Stand by Your Man
Page 20
‘Oh sweetheart, I’m so glad.’
Marco’s very nice about my deciding to call it a night, and says he’ll see me tomorrow. Em and Luca walk us back to our room, and Luca says he hopes his brother has not been annoying me, and I say no, almost the exact opposite really, which makes him laugh.
I can’t quite work out how I feel about the unexpected kissing thing, but I also can’t work out where I’ve put my toothbrush, so I’m definitely more drunk than I realised.
Alfie wakes up for a brief chat with Nana but soon settles again, and after a few moments of realising that the room is actually whirling around quite a bit when I lie down I fall asleep pretty much instantly too.
The next morning we see Marco on our way to find some breakfast. Alfie’s insisted on bringing Nana, and I’m too hungover to do much about it. Marco’s very charming and says he has to go back to Milan today for business, but maybe we’ll come back for another holiday and he’ll take us out on the little boat again, and I say maybe, and he smiles, and then Alfie starts barking and says Nana is Very Hungry.
Later we see Marco driving off in his car and I feel quite a pang. Part of me would really have loved to have stayed on that terrace. And he was a really great kisser, but that might have been the champagne. Maybe I’ll see him again. Em’s invited us over for Christmas, and you never know.
But then there’s Harry, and I’m feeling a bit guilty about that, because I’d be pretty bloody livid if he announced he’d been kissing some total stranger on a terrace while we’ve been away. Not that we’ve sworn undying devotion or anything, but still.
It’s all a bit confusing, especially with a hangover. And anyway there are more important things to worry about right now. Like how I’m going to get Alfie to stop barking. And how we’re going to fit a massive toy dog on to the plane on the way home.
We spend our last day lazing in the sun and having little swims in the pool until Nana falls in and has to be rinsed out in the shower and then dried in the sun.
Em takes us to the lake in the middle of the island in the afternoon, which is called the Mirror of Venus, and is such a brilliant blue it’s almost unbelievable. It’s like swimming in a warm bath. The sulphurous mud that surrounds it is supposed to be terribly good for you and all round the lake there are little groups of people smothering themselves in it and then lying in the sun to bake. It does make your skin feel wonderful, even if I just know Alfie’s going to try the same thing with the mud in our back garden when we get home.
He’s had such a lovely time here, and even though I’ve been smothering him in Factor 200 he’s starting to go a lovely golden colour already. Maybe we should come back at Christmas, or maybe next Easter when Em says the island is covered in flowers and the weather is starting to warm up. Or maybe we should just stop here and Alfie can learn Italian and I can buy our sausages from the twin butchers, and learn how to build domed houses.
The journey home is really exhausting, partly because the flight from Sicily is delayed so we have to spend four hours trying to amuse ourselves in Palermo airport, which isn’t easy, but mainly because I don’t really want to go home. It’s been so lovely spending time with Em, and the island’s so beautiful.
But Alfie’s glad to be back, and watches his video of Peter Pan surrounded by all his toys, in celebration.
The garden has gone completely rampant while we’ve been away, and Charles and Lola are away at a villa in France, so Molly and I try to do our bit in the new garden too so Mr Channing and Frank don’t end up doing it all.
We spend nearly a whole morning weeding, and I tell Molly all about Italy, and she says it sounds fantastic and she wishes she had a friend who lived somewhere lovely like that.
She thinks that Marco sounds lovely too and says that although kissing total strangers on holiday is not technically perfect behaviour, it’s not like Harry ever needs to know, and anyway it was only a kiss.
And then we talk about taking Alfie and Lily into school, for their visit to the reception class to prepare them for starting school in September: Alfie’s determined to take Nana with him, and Lily says she might go, but only to have a look because she hasn’t made her mind up yet.
‘I can’t really believe they’re starting school, you know. They seem too little.’
‘I know. I’ve been trying to teach Lily to put her shoes on herself, but she just won’t do it. Although she sometimes does it for Dan.’
