by Kitty Wilson
You can’t have a new best friend. I’m your newest.
Not any more.
But I’ve barely unpacked. Surely that shoots me to the top of the new list.
It shoots you to the top of the most disorganised list.
Ouch. Little bit harsh.
A little harsh and a big fib. You are the most organised person I know. I bet you have unpacked really.
Of course, I have. Still want to be your newest friend though.
Uh-huh and I want a pony and a swimming pool. Life’s tough like that. See you in the morning!
Hmmmm.
Chapter Twenty-two
‘Kam, Kam, Kam!’ A week after Pippa had been moaning about her mum and now his own mother’s unrelenting squawk was piercing his head. Someone needed to record it and turn it into an app. No one was staying in bed after hearing that. Including him. He knew it was May Fayre day and he was getting up early to get to work; he just felt five thirty was pushing it a bit.
‘Mum,’ he answered, experience had taught him that the quicker the answer the less likely the din was to continue, even in a conversation with a door between them.
‘I don’t know what to wear and it’s a very important day.’
‘Mum, I appreciate you coming down to help but the May Fayre isn’t until this afternoon. It starts at five.’
‘And you said I could come in to school with you and help the PTA set it up. Well, I have to look my best for that, don’t I? Now come and help me choose my outfit and I’ll make you a nice cup of peppermint tea.’
‘Can’t the girls help?’
‘Oh, you know those girls, they’ll sleep until lunch if I let them.’
‘Don’t let them then.’ By this point he had got himself out of bed and was smoothing his hair down in front of the mirror. It didn’t matter what he did with it; it always seemed to stick up like it did when he was eight years old. He wondered if it would at eighty. He supposed that would presume he still had hair at eighty, at which point he’d be grateful for its sticky-up-ness. There was a sharp knocking at his bedroom door.
‘Kam, Kam, Kam, Kam.’ It was how he imagined machine gun fire: loud, staccato and piercing.
He pulled the door open quickly.
‘Why have you not got any clothes on? Hmmm? You know better than this.’
‘Mum, it’s not even dawn. It’s still dark and even the birds aren’t up yet. Trust me: when the seagulls are still asleep, then so should you be.’ He may have always loved the sea but living right next to it was teaching him that Cornish seagulls seemed particularly ferocious first thing in the morning, as if they hatched plans to make it as noisy as possible. Sometimes he swore they were playing the drums on bin lids right outside his window. Other times they emitted a noise so piercing that it chilled the soul. Either way, they were nearly as efficient as his mother when it came to working as an alarm.
‘Don’t you want to go back to bed for an hour, maybe two?’ There was no harm in being optimistic and he smiled at his mother in what he hoped was a winning fashion. He knew he would be very keen.
‘You know mornings are when I’m at my most productive.’ She rammed a hot mug into his hand with a pale green liquid steaming inside. It looked nice but it wasn’t coffee.
‘I know, Mum. But it’s going to be a really long day. A marathon. You want to be your best at the fayre tonight, so maybe just rest up and take it easy.’
‘Things don’t get done if you’re always resting. Your father didn’t rest when he was building up his business.’
‘I bet he is now though,’ Kam muttered, knowing his father would be having a blissful lie-in, until six thirty at least whilst his wife was away.
‘Now, hurry up.’ She clapped her hands together before breaking into a big wide smile and standing on her tiptoes planted a big kiss on her son’s cheek. He accepted in that moment that he was up for the day and may as well make the most of it. ‘Breakfast is all ready for you. Come on now.’
* * *
‘Hiya. Good morning. Oh hello,’ Pippa grinned a greeting, as a bleary Kam showed his mother into the classroom.
‘Hello, darling, who are you?’
‘This is Miss Parkin. She’s the teaching assistant in Class One,’ Kam formally introduced Pippa to his mum, not unaware of how bloody gorgeous she was looking today. A sweet little dress with flowers on made her look both demure, which his mother would like, and also skimmed her shape rather nicely, which he couldn’t help but be a fan of.
‘Hello, Miss Parkin, hmmm?’
