Saul and Katie waved to one another as Jodi jumped into the Mini and drove like a bat out of hell, cursing under her breath. She was reaching a point of no return with Cameron. He was far too rough for his own good.
Parenting was tricky. But Jodi was starting to wonder if it was the mothers rather than the offspring who were the most difficult. One minute Francine seemed to want to be her friend and the next she was behaving erratically. Jodi knew Darius had had a point when he’d told her she was far too uncommunicative with others. She knew she needed to broaden her horizons, get out and make new friends. But each time she did, she got burned.
As she pulled up outside the cottage, Jodi felt like taking Saul inside, locking the door and never coming out again.
Chapter 14
Francine felt as if she was going to vomit. Her stomach was knotted and she could barely focus on drinking her coffee. She had been traumatised enough by having to tell the ladies she was now unemployed but Cameron had made things so much worse. Her plan had been to tell Jane – after all, telling Jane was like putting an advert in the local paper. Then her new status would filter through the community and she could pretend it had been her own choice. But it had gone horribly wrong.
Now she wanted to drag Cameron out of the café. But the place was packed and there were too many people she knew. One of the mothers from Conor’s class had popped over seconds after Jodi had fled and asked if she could join her. Thankfully, she’d missed the awful scene between Cameron and Saul. Francine didn’t doubt that some busybody would fill her in at a later stage, but for now the woman was a very welcome distraction.
‘It’s lovely to see you. How are you?’ Francine said, clicking into hostess-with-the-mostest mode.
‘Oh, not too bad. I thought I’d treat myself to a cappuccino and a sticky bun before I head up to the school and collect the troops.’
‘Yes, you’re dead right. Sometimes we mums just need a little treat!’ Francine said, with forced cheer.
‘I couldn’t help but notice Jodi Ludlum getting into her car just now. I believe she has a son in the kindergarten this year. Have you met her at all?’
‘As a matter of fact we’re becoming firm friends,’ Francine said. ‘She’s such a lovely person. Once you get to know her you forget she’s a movie star. She’s just a mum, like you and me.’
‘Well, hardly,’ the woman said. ‘She’s so pretty, isn’t she? Gosh, I couldn’t believe it when I heard she was living in Bakers Valley. I’m a massive fan – I don’t suppose you’d introduce me to her at the Hallowe’en party, would you? Or would that seem too groupie of me?’
‘Of course I will, sweetie. She’d love to meet you. Come and find me on Friday and give me the nod,’ Francine promised. ‘You know me, I’ll be flitting around doing my bits and bobs but if you remind me I’ll make sure you meet her properly.’
‘Ooh, I’m so excited! Thanks, Francine! I hope you don’t think I’m a total muppet asking you!’
‘Not at all. Before we were friends I was in awe of Jodi too!’ Francine confided. ‘Not that I don’t still think she’s very special – obviously she is – but I guess once you know someone well they’re just the same as everyone else.’
To Francine’s relief, Cameron was busy playing under the table with a Power Ranger figure he’d found in her bag so she hadn’t had to scold him or betray how sick she was feeling after what had just happened. ‘Jeepers! Look at the time! We’d better get back up to the school and collect the children,’ she said. ‘Come along, Cameron, there’s a good boy.’
‘He’s as good as gold, isn’t he, bless him?’ the other lady said. ‘They’re lovely at that age. Content to play with a little toy! Gone are the days when my lot would be happy to do the same.’
‘Er, yes,’ Francine said uneasily. ‘He’s a great lad.’
‘See you at school, no doubt,’ the other woman said.
‘Bye-bye, take care!’ Francine said, waving as sweetly as a 1970s air hostess.
Cameron dashed over to the car as Francine clicked the doors open with the remote control. Clipping himself into his booster seat, he continued to play with his toy and began to kick the back of her seat.
‘Stop kicking me, please, Cameron,’ she said.
‘No,’ he answered, and kicked harder.
‘I’ve asked you to stop it!’ she almost shouted.