‘I’ve got Velcro ones for Alfie – he’d never manage with laces. What time are we supposed to take them in?’
‘Half-past one, and then there’s a meeting in the hall at two-thirty when they’ll be selling the school sweatshirts and stuff.’
‘I hope they like it. God, wouldn’t it be awful if they come and say they hate it and they’re not going back.’
‘Yes, but we’ve got the whole summer to work on them. Janice is already knitting Lily a school jumper, by the way, and she says she’ll do one for Alfie too, if you like.’
‘Oh dear.’
‘I know. I’ve told her they wear sweatshirts, but she’s got the wool and everything. At least she can’t do it in pink. She says she’s going to make it a bit big, so it’ll last.’
‘Oh great. Nice long arms she can roll up.’
‘Oh stop it – I don’t want to think about it. Tell me more about Italy.’
‘Well, there’s not much more to tell.’
‘Have you seen Harry since you’ve been back?’
‘Not yet. He’s coming round later, actually.’
‘Did you miss him?’
‘Not really. I can’t work out if I’m just a bit more relaxed than I used to be, or if it means I don’t really care about him.’
‘I think it all changes when you have kids, you know. I was thinking about it the other day. You sort of get to a point where you’re pretty settled and not much is going to shake you to the core. Well, not a man anyway. I mean obviously I’d be devastated if something happened to Dan, but if we’re bickering, or he’s a bit off for a while, it doesn’t seem like the most important thing in the world any more. It just feels like it’s part of the deal, and there’s no point getting too wound up by it.’
‘Yes, I think you might be right. Maybe we’ve grown up. God, that’s a bit scary, isn’t it? We’re the big girls now.’
‘Yes. And some of us are bigger than others at the moment.’
Lola rings in the afternoon and says she hates France.
‘It’s full of bloody British people traipsing round in their sandals whining about how all the prices have gone up. Jesus. There’s nobody interesting, and the kids are driving me mad. France is definitely off the list now – everyone’s going somewhere else. Ezra keeps falling in the bloody swimming pool, and the au pair we’ve hired has taken a fancy to a waiter in the local pizza place and keeps disappearing. And Mabel’s got some hideous heat rash so she looks appalling. We’ve bought her some stuff from the local pharmacy and it smells disgusting. She looks like she’s got the plague. Honestly, I’ve got a good mind to leave them all to it and check into a hotel somewhere. Charles seems perfectly happy to spend hours with the children, doing absolutely nothing. It’s so boring.’
‘Is the weather nice?’
‘No. It’s fucking boiling. The locals keep saying it’s the worst summer they can remember.’
‘What a shame. Still, at least you’ve got away – change of scenery and all that.’
‘Oh yes, it’s a change all right. I’m going to need another holiday to get over it when I get back. Actually, that’s why I’m ringing. Do you fancy coming to a health farm with me or something? There’s a new one that’s getting great reviews.’
‘I’d love to, Lola, but money’s a bit tight at the moment, what with going to Italy and everything, and I’m a bit pushed at work.’
‘Oh. Well, think about it, and let me know, I’m on the mobile.’
Bloody hell. I’m very glad I’m not in France at the moment.
‘I can’t remember much about mine. We were packed off pretty early, and it’s all a bit of a blur. I hated the first few days every time. I used to be sick, every morning. I can remember the feeling, waiting for the train. It was awful. I’m sure he’ll be fine.’
‘I suppose so.’
‘I mean you’ll be there, won’t you, to collect him every afternoon?’
‘Oh yes, or Mum, but it’ll still be a long day for him. I mean the afternoon is only a trial, to get them used to the idea, but I really hope he doesn’t hate it.’
‘Yes, but at least he gets to come home.’
I can’t help feeling slightly narked that he seems to think that because Alfie’s not being sent off to boarding school he’ll be fine. I suppose if I’d been sent off when I was tiny I’d probably think the first day at a local village primary wasn’t much of a challenge, but it still feels like a fairly big deal to me. I try to explain this but it all ends up getting rather tense.
