by Hannah Tovey
35
I crossed the playground and walked towards him. He flicked his cigarette onto the street.
‘You’re not supposed to smoke on school premises,’ I said.
‘I’m outside.’
‘You’re on school property.’
He moved outside the gates. ‘Better now?’
‘Yes.’
‘Hello, Ivy.’
‘Hello, Jamie.’
‘It’s nice to see you. You look great.’
‘What are you doing here?’
‘I came to support Amit.’
‘He doesn’t need support. He was a sheep.’
‘It’s important I’m here today. His father couldn’t make it.’
‘Do you seriously think this is appropriate?’
‘I don’t want to upset you.’
‘Out of all the people in London, you chose Amit’s mother.’
‘I’m in love with her.’
‘Come off it, Jamie.’
‘I’m being serious.’
‘Whatever. It doesn’t matter. I’m in love now, too.’
It sounded much better in my head.
‘So I hear,’ Jamie said. ‘I’m happy for you.’
‘Are you?’
‘Yes, I’ve always wanted the best for you.’
I walked away before turning back around again.
‘This isn’t about me,’ I said. ‘It’s about a four-year-old boy. It’s not a game – not when children are involved.’
‘I know this isn’t ideal, and I’m sorry. But I care about Amit; I’m trying to do the right thing. I’d like us to be friends, Ivy.’
‘Friends? We can be civil, but I don’t need your friendship.’
‘His mother adores you. Everyone at the school does, it seems.’
‘Thank you, Jamie. That’s truly illuminating. I’m so grateful for such a thorough, in-depth report into my career progression.’
He got another cigarette out of his pocket. I wanted to grab the packet, throw it on the floor and stamp on it. But I didn’t. I clenched my jaw, swore repeatedly in my head, and walked back inside.
My hands were trembling. I stopped off in the bathroom, locked myself in a cubicle and sat down on the toilet seat. I wasn’t going to let myself fall apart. I closed my eyes and took several deep breaths.
Walking out, I caught my reflection in the mirror; there was a blob of icing on my forehead and a unicorn sticker in my hair.
‘For fucking fuck’s sake,’ I said.
I splashed my face with water and went back to class.
Nancy was in the exact same position, picking the last of the icing off the cake. Her mother was standing near her, talking to Hakim’s mother.
‘I’m having some girlfriends over this weekend,’ she said. ‘I’m trying out some new Nadiya Hussain recipes.’
‘Oh, I love Nadiya.’
‘I might try to do my own condiments.’
‘I love a condiment.’
‘Me too. I love a good chutney.’
‘I love an aioli.’
‘You should come over, meet everyone.’
‘I could bring an aioli!’
‘You could bring an aioli!’
Nancy looked up at me.
‘What’s a condiment?’ she asked.
‘It’s a sauce,’ I said.
‘Is a condom a sauce?’
‘Where did you hear that?’
‘Condom!’ she said, louder this time.
‘Nancy, please don’t say that word.’
She almost said it again, but I held my hand to her mouth.
‘You’re not allowed to say that in class, OK?’
‘It’s funny.’
‘It is not.’
‘So why are you laughing?’
‘I’m laughing because I’m remembering a joke Jamar told me earlier,’ I lied.
I walked straight over to the cakes and shoved two frosted vanilla cupcakes in my mouth.
‘Are you OK, Miss?’ Mabel asked.
‘Yes, I just saw my ex-fiancé but it’s not a big deal. I’m over it.’
‘OK!’ she yelled and sprinted off.
After everyone had left, I walked around the room with a bin bag, clearing away the last of the paper plates.
‘Leave that,’ Mr Reid said. ‘I’ll do it later.’
As soon as I sat down on the fuchsia bean bag it hit me, and I couldn’t stop myself from crying. I didn’t know whether I was crying because I’d seen Jamie, or because I’d survived the first term. Either way, I was a mess.
‘I’m so sorry,’ I said. ‘I wasn’t supposed to cry today.’
