Is This It?

by Hannah Tovey

  ‘I told you not to speak to Jake.’

  ‘How do you even know him?’

  ‘Remember the voiceover I did for the fish finger advert a few years ago? Well, he was the sound engineer. He was going through a hard time; I think his wife had just left him. I don’t know, I felt bad for the guy.’

  ‘You need to stop doing this.’

  ‘Doing what?’

  ‘Trying to be everyone’s friend.’

  ‘Do you want to sit in the living room with me and talk shit about everyone?’

  ‘Always,’ I said.

  We took a seat on the sofa, in full view of the dance floor. There was Leanne, a mediocre TV actress, being felt up in the middle of the room. Beside her was Luke, who we shared halls with in Bristol. Luke hates people and loves smoking weed. He shows up everywhere, despite the fact that neither me or Mia have had a proper conversation with him in over a decade. Then there was our old neighbour, a goth called Rowan. He used to be quite the talker but now he just stands in the corner of the room and glares at everyone like he’s plotting a mass murder.

  ‘Let’s play Shag, Marry or Kill,’ Mia said.

  ‘OK. Luke, Leanne and Rowan.’

  Mia threw her head back and laughed.

  ‘Sometimes I think we should film the people in this room,’ I said, ‘so that, in years to come, we can have proof that they existed.’

  ‘Fuck no, I’d get arrested.’

  She looked at Luke, then to Leanne, then to Rowan.

  ‘Right. I’d marry Luke.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘Because he’s so out of it all the time. I could do whatever I wanted.’

  ‘Fair point.’

  ‘I’d kill Leanne.’

  ‘That’s harsh.’

  ‘Do you remember the time she broke my hair straighteners?’

  ‘So, you’d shag Rowan? He’s the sort of person who’d wank over your dead body.’

  ‘Do you not think he’s sexy? Imagine those dark, brooding eyes luring you into bed.’

  ‘Are you well?’

  ‘Shall we go upstairs to play dress-up and dance to Taylor Swift? I want to be Folklore Taylor, you can be 1989 Taylor.’

  I laughed. ‘I love you, Mia Bradley.’

  She kissed me smack on the lips.

  ‘You too, Ivy Edwards.’

  As we were walking up the stairs I saw a message on my phone. It was Scott.

  ‘I can’t stop thinking about you. When am I taking you out? x’

  I showed Mia and we did a little dance on the landing, before going into her bedroom and closing the door.

  19

  I spent the next few days in a state of dreamlike euphoria. We flirted several times over the phone, where we discussed what our mastermind round would be, where our favourite pub was, and what we would cook for Adele if she came over for dinner (this was more of a one-sided conversation on my part). I told him he could take me out on Thursday, the day after my birthday, because Anna had planned a little something at hers for the actual day. She’d bought Eleanor a new outfit for the occasion, and there’d be cake and wine – the fancy sort that I couldn’t afford to buy myself.

  I was telling Anna how much I liked Scott, and how uncomfortable that made me feel because I barely knew him.

  ‘Do you think that’s strange?’ I asked her.

  She mumbled something inaudible. It was obvious she wasn’t listening.

  I bounced Eleanor up and down as we stood in front of the mirror.

  ‘I was thinking of wearing this jumper on the date tomorrow,’ I said. ‘It’s one of Mam’s. Cashmere always makes me feel classier than I actually am.’

  I tickled Eleanor on her belly.

  ‘Don’t you look divine in your little dungarees,’ I said to her. They had a rainbow on the front with her name embroidered in gold letters.

  She started to cry. Anna walked over and took her off me.

  ‘She’s like clingfilm with me these days, don’t take it personally.’

  ‘I can try and hold her in another position.’

  ‘No, it’s not worth it.’

  I went back to looking at myself in the mirror. ‘I thought I could borrow your miniskirt for tomorrow. The dark burgundy leather one?’

  ‘Yup.’

  ‘I never wear miniskirts, but Mia said I need to start appreciating my legs.’

  Anna was making fart noises on Eleanor’s belly now, and Eleanor was shrieking with laughter.

  ‘Anna, can we have a proper conversation, please?’

  She looked at me suspiciously.

