Megan 3 (7 page)

‘From the sound of her, I don’t think that will do much good,’ Vicki said gently. ‘But try, though. And if you give me the number I’ll ring, too. We’ll see what we can get sorted out over the weekend.’

‘They won’t take Stella away, will they?’ Kirsty asked desperately.

‘Well, we’ll hope it won’t come to that,’ Vicki said. ‘One more thing – have a think about any other places you could stay. Maybe you’ve got an older sister or aunt or someone you could live with?’

‘No, I haven’t!’ Kirsty shook her head and started crying again.

Vicki said she’d keep Stella in there while she was asleep, so Kirsty and I went into the study room, where Kirsty collapsed in a heap.

‘I know they’re going to take her away!’ she sobbed. ‘I know they won’t let me keep her.’

‘They haven’t said that,’ I said. I thought about Jack and shivered. Although I complained about him, it would be unthinkable not to have him now. If anyone ever wanted to take him away…

‘Look,’ I said after few moments. ‘You’ll have to sort yourself out a bit. If Vicki comes along in a minute and you’re still falling about the place crying then it’s not going to look good. You’ve got to prove to her and everyone else that you can cope with things.’

Kirsty thought about this for a moment, then nodded. ‘OK,’ she sniffed.

‘I’m not being funny but why don’t you go and tidy yourself up a bit?’ It felt a bit mad to be telling
someone else to do this, seeing as how half the time I went round looking like a dustbin. ‘Wash your face and brush your hair and I bet you’ll feel better.’

She did that – and did look better – and that afternoon Vicki got some sort of emergency fund money so that she could go out and buy six feeding bottles, a sterilising unit and a big packet of formula milk to replace the stuff she’d had pinched. They were both going to see what they could come up with over the weekend – and Kirsty also had to go round and ask her mum if she’d be willing to let her come home for a while.

Jon came along when I was hanging around for my taxi that afternoon. He looked really good – he was quite brown and his almost-shaved head was tanned, too. Jack was sitting quite happily in the little plastic truck in the front garden, so I opened the gate and went out into the road.

‘Caught you!’ Jon said. ‘I’ve been along a couple of afternoons but I must have missed you.’

I smiled, pleased to see him. I still felt bad about Kirsty, though, so it probably wasn’t much of a smile because he asked me what was up.

I shook my head. ‘Nothing. It’s just about a
friend of mine. How are you, anyway?’

‘All the better for seeing you. Anyone tell you you’ve got lovely eyes?’

‘What a line,’ I said, though I was dead pleased.

‘So where d’you live, then?’

I told him and he puffed out his cheeks. ‘Blimey. I don’t know how I’d get over there.’

So you
are
thinking about it, I thought. ‘It’s difficult without a car,’ I said casually.

‘And even if I got trains or something, how would I get home?’ He looked me straight in the eye and added, ‘Unless I stayed the night, of course.’

I felt myself going red and was quite relieved when my taxi squealed round the corner. ‘Bit ahead of yourself, aren’t you?’ I said.

‘Yeah. Maybe.’ And then his eyes lit up and he smiled a really sexy smile. ‘Doesn’t hurt to ask though, does it?’

My taxi driver dropped me off outside my flats as usual later that afternoon (‘You mind what you get up to at the weekend with those boyfriends of yours!’) and with Jack slung round my hip, I climbed the stairs up to our flat. Another weekend with sod all to do. Something to dream about, though: Jon and what
he’d said. It made me feel all funny just thinking about it…

Witch’s Brew was just coming down the stairs. ‘Lots going on in your flat today,’ she said, patting Jack on the head.

Oh-oh, I thought: Ellie on the doorstep snogging again.

‘People coming… people going,’ she went on.

‘What d’you mean? Who’s coming and going?’

But she was trotting along the walkway to her own flat. ‘You’ll find out,’ she said.

I watched her disappear, wondering what she was going on about. Maybe Ellie had asked loads of kids from school along for a video or something. Well, if she had they could all go home again.

I walked along to the flat. There was no noisy chatter, though, no loud music. Opening the door, I saw that Ellie’s jacket and bag weren’t there, so she wasn’t even home.

Maybe old Witch’s Brew was going a bit batty, I thought, and then I heard Mum’s voice from the bedroom. ‘No, over here!’ she was saying, and laughing.

I just opened my mouth to bellow ‘Mum!’ and ask her what she was doing home, when I heard a man’s voice.

