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Authors: Maggie Makepeace

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BOOK: Out of Step
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In the fresh lulls between showers, Nell went out and knelt awkwardly in the garden, planting bulbs for the spring. Her bulge got in the way, and her back hurt, but
she felt full of hope and driven by a desire to propagate as much life as she could.

The children, briefed by Cassie, commented on how fat she looked, so she let them feel the baby kicking and explained, as well as she was able, how it came to be there in the first place.

‘I know all about sex,’ Josh said loftily, ‘but what I want to know is,
who
did you have sex
with?’

Nell blushed. ‘Well, with Rob of course. Who else?’

‘Oh no,’ Josh was positive. ‘My dad wouldn’t do anything like
that.’

She and Rob laughed about it afterwards. ‘You will explain to Josh, won’t you?’ Nell urged him. ‘I want him to know that this baby belongs to you in exactly the same way he does.’

‘Of course I will, Miss…’ He stopped. ‘I can hardly call you Miss Dowsabel nowadays, can I? And Mrs D. sounds all wrong. What does he think?’ He rubbed her stomach proprietorially.

‘He likes it. What does it mean anyway? I’ve always meant to ask.’

‘I believe it’s the English form of the Latin name Dulcibella. It means sweetheart.’

‘That’s nice.’ Nell reached to kiss his cheek. ‘And you called me that right from the beginning?’

‘Before I knew your real name, yes.’

‘I called you Heathcliff!’ Nell grinned.

‘Oh, so you did notice me?’

‘Of course.’

‘Oh dear, that must be a bit of a letdown.’

‘Why?’

‘Well, I’m not exactly the rugged type, am I?’

‘You’ll do,’ Nell said, taking his hand and squeezing it.

It was obvious to her now that Cassie had been responsible for at least ninety per cent of the trouble in their marriage. Nell was convinced that, given a proper
chance, she and Rob would do much better. Soon, when the children were settled in their new home, he would get accustomed to the fact of their removal and ease into a regular routine for visiting them. It would be expensive, yes, but not prohibitive, and Nell vowed never to make a fuss about it. Then their relationship would settle down too, into comfortable familiarity. Maybe they would even get married. She wouldn’t hold her breath on that one though.

‘I think I’ll make green tomato and apple chutney,’ Rob volunteered unexpectedly one weekend.

‘Yes, do.’ Nell was amused and grateful, and remained so, even when the whole house stank of vinegar and spices.

The 17th November brought the first frost of autumn, and Rob began making porridge every morning for their breakfast. The cherry tree went golden yellow all over, and there were crowds of redwings close to the cottage, eating the hawthorn berries under cover of the morning mists. A pair of buzzards soared and dived over the valley, and Nell found forty ladybirds all hibernating together in a crevice outside her bedroom window. Life was gentle and full of discoveries.

‘Do you understand how I feel about Rosie and Josh?’ Nell asked Rob one evening, meaning to explain herself at last.

‘Well, naturally you don’t feel as strongly as I do. That’s quite understandable.’

‘No, you’re right.’

‘You’re good with them though.’

‘Am I? You’ve never said that before.’ Nell was surprised.

‘Oh yes, and they’re very fond of you.’

‘That’s nice.’ She felt pleased but perfidious.

‘So?’

‘Oh, it’s nothing.’ She couldn’t say it. It would only upset and antagonise him, and what good could it do?

The telephone rang. It was Elly.

‘Have a word with Nell,’ Rob said to her, passing over the receiver.

‘How’s it going?’ Elly asked.

‘Backache, constipation,
anticipation,’
Nell said cheerfully.

‘Not all bad then? Good for you.’

‘Not at all. Rob’s being a great help.’ She smiled at him as she spoke, and he responded by looking suitably modest. ‘How’s life with you? We missed you at half term.’

‘Yes, the boys had things to do in London – shame really. But we’re fine. I’ve been getting quite a lot of work, in fact, and Hat’s still a treasure.’

‘Have you heard from Paul?’

‘That’s what I’m ringing to tell you. He got in touch to speak to the boys and he’s in great form. Says he feels genuinely free for the first time in his life!’

‘And… you don’t mind that? I should have thought…’

Elly laughed, a deep-throated chuckle. ‘Wait, she said. ‘I haven’t told you the best bit yet.’

‘Go on then.’

‘It’s Anna. Paul says she’s driven him completely up the wall – or should that be up the hull? Honestly, I haven’t laughed so much in ages.’ Nell began to smile too, such was the infectiousness of Elly’s tone of voice. ‘But you’ll never guess what he’s finally gone and done?’ Elly said, exploding with mirth.

‘What?’