‘What were you supposed to do?’
‘Remember a simple dance routine, not swear in front of the children.’
I’d also add, not bump into my ex-fiancé with cake on my face, but I kept that to myself.
‘How will I cope without you next term?’ I said.
‘It’s only six weeks, then you’ll be back here with us. You’ll enjoy the change of scenery.’
‘The new teacher isn’t going to be half as good as you.’
‘It’s very easy to judge other people’s authority in the classroom, Ivy. I’d hate to think what you thought of me on your first day.’
‘You scared the living daylights out of me.’
‘Did I?’
‘Yes! You came across all sweet in your grandad waistcoat, but you were terrifying.’
‘Nobody’s ever called me terrifying before; I quite like it.’
I smiled at him. Maybe it was because it was Christmas, but his beard was whiter than ever, and he had the beginnings of a paunch, like he was morphing into a sexy Santa Claus. I often pictured him as a young man, and, before I knew it, I was picturing him as Scott, which meant I was picturing him naked. I faked a cough as I tried to banish the thought from my mind.
‘Here, I got you something,’ he said.
He handed me a parcel with children’s handprints painted all over the paper.
I opened it up to find two bookends – I and E – with the children’s names written inside each one.
I flung my arms around him.
‘Thank you,’ I said.
‘Well done, Ivy. For everything.’
‘Was it the best nativity you’ve ever seen?’
He laughed. ‘Yes, it was.’
I could feel his eyes on me as I read all the names on the bookends.
‘Do you and Scott want to have a drink with Mel and me over Christmas? If it’s awkward, because he’s family and we work together, then I’ll understand.’
‘No, it’s not awkward.’
‘OK, great. Because I’d love to buy you a drink, several drinks in fact, to say thank you.’
‘I’d love that, thank you, Finn.’
‘Finn! My, times are a-changing.’
‘You know what, it doesn’t feel right. I think I’ll stick with Mr Reid.’
He smiled.
‘You should be very, very proud of yourself, Ivy.’
I’d never felt successful at work. I longed to come home from a day in the office feeling like I’d accomplished something. Despite the interaction with my ex-fiancé, and the fact that I looked like I’d been beaten up, I’d achieved a great deal. Some might say I’d achieved something remarkable.
‘Do you ever feel like you’re on the sidelines, watching everyone play?’ I asked him.
‘Ivy, you’re not on the sidelines. You’re captain of the game.’
‘I got fired as captain of my netball team. My coach found me snogging his son before the semi-finals.’
‘Maybe next year I’ll teach you the importance of keeping things to yourself.’
Scott opened the front door and I jumped into his arms.
‘I’m so happy to see you,’ I said.
There were two sourdough pizzas on the kitchen counter, next to a bottle of champagne and a cherry-coloured poinsettia.
‘I wanted to cook, but … ’ he sa
id.
‘Best we stick to our strengths,’ I said, kissing him.
‘Congratulations on a cracking first term, Miss Edwards.’
‘I can’t believe I have to do this all over again – and at another school. Thank God there’s the prospect of a well-paid job at the end of this. Oh no, wait.’
‘Tell me everything. How was the nativity? Was everyone wowed by your world-class choreography?’
‘Jamie was in the audience.’
‘Jamie? As in your ex-fiancé Jamie?’
‘I spoke to him in the playground.’
‘Did you?’
‘I think he’s actually in love with Amit’s mother.’
‘Wow.’
He put his arm around me. ‘I’m sorry, this must be really weird for you.’
‘I actually believed him when he said he was trying to do the best by Amit.’
‘Why does that surprise you?’
‘He’s got a fraught relationship with his father, amongst other things.’
‘Oh, another one of us. I sense a theme here.’
He lifted the hair off my shoulders and started kissing me.
‘I know what you’re trying to do … ’ I said.
‘Is it that obvious?’
‘Hang on, let me turn the oven on first.’
‘I love it when you talk dirty.’
