“Why?”
“Because we’re gonna need it after tonight.”
“I’m not getting drunk,” said Jo. “I’m going to be good.”
“Yeah right.”
“I am,” said Jo, picking up her handbag and shutting her bedroom door behind them. “I need my wits about me tomorrow, and, anyway, I haven’t got the energy.”
Chapter 29
Next morning, Jo’s brain was Pot Noodle. The first thing she was conscious of was the pain in her head caused by the sound of Pippa standing over her bed tutting.
“Shhhhh,” she moaned. “I’ve got a headache.”
Pippa thrust a takeout coffee under her nose.
“It’s noon,” shouted Pippa. “We have to get started.”
“Witch,” whispered Jo through cracked lips.
Pippa opened the curtain onto next door’s building site and opened the window.
“Ah!” she said. “Breathe in all that fresh concrete. Last night’s rain has highlighted its piquant aroma. That reminds me, do you remember falling in the puddle and thinking you were drowning?”
Jo turned her head away and tried not to cry. She heard Pippa turn on the shower, come back into the room, and pull her duvet off her.
“Don’t!” she shrieked, pulling the duvet back. “He might come in. He doesn’t knock anymore.”
“Josh is watching TV in the living room,” said Pippa. “He was the one who let me in.”
Jo glanced up.
“How did he look?”
“Um,” considered Pippa. “Tall, dark, and handsome?”
“I mean how did he seem?”
“Quiet.”
“Quiet sad or quiet happy?”
“For Christ’s sake, Jo, just tell him how you feel.”
Jo sat up and counted, using her fingers.
“I feel one: furious, two: misrepresented, three: misunderstood, four: hard-done-by, and”—Jo stared hard at her fifth finger—“and a bit sick.”
“Get in that shower,” ordered Pippa.
Jo stumbled into the bathroom.
Josh, meanwhile, sat watching the living room television while sorting out his latest bank statement. Vanessa and Dick were driving to Brighton for a day trip alone, and he’d happily said he’d baby-sit. He was using the opportunity to sort through his accounts, a job he did religiously, every single time he remembered. For an accountant, his own personal accounts were in rather a state.
After an hour, he realized he’d left some receipts in his room. He knew that Pippa had arrived and had heard the shower going and the kettle boiling, so he was fairly sure Jo was up. He wandered through her room, nodding briefly to Pippa as he did so and glancing at Jo’s rucksack and the boxes which had crept into his room.
“Sorry,” Jo said stiffly. “We’ll move everything if it’s a problem. It was just easier.”
“No problem,” he told Pippa, before striding out.
Jo looked over at Pippa.
“See?” she said.
Josh shut the living room door behind him and continued with his accounts. The predictability of sums always calmed his mind. Just when he realized he was hungry, Toby poked his head round the living room door. He coughed slightly, and Josh turned to him.
“Alright, mate?”
“Yeah.”
Toby came and sat down.
Josh turned off the TV and his calculator. “What’s on your mind?”
“What do you get a girlfriend for an anniversary?” Toby tried to look cool.
Josh frowned. “How long have you been seeing her?”
“Two months.”
“Blimey, mate, in teenage time you’re married.”
A look of panic flew across Toby’s face.
“Joke. What do you want the present to say?”
Toby shrugged.
“What are her hobbies?”
Toby shrugged.
“What does she like to buy?”
Toby shrugged.
“What were you thinking of buying her?”
Toby shrugged.
Josh nodded slowly. “I see you’ve thought this all through.”
“Clothes?” ventured Toby.
“Too risky.”
“Makeup?”
“Too insulting.”
“Condoms?”
“What?”
“Joke.”
They thought for a while, before saying at the same time, “Flowers.”
“Universal language, mate,” explained Josh.
“Yeah.” Toby grinned knowingly.
“For ‘I give up.’”
