by Janey Fraser
Amazed, Nancy watched as Patricia virtually escorted Tracy’s mum out of the door.
‘What was that all about?’ she asked her own mother, who’d come up with a cup of tea for her.
Christabel put an arm around her. ‘I wouldn’t worry about it, dear. Probably something to do with Early Years Goals. Dear Brian has been telling me all about the British learning system. I must say, it’s rather bizarre, isn’t it?’
A bell rang, and everyone started going back to their seats.
‘No thank you,’ her mother was saying to a large cherub helper. ‘I won’t have another drink. I’ve had an elegant sufficiency.’
Nancy snorted with laughter at her mother’s feeble grasp of English idiom, but somehow managed to turn it into a cough.
Annie was nudging her in the ribs. ‘I’ve got a new venture,’ she was hissing excitedly. ‘You know, a project. Something to do now the kids are at school. So has Brigid. I’ll have to tell you later. If I don’t get back to the washing up, I’ll get the sack. Fallen angel and all that. Byeeee.’
Then Patricia came back, sliding into her seat next to Christabel, and Tracy’s mother took her place in front, looking extremely subdued, and it was time for the second half to begin.
Chapter 64
PART TWO OF the nativity play reminded Nancy of that strange art exhibition she had gone to in London last week, while the grandmothers had been on Danny duty at the hospital. A real mixture to please everyone, with a meteorite as well as the stars, a rainbow, Dick Whittington, and seven dwarfs looking for Snow White.
‘In my day,’ sniffed Patricia, ‘we stuck to the facts.’
Christabel clucked her tongue. ‘Are you saying that everything in the Bible is a fact?’
‘Sshhh,’ said the man in front. He turned round and glared just as the singing started.
‘Away in a manger,
No crib for a bed . . .’
There wasn’t a dry eye in the house as the audience focused their attention on the group of children singing as though their lives depended on every word.
Then it was the turn of the wise men, which didn’t seem very chronological, after Snow White and the dwarfs. Oh well. Who was this kid with ginger hair and freckles, carrying a box covered in painted newspaper? Nancy leaned forward. It looked like the son of Hippy Mum as the others called her, and he was speaking very slowly with long pauses between each word.
‘We got you a present. It’s . . .’
He stopped and looked around the audience, as though about to burst into tears.
‘Frankincense and myrrh,’ impatiently hissed the prompt behind the curtain, who sounded very like Bella.
‘Franky sense and mermaids,’ announced the boy. There was a ripple of laughter and a burst of clapping, which made him beam around the hall. Buoyed up by even more clapping from someone at the back, he carried on enthusiastically. ‘Then the wise woman gave birth to Jesus.’
Chronology had definitely gone out of the window! Another round of clapping until an arm came out from the curtain and gently pulled him back out of sight. Clearly the fourth wise man was too much of a liability.
Then there was a burst of music which Nancy immediately recognised. It was the tune for the various versions of the Puddleducks song. But although she knew the music, she didn’t know these words as well as the rest of the audience, who were rocking from side to side and clapping in time with Di’s piano-playing.
We are the little Puddleducks
Happy Christmas to you all.
We hope you have enjoyed our show
We’ve certainly had a ball!
But we’ve something else to tell you
Before you all depart.
And that’s to say we love you
With one big Puddleduck heart!
Nancy’s heart filled with emotion. To think how frightened she’d been about Danny coming here in September. Now it was as though he was part of one big happy family – and she felt the same. It was going to be so hard to leave it all. Still, if there was one thing that Puddleducks had taught her, it was that you could always make new beginnings.
Sam leaned towards her. ‘Danny’s getting tired,’ he whispered. ‘We need to get him home.’
She agreed but then an oversized elf bounced on to the stage. Standing in front of the assembled cast, he said he had some announcements to make.
‘That’s Mr Balls,’ giggled Danny. ‘Doesn’t he look funny?’
Everyone else clearly thought the same, as it took a while for the giggles to subside. Actually, thought Nancy, it wasn’t every man who could carry off a pair of green tights so well.
