The Perfect Fit

by Mary Jayne Baker

  I smiled. ‘Sorry, afraid we don’t just dish out northerner status to anyone who moves here. There’s a saying round our way that if you move in from outside the area, your children’s children will still be offcumdens.’

  He frowned. ‘They’ll be what?’

  ‘Offcumdens. Newcomers.’

  I had to laugh at his expression.

  ‘You’ll get used to us.’ I glanced down at the meal he’d prepared. ‘Er, what’re we having?’

  ‘Risotto. Leek and spring onion.’

  ‘Oh. Yum.’

  ‘So how was the pub?’ he asked as I prodded the lumpy mess with my fork.

  ‘Good. It was the open meeting about our pantomime.’

  ‘Well-attended?’

  ‘Mmm, very.’

  There was silence for a moment as we both tried to swallow a mouthful of stodgy risotto.

  ‘Perhaps you should leave them to it, if there were enough to manage without you,’ Cole said. ‘It’s going to be a lot of work.’

  I shrugged. ‘Keeps me off the streets. Anyway, me and Cam enjoyed them when we were kids, seems only right we should pass that along for Pip’s generation. And it feels good to be part of the community again.’ I glanced up from my plate. ‘Hey. Maybe you could get involved too. We could work on it together.’

  I could tell from the look on his face that this was far from Cole’s idea of a good time.

  ‘No, darling, I don’t think so,’ he said. ‘I’ve never understood the whole pantomime thing really. I know it’s an old tradition, but even as a child it seemed rather absurd to me.’

  ‘Ok,’ I said, trying not to feel too disappointed.

  ‘Have you made any new friends?’

  ‘I’ve got to know Lana’s best mate Deano a bit better. And his brother Marcus is a good lad too.’

  He laughed.

  ‘What?’ I said, smiling.

  ‘Can’t leave you alone for a moment, can I?’

  ‘Sorry?’

  ‘Well, I can’t help noticing that these new friends of yours are all men.’

  ‘Oh. Yeah, suppose they are. I mean, not that I’ve looked.’ I looked up from the wine I was using to lubricate the hard-to-swallow risotto. ‘Not jealous, are you?’

  ‘Of course not, darling. I trust you.’

  I squeezed his hand. ‘I know you do.’

  ‘So what will your role be in this pantomime? Are you going to act in it?’

  ‘Dunno. I hadn’t thought about what I’ll do if we actually manage to get it going.’ I paused with fork halfway to my mouth. ‘Wonder if I can act. Never tried.’

  I forced down another mouthful of risotto, trying hard to stop myself grimacing.

  Cole burst out laughing.

  ‘Gosh, I’m sorry, Becky. It tastes like school dinner rice pudding, doesn’t it?’ He glanced down at his plate. ‘It looks like school-dinner rice pudding.’

  ‘No, it… it’s delicious, honestly,’ I said, swallowing hard.

  ‘Admit it. You wouldn’t feed this horror to a homeless dog.’

  ‘Ok, no. I’m quite fond of dogs.’ I started laughing too. ‘You daft sod. Tell you what, why don’t we get takeaway and eat it snuggled on the sofa? I’ll go round my dad’s shop for some fish and chips.’

  ‘That sounds perfect. You’re my favourite person to slum it with.’ He leaned across the table to kiss me. ‘I am sorry, Becky. I’m a terrible cook but I love you.’

  ‘Love you too.’ I ran a finger down his cheek. ‘You know, we don’t have to wait till after the wedding,’ I said in a whisper. ‘We could start right now, tonight. Who knows how long it’ll take?’

  ‘Trying for a baby, you mean?’

  I smiled. ‘Well I wasn’t suggesting getting a budgie.’

  ‘There’s plenty of time, Becky.’

  ‘I know. It’s just… watching Cam and Tom doing the parent thing, and Lana and Stew about to join them, I’ve been thinking about it more lately. They’re all younger than me. I’m starting to feel depressingly like the aged aunty of the family.’

  ‘At thirty-four?’ Cole said, laughing. ‘I haven’t unpacked yet and already you’re planning babies. One thing at a time, ok, darling? Let’s do things the old-fashioned way, just this once.’

  ‘If that’s what you want.’ I left a lingering kiss on his lips and grinned. ‘No harm getting some practice in though, is there? How about bed first, then chips?’

  He smiled. ‘You read my mind.’

