Authors: Gil McNeil
‘It’ll look dead.’
‘Oh, right.’
Dead wool; who knew.
He looks around the shop. ‘This place is amazing.’
Ellen smiles.
‘That’s because Jo’s got impeccable taste. You should have seen what it was like when she first got here – it was pretty tragic, I can tell you.’
The boys come clattering back down the stairs, followed by Martin and Elsie, who’s heard Ellen’s ‘tragic’ comment and gone all thin-lipped.
‘I wanted to show you this, Jo.’
Martin’s holding a small glass drawer knob.
‘Or I could get the larger ones, if you prefer?’
‘No, they look perfect, Martin, thanks. Really nice.’
‘I wanted something simple, and these were the least fussy.’
Archie’s hopping up and down by the door, with a large Ribena stain on the front of his school sweatshirt.
‘Can we go now, Mum? You said Aunty Ellen’s got us a present, so we need to go home.’
‘In a minute, Archie.’
‘You always say that.’
Daniel looks sympathetic. ‘My mum always used to say it, too, and it was always more than a minute. Anyway, lovely to see you again. Is there anywhere decent to eat around here by the way? Only I don’t think I can face that hotel.’
‘The pub’s very good, the Anchor, just up the hill.’
‘Great. Thanks.’
Ellen smiles at him. ‘We’d come with you – the food’s fabulous – but Jo’s made a fish pie. Actually, why don’t you come and join us? She makes a great fish pie and you’d be more than welcome. You too, Martin.’
‘I’ve got a hotpot in the oven, on low.’ Elsie’s standing with her arms folded, looking thunderous.
I could kill Ellen sometimes. She’s always doing things like this, and the house is in a complete mess, so it’s not the ideal time to be inviting round famous photographers, or infuriating Elsie by diverting Martin from his hotpot.
‘Well maybe another time?’
Martin nods, looking uncomfortable.
Daniel turns to me. ‘I’d love to, if you’re sure that’s okay with you?’
‘Of course. It would be lovely.’
Ellen looks very pleased. ‘We’re just about finished here, so come round with us now, if you like, unless you’ve come in to buy some wool? There’s a whole zen thing going on with knitting, you know.’
‘I’m sure, but I think I’ll pass, if it’s all the same to you. I’m not very good with zen stuff, unless it’s motorbikes. Actually, I’m not very good with them, either.’
Ellen gives him one of her Big Smiles.
Bugger.
As we walk home Archie tells Daniel how he plays Narnia at school, while I frantically try to work out how to expand our supper so there’s enough for all five of us. I’ve got some extra potatoes, and I can do some peas as well as the carrots, and make a rhubarb crumble, Mr Pallfrey gave me some rhubarb from his garden at the weekend, but still. Damn. Archie and Jack are having a ‘Who can make the best lion noises?’ competition as we’re walking up our road, so that’ll be Trevor on full alert, while Ellen and Daniel are talking about some new restaurant in London where they take themselves so seriously they throw people into the street if they don’t make enough fuss about the food. Maybe I should try that later on, when the boys refuse to eat anything with rhubarb in it.
I’m peeling potatoes while Ellen and Daniel drink coffee and the boys watch cartoons, and it’s all going much better than I thought it would: Daniel seems oblivious to the state of the kitchen surfaces, and I’m almost starting to relax when there’s the unmistakable sound of Trevor at the back door and the boys race outside. Five minutes later Ellen’s making Mr Pallfrey a cup of tea and Daniel’s in goal.
Mr Pallfrey’s brought me some more rhubarb, wrapped in newspaper.
‘I’ve just been up at the hospital, and they’ve given me a date for my operation. So I’ll be getting my new hip after Christmas.’
He gives me a nervous look; I’d noticed he’s been limping more lately, but I thought it was just down to being dragged along behind Trevor twice a day.
‘I’ll be glad when it’s done, of course, but I wish they’d get on with it. And my Christine says she’ll come down for the week, after I’m out of hospital.’
He smiles faintly, but I think he’s rather frightened.
‘Let me know if you need anything, won’t you?’
‘Oh, I’m sure I’ll be fine, but, well, there was one thing, and I wouldn’t ask, but since he’s so fond of you and your lads, well, I was wondering, would you take him out for his walks for me? Christine can only get a week off work and I think it might take a bit longer than that before I’m properly back up to scratch.’
Bugger.
‘Of course we can, the boys will love it.’
