The Playgroup

by Janey Fraser

  The music was changing now to a slow beat, leaving him no option but to put his hands awkwardly on her waist and shuffle round in a circle. Dancing had never been his thing.

  Gemma seemed similarly embarrassed, and once or twice bumped her head against his chest, partly because he was so much taller than her. She smelt nice; not of the expensive heavy stuff that Ed favoured, but something soft without being too sweet.

  ‘Sorry,’ he grimaced when he trod on her toes yet again. ‘I’m not great at this. Ed always says that . . .’

  A clear, cool, amused voice cut in. ‘Ed always says that I have many strengths but dancing isn’t one of them.’

  They both looked round to see Ed standing there. ‘Aren’t you going to introduce me then, darling?’

  What right had she to call him darling? Surely she wasn’t jealous? ‘Gemma, this is Ed. My ex-wife.’

  He emphasised the ‘ex’, so there should be no mistake.

  ‘Ed, this is Gemma, the pre-school leader who also happens to rent a room next to mine.’

  Ed’s beautifully waxed eyebrows rose in surprise. ‘I didn’t realise you two lived so close. You’re practically bedfellows!’

  How could she? Poor Gemma was virtually puce with embarrassment. ‘Excuse me.’ She had pulled a mobile phone out of her tiny evening purse. ‘I’ve just seen a text message that I need to reply to.’

  In the event, Joe and Ed stayed to the end, helping to clear up along with Danny’s two grandmothers, who had come to lend support, and had both been flirting mercilessly with Brian.

  ‘Looks like I haven’t lost the touch after all,’ he beamed, flicking some biscuit crumbs off his maroon jumper. ‘By the way, Gemma left me a message to pass on to you. She had to go early.’

  I’ll bet she did, thought Joe. Back to bed with lover boy.

  ‘Aren’t you going to ask me to yours for a coffee?’ pouted Ed when he ordered a cab to take her back to London.

  ‘Sorry.’ He brushed her cheek. ‘I’ve got work to do.’

  She waggled a finger in front of him, half-mocking. ‘I know. Balls Law. All work and no play makes Joe a rich boy. At least it used to.’

  He shook his head. ‘That’s changed now. Like me. And like us. I’m sorry, Ed, but there’s no point pretending. And that includes pretending about us too.’

  Her face crumpled, and he could have sworn he saw a tear threaten to mar that flawless make-up. ‘Then why did you ask me here?’

  ‘I didn’t. You asked yourself.’

  ‘But you didn’t say no.’

  True. But as he’d said before to both Mike and Lynette and himself, it wasn’t that simple to forget an ex. Even irritating habits were comforting, simply because they were familiar.

  He patted her shoulder, but the very touch made him want to take his hand away. ‘I’m sorry, Ed. Maybe for a minute, I thought we could turn the clock back. But every time I think about our baby, I feel sick. It’s over. Really over. We both need to move on and the sooner we accept that, the better.’

  Chapter 42

  LIFE MIGHT HAVE been hectic on the fourteenth floor but it was pretty hectic here at Corrybank too, especially now it was the day for Reception’s farm trip with Puddleducks.

  Joe and Gemma had gone over the arrangements again and again. Parental consent slips had been signed. Five parents had volunteered to come with them, so they were over and above the required adult/ child ratio. The coach was due any second. And Gemma wasn’t here.

  ‘Haven’t you heard?’ said Bella, checking her cuticles.

  Joe was getting a bit fed up with this ‘Haven’t you heard?’ phrase. It always signified trouble. ‘Now what?’

  ‘Gemma can’t come so Miriam is taking her place.’

  ‘Miriam?’

  ‘I forgot.’ Bella was opening her handbag now, producing a bottle and dabbing something on a nail as though she was in a beauty salon instead of at work. ‘You haven’t met, have you? She used to run the playgroup and Gemma’s covering for her now she’s on maternity leave. Her mother’s looking after the kid so she can help us.’

  ‘Yes, yes, yes. But why isn’t Gemma here?’ Joe couldn’t help feeling cross. If she’d taken a day off to be with lover boy while he was on leave, he’d have something to say.