‘Dumped the stupid woman in the Azores!’

Chapter Twenty-Four

Rob’s father told him over the phone on 22nd December that he would be visiting Bottom Cottage for Christmas.

‘But why?’ Nell was horrified.

‘Well, we usually see each other sometime about then,’ Rob said. ‘It’s what families do.’

‘But where will he sleep? The children will be in the spare room.’

‘On the sitting-room floor. On the sofa cushions in a sleeping bag. It’s very comfortable, in fact. I’ve done it myself.’

‘Oh, Rob …’

‘What’s the problem?’

‘Well, it’s bad enough having to have Rosie and Josh when I’m feeling so huge and so tired, but Bert as well…’

‘He’ll help,’ Rob said, ‘He’ll take them off our hands some of the time. It’ll be easier, you’ll see.’

‘And what about food?’

‘We’ve got a turkey ordered, haven’t we? It’ll stretch to one more easily. You worry too much.’

But I’ll have to clean the house, Nell thought. He’ll be super-critical of everything, and I haven’t the energy … and we’ll need heaps more booze … and a gift for him … She felt defeated before she’d even begun. ‘I thought you didn’t like your father?’ she objected. ‘Especially after last year.’

‘I never said that.’ Rob was indignant. ‘It was Cassie who messed things up.’

‘Oh well, I expect we’ll manage.’ After all, Nell
admonished herself, if my parents were alive, I’d want them to come, wouldn’t I?

Bert arrived late on Christmas Eve, later than he had said he would. He was driving a flashy car, which turned out to have a boot full of fancily-wrapped presents. Nell went out with Rob to greet him and, seeing them in the light from the porch, was pleasantly surprised.

‘Clementines,’ he said, handing her a carrier bag. ‘And Rob, take this wine, would you. No kids?’

‘Asleep upstairs,’ Rob said. ‘Don’t bang the doors, eh?’

They helped him in with his things, and put his presents on top of the others under the Christmas tree in the sitting room.

‘I hope you’ll be all right on that?’ Nell asked, indicating the makeshift bed on the floor. ‘I’ve put a hot bottle in it.’

‘Positive luxury,’ Bert beamed. ‘You should see some of the places I’ve slept in my time. I think the worst was in a desert full of scorpions in North Africa! Freezing cold, it was. Did I ever tell you abut that, Rob?’

‘Once or twice.’ Rob smiled at Nell. ‘Have you eaten?’

‘Oh, don’t go to any trouble,’ Bert said cheerfully. ‘A light omelette would do just fine. Cheese and tomato for preference.’

Nell sighed audibly without really meaning to.

‘When’s it due?’ Bert asked, as though coming upon her condition unexpectedly.

‘Fortnight,’ Nell yawned. She could barely keep her eyes open.

‘Oh, it’ll be late,’ Bert said confidently. ‘First ones always are.’

God! Nell thought, I do hope not. But she smiled politely.

‘You get off to bed,’ Rob said to her unexpectedly. ‘We’ll manage.’

She went upstairs thankfully, cleaned her teeth,
undressed, and manoeuvred her large bulk into bed without washing. And she was just lapsing into blissful unconsciousness when Rob popped his head round the bedroom door. ‘Sorry,’ he said, ‘do we have any cheese?’

The children woke unnecessarily early on Christmas morning as always. Nell came to to the sound of Josh chanting,
‘Fat head, wet the bed! Fat head, wet the bed!’
and knew that Rosie would be goaded into retaliation at any moment. She nudged Rob. He had a happy knack of sleeping through mayhem, which Nell wished she could emulate.

‘Happy Christmas,’ she said into his ear. ‘Can you get up to prevent a murder?’

‘Whaaa…?’

‘In the children’s room. They’re awake and –’ The bedroom door burst open and someone came in. Nell switched on the bedside light. Josh was dragging a sheet behind him.

‘She’s done it again,’ he said, ‘and it’s Christmas Day!’ He sounded exactly like Cassie.

‘That’s unkind, Josh,’ Nell protested. ‘She can’t help it.’ Rosie stood sulkily in the doorway knuckling her eyes.

‘Guess what?’ Nell said, on sudden inspiration. ‘Your granddad’s down in the sitting room.’

‘Yeah!’ Josh dumped the smelly sheet, pushed Rosie aside and ran. Rosie bounced off the doorpost and clattered downstairs after him. Nell breathed a sigh of relief and closed her eyes again.

‘That was a bit inconsiderate, wasn’t it?’ Rob protested. So Nell began Christmas in the wrong, and her inner bells felt jangled not jingled.