‘Really!’ he said. ‘At your age!’ and then there was more laughter.

‘Lo!’ Jack called, hearing his gran. I just stood there, mouth open and gawping. Mum and a man.
In her bedroom
. What was going on?

I stood there for a moment, wondering what to do. Then I put down Jack and everything else and went back to open and close the front door again loudly so they’d know someone was home. Jack, seizing his opportunity, staggered into the kitchen and went straight for his favourite cupboard.
Crash
! I heard, as something hit the floor.

From the bedroom, Mum called, ‘Is that you, Megan?’

‘Yes!’ I called back.

I heard the murmur of voices, and then a man said, ‘Well, the sooner she gets used to it, the better.’

A tingle ran down my back. I didn’t like the sound of that.

The bedroom opened and Mum appeared. She didn’t look as if she’d just got out of bed or anything – she always looked neat and tidy whatever the occasion – but she did look a bit pink. ‘Everything all right?’ she asked me.

‘Fine,’ I said, and then I just looked at her, waiting. Past her, reflected in the mirror on her dressing table, I could see a man wearing a dark suit.

‘Well, if your mother’s not going to introduce me, I’d better do it myself!’ a jovial voice said. The door opened wider and he stepped forward. He was short and quite squatty, with hair combed over a bald patch and a pale, freckled complexion. ‘I’m George,’ he said. ‘George Simpson. I daresay your mum’s told you about me.’

I shook my head slowly. ‘No. No, she hasn’t.’

‘There hasn’t really been the time, George,’ Mum said, smiling up at him. ‘And we didn’t know events would overtake us quite so quickly, did we?’

‘Indeed not,’ George said.

‘We knew Mum had a…’ I didn’t really know what to call him. ‘A boyfriend,’ I said, for want of anything better.

‘Ah, I think I’m a little more than that,’ he said.

Yeah, I could see that, I thought – seeing as you were coming out of the bedroom.

‘What George means is – he and I are engaged,’ Mum said all of a rush.

I stared at her. ‘What? How can you be?’

She laughed. ‘Quite easily.’ She held up her hand, ‘See – engagement ring.’

I glanced at it, not knowing what to say. People their age getting engaged seemed bizarre. I knew people still did it – but young people, not your mum. And especially not to someone you didn’t know. This George might as well be a stranger off the street for all I knew about him.

‘Oh. Isn’t it all a bit quick?’ I said.

Mum smiled. ‘George and I have been seeing each other for a few months now. And I’ve known him for years at work, of course.’

‘That was before love blossomed!’ George put in, giving her a hug, and I was practically sick on the spot.

Just as I was wondering what it all meant – I mean, were they getting married or anything? – Jack came into the hall with a colander in his hand. ‘Bye!’ he said to Mum, beaming at her.

‘There’s my boy!’ Mum said, swooping on him and picking him up. Then she looked at him closely and said, ‘Whatever has he been doing, Megan? He’s absolutely filthy!’

‘They had the sand tray out today,’ I said, still thinking
what’s this George doing here
? ‘Jack wasn’t allowed near it but two of the older kids gave him some sand to play with.’

‘It’s in his hair, nails… even in the crease of his neck!’ Mum said, examining him all over. ‘And he’s got yellow stains all over his T-shirt. The babies should be more closely supervised, Megan. He could have eaten that sand!’

‘He probably did,’ I said.

Jack was staring at George, eyes wide.

‘This is Jack. So what do you think of my grandson?’ Mum asked George.

‘Very nice, very nice,’ George said smoothly, and I thought, I bet
he
hasn’t had children. ‘How old did you say he was?’

‘Nearly fourteen months,’ I said. I took Jack from Mum. ‘So… now that you’re engaged – what’s that mean, exactly?’

‘Well,’ Mum said slowly, ‘we’re not only a proper couple, but George has come to live here with me. With us.’

‘Oh.’ I stared at her. If she’d said George was an alien I couldn’t have been more surprised. Mum – living with someone when she’d always been so bloody scathing about anyone else setting up – living in sin, as she called it – before they were married.

‘But we… it’s so small here!’ I said weakly, trying to imagine what it would be like having another person
in the flat: George in the bathroom, George to be cooked for, George hogging the TV controls, George wanting Mum to go out places with him, George’s washing, George’s ironing, George’s stuff all round the place. We could barely manage as it was.

‘I hope we’ll be able to move quite soon,’ George said.