  Chapter 8

  ‘All right, where is he?’ Cynthia demanded when I arrived in her and Dad’s garden for Pip’s sixth birthday party.

  ‘Lovely to see you too, Cyn,’ I said, bending to kiss her cheek.

  Cameron was next to her sipping something bright pink out of a champagne flute, and I grabbed him for a hug. ‘Hiya, bro. Made a start on the cocktails already?’

  He laughed. ‘It’s cherryade. Mum let me have it in a big-boy glass.’

  ‘I don’t know how you can drink that stuff, Cam,’ Cynthia said. ‘It’s nothing but e-numbers.’

  ‘Mmm. E-numbers.’ Cam took another sip and poked his tongue out to show us what a fetching shade of Yo-yo-hair pink it’d turned.

  ‘Anyway, don’t change the subject.’ She turned back to me. ‘Where’s Cole, Becky? Me and your dad were all set to make a big effort with him.’

  ‘He is coming,’ I said. ‘He’ll just be a bit late. Something urgent he had to get finished.’

  That’s what he’d told me anyway, some commission that had to be completed by the end of April. He was spending so much time in his attic studio, it felt like I’d barely seen him for the last month.

  I scanned the bunting-strewn garden for Dad. ‘Where is Annie Lennox anyway?’

  ‘God knows,’ Cynthia said. ‘He’ll be somewhere about.’

  ‘Garden looks great, Mum. Thanks for doing this.’ Cameron glanced around, taking in the bouncy castle, the piñata, the giant Jenga and other games Cynthia had hired. ‘You know, you spoil her.’

  ‘Granny’s prerogative.’ She smiled at Pip, who was sitting on the bouncy castle with an assortment of human and teddy friends, plus a puzzled-looking Flash, earnestly explaining to them how a potato masher worked. ‘She’s a strange little thing. Wouldn’t swap her for worlds.’

  ‘Where’d she get the potato masher?’ I asked Cam.

  ‘She stole it from the kitchen. Honestly, the kiddy quad bike we got her’s barely getting a look-in.’

  ‘Oh, there’s Dad,’ I said, spotting a mass of peroxide blonde in the throng. He was deep in conversation with Yolanda near the barbecue, currently being manned by Tom and Stewart. Yolanda was sipping something from a champagne flute that definitely didn’t look like cherryade, resting her fingers on Dad’s arm.

  Cynthia followed my gaze. ‘So he is. With Yo-yo Sommerville.’

  Cameron put his arm round her shoulders. ‘Don’t worry, Mum. He’s too old for her.’

  ‘They’re the same age, practically.’

  ‘Exactly. So he’s about thirty-five years too old for her.’

  ‘Hm. Think I’ll just go get a burger. See what it is they’re talking about.’ She wandered off to the barbecue, looking anxious.

  ‘She thinks he’s having an affair,’ I said to Cameron when she’d gone.

  ‘I know. Do you think he is?’

  I snorted. ‘With Yo-yo? You must be joking.’

  ‘You don’t think he would, do you?’

  I thought about what Cynthia had told me: how her and Dad had first got together. It didn’t sound like she’d shared that information with Cameron, and if she hadn’t I certainly wasn’t going to. It might upset him. It’d certainly shock him. I was starting to think there was a lot about Dad we’d never suspected.

  ‘Dad? Nah,’ I said,
trying to sound casual. ‘He’d never have the initiative.’

  Cam snuck a worried glance at Dad. ‘Still, there’s something going on with him.’

  ‘He’s just panicking about getting old. He’ll get over it, once he’s adjusted to his new status as a sixtysomething.’

  ‘Hope so. Mum’s worried sick about him. Apparently he stayed out all night last Saturday.’

  ‘God, really? That’s not like him.’

  ‘I know.’ He shook himself. ‘Well, let’s not worry about it today. It’s Pip’s day. You know Lana and Stew hired her a magician?’

  ‘Marcus Teasdale. Lana said she was going to.’

  ‘That’s him, Deano’s big brother. Do you know him then?’

  ‘Pretty well. He’s one of the panto gang.’

  ‘Going ok?’

  ‘Early stages, but yeah. I found this company online that sells scripts, got us a Jack and the Beanstalk. Marc’s going to come round next week so we can start making it a bit more Egglethwaitey.’

  ‘What does Cole think about it?’

  ‘He’s not that interested really. I get the feeling he thinks pantos are a bit daft.’

