The School Gates (2 page)

‘Morning Mo,’ Joan greeted her neighbour cheerfully, then realised she looked even sadder than usual.

‘Boys, come back here a minute,’ she commanded. As her sons pedalled back to her side, she murmured, ‘Are you OK, love?’

‘Fine, fine,’ her rotund friend replied, already puffing from such a short walk.

‘Now, I know that means you’re not. You off to work this morning?’

‘On a morning shift. Supposed to be at the surgery for eight-thirty,’ Mo sighed.

‘You’ve still got fifteen minutes, so why don’t you head straight there and Rosie can come to school with us. How about that, Rosie? You can sit on my seat and I’ll push you all along.’

‘Yeah! Can I, Mummy? Please, can I?’

‘Yeah, yeah!’ Cissy gurgled, trying to copy her.

‘As long as you’re sure, Joan.’

‘Don’t be daft, of course I’m sure. One extra makes no difference to me. I’ll see you at the school gates later. We can have a proper catch-up then.’

– Tommy’s Mum –

‘I’m out for dinner with clients tonight, so can you drop me at the station before taking Tommy to school?’ Mark asked, putting his newspaper down and pushing back his dark floppy fringe. His evident crow’s feet betrayed his thirty-five years but he was still a very handsome man.

‘Course I can, but we’d better get a move on. Tommy, you ready, my darleen?’ A glimmer of Dana’s Czech accent could be heard as she shouted up the stairs.

Her cute son appeared, long mousy locks needing a brush, grey school jumper on back to front, his head in his portable computer console.

‘Here, let me brush your hair. I don’t think Mr Chambers will like you looking like a hippy.’

‘But, Mum!’

‘Yes, Mum, don’t you mean?’ Dana swiftly turned his jumper around the right way and combed through his hair.

‘Right, coat on, Tommy Knight. No packed lunch today as you said you fancied school dinner this week. Chicken pasta – yum, sounds nice.’

‘Sounds yuk, but Joshua P is having it too.’ Tommy stuck his finger in his nose, and his mother immediately pulled it away.

As Dana revved up the 4 x 4 on the drive, she lamented the fact that their car was so eco-unfriendly, but Mark insisted on the recommendation of a Top Wheels television presenter that this was the car to be seen in, so he just had to have it.

‘Hurry up, Daddy,’ the six year old piped up, as his father dived into the passenger seat, briefcase in hand. Then, ‘Mummy?’

‘Yes, darleen?’

‘Eliska told me yesterday that her mummy has an old pear, and that you used to be an old pear once too.’

Mark laughed. ‘It’s au pair, Tommy – and yes, Mum did used to be one.’

‘What does an old pear do?’ the inquisitive little boy continued.

‘Looks after children and cleans the house. Not much different from being a mum really,’ Mark chipped in.

‘Oi, you.’ Dana poked her husband in the ribs, feeling slightly narked at his comment, and even more so that the snooty Alana Murray should be discussing their private lives.

‘So whose children did you look after then, Mum?’

Dana raised her eyebrows. This was getting far too complicated and she didn’t feel that her son was quite ready to know the ins and outs of how her parents had got together.

Just then, they arrived at the train station.

‘Right, we’re here now,’ she said, relieved to put a stop to the conversation.

‘Have a good day, angel cheeks. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do,’ Mark Knight said to his pretty petite wife, kissing her on the forehead as he did so, then adding, ‘And don’t forget to pick up my dry cleaning, will you. Oh, and I need a couple of shirts ironed.’

He went to the back door of the car and opened it. ‘And as for you, mister, be good at school.’ He reached in and tweaked Tommy’s cheek.

Old pear, Dana thought as she drove away. More like des-pair, at her boring day ahead.

– The Twins’ Daddy –

The radio in the smart chrome and black kitchen blared out the latest and greatest hits from Madonna. Gordon Summers, a well – groomed thirty year old with wavy dark brown hair and pecs to die for, began to dance around the kitchen.

‘Oh Lily! Oh Lola!’ he called. ‘Daddy Gordy has got the best breakfast ready for you both – pancakes and maple syrup and a strawberry smoothie, no less.’

