As she stepped over the bit that led up to the deck, he held out his hand so she wouldn’t fall. The touch of his skin made her tingle all over again. It was so nice to feel looked after for a change!

  He also insisted on draping a large brown rug over both of them as they sat sipping coffee outside the boat, watching others walk by. She’d always felt envious
of boat owners in the evening, sitting there so cosily: a silent fleet who could, if they wished, set sail the next day. And now she was one of them! It made her feel special and for a moment, she was reminded of the princess outfit at Puddleducks.

  ‘Does your friend take his boat out on trips?’ she asked, trailing a finger in the water as a swan glided by with its downy cygnets.

  Barry nodded. ‘He said he’d lend it to us next summer if we want.’ His eyes seemed to be searching hers carefully for a reaction. ‘That’s how long I’m going to be away for, you see. I won’t be back until at least June, so I would understand if you felt that was too long to wait.’

  Gemma shivered with something she hadn’t felt for so long that she almost didn’t recognise it. It was that delicious mixture of apprehension and excitement because the person you liked also clearly liked you back.

  But it was no good. Tell him, tell him, insisted the voice in her head. Granny had always been a stickler for the truth. You can’t go on until you tell him. It wouldn’t be fair.

  ‘I’d love to go on a trip with you,’ she said slowly, ‘but it would definitely have to be after Christmas.’ She took a deep breath. ‘In fact, there’s something I have to tell you.’

  His eyes flickered and she recognised the feeling behind them. Apprehension. Fear. Just what she had felt nearly five years ago.

  ‘If you’d asked me to go away with you right now, I would have had to say no. In fact, I nearly said no to tonight.’

  Another flicker. ‘Why?’

  ‘Because,’ said Gemma, looking out across the canal to the church with its tall spire piercing the night sky, ‘because I’m a married woman.’

  Chapter 34

  BARRY’S SHOCKED FACE instantly made her wish she hadn’t said anything. If only she had waited a bit until they’d got to know each other better, he might have understood. Now, as she tried to explain about Sam, stumbling and repeating her words in her confusion, she told herself that she’d blown it.