Turning to look between the two front seats, she tried to make eye contact with him. ‘Why are you deliberately trying to annoy me?’ she asked.
He stuck out his tongue at her and returned to his Power Ranger.
‘Why did you knock Saul off his chair earlier?’ she asked.
Cameron ignored her.
‘Cameron!’ she yelled. ‘Why did you hurt Saul?’
The small boy continued to make sound effects. He turned the little Power Ranger upside down and made him jump on to the back of the driver’s seat.
Francine snatched the toy and threw it on the floor in the front of the car.
‘Hey!’ Cameron shouted.
‘Answer me when I speak to you!’ Francine shrieked. ‘Why did you hurt Saul?’
‘I didn’t.’ Cameron pouted, folded his arms and glued his eyes shut.
Francine was so incensed she actually thought she was going to have a heart attack. She faced the steering wheel and started the ignition. That was it. The final straw. She couldn’t take another incident with Cameron. She was going to talk to Carl that evening and beg him to find help for their son. After the episode with Mr Brady, he had convinced her that little boys often did things like that. ‘He’s a bit wilder than the others but he’s the youngest of four, darling. He sees and hears everything. He’s around older kids,’ Carl reasoned. ‘He’s bound to end up a bit more flighty than Cara or Conor.’
Francine had desperately wanted him to be right. But she’d known deep down that there was something different about the way Cameron behaved.
Now things had reached the point at which she couldn’t take Cameron anywhere without him causing a scene. The other children were beginning to dread him too. No matter how pushy she was, most of the mothers simply wouldn’t let their children go to her house.
Something had to give.
Mr Matthews couldn’t be wrong all the time either. He’d suggested to Francine weeks ago that they have Cameron assessed. But that had seemed so over the top at the time.
‘He’s just the youngest of four and flexing his muscles,’ Francine had said, quoting Carl.
She’d thought that if she was cheerful and pleasant all the time, Cameron would follow suit and the other mothers wouldn’t glower at him so much. She’d taken to avoiding everyone, including poor Jodi. She felt like a heel for not speaking to her. She was certain Jodi Ludlum thought she was a raving lunatic. One minute Francine had been clamouring to be her best buddy and the next she was diving into bushes to avoid her.
She’d tried everything she could think of to get through to Cameron but nothing had worked. She’d phoned Annie to apologise and asked her how she’d managed to keep him in line.
‘I didn’t, Francine. That was my point all along. Why do you think I’d phone you in work and ask you to bring home milk? I couldn’t face bringing Cameron as far as Spar, let alone to the supermarket.’
Francine felt as if she was in prison.
Shouting at Cameron made no difference.
If she sent him to his bedroom, he trashed it. If she made him sit on time out at the bottom of the stairs, like Supernanny on the television, he’d simply scale the front door and run out on the road.
Things were out of control, and Francine had to admit to herself that she was struggling.
She was desperately sad for Cameron as he was clearly having a difficult time, but his behaviour had to be addressed.
Francine couldn’t enjoy village and school life now: people stared at her as if she were a criminal. It was awful to realise her friends were running away from her and Cameron as if they carried a
contagious disease.
She went to fetch Cara, Craig and Conor that day without stopping to chat to the other mothers. Instead she kept a firm grip on Cameron’s hand and marched him at high speed to the collection area.
‘I want to climb the tree! Some of my friends are there,’ he protested.
Still smiling, Francine bent down and whispered in his ear, ‘Don’t think of causing another scene. You’re coming home with me straight away. You’ve been far too naughty already today so don’t push me any further.’
The searing pain that shot up her arm from Cameron’s savage bite made Francine cry out. The child broke free and scrambled up the tree, stepping on little Max’s fingers.
Max burst into tears.
‘I’m the king of the castle – na na na-na na!’ Cameron shouted triumphantly.
Francine fought back tears as she hid her hand, which showed clear toothmarks and was already bruised and throbbing. ‘Come down now, boys,’ she called. ‘It’s cold and slippy up there!’
