Out of Step (21 page)

‘You’re kidding?’ Anna was astonished.

‘I’ll kill him! To think I entertained the gutless bastard on my houseboat, and all the time he was…’He stopped.

‘Our
special hideaway houseboat, darling,’ Anna reminded him gently.

‘Anyway,’ Paul said shortly, ‘sorry and all that, but you can imagine how I feel, and it certainly isn’t festive.’

‘But, Paul, can’t you see? This is our big chance. You’ve always said your marriage to Ermintrude was a sham. This could be the perfect solution. Now you and I can –’

‘Eleanor is my
wife,’
Paul shouted. ‘Surely you can appreciate what that means to me. I’m sorry … I’m too upset…
too
angry … I’ll call again when things have calmed down.’

‘You can’t mean –’ Anna began, but he’d put the phone down. She felt mortally wounded, and at the same time outraged by his double standards. She didn’t know what to think. In a daze she saw his present still lying in its golden Christmas paper on the table. She unwrapped it. It was a box of chocolates.

Mic had been looking forward to having Christmas in a proper house with all the trimmings. She was well aware that she would be expected to do most of the cooking, but accepted it as the price she had to pay for comfort and security. She had however reckoned without Josh and Rosie being there too. This was the year they were supposed to go with their dad to London for Christmas
with their flash granddad (and bloody good luck to them). But at the last minute, Josh had refused to go, and Rosie couldn’t be persuaded to go without him – understandable really. So there Mic was, lumbered again.

Mornings were always her best time; Gavin, half asleep, would climb into bed with her and they’d have a cuddle and discuss the day ahead, and she would privately wonder what sort of mood Cassie would turn out to be in – better these days, since her four weeks of intensive therapy. Today it had all begun much too early, inevitably so. Gavin had woken in high excitement at five o’clock and had roused her by trying to pull her eyelids up.

‘Mum!’
he’d said urgently. ‘Open your eyes! ‘SChristmas!’

‘Gerrof!’ Mic groaned, burying her face in the pillow. ‘Too early.’

‘But I want ter open me presents.’ He pulled the bulging sock up the bed towards her.

Mic squinted blearily at the clock.’ ‘Snot morning for a nuvver two hours yet. Ger in, and we’ll have the rest of our kip together, yeah?’

‘Oh, Mum…’

‘Come on. I mean it.’ Gavin climbed into bed and settled down with reasonable grace, with his back to her. Mic rested her chin on his tousled ginger head, and was just about to drop off again when the door burst open and an ear-splitting cacophony of football rattle and overblown penny whistle blasted her into total wakefulness.

‘Yoo hoo!’ Josh cried. ‘Look what I’ve got!’

‘An’ me, an’ me!’ Rosie was right behind him and together they bounced onto Mic’s bed, waving their instruments.

“Snot fair,’ Gavin protested, struggling out from Mic’s embrace and sitting up. ‘They’ve ‘ad their presents and I ‘aven’t.’

‘Not all of them,’ Josh boasted. ‘I’ve got loads more. I bet I’ve got squillions more than you have!’

‘That’s enough,’ Mic said sternly. ‘It’s way too early. Back to bed the pair of you, and don’t come in ‘ere till seven. Right?’

‘But it’s Christmas,’ Josh complained. ‘We always get up early.’

‘Well, I don’t,’ Mic said. ‘I needs me beauty sleep. Off you go. You too, Rosie. An’ settle down, Gav.’ She watched through half-closed eyes as they trailed out again. Gawd, she thought, it ain’t half hard work disciplining those two, but I reckon I could still win. All I need is a bit of backup from you know who …

The bedroom door burst open again. ‘What did I say?’ Mic demanded furiously, sitting bolt upright in bed. ‘I said don’t come back until seven o’clock!’

‘When the little hand’th on theven and the big hand’th on twelve,’ Rosie supplied helpfully.

‘Right.’

‘Well, it is,’ Josh said, holding up the battered nursery clock with its front glass missing, and showing her his handiwork with pride.

Mic was torn between sighing and wanting to laugh. ‘You have to wait for it to ‘appen, dumbo! Just pushing the hands round don’t make the time pass, do it? An’ it wrecks the clock an’ all! So, go away, yeah?’

‘Mum told us to come in here,’ Josh said sulkily. ‘She says she’s got a headache and mustn’t be disturbed. She said we could open some more presents with you.’ He was pulling a loaded pillowcase behind him.

Oh terrific! Mic thought. Thank you, Cassie! A compromise seemed to be the only way out. ‘Well, not in here, right? You two take ’em downstairs, and me and Gav’ll get dressed and get down quick’s we can. Off wiv yer.’

Gavin raised a clenched fist. ‘Yeah!’

