by Sophie King
He raised his eyebrows. ‘Sure. How old is she again?’
‘Twelve,’ said Susan quickly. She knew he thought she was fussing, but let him. She didn’t want him to know about Tabitha (not yet, anyway) because he might feel her domestic responsibilities would make her unreliable. ‘Do you mind if I borrow your mobile, Simon? My battery’s running low.’
‘Course not. Here.’ He passed it to her and their hands brushed briefly. She flushed.
‘Steff, it’s me.’
‘Sue? Didn’t recognise your number.’
‘No, my battery’s out,’ she glanced at Simon, ‘and I had to borrow someone’s. How’s Tabitha?’
‘Happy as Larry. We’re just off now to the Odeon.’
Briefly, Susan explained she was going out to supper but would still be back for nine.
‘Have a lovely time. With someone nice, are you?’
Steff had read the wrong thing into the mobile number. ‘No. I mean, yes. See you later.’
‘Everything all right?’ asked Simon, as she handed back the phone.
‘Yes, thanks. Do you have children?’
‘Me?’ He seemed bemused, as though the idea had never occurred to him. ‘No, not yet. Too much else going on to think about settling down, despite all the hints my mother started dropping from the minute I was thirty.’
So he wasn’t that much younger than her, she thought, as he swung sharply left into the pub car park, then leaped out to open her door before she had time to do it herself.
‘Thanks.’
‘Susie?’ His eyes held hers for a second.
‘Yes?’
‘You don’t have to keep thanking me all the time, you know. Believe me, it’s me who should be thanking you. We were desperate for an extra pair of hands and you seem to fit the bill exactly.’
The pub was nice. It had dark wooden tables with candles in the middle. There was so much on the menu and on the blackboard that, after years of not going out apart from the odd birthday treat with her dad, June and Tabitha, she floundered, unable to make up her mind.
‘The lasagne’s very good,’ suggested Simon. ‘Do you prefer red or white?’
She meant to say red but somehow white came out, which was stupid because white wine always gave her headaches. But then it seemed too late to take it back and somehow she found herself sipping a rather large glass of Chardonnay and smoothing down her navy skirt, which was riding up.
‘So, tell me about yourself, Susie. How long have you been on your own?’
Was it that obvious? She’d mentioned her ex but she might have had someone else. Then again, if she did, she probably wouldn’t have been free for supper on Saturday night. ‘Nearly eleven years.’
He whistled beneath his breath. ‘Too scared to take the plunge again?’
This was getting a bit too intimate for a conversation with someone she’d only just met. If she’d known him better, she would have explained that it was because, first, she hadn’t met the right person and, second, only a very special man would take on Tabitha. Instead she said, ‘Something like that,’ and tried to laugh it off, steering the conversation back to work. ‘Have you been at Green and Co long?’
‘About a year.’
He didn’t want to discuss it, thought Susan, desperately searching for another subject. Luckily, he took the lead.
‘Have you seen that new drama on Monday nights? It’s a serialisation of Martina Cole’s latest.’
She breathed a sigh of relief. She was hooked on it, and also on Martina Cole’s books, which she got from the library. From then on, they talked and talked, about books, television programmes and films, although Susan was only familiar with those that had been released on DVD.
‘I can’t believe you haven’t seen the new Tom Cruise.’
For a second, she was almost tempted to come clean about Tabitha and how difficult it was to leave her. ‘I can’t afford to go out much,’ she said lamely. ‘The cinema isn’t expensive, I know, but it all adds up.’
He nodded understandingly. ‘I’ve often thought how hard it must be for single mothers on their own.’
‘It has its advantages,’ said Susan, hastily, not wanting him to feel sorry for her. ‘You can do as you like when you like.’
‘Apart from going out,’ he teased.
‘Well, the new going out is staying in,’ she pointed out.
‘Very true.’ He grinned and, for a second, she felt quite pleased with herself. Then he glanced at his watch. ‘Sorry, but I have to go. I promised to pick up my mother and take her to a friend’s.’