Toby snorted into a laugh that danced recklessly around the octaves, and Josh decided it was the perfect time to say something that had been on his mind for so long now it had made an imprint.
“Tobe. Are you happy at school?”
Another snort.
“Do you remember me when I was at school?” he continued.
“Yeah, you had to wear a poxy uniform that made you look like an ‘idgit.’”
“Do you know why I had a uniform like that?”
“’Cos of the school you went to. Stupid.”
“Yeah, and do you know why my school is different from yours?”
“Yeah, course. Mum and Dad had to pay money for yours.”
“That’s right.”
Toby waited.
“Do you mind about that?” asked Josh. “That Mum and Dad sent me to a private school that pushed me hard to achieve good grades? And they sent you to the local comprehensive?”
He watched Toby mull the question for a bit.
“Did you enjoy school?” Toby asked him eventually.
“No.”
“Do you like your job?”
“No. Hate it.”
Toby shrugged. “Nah. I don’t mind that you got the raw deal. Besides, I wouldn’t have met Anastasia if I’d gone to a lame private school in that budgit uniform.”
Josh felt his shoulders lighten.
“Josh,” mumbled Toby.
“Mm?”
Toby took a deep breath and proceeded to speak in staccato phrases. “I’m sorry…I said…you thought Jo was a babe. I wasn’t…trying to piss you off.”
“It’s alright.”
“I didn’t know you didn’t want me to say it.”
“It’s alright.”
Toby frowned. “I just thought…it was funny.”
“Mate. It’s alright. But sometimes you have to think how other people feel before opening your mouth. It’s called empathy. Kicks in after adolescence and—” he stopped midsentence.
“You alright?” asked Toby.
“Mmhm,” said Josh quietly, motionless.
“Right,” said Toby. “I’ll be off then.”
Josh looked up, as if from a trance.
“Answer me one thing,” Josh said.
“Mm.”
“Are you too old for a hug?”
“Yeah, piss off,” retorted Toby. “I mean—sorry—”
“Stop apologizing. It’s weird.”
“Right.” After a moment, Toby sauntered out of the room, whistling.
Josh flicked on the television and stared at it.
When the door opened again, he spoke without looking round.
“It’s too late for a hug now,” he said. “Should have had it when it was offered.”
“Thank God for that,” said Pippa.
Josh swung round. “Oh shit,” he said. “I thought you were Toby.”
“No worries,” said Pippa as she came and sat near him. They watched television for a while in silence, Josh seemingly engrossed. Eventually Pippa spoke.
“You like bowls, do you?” she asked.
Josh stared at the screen. “How’s the packing going?”
“Fine.”
“Good.”
“Actually,” said Pippa slowly. “It’s not going as well as it might.”
Josh nodded, eyes still on the screen.
“Between you and me,”
said Pippa slowly, “I think Jo’s very upset to be leaving.”
Josh gave a little shrug and spoke into his chest. “Then she doesn’t need to leave, does she?”
“I think she’s just upset generally, actually.”
“Really?” he turned round. “Worrying about which bloke to dangle on the longest piece of string today?”
“No,” said Pippa. “Just worrying about one bloke.”
Josh turned back to the bowls. “Poor bastard,” he muttered.
“Actually,” muttered Pippa, “this one’s a bit of a dick-head.”
Josh crossed his arm. “Funnily enough that doesn’t narrow it down enough for me. Could be either of them.”
“Who do you mean?”
With a heavy sigh, Josh turned the television to mute. “Well, she obviously can’t decide between the charms of PC Plod and the double-crossing excuses from Ex-Man.”
Pippa let out a sharp laugh. “She’s been trying to get rid of PC Plod since she met him. He just wouldn’t take the hint.”
“That’s not what it looked like from where I was sitting.”
“Well maybe your seats were restricted view,” she shot back, watching the television.
Josh was silent.
“Anyway last night she finally got it through his thick skull. She spent most of the night celebrating. Wow!” she cried at the TV. “That was a good one. It does grow on you, doesn’t it. Bowls?”
