‘Okay,’ he said, looking surprised. ‘I’ll pick you up Sunday morning.’
‘Fabulous,’ I said, my heart lifting for the first time all week. I couldn’t wait to spend the day with him and his two darling children. I wondered what they were like. At that age they’d still be at primary school, unspoilt for sure, unlike the moment they went to secondary school and morphed into prepubescents exchanging ankle socks and sweetness for Doc Martens and Attitude with a capital A.
Needless to say, the meeting with Nick’s daughters was an unmitigated disaster.
Forty
When Nick turned up at my parents’ house at nine on Sunday morning with two squabbling children in the back of his car, my mother’s eyeballs were on stalks.
‘Married with children?’ she asked.
‘Separated with children,’ I crisply retorted.
‘And you’re about to jump in feet first and play happy families, right?’
‘I’m going to Legoland,’ I said through slightly gritted teeth. ‘I’ve been invited along to have some much-needed fun.’
‘Ah yes, L-e-g-o-land,’ said Mum, scratching her chin in a parody of contemplation, ‘the place where every grown-up goes to let off steam. Correct me if I’m wrong, Hattie, but I could have sworn that adults went to Chessington or Thorpe Park, which isn’t, after all, a million miles away.’
‘There are height restrictions at Chessington and Thorpe Park. You can’t take two little girls to theme parks like that, can you?’ I retorted.
‘Indeed you can’t,’ said Mum, ‘so I rather suspect this trip is about his daughters, not you. Instead you’ll be going along as an unpaid nanny, taking his girls to the loo, assisting with pants and tights, and buckling up their shoes.’
‘Lucinda and Charlotte are eight and ten, Mum. Not two and four. I don’t know anything about kids, but I’m pretty sure they are past the potty-training stage and are able to use a toilet unaided.’
‘Hmm,’ said my mother, sceptically, ‘well I hope you know what you’re letting yourself in for. Oh look, the great man himself is getting out of the car. Probably to give his ears a couple of minutes’ respite from the din those kids are making.’
Nick was now walking up the garden path. He did look slightly frazzled and was repeatedly raking one hand through his hair, as if already weary. Behind him, the car was now rocking as the girls thumped each other. Good heavens, and I’d thought it was only little boys who resorted to fisticuffs. I noticed that Nick’s crumpet-catcher sports car had been replaced with something more sober for today’s outing. This must be a spare vehicle kept for such occasions. It was an old Citroen Picasso, its roomy boot stuffed with children’s paraphernalia. Two pink bicycles dangled off a metal contraption at the rear of the vehicle.
‘Hi!’ said Nick, as Mum opened the front door. Gordon Bennett, why was she hanging around? ‘You must be Hattie’s sister?’
Mum melted quicker than an ice-cube in a microwave. ‘You’re not the first person to think that,’ she cooed.
‘This is my mother,’ I said to Nick.
‘Nick,’ he replied, shaking her hand.
‘You may call me Penny,’ said Mum.
‘Well he’s hardly going to call you Mum, is he?’ I muttered under my breath.
‘Hattie’s told us so much about you,’ said Mum, ignoring me and turning on the charm. ‘And those must be your two dear little girls?’ She nodded towards the rocking car.
‘Yes,’ said Nick, as the car alarm began shrieking from all the hoo-ha coming from within.
‘Aren’t they just darling?’ said Mum, over the din, as net curtains the length of the road began to violently twitch.
‘Shall we get a wiggle on, Hattie?’ asked Nick, trying not to look harassed. ‘Are you not taking a coat?’
‘No, it’s a decent enough day. I’ll be fine with this hoodie.’
‘Right, lovely to meet you, Penny,’ said Nick, already backing away, visibly psyching himself up to return to the racket within his car.
‘Have a great time!’ my mother called to his retreating back. I shoved my feet into some trainers and made to go after Nick, but Mum’s hand caught my wrist in a vice-like grip. ‘Do you have any headache pills?’ she hissed.
‘No. If you need some, I think there’s a packet in the bathroom cabinet.’
‘Oh they’re not for me,’ she said, eyes wide and feigning innocence. ‘I’m thinking of you. Believe me, you’re going to need them before the day is out.’
I tutted crossly. ‘Don’t be ridiculous. They’re just little children.’