  ‘That’s what I was trying to tell you.’ Bella, now seemingly satisfied with the nail, was putting the bottle back in her bag. ‘Gemma got a text on Saturday night at the disco. It seems that her bone marrow is a perfect match. She’s in hospital right now.’

  Joe tried to keep calm and rational on the coach journey. People donated bone marrow every day of the year. It had to be safe, otherwise they wouldn’t do it. On the other hand, all surgery carried a certain risk. Gemma must know that. She was a good woman. And brave, too.

  ‘Mr Balls, Mr Balls, Billy is kicking the back of my seat!’

  ‘Mr Balls, are you going to marry the princess from the disco and have babies?’

  ‘Mr Balls, will there be elephants cos my mum thinks I’m allergic to them.’

  ‘Mr Balls, I’ve forgotten my packed lunch.’

  ‘Mr Balls, where’s Mrs Merryfield?’

  ‘Mr Balls, I want to buy something for Danny from the gift shop.’

  This last was from the lovely white-skinned daughter of that stunning singer Dilly Dalung. Lily was one of Danny’s friends: he knew that from one of the early joint assemblies, where they had sat hand in hand. Even then, it had struck him as being sweet. It was so hard for children when their friends got ill, or worse.

  ‘I’m sure you can, Lily,’ he said, getting up as the coach stopped to make sure that he was out first to do the head count. He nodded at Bella and a woman he took to be Miriam, who was, astoundingly, carrying her baby in one of those stripy slings. ‘Who’s this?’

  Miriam flushed. ‘This is Nicolas. That’s Nicolas without an “h”, by the way. Sorry, I tell everyone that as people keep getting it wrong. Mum was meant to be having him but she’s got this bug that’s going around, so I thought it would be all right if I brought him.’ She beamed as though expecting him to fawn over this incredibly ugly, square-faced baby with three chins and a distinct smell emanating from a brown patch on the sling.

  No, it wasn’t all right, but it was a bit late now. ‘OK, everyone,’ said Joe to the adults. ‘You know which children you are in charge of. Follow me, please.’

  The day had been planned carefully. First they were to have a short tour round the hen house, and then visit the shed where eggs were incubated.

  ‘Mr Balls, how does the chicken get the sperm through the shell?’

  That one came from a boy in his own year. He’d explain later in biology.

  Next they were taken to see the sheep pen.

  ‘Mr Balls, my mum says that Dad is a sheep.’

  They moved on to the pigsties.

  ‘Mr Balls. Why do pigs make that noise?’

  Joe was just about to explain the mystery of swine nasal passages when Bella, who was rounding the corner with her group, cut in. ‘Stupid question, Sienna. They just do.’

  Her eyes fell on Beth, who was lagging behind, clutching her puffa. ‘Actually, I’ve got a riddle for Beth, which she ought to get since her mum says she’s allergic to everything. What do you get from pigs? Don’t know? It’s a rash-er. Get it?’

  That was cruel. Joe was about to say so when Miriam flustered up, still in her maternity dress despite having given birth three months ago. ‘Has anyone seen Lily?’

  ‘What?’

  ‘Oh dear.’ She was handing him her list. ‘I thought Lily was on your list of children to look after but I’ve just realised that she’s actually on mine. I’m so sorry. My mind’s all over the place after having this one.’

  Joe snatched the list, which stated quite clearly that Lily was in the group headed by Miriam. ‘When did you last see her?’ he asked quietly.

  Miriam bit her lip. ‘Not since the chicken house. Nearly an hour ago. I know it was then becaus
e I had to stop off for a bit and feed this one.’

  His first thought was that Lily had gone to the gift shop to find a present for Danny. But no. She wasn’t there. An exhaustive search by staff, parents and children revealed that Lily had completely vanished.

  Joe felt sicker than he had on the day that one of his team had lost twenty million pounds on the stock exchange. Money was one thing, but a child was irreplaceable.

  ‘We’ll have to phone the police.’ Numbly, he felt in his pocket for his mobile. ‘And her mother.’

  THE PUDDLEDUCKS FRIENDSHIP SONG

  We are the little Puddleducks

  We care about each other.

  If someone’s hurt, we’ll comfort them

  Just like a little mother!

  Chapter 43

  ‘GEMM-A. GEMMA.’