  ‘You look different? Have you changed your hair?’

  ‘Yes. I had a trim yesterday.’

  ‘And you’ve had your eyebrows done.’

  ‘It’s my birthday and I have a date, it’s a very important week.’

  Her attention was back on Eleanor again. I walked into the bedroom to get the skirt.

  ‘I think I need to cut back on the cakes,’ I said, walking back into the living room.

  ‘Nice.’

  ‘I’ve seen a sharp increase in back fat since I started my training.’

  She didn’t even look up at me.

  ‘Anna?’

  ‘What?’

  ‘Have you been listening to anything I’ve said?’

  ‘Sorry. I’ll put Eleanor down, then you can have my full, undivided attention.’

  ‘I don’t want you to put Eleanor down; I want to have a proper conversation with you.’

  Anna began setting the table for dinner, so I moved down on the floor and started singing ‘Wind the Bobbin Up’ to Eleanor.

  ‘Have you talked to Mam today?’ I asked.

  ‘No. I swear to God, if she makes one more comment about how much she loved her post-partum body, I’m going to scream.’

  ‘Does post-partum mean post-birth?’

  ‘I’m thrilled that her breasts popped back into shape and her thighs weren’t covered in stretch marks. I’m absolutely fucking ecstatic.’

  ‘She’s trying to find common ground, Anna.’

  ‘I don’t want to talk about it.’

  I went back to Eleanor, but I could feel Anna’s eyes on me.

  ‘Why are you looking at me like that?’ I said, turning around. ‘What have I done now?’

  ‘Have you told Scott that you want children?’

  ‘We haven’t been on a date yet, Anna.’

  ‘I see the way you look at Eleanor.’

  ‘I look at Eleanor like this because she is perfection—’

  ‘You’ve got to at least consider this. You’re thirty-three now.’

  ‘You’re the one always banging on that age is just a number.’

  ‘It is, aside from when it comes to your ovaries. This is science, Ivy.’

  ‘You’ve changed your tune.’

  ‘What if you date him for three years and then find out he doesn’t want children? What will you do then?’

  ‘We’ve just met! How would I even approach the subject? “Oh, by the way, my sister feels very strongly that I tell you that, sometime in the future, I’ll probably want children. Not sure how I feel about it now, but I wanted to take this opportunity and scare you into never having sex with me”.’

  ‘I’m just saying … ’

  ‘You sound like Mam.’

  ‘Don’t say that!’

  I started to argue with her but was interrupted by Mark. He walked into the room carrying a bouquet of blue hydrangeas.

  ‘Happy birthday, Ivy,’ he said, kissing me on both cheeks. ‘These are for you.’

  ‘Thank you, Mark. They’re gorgeous.’

  He might occasionally come home too late and he gets nervous if he has to drive over forty miles an hour, but I’d be lucky to find someone who had an ounce of Mark in them. He often catches me staring at him, which I know makes him feel uncomfortable, but then again, a lot of things I do make Mark feel uncomfortable. Number one on the list is how much time I spend at his house.
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br />   ‘You look different,’ he said to me.

  ‘Different?’

  ‘Yeah, you look good.’

  ‘I’m not sure how to take that.’

  ‘She’s put on weight,’ Anna said, ‘Too many cakes.’

  I grabbed Sophie the Giraffe and threw it at her head.

  ‘You almost hit Eleanor!’

  ‘You are insufferable,’ I said.

  I looked out to the classroom feeling calm, optimistic and in control of my life. Here I was, with a new man and a new career. At last, I was a fully fledged adult. But as I was daydreaming about stroking Scott’s stunningly smooth neck, Nancy ran in, screaming at me, and I was reminded that I was a teacher trainee, and any moment of solitude I ever experienced in the classroom would always be directly followed by complete mayhem.

  ‘Miss,’ she said, ‘come quick!’

  Her thick-rimmed glasses were covered in dirt and she was so worked up she could hardly breathe. She looked like one of those mad scientists, just without the extensive intellect that comes with a higher education.

  ‘Nancy, please stop running in and out of class.’

  ‘But Miss, Horatio is stuck.’

  ‘Where is he stuck?’

  ‘In the toilet, Miss.’