‘It certainly is. It’s a pleasure to meet you Mrs Choudhury.’
‘Is that two cups of coffee? You do know coffee is not good for your body? Caffeine is addictive. It can lead to dependence, headaches, anxiety, all sorts of things. It interferes with that natural calm that we all need. We don’t want to do that, do we, darling? I’m surprised Kam hasn’t told you that coffee is best avoided, and two cups at a time… It looks like the addiction has taken a full hold. He’s a good boy, he listens. His father on the other hand… hmmm… he thinks I don’t know he keeps a secret jar in his van and drinks it at work all day. And then he wonders why he has so much trouble sleeping and can’t get up in the mornings. What can I do? I tell him and I tell him.’ She shrugged as Pippa glanced at Kam and he wondered if she could see that headaches and mild anxiety may indeed be taking hold. None of which were to do with not having his morning coffee.
‘I know, it’s a dreadful habit, two coffees in the morning before the children come in. I shall have a good think about what you’ve said.’ Pippa flashed her most pleasing smile and Kam’s heart melted a little. He had known she wouldn’t rat him out.
‘You do that, darling. So, if you’re the teaching assistant, does that mean my Kam is your boss, hmmm?’
‘No! Mum! It means we work alongside each other. As a team!’
‘It kinda means he’s my boss.’
Kam’s mum nodded happily. ‘And is he a good one? Kind?’
‘He is. I’m very happy working alongside him.’ Pippa gave her a firm smile and Kam stood watching her as her personality shone from her eyes. His sunshine girl. Then he realised if his mother caught him watching Pippa and grinning, he was going to be in for nine zillion questions later. And Kam was not a fan of being questioned by his mother. It had taken up the majority of his childhood.
He remembered the boy who used to stand in front of the cooker, hands in his pockets, shifting from foot to foot, as she fired a million and one questions at him: Why are you late home from school? Why aren’t you prioritising your studies? So, I hear Ben got an A in maths this week. What is wrong with you?
Questions about Pippa he was not prepared to answer. He really didn’t need his mother piling the pressure on with a million suggestions as to how he ran his personal life. It was time to get his mother out of the classroom for a minute, He recognised that beady look in her eye.
‘Right well, let me show you the staffroom and introduce you to the other members of staff.’
‘That’s very kind, darling, but I think I’ll stay here.’
‘Don’t you want to meet everyone?’
‘Yes, but I think I’d like to get to know Miss Parkin first.’
‘Pippa, please. Miss Parkin sounds far too formal, and I hope we’re going to become friends.’
Mrs Choudhury’s face lit up as Kam heard himself let out an involuntary sigh. Quite a loud one.
‘Perhaps Pippa could take me if you’re determined to have me out of your classroom.’
‘I’m not trying to get you out of my—’
‘It’s fine. I did most of the prep yesterday, I knew today would be manic. Come on, Mrs Choudhury, let me give you the whistle-stop tour. Today is going to be fun. I love the May Fayre, one of my favourite times of the year, so I’m so glad you’re here to see it. I hope you’re a fan of bunting. And I understand that you’re helping out on the cake stall this afternoon…’ Kam watched Pippa lead his mum out of the classroom, chatting nin
eteen to the dozen and weaving her magic. He really hoped this didn’t go horribly wrong.
He seemed to wait with his breath held until both women reappeared in the classroom, Pippa offering Kam a mug of peppermint tea. ‘Here you go, your mum says this was what you like to drink.’ She managed not to give away anything in her face as she said it. What a trooper. ‘She’s been telling me all about your family. I can’t wait to meet your sisters later. They sound hilarious. And she told me that your friend Ben in Newquay has been your best friend since you were four. That’s really cute. She says he’s very good at maths.’ She couldn’t help a little smirk then, and he watched her scarlet lip curve up with mischief. ‘You never told me you had known him since you were babies. Why didn’t you mention that?’
Before he had a chance to answer his mother, never short of words, jumped in. ‘He never tells anyone anything. Plays all his cards close to his chest, don’t you, Kam darling?’