Whilst he was wondering how Mads could possibly look so good in her fifties, he heard the feet of his six-year-old twin charges running towards the kitchen of the modern three-bedroomed flat. He turned the radio down.

‘I knew that would get you moving,’ he laughed as the four blue eyes, one pair encased in bright red spectacles, looked back at him over the breakfast table.

‘This is toast and honey,’ Lily said sternly.

‘And this is strawberry milkshake out of a bottle,’ Lola added. ‘You lied; we’re not allowed to lie.’

‘OK. So it’s nearly your favourites.’

‘Soooo not funny,’ Lily remonstrated. ‘But on this occasion you’re lucky, as I like toast and honey.’ She pushed her glasses up on to her nose.

‘Where’s Daddy Chris this morning anyway?’ Lola asked

‘He’s gone to look after the passengers on the planes, today and tomorrow.’

‘Oh OK,’ the twins said in unison.

Gordon looked at them lovingly as they munched on their toast. His girls were easily distinguishable, as bespectacled Lily insisted on a short fringed crop like her favourite television character, and Lola wanted ‘the longest hair in the world’.

‘Now, I’ve made you your packed lunches.’

‘If you haven’t been shopping, please don’t tell us it’s peanut butter and jelly sandwiches again,’ Lily smirked.

‘Jam, not jelly, Lily. You’ve got an apple and yoghurt too though,’ Gordon replied hurriedly. ‘But I solemnly promise I will go to the supermarket later, and we’ll be back on our “five a day” as usual.’

“And before you say it, I know you’re not allowed peanut butter at school, but just eat them discreetly and stay away from Ralph Weeks. If you set off his allergy we’ll all be in trouble.’

Lola got up from her seat and walked round to where her father was packing their school bags. She put her arms around his legs and squeezed him tight.

‘I love you, Daddy Gordy. Even if we have only got stinky sandwiches today.’

‘And I love you too, Lola and Lily Summers.’

‘Erg. You’re both so soppy,’ Lily interjected.

Gordon, ever the emotional, sniffed loudly and dabbed his eyes with some kitchen roll.

‘Right, you ready for school, ladies?’

‘We haven’t cleaned our teeth yet,’ they said in unison.

‘Oh yes, silly Daddy Gordy. Use your teeth-timers, then we must get going.’ Gordon looked at the clock; it was time to leave for school. No doubt all the usual gang would be there – his favourite and not-so favourite mums and dads – and there might just be time for a chat at the school gates.

– Chapter One –

Gordon, Lily and Lola were singing and gyrating along to a Top Ten girl-band track, when they pulled up at the school gates.

Eliska Murray banged on the car window and stuck her tongue out at the twins. Lily pushed her face right up against the glass and poked hers right back.

‘Eliska called me “four-eyes” yesterday,’ she grumbled.

‘Did she indeed,’ Gordon replied. ‘Well, if she says it again, tell her you’ve only got to wear glasses till you’re ten, but sadly, she’ll always be a ginger.’

The twins giggled, and pushed their way out of their dad’s blue and white Mini Cooper.

It was a windy day and some of the children were already running around the playground throwing big handfuls of red and golden leaves at each other. Eliska had already charged up the drive towards school.

‘Morning, Inga sweetie – and how was the wicked witch this morning?’ Gordon greeted the pretty au pair.

‘Witchier than usual, if that’s possible. Luckily my bus didn’t come so soon, so I only was with her for five minutes. You work today?’

‘No. Two days off now. Bliss.’ Gordon smiled broadly, showing off his perfect set of white veneers.

‘Doing something nice?’

‘Chores, darling, chores,’ he waved his arm in the air.

‘Elocution lessons, then supermarket, then the gym to pump up the pecs, then back to pick up the munchkins.’

He realised the girls were still at his legs, waiting for him to say goodbye.

‘Bless you, gorgeous ones. Now kisses for Daddy Gordy before you go.’ He leaned down and planted a smacker on them both.

‘Yuk!’ the girls said in unison, wiping their mouths with the back of their hands.