  ‘I mean about you spending time alone with another bloke.’

  ‘No need for him to be jealous, it’s just panto business. Ok, there’ll be a fair bit of innuendo flying around, but I’m sure a few gags about the dame’s dumplings boiling over won’t have us overcome with insatiable lust.’

  ‘Good-looking lad, Marcus Teasdale.’

  ‘Yeah. Shame you’re married, eh?’

  ‘Funny.’ He was staring at me, one of the knowing looks he’d inherited from Cynthia. ‘So you haven’t noticed then.’

  I shrugged. ‘Maybe. Academic, isn’t it? When you’re single you notice things one way, when you’re in a relationship you notice them another. With a little voice that whispers “off limits”.’

  Someone tapped me on the shoulder, and I turned to find Deano and Marcus behind me with a pair of matching grins.

  ‘Teasdale-dum and Teasdale-dee,’ I said, nodding. ‘We were just talking about you.’

  ‘Good things?’ Deano asked.

  ‘Suppose. My brother thinks me and Marcus are using the panto as cover for our torrid affair.’

  ‘Suits me,’ Marcus said. ‘Oh, but I can’t do Tuesdays.’

  ‘Sorry then, no go,’ I said. ‘If you’re going to be my bit on the side I expect 100% commitment, seven days a week. I’m a hot-blooded woman, you know.’

  ‘You should try Kit Beeton,’ Cameron said. ‘These late-night hot-tub parties up at Coplowe Farm sound like they’re turning into all-out orgies.’

  ‘How do you know?’

  ‘There was a post about it in that Egglethwaite Residents Facebook group Yolanda runs.’

  Deano shook his head soberly. ‘It’s come to a sad pass if you can’t even run a knocking shop in this village without Yo-yo Sommerville writing it up for the online equivalent of the parish newsletter.’

  ‘Don’t remember you complaining about the write-ups she gave you,’ Marcus said, nudging him.

  ‘Ships that pass in the night, brother o’ mine. Anyway, shut it. If you start reminding Billy about that little dalliance, he might decide to dilute my bitter with extra saliva next time I’m in the Fox.’

  ‘Serves you right for shagging old ladies,’ Cam said.

  Always the last to know, I finally cottoned on to what they were talking about.

  ‘Oh no, Deano,’ I said. ‘Not Yolanda. She was my Brown Owl.’

  He shrugged. ‘We all have needs, even Brown Owls.’ He glanced at Yo-yo. ‘And some of us have more needs than others.’

  ‘No shame, eh?’ Marcus said to me. ‘Looks like it’s up to me to uphold the family name.’

  ‘Listen, lanky, I can uphold the Teasdale name with the best of them,’ Deano said. ‘Ask Yo-yo.’

  Cynthia came back to join us, clutching a burger. ‘All innocent. They’re just gossiping about Kit Beeton’s hot-tub parties.’

  ‘It’s this season’s hot topic.’ Cam gave her a squeeze. ‘You ok, Mum?’

  ‘Yeah. Just being silly.’ She passed the burger to Cam. ‘Here, you can have this.’

  ‘Ooh. Cheers.’

  ‘What have you guys been talking about?’

  ‘Deano’s sex life and Becky’s pantomime,’ Cam mumbled through a mouthful of burger. ‘Oh, and Kit Beeton’s hot-tub parties.’

  Cynthia shook her head. ‘I’ll never get the British pantomime tradition. Still remember the first time I saw one. I thought you must be slipping psychedelic drugs into the tea.’

  ‘It’s not that weird, is it?’ I said.

  ‘You’ve got a woman who’s really a guy, a guy who’s really a girl, an audience of little kids but jokes dirty enough for a working men’s club, and costumes that wouldn’t look out of place in a drag show. All under the banner of wholesome family entertainment.’

  Deano shrugged. ‘Your point?’

  ‘Didn’t you have anything like that in America?’ Marcus asked.

  ‘No. In the States pantomime means, you know…’ She jiggled her palms and bobbed her head from side to side.

  I squinted at her. ‘It means having a seizure?’

  She tutted. ‘Mime, silly girl. That was my best “trapped in a glass box” there.’

  ‘Was it? Bloody hell, Cyn, don’t give up the day job.’

  ‘Right,’ Marcus said. ‘I’d better go. I’m due to do my act for the kiddies.’

  ‘Where’s your costume?’ I asked.

