‘Some of them didn’t know’ Kate said matter of factly.
‘No, Miss Taylor told me that.’
‘Alan Mathews said you got babies at the hospital, and Georgina said they were a gift from God’ Kate sneered.
‘I see. The thing is . . .’
‘And Reanna said an angel had put her in her mummy’s tummy to grow.’
‘Did she? The thing is Kate . . .’
‘So I told them what really happens and how it’s the daddy that . . .’
‘Yes Kate but you shouldn’t have done that’ I said a little too assertively.
‘But you told me it’s the daddy who . . .’
‘I know I did but you see . . .’
‘You mean it isn’t the daddy?’ Kate said wide eyed.
‘Yes it is.’
‘You mean the baby doesn’t grow in the mummy’s tummy, but you said, and you got all fat when Ben was being born?’
‘No . . . I mean yes it is the daddy and yes the baby does grow in the mummy’s tummy exactly as I explained it to you, but you shouldn’t have told the other children’ I said relieved to have finally said it.
‘Why not? They’d got it all wrong so I . . .’
‘Yes Kate but this is something that your friends, well all children, need to talk about with their own mummies and daddies.’
‘But what if their mummies and daddies haven’t told them?’ Kate said.
‘Even if they haven’t they will do one day so you shouldn’t say anything just in case they haven’t got round to it yet, that’s the problem really you never know who’s had it explained to them and who hasn’t.’
‘Oh . . . and you’re only allowed to talk about it with your own mummy or daddy?’
‘Yes, at least until you get a bit older anyway.’
‘Even if they’ve got it wrong?’
‘Even if they’ve got it wrong’ I confirmed.
‘Was Miss Taylor angry with me then because I talked about it?’
‘No she wasn’t angry she just thought I should explain to you that some children don’t know yet and she was worried that you might upset them.’
‘Okay mummy I won’t talk about it to anyone else’ Kate said affably.
Martin only stayed long enough to confirm that I’d spoken to Kate and that she understood she couldn’t give anymore sex education lessons to her peers, and then he’d gone back to Lenny’s.
I made a mental note to myself that before Ben started school I’d need to make sure he knew not to elucidate on the finer details of creation to his schoolmates; not that we’d had any in depth discussions about it yet but he knew the barest of basic principles at least. Or maybe I’d need to have that talk sooner rather than later in case he decided to top his sister and enlighten his three year old nursery-mates, how embarrassing would that be?
21
Saturday came and went again, only this time following Kate’s sex ed debacle things between Martin and myself weren’t quite so hostile; well on the face of it they weren’t quite so hostile. I mean it’s not as if we’d made it up or were even friends but it was impossible to continue to be so bitterly opposed after our shared concern over Kate, so instead we played the politeness game.
On Tuesday it was the school end of year concert and Kate was quite excited to be a crab with two of her friends in the ‘under the sea’ finale to the show. When she first told me she was going to be a crab she’d been disappointed not to have been chosen as one of the mermaids and after sulking a bit said she wouldn’t be in it at all. ‘A crab’ she’d said disgustedly ‘I don’t want to be a crab’. Of course Ben picking up straight away on his sisters disappointment and disgust at her crab status taunted her with it all evening and the next morning by calling her Crabby at any and every opportunity. But the next day Miss Taylor had explained to Kate that only the year sixes could be mermaids and that being one of the three crabs was a very important part in the show, and since then Kate had been fine about it.
The concert wasn’t due to start until seven but Kate had to be at school by half six so we had all walked down to the school gates at twenty past six. Kate had gone inside and Ben and I were sitting on the low wall outside waiting once more for Martin. If he was late again I really would kill him this time but luckily for the pair of us Martin showed up so I didn’t have to commit any murders. We went inside and according to Kate’s instruction found seats on the fire door side of the hall where Kate had said we’d get the best view of her and her two crab friends.
Despite being almost half an hour early the hall was already packed and I looked round at all the other parents and the few grandparents. I’d worn my neat and tidy work outfit, but after seeing what some of the other mothers were wearing I could have worn practically anything and still fitted in as between them there was an odd mixture of styles ranging from Barbie wannabe’s to matronly has-beens from another era, from being presented at court for a knighthood to a downright scruffy just got out of bed and thrown anything on look. I was quite glad I’d gone for a simple ‘hey look at me being normal’ style.
I spotted Reanna’s parents and pointed them out to Martin. The mother was one of the Barbie wannabe’s and had evidently decided that tonight she’d be ‘army Barbie’ wearing a tight fitting camouflage get-up of combats and matching waistcoat jacket thingy over a dangerously low-cut vest top. Her over-straightened long bleach blonde hair shimmered against her fake orange tan and all her gold jewellery as she moved, and she was wearing so much makeup her face had a masklike quality to it. The father was a musclebound he-man type also wearing army combats, presumably to compliment Barbie, with a skimpy tee-shirt that showed off his densely tattooed arms. Don’t get me wrong if that’s your thing then fine but was it really suitable for a school concert I asked myself, and evidently everyone else had asked themselves the same question as the pair of them were both being studiously ignored and avoided by all and sundry. Or maybe it was Reanna’s behaviour towards the other children that had got everyone’s backs up and that meant her parents were persona non grata.