  ‘Is he actually in the toilet?’

  Nancy often erred on the theatrical side, so it was important to get the full story before I could assess how to proceed.

  ‘Erm, I don’t know, Miss. But the pea is stuck.’

  Mr Reid wasn’t in the classroom, and I couldn’t leave a room full of four-year-olds unsupervised, so I asked Nancy if she would go and find Mrs Alan and tell her I needed to see her urgently. Nancy howled.

  ‘I don’t like Mrs Alan,’ she said. ‘She wouldn’t let me sit next to Mabel in assembly.’

  Her lip was quivering, and her little body started to shake. She closed her eyes and squeezed both fists into angry balls.

  ‘Nancy, please. This is really important.’

  ‘I don’t want to!’ she cried. She squatted on the floor and lifted her dress so that it was covering her entire face, revealing her knickers to everyone in the room. The blue elephant with the yellow tail reminded me it was Thursday.

  Mr Reid walked back into the class. I grabbed Nancy, told Mr Reid I would explain later, and ran off with her to find Horatio. I found him standing outside the toilets, in fits of laughter, with one single garden pea stuck up his nostril.

  Mrs Alan had heard the commotion from her classroom and came out to scold everyone, me included.

  ‘How am I supposed to start my lesson when your voices are like foghorns! What on earth is going on?’

  Horatio pointed to his nose, where the single pea from his cottage pie was wedged. Nancy was hiding between my legs. I had tried to tell her that Mrs Alan was a gentle woman at heart, but Nancy thought she was Miss Trunchbull reincarnated, and there was nothing I could say to change her mind. To be fair, I also thought Mrs Alan was Miss Trunchbull reincarnated, but part of my job was to fake confidence and cheeriness at every opportunity, so that’s what I did.

  ‘We need to take him to A&E,’ I said.

  ‘I can assure you, you do not need to take him to A&E, Miss Edwards. The most effective way to deal with a foreign object in the nasal passage is to place your mouth over the child’s mouth to form a firm seal, hold the unaffected nostril with your finger, and blow.’

  I looked at the layer of dried snot on Horatio’s upper lip. I moved closer to Mrs Alan and lowered my voice to a whisper.

  ‘I feel like you’ve done this before, so perhaps you should do it, and I’ll watch and take note.’

  ‘Absolutely not. You must learn, Ivy. I’ve been here a hundred times before, be it with raisins or marbles or peas. With a little bit of force, the pea will come out of the nasal passage and all will be well.’

  ‘OK, but, can you at least supervise me? Please?’

  ‘Ivy, my class is waiting for me.’

  I wanted to give her the finger but swearing in front of children is inappropriate, so I thanked her for her recommendation, then walked to the nurse’s office.

  Turns out, there isn’t a dignified way to give mouth-to-mouth to a small child. After ringing Horatio’s mother to confirm that she was on board with Mrs Alan’s suggestion, I told Horatio he’d need to be a brave boy whilst the nurse tried to excavate the pea. Luckily for me, the nurse was new on the job too, and, eager to please, offered to perform the procedure herself. Horatio’s floppy, white as white hair kept getting in the way, so it took the two of us to get him into a position where his mouth was clear. I held the other nostril shut as the nurse put her mouth over his and blew. After the sixth attempt, the garden pea shot out and Horatio laughed so much that he wet himself.

  Back in the classroom, the children were getting ready for PE. Mr Reid said he was proud of me for handling the situation so calmly. I wondered how he’d forgotten that he’d walked back into class and was greeted by Nancy’s bottom.

  Horatio was parading around the classroom like he’d just won a heavyweight boxing match, whilst all the boys crowded around him, asking to see the infamous pea. When I told them that the pea had been disposed of, they turned into an angry mob, and Mr Reid had to quieten them down.

  Nancy was standing next to me, surveying the room, with a bemused expression on her face that mirrored my own.

  ‘I’m not sure about boys, Miss.’

  ‘What do you mean, Nancy?’

  ‘Sometimes I like them. But sometimes, like today, I don’t.’

  ‘We all have our quirks.’

  ‘What’s a quirk?’

  ‘It means we all have our moments, when we play up and annoy others with our behaviour.’