‘Year Two is great – so much better not having to take them right up to the door if we don’t want to. Soon I’ll be pulling up and just throwing them out of the car,’ Gordon joked, but watching that the twins reached their class safely.

‘You are a naughty man. But yes, we wouldn’t have to talk to anyone we liked not a lot either. Talking of which...’ Inga faked a wide smile at the approaching whirlwind.

‘Oh Gordon, so glad I’ve caught you,’ gushed Emily Pritchard – Head of PTA, Netball Coach and Mother of Joshua P, seven, chief swot and playground kisser. She pouted her trout, allowing Inga to notice that she’d had further Botox in her forehead. Waves of dyed blonde hair bobbed around her face.

‘I was helping out at netball yesterday and noticed that Lola showed great promise.’ She batted her false eyelashes and continued: ‘We need a new team for this term and I would love her to join in.’

‘What about Lily?’ Gordon asked.

‘Oh, I think she would be far more suited to something a little less active, like Reading Club maybe.’

Inga disguised her snort of laughter as a cough.

‘Well, ya know, Emily, that’s just great news,’ Gordon humoured the woman. ‘I’ll see what Lola says tonight and let you know. Maybe I can get Lily to read up on it too.’

‘Lovely, perfect. By the way, great hair, Inga! Did you cut

it yourself? Toodle oo!’ And with a flick of her hair and a wobble of her bosom, Emily headed off to her convertible which was parked in its usual prime position, near to the school gates.

‘That fuckeeng bitch,’ Inga spat, but then had to laugh as Gordon was in hysterics, saying, ‘I guess at least she makes your Alana look like an angel.’

Gordon loved Featherstone Primary and all it stood for. Situated in a residential No Through Road on the outskirts of the town of Denbury, it retained a village ‘small school’ feel. With just the one set of school gates and a fairly long drive, he felt it was a safe haven for his precious girls.

The building itself was nothing spectacular – brick-built, on one level only; modern and open-plan. It was home to just 150 pupils based in six classes, with a Headmistress, seven teachers and four teaching assistants.

As well as the spacious teaching areas, the school housed a multi-purpose dining area, a large assembly/sports hall and a quiet/play room for the little ones. Sport was high on the agenda, and as well as the indoor sports hall, there was also a playground/netball court and two large fields for other outdoor sports. Plus, after many successful fund-raising efforts by the active Parent Teacher Association, the children were also lucky enough to have use of a swimming pool in the summer.

It was as good as any private school in the area, and everyone who lived in Denbury wanted their children to go there.

One minute to spare before assembly, and there was the commotion of the Brown family arriving. Joan cycled as fast as she could up the drive with her boys pedalling furiously behind her.

‘Quick! Helmets off, boys, and bikes in rack. Here are your bags. We’ll be in trouble if we have to sign the late book again. Skye, just look at your face.’ She spat on a tissue and wiped remnants of breakfast from her daughter’s chin. ‘Rosie, you OK?’ Rosie nodded. In lifting the tiny girl off her seat, Joan noticed her badly scuffed shoes. Cissy, a shock of fair hair poking out of her blue beanie hat, snored in the customised cat basket. All four children ran to their respective classes.

‘Love you all. Be good!’ Joan shouted after them.

Rosie smiled and felt warm inside. She loved being ensconced in the family madness that was the Browns.

Joan got on her bike as Dana and Tommy Knight were pelting towards her.

‘Makes a change for me not to be the last,’ she said, cycling gently past.

‘I know. Hopefully I can sneak him in the back door,’ Dana panted.

‘Glad it’s a school day. They’ll all be going crazy in this wind,’ Joan added and sped off, leaving the pretty Czech completely perplexed.

Then, all of a sudden, as if she had broken free from greyhound traps, Eliska Murray was running as fast as her little legs would carry her, back out of school and back down the school drive. Luckily, with Inga being such a bad driver, she was still trying to do a U-turn in the road outside. She looked in horror at Eliska tearing out of the school gates, with Miss Bradshaw, one of the teaching assistants, in hot pursuit.