by Caron Allan
But then got downstairs to find smoke-filled kitchen! There was a lot of swearing – it turned out Lill was poorly with a heavy cold and had stayed in bed, and two grown men were in charge of producing breakfast when said men clearly utterly incapable of finding their own arses with both hands and a map. They managed a pot of tea, but the toast was cinders, the fire-alarm had to be disabled due to the fact that we wanted to retain our hearing, smoke everywhere, bits all over the floor, a broken cup (Wedgwood!!!!) and God alone knows what else. Honestly! Even Billy and Paddy looked worried – as if they might somehow be blamed for all this.
So am feeling very smug now: I launched into action. Swept up mess, opened doors and windows, chucked out toast, produced china and cutlery, reminded men bad language deffo not allowed in front of little people, as we do NOT want Paddy and Billy spouting F-words in the queue at the post office as if they were born on a council estate (which to be fair, as I remembered later, they were.) Reassured kiddies. Sorted out half-starved felines, soothed men with refill of tea mugs, provision of scrambled eggs (see, I can cook!) and toast for The Boys, and soldiers for sprogs. Felt like Shirley Conran’s Superwoman! Marvellous! Am deffo Domestic Goddess. Oh crap, just spilt egg all down my top.
Then I nipped up with a tray to see how Lill was doing. And not a moment too soon – found her with one arm in her dressing-gown (or bathrobe as I call them), about to come down to see what had happened.
Got her back to bed and she was so apologetic for being ill, and so grateful for me bringing her a measly pot of tea and a pile of toast. She hauled herself up in bed and I plumped up the old pillows a bit, made her a bit more comfy, felt all maternal and proud of my domestic abilities which had been rather dormant for some time. Also felt quite smug and happy about my newly-discovered concern for others. Am deffo growing as a person.
Lill looked awful actually. But I’m not surprised. As I told her, she’s been with me for two years and had virtually no holiday, works about 90 hours a week, and had no time off sick either.
“But it’s not work anymore,” she began to protest weakly, “I do it cos I enjoy it.”
I shoved the newly-arrived Tetley out of the way and sat down on the bed.
“I know you do, and I think we’ve reached a point where we need to think about things.” I said. Immediately she looked as though I’d said she was to be sent to the guillotine at dawn. I hurried on, hoping to set her mind at ease. “I mean, obviously I can’t treat my future in-laws as servants anymore.”
I thought she’d take issue with the ‘servants’ bit, but no, all her attention was caught by the phrase ‘future in-laws’. She made snuffling noises behind a tissue, her eyebrows raised to indicate a question.
“Well,” I said, “I’m thinking of asking Matt to marry me. Do you think he’d mind?”
She smiled and buried her face in a fresh handful of tissues, blowing hard and mopping her flooding cheeks. I’d forgotten she had a cold, and the sudden rush of emotion seemed to have exacerbated her symptoms. The blowing continued for another minute, then she said, “I thig you’ll hab to ged in quig. Do you really love hib, den?”
I nodded. “I do,” I said. “And I want to make it all legal. But as I was saying ...”
“You will be wanting me and Sid to move out, so’s you can just be a family.” She said, then before I had a chance to comment, and fighting back more tears she continued heroically, “of course you will, no young couple wants their parents hanging about the place, ain’t romantic, it’s all right, we understand ...”
“I do want you around,” I told her. “You and Sid are part of my life, part of my family, not just because of Matt. And this house is plenty big enough for all of us. But it’s just – well – it’s not that I mind paying you, it’s just that it feels a bit odd …”
“I quite agree. I’ll talk to Our Sid. How would it be if we was to give notice, and then if you’re sure you’re happy for us to stay on, we could discuss what rent …”
“Nonsense,” I said firmly and poured out a second cup of tea. “I won’t pay you, and you won’t pay me. Can we just share out the household jobs?”