I waved to a few of the other mums I recognised and they waved back and we all waited while fidgeting restlessly for the large clock on the wall to slowly edge towards seven. Ben was getting impatient and struggling with having to sit still for so long as were some of the other younger brothers and sisters in the audience judging by the constant reprimands from their parents, but finally the head teacher Mr Wittingthorpe walked across the raised dais to centre stage and asked for quiet.
Mr Wittingthorpe it turns out could win gold medals for boring everyone to death. His little welcoming speech started out pretty much as you might expect at this sort of event, welcoming everyone and thanking us all for showing our support for the school, then thanking the teachers for giving up their spare time to rehearse the children, then thanking the children for taking part, then thanking a few select mothers on the school committee for helping out with costumes, and so the list went on. Why he couldn’t have just said thank you everyone and left it at that I don’t know it certainly would have been simpler, but then I suppose he’d have only got a bronze in the ‘boring’ marathon instead of the gold.
Then just when we thought we were safe and he was coming to a close, he launched into a monologue about the history of the school and how much it had changed over the last few millennia and in particular since he’d taken over as head teacher. Talk about blowing your own trumpet, I think this guy was nominating himself for the next Nobel peace prize or whatever the equivalent is for pompous non-entities boring everyone senseless. It was nearly half seven before he ran out of steam and when everyone clapped hard he beamed at how wonderful he was little realising that actually we were all clapping in celebration of the fact that he’d finally shut up.
The next hour was a heart wrenching torture of small children reciting poetry, or four of them singing a round and forgetting when to start, or acting out a little vignette of various nursery rhymes to a twee ancient rec
ording of same. A group from year four played their recorders, and a different group from year five tried to play xylophones although I’m still trying to work out exactly what tune it was they were aiming for. At the end of each recital it was easy to work out who the parents were of each of the performers as they always clapped the loudest; that’s if you hadn’t already worked it out from the little waves they gave each other or in one boys case a loud ‘hello mum’. I smiled and was near to tears with a lump in my throat for most of it, they were all so small and trying so hard it was impossible not to be moved.
Eventually it was time for the ‘under the sea’ finale that included virtually the entire rest of the school that hadn’t already been on stage. There was a lot of organising of the stage set and props in preparation, and quite a lot of off-stage directions that as the audience we weren’t supposed to hear but it all added somehow to the first school amateur dramatics ambiance.
Slowly but surely the stage filled with small solemn children of various ages and sizes wearing cardboard costumes and masks depicting a variety of fish, an octopus, a few lobsters, several mermaids and mermen, and of course three crabs of which Kate was one. Some of them had to be helped on to the stage particularly in the case of the mermaids as their costumes were so unwieldy and awkward, but in the case of the youngest pupils who were dressed mostly as the seaweed chorus they needed no help and ran with barely contained excitement and nerves to their designated position. Lastly James the eldest son of my neighbour Cheryl who’d helped me out on the day of the declined bank card, tall for his age and dressed as Neptune carrying a trident that looked suspiciously like a gold painted garden fork, strode majestically to a makeshift throne in the centre of the stage.
Ben, who up until this point had been bored senseless for the last hour and a half since I’d threatened him with annihilation unless he sat still, had been nodding off in the heat of the crowded hall. Now suddenly he woke up and recognising James started calling his name and waving to him, to which everyone except James smiled. Then he spotted his sister at the side of the stage and started shouting ‘Crabby’ and then more loudly ‘that’s my sister’. Even from where we were sitting I could see Kate tensing and she gave Ben a little wave in the hopes this would shut him up. I told him he had to sit still as Kate and the others were going to sing but unfortunately this had the opposite effect to the one I was aiming for and Ben took this as his cue to try and join his sister on stage.
He ran to the front still shouting Kate’s name and hung over the edge of the stage unable to get any further. By this time one of the offstage teachers had started the old fashioned tape recorder and the familiar strains of the intro to Little Mermaids ‘under the sea’ song was beginning. Kate stage whispered to her brother who was only a few feet away now, albeit at a different level to herself to go and sit down. Martin walked to the front and tried to grab him but Ben saw his father coming and at the same time spotted the wooden box off to the side that was serving as a step up to the platform and made his break for it.
The music played on but only a handful of the performers were singing as everyone’s attention was drawn to the small boy causing such a ruckus. Martin followed him to the improvised step but Ben was too quick for him and now finally on stage made a beeline for his sister. ‘Kate’ he shouted excitedly and the audience laughed all except me, and the performers laughed all except Kate who looked mortified. Ben grinned from ear to ear as he stood next to his sister knowing he was safe from his father’s clutches who was too embarrassed to climb on stage himself.
The music stopped as most of the children had missed their cue and the few that were singing had slowed down and were seriously out of time with the music and each other. Miss Taylor who’d been standing at the side now climbed up on stage and tried to coerce Ben back to his seat, but Ben refused to listen and clung fiercely to his sister Kate. Then Mr Wittingthorpe decided to intervene and smiling at Ben strode back on stage to take up his central position again.
