Babs tut-tutted. ‘Suit yourself, but don’t come crying to me when your arse won’t fit into your jeans.’
‘I think Emma looks fine,’ Claire said quietly.
Babs put a huge slice of cake on her plate. ‘Of course you do. She’s paying your wages.’
‘What’s wages?’ Yuri asked.
‘It’s nothing, sweetheart. Babs is being silly as usual.’ I glared at my sister.
Babs took a bite of her cake. ‘Mmmm. How long have you been in London?’ she asked Claire.
‘About a year.’
‘Why did you leave Ireland?’
Claire’s face went bright red and I jumped in to save her. ‘None of your business.’
Babs patted her mouth with a napkin. ‘Jesus, did she rob a bank?’
I kicked her under the table. ‘Drop it.’
Claire put up her hand. ‘It’s OK, Emma.’ Turning to Babs she said, ‘I left because I was being bullied.’
‘At school?’
‘Yes.’
Babs shrugged. ‘That happens to loads of people. You have to move on. Girls can be bitches.’
‘What’s “bitches” mean?’ Yuri asked.
‘Babs!’ I hissed.
‘Sorry.’ Babs leant down. ‘It’s a mean girl, but it’s a bad word so don’t use it or your mum will kill me.’ She handed him a Smartie from her slice of cake.
‘OK.’ Yuri grinned.
‘Kids, go and wash your hands and then come back for cake,’ I said. They ran out.
‘Was the bullying really that bad? Did you not just complain to the headmistress or a teacher?’ Babs asked.
‘Actually a teacher was mean to me too,’ Claire said, blushing fiercely.
‘Really?’ Babs licked her fork. ‘How?’
‘He was just …’ Claire looked at the floor.
‘Did he come on to you?’ Babs asked.
Claire dug her hands into her pockets. ‘He was always giving me … special attention.’
‘Oh, my God, did he molest you?’ I asked.
‘Not exactly, but he was always putting his arm around me, winking and hugging me and squeezing my shoulders, and telling me I was amazing and special. He used to bring me in chocolate and sweets. I think … I think maybe … he was in love with me,’ she stuttered.
‘OK.’ Babs looked puzzled. ‘How is that mean? I’d have loved a teacher who gave me food.’
‘It’s creepy,’ I said. ‘Not to mention extremely inappropriate. I’d freak if a teacher did that to Lara. There are boundaries, and he was clearly not observing them.’
‘When I asked him why he was giving me so much attention,’ Claire went on, ‘he went mad and said I was a liar and a stupid little girl who was imagining it. Then he went to the headmistress, told her I was mad in the head, and after that he ignored me and acted like I was invisible.’
‘That sounds really strange,’ Babs remarked, frowning.
‘It sounds awful,’ I said, giving Claire a sympathetic look. I felt very sorry for her. Her face was all red and she looked upset at the memory. ‘You poor thing, you’ve had a tough time. I can promise you that no one in this house will bully you. You’re safe with us.’
She smiled. ‘Thanks, Emma. I like it here. You’re a lovely family.’
‘Well, the kids are mad about you and anyone who can get my children to eat vegetables is a legend in my book. Now, why don’t you head home and put your feet up? You’ve earned it, that’s for sure.’
‘I enjoyed today – the kids are great. They’re really happy and enthusiastic.’
‘Well, thank you for looking after them so well, and for the very thoughtful cake.’
‘You’re welcome. See you tomorrow. ’Bye, Babs.’
‘See you,’ Babs said, stuffing another piece of cake into her mouth.
I walked Claire to the door. Yuri and Lara came charging out to say goodbye. Claire turned around and they ran into her arms to hug her. For the hundredth time I thanked the nanny gods that we had found someone who fitted in so well with us.
When we returned to the kitchen, Babs was still eating cake. I prayed that one day my sister’s metabolism would slow down and she’d put on weight, like normal people did.
‘That story was a bit odd,’ Babs said, as soon as I walked in.
‘No talking with your mouth full,’ Lara scolded her.
‘Honey, when you get to my age you can talk with your mouth full, watch TV all night, eat chocolate for breakfast and drink until you fall over.’
