Out of Step (32 page)

‘What?’ Cassie felt hope despite her rage.

‘You wants ter put your money where your mouf is, right? So go back to bloody London and effing well get yourself a job in sodding telly … if you’ve got the bottle for it, that is!’

Nell decided to go to the school parents’ day with Rob. It was time to come out, both about her status as Rob’s partner, and about her pregnancy. She put on her best maternity smock and some make-up and summoned up some of her old determination.

When they arrived, they found both children rushing about with their friends, and Cassie deep in discussion with a bored-looking Headmistress. Nell noticed that the Mad Cow was wearing a necklace of green beads. Surely not? she thought, frowning, but later on when she and Rob went over to talk to her, Nell saw that they were indeed made of malachite.

‘… I’m taking Josh to a psychiatrist,’ Cassie was informing Rob. ‘I’m worried about his nervous tic and I’m convinced he’s got ADD.’

‘ADD?’

‘Attention Deficit Disorder, surely even you must know about that?’

‘Well, why don’t you try giving him some more attention?’

‘Are you trying to be thick, or does it just come naturally? It’s nothing to do with
giving
him attention – it’s that he can’t
pay
attention for the normal length of time. He needs professional help. I was just telling Mrs Whatsit…’ She looked around for the Head, but she was now some distance away talking animatedly to someone else. ‘Oh, and I’ve arranged music lessons for him on
Saturday mornings,’ Cassie said, ‘so he won’t be able to go to the cottage until just before lunch.’ Then she noticed Nell in detail for the first time, and her eyes widened. Nell smiled at her with a slight lift to one eyebrow.

‘Good God!’ Cassie exclaimed. ‘Some people don’t waste much time! I do hope you aren’t thinking of giving up work? There’s little enough money in this so-called extended family as it is.’

‘I’m sure we’ll manage,’ Nell said, steely.

‘Oh, and while we’re on the subject of work,’ Cassie said offhandedly to Rob, ‘I’ve decided it’s nonsense to expect to get any worthwhile employment down here in the sticks, so in the New Year the children and I are moving house.’

‘Where to?’ Rob caught her arm.

‘Why, London, of course. Where else?’ She shook him off.

‘You can’t do that!’ They glared at each other.

‘I’m not prepared to discuss it here,’ Cassie said, closing her eyes very deliberately, head back, and then opening them again languidly. ‘All right?’

Nell glanced at Rob’s horrified face and felt sorry for him, but she couldn’t prevent her heart from lightening.

‘But before we move,’ Cassie said, ‘there’s things of mine you’ve still got, and I want them back.’

Rob was clearly averse to making a scene in public. His voice was studiedly neutral. ‘You got the carpet, didn’t you? What more?’

‘They were on that list I gave you over a year ago, but I suppose you’ve conveniently lost it?’

‘Write it out again,’ Rob said, ‘give me back my photographs, and you’ve got a deal.’

‘Typical!’ Cassie snapped. ‘Why do I bother?’ and she went off in a huff to collar another member of staff.

Rob and Nell found Josh and Rosie and got them to introduce them to their form teachers. Sitting at low
tables in rooms with walls covered in childish writings and drawings, Nell found it hard to concentrate, and equally difficult to stop smiling dreamily.

When they finally got home again, Rob was scratchy and irritable. ‘Trust the Mad Cow to drop a bombshell on me in front of everybody, where I couldn’t have it out with her,’ he complained. ‘She can’t just take my children away like that. How would I ever see them? It’d cost a fortune in petrol to be up and down to flaming London all the time!’ He stopped and glanced at Nell. ‘What’s so funny?’

‘Sorry,’ Nell composed her face. ‘You just reminded me of something I heard on the radio this morning. This man was talking about some crisis about to hit the government and he said, “This is a ticking time bomb, which we have got to get a grip of” …’

‘This is serious, Nell,’ Rob said, with a dismissive gesture. ‘I shall have to find out whether I can legally stop her from going, but whatever happens it will cause no end of a fuss.’ He ran a hand through his hair, and took a handful of it as if to tear it out.

‘I’m sorry,’ Nell said hastily, touching his arm. She felt genuinely sorry for him, but an unwonted sensation kept creeping in and overtaking everything as she contemplated a future with Rob and the baby – and no one else. She welcomed that feeling like a long-lost friend. It was deliverance.

