The School Gates (6 page)

‘Where will I find Mr Chambers?’ she asked Dana, who couldn’t believe that after a year of her child attending Featherstone Primary, the other mother didn’t know this. But the quiet Czech girl was not one to judge, and she kindly explained where he could be found.

‘Ah, Mr Chambers, here you are. I’m Alana Murray,’ she said and held out her hand, while Eliska waited outside on the drive.

He smiled, noting that her ‘sugar baby’ lipstick matched his bright pink tie.

‘An agency nanny from Bebops will be collecting Eliska today and maybe tomorrow,’ Alana told him. ‘I don’t have a name.’

‘Wonderful, thanks for letting me know. Is Inga on holiday then?’

‘Yes,’ Alana lied. ‘Everyone deserves a little break. Is Eliska getting on OK, by the way?’

‘Um, well. I guess Inga told you about the kissing incident?’

‘Oh yes, yes,’ Alana lied again. ‘Youngsters, eh?’ She managed a smile, thinking that she’d have to find out what on earth he was on about later.

Eliska hugged her as she came outside.

‘Bye, Mum. I love it when you bring me to school,’ the little girl said, and Alana ignored the pitying glances of those other mothers who were within earshot.

‘Bye bye, darling. Be good for the Bebops person and I’ll see you later.’ She patted her daughter on the head.

‘Oh, hi Alana. Long time no see,’ Emily Pritchard shouted across to her. ‘No Inga today then?’

Alana glanced down at her BlackBerry and then walked towards Emily. She had been the only mother on Eliska’s first day at school who had made an effort to talk to her.

‘The silly girl walked out on me last night, but she’ll be back when she realises the grass isn’t greener, I’m sure,’ Alana explained.

‘Oh dear. I do hope she hasn’t gone far. She said she’d babysit for us next Saturday,’ Emily boomed.

‘Did she now?’ Alana said, suddenly quite annoyed that her ex-employee had already been moonlighting. Her phone buzzed again. She looked down; it was Stephen McNair.

‘Right, must get on, nice to see you again, Emily. Joshua really must come round and play soon.’

‘It’ll probably cost you,’ Emily winked, leaving Alana none the wiser as to her daughter’s antics.

Mo ran up the steps to the GP surgery. She nipped to the loo and hurriedly swept her hair up into its usual bun and powdered her shiny nose. She looked at her reflection and quickly looked away, disgusted at her bloated appearance and grey-flecked hair that was badly in need of a cut. She looked far older than her forty-one years.

She scrabbled in her bag and found an old cover-up stick. Whisking it over the small red mark on her cheek, a present from Ron for getting in late after looking after Joan’s children, she sighed loudly.

If only she could just get enough money together to leave him. It was Wednesday – she must remember to get a Lottery Lucky Dip.

She was thankful that Joan was back home and on the mend. Colin had been completely distraught when he had returned home and found out what had happened to his wife. It was a relief, for all that it was Type 2 diabetes, which wasn’t so serious that it needed injections, just a change of diet and exercise habits.

The ever-effervescent Ffion immediately cheered her.

‘Morning! Grim Lynn is on the war-path as Dr Delicious spilled a drop from a urine sample on her jumper. Heads down, here she comes.’

Mo got so close to her screen to avoid eye-contact that she actually hit her nose on it, sending Ffion into hysterics.

‘This is a serious doctors’ surgery, not a Kindergarten, thank you, ladies,’ the grim one expressed, her cropped grey hair and crinkly jowls making her resemble an old man’s testicles.

‘How many hours till lunch?’ Ffion enquired at ten o’clock.

‘Just the three,’ Mo laughed.

‘Shall we go to Rosco’s?’ Ffion wanted to know. ‘I SO need some lard. I got very drunk on tequila last night – like lighter fuel it was,’ her Welsh accent tilting an octave.

‘I’ll come with you, but just salad and water for me,’ Mo replied. ‘I have to lose this weight now; it’s just getting too ridiculous. It’s a vicious bloody circle though. The more fed up I get, the more I seem to eat.’