Dee, Max’s mother, ran over and took her sobbing child into her arms. ‘What happened, darling?’
‘Cameron stamped on my hands by purpose and my fingers are all squashed and sore!’
‘That wasn’t very nice,’ Dee said, with a furrowed brow. ‘Poor you. Let me have a look.’
Some of the other parents had stopped to see what all the commotion was about.
‘Cameron, down you come, there’s a good boy,’ Francine said sweetly. ‘You seem to have hurt Max by mistake. Let’s say sorry to him and tell him you didn’t mean it.’ She kept her voice as even as she could.
‘No! I’m staying here.’
‘Cameron, please!’ Francine’s voice cracked. She was beginning to lose it.
‘No.’
‘Come on, Max, let’s get you home,’ Dee said.
‘Wait a moment! Cameron wants to shake hands and say sorry,’ Francine cried.
‘No way!’ he shouted, from the top of the tree.
‘Forget it,’ Dee said, without hiding her annoyance she was usually mild-mannered. ‘Some kids need a good telling-off in my opinion.’ Flushed and upset, she fled with Max and his older sister.
Francine’s head was spinning with embarrassment and humiliation. ‘Cameron, I’m going home now. If you don’t come down this instant, you’ll be left up that tree all by yourself for the night,’ she warned.
The threat of spending the night at school was enough to make him clamber down. From a dangerous height, he launched himself towards the grass.
Francine lurched forward to see if he was all right. ‘You’ll hurt yourself doing that!’ He jumped up and scurried towards their car.
Cara, Conor and Craig were already ensconced in it, waiting to go home.
‘Did you see me jump?’ Cameron said proudly.
‘You could’ve killed yourself,’ Francine said, as she started the car. All she wanted was to get the hell out of the school car park. She knew she’d have to call Max’s mother later and apologise.
Her panic was all-encompassing. The three older children chattered about their day and Francine nodded numbly.
At home, the older children, used to the after-school routine, found themselves a snack and got started on their homework.
‘I’ve only these five spellings and reading out loud to do,’ Craig said. He’d watched his older brother and sister doing homework for years and was delighted he’d had some of his own since September.
‘I’ll help you now,’ Francine promised. She’d spent the few minutes since they’d returned wondering miserably how she could pull herself through the next few years with Cameron.
‘Mum?’ Craig prompted, when she didn’t move.
‘Sorry?’ She sighed. ‘Oh, yes, love. Let’s get your learning sorted. Come on, we’ll go into my office. Cameron, why don’t you look at a picture book while we’re doing Craig’s reading?’ Francine suggested.
‘No way. I hate books more than dog poo,’ he said loudly.
Unable to come up with an alternative suggestion, Francine broke her no-computer-games-during-the-week rule. ‘You can go on the PlayStation for a while,’ she said.
Within minutes there was calm and silence. Cameron lost himself in the game, and she watched from the playroom door as he wriggled around on the beanbag to get comfy.
‘I thought we weren’t allowed PlayStation on school nights,’ Conor said, appearing from his room.
‘I’m making an exception tonight. You can all have half an hour each as a treat once homework is done,’ Francine said, not wanting a fresh row.
‘Cha-ching!’ Conor said, balling his fist and pulling his arm down in triumph.
‘Me, too?’ Craig asked hopefully.
‘Yes, you, too,’ Francine said, rubbing her temples. ‘Maybe yourself and Conor could play WWE against each other in a while. Let’s get this reading and spelling done quickly.’
As Craig read from his English book, Francine’s mind was whirring. The child could have been skipping words, mispronouncing others and telling her about a brutal murder and she wouldn’t have noticed.
‘Was that good, Mum? Mum?’ Craig tapped her on the arm.
‘Oh, sorry, love. That was brilliant. You’re a great reader, do you know that?’ She smiled, feeling guilty that she hadn’t been paying attention. ‘Now, once your spellings are learned, you’re all done and dusted!’
Craig scribbled each word down without getting a single one wrong.
