‘She said I’m not allowed.’
Emma huffed and escorted Sam over to the slide. She could see Ruby’s shiny black school shoes sticking out of the house at the top, like some sort of tiny Wicked Witch of the West. Another pair of feet appeared, shod in white trainers and turned slightly towards Ruby’s.
‘She’s playing with Flora,’ Sam said.
‘Good for her,’ Emma told him. ‘But you can still go up there if you want to go up there. Do you?’
‘No,’ Sam said.
Emma rolled her eyes. ‘Well do it anyway.’
Emma knew the other parents would be watching her and there was no way she was going to give up and let Sam go back to the sandpit. Instead she boosted him up the climbing wall, his bum on her chest as he clung to the rope and said ‘Mama, I can’t.’
‘Course you can,’ Emma said. ‘Just move your feet to the next … thingy. I’ve got you, you can’t fall.’
Sam stepped up with one foot before turning to look down at Emma, his eyes wide with panic.
‘Don’t look down, sweetheart,’ Emma said. ‘You’re almost there. Just one more step and you’ll be able to reach the top.’
As Sam moved his left foot, Ruby’s face appeared just above him.
‘Ugh! Why is he coming up here! I told him not to!’
‘And I told him to ignore you,’ Emma said in her calmest tone. ‘Sam should get the chance to play too and he wanted to use the climbing wall.’
‘I didn’t,’ Sam said.
‘But I’m with Flora!’ Ruby hissed.
Out of the corner of her eye, Emma saw a small figure whoosh down the slide and run off across the playground.
‘And now she’s gone!’ Ruby wailed.
Emma didn’t even have to look to know her daughter’s eyes would be brimming with tears.
‘Go after her!’ Emma said. ‘Maybe she’s playing tick.’
‘My hands hurt,’ Sam said. ‘Can I get down?’
‘I’ll push you up,’ Emma said. ‘Reach for the wooden bit. Rubes, go find Flora and tell her you want to play with her.’
Ruby groaned and slid down the slide, immediately disappearing out of Emma’s peripheral vision. Emma held onto Sam until his small fingers managed to cling to the top edge of the wall, at which point she bent her knees and pushed him. He straightened up at the same time and there was a huge clang as he hit his head on the top of the little house and then burst into tears.
‘Shit,’ Emma said. She turned to look for Beth for support, but Beth was pushing both twins on the swings at the same time. She gave her a grimace of sympathy. Hanan was still in the sandpit with a weeping Mohammed. There was no sign of Ruby, Flora or Yahya.
‘I want to get down!’ Sam wailed.
Emma wasn’t sure if it was her imagination, but it felt like the entire park was watching in silent judgement. She could totally imagine that Eve and Flic were mentally crafting the story they were going to report back to Jools.
‘I want to get down!’ Sam said again, tears running down his cheeks and dripping off his chin.
‘You’re going to have to come down the slide, angel,’ Emma told the still-sobbing Sam. ‘I can’t get up there.’
‘I can’t get down!’ He’d swung his legs round now so he was sitting on the edge of the wall. ‘Can you catch me?’
Emma stared. She probably could. He didn’t weigh much. And it wasn’t high. But she had visions of him jumping and either knocking her to the ground or missing her altogether and splatting on the ground himself.
‘No, darling,’ Emma said. ‘I’ll come up. Just … try to calm down, OK? I’m just going to walk around and see if I can find a way to get up to you. Don’t panic if you can’t see me, OK?’
Emma could hear Sam whimpering as she walked around the slide. Apart from the climbing wall there was a fireman’s pole, but no other way to get up there. When had whoever made kids’ playground equipment given up on ladders? What had been wrong with ladders?
‘Mama?’ she heard Sam call as she reached the bottom of the slide.
‘Hang on!’
A glance over towards the benches confirmed what she’d previously suspected, all the other parents were watching her. And she was going to have to go up the slide.