“What about Shaun then?” Josh asked in a low voice.
“Oh when he came to see her she wished him and Sheila joy,” she said, eyes still on the telly. “Seems to be completely over him. Says she’d been over him for years—it’s probably why she came to London. She just didn’t know it. Was too scared of hurting him. But that’s our Jo! Too nice for her own good!”
Josh didn’t move.
“Right,” said Pippa. “I’d better get back to it. Poor Jo needs cheering up. She was saying earlier how unbearable it is to be misunderstood and always thought the worst of. Don’t know what she was talking about, but I just know it keeps making her cry. See you!”
And she left the room.
Meanwhile Toby, feeling full of optimism, wanted to share it with his half siblings. He took the stairs three at a time and knocked on Tallulah’s door, where they were having a meeting. They all shouted at him to go away. He opened the door.
“It’s alright!” he said, wandering in and lying on the floor. “It’s only me. Big brother.”
He became aware of an uncomfortable silence.
“What?” he said. “What’s happened?”
“Toby,” said Cassie, cautiously but with a firmness he’d never heard before, “we don’t want you in here with us.”
Toby looked up at her. “It’s alright, Catastrophe,” he said calmly. “I don’t want you in here with me either.
Nobody laughed. Not even Zak.
“No. We mean it,” said Cassie. “This is private.”
Toby looked at Tallulah.
“Come on Lu—”
“It’s Tallulah!”
“Alright, keep your knickers on.”
“My knickers are on! Stop being horrid and just go away.”
Toby stared at her. He stared at Zak.
“Bro,” he said. “C’mon. Me and you against the girls.”
Zak looked down. “I don’t want to be against the girls,” said Zak.
Toby swallowed hard.
“Sorry, Toby,” said Cassie. “We’re all rather busy at the moment.”
“Right,” said Toby nonchalantly. He stood up slowly and walked to the door. “Your loss,” he told them all, and closed the door behind him.
He stood in the dark hall for a few minutes, then suddenly ran down the stairs. He raced past the lounge and straight out into the garden. He didn’t notice Jo, who was sitting on the patio, staring blankly at the trees.
She turned as she heard him. “What’s wrong?” she gasped.
Toby wiped his face angrily. She got up and walked toward him, and, to her astonishment, he ran toward her and hugged her fiercely. She couldn’t imagine what could possibly have happened. He drew away quickly and resumed the angry face wiping.
“Don’t tell anyone I’m crying,” he ordered her gruffly.
“Course not,” she said. “Especially if you say please.”
“Don’t tell Josh,” he squeaked. “Please.”
“Come on,” she whispered. “Let’s walk down to the end. Tell me all about it.”
By the time they got to the bottom of the garden, Toby was sniffing violently and thrusting his hands in his jeans pockets as far as they could go. The image reminded Jo of his big brother.
“What’s up?” asked Jo.
Toby wiped his eyes again. “They hate me,” he squeaked, plonking himself on the lawn.
“Who hates you?”
“The others. Lula, Cassie, Zak.”
“Of course they don’t.”
“They do!” he shouted. ‘They’re having a ‘meeting’ in Tallulah’s room, and they won’t let me in.”
“Toby, all brothers and sisters fight.”
Toby shook his head.
“Sweetheart,” said Jo, “what brought all this on? I didn’t think you really cared about them.”
After he’d stopped crying again, Toby told Jo that he was trying to be nicer to them.
“Why?” asked Jo, as gently as possible.
With immense difficulty, Toby told her that he didn’t hate them anymore. He just didn’t. After a bit more gentle coaxing, he told her that he knew it wasn’t their fault that his dad had left. He told her what Josh had told him about their mum and dad’s divorce. He explained how his mum confessed to intentionally forcing Dick out of their relationship, by nudging him into an affair, then accusing him of betrayal. Jo fell silent.