‘An’ you can leave that out an’ all,’ said his mother.

Cassie did not appear downstairs until eleven o’clock, by which time Josh was tearful in his thwarted desire to show her his presents and get her to help him play with them. They were, in Mic’s opinion, too pricey, too breakable, needing too many batteries, and would most likely run out of power before their owner could yell, ‘Hey! Give us that back!’ She had tried hard to be as equitable as possible, giving all three children similar toys, but Cassie hadn’t attempted to disguise her favouritism, and her presents were all too obviously ranked in the order of her affections: big for Josh, middling for Rosie, and tiny for Gavin.

Mic’s heart went out to her son. She was torn between trying to pretend that everything was fair, in order to bolster his self-esteem, or sympathising with him, which was more honest but which might make him feel even worse.

‘Knock knock,’ Gavin said stoically, toughing it out.

‘Who’th there?’ Rosie chanted obediently.

‘Scott.’

Thcott who?’

‘Sgot nothing to do with you!’

Cassie put on her Lady Bountiful act at lunchtime, and produced an expensive confection awash with fruit and cream, from a box Mic had overlooked. ‘Marks & Spark’s best,’ she said proudly. ‘And so much lighter and easier to eat than the usual figgy stodge, don’t you think? That stuff lies like lead on your stomach for hours, not that I ever have room for it, of course.’

‘So how do you know, then?’ Mic muttered sotto voice, moving the steamer containing the pudding she had bought as a contribution off the heat.

What am I doing here? she asked herself, not for the first time. Being taken for a ride, that’s what!

After lunch she had planned to take Gavin to see her mother, just the two of them, and had deliberately not
mentioned this to Cassie, knowing from experience how she tended to hijack such plans. Mic now decided to be assertive. After all, it was Christmas Day.

But Cassie got in first. ‘Oh dear,’ she sighed, within moments of her last mouthful, ‘I think I can feel my migraine coming on again. I’m afraid I’ll have to desert you all once more. I’m so sorry.’ She got up.

‘Hang on a minute,’ Mic objected. ‘Gav and me are off to me mum’s for a bit. I promised her we’d go today.’

‘But of course,’ Cassie said generously, at once. ‘Then you must see her. I expect Josh and Rosie would love to go along too, wouldn’t you? I’m sure she’ll have one of her little presents for you both.’ She smiled bravely at her children and then at Mic. ‘That’s a lovely idea of yours, Mic. They’re always telling me how fond they are of Granny Potton.’

Nell hadn’t reckoned on having Elly with her as well as Sibyl on their journey home on Boxing Day; an Elly moreover who had become seriously deflated since the previous day. They had all gone to Heathrow to see Paul and the two boys off to Switzerland, and after the plane had taken off, Elly went all weepy and announced that she was leaving Paul’s car in the long-stay car park, and coming home with them both.

‘I can’t bear to be alone,’ she wept in Nell’s car.

‘Here,’ Sibyl said, leaning forward and offering her a lacy handkerchief.

‘I’ve never left Paul in charge of the boys before,’ Elly sniffed, taking it and clutching it to her mouth with one hand. ‘How can I be sure they’ll be safe?’

‘Well, he takes his pupils on school trips,’ Nell said reasonably. ‘He’s very responsible.’ When he’s not sailing.

‘I didn’t mean it to happen like this,’ Elly said, ‘I really didn’t. I was going to go on the skiing holiday and then
break it to him in the New Year, but then Malachy told me he’s going abroad, filming for most of January, and I suddenly couldn’t bear…’ She was crying again. ‘I’m so … sorry… if I ruined your Christmas.’

‘You did rather,’ Sibyl observed from the back seat. ‘How about stopping for a coffee at the next opportunity, Nell?’

‘Good idea,’ Nell said, but she was thinking: I can’t put it off any longer. It would be much too cowardly to break it to her over the phone.

At the service station they carried coffee for three, and Bath buns for two on a tray to a window table and sat down. Nell and Sibyl ate the buns and had milk in their coffee. Elly sat, tragic but dry-eyed, sipping hers black and without eating. ‘You both blame me, don’t you?’ she asked.

‘No, darling,’ Sibyl said. ‘I’ve seen this coming for quite some time, but I must confess it isn’t turning out quite as I’d imagined.’

‘Actually, I think it is,’ Nell said. Sibyl raised her eyebrows. Nell braced herself. ‘Would you be surprised if Paul was having an affair too?’ she asked Elly.

‘Amazed!’ Elly snorted. ‘Who’d have him?’ Then she saw Nell’s expression and frowned. ‘D’you know something that I don’t?’

‘Well, I suspect something, yes,’ Nell said, fudging and despising herself for it.

‘Paul? Having an affair?’ Elly seemed mildly amused.