So he was caring, too. ‘Can I go halves?’ She opened her purse. Simon waved it away. He had sounded slightly slurred and she tried to remember how much he had drunk. Too much to drive her home? But she couldn’t say something or it would look rude.
‘No, the pleasure’s mine. Besides, it’s on the company. We can say we talked shop, can’t we?’
To her relief he drove steadily, even though she could smell the drink on his breath from the passenger seat. She couldn’t help thinking that if this was work it was much more fun than people made out.
‘Thanks for a lovely evening,’ she said, as Simon dropped her off outside the house. Getting out of the car, she felt shamefully glad it was dusk so that he couldn’t see the handrails running up the sides of the garden path.
‘Thanks for coming with me.’ His eyes held hers for a second, until embarrassed, she fumbled in her handbag for her key. ‘See you,’ he called.
Susan waved back. As she slid the key into the lock, she realised she should have gone back to work a long time ago. For the first time in years, she felt useful – no, more than that. She almost felt good about herself.
Within a few minutes Tabitha was back so it was lucky she hadn’t been any later. One glance at her daughter’s animated face and she had no need to ask how the cinema trip had gone.
‘We saw the new Tom Cruise film,’ Steff said excitedly, ‘and don’t worry, it was a twelve. Seen it, have you?’
‘No,’ said Susan. ‘I don’t get out often.’
Josh put his arm round Steff. ‘I can’t tell you how much this has meant to us. Steff said you might consider letting her come to us overnight next time.’
‘I said I’d think about it.’
‘It would be great if you could. I know I haven’t been much help in the past but I want to make up for it now. I really do.’
No need to tell him about the job yet and the promise she’d made to work every other weekend, an arrangement that depended on him having Tabitha.
‘Did you enjoy your dinner?’ asked Steff, eyes glittering with curiosity.
‘Yes, it was fun.’
‘Out with a friend, were you?’
‘That’s right. Come along, Tabitha, let’s get you to bed. It’s past your usual bedtime, isn’t it?’
‘See you, then.’ Josh clearly didn’t want to go.
‘Yes. Better get on now.’ Susan made to shut the door.
‘You’re doing a great job, Sue.’
Steff’s teeth would fall out if she didn’t stop nodding like that. Funny. She’d never have put her down as Josh’s type. Still, people could change. Or they might be completely different from the kind of person you had them down as in the first place. It was enough to make you wonder if you ever really knew someone at all.
29
Keep Your Child Safe on the Internet.
Lisa kept thinking about that one. When Rose was older, she wouldn’t let her go on it at all. Far too dangerous. She’d also make sure she said ta nicely, went to mass every now and then and washed her hands after going to the toilet. These days, parents let their kids get away with anything.
‘Mrs Smith, can you help me write my name?’
Lisa crouched next to Daisy, breathing in her smell: fabric conditioner mixed with glue. ‘Put your hand over mine while I trace the letters. Good girl.’ Lisa tried to sound positive but there was no escaping the fact that Daisy�
�s letters were all wonky. If her mum was at home, instead of working, she could have helped her. That was another reason why Lisa was determined not to work after Rose was born. Besides, the baby’s dad ought to help with maintenance. ‘Now do it on your own. Hold the pencil like this. Cool!’
Daisy’s face lit up. ‘Can I do some painting now?’
‘Why not?’ Lisa spread out an old newspaper sheet on the table, carefully covering the vinyl surface in the way that Mrs Perkins insisted. As she did so, something caught her eye at the top of the page: MATERNITY UNIT CRITICISED FOR CAMERA THAT DIDN’T WORK.
‘Can I have the orange paint, Mrs Smith?’
‘Hang on a minute, Daisy. I just want to read this.’
Lisa had never been a fast reader. She’d only just got to the bit about the technicians not mending the security cameras – luckily, no baby was snatched, but the point was that one could have been – when Mrs Perkins loomed up. ‘Lisa, I’ve told you before. Daisy’s group is on the painting rota after lunch. She can’t do what she wants when she wants.’