‘Bless you, Mo, I promise to keep the biscuits away from you from now on.’

‘Please do, and put both Nil by Mouth signs on my desk!’

A pretty Czech waitress took their order in Rosco’s. Mo thought she recognised her from somewhere but couldn’t think where. She had a Diet Coke to alleviate the guilt of the chips she’d just ordered with her salad – couldn’t resist them – whilst Ffion ordered a burger and gulped back lemonade by the pint.

‘Now tell me about this son of yours,’ Ffion said inquisitively.

Mo Stubbing’s life path had never been an easy one. In and out of care homes as a youngster, she was determined that her own family life would be different. However, being a very promiscuous teen, she found herself pregnant at seventeen. Wanting more than anything in the world to love another human being and have them love her unconditionally in return, there was no question, despite several stern conversations with her carers, that she wouldn’t have the baby.

Oh, how she loved Charlie’s father, but he too was immature at seventeen – a free-spirited boy who lived in the same care home as her. His heart was big and in the right place, but his own issues from an abusive upbringing were significant. She couldn’t or wouldn’t want to rely on him for security, so she went for her best option – Ron Collins, ten years her senior.

Ron had always worked hard at a car plant, making his way up from tea-boy to production supervisor, and becoming a good provider. The guilt of taking advantage of Mo when she was seventeen had always stuck with him, and when she told him he was the father of her child, he questioned nothing and insisted they marry that month.

The relationship ticked along nicely but Mo wasn’t in love with Ron. It was her son’s happiness in a secure family environment that was paramount, and Mo’s sacrifice to this end was all that mattered to her.

It was when her son, Charlie, had grown up and was away at university, that Mo had decided it was time to leave Ron. She didn’t want a fuss. She would just say goodbye and up and go. However, the timing was not good as it happened to be the same day the car plant had decided to make her husband redundant.

Mo was just packing the final items into her case, when the bedroom door was flung open by her husband telling her his devastating news.

‘It really knocked him hard, Ffion. Work was his life. Once the redundancy money had run out, he struggled to find a job. He felt a constant failure and didn’t know where to turn. I couldn’t leave him then.’ Mo sighed. ‘It was when he turned to the demon drink that our life became progressively worse.’

Ffion bit her lip as Mo gave a sigh and continued.

‘I tried to help him but he wouldn’t listen. I eventually plucked up the courage to go, but he caught me packing my case, and fuelled by anger and drink he raped me. I became pregnant with Rosie, so what could I do? I had to stay, and here I am now. Unhappy and fat, in a loveless relationship with an alcoholic layabout husband, and nowhere to go.’

When she finished, Ffion had tears rolling down her cheeks.

‘You poor, poor cariad.’

Mo tried to return to her usual upbeat self.

‘Listen to this moaning minnie, woe is bloody me. I just need to pull myself together. I’ve got my lovely lad Charlie, who’s got a good job now, and that little darling Rosie to think about. She is the most loving and beautiful child and I intend the rest of her formative years to be happy.’

‘And happy she will be,’ Ffion stated. ‘I tell you what. How ’bout you take over my three afternoon shifts. I’m starting an evening hair and beauty course next month and I could do with the free time to prepare case studies.’

‘You’re not just saying that?’ Mo frowned.

‘I’m not that nice, Mo. I do need to think about my career path. It’s just encouraged me to do something about it sooner, that’s all.’

‘You’re such a lovely girl, Ffion.’

‘Maybe, sometimes.’ Ffion smiled and raised her glass of lemonade. ‘Cheers to the Mo Collins’ Freedom Fund.’

As Dana delivered the order to the corner table, she was sure that she recognised the plumper lady of the two from the school gates.

She loved the freedom that her new job brought, and by dealing with customers all of the time, her shyness had almost disappeared. She hadn’t received any pay yet, but just knowing it was coming filled her with joy.

Her biggest problem when she had first got together with Mark was not having any of her own money. It felt alien to her to have to ask if she needed anything.