‘Not really.’
‘Oh, he does, I’ve lost count of the times he just kisses me on the head, right here,’ – she tapped the top of her head, bang in the centre – ‘and then walks away, never answering my questions. Like why is he still single after all these years? Hmmm? Hmmm?’
‘I can’t answer that, Mrs Choudhury.’ Pippa shot Kam the most mischievous look. She was clearly enjoying this far too much.
‘Oh, if only there were answers. I ask nearly every week, I say, “Kam darling why can’t you just find—”’
‘Mum.’
‘Let me talk. I say, “why can’t you just find a nice—”’
‘Mum!’ Kam shouted so loud that the heads of parents who were waiting in the playground to drop their children off, spun around.
Pippa was fighting the laughter and beautifully too. She was managing to maintain her most professional face. He did not doubt for a minute that her interest was sincere, but he knew Pippa well enough now to know the crinkle between her eyes was not due to age or stress but to laughter fighting to break out. He was mortified.
He loved his mum and knew that, despite her disappointment that he had walked away from the family business, she – unlike his father – was secretly proud that he had finally used his degree and become a teacher. He knew that she was proud of what he was now doing for a living; she just wished he’d do it in Middlesbrough, get married and pop out several grandchildren for her. If he could let his mum and dad chose his bride for him at the same time, well, that would just make all her dreams come true.
He knew she had been eying up potentials for at least a decade, if not longer. One of the advantages in living in Cornwall was that he was no longer subjected to surprise dinners as he had been when living at home. He’d return home after working all hours with his dad, hands in loos or manky-smelling standing water, only to find his mother cooking up a storm having invited some girl she fancied having as a daughter-in-law over to eat. Just before he had left to move down south, she had been steadily working through his sisters’ friends as potential candidates. He supposed he should be grateful she hadn’t made a minibus of possible wives drive down the motorway. Although there was always time.
‘Mum, I need to let the kids in. Please, can you leave any of your personal comments on my life until the classroom is empty at the end of the day? None of the children need to know what a bitter disappointment Mr Choudhury is in the marital stakes.’
Pippa sputtered into her now cold coffee. She was clearly determined to finish both cups.
‘Oh, before you let them in, Kam. Remember we need to look after Marion today. You still up for it?’
‘Of course.’ Kam smiled back at her, trying to block out his mother who was watching their interaction keenly. Because becoming best friends with Marion Marksharp today was exactly what he needed.
Chapter Twenty-three
Pippa had had a great morning. She had really enjoyed spending the day with Kam’s mum, who wasn’t shy of sharing stories about her son and his mischiefs. Pippa’s favourite was that as a boy he was so dedicated to his swimming that he used to spray that skin replacement stuff, the spray plaster, in between his fingers to see if he could make them webbed like the sea birds that dotted the shores. How cute was that?
She also found out that he had taken the title in the Saltburn surf competitions almost every year since he was old enough to enter. His dream of surfing professionally hadn’t been an empty ambition. She had spent bits of today daydreaming about the two of them as a couple, touring around in a little VW as he surfed and she cooked sausages and hand-sewed. It was such a shame that he didn’t feel the same. Perhaps if her mum knew that she had a mild crush then she’d stop spouting her nonsense about walls. No, that was a bad idea. The meddling would kill Pippa’s romantic imaginings stone dead, and she was enjoying keeping this crush exactly where it belonged: in her head.
Hello, love!’ Jan wandered into the hall where Pippa was doing this daydreaming, whilst dragging tables into place for the fayre.
‘Hi, mum. Thanks for helping with this.’
‘No worries, sweetie. I’m sorry if you thought I was having a go the other day, you’re a good girl. I know I was a little harsh, but you do need to consider some of the things I said. How’s Marion been today?’
‘Well, whilst I shouldn’t speak ill of the queen in her very own domain, she’s seemed pretty normal: patrolling the corridors and shouting at people.’