The elf cleared his throat. ‘As you know, back in September, all the parents were asked to come up with an idea for the Top Ten Playgroup Award. One of our mothers had a bit of a brainwave. I wonder if Mrs Carter Wright would mind standing up.’
Nancy felt her legs wobble and her face burn as she awkwardly got to her feet. Everyone began clapping enthusiastically. Mr Balls continued. ‘Mrs Carter Wright, who also happens to be Danny’s mum, had the idea of building a mural at Puddleducks which would depict the whole town. Unfortunately, as you will know, it was vandalised. Nevertheless, the award administrators saw fit to make a special category for the mural, which has resulted in a very generous cheque and lots of good publicity for the school.’
Another round of applause. Sam was beaming at her. ‘Well done,’ he mouthed.
‘Meanwhile, you might recall that you were asked to send in one-line statements about what our schools, past and present, mean to us, for inclusion in a book we called MY SKOOL! Mr Hughes and I had the task of editing it – we didn’t win a prize but one of our parents, who wishes to remain anonymous, has kindly offered to print it so we can sell copies in aid of both Corrybank and the school. The book was Mr Hughes’ idea so I think he deserves a clap, don’t you? He’s helped me see that prizes aren’t everything. Where are you, sir?’
Brian appeared beside Joe, and everyone cheered.
‘Finally, just before we start the second half, I’d like to say on behalf of everyone that we are thrilled to have Danny Carter Wright with us this evening,’ smiled Joe.
Another round of applause. Three months ago Danny would have hated being thrust into the limelight, but now, as he got down from his father’s knee and waved at his friends on stage, he seemed to be lapping up the attention.
‘Of course, I was always in the high-school production,’ murmured Christabel. ‘He takes after me.’
Patricia snorted. ‘Acting was always considered rather low in my family. Did I tell you I’ve offered to pay for Danny to have pee-yarno lessons?’
Sighing at their endless bickering, Nancy tried to ignore them. To her amazement, Danny walked up to the stage. Gemma, who was standing next to Joe in her lovely dress, grabbed the microphone. ‘Is that all right, Danny’s parents, if he comes up?’
They both nodded as they watched Danny run up the steps at the side of the stage and link hands with Billy, who had been remarkably quiet during the performance.
‘Blimey, I forgot to tell you,’ whispered Brigid, who’d now abandoned her washing-up duties and was sitting next to Nancy in the aisle, her coat-hanger wings lying by her side. ‘When we went to see you at the hospital last time, one of the doctors asked if we were interested in enrolling Billy in a trial for what he called challenging children. He doesn’t have to take pills. It’s a sort of behavioural therapy combined with something called brain gym. Gemma says she’s going to incorporate it into the musical movement activity.’
‘Shhhhh,’ said the man in front angrily.
One of the mother helpers had just come on to the stage and was whispering something to Mr Balls. He looked surprised, and then conferred quietly with Gemma. An apprehensive ripple ran through the hall, and finally Gemma took the microphone. ‘We’ve just received some news that we thought you might like to share,’ she began.
It was then that Danny grabbed Billy’s arm a
nd began pointing excitedly to the back. Nancy tried to turn round, but her view was blocked.
‘He did it!’ Danny was shouting. ‘Father Christmas got my letter. He did it!’
A small, delicate-featured dark-haired girl, clutching the hand of a thin pale woman in a blue anorak, slid into the empty seat next to Nancy. ‘Hi,’ she said shyly.
It was Lily! Or rather Natasha.
‘I hope we not miss too much,’ said her mother in an Eastern European accent. ‘My daughter wants to come. It is OK. Yes?’
Chapter 65
ED HAD PULLED it off! One of the mothers had picked up Joe’s mobile, which kept ringing persistently backstage, and taken the message. It was, the caller had insisted, urgent, and yes, Mr Balls had to know, whether he was on stage or not.
Somehow, his ex-wife, whose considerable ability in the field of human rights was enhancing her reputation in the legal profession, had persuaded the court that Natasha’s mother had acted in the best interests for her child, in circumstances that were to remain undisclosed. You can only guess at them, Ed had said darkly. So Natasha had been returned from her foster family to her mother, and an application had been made for the two to stay in England permanently. Of course there were no guarantees, but if anyone could swing it, it would be Ed.