‘Good lad,’ she said, stroking his hair. ‘Your teacher will have nothing but great reports for me when the parent-teacher meetings come around.’
‘I’ll put my things in my bag and see where the wrestling game is!’ he said, thrilled with the idea.
‘Okay, but leave Cameron a little while longer. He hasn’t had his half-hour yet,’ she warned.
The second her son left the room Francine fired up her computer and typed ‘child assessment’ into Google. Half an hour later, having surfed the net, Francine had narrowed the search down to a clinic about twenty minutes away. That would be fine. At that distance she wouldn’t bump into anyone she knew.
Her hands shook as she dialled the number.
‘Good afternoon, Nuala speaking, how may I help you?’ The voice was so warm and friendly.
The anonymity the telephone afforded her allowed Francine to describe honestly the nightmare that had taken over their lives. ‘I don’t know what to do next …I need help,’ she whispered.
‘I understand,’ Nuala said calmly. ‘I’d like to meet with yourself, your husband and Cameron.’
‘When?’ Francine’s voice wobbled. ‘I haven’t run this past Carl and we always discuss everything, so I hope he’ll agree, but I need your advice.’
‘I can hear that. I have an appointment available tomorrow morning. I could put you down for that. If Carl doesn’t want to go ahead, you can phone and leave a message this evening. The answer machine will be switched on. How’s that?’
Relief flooded Francine. No matter what happened from here on in, it had to be better than the knife’s-edge existence they’d all been experiencing of late.
None of this was part of the plan that she and Carl had worked out so carefully. They’d known exactly how their life would pan out. Or, at least, they’d thought they did.
Francine was certain that all they needed now was to see Nuala and follow some pointers. Then, with a bit of hard work – they weren’t shy of that in their house – life could get back to normal. Francine could concentrate on the committee and the lovely parts of school life once more. She’d already decided she was going to look for another job after Christmas. She had a niggling feeling this had escalated because she was hanging around at a loose end.
Meanwhile, nobody need know the details of what was going awry. This time next year she and Carl could share a bottle of red wine while chatting about that little spat with Cameron.
More optimistic than she had been for quite a while, Francine hummed a
s she made dinner.
There was a bit of a row as Cameron was told to give his brothers a turn on the PlayStation, but she’d allowed him to go into the living room and have control of the big television instead. Until she knew how to deal with Cameron’s temper, she needed to keep things calm.
When she heard the front door open and Carl calling that he was home, Francine rushed to greet him. ‘Hi, love! Good day?’ she asked.
‘Not bad. You?’
‘Well … mixed. Come into the office for a minute, will you? I want to tell you something,’ she said, slightly nervous of his reaction.
She began with the misdemeanours of that day and how awful it had been both for herself and the children Cameron had hurt. She confessed to Carl that she’d been getting more and more worried about Cameron’s behaviour and had finally called Nuala as a last resort.
‘You’ve made an appointment with a child psychologist?’ Carl was furious. ‘I still think you’re overreacting. But, more than that, we should’ve discussed it.’
‘I know you hate rash decisions, Carl. I do too, but I was at breaking point earlier,’ Francine said, wringing her hands. ‘I didn’t know how to fix our son. He was violent and behaving like a thug.’ She shuddered at the memory.
‘If you say so,’ Carl said.
‘You don’t believe me, do you?’ Francine turned on her husband. ‘Carl, why would I lie about such a thing? I can’t begin to tell you how awful it’s been for me. Nobody wants their children playing with Cameron! I used to have a carload of little ones leaving that kindergarten when our older ones were there. Now people shy away from us as if we’re diseased.’
‘Ah, steady on, love. I can’t imagine they feel that strongly,’ Carl said, looking uncomfortable. Francine and he were like-minded in their views on socialising and their reputation within the community. He loved to present his colleagues with cakes and scones on random Fridays. He looked forward to the Hallowe’en party at the school. The Christmas ball was one of the highlights of his year, along with his own work do. He couldn’t bear the thought of going to any of those events if people were avoiding them.
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