‘I want to be your age!’ Lara jumped up and down.
Babs smiled at her, then turned back to me. ‘Why is she so shy and awkward, and why does she wear clothes that are ten sizes too big for her? You should get her on the show. We could do a lot with her.’
‘Lara, sweetie, will you go into the TV room, like a good girl? I just need to talk to Babs for five minutes, OK?’
‘OK.’ She reluctantly left the room to find Yuri.
I waved my fork at Babs threateningly. ‘Claire will not be coming on the show. She will be too busy looking after my children. She’s shy because she was bullied, which is why she left Ireland and moved here.’
‘She wasn’t really bullied,’ Babs said. ‘A teacher hugging you and giving you sweets isn’t bullying. It’s a bit odd, yeah, but he probably just felt sorry for her. There’s no way he fancied her – the state of her! Bullying is when you get your head flushed down the toilet every day. I’m sick of everyone banging on about being bullied. I bet you half of them make it up.’
I was incredulous. ‘What?’
‘Seriously, every celebrity interview I read is full of “Poor me, I was bullied in school,” or else they’re bi-polar. Don’t you think it’s a bit strange that almost everyone in TV and movies was either bullied or is bi-polar? Half of them are lying just to get column inches. It’s pathetic. I did an interview last month and the reporter kept asking about my childhood – did anything terrible happen, was I abused, bullied, molested, flashed at? Pathetic. Then she asked me about my mental health – am I putting on a front, do I suffer from anxiety or depression or eating disorders or mood swings? Eventually I told her that I eat like a horse and the only flashing I’d experienced was me flashing my boobs at a car full of priests when I was sixteen. She kept saying, “But we’re looking for misery stories.”’
‘Really? She actually said that?’
‘Yes! The magazines only want stories about people who had their arm ripped off by a lion or found out their father is a transsexual.’
‘I don’t want to read that kind of stuff,’ I noted.
‘That’s what I said. Who the hell wants to read about miserable ugly people with missing limbs? I hate misery, I hate moaning and I hate bullshit stories about bullying. People called me Horse or Hook Nose all the way through school. It just made me more determined to get my nose job, which, let’s face it, turned me from an eight point five out of ten to a perfect ten. I’d call that incentivizing someone, not bullying.’
I laughed. ‘You happen to have been born with elephant skin, while most people are a little more sensitive.’
Babs popped the last bit of cake into her mouth. ‘Bullshit. Most people are just looking for a reason to blame others for their misery, their lack of success and their shitty relationships. I am so sick of the women coming on our show crying about their husbands leaving them or not paying them any attention. If you want a man to pay you attention, lose weight, buy sexy underwear and ride him senseless. He won’t be looking over the hedge after that.’
I made a mental note to get out my good undies and have regular sex with James. I didn’t want him looking over any hedges. I felt bad to be treating it like another item on my To Do list, but maybe that was what life with kids was like for everyone: Tuesday, grocery shop; Wednesday, sex; Thursday, bins …
Lara came into the kitchen, crying. ‘Mummy, Yuri won’t let me play with his Lego. He says I’m not allowed cos I’m a girl.’
&nb
sp; Babs stood up. ‘Let me deal with this.’ She marched Lara back into the lounge. ‘Hey, Stumpy, let your sister play with that Lego. Get it into your thick head that girls rock, OK? We are smarter, funnier, hotter and can wipe the floor with men.’
‘She’s really bad at Lego,’ Yuri protested.
‘Listen, Half-pint, when you’re fifteen, spotty, short and desperate for action, you’ll be glad you were nice to Lara because you can snog all her friends. They’ll be two years younger and gagging to get some experience. Mark my words, it’s worth investing in Lara now. Be nice to her.’
‘What’s “snog”?’ Yuri asked.
‘When a boy and girl kiss with tongues,’ Babs said, sticking her tongue out.
‘Charming!’ James walked in with his backpack over his shoulder.
‘Grooooss.’ Yuri scrunched up his face.
‘Yeah, right! Come back to me in ten years’ time,’ Babs told him.
‘I like boys,’ Lara said.
James kissed her head. ‘Well, let’s hope you haven’t inherited your aunt Barbara’s penchant for men.’
