Authors: Bella Osborne
Fleur came into the room wrapped in Charlie’s dressing gown and wearing Ted’s old slippers. She was closely followed by Millie.
‘Good morning, Gorgeous,’ said Charlie, as Millie plonked herself onto her lap and started to suck her thumb.
‘Good morning,’ said Fleur, curling herself into the chair opposite.
‘Do you have plans for today?’ asked Charlie, as she ran her fingers through Millie’s hair in an effort to remove the worst of the knots before she had to drag a reluctant comb through it.
‘I need a lift to Harold Hill to get my car.’
‘Or what’s left of it,’ snorted Charlie.
‘Don’t. That’s not funny.’
‘Nor is Harold Hill,’ said Charlie. ‘Yes, I’ll take you there. What time?’
‘No rush,’ said Fleur, with a yawn. ‘Maybe I could help you?’
‘That would be nice. I think I may have blown it with Ruth. She’s coming to see me later.’
‘Don’t worry, she’s all hot air.’
‘I’m not so sure that she is,’ said Charlie, feeling the ominous cloud of Ruth’s words hanging above her, raining down pellets of dread.
Fleur clapped her hands together. ‘What you need is a bit of fun!’
They decided that they would all have a walk to the park and take a picnic lunch. Charlie felt she needed to broach the subject of the children returning to school – and a bit of moral support from Fleur would be nice. After breakfast Fleur was playing mummies and babies with Millie and hadn’t appeared to see the irony of the game, but both she and Millie seemed content enough. George was playing something unsuitable on the games console with Ted so they were both happy and Eleanor was giving Wriggly a bath.
Charlie was counting out drinks into the cool box as the phone rang and it was answered somewhere else in the house. Ted strolled into the kitchen and mouthed that it was Ruth on the phone, followed by a roll of his eyes. This way she could at least listen to one side of the conversation and decide if she needed to pack now or later.
The conversation that followed was rather one-sided as Ted listened and Charlie could hear Ruth getting crosser in the background. After a couple of minutes, he handed the phone to Charlie. ‘She wants to talk to you,’ he said, taking the plate of toast and sitting down at the table. Charlie took the phone and regarded it as if it were a hand grenade with its pin missing.
‘Hello Ruth,’ said Charlie, trying to brazen it out.
‘We got cut off this morning,’ said Ruth, and Charlie thought for a bizarre moment that perhaps Ruth was being kind. ‘I think there’s a problem with my phone, it keeps doing it,’ but it turned out that, for once, luck was on Charlie’s side.
‘And there was me thinking you’d put the phone down on me, but who would be so rude?’
‘Quite,’ said Ruth. ‘Is Edward all right? He doesn’t speak.’
It was Charlie’s turn to roll her eyes. ‘He’s a teenager, Ruth. You’re lucky if you can get a grunt out of him.’
Charlie felt the toast hit the back of her head and turned around to see Ted holding a second slice aloft. She gave him a death stare and he grinned before biting into the toast.
‘Can you explain why my father seems to think he’s going to be the children’s guardian?’
‘I suggested it to Roger and he seemed quite keen. I spoke to Social Services about it too. Is there a problem?’
‘Yes, there’s a problem. My father was never one of the options. He is in a nursing home for a reason. He is not in a fit state to be the children’s guardian.’
‘But Social Services explained everything. They need to do an assessment of whoever puts themselves forward as guardian, they fill in some forms and it goes to court to grant the formal guardianship. I think they want someone who really wants to be the guardian to do it. Either way, I can go on looking after the children here in their own home,’ said Charlie. It was worth a try, she thought.
There was a slight pause and Charlie bit her lip. ‘I have power of attorney for my father. Do you know what that means?’
Charlie let out a defeated sigh. ‘That you’re going to say no.’
‘It means I have the legal right to make decisions for him. My decision is that he will not be the children’s guardian. I’ll be along later to discuss…’
‘Ruth, hold on. I only want what’s best for the children. And I know that sounds really big-headed of me, and before you say it, I know I’m not a qualified nanny, but it works. The children and I get on really well. This isn’t just a job to me, I love these kids.’ There was no response from the other end of the line so Charlie continued. ‘Ruth, I don’t want to upset you or anyone else in the family, I want to do what I think Helen and Toby would have wanted and I honestly believe that they would have wanted the children to stay in their own home.’ She felt an unwelcome tear poke the back of her eyes. There was still no response. ‘Ruth, are you still there?’ There was silence. ‘Bloody phone!’ said Charlie as she switched it off.