‘No, they’re not,’ said my mother, eyes narrowing at the girls still fighting within the car.
‘What are they then?’ I asked sarcastically. ‘Monsters? The devil’s offspring? Evil itself dressed in pink with pigtails?’
Mum gave a tinkle of laughter. ‘No, darling. I do believe the terminology is much simpler and something a seasoned mother like myself can spot at two paces.’
‘Oh?’
‘Otherwise known as “spoilt brats”.’
‘Goodbye, Mum. I’m not sure when I’ll be home.’
‘See you later, Hattie,’ said Mum cheerfully, ‘I would say have fun, but I know you won’t.’
As I marched defiantly towards Nick’s car, I wished that sometimes my mother didn’t have the propensity to always be right.
Forty-One
‘Girls, girls,’ said Nick, as I slid into the passenger seat next to him. ‘Settle down and say hi to Hattie.’ He glanced across at me. ‘Charlotte is on the left, and Lucinda is sitting behind you.’
‘Hello there!’ I said, in my best Five Have a Wonderful Time voice, although I had a sneaking suspicion these children had never read an Enid Blyton book in their lives. As I swivelled round to face them, I saw they both had iPads in their laps and iPhones on the seat space between them. Definitely not book readers. They stared at me with furious blue eyes, their mouths set in a mutinous line. Where had I seen those expressions before? Ah yes. Mum and Dad. Both of them had looked exactly like this after witnessing Nick kiss me in the hallway last Monday evening. Well, wasn’t I just flavour of the month right now! I gave both children a winning smile which was met with scowls. They were incredibly alike, and if it hadn’t been for an obvious height difference in the shoulders, could have been mistaken for twins. ‘My goodness,’ I chirped, ‘aren’t you both beautiful young ladies.’ My pathetic attempt to charm was met with identical withering looks. Silently, they turned their attention to their iPads. ‘Well,’ I said, to no one in particular, ‘I think this is going to be a splendid day.’
In no time at all we were on the M25, but half an hour later we were at a standstill.
‘Are we nearly there yet?’ asked Charlotte.
‘No, unfortunately not,’ said Nick, drumming his fingers on the steering wheel. ‘What on earth has happened?’ He turned on the radio, pressing buttons in search of a traffic update.
‘I need a wee,’ said Lucinda.
‘You’ll have to hold on until we get to Services.’
‘What’s Services?’ asked Charlotte.
‘It’s where the toilets are,’ I said helpfully.
‘I wasn’t talking to you,’ said Charlotte rudely, ‘I was talking to Daddy.’
Right. That put me in my place.
‘Ah, here we are,’ said Nick, listening intently to the traffic update. ‘Oh no. A ten-mile tailback due to an accident.’
‘I’ll have an accident if I don’t have a wee in a minute,’ said Lucinda.
‘There’s a grassy bank over there,’ I said pointing, ‘and some trees to hide behind. Do you want me to take you over there?’
Lucinda stared at me as if I’d just suggested dancing naked in the moonlight. ‘I’m not weeing in front of all these people,’ she said, one arm making a sweeping gesture at the motionless traffic all around us.
‘You wouldn’t have to,’ I said, making my voice placatory, ‘the trees will shield yo
u and I can stand in front of you. No one will see.’
‘There’s no toilet paper,’ she said, jaw jutting out.
‘I have a tissue,’ I replied, burrowing up my sleeve for my one sheet of Kleenex I’d hurriedly stuffed up my arm earlier on.
‘Ewww, I don’t want your tissue,’ said Lucinda, ‘it will be full of bogies.’
‘Ohhh, you just said bogies,’ said Charlotte. ‘Mummy said that’s a bad word.’
‘The tissue is clean,’ I assured her, ‘and you’re very welcome to it.’
‘No thanks,’ said Lucinda, ‘I’ll just have to wet myself.’
‘Oh come on,’ said Nick in exasperation. ‘Sorry, but I’m not sitting in this.’ Suddenly he was manoeuvring the car, darting and squeezing the vehicle through gaps until we were driving on the hard shoulder.
‘Er, Nick, I’m not sure you’re allowed to—’
‘There’s no traffic cameras on this stretch,’ said Nick, ‘and if a cop car comes along I’ll say it was an emergency and my daughter needed to pee.’