August had been uncharacteristically dry, and as uncomfortable as the previous months. September so far appeared to be no better. Nell was philosophical about her misfortune to be pregnant during the hottest summer for three hundred years, and grateful to Sibyl for suggesting that she work mornings only at ARTFUL
^L
for one more month, before stopping altogether. So now, thankfully, she spent a lot of her time indoors with an electric fan for company, only venturing out of the cottage in the blessed cool of the evening to wander by the river and wonder about the baby. She had taken to referring to it as ‘him’ whenever she discussed it with Rob, in order to hoodwink the contrary fates. And because she had begun to feel more hopeful about the future, she came to appreciate that Rob was as excited as she was about their forthcoming child. He started to accompany her on her evening walks, helping her over the stiles and being generally attentive. And now that there was a real prospect of his children moving away, Nell felt much more relaxed when they visited at weekends. It was as though a life sentence had been commuted.

She felt less disturbed by Cassie as well, since she would soon be removing her malign influence to another sphere. Nell looked forward to being able to walk around the whole of Boxcombe without having to look over her shoulder in case the Mad Cow was observing her. I really have been paranoid about her, she thought shamefacedly. How silly!

She asked Rob about Cassie’s malachite necklace, when
they were on a walk together. ‘She wears it on purpose,’ he said, ‘to annoy me.’

‘So Bert did give it to her?’

‘Oh yes.’

‘But not for the usual reason?’

‘Who knows? He gave it to her when Josh was born, but I wouldn’t put anything past her.’

‘You’re joking! But presumably she wouldn’t have had the opportunity to sleep with him anyway?’

‘On the contrary,’ Rob said, ‘when we were first married she was still working for television. She used to go up to London regularly to record the programmes, and she always stayed overnight at Bert’s house.’

‘So she knows him well then? You never said.’

‘Well, you never asked.’

Nell felt unreasonably jealous, considering that she didn’t even
like
Rob’s father. ‘And is Bert fond of her?’ Why was she asking this?

‘Oh, yes. He thinks she’s wonderful.’

‘Oh.’ Nell was silenced.

‘I think I may have thought of one way to scupper the bloody woman’s plans for moving,’ Rob said, stooping down and picking up a smooth stone from the river bank.

‘How?’

‘Well, she’s clearly hoping the financial settlement will be through by the New Year, so she can make a clean break and start afresh in London.’

‘Ye… es?’

‘So it’s obvious,’ Rob said, throwing the stone with a flick of the wrist so that it skimmed the surface of the water, bouncing four times before sinking from view. ‘I can just stall and stall so she doesn’t get the money she wants, at the time she wants it!’ He picked up another stone, crouched, and got five bounces. ‘Why on earth is this called ducks and drakes?’ he asked, smiling up at her.

*

On 15th September the rain began in earnest, and looked to be settled in for a season. Josh and Rosie arrived for the weekend, Josh in new pale beige suede shoes which were already soaked through and stained.

Very practical! Nell thought, glancing down from the stove where she was preparing lunch. ‘Right,’ she said, ‘this is ready. Time to wash your hands.’

‘We always have sandwiches for lunch,’ Josh said, squishing the soap between his hands so that it skittered across the draining board and landed on the floor.

‘So, what d’you have for supper?’

‘Thandwiches,’ Rosie giggled, giving it a kick. ‘That thoaps all furry!’

Nell bent, picked it up and washed the dust off under the tap. ‘You must have proper meals sometimes,’ she said, and thought, I sound just like my my mother!

Rob came in with an armful of firewood and dropped it into the basket, brushing the sawdust off his jumper. ‘Ah,’ he said, ‘food! That smells good. Come on, you two.’ He sat down at the table looking expectant.

‘Smells like poo,’ Josh said, looking sideways at Nell as she put his lunch in front of him.

‘Sssshhh,’ Rob said. ‘You know that’s not true.’

‘Pooh, pooh, pooh, pooh…’ Rosie chanted in an undertone.

‘That means you too, Rosie.’

‘What’s this?’ Josh asked, prodding a boiled potato disdainfully with the prongs of his fork. ‘And why are we having soup all over it?’

Nell looked hard at him. It appeared to be a genuine question. ‘It’s not soup,’ she said patiently. ‘It’s gravy, and it’s what you have on meat and potatoes to make them tasty.’
What does Cassie feed them on?
She glanced interrogatively at Rob across the table and he made a
God knows!
sort of face.

‘What’s for pud?’ Rosie mumbled with her mouth full.

‘Blackberry and apple crumble. I picked the blackberries this morning.’

‘Yummy.’