“Well, Cressida, I’m glad to do anyfink around the house, just as I always hab, as you dow. But it is a big house, and there’s more of us now, and more to come. I’be been thinking about it for a while. I was wondering what about some part-time help? Only I met this lady in the post office as could do with a few hours a week. She could ‘oover and do the barfrooms, and that would be a hooge help. Especially when the new little ‘un arrives.”
It made sense. I said as much, adding,
“I’ll be guided by you, Lill. Whatever hours and wages you feel is correct, I will be happy with. But I insist on you and Sid having a proper holiday. You need a break, and I’m being selfish really because with Paddy and Billy and then next year, Thomas Sidney, it’ll be all hands on deck.”
Then I had another little thought then said, “and if a holiday is a bit out of the question money-wise, I’d be very happy to help. After all the two of you have done for me, it’s the least …”
Lill shook her head then had a sneezing fit that sent Tetley racing from the room. Finally she recovered sufficiently to be able to say, “No, Cressida, it’s not a problem at all. You’ve been so generous to us these last two years, we’ve quite a nice little nest egg set aside. I’ll speak with our Sid about going away, it’ll be just what the doctor ordered!”
I got up, and on impulse, leaned forward and kissed her cheek, then felt a bit embarrassed at the display and said, “bang on the floor if you need anything,” and bolted from the room.
Families eh? The emotional toll on one’s resources. I went downstairs to sort out the madness in the kitchen. Couldn’t let Lill see all that mess and chaos, the shock would probably kill her.
Thursday 24 July – 11.30am
Lill still very poorly and staying in bed, so we continued taking up food and drink to her at regular intervals although today she actually seems a bit worse – she doesn’t feel like eating very much, doesn’t want to do anything but sleep. Common sense tells me this is probably the best approach to getting better, but dark thoughts creep in on one, don’t they, and I can’t stop thinking, what if it’s more serious than we realise, what if she’s really ill, what if she dies????? There’s no way I can manage without her, she’s always there, sorting us all out, not just the way she runs my – our - household effortlessly but the way she always has biscuits and tea and time to listen to one’s worries. If I lose her, everything will fall apart!
Am keeping the little ones right away, this family thing is all new to me, and there’s no way I can cope with poorly kiddies on top of all this!
Fortunately ‘the Boys’ managed to make their own breakfast today without burning the house down, and I got the children washed and dressed and sent them out to run around in the garden for a little bit. We are now the proud possessors of a football and a little net, and a doll’s pram (which Paddy loves, much to Sid and Matt’s stereotypical concern) with a couple of ‘babies’ in it, though more usually it’s one of the kittens.
Oh God! I know this is horribly selfish of me, but I hope Lill’s feeling better tomorrow or the day after, I can’t cope with the strain of everything being different.
Same day – later – 4.05pm
Didn’t go down the pub to meet Henrietta as usual, but it’s raining quite hard so not sure if she would have been there anyway. ‘The Boys’ did say they wouldn’t mind me going, in fact they tried to encourage me, but I stayed in and played games with the children and washed the dishes (none of us know how to work Lill’s space-age dishwasher!) then flicked a duster around a few places. Not really quite sure what housework involves, plus have yet to discover whereabouts of most of the equipment. Matt vacuumed the family-room, as that’s the one we use the most and it was a bit grotty. Nice to think he can turn his hand to a bit of cleaning!
Sid, however, disappeared quite early on, more or
less as soon as he’d taken up Lill’s breakfast, he was mumbling something about ‘grommets’. Hmm. I suspect a manly withdrawal from domestic crisis to sanctum of workshop.
It’s been a while since I saw Madison, so gave her a tinkle and set-up a grown-ups play-date for Saturday morning as she says Sacha is busy with something then. So that will be nice. Also, Matt said he saw a poster on the board outside the church advertising a parent-and-pre-schoolers playgroup at the church hall twice-weekly, and I have rung up about that. Will be able to take Billy and Paddy to that on Monday and Wednesday mornings, which is perfect as it won’t interfere with my trips to the pub on Tuesdays and Thursdays, though probably won’t mention that to anyone as it sounds as though I’m an alky. But it will be nice for them to meet other little people and possibly even meet up outside for play.