‘Yes.’

‘Who with?’

‘Strangely enough a woman who swims at the same pool as me. She’s called Anna Smith.’

Elly frowned again. ‘The name seems familiar. Didn’t she used to teach at Paul’s school?’

‘She is a teacher, yes.’

‘Thought so,’ Sibyl muttered. ‘Explains so much.’

‘Hang on a minute,’ Elly said. ‘How long has this been going on?’

‘I’m not sure.’ Nell blushed.

‘It started well before Malachy and me, didn’t it?’ Elly was staring at her.

‘Probably,’ Nell said feebly.

‘But don’t you see,’ Elly said, getting heated. ‘Don’t you see where this leaves me? Paul is going to feel fully justified in blaming me for our break-up now, when all along he’s been screwing some slag. The incredible hypocrite! No wonder I was driven into Malachy’s arms.’

‘But you didn’t know then,’ Nell protested, confused.

‘No, you should have told me!’ Elly flashed back. ‘Both of you. Look at the position you’ve put me in now. Even my boys think it’s all my fault. How could you do that to me?’

‘We were hoping it wasn’t true,’ Sibyl said.

‘You’ve talked about it behind my back?’

‘No,’ Nell said. ‘Honestly, we haven’t.’

‘Oh well,’ Elly said sighing, and then disconcertingly upbeat: ‘at least I won’t have to feel guilty now. Damn! I do wonder where Malachy is. I assumed that he and Rob and the kids would have been at his house yesterday and I was going to give him a nice surprise, but I rang and rang and all I got was his bloody answerphone.’

‘Aren’t you supposed to be meeting some American friend at his house this week?’ Nell asked. ‘I mean, that was the reason you didn’t go ski –’

‘So I lied,’ Elly interrupted irritably. ‘I’m not proud of that, OK? The friend’s coming over at the beginning of February.’

‘But why –’ Sibyl began.

‘Because I needed some space. Because I was fed up with Paul. Because I wanted to see Malachy. Why d’you think? How was I to know he’d do a disappearing act?’

‘Maybe because he thinks you’re in Switzerland,’ Nell pointed out reasonably.

‘I’ll get in touch with him soon,’ Elly said. ‘Oh hell! I shouldn’t be going home with you at all today. I should be staying in London. But after Paul and the boys left, somehow I just couldn’t face you two going as well…’ She began to cry again.

‘It’s all right,’ Sibyl said, patting her shoulder comfortingly. ‘You need a day or two with no pressure to sort yourself out. Perhaps when they get back from skiing –’

‘No.’ Elly said, blowing her nose fiercely. ‘It’s finished. I’ve made up my mind.’

‘And Malachy?’ Nell asked.

‘He really loves me, Nell, and he’s great with the boys.’ She managed a tremulous smile. ‘It’ll all work out, you see.’

After the coffee break, they journeyed doggedly westward and Nell, who was beginning to feel worn out, was grateful that it was a neutral grey day; ideal for driving. After several hours she dropped her passengers off at Sibyl’s house and headed thankfully for Bottom Cottage.

Rob was there before her. She saw his Land Rover as she got to the end of her lane. Then the front door opened and he was standing there, smiling.

‘Oh, Rob,’ she cried. ‘I can’t tell you how glad I am to be home!’ She got stiffly out of her car and walked towards him.

‘Was it rough?’ he asked.

‘Ghastly. How about you?’

‘A complete washout,’ he admitted.

‘Oh! I’m so sorry. God, I’m absolutely exhausted.’

Rob came forward and put both arms around her in a bear hug.

‘Better now?’ he asked.

Over the last weekend in January, when Josh and Rosie visited Bottom Cottage, Rob made boats for them out of odds and ends of wood nailed together, and quarter-filled the bath with tepid water for them to float on. Nell was downstairs in the kitchen washing up the lunch things when there was a crash, the sound of thudding feet and Rosie’s voice raised in protest. Nell looked up from the dishwater, expecting to hear Rob’s voice, but then saw him outside the window, fetching firewood, and thought perhaps she should go and see what they were up to. She met Rosie on the stairs, carrying two small damp contraptions which were both dripping water freely. The front of her red dungarees was sopping wet, and she looked sulky.

‘Joth keepth thinking my boat. Not playing.’

Nell could hear Rob downstairs, filling up the log basket. ‘Why don’t you go down and see your daddy?’ she suggested. Rosie stumped on down. Nell put her head round the bathroom door to find out what Josh was doing. He had a handful of glass marbles and he was standing up and balancing on top of the bath with his feet beside the taps, and throwing them one at a time onto the remaining boats below him. The bath was very nearly full of water and at each hit, more of it splashed over the edge on to the swimming floor.