‘My mum says you shouldn’t eat wild blackberries because the flies spit all over them,’ Josh said, ‘and they get full of maggots.’

‘No, that’s much later in the season. They’re all new and fresh and delicious now.’ Horrible child!

‘How are your music lessons going, Josh?’ Rob asked.

‘Great. Mrs thing says I’m a natural.’ He swung the top half of his body from side to side as though acknowledging the applause of an enthusiastic audience. ‘Bet you can’t play the violin?’ he challenged Nell.

‘I don’t know,’ she said, remembering an old joke. ‘I’ve never tried.’ But it was lost on Josh.

‘Reasonable weekend?’ Sibyl asked as she arrived at ARTFUL
^L
on Monday morning.

‘So, so,’ Nell said. ‘It’s been wonderfully cool and wet at long last, hasn’t it? We stayed indoors all Saturday and were reduced to playing Happy Families.’

‘Good fun?’

‘Yes, except that Josh just has to win, so he cheats quite blatantly! I was always brought up to be strictly truthful, so it’s off-putting to say the least. Then on Sunday we went out for a walk in the rain and looked for conkers, so that was better, except that Rosie has taken to holding her nose every time she passes a cowpat.’

Sibyl smiled. ‘You sound more relaxed about things.’

‘Yes, we had some laughs. You should have seen Josh trying to eat sweetcorn with half his baby teeth missing!’

‘I knew you’d settle down to it in time,’ Sibyl said comfortably, opening the till and emptying bags of small change into it.

‘Well, I’m sure I will, when Cassie moves,’ Nell said. ‘I hope to God she does, though. That’s the trouble.’

‘What is?’

‘Well, I want them to go, but Rob is desperate for them to stay, so it doesn’t make for a very united front. I wish I could get him to see it from my point of view, but I haven’t even tried. For some reason I feel I don’t have the right…’

Sibyl went to change the sign on the shop door to ‘Open’. ‘I know what you mean,’ she said. ‘It’s a ticklish subject.’

Nell was encouraged to unburden herself. ‘I suppose I feel that now I’ve taken Rob and the children on, I have a duty to see it through. But I just wish he’d be more open to discussing things with me. He takes it for granted that I think the same way he does. He doesn’t seem to have come across
empathy
as a necessary accomplishment – pity I can’t get him to go to evening classes on the subject!’

‘Ah, well… you know what they say,’ Sibyl warned. ‘You shouldn’t try to teach a pig to sing. It never works, and it annoys the pig.’

Nell laughed. ‘You mean it’s useless to try and change people?’

‘That’s about it.’

‘So what
do
you do?’

‘Well, I suppose you have to keep attempting to talk everything through as much as possible, and eventually when you come up against the immutable, you just have to learn not to mind.’

The rains continued and Nell observed with fascination the speed at which the countryside greened over again. Grass seemed to have supernatural powers of recuperation. She was glad not to have to keep on watering her precious plants by hand, now that God had taken over and seemed to be doing a much better job of it. She lay in bed after Rob had got up, listening to the raindrops
beating against the windows, and smiling to herself. The news was full of the
‘Is this really the end of the drought?’
story, with reports of a fleet of tankers still attempting to fill up one spectacularly empty reservoir from another in a more favoured part of the country.

Nell remembered the time she had driven along the top road – almost exactly two years ago – and had first seen the two chimneys of Bottom Cottage emerging through the trees. She had felt as parched and brittle inside as the surrounding fields were then. She had wanted so much that seemed unattainable … And now she had got it all – or nearly all.

And the rain was coming down steadily, and all the latent fecundity of a hot summer was now realising its potential by swelling into fruits. The Bramley in the garden was bent double with flushed green apples. The oaks were dotted all over with acorns, and coiled ropes of ripening black bryony berries now decorated the hedgerows. Nell felt at one with the world around her, and content. The distant bellowing of a recently calved cow, dispossessed and calling for her lost bull-calf, was the only sadness. It caused her a pang of understanding for Rob, and reminded her again of how fortunate she was.

With the new-found luxury of free afternoons, she had time to watch the season slide irrevocably into autumn; the swallows collecting, twittering, on the telegraph wires one week, and then mysteriously gone the next; the harsh chattering
Tchak tchak tchak!
calls of the fieldfares in the tallest trees, signalling their passage from Scandinavia to winter in softer climes; and the sun slipping ever southwards behind the hill, so that eventually on the shortest day it would rise from the sea behind the dunes.