‘I’m coming up!’ she called to Sam and started to clamber up the metal surface, her shoes squeaking as she slipped. She tensed her arms on the sides and willed herself to get the rest of the way up in one go. I’ll go to the gym, she promised herself. If I make it to the top in one go I’ll find a gym and build my upper body strength and never— Her feet slipped again, her knees hit the slide with a loud CLANG and before she could fully process what was happening, she was sliding back down again. She dropped off the bottom of the slide, onto her knees in the wood chippings.
‘Fuck,’ she breathed, dropping her head.
‘You OK, Mama?’ Sam called from the top of the slide.
‘I’m fine, thanks,’ she called back brightly. ‘Trying again now.’
She had to do it this time, she knew. There was no way she was spending the rest of the day humiliating herself on a kids’ slide. She’d read about women finding the strength to lift cars off their kids, there was no way she was going to be beaten by a slide. The second time she almost reached the top, her feet slipped again, but she managed to grab the wood at the top and then pull her knees up and drag herself over and into the little house.
‘Hi!’ Sam said. He’d stopped crying. He looked fine. Better than fine, in fact, he looked delighted. ‘You’re not supposed to go up the slide,’ he said.
‘I know,’ Emma said. ‘But it was an emergency. Or I thought it was. Are you OK?’
‘Yes thank you. Can I go down the slide on your knee?’
Emma stared at him. She wanted to tell him what she’d just put herself through because she thought he needed her. But it was pointless. He was five. He totally expected her to be at his beck and call. And that was fine. It was. She straightened her legs out in front of her and let her son climb onto her knee.
Jools didn’t want to go out for dinner with Emma and her husband. She wanted to curl up on the sofa under a blanket and watch old episodes of Murder She Wrote that she always kept saved on the DVR for when she just wanted to zone out. But she also wanted – needed – to support Matt. He’d worked so hard and given them this amazing life. And even though he would happily go without her, would, she knew, charm Paul and Emma and anyone else who came within twenty feet of him, she wasn’t willing to let him do it alone. Yes, she had cancer, but that didn’t mean she had to put her life on hold until she didn’t have cancer any more. She just needed to pace herself. She pressed play on the meditation app on her phone and closed her eyes, resting her hands on her breasts. She liked to picture the cancer cells – like frog spawn, bubbling, dividing – and melt them with her mind.
She had to beat it. There was just no other option.
Chapter Nineteen
‘You look nice,’ Paul said, barely glancing up from his phone.
Nice, Emma thought. She’d been hoping for something a bit better than ‘nice’, but she knew Paul would be nervous – he always got more nervous about social occasions than business meetings, and Matt was a star player so they both needed to make a good impression.
‘You look beautiful!’ Ruby said.
‘You look like a girl!’ Sam added.
Emma was only wearing black jeans with a long-sleeved black V-neck top, but she’d managed to dig out a pair of wine-red suede ankle boots that she hadn’t worn for ages and she’d straightened her hair and added a deep red lipstick. The children probably hadn’t seen her wear lipstick for months.
‘Ready?’ Paul asked, standing up, still staring down at the screen in his hand.
‘Only if we’re planning on leaving the children home alone,’ Emma said.
Paul had actually done that once when Ruby was little. Emma had popped out for milk, leaving them both asleep in their respective beds.
She’d written a note for Paul just in case, but when he’d woken in a panic, thinking he was late for work, forgetting he had the day off, he’d missed it. And left. Ruby was still snoring when Emma had got back, but she’d been baffled as to where Paul might be and why he would have left their child. He’d been mortified when he’d realised. Once Emma had stopped clutching her heart with fear over every possible thing that could have gone wrong while neither of them had been home, she’d realised how overworked and stressed Paul had been. That had actually been the first time he’d suggested moving back north, she remembered now. It had taken them years to actually do it.
The doorbell rang and Emma rushed to open it – kicking Sam’s school bag out of the way, even though she was sure she’d hung it up once already – and opening the door to reveal Sage, the teenage babysitter Beth had recommended.
‘Is that Sage?’ Ruby yelled.
‘She’s been looking forward to seeing you again,’ Emma told Sage, as they both headed down the hall to the kitchen.