‘It seems we have a new pupil eager to join us’ he said and everyone laughed, all except for the members of our family. ‘I think under the circumstances if you could all bear with us for a moment we should perhaps start again including our newest and youngest artiste.’ Everyone laughed again and Mr Wittingthorpe had a quick word with Miss Taylor and then Kate, and Ben even though he didn’t attend school yet was allowed to stay where he was on stage.
Kate continued to look mortally embarrassed and side eyed Ben standing at her side with a look that could kill at ten paces, and Martin walked back to his seat next to mine smiling awkwardly but affably at everyone. After a slight pause the music started again and this time the underwater cast began singing on cue.
I have to say it was an enchanting performance, only very slightly off key and with only one hiccup when the octopus lost one of his arms and pushed the lobster out of the way to retrieve it again. Kate and her crab friends sung their part well and without mistake, and Ben who’d watched the film a few times loudly joined in with the more familiar bits.
As the song finished the audience clapped and some stood up and cheered, and my little child-star Ben solemnly took a bow with the rest of the performers that spurred the audience to clap even louder.
Mr Wittingthorpe came back on stage and thanked everyone again and wished us all goodnight and a happy summer holiday. The children started moving off the stage under the direction of one of the teachers but now that the performance was over all solemnness had disappeared and they chit-chatted excitedly between themselves. Martin ran up to the stage and grabbed Ben before he could disappear and with Martin still carrying him the three of us went outside to wait for Kate.
What I wanted to do was give Ben the telling off of a life time but that was impossible as so many of the other parents waiting outside for their own offspring congratulated Ben on his performance and laughed and smiled at us saying things like ‘what a little star’, or ‘we can see who’s got the talent in your family’, or ‘he was so cute he stole the whole show’. Martin and I smiled indulgently and Ben beamed away at everyone accepting all the accolades like a true pro.
22
Kate had been angry with her brother for a couple of days and made a point of ignoring him but Ben managed to win her over in the end, and as long as no-one talked about the concert or mentioned mermaids or crabs their brother and sister relationship resumed its more normal bickering and sometimes loving course.
Martin had come home with us after the concert for a cup of tea and once the children were safely tucked up in bed we laughed at Ben’s antics and dreaded how much worse he might be as he got older. It was almost like old times, almost but not quite. Martin was still Martin and I still couldn’t get over the fact that he’d chosen bloody Lenny and Spain over me and the kids. He’d tried once or twice to make it up and had hinted that he wanted to move back, but every time the subject of Spain came up all my hurt and anger resurfaced and all Martins defensive hostility returned so the whole situation was at a stalemate.
The school holidays started and Kate was spending the first week of it at my mum and dads who of course, and especially in light of the situation between Martin and myself and what my dad referred to as a broken home, spoiled Kate rotten. After two days of Kate comparing what she thought of as my strict regime to her granny’s tender ministrations and my mum letting her do pretty much whatever she wanted, I had to have a little talk with Mum and Dad and ask them to please stop spoiling her so much. It was one thing to spoil the kids for a few hours on a normal grandparent visit I said, but while they were looking after Kate every day for six or more hours at a time it wasn’t doing her any good and was making my life impossible, not to mention making Ben feel totally left out because he wasn’t being spoiled.
Mum said she understood and to make Ben feel better I didn’t send him to nursery for three days and instead let him go with Kate to their Nanny and Grand-dad Mallons. After that things improved a little. Mum and Dad still sp
oiled the pair of them with little treats but they weren’t quite the full on doting grandparents they had been before our little talk.
Of course Mum and Dad had asked me about the situation between Martin and myself and what I was going to do, and without going into too much detail I’d explained a bit about what had happened. But as to what I was going to do now I had no answer to that, I didn’t know what I was going to do and had asked myself the same question several times a day since Martin had got back from Spain and moved into Lenny’s.
At work things were much the same, same customers, same old Greg turfing us out of the back room, Di still going on about how wonderful her Rich was and being all dreamy and vague, same old everything except for me. I wasn’t the same I was a single mum; tired, grumpy, disillusioned, and a bit scared.
The dream life single mum was hard working and super-efficient, she budgeted everything and although not well off she managed without getting into debt. The home she created for her children while not being exactly a palace was clean and tidy yet cosy. It had that comfy homely feel and was full of arty projects where for next to nothing except her own time and effort she’d turn a worthless piece of junk into the most wonderful retro something or other. The dream life single mum was cheerful and pleasant to everyone; she was slim and attractive with seemingly no effort. The children were happy and energetic but well behaved, and they doted on their mum. They’d invite their friend’s home for tea all the time and the friends would like spending time in the homely laid back happy atmosphere. From time to time she’d daydream about meeting the perfect man who’d think the world of her and try to look after her, but the truth was she was too busy to be involved with anyone and wasn’t really that bothered anyway because she was happy and fulfilled in the life she already had.
How I envied that dream life single mum, but whoever she was she most certainly wasn’t me and the only thing I had in common with her was the hard working bit.
The Dream Life I Never Had Page 13