As for Dilly Dalung, she was still in trouble but she could afford the best legal brains available. Joe was proud of Ed for acting for Natasha’s mother without payment, even if she had done it with an eye to impressing him.
‘Fantastic news,’ said Mike and Lynette, as they celebrated with non-alcoholic Christmas punch at the back of the hall after the show was over. Joe, feeling slightly out of it when all the other staff were bringing family, had invited them, along with his godsons.
Mike slapped Joe on the back. ‘Nice tights. Great performance too – real Oscar stuff. No, really, I mean it! Had tears running down our faces, didn’t we, Lynette?’
Lynette nodded. Moving away from her husband, she took Joe to one side. Despite having cleared the air with both of them about the beach incident, it still made him feel a bit awkward to be talking to Lynette in a low voice in the corner of the room.
‘I do hope,’ she said, her long auburn hair falling over her face like a Pre-Raphaelite model, ‘that this breakthrough with Lily doesn’t mean you’re thinking of giving Ed another chance.’
The thought had only occurred to Joe for a split second. People did get back together. Take Clemmie’s mum, who was there holding hands with her ex. Don’t even ask, he had heard someone mutter, before adding darkly that nativity plays did some very strange things to people.
Joe saw Juan and his father waving at him. ‘I couldn’t go back to someone who had got rid of our baby,’ he said quietly, waving back.
Lynette nodded her approval. ‘I liked Gemma, by the way.’
Joe gave her a warm grin. ‘That’s not very subtle.’
‘It’s not meant to be subtle.’
He moved closer so he could whisper. Ears were everywhere, big and small. ‘She’s taken. Engaged to Action Man, who happens to be my landlady’s son.’
Lynette gave him one of the quizzical looks that she usually reserved for one of his godsons when they’d promised her, hand on heart, that they’d already cleaned their teeth. ‘Are you sure? Because I heard them having quite an argument backstage, after Fraser had insisted that we tried to find you before the show started.’
She winked. ‘Not that I was listening, of course. Although I did happen to hear something which sounded as if she was giving him back his ring.’
‘Really?’
‘Really!’
If he hadn’t known better, he’d have said that Lynette was flirting with him, when in fact she was giving him a ‘what are you waiting for’ twinkle.
‘Ah, there you are, you two!’
Joe gave an awkward smile as Mike strode up, looking slightly on edge. The last thing he wanted his best friend to think was that he was making a play for his wife.
‘Has Lynette told you about this plan of hers?’ Mike said.
‘Sorry.’ Joe dug his hands into his pockets the way he sometimes did when feeling cornered. Inviting Gemma to dinner was a crazy idea. ‘I just don’t think I have the nerve.’
Mike looked taken aback. ‘Really? But you’ve offered to do it before? It’s only for four days just after Christmas.’ He draped his arm around his wife. ‘We haven’t had any time to ourselves since the boys were born, and neither of us would trust them with anyone else.’ He gave a small sigh, and Joe noticed that he looked rather more tired round the eyes than usual. ‘To be honest, both of us could do with a bit of a break.’
Lynette was laughing now. ‘Joe and I were talking about Gemma! I hadn’t got round to asking him about the boys yet.’ She gently touched Joe’s arm. ‘I found this great deal in the paper; it’s a four-day trip to Venice, and we wondered if you could possibly . . .’
‘Have the boys?’ Joe understood at last. ‘I can think of nothing that I’d like to do better. Well, only one thing, and to be honest, I’m pretty sure that’s out of the question.’
‘Uncle Joe, Uncle Joe! Are you going to look after us in your cool London flat for two days squared?’
He’d taught them well!
‘Uncle Joe, Uncle Joe, can we go to Madame Two Swords?’
‘May’, corrected Lynette. ‘May, not can.’
‘Uncle Joe, Uncle Joe, can we go to bed really, really late?’
What had he got himself into? Four glorious days with his wonderful godsons. He couldn’t wait.