When Emma had called Sage to ask her about babysitting, she’d invited her round to meet the kids and both of them had fallen instantly in love with her. Emma hadn’t been at all surprised. Sage was sweet and funny and wore a bubble gum pink faux fur coat. Even so, Emma had experienced frequent bursts of panic and fear about leaving the children alone with a virtual stranger, but she came with references – she’d looked after Beth’s three and she did her school work experience at a local nursery – and Emma really wanted to find someone she could rely on since she hoped to start building a social life for herself at some point.
But not tonight. Tonight wasn’t for her. Tonight was for Paul.
Although the kids loved Sage, they still were not at all happy when they realised their parents were actually going out and leaving them alone. Sam had clung to Emma, sobbing, and even Ruby’s lip had quivered a little. But then Sage had revealed she’d brought a jigsaw with her and, along with promises of hot chocolate with marshmallows, managed to coax them back to the kitchen table.
Emma closed the front door behind them and paused for a second.
‘They’ll be fine,’ Paul said.
‘I know,’ Emma said. ‘It’s just weird. I haven’t left them for a while.’
‘I was thinking that we haven’t been out on our own for a while,’ Paul said, stepping closer. He was wearing a navy suit and a white shirt and he actually looked really hot. Emma leaned back against the door.
‘You look beautiful,’ Paul said.
‘Oh? I thought I just looked “nice”?’
Paul grinned and dipped his head, brushing his lips over her jaw. ‘No. Definitely beautiful.’
Emma turned her head and caught his lips with hers. He tasted of coffee. He made a sound against her mouth and pressed her into the door.
‘We’d better go,’ Emma said against his mouth. ‘If the kids spot us …’
Paul laughed. ‘You’re right. We can do a bit more snogging in the cab.’
The restaurant was in Albert Dock with views out across the water to the Liver Buildings. The waiter advised them that Jools and Matt hadn’t arrived yet. Emma secretly hoped they’d cancel so she and Paul could have an evening alone.
At the table, Emma fiddled with her napkin and poured herself a glass of water, wondering just how late Jools and Matt would be. Once, in London, a footballer had kept them waiting for three hours. He’d messaged Paul repeatedly with apologies and updates and then, eventually, had said he ‘just couldn’t swing it’.
Emma spotted Jools as soon as she walked in ahead of her husband. Her blonde hair was piled high on her head and she was wearing a silver shift dress and a necklace that looked like piles of silver balls. Emma shuffled her seat back in readiness for standing and then she saw Jools’s husband Matt.
He was beautiful – she’d googled him after Paul had told her about him and she’d been stunned by the photos she’d found. The first page had all been photos of him playing over the last couple of years, in various kits, sometimes with his shirt off. The second page had led her to the scan of the local magazine she’d seen but hadn’t fully taken in: pages of photos of him and Jools and their daughters. In their lovely home. The five of them looked utterly relaxed and at ease with one another. In one of the photos one of the girls was sitting on Matt’s shoulders, his face scrunched up with laughter. Jools looking up at the two of them adoringly. Emma had stared at it for ages. But he was possibly even better looking in real life.
As Jools and Matt crossed the room, Emma felt the atmosphere change. She glanced around to see that everyone was watching them, but Matt and Jools seemed unaware of it, gliding towards them looking golden and rich.
‘Hey!’ Matt said, as he reached for Paul’s hand. They shook while Jools moved around the table towards Emma. She nodded at Emma and Emma smiled back.
Once they were all seated, the waiter reappeared and, after a bit of discussion, they ordered an expensive bottle of red wine and chatted a little while they waited – small talk about Liverpool, the school, their children.
Matt and Paul were deep in conversation – Paul could talk about football all night. And often did at these things. Emma couldn’t think of anything to say to Jools. She wanted to ask her about her hair, her nails, her perfect eyebrows, but the thought of it made her feel like she was back at school, admiring Sara Doyle’s hair and shoes and perfume.
‘How did you two meet?’ she asked Jools eventually, while they were tucking into the main course.
‘Tinder,’ Matt said.
‘We did not!’ Jools said instantly, and then grinned at him. ‘I got set up on a blind date with Matt’s brother, Joe. He had to cancel, but he couldn’t get in touch with me – there was a problem with my phone which I hadn’t realised. So Matt came to the restaurant to tell me. And then he stayed for dinner …’
‘And then we got married,’ Matt finished.