  The voice seemed to be coming at her from a distance, but she didn’t want to reply. It was as though she’d had a lovely deep sleep from which she was now slowly, very slowly, waking up. How rested she felt! Apart, that was, from a strange sensation in her right arm.

  ‘Gemma! Can you hear me?’

  She didn’t know the chirpy voice but it sounded as though it knew her.

  ‘You’re coming round from your operation now and you’re in the recovery room. Everything is all right.’

  Everything was all right? Then it all began to come back to her. The text from the hospital when she’d been at the disco. The news that by some incredible stroke of luck, her bone marrow matched Danny’s even though they weren’t related. Barry’s face when she’d pulled him to one side and explained what had happened.

  ‘But that means you’ll be saving the life of the child whose father is actually your husband,’ he said slowly.

  She put her finger to her lips. ‘I’ve got to do this. You do understand, don’t you?’

  Why did his eyes look so uncertain? ‘For Sam or for Danny?’

  Surely he got it? ‘For Danny, of course. I don’t feel anything for Sam any more.’

  Barry was looking at her in that suspicious way she was beginning to recognise. ‘Did you see him in the hospital?’

  She stepped away from him. ‘No, only Nancy. Look Barry, this is silly. I’ve got to get going. The hospital want me there tonight so they can do the operation tomorrow. I’ll only be in for a night. Two at the most.’ She tried to make light of it, although her heart was beating wildly. It was all so sudden, and she’d hated hospitals ever since Granny had died. Just hated them.

  Barry reached for his jacket. ‘I’ll drive you there. No, honestly. I insist.’

  That had been last night. At least she thought it was. Which meant that today was Sunday. Maybe Danny was having his operation right now. Gemma didn’t often pray, but she found her lips moving. Please God. Please make Danny live. Please make him well again.

  The words seemed to have a soporific effect. How heavy her eyes felt! ‘Just taking you back to the ward now, Gemma,’ said a cheery voice and she drifted back to sleep while, at the same time, being vaguely aware of someone wheeling her bed along a hospital corridor.

  The next morning she woke feeling much brighter, in a smallish ward with five other women, two of whom had their curtains closed around them. Her first thought was Danny. Had he had his operation? Was he all right?

  The nurse who was bringing breakfast round on a trolley didn’t know, but promised to find out. Gemma wasn’t hungry. She felt restless with uncertainty. The sun was shining through the windows of the ward, so it would be a perfect day for the farm trip. Luckily, she’d managed to text Bella on the way into hospital to explain the situation. She only hoped that her assistant would remember to pass on the message to Joe and find an extra parent or member of staff to make up the adult/child ratio.

  Joe! Gemma’s arm began to throb slightly where the drip had been inserted. She just couldn’t get the measure of him. First he was married. Then he wasn’t. He lent his flat to the Carter Wrights, showing that he was a better man than she’d thought. Then he brought his glamorous ex along to the disco. And he’d told her all that terrible stuff about Ed having an abortion.

  Her eyes felt heavy again. How weird it was that Joe could be preying on her mind when the only thing that really mattered was Danny.

  And Sam.

  Had she really meant it when she’d told Barry that she was doing this for Danny? Of course she wanted to save the boy’s life but wasn’t there, as Kitty had suggested when she’d rung her at the hospital just before the op, a small part of her that also wanted to punish Sam? ‘It will be a terrible shock to see you if his mother hasn’t told him,’ her friend had pointed out. ‘I wouldn’t fancy being in his shoes.’

  When Gemma woke up again, it seemed to be lunchtime. This time she did feel like having a small bowl of tomato soup, and she was able to pad along in her dressing gown and slippers to the loo, which, the nurses told her, was a very good sign.

  ‘You’ve got a visitor,’ said one of them when she’d cleared away lunch.

  Barry! He’d promised to be back as soon as this was permitted. Gemma whipped out her mirror from the handbag in her locker and ran a hand through her hair before trying to get the last of her mascara out of a nearly empty bottle. Inside the locker sat her silver chain, which she’d had to take off for the operation. Somehow, despite knowing about Sam and Nancy, she couldn’t bear not to wear it any more. It had been part of her body for so long: a symbol of hope that he might come back, saying he’d made a mistake and that he loved her, enough to have their children. Slowly, she fastened the chain around her neck.