He looks very relieved. ‘It’ll be the end of January – they’re sending me a letter – so I thought maybe we could go out for a few practice runs, beforehand like.’
‘That would be good.’
‘Only he gets a bit overexcited sometimes.’
‘I’m sure we’ll be fine.’
Ellen’s biting the side of her mouth and trying not to laugh.
‘Well I’d better take him home for his tea. But thank you, that’s really set my mind at rest, I was starting to fret about it.’
‘The boys will really look forward to it.’
Unless it’s raining, of course. Or snowing. Or he pulls us into the bloody sea.
He puts his cup in the sink and turns to Ellen.
‘Well it was lovely to have met you again, and you just keep up the good work. I always look out for you now on the news, and you do a proper job, not like some of them, balanced on sofas with their shirts half undone. Right then, I’ll see myself out.’
Trevor takes a bit of persuading but finally succumbs, and Mr Pallfrey’s whistling as they go off down the road. The boys come in covered in mud, and Daniel’s dabbing at his jeans at the kitchen sink.
‘It’s a long time since I’ve had this much mud on my trousers.’
‘Welcome to my world.’
He laughs, and I take the boys upstairs for a quick bath while the pie’s in the oven.
When I get back downstairs Ellen’s pouring wine.
‘Cheers, darling, I put the potatoes on, like you said. Here, have a drink. It’s not every day you become an official dog walker as well as knitting guru to the stars.’
‘Just don’t, all right? He’s hopeless when he’s on his lead. I’ll have arms like an orang-utan by the time we’ve finished.’
Ellen smiles. ‘Yes, but just think, you won’t need to go to the gym for weeks.’
‘I don’t even belong to a gym, Ellen, let alone go to one.’
‘I know, but I’m looking on the bright side.’
‘Well, bloody stop it, will you?’
I tell the boys the good news about Trevor while we’re eating supper, and they’re thrilled.
‘But we’ll have to be very sensible, Archie, are you listening? No running or shouting, because we’ll be helping Mr Pallfrey after his operation, and it won’t be very nice if we lose Trevor for him, will it?’
‘We won’t lose him, Mum. He always comes right back if you let him go on the beach, Mr Pallfrey says he does. But sometimes he goes in the sea.’
Daniel laughs.
‘And I can hold his lead, can’t I, because I’m the biggest?’ Jack smirks at Archie, who bristles.
‘Yes, but I’m the strongest. I’ve got big muscles, haven’t I, Mum? Look.’ He holds up his arm, which looks particularly puny in his pyjama top, probably because it used to be Jack’s and has gone rather baggy.
‘They’ll be even bigger if you eat up all your carrots.’
Daniel puts his glass down. ‘You sound just like my mum. She was always telling me to eat up things – she still does, in fact.’
‘Mine used to make me eat fried liver and onions. To build me up.’
Jack and Archie give Ellen a horrified look.
‘So thank your lucky stars it’s only carrots your mum’s forcing on you.’
She winks at them, and Jack puts his fork down. Great. He’s never been that fond of carrots.
‘Less of the forcing, if you don’t mind, Aunty Ellen. We love our vegetables in this house. They’re very good for you, aren’t they, Jack?’
He sighs. ‘Yes.’
Daniel winks at him. ‘What other terrible things does she make you do, apart from eating vegetables?’
‘She makes us have apples for packed lunch, and not biscuits. And everybody else has biscuits.’
‘Anything else?’
Archie puts his hand up, which makes Daniel smile.
‘We can only have Coke at the weekends.’
Daniel chokes slightly, and Ellen laughs.
‘Actually, Archie, I bet Daniel knows quite a few people who only have Coke at the weekends.’
Archie gives him a sympathetic look.
Time to change the subject, I think.
‘Did Trevor like your new bow and arrows, Jack? And eat up please, love, or there won’t be any time for telly.’
‘Yes, although he bit one of my arrows right in half. But he didn’t mean to.’
Daniel nods. ‘He scored a couple of pretty good goals too. You could make real money with that dog, you know.’
Archie looks at him like he might be slightly retarded. ‘Dogs can’t play proper football. They’re not allowed.’
‘Oh, right, of course.’
Ellen sniggers. ‘Fancy you not knowing that, Daniel.’
‘Have we got pudding, Mum?’
‘Yes. Rhubarb crumble and vanilla ice cream. Or just ice cream for people who don’t like rhubarb but ate up all their carrots.’
Everybody claps.
