Mad About You (12 page)

‘She wasn’t really bullied,’ Babs said. ‘A teacher hugging you and giving you sweets isn’t bullying. It’s a bit odd, yeah, but he probably just felt sorry for her. There’s no way he fancied her – the state of her! Bullying is when you get your head flushed down the toilet every day. I’m sick of everyone banging on about being bullied. I bet you half of them make it up.’

I was incredulous. ‘What?’

‘Seriously, every celebrity interview I read is full of “Poor me, I was bullied in school,” or else they’re bi-polar. Don’t you think it’s a bit strange that almost everyone in TV and movies was either bullied or is bi-polar? Half of them are lying just to get column inches. It’s pathetic. I did an interview last month and the reporter kept asking about my childhood – did anything terrible happen, was I abused, bullied, molested, flashed at? Pathetic. Then she asked me about my mental health – am I putting on a front, do I suffer from anxiety or depression or eating disorders or mood swings? Eventually I told her that I eat like a horse and the only flashing I’d experienced was me flashing my boobs at a car full of priests when I was sixteen. She kept saying, “But we’re looking for misery stories.”’

‘Really? She actually said that?’

‘Yes! The magazines only want stories about people who had their arm ripped off by a lion or found out their father is a transsexual.’

‘I don’t want to read that kind of stuff,’ I noted.

‘That’s what I said. Who the hell wants to read about miserable ugly people with missing limbs? I hate misery, I hate moaning and I hate bullshit stories about bullying. People called me Horse or Hook Nose all the way through school. It just made me more determined to get my nose job, which, let’s face it, turned me from an eight point five out of ten to a perfect ten. I’d call that incentivizing someone, not bullying.’

I laughed. ‘You happen to have been born with elephant skin, while most people are a little more sensitive.’

Babs popped the last bit of cake into her mouth. ‘Bullshit. Most people are just looking for a reason to blame others for their misery, their lack of success and their shitty relationships. I am so sick of the women coming on our show crying
about their husbands leaving them or not paying them any attention. If you want a man to pay you attention, lose weight, buy sexy underwear and ride him senseless. He won’t be looking over the hedge after that.’

I made a mental note to get out my good undies and have regular sex with James. I didn’t want him looking over any hedges. I felt bad to be treating it like another item on my To Do list, but maybe that was what life with kids was like for everyone: Tuesday, grocery shop; Wednesday, sex; Thursday, bins …

Lara came into the kitchen, crying. ‘Mummy, Yuri won’t let me play with his Lego. He says I’m not allowed cos I’m a girl.’

Babs stood up. ‘Let me deal with this.’ She marched Lara back into the lounge. ‘Hey, Stumpy, let your sister play with that Lego. Get it into your thick head that girls rock, OK? We are smarter, funnier, hotter and can wipe the floor with men.’

‘She’s really bad at Lego,’ Yuri protested.

‘Listen, Half-pint, when you’re fifteen, spotty, short and desperate for action, you’ll be glad you were nice to Lara because you can snog all her friends. They’ll be two years younger and gagging to get some experience. Mark my words, it’s worth investing in Lara now. Be nice to her.’

‘What’s “snog”?’ Yuri asked.

‘When a boy and girl kiss with tongues,’ Babs said, sticking her tongue out.

‘Charming!’ James walked in with his backpack over his shoulder.

‘
Grooooss.
’ Yuri scrunched up his face.

‘Yeah, right! Come back to me in ten years’ time,’ Babs told him.

‘I like boys,’ Lara said.

James kissed her head. ‘Well, let’s hope you haven’t inherited your aunt Barbara’s penchant for men.’

Babs punched him on the arm. ‘I can’t help it if men find me irresistible.’

James laughed. ‘Irresistible or certifiable?’

Babs put her hands on her hips. ‘Is that what you wear to work?’

‘Yes. What’s wrong with it?’

‘It’s a saggy tracksuit! Have you no self-respect? You should try dressing like José Mourinho. Now he is hot!’

‘I often train with the team – I’m very hands-on. I don’t spend my day sitting behind a big desk strategizing.’

Babs grinned, taking great pleasure from winding James up. ‘Well, maybe you should. Tracksuits are not a good look on any guy, but especially not on old men.’

‘He’s not old,’ I defended my husband.

‘Thank you, darling.’

‘He’s middle-aged,’ Babs said.

‘No, he isn’t. Middle-aged is, like, fifty.’

‘Duh! People don’t live to a hundred, Emma. You are both middle-aged.’

I looked at James. ‘Oh, my God, are we?’

He shrugged. ‘I suppose we are.’

I put my arm around him. ‘Well, I like you and your middle-aged, tracksuit-wearing body.’

‘Thank you.’ James kissed me.

‘Yucky kissing!’ Yuri shouted.

Babs rolled her eyes. ‘I agree. Pass me the puke-bucket.’

‘Well, I hope you’re not feeling too nauseous to eat, because dinner is ready,’ I said, smiling at James.

We moved into the kitchen, leaving the children playing in the lounge.

‘Smells good,’ James said, going over to the sink to wash his hands.

‘Marks & Spencer’s finest,’ I admitted.

We sat down and helped ourselves. Even though she’d had three slices of cake, Babs heaped her plate.

‘So, how was work?’ James asked me.

‘Good. It went really well.’

‘She wasn’t bad,’ Babs drawled. ‘She made two awful-looking trolls halfway respectable.’

‘I assume you’re referring to two women?’ James uncorked the wine.

I grinned. ‘Two very sweet ladies from Devon.’

James filled our glasses. ‘Poor things, coming all the way up from Devon to be abused by Babs.’

Babs rapped his knuckles with her fork. ‘Meeting me was the best thing that’s ever happened to them, I’ll have you know. I transformed them. The single one might actually meet someone now.’