‘Um, right,’ I said, as we shot up the hard shoulder, a torrent of horns blasting in our wake.
‘Police cars are allowed to do this,’ said Charlotte, bouncing around with excitement. ‘Let’s pretend we’re a police car, Luce,’ she nudged her sister. Suddenly the back window was buzzed down and both girls were emitting ear-piercing wails, emulating a speeding patrol vehicle. The noise went right through my head, and I was suddenly reminded of my mother asking if I had headache tablets on me.
Forty-Two
We arrived at Legoland two hours later than planned. Nick hadn’t been in the best of tempers to find, when we had finally got off the hard shoulder, that the Services had been closed for refurbishment. Lucinda, despite threatening to wet herself every thirty seconds, held on until Nick paid for the Legoland entrance tickets which were… how much? Good heavens, since when did a family day out cost so much? And we hadn’t even stopped for lunch yet. Both children clamoured to get on their bicycles after Charlotte haughtily informed me she never walked anywhere, and most definitely not around a theme park.
‘Oh look,’ I called, just as both girls were about to pedal off, ‘there’s a toilet. Would you like me to take you?’
Lucinda screwed up her face in rage and yelled, ‘We’re not babies, you know, and anyway, I don’t need the toilet any more.’
‘Are you sure?’ I asked, bemused at how a child’s bladder could one moment feel as though it was going to burst and the next, seemingly stretch to the size of a hot air balloon accommodating any number of Slush Puppies and Coca-Colas that Nick bought every thirty minutes throughout the day. No wonder they were both hyper.
‘Head towards Miniland, girls,’ Nick called after them, as they pedalled off.
‘Shouldn’t we keep up with them?’ I asked nervously, as Lucinda and Charlotte disappeared out of sight.
‘They’re fine,’ said Nick, slowing to a stroll and taking my hand in his. The sudden romantic gesture caught me off guard. In a nanosecond the tension in my shoulders melted away, and I felt myself relaxing. So what if the girls cycled off? The whole place was enclosed. If they did happen to lose their bearings, they both had mobile phones and were obviously savvy enough to use them.
I inhaled a lungful of air, releasing it with a sigh of contentment. This was more like it. For a moment I allowed myself a happy daydream, pretending that I was Nick’s wife… yes, another wife… and that Charlotte and Lucinda were our children, and this was a family day out for the four of us. I imagined passers-by smiling indulgently at the handsome couple with their beautiful blonde children tearing around in high spirits.
‘Isn’t this wonderful,’ I said, smiling happily.
‘You’re enjoying yourself?’ said Nick, looking surprised.
‘Of course,’ I said. Didn’t he understand that I’d be happy going anywhere so long as he was by my side? ‘Aren’t you?’
‘Can’t stand these places,’ he replied cheerfully. ‘I guess I’m just not a true family guy.’
‘Of course you are,’ I said loyally.
‘Don’t get me wrong, Hattie,’ said Nick, giving a little shrug, ‘I love my girls unconditionally, but I find them damned hard work.’
Charlotte and Lucinda reappeared a minute later, scattering some birds pecking at dropped chips, repeatedly ringing their shrill bicycle bells and demanding we hurry up.
‘Oh look,’ I gasped, as miniature versions of famous London landmarks came into view. ‘Canary Wharf… City Hall… the Millennium Bridge… what amazing detail,’ I enthused, bending to inspect some tiny pigeons which, according to an information placard, were the smallest models and used just five Lego bricks each.
‘It’s boring,’ said Charlotte, looking mutinous, ‘and anyway, we want to go on some rides, don’t we, Daddy?’ She beamed up at her father.
‘We most certainly do!’ he said, causing Charlotte to shoot me a triumphant look. ‘Come on, Hattie,’ said Nick, as the girls flung their bicycles down on the ground and skipped off, one either side of Nick and holding a hand each. I was left to pick up the bikes and adopt a half-walk, half-crouch, making me look like a hunchback. They headed off in the direction of the Dragon’s Apprentice, a mini rollercoaster, which was perfect for kids but far too small for someone of my height, and with legs even longer than Nick’s. As Nick hopped into a carriage behind the girls, I opted to watch from the side, still hanging onto the bikes, all the while smiling brightly.