From day one of their affair seven years ago, Mark had told Dana that once he left Carole, she was to have anything she wanted. He was adamant that he didn’t want her to have to go to work. All she had to do was ask for money and she could have it. As an impressionable teenager she was taken in by the glamour of this older man and all that a life with him offered. However, it was quite a transition going from a freedom-loving au pair to his partner, obviously not helped by one very disgruntled ex-wife and a very precocious ten-year-old step-son.

The divorce had come through quickly, which was lucky as Tommy was already on the way. Dana hadn’t planned her life to be like this. She was sad that she had broken up a marriage, but despite the age gap, the love between her and Mark had been so strong that she couldn’t let it pass her by.

Her plan had been to travel as an au pair for a while to improve her English, then to apply for a degree in Film Studies and find work in that field. She would then settle down and have lots of children.

But life, as it so often does, had taken a different path and she had reached her end goal a lot earlier than she had thought she would. Even her wish for a large family seemed blighted, as despite trying for the past four years, she wasn’t falling pregnant.

‘Dana,’ Tony called from behind the table. ‘Two lattes ready for table eight.’

Dana sped over to get them.

‘Nice wiggle,’ Tony joked, his long dark locks curling over his collar like some sort of cool surf dude.

‘I’m not a snake!’ she smartly retorted.

‘But oh, what you could do with that pert little asp,’ Bruno, Tony’s brother, added out of her earshot.

‘She’s a married woman,’ Tony interjected.

‘An unhappily married woman, I reckon.’ Bruno’s dark brown eyes glinted. ‘The best sort.’

‘What do you know, and what does that matter, eh?’ Tony gesticulated wildly, his Italian accent becoming stronger.

‘Calm down, fratello mio. I was just stating a fact.’

The café was so busy that time sped by and Dana couldn’t believe it was the end of her first week already. She cleared the last lunchtime table and went out to the kitchen to hang up her apron and get her coat. Tony followed her and handed her a small envelope.

‘Your first week’s pay, signora.’

‘I cannot tell you how excited I am.’ Dana grinned.

‘I’ll split the tips later and give you those in cash next week,’ Tony added.

‘Oh, is my pay not in cash then?’ Dana questioned.

‘It’s a cheque; I have to put it through the books. An honest unit we are here, you know,’ the handsome Italian smiled.

‘Of course I realise that. I want it to be above board but it would make my life easier if I had cash.’ She had no bank account of her own, so her intention was to squirrel the cash away, save up for a surprise weekend away for her and Mark and then come clean about her job.

Tony held out his hand and she gave the envelope back; he reached into his pocket, pulled out some notes and counted £120 into her hand.

‘This is between you and me, Mrs Knight,’ Tony winked. ‘And only ‘cos I like you.’

Dana blushed to her roots.

Lily and Lola raced out of class and into Gordon’s arms. He

swept them both up, causing Lily’s glasses to go flying.

‘Daddy!’ the little girls shouted in unison.

‘TFI Friday, my lovely ladies!’ he trilled loudly.

‘What does that mean?’ Lola asked, screwing up her pretty little face.

Gordon realised what he’d just said and cringed inwardly.

‘Thank Flora it’s Friday,’ a broad Mancunian male accent intervened.

Gordon looked up and smiled, as these timely words came from a guy who was quite a chicken.

‘Who’s Flora?’ Lola then asked.

‘The Princess of Weekends,’ the Mancunian butted in again and Gordon laughed out loud.

The twins, followed by Eliska, then charged down the path towards the school gates and freedom.

‘Sorry – I haven’t seen you here before. But thanks for rescuing me!’ Gordon acknowledged his saviour, taking in his fitted black T-shirt.

‘I’m Robbie, Eliska Murray’s temp childminder, just helping out until her mother finds a full-time help.’

Gordon held out his hand. ‘Gordon Summers. Nice to meet you, and I hope you have a good weekend. It’s the twins’ birthday party for us, so there’s lots to get ready.’