Chapter 66
IT WAS NEARLY nine o’clock when they’d finally finished clearing up. Both Joe and Gemma, who was rather quiet, had insisted that Bella left early as she was having yet another engagement drinks do with her friends. ‘It’s much better the second time round,’ her assistant assured them both with all the confidence of a twenty-three-year-old. ‘We’ve matured. Honest.’
Natasha’s mother had come up to them to say that if it was all right with them, she would like her daughter to continue at Puddleducks next term.
‘I’ve got a new book,’ said Natasha, whom he still couldn’t stop thinking of as Lily. Solemnly, she handed them a well-thumbed book with cardboard pages and brightly coloured illustrations, the text in a foreign language.
‘It was Mama’s when she was small.’ Natasha/Lily gripped her mother’s hand. ‘I am teaching her some English words too.’
That child’s English was better than that spoken by many of the kids around here who came from wealthy backgrounds. Feeling moved and needing to root himself in reality, Joe helped gather up all the left-behind shoes and sandwich boxes and mobile phones for the Lost Property box, and then Gemma said a subdued goodnight, leaving him to lock up.
Had Lynette been right about the argument she’d overheard, or was Gemma just tired?
‘Very well done,’ said Beryl, as she left with him. ‘Actually Joe, I wonder if I could have a word. I was going to leave it until tomorrow, but as you’re here, I thought I’d ask. Have you got another job yet?’
If this had been yesterday, he’d have said no. But even as she spoke, he felt in his pocket for the envelope that was tangible proof. His old school, after rejecting him, had gone for someone else, which had hurt. But a similar school, in Brixton, had made him an offer.
‘I have, actually.’
Beryl’s face fell. ‘That’s a shame. Oh well. Just thought I’d ask. Goodnight. And well done.’
You silly oaf, Joe thought as he went out into the car park in the cold dark night air. You could at least have asked her the reason for her enquiry. It would have been nice to have heard her say that she wanted him to stay on.
Swinging his right leg over the saddle, he turned the key in the engine. He might still have said no; in fact, he would definitely have said no, but on the other hand . . .
What was that? Joe felt the vibration pass right through him as the bike reversed. No. Please n
o. He’d hit something. Even worse, there was the sound of someone weeping.
Chapter 67
‘YOU IDIOT! DIDN’T you see me?’ Gemma could hardly believe what had just happened. Joe had shot straight into her as though she hadn’t been there!
‘Are you all right?’ His voice rang through the night, sounding panicky, not like cool, self-possessed Joe at all.
‘Luckily I am,’ she said tearfully, bending and running her hands over her poor car’s dented bonnet. ‘But Gran’s lights are smashed and there’s a horrible bump in the front.’
‘Your grandmother?’ repeated the voice, coming nearer. ‘What’s she doing here?’
‘She’s not, you twit. She’s dead. That’s the whole point. This was my gran’s car and she’s ancient. I mean the lights are ancient.’ Gemma sniffed, wiping her nose on the sleeve of her lovely wedding dress in the absence of a tissue. ‘Morris is one of the few things I’ve got left of her – even if I can replace the lights, they’ll cost a fortune.’
It was no good. On top of everything that had happened this evening with Barry, this was too much. Sinking to the ground, Gemma put her head on her knees to shut out the rest of the world and sobbed. She cried for her grandmother. She cried for Sam, whom she’d waited for, in vain, for so long. She cried for Danny and Lily out of relief. And she cried for Barry, who, although he ticked all the right boxes, had turned out to be another false hope.
‘I’m sorry.’ Joe sounded as though he really meant it. ‘I know what it’s like to lose something precious.’
Then suddenly she felt something warm around her. Gemma stiffened. It was Joe’s arm. He was actually sitting down on the ground next to her, with his arm around her, stroking her shoulder and gently pulling her towards him so that she was leaning into his body.
‘What on earth do you think you’re doing?’ she began to say, but the rhythmic stroking motions were doing something to her; something which she could hardly put into words. Was she imagining all this? Was it possible that Joe Balls, head of Reception, who could still at times annoy her with his ‘I know best’ attitude, was giving her a cuddle? And if so, why wasn’t she pushing him off and telling him that he was the last person in the world she thought of in that way and that he honestly wasn’t her type?