The sun, which up until now had been little more than a pale watery blob, suddenly disappeared behind a bank of dark clouds. A gust of wind sent an abandoned drink carton rolling across the ground, and I shivered. The weather was changing. Cold air filtered through every fibre of my hoodie until it felt like it was penetrating my bones. Too late I realised I should have brought a coat. Nick and the girls were suitably dressed and, anyway, they were busy roaring around on rides, dashing between attractions, constantly on the move and staying warmer than me. My position was mostly static, holding the wretched bikes as the three of them whizzed around on the Duplo train, then beamed down at me from the Aero Nomad. Actually, it was just Nick who beamed. The girls ignored me throughout, except on one occasion when Charlotte attractively turned her head one-hundred-and-eighty-degrees and stuck her tongue out without her father seeing. I shivered on the sidelines, my nose turning pink and my lips a fetching shade of blue, until the heavens opened forcing the girls to squeal and abandon any further rides.
We made a dash for the nearest fast food place – well the others did, I was still impeded and imitating Quasimodo, but with bikes rather than bells. Nick spent another small fortune on sugary drinks and burgers oozing fat, topped with slices of plastic cheese between cardboard buns.
‘You look frozen, Hattie,’ he said. ‘Leave the bikes outside and warm up.’
‘But what if they get stolen?’ I said, dithering between the call of hot chocolate or guarding the damn bicycles.
‘It doesn’t matter if they get stolen,’ said Lucinda, ‘because we’re too big for them now and, anyway, Daddy said he was going to buy us some new ones. Didn’t you Daddy?’ she smiled at him adoringly.
‘I did, angel.’
‘Surely only one new bike needs to be bought,’ I said, brow puckering. ‘Lucinda can have Charlotte’s outgrown bike.’
‘But that wouldn’t be fair,’ said Lucinda, looking aghast. ‘You wouldn’t make me have Charlotte’s old bike, would you Daddy? That would be so cruel.’
Nick roared with laughter at his daughter’s precociousness. ‘Of course it wouldn’t be fair, darling heart. Daddy will buy you both new bikes. Oh look, there’s an empty table over there. Let’s grab it.’
Lucinda gave me a ‘so there, ha ha!’ look, before scampering over to the vacated table with her sister, while Nick joined the food queue. I stayed with him on the pretence of helping, but in fact was reluctant to sit alone with the girls. I didn’t want to be on the receiving end of
their obvious dislike. Finally, carrying a loaded tray apiece, we made our way over to the slightly grubby table.
‘Sit down, Hattie,’ Nick said, indicating a chair. ‘That’s it. And you, Lucinda, can sit here next to me. You, Charlotte, can sit that side of the table next to Hattie.’
Charlotte immediately looked like she’d swallowed a gobstopper.
‘I’m not sitting next to her,’ she shrieked, catching the attention of some nearby parents who gazed at me uncertainly. ‘Mummy says we should never talk to strangers, and we don’t even know her.’
‘That’s enough,’ said Nick mildly.
Charlotte complied with her father’s wishes but not before shuffling her plastic chair closer to Nick, making sure there was as much distance as possible between her body and mine. I chewed on my greasy burger, trying not to feel miserable. The children were quiet for a moment as they busied themselves poking straws through plastic lids on drinks. Lucinda sucked on her straw, sly eyes under an over-long fringe peering up at me. She smirked and turned to her father.
‘Daddy, whatever happened to Caroline?’
‘Who?’
‘That really nice lady you went out with. Remember? She was so pretty and kind. She bought me a Barbie doll. I wanted you to marry her.’
‘I preferred Janey,’ said Charlotte. ‘She didn’t interfere’ – she gave me a pointed look – ‘and kept her opinions to herself.’
Nick scratched his head and looked bemused. ‘Since when were either of you so interested in my girlfriends? Anyway, I like Hattie now.’
‘We don’t,’ said Lucinda who, being the youngest, could get away with being more outspoken than her sibling.
I flushed the colour of the sticky bottle of ketchup on the table, but Nick simply hooted with laughter. He noticed my mottled complexion and leant over.
‘Take no notice of them,’ he whispered in my ear, then kissed me on the cheek.
The Man You Meet in Heaven: An absolutely feel-good romantic comedy Page 18