  ‘Gemma?’

  Her blood froze. That wasn’t Barry’s voice.

  She looked up as the tall, blond man who was standing awkwardly in front of her sat down on the chair next to her bed. It was Sam, all right. An older Sam, who had put on a bit more weight and grown a moustache. It suited him. His eyes, still the same stunning periwinkle blue, held hers uncertainly. ‘I couldn’t believe it when Nancy said you’d volunteered to be a donor. I don’t know what to say.’ His voice had a catch in it.

  ‘Don’t know what to say?’ repeated Gemma. The anger lashed out of her mouth, and the woman in the bed next to hers looked across curiously. ‘Are you talking about my bone marrow, which, by the way, I would have given to any needy child? Or are you talking about breaking my heart by declaring that you didn’t want children, although you didn’t mind having them with someone else? Perhaps we are talking about you going off and not leaving a forwarding address? Or maybe you don’t know what to say about leaving your “wife” and son to “find yourself” during an extended business trip. I think those were the words that poor Nancy used when she was crying on my shoulder not long ago.’

  Sam reached out to touch her arm but she moved away. ‘Don’t.’

  He shook his head. ‘I’m sorry. Sorry for all those things you’ve just listed, although actually I didn’t go off and leave you. You left me.’

  ‘Yes. Because you couldn’t cope when you thought I was pregnant.’ She was crying softly now. ‘I loved you, Sam. I loved you so much.’

  He took her hand, the one that hadn’t had the drip in it. ‘I felt the same. I even went through all our photographs and blanked out your face in an attempt to get over you. Part of me wanted to come back and say I’d made a mistake, but I was too proud.’ His voice faltered slightly. ‘You’re still wearing my chain.’

  She nodded, trembling, remembering how he had bought it for her as a wedding present from some tacky souvenir shop in Vegas.

  ‘There’s something I’ve got to tell you,’ he continued unsteadily. ‘I met Nancy on the rebound. It was very soon after you and I split.’ His eyes refused to meet hers. ‘I told her I didn’t want to get married or have children. I know I should have told her I couldn’t get married, but then things happened so fast. We’d only been dating for a few months when she got pregnant.’

  How horribly, horribly ironic!

  He glanced behind him nervously but th
ere was only a nurse at the far end, talking to a patient. ‘Danny was an accident.’

  Gemma tried to pull her hand back. ‘He’s a lovely little boy.’

  At least Sam had the grace to look embarrassed. ‘I know he is, but the truth is that he wasn’t planned. I had to think really hard about whether I could make myself do the right thing and stay with Nancy. But I did, Gemma. I did because I felt so guilty about not having stood by you when you thought you were pregnant.’

  Congratulations! Did he expect her to clap?

  Sam’s story was pouring out of him now. ‘We stayed in the States for a bit and then came back to London because of my work. I have to admit that I suggested living in Hazelwood partly because it was easy to commute, but also because I remembered that your grandmother lived there.’

  Gemma’s eyes smarted with tears. ‘Used to. She died. But that was one reason why I took the job at the playgroup. It was near the nursery she ran, years ago.’

  Sam shook his head bemusedly. ‘Neither of us expected to find the other through your Puddles playgroup.’

  ‘Puddleducks,’ she corrected him, ‘although Puddles isn’t a bad name, considering the odd leakages that occur now and then.’

  Hang on. What were they doing talking about this, when the only really important thing was Danny? ‘How is Danny doing? Has he had the operation?’

  Sam nodded. ‘That’s why I’m here. He’s still in the recovery room but the nurses say he’s come round. It’s too early to tell yet if he’s going to . . .’

  His eyes filled with tears. This time it was Gemma’s turn to reach out to him. ‘He’ll be all right, Sam. I just feel it.’

  Awkwardly she watched him struggling and trying to talk while holding back tears. ‘I hope so, Gemma. I really do.’ His eyes searched hers again and she could see the pain in them. ‘But I can’t help thinking that Danny might be taken away from us as my punishment for not being a good enough husband. To either of you.’ He put his head in his hands. ‘Nancy doesn’t know about me being married. I just told her that I wasn’t ready to get married to her yet. What a mess.’