“I always blamed them for Dad leaving,” said Toby. “That’s why I treated them like shit—sorry—like dirt. But Josh told me it wasn’t their fault, and they never asked to be lumbered with me either.” He started crying again. “So I’ve tried to be nice, but they hate me.”
Jo put her arm round him. “Sweetheart, why aren’t you telling all this to Josh?”
“’Cos he told me this would happen if I wasn’t nicer to them, and I didn’t listen.” He started crying again. “I don’t want to tell him. Please don’t tell him.”
“Oh don’t worry,” she said. “He’s not talking to me.”
“Oh yeah. That’s all my fault, too.”
“Don’t be silly.”
“It is. I said he thought you were a babe.”
“Pardon?”
Toby shook his head. “Everyone hates me.”
“Give it time,” she murmured. “Once they realize that you want to be their friend, they’ll idolize you as their big brother.”
“But I’ve tried.”
“What have you tried?”
“Being nice.”
“Have you tried apologizing?”
There was a pause.
“I can’t,” he squeaked.
“Why not? You’d be surprised how effective it can be.”
Toby stared at the grass.
“Can you imagine how much fun you’ll all have together if they like you?” asked Jo.
Toby managed half a smile.
“Come on,” said Jo, getting up. “There are some choc-ices in the freezer. You can give them all one and then tell them how you feel.” Toby stayed sitting on the grass. “Just be honest,” she said. “It’ll make you feel so much better.”
He grimaced.
“Come on,” she urged.
He shook his head. “I’m scared,” he whispered.
“Of course you are,” said Jo, kneeling beside him. “Otherwise, the apology would be meaningless.”
After a moment’s thought, Toby slowly got up, and they walked thoughtfully back into the house.
When Jo returned to her room, she landed heavily on her bed. Pippa looked up from sorting a b
ox that had found its way into Josh’s room.
“Feeling a bit better?” she asked. She saw Jo’s expression. “Oh dear, what’s up? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
Jo recounted her conversation with Toby, while Pippa sat next to the box, leaning back against Josh’s bed.
After Jo had finished, she seemed to run out of energy. “That explains what Josh said to me,” she said in a monotone, “about how sometimes a woman can push a man into adultery.”
“Yeah, but that’s still no reason to blame all women for men’s affairs,” remarked Pippa, glancing round Josh’s room. “He’s messy isn’t he?”
Jo frowned. “I don’t think he did blame all women. I think he referred to just one man and one woman. He was talking about Dick and Jane, and he knew it was true. And that was when I told him that he disgusted me.”
“You were disgusted because he’s helping his dad have an extramarital affair,” said Pippa, her eyes fixed on some pieces of pink paper by her feet.
“I know, but—”
“But nothing,” said Pippa, idly picking up the pieces of paper. “That’s how you felt, and you had a right to those feelings. He’s got double standards. The man’s a woman hater—it doesn’t matter why.”
“But it explains why he got so annoyed with me so quickly. I must have really hurt him.”
Pippa went silent. After a moment, Jo looked across at her. Pippa was staring, ashen-faced, at two pieces of pink paper.
“What are you looking at?” asked Jo.
“Jo-oh,” said Pippa slowly.
“Yes?”
“Did you say Josh was living here rent-free?”
“Yup. Another reason to hate him. Thank you, I was beginning to forget.”
“And how much is your monthly salary?”
“Why?”
“Just tell me. To the penny.”
“It’s a really weird amount because of my raise,” she explained before giving her exact monthly salary.
Pippa put her hand over her mouth. “Oh dear,” she whispered.
“What?” Jo came over and looked at the pieces of paper. Pippa let her take them out of her hand.
They were receipts, in Dick’s handwriting. They were called “Josh’s rent—May” and next to the amount was the word “Paid.” And the amount was exactly—down to the last penny—the same amount as Jo’s salary.
The Nanny Page 37