  ‘Haven’t got one.’

  ‘You haven’t even got a costume?’ I shook my head. ‘Worst magician ever.’

  He grinned. ‘You’ll see.’

  Chapter 9

  ‘Is he any good?’ I asked Deano when Marcus had gone.

  ‘He’ll surprise you.’ He nodded to Marcus approaching Pip and friends by the giant Jenga. ‘Go watch.’

  I was curious to see how this magician with no costume, no magician name and a geology degree was planning on entertaining a gang of hard-to-please five- and six-year-olds.

  ‘Come on, bro. We can watch while I queue for a burger, yours is making me hungry.’ I grabbed Cameron’s arm and dragged him to the barbecue.

  I expected Marcus to gather the kids into an audience, but he didn’t. He just wandered over to Pip and nodded.

  ‘All right?’

  The little girl eyed him warily. ‘Hello.’

  He sank down opposite her on the grass.

  ‘It’s your birthday today, right?’

  ‘Yup.’

  ‘How grown-up are you then?’

  ‘You go first.’

  ‘Thirty-three.’

  Pip looked impressed. ‘That’s lots.’

  ‘Thanks. What about you?’

  ‘Six.’

  ‘That’s hardly any.’

  ‘It’s one bigger than yesterday.’

  ‘Well, that is true.’

  He jerked his head towards the boy next to her, who’d been granted the honour of being allowed to look at her potato masher.

  ‘This your friend?’

  ‘Yes. S’Harry.’

  ‘Does he like onion rings?’

  She giggled. ‘Dunno.’

  ‘Do you?’ Marcus asked Harry. The little boy shook his head slowly, staring at Marcus in wide-eyed wonderment.

  ‘Right, great. You won’t mind if I have this one then.’ Marcus pulled a fried onion ring from behind Harry’s ear and popped it in his mouth.

  Pip let out a delighted shriek as Harry blinked and felt behind his ear to see if there were any more battered food products there. Other children were gathering now, alerted to the fact there was something going on.

  ‘He is good, isn’t h
e?’ Cameron whispered as Marcus started showing Pip how to levitate a fiver. ‘That lad Harry’s dead shy. His mum was worried it’d end in tears when I said we were having a magician.’

  ‘Because he’s so relaxed,’ I said, taking a burger from Stew. ‘He doesn’t do it like a show, just lets them come to him.’

  I was chatting to Tom near the bouncy castle when Marcus joined us a while later. Cam had relieved Tom on the barbecue and Cynthia had gone to sort out drinks for Gerry and Sue, who’d just arrived.

  ‘So how’d I do, guys?’ he asked.

  ‘We decided you earned this,’ I said, handing over a glass of prosecco.

  ‘That was ace. Cheers, Marc,’ Tom said. ‘Pip was loving it.’

  ‘Thanks, mate.’ He lifted his eyes to the sky. ‘Because there’re some people round here who in the not-too-distant past have cast doubt on my magical abilities.’

  ‘Well, when a man doesn’t even have a goatee…’ I said, shrugging. ‘That was great though. Interesting act you’ve developed.’

  ‘Yeah, I like to keep it informal. Too much showmanship puts the shy kids off joining in.’

  I felt a tug at my jeans. Pip had sidled up to my leg.

  ‘Hello, little birthday person,’ I said, lifting her up. ‘Come to see us?’

  ‘Yes,’ she whispered, eyes fixed on Marcus.

  ‘Not bored of your party already, Pipsqueak?’ Tom said.

  ‘No, Papa.’

  ‘See, she’s gone all shy now,’ Tom said to Marcus. ‘Too much jelly and magic.’

  ‘Aunty Becky,’ Pip whispered. ‘Ask the man how he made the money fly.’

  ‘Pip says, how did you make the money fly?’ I said to Marcus.

  ‘Just a bit of fairy dust.’

  Pip nodded. ‘That means it’s real magic,’ she told me excitedly. ‘Because he knows that’s the proper way.’

  ‘Ah, I see. It was a test.’ I smiled at Marcus. ‘And you passed, apparently. Well done.’

  ‘Here, kid. You know, you really shouldn’t keep those in your nose. You might sneeze chocolate over everyone.’ He reached out to extract a tube of Smarties from Pip’s nostril and handed them to her.

  She giggled and jumped out of my arms to show her friends what she’d got.

  When she’d disappeared, Marcus shrugged. ‘On the house.’