‘What’s the matter? You’re building up to something, I can feel it. You’ve been funny ever since I arrived. Are we going to have A Talk? The one where you say you want a commitment and I say I like things the way they are?’
Bloody cheek.
‘Not necessarily. I might say I want to slow things down a bit.’
‘Oh. Right. And do you?’
‘No, but now you mention it, it might be nice if we talked about things more.’
‘Like what?’
‘Oh I don’t know, anything.’
‘Look, can’t we just leave it? I mean we have fun, don’t we?’
‘Yes. But what if I want more than fun? I mean, I don’t know, say I wanted another baby or something.’
I don’t really know why I’ve said this. I don’t want another baby. Well, definitely not at the moment and definitely not with Harry. But for some reason I want to see his reaction. He looks pretty horrified.
‘Hang on a minute. We didn’t say anything about babies.’
‘I know we didn’t, of course, but shouldn’t we be able to talk about things like that?’
‘I suppose so. I mean I don’t mind Alfie, of course, but I really don’t want one of my own. I’m not ready for anything that serious, not yet. I don’t know if I ever will be, to be honest.’
‘Oh.’
‘Is that a problem then?’
‘It’s just I think maybe being away has made me realise I want a bit more than that. Not just a sort of regular fling, no strings attached.’
‘Damn.’
‘I know.’
‘I’m not sure I’m up for that.’
‘I know that, Harry, and I’m sorry, I really am.’
‘Oh well. Maybe we’ve just run our course, or whatever it is they say.’
‘Yes.’
‘Should I go now then?’
‘I suppose so.’
I really don’t want him to go. But somehow I don’t really want him to stay either.
He gets up and walks towards the door.
‘I’m sorry, Harry.’
‘Me, too.’
Damn. I really didn’t mean that to happen. Not that it’s not true, but I just hadn’t realised I’d made up my mind until we started talking about it. Bugger. I’m really going to miss him. Double bugger.
I ring Molly who comes round with emergency chocolate.
‘I bet he’ll call you.’
‘Maybe, but we didn’t have a fight or anything. We sort of agreed, so I don’t think he will. Being in Italy and seeing Em and Luca made me think, and I really don’t want to settle for a Mr In Between any more, someone with potential, who with lots of work might turn into something wonderful. I get enough bloody conversions at work. It’s got to be a brief bit of passion that doesn’t pretend to be anything else, or it’s got to be the real thing. Someone who’ll love Alfie almost as much as I do, not just put up with him as part of the package. Mr In the Middle just doesn’t do it for me any more.’
‘Well, good for you. I think you’re absolutely right. Do you want a Flake, or a Crunchie?’
8
August
Mad Dogs and Englishmen
Garden Diary
Pick herbs to dry and store in airtight containers. Order bulbs for spring. Fertilise roses before autumn. Water lawns and flowerbeds in hot weather, making sure to water thoroughly and deeply. Maintain weeding regime.
The weather turns boiling hot so I buy a plastic sandpit for Alfie and a few bags of play sand. He plays in it quite happily for about five minutes while I’m trying to pick herbs, and then spreads the sand all over the lawn. I try to stop him but end up tripping over a bag of sand and falling flat on my face into the herb bed. The smell is wonderful and I lie there for a bit slightly stunned, hoping that nothing is going to be hanging off at a funny angle when I get up. Alfie thinks I’m playing, and leaps on top of me. The fennel gets bent and the mint’s rather flattened but once I’ve trimmed off the worst bits it all looks OK, and I end up with a huge pile of herbs to hang up to dry in bundles round the kitchen. Feel very virtuous, like a good countrywoman laying down stores for the winter. Even if I can’t actually remember what they’re called, I bet they’ll add interesting flavours to soups. Although technically Alfie won’t eat soup, but maybe I could pretend it’s some sort of sauce.