  ‘Sammy said I was annoying.’

  ‘You, Nancy, are anything but annoying.’

  ‘Do you want to play with me?’

  ‘Just me and you, or the boys too?’

  ‘I don’t think I’m ready to play with boys.’

  I looked at her and realised that maybe I wasn’t either.

  20

  Scott had booked us a table at a wine bar in Soho. It had low, romantic lighting, the sort that creates a flattering ambient glow that makes you feel instantly more attractive. I sat down, ordered a glass of wine, and rang Mam. I thought she would help calm my nerves, but then I remembered that she was my mother, and this conversation was going to do nothing to level my blood pressure. It took all of sixty seconds before she went off on one of her notorious tangents.

  ‘That reminds me,’ she said, after I told her about Horatio and the pea, ‘I saw Huw’s mother last week.’

  ‘Who?’

  ‘You know Huw, from school? He liked to stick things up his nose? His mother sends her love. I was thinking, Huw’s quite the looker now. I told her that you would get in touch with him next time you’re home.’

  ‘I wish you wouldn’t do that. I’ve not seen him since school. He was weird then; God knows what he’s like now.’

  ‘He wasn’t weird. He just liked to put things up places, that’s all.’

  ‘There’s a line.’

  ‘A line?’

  ‘Yes, a line to determine when and where it’s appropriate for you to pawn me off on your friends.’

  ‘I wouldn’t call Huw’s mother a friend, darling. I hardly know the woman.’

  ‘I can’t think of Huw tonight, I’ve got a date.’

  ‘Of course! I’m so proud of you – making your way out into the scary world of dating again. You must ring me first thing tomorrow morning. I want to know everything.’

  ‘I’ll do you a summary text.’

  ‘When was the last time you got tested?’

  ‘Tested?’

  ‘For sexually transmitted diseases.’

  ‘I’m not having this conversation with you, Mam.’

  ‘Why didn’t you go see Tanya when you were last home? She could’ve done you a little check-up.’

  ‘I don�
��t like the way Tanya looks at me.’

  ‘Well, if you didn’t waste all your holidays back from uni in her clinic, asking for free condoms, maybe things would be different.’

  ‘She’s so judgemental.’

  ‘To you, yes. Because of all the condom requests.’

  ‘Can you pass the phone to Dad, please?’

  ‘Of course, darling. Now be good tonight. Don’t drink too much. And don’t do that thing where you get nervous and talk too fast.’

  ‘I don’t do that.’

  ‘And for goodness’ sakes, don’t call him Jamie.’

  ‘Why would I call him the name of my ex-fiancé?’

  ‘I don’t know. You do lots of things I don’t understand.’

  ‘Well, this has been stimulating, thank you.’

  She passed Dad the phone. He sounded very distressed.

  ‘What’s the matter?’ I asked.

  ‘It’s the margaritas. I didn’t close the lid of the blender and the liquid’s gone everywhere.’

  ‘Why are you making margaritas at five thirty on a Thursday?’

  ‘Your mother’s got the girls coming over. Fundraising for some sort of rare facial paralysis thing.’

  ‘I thought she wasn’t doing that any more?’

  ‘She says I need to try new things.’

  ‘So, take up a hobby.’

  ‘Your mother says margaritas are a hobby.’

  ‘Well, good luck.’

  ‘Good luck to you too, Ives. Don’t drink too much.’

  ‘Why does everyone keep saying that?’

  ‘Darling, come on.’

  He had a point.

  I nursed my drink and waited for Scott’s arrival. Mia said that having one drink before the date would give me some much-needed Dutch courage, but anything more would be reckless, which was rich coming from her.

  Right on time, Scott walked into the bar wearing a white Oxford shirt, rolled up to his elbows, revealing those delicious forearms (I will stop going on about his forearms at some point). When he saw me, his face lit up and he began to bounce enthusiastically in my direction. I couldn’t work out whether he was excited to see me or had some sort of nervous tick.

  I stood up to greet him.

  ‘Happy birthday, Ivy.’

  His lips moved past my mouth as he kissed me softly on the cheek. He smelt heavenly, with just the right hint of aftershave.