Same day – later still – 10.35pm
Matt and I took the children out to the village park between downpours - he had thoughtfully provided a couple of rags to wipe down the swings - and we all had fun playing – although it took Billy in particular quite a while to catch on that swings were fun and not scary. To begin with I sat her on my lap on the swing and Matt pushed both of us (I haven’t had so much fun for twenty years, not that I told him that!) and eventually she realised that if she held on tight she would be safe and have fun and not fall off. Finally she had a little go all on her own – I felt so proud! Every day these two achieve a little bit more and their world grows a little bit wider. It’s almost a miracle!
We went on the roundabout (bit scary!), the climbing frame, the see-saw, the slide, then we took them for a walk around the pond and chucked bread at the ducks. The ducks were a bit big and scary for the children but Matt scooped up Billy and let her throw bread from the safety of his arms, and Paddy held my hand, stepping behind me for shelter if the ducks got a bit close for comfort. All good clean family fun.
Then we went home and sat in front of the telly and watched some kiddies progs for half an hour, then it was time for their tea, bath and story-time and bed. They sleep soundly like little angels now and we always have the evening to ourselves.
It’s so astounding, the children are so little trouble, so well behaved, so sweet, I can’t imagine anyone ever treating them badly – what could they ever possibly do to make anyone so angry they would give up all their moral values and all self-control and decency and everything simply to get pleasure from hurting them? How could they? I just don’t get it.
By mid-evening Lill was feeling a little bit better, and came downstairs in her pyjamas and bathrobe and sat in the family-room watching her ‘stories’. Such an overwhelming sense of relief! She was definitely a bit better. Maybe she was just over-tired and her body decided it needed a rest? Anyway, I am hoping, very selfishly, that she will be back in the saddle tomorrow or at the latest the day after – this last two days has been a nightmare! Will deffo push her to get on with finding herself an understudy in case of any future sickness/holiday.
Fell into bed and can hardly write for droopy eyelids. But this life is now so pleasant, so perfect. I am beginning to be afraid something awful will happen to spoil everything.
Friday 25 July – 11.45pm
Something is niggling at me, not sure why I feel it’s important. It’s the teeniest little thing but I haven’t been able to put it out of my mind. And because of my stupid last line last night. Now I am terrified it was prophetic and so I can’t seem to be able to dismiss what happened with the confidence I should.
When I got up this morning, there were two missed calls on my phone. One at 3.25 this morning, the other at 4.15. Both say ‘number withheld’.
That’s it. That’s all. That’s everything that’s happened. And yet it’s caused me to go completely to pieces. I’m insane to let it upset me. In fact I’m a bit scared by the fact that I have let it upset me. Why am I bothered by this trivial occurrence? I mean, I know it’s probably some insurance cold-caller, or something like that. But somehow it seems significant.
Lill is up but not dressed. She isn’t sneezing now but is exhausted and has no appetite. She is curled up on the sofa in the family-room with a blanket over her and cats dotted about, keeping her company or draining the life out of her, depending on your point of view. She’s reading something by Catherine Cookson, and when that’s too exhausting, she flicks through Woman’s Weekly or has a little doze.
Uneventful appointment with Doctor. She has not had back the report from the ultrasound but says she will have it in a few days. I told her all about it, and she was pleased for me, pleased ‘Daddy’ and I were so excited and I showed her the picture. She smiled, opened a drawer and took out a similar picture. I looked at it. It wasn’t quite as clear as mine but obviously it was her baby, so special to her.
“How old is she? He?” I asked, handing it back. She smiled at the photo again before putting it away.
“He. He’s nineteen now. At Uni. And I know it sounds daft, but for me he will always be the baby in that picture.”
I almost had to get a tissue out of my bag. Must be my hormones. What are we women like?
But what she said made me realise I have a long future of watching not just Paddy and Billy grow, but also watching Thomas Sidney grow. He will go through teething, crawling, walking, running, school, Uni, work or career, marry, become a father himself. And I went all weepy and had to sit in the car for a few mins composing myself. Will be glad when my hormones sort themselves out and I stop being such a cry-baby.
