by Gil McNeil
Oh, God, I hope she’s not going to start on about crystals or energy fields.
She smiles. ‘Nothing anyone does can really hurt you, unless you let it.’
‘Right. Nothing at all?’
‘No.’
I wonder if she’ll still feel that way after she’s had the baby. I’m guessing she might find a whole new chasm of vulnerability has opened up over night, and there’s no way she’ll be able to karma her way out of it, however hard she tries. But I don’t think I’ll mention it, because apart from anything else I don’t like annoying people, whatever Archie might think.
‘I still think it probably helps if you look as good as you do.’
She smiles again. ‘Do you think you’d be divorced now, if, you know, if he’d still been around?’
‘Yes, I think so.’
‘And he’d have wanted access?’
‘I suppose so. God, I’d have hated that.’
‘Thank God Jimmy’s not playing that game.’
‘Won’t he be involved at all, then?’
As soon as I’ve said this, I realise I’ve crossed the invisible line.
‘We’ll see.’
We watch the boys, who are still playing with the hoops, although they’re slowing down now, and one of Archie’s armbands is deflating, so he’s gone rather lopsided.
‘Are you hungry?’
‘No, we ate before we came.’
‘Well, I’m starving.’ She picks up the phone and tells Sam she’s hungry.
‘Are you sure you don’t want anything?’
I think this might be our cue to leave.
‘No, really, I should be getting them home. But thank you, Grace, they’ve had a lovely time.’
Archie’s very tired and grumpy, like he always is after swimming, but at least this time we’re not shivering in a chilly Formica cubicle while we get dressed, and he falls asleep in the car, much to Jack’s amusement.
‘I like it when he’s asleep.’
‘Do you, love?’
‘Yes. It’s nice and quiet. Can we have stories when we get home?’
‘Yes, if you get into bed quickly.’
I manage to get Archie upstairs and into bed without any major dramas, and Jack’s half asleep by the time I finish the first story. I’m back downstairs, sitting in front of the fire and trying not to fall asleep until I’ve finished writing my shopping list for the party, when Ellen rings.
‘So has this Reg person got any young friends, then?’
‘What, a former captain of the bowls club?’
‘No, a nice handsome stranger who doesn’t want to take you home to meet his mother.’
‘There’s not much chance of that around here: I’d probably already know his mother, if he was a local, and they don’t stay strangers for long. Before you know it, they’re moaning about the way you cook bacon.’
‘You’ll miss out on an awful lot of fun if you go on thinking like that.’
‘Maybe. But it makes my mornings much more relaxing.’
She laughs.
‘You must miss the sex, though.’
‘Ellen!’
‘Oh, please. You must.’
‘Well, I don’t, not really. It just became part of the routine after a while; nice but nothing earth-shattering. There was one time, ages ago, when he came home in the middle of the night, and I was half asleep and I thought he was a burglar. But apart from that, no, not really.’
‘You thought you were shagging a burglar and you didn’t wake up?’
‘You know what I mean. It was unexpected, like when we first starting seeing each other. But most of the time it was just sort of ordinary; comforting but ordinary, like the decaff version of the real thing.’
‘With blinding headaches if you have the real thing by mistake. Bloody hell, so I’ve got years of crap sex to look forward to.’
‘Not crap, just not amazing. You get used to someone, you’re bound to. And anyway, I don’t think I’m a terribly good example. I mean, he was sleeping with someone else, which can’t be a very good sign. So maybe it was just me. I think he must have been quite lonely you know. I know I was.’
‘What’s brought all this on?’
‘Something Grace was saying, about how you’re only a victim if you want to be.’
‘Right. And she’d know, I suppose, looking like she does. It’s easy not being a victim if you’ve got all the power and all the money.’
‘I suppose so.’
‘I bloody know so, so you might as well just get out there and have some fun. Let’s go shopping when you’re up with your gran. That always works for me.’
‘Maybe.’
‘So that’s a no, then?’
‘I could do with some new boots.’
‘Hallelujah! Right, I’ll be your stylist for the day. This is going to be so great.’