I make coffee and then we do ten minutes of reading books on the sofa before they turn the telly on, while Ellen and Daniel stay in the kitchen. They’re still sitting talking at the table, surrounded by dirty plates, when I go back in.
‘Archie’s reading’s coming on really well now. Did you hear him?’
‘Yes, and I love the way he does his special reading voice, and all that Annie Apple stuff, it’s so sweet. Here, have another drink.’ She passes me my glass.
‘I’ll just get these sorted out first. There’s another bottle in the pantry, if you want it.’
I start putting the plates in the sink.
Daniel stands up. ‘We’ll help. In fact, sit down and we’ll do it.’ He turns to Ellen, who looks rather unconvinced. ‘I’ll wash and you can dry, yes?’
‘Do we have to do it now?’
‘Actually there’s no hot water, I used it all for the bath. I was only going to put them in to soak.’
‘Thank God for that.’ Ellen celebrates by opening the second bottle of wine and giving us all refills.
‘Here’s to leaving things to soak.’
Her phone beeps and she looks at the screen and sighs.
‘It’s my mother. She’s starting her annual Christmas manoeuvres early this year, and she’s driving me demented. She’s had my dad out shopping every day this week.’
‘Don’t mention Christmas, please. I’m trying not to think about it.’
‘Is this the first since it happened?’
Daniel’s looking uncomfortable.
‘Sorry?’
‘Since the accident?’
‘Yes, sorry, I didn’t realise what you meant. I thought you were talking about my mother – she’s summoned us to Venice
and I’m trying not to think about it. But yes, this will be our first Christmas in this house and everything.’
Actually the only advantage of going to Venice is we won’t have to spend our first Christmas here on our own. Nick really loved Christmas, he said it was the triumph of hope over experience, and anyone who didn’t like Christmas was a miserable bastard.
But then it wasn’t him who had to do all the shopping.
‘Venice is fabulous at Christmas.’
‘I’m half looking forward to it, really, but my mother can be a bit of a handful sometimes.’
‘Mine too, but I go home every year, even though I always say I won’t. All of us go home, and there are always fights. I’ve got three brothers, and they all bring their kids. But it’s great.’
Ellen smiles. ‘Are you the youngest?’
‘Yes, and my mum spoils me rotten, washes all my clothes and irons things no normal person would iron. I’ve tried hiding my stuff, but she always finds it.’
She laughs.
‘You can mock, but let me tell you, never trust a man who doesn’t love his mum. It’s a dead give-away.’
‘But not if he’s propping her up in a rocking chair in the attic when she’s been dead for years, right?’
‘No, that’s not a terribly good sign, and if he’s got “Mother” tattooed somewhere, that’s not always good either.’
We’re all giggling when Jack comes in, with Archie in his wake, to complain that Archie won’t stop singing.
‘And he’s doing it really loud. Tell him, Mum, because I can’t hear the telly.’
‘I can sing if I want. Mrs Berry says I’m a lovely singer, only I have to stand at the back, because I can go much louder than some of the others. I’ll show you, if you like.’
He starts belting out I Can Sing a Rainbow, complete with arm movements, while Jack puts his hands over his ears, and
we’re on the third chorus of red and yellow and pink and blue as I’m taking them up to bed, with Jack starting to whine.
‘Why can’t Aunty Ellen come up and read us a story?’
Last time Ellen read bedtime stories she fell asleep on Jack’s bed, and when I went up to investigate the boys were both up, building a Lego castle in stealth mode, silently passing each other bricks in the darkness, like they were on a submarine and trying to avoid being picked up by enemy radar.
‘Not tonight, love. It’s too late.’
‘Well will you read one, just a little one, please?’
‘All right, but only five minutes, if you both do your teeth properly, with no pushing.’
They race for the bathroom, and Archie spits on Jack’s hand by mistake, which prompts a stewards’ enquiry, and then Jack pulls the cord on the bathroom light so hard the little plastic toggle comes off. Again.
By the time I’m back downstairs, after two encores of We’re Going on a Bear Hunt, Daniel’s talking on his phone and Ellen’s rather drunk.
‘He’s calling Tony, to come and pick him up. Who’s Tony?’
‘His assistant, I think.’
‘Oh, right. Is he good-looking?’
‘I’ve never met him.’
‘Shame.’
‘Shall I make some more coffee?’
‘No. Let’s play strip poker.’
Oh God.
‘Sorry, the boys were playing snap at the weekend, and half the cards have gone missing.’