‘There ought to be snow,’ Josh complained at breakfast in the kitchen, glowering through the window at the driving rain.’ ‘Snot fair!’

‘Life isn’t fair,’ Bert said, ‘but then again, why should it
be? There will always be some people better off than others,’ He smoothed his thick white hair, and put a lot of butter on his toast.

‘I want prethents,’ Rosie announced.

‘Go on then,’ Nell encouraged her. ‘Pop and get one for each of us, and we’ll open them now.’ Rosie disappeared into the next room with alacrity and was gone for some time. Scrabbling noises could be heard and mutterings as she read the labels, but when she reappeared she was carrying only one parcel. ‘Can’t find any.’ Her lower lip trembled.

‘Go and help her, Josh,’ Rob urged.

‘She can’t read!’ Josh taunted his sister. But he was gone for some time too, and when he came back he looked bewildered.

‘What’s up?’ Rob asked.

‘The presents,’ Josh said, ‘they’re all for
him.’
He pointed accusingly at his grandfather. Everyone turned to stare at him.

Bert looked entirely unabashed. ‘I get given so many,’ he explained modestly. ‘It would have been a waste to leave them all in London.’ He shrugged charmingly. ‘What’s a man to do?’

By lunchtime the family presents had been unearthed from beneath Bert’s pile, and the children were busy eating chocolate money from the tree, picking off the realistic gold wrappers and dropping them all over the floor. Nell, occupied in the kitchen, had detailed Rob to make sure they didn’t spoil their appetites for lunch, but he was deep in conversation with his father and, as she came into the sitting room to call them in to eat, she saw the evidence and sighed. She wondered whether Rosie or Josh had yet discovered the two real pound coins that she had slipped in amongst the chocolate ones, but so far neither of them had come running up to announce a happy find.

‘… I’ll have a word,’ Bert was saying to Rob. ‘I’m sure I can talk some sense into her. Unfortunately she hasn’t a cat’s chance in hell of getting back into television these days. She’s just too long in the tooth and too out of touch.’

‘And you’re going to tell her that?’ Rob snorted. ‘Rather you than me!’

‘Is this Cassie you’re discussing?’ Nell enquired, wiping her hands on her pinny.

‘Yes,’ Rob said, smiling. ‘Bert thinks he can persuade her to stay.’

‘Sadly, I’ve had a lot of experience of having to warn people off attempting to be actors or television presenters,’ Bert said, affecting weariness. ‘They come to me in droves expecting instant fame, and I just have to tell them life’s not like that.’

Except for you, of course, Nell thought, recognising the all-too-common scenario – successful people like Malachy/Bert trying their damnedest to prevent anyone else from sharing their good fortune:
I’m in, Jack. Pull up the drawbridge!
She hoped Cassie would have the wit to see through him too.

‘Would you come and get the turkey out of the oven?’ she asked Rob. ‘I’m about to dish up.’

‘Right then, kids,’ Bert said, clapping his hands. ‘Grub up! Get those paws washed pronto!’ and he swept the children before him into the kitchen.

Nell was relieved to find that the Christmas lunch looked fine. Everything had cooked properly and was ready at the right moment. She brushed the sweat from her brow with the hem of her apron and sank into a chair as Rob carried the crisp browned turkey to the table, and Bert prepared with a flourish of knife and steel to carve it. Bowls of vegetables steamed invitingly. Rich gravy, cranberry and bread sauces waited in a huddle with ladles at the ready. Bert lifted slices of turkey, spoonfuls of
stuffing and charred chipolatas on to warm plates and passed them round.

‘I don’t want any,’ Josh announced.

‘What on earth d’you mean?’ Nell asked, upset.

‘I don’t want this. I want sandwiches.’

‘Oh, Josh…’ Nell began.

‘Well, I suppose I could make you a turkey sandwich,’ Rob said. ‘If that’s what –’

‘What nonsense!’ Bert interrupted. ‘This is terrific food! And it’s all there is, so eat it or go without!’

He’s right, Nell thought with reluctant admiration, but he doesn’t understand what a bind Rob’s in. If children live with you all the time you can afford to be tough. But if they’ve got another home to go to, and you’re hard on them, then there’s always the fear that they might go there and never come back. I can see it so clearly from Rob’s point of view, so why can’t his father?

Josh held out for ten minutes, watching furiously as everyone ate.

‘Roast parsnips!’ Bert said rapturously. ‘Manna from heaven!’

‘Rob grew them,’ Nell said. ‘And they’ve been well frosted, which makes them sweet.’

‘Is that so?’ Bert queried. ‘I’ve never heard of that.’

‘Oh, yes,’ Rob assured him.

BOOK: Out of Step
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