Molly and I are planning a day out at London Zoo with the kids, even though Molly’s definitely at the heavily pregnant waddling stage now.
‘I can’t even fit in the bath any more. I can get in, but it’s pretty tricky getting out, and I can’t sleep in this heat.’
‘Neither can I. Have you had any more arguments about cereal?’
Molly and Dan had a rather ferocious argument yesterday about the right way to open a packet of Shreddies.
‘No, but we’ve made up, sort of. I apologised last night and he watched a Bruce Willis film, to make sure I understood I was still on probation, and I didn’t say anything. I just tried to do my knitting for the baby, but that’s driving me round the bend too – it’s gone all circular. Maybe I could make a cape?’
‘That’s a good idea. I bet all the really trendy babies are wearing capes. Look, are you sure you fancy this zoo thing?’
‘I’ve got six weeks to go yet. What could happen?’
‘You could go into labour while we’re on the train or something. That’s what could bloody happen. I’m not terribly good at being calm in a crisis. You might as well know that right now.’
‘Oh don’t worry. I’ve got a feeling it’s going to be late, just like Lily.’
‘Well, I hope you’re right. Because I don’t fancy appearing on the six o’clock news, helping you give birth surrounded by lions and penguins.’
The zoo’s full of shrieking kids and animals, and Alfie’s wearing his new safari hat and baggy shorts, which make him look like he’s about to appear in a Morecambe and Wise sketch.
Within twenty minutes of our arriving I suddenly realise we’ve lost him: one minute he was there, and the next minute there’s this Alfie-shaped hole where I think he should be standing, and the air’s sort of shimmering. I want to start looking under seats and behind bushes as if he might have mysteriously shrunk or something: if I pretend that I can still see him then maybe he can’t really be lost. He’s only been gone for a minute and I’m already cracking up.
Just as I’m about to get completely hysterical I catch a glimpse of him, standing down the side of one of the cages talking to a malevolent-looking eagle through the bars. I can’t decide whether to cuddle him or go berserk so I do a bit of both, and Molly has to sit down because she’s pretty close to tears too. He promises never ever to wander off again, and I hold his hand, much to his annoyance, and try to calm down, which isn’t easy;
but short of tying them on a long bit of rope I can’t see what else you’re supposed to do, except blame yourself for eternity if they do manage to give you the slip.
We have lunch in the café, which costs a fortune, and the weather has gone all stormy and humid so everyone’s grumpy. Lily drops her sandwich on the floor and shrieks until Molly gives her most of hers, and then Alfie decides he needs another bag of crisps and will whine until he gets one. I tell him he won’t ever have crisps again, ever, if he doesn’t stop it, and he starts to cry, and a woman at the next table, who has two perfectly behaved children with her, gives me a horrible superior look.
I distract Alfie with the promise of ice cream if he packs it in, and then one of her kids squirts juice in the other one’s face and they both start kicking, and I try to give her exactly the kind of look she gave me.
We do the penguins and seals after lunch, and the children’s zoo, which isn’t nearly so much fun now you’re not allowed to molest the animals, but Alfie still manages to get chased by a goat, and nearly loses his new hat, and then we have a drama in the gift shop and practically have to call for armed assistance to get them both out without giant pandas. Whichever bright spark decided to stock the gift shop with giant stuffed animals deserves a really big slap.
The train home is late and filthy and Alfie invents a new song which consists of singing a selection of his favourite rude words quite loudly. We try ignoring him, but there’s only so long you can ignore someone repeatedly singing ‘Bum willy Bum’ on a rush-hour train. I try a bit of threatening, but he’s beyond caring, and then Molly summons up the energy from somewhere to tell them a story, and they turn into little angels who take it in turns to add unusual twists like great white sharks suddenly appearing in people’s baths. It constantly amazes me how quickly children can change. One minute you want to throttle them and then suddenly they go all sweet.
I’ve left my car at the station and while I’m driving us home I offer to make supper, to give Molly a rest.