The mood was decidedly un-picnic-y as they threw down the rugs, including a plastic-coated Winnie the Pooh one for Millie. The grass was damp but the rain was currently holding off. Millie was the only one who was disappointed about this as she had brought her umbrella in the hope of a downpour. George flopped down onto a rug, looking intensely bored already. Millie spotted the play area and started running.
‘Here you go!’ said Charlie as she threw the Frisbee towards Ted, who sidestepped it and wandered off after Millie. He walked with a slouch these days. Charlie wasn’t sure if he always had but it seemed more noticeable recently. And his ear buds were permanently attached to his ears. ‘Football?’ said Charlie, offering the ball up to George and Eleanor.
‘I’m going to take Wriggly for a walk,’ said Eleanor glumly.
‘Keep where I can see you, okay?’
‘I’ll go with her,’ said George, dragging himself up from the rug.
‘And then there were two,’ said Fleur.
‘At least they’re getting some fresh air,’ said Charlie, trying to ignore the distant rumble of London traffic.
Fleur’s phone beeped for the umpteenth time that morning. ‘It’s Knob,’ she said, ‘he’s dropping the charges.’
‘You were right,’ said Charlie, feeling relieved. ‘Anything else?’ she added, suspecting that the lovely Fleur wasn’t telling all. She settled herself down so she had a good view of the play area and of George and Eleanor, who were already quite a distance away.
‘He still loves me.’
‘Uh, huh, that explains kissing Sophie and dumping you at your own wedding reception.’
‘He says he didn’t know what to do for the best, what with all the money my parents had spent.’
‘Yes, I can see that that would concern Knob. You’re not thinking of taking him back are you?’ asked Charlie, dragging her eyes away from Millie, who was squealing happily as a nonchalant Ted tried to push her swing one-handed and without looking.
‘No… No! Honestly, it’s over. It’s just… don’t laugh,’ said Fleur, lying back on the rug, her auburn hair splaying out around her head like a giant halo.
‘Go on,’ said Charlie, scanning the park and spotting Wriggly trying to pull Eleanor’s arm off with his lead so that he could chase a pigeon.
‘There was so much to do before the wedding. There was this massive list of things that had to be perfect and I was busy every day sorting it all out. The caterers, the marquee, the church, the place names, the champagne, the honeymoon, it was a very long list. But now, I have nothing to do. There was this big full stop and I don’t know what to do now.’
‘But after the honeymoon, what had you planned to do?’ asked Charlie, feeling this was possibly the most ridiculous dilemma ever.
‘Be with Rob… the Knob,’ said Fleur, with a clear hesitation before she added the insult. Charlie feared that she was wavering and Fleur was as robust as a wet paper bag when it came to men.
‘Really? That was the rest of your life. You following him around while he pratted about with the Headless Hamsters.’
‘Rodents,’ corrected Fleur.
‘I know. Come on, Fleur, maybe this is the wake-up call you need. Do something with your life. You can do anything. You simply need to make it happen.’ And with Mummy and Daddy’s money and unwavering support behind you, you really could do anything you wanted, thought Charlie.
‘Do you ever think about when we were in foster care?’ asked Fleur.
Charlie turned away from her surveillance operation to look at Fleur. ‘Blimey, that was a long time ago, Fleur.’
‘I can’t remember any of it,’ said Fleur, her eyes filled with sadness.
Charlie turned back to watch George poking something in the grass with a stick. ‘Nobody can remember stuff from when they were that young. I was four and I only have vague memories and you were what? Eighteen months old?’
Fleur nodded. ‘It’s like a book with the first chapter missing.’
Charlie glanced over her shoulder and smiled indulgently. ‘Oh, Fleur, that’s very poetic but it’s a right load of crap!’
Fleur looked tense. ‘Don’t you want to know about your early life?’
‘Nope,’ said Charlie, with a shrug. ‘Why would you want to know about a time when people didn’t care enough to look after you properly?’
Fleur bit her lip. ‘It feels like I’ve got something missing.’