Daisy made a face. Luckily, Mrs Perkins’s back was turned by then.
‘Never mind.’ Lisa took her hand quickly before anyone saw this display of affection. ‘Let’s go and play in the sandpit, shall we?’
Whoops, the old bat was coming back. ‘Lisa, can I have a word? Daisy, go to the slide, please.’
Lisa stood there, arms folded, bracing herself for what was coming.
‘Lisa, I know you’re fond of Daisy but we can’t afford to have favourites. I’ve told you before, we can’t show physical affection, like holding hands, in today’s age of litigation. Besides, you’re here for all the children, not just the ones you like. Now, I want you to help Aaron with his colours. Oh, and, Lisa?’
What now?
‘Next week, I’d like you to be in the baby room for a few days while Annie’s on holiday. I’ll run over your duties with you but it’s mainly changing nappies and making up bottles. You did that in your last job, didn’t you?’
Lisa nodded, feeling a glow of excitement creeping over her. The baby room! No one could stop her picking one up there: it was part of her job. No one could stop her breathing them in and holding them to her, feeling their little chests rise and fall against her own. It would be almost like having a baby of her own.
Oh, Sky and Hayley. Where are you?
Tears pricked her eyes. It got her like that, when she was least expecting it. It would help if she could talk to Earth Mother or one of the others. Lisa wiped her eyes and blew her nose on a square of loo paper up her sleeve. Maybe, she’d nip in to the special-needs centre next door in her dinner hour. With any luck, one of the computers might be free.
No one minded when she asked if she could log on for a bit. Lisa waved to a couple of mums she knew and found a computer in the corner where no one else was sitting.
From Expectent Mum to What Mums Know: I’ve had a really bad day today. I can’t stop thinking about Sky. She’s the baby I lost after Hayley. Id got to thirteen weeks when one night I had a terible dream. I was in the dentist’s chair and he was pulling a tooth out. But it wasnt from my mouth. It was from my other end, if you know what I mean. I woke up and it was like I had the cramps. So I went to the toilet and there was all this bright red stuff in my knickers. When I wiped myself, something like a plastic bubel came out with the paper. I squezd it and it was all soft and squigy. Kiki, my neybur, said I ouhgt to put it in a bag and take it with me to the hospital. I saw this ginger doctor – right know-all, he was.
He sent me for a scan and then said that there was nothing left. Their didn’t seem much point in giving him the stuff I’d broght in the bag. So I put it in a bin outside in the coridor.
Later, after they’d given me a D and C to clear me out, I told one of the nurses about the bubel.
‘That might have been the sack, love,’ she said. ‘You know, the sack that the baby’s in.’
I screamed then. Screamed the ward down and demanded that the nurse went to get it out of the bin. But it had been emptied.
I HAD THROWN MY BABY AWAY!
‘You all right, love?’
Through a blur of tears, Lisa made out Tabitha’s mum. She was frowning anxiously.
Hurriedly, she pressed Send and logged off. ‘I think I’ve got a cold coming.’
Susan patted her shoulder. ‘Better go home, then, don’t you think? Specially in your condition.’
Lisa nodded. Why not? She’d tell Mrs Perkins she was sick and go and have a lie-down. She stroked her stomach tenderly, three times to the left; three times to the right. Positive thinking. That’s what Earth Mother was always saying. Lisa took a deep breath. It was going to be all right. It was going to be all right. Keep saying it and it would work.
EMAIL FROM SUSAN THOMAS
‘Hi, Dad! Thanks for your message. My first day at work went brilliantly, I think. And Tabs was fine. Will ring again soon for a proper chat.’
EMAIL TO LISA SMITH
Dear Lisa,
Thank you for your interest in our new website, MAKE YOUR OWN LUCK!, as featured on TV. Ever wondered why some people are luckier than others? It’s because they BELIEVE they will be successful. Want to know more? All you have to do is send your credit-card details to the following address. . .