‘Shut up, I’m starving!’
‘Let me do it,’ he said.
‘Put it on one-eighty.’
‘Fan or oven?’
‘You’re learning so fast, aren’t you?’
That night, we sat under the soft cashmere blankets and talked about our best and worst Christmases. His was when his parents separated – it was so distressing that his brother and him got blackout drunk and ended up falling asleep against the fountain in Trafalgar Square. They woke to pigeons picking at their feet, their wallets and phones gone, and there was semen on both their trousers – and it wasn’t their own. I told him my worst one was last year – the one after Gramps died.
‘I can’t talk about him today,’ I said. ‘I’ve cried enough as it is. Tell me about your favourite Christmas.’
‘That’s a no-brainer – when David Beckham bought me a pint in a pub in Fitzrovia.’
‘Wow, David Beckham in the flesh.’
‘I’d let you give David Beckham a hand job.’
‘Why would I want to give David Beckham a hand job?’
‘Because he’s David Beckham.’
‘But what’s in it for me?’
‘Who would you let me have sex with?’
‘Wait, why do I have to give a hand job, but you can have sex?’
‘I don’t make up the rules.’
I mused over this for a few moments as he poured us more champagne.
‘OK … J Lo,’ I said.
‘God, I’d ravage J Lo.’
‘Stop it,’ I laughed. ‘You are disgusting.’
He leant in close to me. ‘But you love me, right?’
‘Yes, I do. I really do.’
*
I couldn’t get Jamie off my mind that night. Yes, I would have preferred that he didn’t show up at my school with such an attractive wintery glow and tell me that he was in love with Amit’s mother. But I took some comfort in the fact that I’d seen him at my place of work, and the world hadn’t ended. It had stopped moving for a bit, but it hadn’t ended, and that’s something.
I’d even argue that, aside from the cake and the sticker, I came across quite mature. Admittedly, I’d rather he be in Mongolia, but he’s not. He’s in London, trying to move on with his life, which is a sentiment I should empathise with.
36
Mam and Dad came up to London a couple of days before Christmas. Scott and I had arranged to meet them in Shadwell, so we could all watch Mr Reid and Mel’s gig, the last one of the year. I thought having Mr Reid and Mel there would take the pressure off meeting Scott, but, if anything, it only made Mam more hyperactive.
They arrived late. Mam had spent the day organising eight hundred photos of Eleanor into albums, but she’d missed out a single photo from Eleanor’s three-and-a-half-month photoshoot, and because everything needed to run in chronological order, she insisted on rearranging the entire collection. Four hours later, she arrived at the pub, frazzled, with Dad by her side with a face of pure exasperation on him.
She ran over and hugged Scott for an inappropriate length of time, then, without letting go of him, asked several questions in quick succession, ending with what he’d be getting for Christmas. The answer was knitted socks from his grandma – the same thing he got every year.
‘Ivy tells me your paternal grandmother was Welsh?’ she said to him.
‘Yes, she was from Llandudno.’
Mam laughed. ‘It’s so cute when English people try to pronounce Welsh names.’
She put her hand on his thigh; I promptly moved it.
‘Was she Welsh speaking?’ Mam asked.
‘She spoke Welsh when she was a child, but then they moved to Coventry, and I think she lost it after that.’
‘Can’t say she’s Welsh then, can you?’
‘Mam, stop it. You don’t speak Welsh. None of us do.’
‘I am learning, Ivy, and we’re from South Wales – proper Wales – so we’re exempt.’
Dad mouthed an apology to Scott.
‘When will you come visit us in Wales?’ Mam asked.
‘I think we’ll come down for half term in February,’ Scott said.
Mam winked at me as Scott put his hand on my leg.
‘I would love that,’ she said. ‘Hopefully we’ll have the car back by then. It’s still at Dai Cars. I don’t know what he’s doing with it. The man moves at the pace of a snail.’
‘It’s been nice … hasn’t it, Mags?’ Dad said. ‘Going out for more walks, getting the heart rate going.’