‘How soon?’ Emma asked.
‘Three months,’ Matt said. ‘On holiday in Vegas.’
‘Wow,’ Paul said. ‘That’s fast.’
‘When you know you know,’ Matt said. ‘How about you two?’
While Paul told Matt how he and Emma had met, Emma finished her food, occasionally glancing over at Jools to see how she was getting on. She was picking at her meal, sipping at water in between.
‘Is it not good?’ Emma asked.
Jools looked over at her. ‘It’s fine. I’m just not that bothered about food really.’
Great that Paul brought you to such an expensive restaurant then, Emma thought.
‘Emma was telling me you’ve got a book club,’ Paul said, gesturing with his fork, a piece of steak speared on the end.
Emma sucked in a breath and pressed her foot onto Paul’s under the table. She really didn’t want him to mention the fact that it was exclusive or Jools’s inner circle only. She didn’t even really want Jools to know that she’d been talking about her at all.
‘I have, yes,’ Jools said, reaching for her wine. ‘It’s very small. Just four of us. We’ve been meeting for a while now.’
‘What are you reading?’ Paul asked. ‘Em’s a big reader. Or she used to be anyway. She’s had the same book on her bedside table since we moved.’
At that, Emma did actually kick him under the table. He jerked back in his seat, frowning at her.
‘I don’t have time to read much these days,’ Emma said.
‘I feel like you have to make time,’ Jools argued. She was still looking at Paul, not at Emma. ‘It’s important to have a bit of … intellectual stimulation, I think? Otherwise you can get too wrapped up in the kids and before long, you can name all the CBeebies presenters, but you don’t know who the Home Secretary is.’
Paul laughed and Emma seriously thought about kicking him in his other shin. For fuck’s sake, all she’d said was that she didn’t have time to read, not that she’d given up on the real world in favour of her kids. Although she wasn’t sure she did know who the
Home Secretary was.
‘What are you reading now?’ Emma asked, realising Jools hadn’t answered in her eagerness to get one over on Emma.
‘Jude the Obscure,’ Jools said. ‘Thomas Hardy.’
Emma wanted to say ‘I know who it’s by’ but instead she just smiled. ‘I haven’t read that one. I’ve seen the film though.’
‘You should come along,’ Matt said, reaching for the wine and topping up Emma’s glass. ‘It’d be a great way for you to get to know some of the other mums. Wouldn’t it, Jools?’
Emma could imagine how hard Jools was likely stepping on Matt’s foot under the table, but her smile never wavered.
‘Sure,’ she said. ‘Give me your number and I’ll text over the details.’
Chapter Twenty
Jools knew as soon as she woke up the following morning that her hair was gone. She lay for a few minutes, crying silently, before she sat up and gathered the strands off her pillow with her hands. She didn’t feel right about throwing it away, so she fastened it with one of the elastics she always had around the house and tucked it into her underwear drawer.
In the bathroom, she stared at herself in the mirror. Her hair wasn’t gone entirely, but enough of it had fallen out that she’d have to shave it and wear a wig or one of the turban things Eve had insisted on buying for her, even though Jools had been equally insistent she’d never wear one. She pulled her remaining hair into a ponytail and snipped through, dropping the straggly ends into the bin, before heading back into the bedroom to wake Matt.
Ten minutes later, Jools was sitting in the middle of the bed, propped up with pillows, while Matt shaved the rest of her hair. She kept her eyes closed, not wanting to see any more of the hair she’d always been so proud of falling down in front of her eyes. It was stupid to be proud of her hair anyway, she knew – it wasn’t like she had anything to do with it. But still. She’d always been ‘Jools with the long blonde hair’. Who was she now?
Matt’s hands were gentle on her head, his fingers brushing over her scalp. She hoped it was a good shape, hoped her scalp wasn’t scarred or patchy or odd. No one outside the house would see her without her wig, but Matt would. And she didn’t want to look like an alien.
The Bad Mothers’ Book Club Page 11