Charlie resisted the opportunity to make a joke. ‘Fleur, I think you’re looking for excuses. You have the most amazing family, who love you to bits. Knowing about the past might fill in a few blanks but that’s all it will do. It won’t suddenly unlock the key to your future.’ Fleur sighed and Charlie decided to leave things there.
Fleur and Charlie’s childhood experiences had been very different. Charlie had been like a pinball in the care system, bouncing from one place to another and from one misadventure to the next. It wasn’t an excuse, it was simply fact and, coupled with the usual teenaged angst, it had made for an explosive cocktail. Thanks to the kindness and unrelenting persistence of her last foster parents, Charlie had finally straightened herself out. The Van Bentons had also been a constant presence, letting Charlie and Fleur keep in touch after they adopted Fleur, as the girls had shared an early bond in their foster placement together. It was thanks to the Van Bentons that she had got this job. They were good friends with Helen and Toby and knowing the Cobley’s situation they had engineered a meeting and waxed lyrical about how well Charlie was doing, having achieved her level one in childcare. The Van Bentons had been incredibly good to her.
‘Maybe I should have gone to Borneo for the honeymoon on my own,’ mused Fleur, staring up at the branches of the tree above her.
‘Great, so that would have kept you occupied for two weeks. Still leaves the question of the next seventy or so years,’ said Charlie, losing sight of Millie and half getting to her feet before spotting Ted supporting Millie on the climbing equipment.
‘Pa is driving me potty as well, so a break from the parents would be a good thing.’
‘What’s your dad done?’
‘Nothing he hasn’t done before. He just takes over everything. He cancelled the honeymoon, sorted out the return of all the presents. He’s sorting out the divorce. He does everything and it drives me mad,’ said Fleur, waving her arms and from her prone position looking a little like a dying fly.
‘Eleanor washes her own hair now,’ said Charlie after a pause.
‘Random.’
‘I don’t remind her, because I know she can do it herself. Before, I used to have to remind her and before that I had to do it for her.’
‘Riveting,’ said Fleur. ‘Should I book a holiday?’
‘What I mean is, you need to show your parents that you can do things for yourself. Start by sorting out the divorce. Show them you’re not a little girl any more,’ said Charlie, taking a quick glance at Fleur, who was pouting.
‘Pa knows solicitors and it’s all a bit upsetting.’
‘Don’t be so lazy! Google solicitors and pick one. Ring them up and ask them if they’ll take you on as their client. It’s not hard!’ said Charlie, shaking her head in dismay. Sometimes she wanted to give Fleur a good shake and this was one of them. ‘Right, I’ll round up the troops, you unpack the hamper,’ and Charlie strode off towards where she’d last seen Wriggly trying to wee up a litterbin.
The children all ate their sandwiches in silence apart from Eleanor, who lay on the rug copying Fleur. Some teenagers walked close by them and Millie waved at them. When this elicited no response, she happily called after them, ‘Riff Raff!’ George started to chuckle and a smile broke out on Eleanor’s face and then, like the best disease ever, they all started to laugh. Fleur lifted her sunglasses to survey them all. It was like a release valve and the laughter went on a fraction longer than was sane.
The laughter trickled away and Charlie saw her opportunity. ‘I’m glad we’re together. I need to talk to you about going back to school,’ she said, checking each face in turn and waiting for the deluge of complaints. ‘I’ve been speaking to your schools regularly and they’re keen to have you back.’
Ted looked at his siblings and shrugged at Charlie. ‘Fine, it’s boring at home,’ he said.
‘Even more boring than school,’ said George. They all turned to look at Eleanor.
‘I’ve missed school. Can I go tomorrow?’
‘If you want to,’ said Charlie, totally stunned by the reaction. Maybe getting back into their normal routine was what they were missing, but she couldn’t help but worry how they would manage all the questions and curiosity that would surely come their way from their classmates. She knew she couldn’t protect them from that. All she could do was be there when they came home.
‘Are there any crisps?’ asked Eleanor, and Charlie handed them over and resisted the urge to hug her.
After the food, the children disappeared with the football and whatever the game was they were playing Wriggly appeared to be at the centre of it. Charlie packed away all the leftover food before any flies got interested and Fleur grabbed the last couple of chunks of celery before they were hastily wrapped in cling film. Charlie leant back against the tree and felt herself relax a little.
‘Here you go,’ said Fleur, handing Charlie a thick cream embossed business card. ‘Sorry, I forget to give it to you earlier.’