By the time she’s finished listing all the things I should be buying, I’m having a mini panic attack.
‘Don’t forget we’re meant to be shopping for Gran. And I want to get a present for Connie and Mark, for making Jack’s cake.’
‘We can go to Liberty’s – you’re bound to find something there.’
‘I was thinking more M&S.’
‘Well bloody stop it.’
It’s Saturday afternoon and it’s Party Day, much to everyone’s relief, because I don’t think Jack could take much more party anticipation. He’s already been in tears twice this morning, and Archie’s not really helping since he’s insisting on wearing his Spiderman outfit.
‘Yes, but it’s not a dressing-up party, tell him, Mum.’
‘It doesn’t matter, Jack.’
‘Well I don’t want him to come, then.’
‘Jack. Calm down.’
He gives me a furious look and bounces off upstairs, while I carry on putting out Halloween paper plates; I’ve already hung up streamers and balloons, and solved my incendiary issues with the pumpkins by getting some small battery-operated candles from one of my catalogues. I’ve used them in the pumpkins inside the shop window, too, and they look great in the afternoon when it starts to get dark. We’ve moved all the furniture in the living room so there’s more space, and anything breakable is upstairs, so I think we’re all set: at least living in such a shabby house means it doesn’t matter if anyone spills anything.
Mr Pallfrey’s outside, putting the final touches to the bonfire, with Trevor running round in circles with pieces of stick, and Gran’s in the kitchen, making sausage rolls.
‘I’ve done some cheese straws, too, they’re in the oven.’
‘Thanks, Gran.’
‘Shall I go and give the boys a quick wash and brush-up, then?’
‘Great. I’ll be up in a minute.’
I’m feeling unusually co-ordinated today: I’m wearing my new boots, with my new dark-green corduroy skirt and a green tweedy cardigan that I knitted last year. The shopping trip with Gran and Ellen was just as traumatic as I knew it was going to be, with Ellen doing her homage to Trinny & Susannah, although thankfully without insisting on seeing anyone in their pants. But I did end up with this skirt, and a brown velvet one, and two new vest tops, and Gran’s now fully equipped for Dining Aboard, although she still wants to get a new suitcase, so it was definitely worth it. Betty got herself a new coat, and Ellen found a pair of beautiful suede platform shoes that she completely fell in love with, so she got them in three different colours, which gave us all a vicarious thrill. The highlight was definitely tea at the Ritz, which I’d booked as a last-minute surprise for Gran, who almost burst into tears she was so pleased; and even though it cost an absolute fortune, it was a real treat, and not just for the moment when the cakes arrived. Betty spent so long in the ladies we thought we’d never get her out, and Ellen had to autograph two women’s menus, and then they took pictures of us with their mobile phones, which Gran loved.
She’s been busy with her comb when I go upstairs, and the boys have their hair slicked back with
matching centre-partings.
‘Are you sure you want to wear your Spiderman outfit, Archie?’
‘Yes, and Gran said I could, so you can’t make me change it.’
She laughs. ‘It was either that or have him in his vest and pants.’
Jack giggles.
‘All right, if you’re really sure, but nobody else will be dressing up. You know that, don’t you?’
‘Well I can be the winner, then. And I can help bring in the cake, can’t I, Mum?’
‘Yes, if you’re sensible.’
Jack doesn’t look convinced.
‘But don’t let him hold it, Mum, or he might drop it on purpose.’
Archie looks shocked. ‘No, I wouldn’t. I’d never do that.’
Gran gives him a kiss. ‘Of course you wouldn’t, pet.’
Actually, he would, but never mind.
The doorbell rings, and Jack freezes. ‘They’re here, they’re here.’
It’s Sophie Lewis, with her mum, and she’s brought Molly Taylor with her, and they’re both wearing party frocks and clutching presents.
Sophie’s mum smiles.
‘They’ve got their coats, for the bonfire later. And I’ll pick them up at seven, is that right?’
‘Yes.’
‘Gosh, you are brave, having them all here.’