Babs punched him on the arm. ‘I can’t help it if men find me irresistible.’
James laughed. ‘Irresistible or certifiable?’
Babs put her hands on her hips. ‘Is that what you wear to work?’
‘Yes. What’s wrong with it?’
‘It’s a saggy tracksuit! Have you no self-respect? You should try dressing like José Mourinho. Now he is hot!’
‘I often train with the team – I’m very hands-on. I don’t spend my day sitting behind a big desk strategizing.’
Babs grinned, taking great pleasure from winding James up. ‘Well, maybe you should. Tracksuits are not a good look on any guy, but especially not on old men.’
‘He’s not old,’ I defended my husband.
‘Thank you, darling.’
‘He’s middle-aged,’ Babs said.
‘No, he isn’t. Middle-aged is, like, fifty.’
‘Duh! People don’t live to a hundred, Emma. You are both middle-aged.’
I looked at James. ‘Oh, my God, are we?’
He shrugged. ‘I suppose we are.’
I put my arm around him. ‘Well, I like you and your middle-aged, tracksuit-wearing body.’
‘Thank you.’ James kissed me.
‘Yucky kissing!’ Yuri shouted.
Babs rolled her eyes. ‘I agree. Pass me the puke-bucket.’
‘Well, I hope you’re not feeling too nauseous to eat, because dinner is ready,’ I said, smiling at James.
We moved into the kitchen, leaving the children playing in the lounge.
‘Smells good,’ James said, going over to the sink to wash his hands.
‘Marks & Spencer’s finest,’ I admitted.
We sat down and helped ourselves. Even though she’d had three slices of cake, Babs heaped her plate.
‘So, how was work?’ James asked me.
‘Good. It went really well.’
‘She wasn’t bad,’ Babs drawled. ‘She made two awful-looking trolls halfway respectable.’
‘I assume you’re referring to two women?’ James uncorked the wine.
I grinned. ‘Two very sweet ladies from Devon.’
James filled our glasses. ‘Poor things, coming all the way up from Devon to be abused by Babs.’
Babs rapped his knuckles with her fork. ‘Meeting me was the best thing that’s ever happened to them, I’ll have you know. I transformed them. The single one might actually meet someone now.’
‘Speaking of men, Babs, anyone on the scene?’ James asked. ‘Any poor unsuspecting London boy being used and abused?’
I bristled while Babs scooped a large piece of the chicken and leek pie onto her fork. ‘There might be.’ She raised an eyebrow. I stood up to get a glass of water to stop myself shouting at her.
As Babs shovelled another forkful of pie into her mouth, she said, ‘By the way, I met Mary Poppins.’
James looked puzzled.
‘You know, mousy Claire.’
‘Oh, right. Yes, she is rather quiet, isn’t she? I thought we should interview a few more candidates, but you know Emma. She decided she wanted Claire and that was that.’ Seeing my face darken, James quickly added, ‘But I think she was right. Claire is good with the children.’
Babs shook her head. ‘She told us this really weird story about her teacher fancying her and then denying it. It sounded like she was making a big deal about nothing. She seems very young for nineteen, doesn’t she?’
I nearly choked on my water. ‘Do you have any idea how immature you were at nineteen, Babs? Claire is like a mature woman compared to you.’
‘I was born mature,’ Babs said, as James and I laughed. She put down her fork. ‘Just because she made you a cake doesn’t mean she’s not a bit odd.’
‘She’s just quiet and lacks confidence,’ I said firmly, tired now of talking about Claire. ‘Being bullied is terrible. I, for one, am going to be especially nice to her to build up her self-esteem. She deserves to be happy.’
Babs finished her plate of food, wrapped a large slice of my cake in a napkin and stood up. ‘Much as I’d love to stay and discuss childcare with you, I have to hit the road.’
‘Thanks for eating all of my cake,’ I said.
‘Better me than you, Fatso!’ On that note, Babs picked up her bag and sashayed out of the room.
I followed her out to the hallway. ‘Babs, I’m serious about Gary. You have to stop seeing him. You’re going to get a reputation and it could affect your career.’
‘Back off,’ Babs snapped.
‘I’m worried about you.’