I had my phone turned off at the Doctor’s and just before I drove back (not that it’s a long walk, but it’s still wet and not very nice out), I turned it back on. And anxiously scanned the screen for any missed calls or new messages. There was one message. It was with something very similar to relief I saw it was from Nadina: “hi Cressy jus to let you knw famly have scattrd ashes so all done and the Will read. Monny left you little smthng will post to you hope all ok luv Nad”
Monny? Nad? Cressy!!?? OMG! When did Nadina become such a bosom-buddy of Monica that she was allowed that liberty? Anyway I was glad the ashes had been thrown out so that really is the closing chapter of that particular book. Thank God! I felt a little twinge of excitement at the prospect of the ‘little something’. I wonder what it is? Most unexpected. I shall look forward to finding out!
Drove home feeling a bit better. All going well on the child-bearing front, Lill getting better, and a mysterious package on its way: my world was a rosy place once again. Then as I was about to get out of the car at home, felt a definite little kick from within – Thomas Sidney making his presence felt – that was the first time I had felt that and I sat there savouring the moment, talking to my belly, urging him to do it again. But he didn’t. It was something new to tell everyone though.
However, as soon as I got in, Matt greeted me from the kitchen with the offer of a cup of tea and as he went back inside, he said over his shoulder, “a parcel arrived for you.”
“That was quick.” I said. Feeling an ooh-goody twinge, I followed him into the kitchen. Sid and the children were sitting at the table having some lunch - it sounded like he was telling them a story, Lill was in the breakfast-nook, still keeping her distance a bit so as not to pass on her germs, but looking quite cheery, with Tetley sprawled across her lap, sound asleep. I sat down at the table and pulled the little package towards me, already feeling a sense of disappointment due to its size, or lack thereof. With everyone watching me, I pulled off the brown paper to reveal a piece of notepaper and a jiffy bag with my name scrawled across it in Monica’s spidery handwriting. After the barest glance at the note from Nadina I looked at the contents of the jiffy bag.
Two DVDs. A dozen or so photos. That was it. I turned back to the note. I read it carefully and the last sentence told me slightly more – but not much. The message read: “Soz Darling, I know it doesn’t look like much but Monny said in her will that these things had a sentimental attachment for the two of you and she really, really wanted you to
have them. xx Nad.”
The DVDs were Hitchcock’s Strangers on a Train, and a teen-flick from years ago, I Know What You Did Last Summer. My stomach did a sudden lurch. I looked at the photos. There were about half a dozen snaps of Thomas and I with some of our old friends, and a few of me on my own. Nothing I could bear to look at. With trembling hands, I pushed everything back into the jiffy bag, including the note and set it all to one side, picking up the mug of tea Matt had set in front of me and carrying it through to the breakfast-nook. I felt sick. Was aware of a weird feeling of some kind, like something unseen beside me nudging me in the ribs. I had to sit down feeling suddenly as though my legs were going out from under me.
Matt was beside me, taking the mug from my hand before I spilled hot tea all down myself, and Lill half-rose from the sofa, her voice echoing around the room, bouncing off the ceiling and floor and walls, asking me if I was all right, asking me what had happened.
Matt sat down next to me and pulled me into his arms, and I can remember clinging to him as if he was a life-ring. And I could hear my own voice miles away, saying, “it’s nothing, I don’t know why I’m so upset, it’s just – it’s nothing. I don’t understand.”
And the children were clutching at me, frightened too, and Sid was coming over, the jiffy bag in his hands and handing it to Matt who was looking inside, and Lill was chivvying the children into the family-room with promise of telly and telling them it was all right, I was just tired.
Matt said, “what the fuck …” and Sid turned to see what he was looking at. I picked up my tea and gulped some down, scalding my throat as I did so. The tea and the pain in my throat steadied me and I said, “it’s nothing really, I was just upset by the photos of Thomas, it was so unexpected.”