She beats a hasty retreat, as Jane Johnson arrives with a gaggle of small boys.
‘Tom’s dad will pick them up. Do you need a hand or anything?’
I’ve always thought Jane was particularly nice, and now she’s just confirmed it. Offering to help at someone else’s children’s party is definitely gold star behaviour, unless you’re on very strong medication.
‘I think it’s all under control. For now.’
She laughs.
‘Have a large gin. It’ll help no end.’
Bloody hell. The noise is incredible. We’re playing Blind Vampire’s Buff, and we’ve already done Pinning the Tail on the Monster, and Pass the Pumpkin Parcel, and two rounds of musical chairs, and Archie and Nelly are now ‘helping’ Gran in the kitchen, which is very brave of her, while Tina takes Travis upstairs because one of his front teeth has just come out, with copious amounts of blood, which he’s loving. Connie’s outside with Mr Pallfrey, hanging up outdoor fairy lights; she’s put The Cake in the kitchen and it’s totally fabulous. There are candles inside it, in a hollowed-out section at the top, and it’s got windows so we’ll be able to see them flickering before I take the lid off for the birthday boy to blow them out. It’s the cleverest thing I’ve ever seen, and Connie says the orange icing is delicious, and Nelly’s already ordered one for her birthday, only in pink, so Mark’s thinking strawberries. Or possibly a giant peach.
Tina comes back down with Travis, and we start playing Musical Statues, which goes down rather well until Nelly wobbles onto Marco and makes him move, and he refuses to be out because it wasn’t his fault, and they both go into torrents of Italian, which is clearly their language of choice for Bickers. Everyone’s terribly impressed, particularly Archie, who seems very taken with all the hand gestures and starts doing some arm waving of his own, and it takes another round of Pass the Parcel to restore the peace, so now I’ve only got one more parcel left; and I’ve learned from bitter experience that you can never have enough Mystery Parcels when it comes to birthday parties so it’s all rather nerve-racking, and I’m sure we’ve got more children than we started with.
Gran announces the food’s ready, so they swarm into the dining room and everything turns into a blur of pouring out beakers of apple juice and trying to stop Archie and Nelly having a sword fight with the cocktail sticks from their sausages. There’s a lull of about three minutes when I drink a hasty cup of tea and Connie takes over the juice patrol and then it’s time to do The Cake.
‘Shall I turn the lights off, dear?’
‘Yes, Gran. Just give me a minute to light the candles.’
I carry The Cake in on its silver cakeboard, staggering slightly because it weighs a ton, with Archie holding a tea towel and walking ahead of me so he feels like he’s got a proper job, and we all sing ‘Happy Birthday’ and everyone claps.
Jack goes very pink and wide-eyed as he stands up to blow the candles out.
‘Make a wish, sweetheart.’
‘I already have.’
He looks at me. I really hope he’s not going to say something about Daddy, because if he does I think I might burst into tears. Gran’s standing behind him, looking pretty close to tears herself.
He smiles and I give him a hug.
‘Shall I tell you what my wish was?’
‘You’re meant to keep it a secret, but you can tell me if you really want to.’
Please let it not be anything about Nick. Please.
‘I wished for a dog of our very own, like Trevor. Only a puppy.’
‘Oh, right.’
Gran smiles. ‘Shall we cut your cake up then, pet, and give everybody a piece?’
‘Yes please. And I can have a really big bit, can’t I, because I’m the birthday boy?’
‘Yes, lovey, you can.’
I’m in the kitchen with Connie eating a large slice of cake, which is even more delicious than I thought it would be, when more people start arriving with presents; Elsie and Jeffrey and Martin, and Maggie, and Linda and her teenage daughter Lauren, who’s wearing the shortest mini-skirt I’ve ever seen, with sheepskin boots, and Angela Prentice, which is rather surprising because I didn’t think she’d come, with a little present done up in train wrapping paper, and Betty and Mrs Davis, who both disappear into the kitchen and keep threatening to start on the washing up while Gran makes them a cup of tea. Tina’s husband, Fireman Graham, is outside helping Mr Pallfrey light the bonfire, using approved Fire Brigade techniques which seem to rely on lots of twigs and rolled-up sheets of newspaper rather than chucking half a can of petrol on and then running away.