‘Well, I suppose that’s a good thing. Let’s get this cake stall up and running. I’ve brought some biscuits and made a nice pineapple upsidedown cake as well. I just saw Rosy, and she’s donated a chocolate cake, a coffee and walnut one and a lemon drizzle. She’s a good woman that. See, baking isn’t just for us oldies.’
‘I never said it was. I just don’t need to make cakes because I’ve got your biscuits!’
‘That you have. Now, who am I on with this year? Joanna said she’d never be coming back after the way Marion spoke to her last year. I said that we all had to put up with that if we wanted to help the Penmenna community. She said she’d rather donate fifty quid and never run the risk of having to speak to her again. I don’t think you’re going to find anyone as good as Joanna.’
‘Well, I think you might be in for a treat. You know the new teacher I’m working alongside?’
‘The temporary one?’
‘Yes. His mum’s down for a few days for half term and she loves to bake as well. It would appear I have found your northern equivalent. She’s already left three Tupperware containers full of sweet treats in the staffroom.’ She was half tempted to tell her about Kam’s mother’s commitment to getting him married off – something she knew her mother could relate to – but self-preservation kicked in.
‘Oh, I shall go and have a little look. When is she going to get here? Is she going to help—’
‘Ah Pippa darling, there you are. Let me introduce you to my daughters, Nisha, Hema and Anuja.’ Pippa and her mother turned to see Mrs Choudhury bustling over with three young women behind her.
‘Hello, how lovely to meet you.’ Pippa grinned a welcome to them. She had been excited all day about meeting the three sisters that Kam claimed terrorised him, and now they stood before her, all three with the same exquisite eyes as their brother – with the same identical flash of playfulness. Apart from that, though, they were wildly different from each other.
‘Hello, we’ve heard all about you.’ The youngest one, Anuja (Pippa imagined her to be a similar age as Polly) grinned mischievously. She was long-haired and long-limbed, and wearing a scarlet and gold dress that Pippa instantly fell in love with. She was glossy from top to toe, and had an assurance that radiated out of her.
‘And I have heard that you force your big brother to watch animal videos online. That must take some doing.’ She knew that Anuja was the dramatic one, currently working as an actress for a regional theatre company up in Middlesbrough. Looking at her Pippa had no doubt that she would become fabulously successful. The other two were a little sh
orter, and she guessed that Nisha, who was a history geek but worked for an insurance company, was the one in jeans and a hoodie, and Hema, who Kam had said inherited their mother’s culinary skills and helped run a café, was the one with the cropped hair and huge earrings.
‘Oh, he’s a dreadful fibber. Can’t believe a word he says,’ the younger one giggled. ‘He loves them, and does it voluntarily. Loves them. Makes us watch them with him, not the other way around. He’s strange like that.’
‘Don’t believe Anuja. She’s terribly naughty.’ Mrs Choudhury gave her youngest daughter a look of such reproach it would put Jan to shame. Yet Anuja giggled rather than withered into obedience. ‘She adores Kam. We all do and he is very normal, very kind, and clearly has endless patience for his sisters, especially Anuja.’
‘To be fair all those years with her have meant he can easily deal with a classroom of five-years-olds,’ the sister with the spiky hair spoke, her tone free of malice as she offered Pippa her hand. ‘Hi, I’m Nisha.’ Pippa took her hand and grinned her hello. So much for making assumptions.
‘I haven’t met Mr Choudhury yet,’ Jan jumped into the conversation with a very pointed tone. No, thought Pippa, and with good reason too. I’ve been keeping him safe, and you’ve had your hands full plotting my wedding, four christenings and my retirement with James.
‘Ah well, we shall remedy that then. Kam, Kam, Kam, Kam, come here.’
Pippa couldn’t see him in the hall but his mother’s call was disturbing, sounding exactly like a car alarm. Suddenly the move down to Cornwall made a little more sense.
‘So, are you down in Penmenna long?’ Jan had started to pump the girls and Kam’s mother for information. They weren’t aware that she had serious skills at this. Had she been born but a few centuries earlier Pippa was under no illusion that she would have led the Spanish Inquisition and probably had it wrapped up by teatime.