MESSAGE FROM FLORRIE SUMMERS
Dear Kari,
Check this out! Dad caught Freddy on this and now he’s in real trouble!
EMAIL FROM CAROLINE CRAWFORD
‘Janie – I desperately need some sisterly advice. Can’t email in case anyone sees it at your end. I’ll ring again tomorrow night at about ten p.m. your time.’
WHAT MUMS KNOW
OUR ONLINE DEBATE ABOUT WOMEN AND AFFAIRS IS REALLY HEATING UP!
From Scummy Mummy: My friend had an affair with a married man who said he’d leave his family for her. He did and they’ve been together for ten years. So affairs aren’t always wrong.
From Lawyer Mum: Take it from me, both professionally and personally, it’s not worth it.
TIP FROM FRAN 3
Get the kids to show you how the Net works. It makes them feel grown-up – and it’s free tuition!
CHUCKLE CORNER FROM ANON OF ALDERSHOT
Q: Do you ever wake up grumpy?
A: No, I just tiptoe past him in the mornings . . .
THOUGHT TO KEEP YOU SANE FROM ALI OF SLOUGH
One day, the kids will leave home. But if you’ve treated them nice, they might just come back.
PARENTING NEWS
A new survey has shown that fish oil can definitely improve concentration in a child but only if it’s the right kind.
30
She hadn’t realised how much fun emails could be when they weren’t work-related.
From: Mark Summers
To: Caroline Crawford
Thanks for lunch. I really enjoyed it. And don’t worry about Part Time Mum confessions. It’s between you and me.
Well-mannered. Funny. Warm. Sexy. Stop right there. As Janie had said, she was playing a very dangerous game.
I enjoyed it too. It was such a relief to talk to someone who really understood.
She felt a bit guilty writing that. Jeff had tried to understand but he was Roger’s friend. He was sending another message.
No easy answers, are there?
Spot on, again.
I married Hilary because I was flattered that she needed me. When you think about it, most of us marry for reasons that seem illogical, with hindsight. Very true. Sorry but got 2 go. Daphne’s just arrived.
Daphne?
Maybe he, too, felt they’d been over-familiar because after that he sent more general emails, about the children and a book he was reading, which, funnily enough, she had just finished herself. She took care to ensure hers were equally neutral. It had been a while since their lunch and so much had happened. Georgie was heavily into the hockey season and, miraculously, Ben had got himself an evening job stacking shelves at Tesco. It m
eant he didn’t drive back until three a.m. or even later, which meant Caroline couldn’t sleep properly until she heard his key in the lock. But it was a job.
‘Not much of one, is it?’ Roger had said heavily. ‘He’d have been better off taking the post I got him at the office. It would have looked better on his CV if and when he applies for a real job after university.’
Annabel had emailed to say she was in Queensland, on her way to Sydney. Caroline knew she had to let go of her daughter but she still woke up every morning wondering where Annabel was and if she was all right. Sometimes she confided these fears to her husband although his response was always the same: ‘She’ll be fine. You fuss too much.’
On top of everything else, Roger was even more distant than usual. So much for a united family front, thought Caroline, as she leafed through the pile of paper on her desk to find the one press release she needed. There it was: Educational Fun Toys.
‘Ah, Caroline, I’ve been looking for you. Gosh, nice pics.’ It was Serena, the magazine’s picture editor. ‘Like the toys. Good colours for a change.’ Her chest, Caroline noticed jealously, was voluminous and almost heaving out of her T-shirt. ‘Diana tells me you’re going on the shoot tomorrow.’
‘What?’
‘Thought you’d be pleased. Now, look, what we need is . . .’
Seething silently, Caroline forced herself to listen to Serena’s brief. Pictures always thought they were more important than Features: readers look at the pictures before they read the story, Serena was fond of saying. Caroline felt that was incorrect.