‘That’s right,’ said Mum. ‘We’re looking out for a house with a garden.’ When I didn’t make noises of pleasure and appreciation she added, ‘A nice garden for Jack to play in.’

‘Oh. Right,’ I said. I couldn’t quite take it in. House: OK. George: not so OK. But whether I approved or not it didn’t make much difference. It was official: George was here, living with us.

‘We were just hanging George’s things up in the wardrobe,’ Mum said.

‘I haven’t got much with me,’ said George. ‘I’ll have to bide my time and pop back for the rest.’

Mum looked at me, seeming a bit embarrassed. ‘George had to leave in a rush yesterday evening.’

‘Spent the night in the car!’ George added.

My mind spun with possibilities: moonlight flits, non-payment of rent, rows with landlords. The obvious thing just didn’t occur to me.

‘We said we were going to move the bedside table to make room for my trouser press,’ George reminded Mum.

‘Let’s finish that, then,’ Mum said, ‘and Megan will make us a nice cup of tea.’

‘I like it very strong,’ George said, going back into the bedroom, ‘and two sugars.’

I changed Jack first, washed his face and sat him in his high chair with a biscuit. While I was making the tea, Ellie came in. ‘Mum home?’ she asked.

‘Yes,’ I said, ‘and George. He’s home, too.’

‘What d’you mean?’ she asked, and she pulled such an extraordinarily astonished face that I started laughing.

‘George. He’s here. Right here in the flat.’

‘
George
?’

‘George est arrivée,’ I said, in French that was probably wrong.

‘What – he’s come here to meet us?’ Ellie asked.

‘No, he’s come to live with us.’

‘Don’t be stupid.’

‘I’m not!’

Jack threw his biscuit on the floor and I picked it up, inspected it for fluff and gave it back to him.

‘Since when?’

‘Since today. I came home, heard voices in Mum’s bedroom and he appeared. Mum says they’re engaged.’ I rolled my eyes at Ellie. ‘She’s got a ring.’

‘What’s it like? What sort of stone?’

‘I don’t know!’ I said incredulously. ‘Fancy you asking a thing like that at a time like this. I didn’t even look at it.’

There was a long silence and then Ellie heaved a great sigh and shook her head. ‘What a turn up. We thought he was just a bloke at work.’

‘He was, apparently – until their love blossomed!’

‘Don’t tell me he said that?’

I nodded.

‘Yuk,’ we both said together.

‘It’s a bit strange though, isn’t it?’ I said in a low voice. ‘He arrived all unannounced – I mean, I don’t think Mum knew he was moving in today. And he told me that he’s going back for more stuff later. Apparently he spent last night in his car.’

‘His wife chucked him out, then,’ Ellie said.

‘What?’

‘It’s obvious, isn’t it? His wife found out he was seeing Mum and chucked him out.’

I gasped. ‘I bet you’re right.’

‘We’re going to be falling over each other here with five of us!’ she said, pulling an anguished face. ‘What’s he like, anyway?’

‘Fattish. Funny hair,’ I said, turning my nose up. ‘Not exactly gorgeous.’

‘Nor is Mum,’ she pointed out.

I found a banana in the fruit bowl and started mashing it up for Jack’s tea. He was getting tired, now, grizzling and giving the occasional irritable shriek. The biscuit, half-chewed, had disappeared somewhere between him and the high chair tray, and he’d rubbed some soggy bits of it into his hair. I looked at my watch. I couldn’t put him to bed before six – if I did he’d be up, bouncing around, by nine o’clock. I had to keep him going until seven at least to have any chance of getting him through the night.

Ellie looked out of the kitchen and towards Mum’s bedroom. ‘Suppose we hate him?’

I shrugged. ‘Dunno. If we do… I suppose we’ll just have to put up with him.’

It was an hour later and we were sitting down for what was normally called ‘tea’ but what Mum had today called ‘supper’. Ellie had been sent down to the
corner shop for a pizza and some salad, and there wasn’t a sign of a chip anywhere. We were all being terribly polite and formal with our ‘Please pass the salad cream’ and ‘Anyone want some more tomato?’ except Jack, of course, who didn’t know it was a Big Occasion and so was sitting under the table eating a biscuit and making the occasional rude noise.

‘So, what are you doing at school, then?’ George asked Ellie.

Ellie shot a look at me. She hated being asked things like that. ‘Lessons,’ she said.

‘Ellie!’ Mum said warningly.

‘Well, you know. Just the usual.’

‘Have you started your GCSEs yet?’ George asked pleasantly.