‘Heart rate? You’re a slower walker than Gramps was, and that’s saying something. Not having a car has been a terrible inconvenience.’
‘You don’t even drive, Mam.’
‘Well, no. But your father likes to drive me everywhere, so I’m thinking of him, I am.’
Dad was silent. The car was a constant bone of contention between the two of them and it was best that nothing else was said on the matter.
‘You see, Scott,’ Mam said, ‘they’ve changed the website.’
‘Mags – please, not the website again,’ Dad said.
Mam continued her ramblings.
‘It’s a nightmare, Scott, is what it is. Since the car’s been out, I’ve been going with Tomos Taxi’s, but he’s been ill, bless him. So, then I went with Glyn’s Global Cars but there’s nothing global about them at all; they can barely speak English!’
‘Mags—’
‘So, with the car in the garage and the taxi services being completely incompetent, I’ve had to take the bus.’ She paused for dramatic effect. ‘And that, Scott, has been one hell of a palaver.’
‘Mags, shall we give this a rest now, yeah?’ Dad said.
‘They changed the bus timetable, see. But the one on the website doesn’t match the one in the station.’ She looked directly at Scott. ‘So, what am I supposed to do?’
He hesitated before answering. ‘I don’t know, Mrs Edwards.’
‘Please, call me Margaret. Linda thinks we should start a petition, but I’ve already complained to the council and I used the last of my fancy stationery. I suppose we’ll just have to see what happens. That’s all we can do, isn’t it?’
Scott was lost for words. I looked across to the bar, where a woman was setting up a fancy-dress box.
‘Oh, Emma’s back,’ I said.
‘Emma?’ Mam asked.
‘You can wear one of her outfits for the night, as long as you donate.’
‘Who are we donating to?’
‘It’s a youth homelessness charity, for LGBTQ plus teenagers.’
‘How marvellous. I love homosexuals.’
‘I’d better go with her,’ Dad said. ‘In case, well … you know.’
‘Yes, please do,’ I said.
‘Really great to meet you,’ Dad said to Scott.
‘Thanks, you too, Tony.’
We watched Dad follow Mam to the bar.
‘What do you think?’ I said.
‘I think we’re going to get along very well,’ Scott said.
*
‘I loved last night so much,’ Mam said. ‘Scott is terrific. I cannot get enough of dimples.’
She was standing in the middle of Anna’s living room, holding a plate of piping-hot crispy bacon.
‘He had a great time,’ I said.
‘You’re sure I wasn’t too much?’
‘You were exactly how I expected you to be.’
‘It was so much fun. I feel so Christmassy today.’
‘Well, it’s Christmas Eve, and you did dress up as an elf last night and sing Wham! until two in the morning.’
‘It was barely midnight.’
‘It was two a.m.’
She ignored this and shoved another piece of bacon in her mouth.
I took a piece off her plate.
‘Ivy, stop it,’ she said, slapping my hand. ‘I need this more than ever today.’
‘This isn’t exactly organic, is it?’
‘I was only supposed to be eating lean South African game meat this holiday, but I can’t find any ostrich. I thought London was meant to be cosmopolitan?’
I walked into the kitchen to see Anna. She was in a foul mood; her and Mark had clearly argued that morning and whilst Mark was doing his best to give off the impression that everything was fine, Anna was stomping around, exhaling loudly so everyone could hear.
‘Why did you make so much food?’ she moaned at me.
‘I thought you’d appreciate it, with Mam and Dad here.’
‘There’s no space in the fridge as it is. Why are you here anyway? I thought you’d be with Scott today.’
‘He’s gone to see some Japanese horror film.’
‘Whatever. Just make yourself useful.’
‘I am. That’s why I came over with the food. Are you OK?’
‘Go out and entertain Mam and Dad,’ she said, putting a can of coke in my hands and ushering me out of the kitchen.
‘What’s her problem?’ I said to Mam.