I open the French doors in the dining room so we can go in and out with plates of food, while Mark warms up a saucepan of butternut squash soup with cinnamon, with Nelly climbing up his leg while he doles out bowlfuls. Archie announces he loves orange food, and will only be eating orange things from now on, and then it all goes a bit Lord of the Flies, particularly when we do the lucky dip, which seemed like a good alternative to party bags when I first thought of it, but in reality means I end up with sawdust all over the garden. The toffee apples go down very well, though, especially for jousting and duelling purposes; although they’re not ideal if you take the cellophane wrappers off and then accidentally drop them back in the box of sawdust.
We stand watching Graham and Mr Pallfrey guarding the bonfire and trying to stop the occasional shower of sparks from burning down the hedge. Cath and Olivia arrive, along with Cath’s teenage son Toby, who’s only fourteen but at least six foot two, with a very determined quiff in his hair which seems to work for Lauren, who sidles up to him and starts chatting and giggling, which makes him go bright red. I volunteer Elsie for sparkler sentry duty while I collect up plates and try to stop Archie throwing baked potatoes into the bonfire because some idiot’s told him they’ll explode and he’s desperate to have a go, and then Martin helps Mr Pallfrey light the fireworks. They’re fairly modest, thank God, but they get a very enthusiastic response, particularly from Trevor, who’s having a fabulous time, stealing the occasional sausage and dragging Travis and a small boy called Philip round the garden, since they seem to have volunteered to try to keep hold of him. Elsie’s making everyone with a sparkler stand arm-widths apart, with no poking anybody’s hood, and only four at a time. She’s got a bucket of water at the ready for anyone who Starts Being Silly, and they have to form a queue or she won’t light their sparkler: I knew she’d be the perfect person to bring a bit of order to the chaos.
Martin comes over with a bucket of used fireworks: he’s taken his bobble hat off and his hair is sticking up in tufts.
‘I thought I’d better get rid of these, sha
ll I put them in your bin?’
‘Great. Thanks, Martin.’
‘There’s a couple that didn’t go off, but I’ve soaked them in water, so they should be fine. Just don’t throw any lighted matches in the bin.’
I’m having visions of my rubbish being airborne now.
‘I’ll try to remember that.’
‘I wanted a quick word, actually.’
Excellent. This is the perfect time to be talking about Wood. ‘Oh yes?’
‘I want to go in tomorrow to give them another coat of wax. Mum says I can use her keys, but I wanted to check that it was okay with you first.’
‘Of course, that’s fine, and you must tell me what I owe you.’
‘You can pay me when I’ve finished. I’ve still got a few more bits to do.’
‘Well, if you’re sure.’
He smiles.
‘Did you have a nice supper with your friends? Fish pie, wasn’t it?’
‘Yes, although we all drank a bit too much and Ellen wanted to play strip poker, so you were probably better off with your hotpot.’
He smiles again, but he sort of flinches, too. Damn, I didn’t mean it to sound like that.
‘I’m not sure your mum would approve of strip poker, would she?’
Christ, I’m just making it worse now.
‘No, probably not, although what she does or doesn’t approve of isn’t exactly top of my list, you know.’
‘Of course not. I didn’t mean—’
‘No, I know you didn’t, sorry. It just gets to me a bit, living at home. Still, the divorce will be through soon, and then I can get a place of my own.’
‘Will you stay around here?’
‘Yes, I like it. It was nice to get away, move somewhere else, but now I’m back I realise how much I like it here. The way people talk to each other, you feel part of something, don’t you?’
‘Yes, you do.’
‘So if you hear of anywhere, especially anywhere with space for a workroom, I’d be really grateful.’
‘Sure. I’ll keep a look-out.’
‘And I’ll be in tomorrow, to do the shelves.’