Babs turned her back to me. ‘Drop it.’
‘Where are you going? Are you going to meet him now? Don’t, Babs. You must know that he’ll never leave his wife. They never do.’
She spun around, looking furious. ‘Gary’s different, OK? For once in your stupid life just shut the hell up and leave me alone.’ She stormed down the path and hailed a cab.
I stared after her, mouth open. I knew I was being a bit preachy, but I’d never seen Babs so angry and upset. Did she actually love the guy? I couldn’t bear the thought of it because I knew in my heart he had no intention of leaving his wife for her. She was his bit of fun, sex with no strings attached.
I went back into the kitchen. ‘What was that all about?’ James asked. ‘I heard Babs shouting at you.’
‘I was warning her to stay away from Gary, the producer on the show. She’s sleeping with him.’
James groaned. ‘I take it from your tone that he’s married.’
‘Oh, yes, with two children.’
‘She sounded really angry with you.’
I sat down in a chair. ‘She is. I’ve never seen her so furious. She’s bolshie almost all the time, but she rarely shouts and roars. She was shaking with rage. I think she’s fallen really hard for him – she could even be in love with him, which is a first for Babs.’
‘Well, darling, she’s an adult. You can’t stop her making bad choices. You have to stop trying to change her. Babs is who she is. She’s always going to blaze her own trail. You’ve been giving her advice for years and she never listens. The only person Babs ever listens to is herself. Perhaps it’s time to back off a bit.’
A message flashed up on my phone. I read it, then fell back against the chair, stunned. James rushed to my side. ‘Emma? Emma, are you all right? What is it?’
With trembling hands I held my phone up for him to see. The message was from Babs: Sry 4 shouting. Must b hormones. Am pregnant.
10
I was in bed, not even managing to concentrate on Grazia, when my phone beeped. I grabbed it, hoping it was Babs replying to me. I had rung her ten times and sent ten messages, but she was ignoring me. It wasn’t my sister, it was Lucy, asking if I was still awake and if I was up for a chat.
I was glad of the distraction. It would be nice to catch up with her and I was dying to see how things
were between her and Donal. I was really worried about them. I was also worried about Lucy’s relationship with Serge. Being away from him so much would surely affect him. They had stressed in our adoption course that you must spend time with a child to bond with them.
The other thing about children is that you need to fall in love with them. The more time you spend with them, the more you love them – even though they can drive you crazy. But if you’re away from them all the time, you become detached. It’s human nature. I knew Lucy loved Serge, but I was worried she’d regret all this time spent in the office. Kids grow up so quickly and you never get back what you miss.
I dialled her number. When she answered, she sounded tired. ‘Hi. Thanks for calling back. I’m not disturbing you, am I?’
‘Not at all. I’ve been dying to talk to you. How did your first day go?’ I asked.
‘Good, thanks. The office is really nice, and Paul and Alan are great. We’ve got really ambitious plans. I’m excited.’
‘Great. And, uhm, how are things at home?’
She sighed. ‘Oh, God, Emma, this morning was bad, but tonight was worse.’
‘Really? That doesn’t sound good.’
‘It was a disaster. I didn’t sleep a wink last night. I was nervous and excited about today. I had to get up at four a.m. anyway to catch my flight, so I knew I’d get no sleep, to be honest. Before I left I went into Donal’s room.’
‘What do you mean “Donal’s room”?’
‘He’s been sleeping in the spare room since I took the job,’ she admitted, sounding a bit embarrassed.
‘Oh, Lucy.’ This was not a good sign.
‘He hates me at the moment, but I still didn’t want to leave without saying goodbye. He was awake, so I just told him I loved him and that I didn’t want to fight any more.’
‘Good on you. What did he say to that?’
Lucy sighed. ‘He said he’d never like this set-up, but that he did want to stop fighting because the atmosphere in the house was bad for Serge.’
‘Well, he has a point. Our kids hate it when we argue. It does upset them.’
‘I know, I know.’ Lucy sounded frustrated now. ‘Anyway, I suggested the two of us going out for a nice dinner this weekend, but Donal is working Friday and Saturday until late, so …’
Mad About You Page 11