‘Speaking of men, Babs, anyone on the scene?’ James asked. ‘Any poor unsuspecting London boy being used and abused?’

I bristled while Babs scooped a large piece of the chicken and leek pie onto her fork. ‘There might be.’ She raised an eyebrow. I stood up to get a glass of water to stop myself shouting at her.

As Babs shovelled another forkful of pie into her mouth, she said, ‘By the way, I met Mary Poppins.’

James looked puzzled.

‘You know, mousy Claire.’

‘Oh, right. Yes, she is rather quiet, isn’t she? I thought we should interview a few more candidates, but you know Emma. She decided she wanted Claire and that was that.’ Seeing my face darken, James quickly added, ‘But I think she was right. Claire is good with the children.’

Babs shook her head. ‘She told us this really weird story about her teacher fancying her and then denying it. It sounded
like she was making a big deal about nothing. She seems very young for nineteen, doesn’t she?’

I nearly choked on my water. ‘Do you have any idea how immature you were at nineteen, Babs? Claire is like a mature woman compared to you.’

‘I was born mature,’ Babs said, as James and I laughed. She put down her fork. ‘Just because she made you a cake doesn’t mean she’s not a bit odd.’

‘She’s just quiet and lacks confidence,’ I said firmly, tired now of talking about Claire. ‘Being bullied is terrible. I, for one, am going to be especially nice to her to build up her self-esteem. She deserves to be happy.’

Babs finished her plate of food, wrapped a large slice of my cake in a napkin and stood up. ‘Much as I’d love to stay and discuss childcare with you, I have to hit the road.’

‘Thanks for eating all of my cake,’ I said.

‘Better me than you, Fatso!’ On that note, Babs picked up her bag and sashayed out of the room.

I followed her out to the hallway. ‘Babs, I’m serious about Gary. You have to stop seeing him. You’re going to get a reputation and it could affect your career.’

‘Back off,’ Babs snapped.

‘I’m worried about you.’

Babs turned her back to me. ‘Drop it.’

‘Where are you going? Are you going to meet him now? Don’t, Babs. You must know that he’ll never leave his wife. They never do.’

She spun around, looking furious. ‘Gary’s different, OK? For once in your stupid life just shut the hell up and leave me alone.’ She stormed down the path and hailed a cab.

I stared after her, mouth open. I knew I was being a bit preachy, but I’d never seen Babs so angry and upset. Did she actually love the guy? I couldn’t bear the thought of it because
I knew in my heart he had no intention of leaving his wife for her. She was his bit of fun, sex with no strings attached.

I went back into the kitchen. ‘What was that all about?’ James asked. ‘I heard Babs shouting at you.’

‘I was warning her to stay away from Gary, the producer on the show. She’s sleeping with him.’

James groaned. ‘I take it from your tone that he’s married.’

‘Oh, yes, with two children.’

‘She sounded really angry with you.’

I sat down in a chair. ‘She is. I’ve never seen her so furious. She’s bolshie almost all the time, but she rarely shouts and roars. She was shaking with rage. I think she’s fallen really hard for him – she could even be in love with him, which is a first for Babs.’

‘Well, darling, she’s an adult. You can’t stop her making bad choices. You have to stop trying to change her. Babs is who she is. She’s always going to blaze her own trail. You’ve been giving her advice for years and she never listens. The only person Babs ever listens to is herself. Perhaps it’s time to back off a bit.’

A message flashed up on my phone. I read it, then fell back against the chair, stunned. James rushed to my side. ‘Emma? Emma, are you all right? What is it?’

With trembling hands I held my phone up for him to see. The message was from Babs:
Sry 4 shouting. Must b hormones. Am pregnant
.

I was in bed, not even managing to concentrate on
Grazia
, when my phone beeped. I grabbed it, hoping it was Babs replying to me. I had rung her ten times and sent ten messages, but she was ignoring me. It wasn’t my sister, it was Lucy, asking if I was still awake and if I was up for a chat.

I was glad of the distraction. It would be nice to catch up with her and I was dying to see how things were between her and Donal. I was really worried about them. I was also worried about Lucy’s relationship with Serge. Being away from him so much would surely affect him. They had stressed in our adoption course that you must spend time with a child to bond with them.

The other thing about children is that you need to fall in love with them. The more time you spend with them, the more you love them – even though they can drive you crazy. But if you’re away from them all the time, you become detached. It’s human nature. I knew Lucy loved Serge, but I was worried she’d regret all this time spent in the office. Kids grow up so quickly and you never get back what you miss.

I dialled her number. When she answered, she sounded tired. ‘Hi. Thanks for calling back. I’m not disturbing you, am I?’

‘Not at all. I’ve been dying to talk to you. How did your first day go?’ I asked.

‘Good, thanks. The office is really nice, and Paul and Alan are great. We’ve got really ambitious plans. I’m excited.’

‘Great. And, uhm, how are things at home?’

She sighed. ‘Oh, God, Emma, this morning was bad, but tonight was worse.’

‘Really? That doesn’t sound good.’

‘It was a disaster. I didn’t sleep a wink last night. I was nervous and excited about today. I had to get up at four a.m. anyway to catch my flight, so I knew I’d get no sleep, to be honest. Before I left I went into Donal’s room.’

‘What do you mean “Donal’s room”?’

‘He’s been sleeping in the spare room since I took the job,’ she admitted, sounding a bit embarrassed.

‘Oh, Lucy.’ This was not a good sign.

‘He hates me at the moment, but I still didn’t want to leave without saying goodbye. He was awake, so I just told him I loved him and that I didn’t want to fight any more.’

‘Good on you. What did he say to that?’

Lucy sighed. ‘He said he’d never like this set-up, but that he did want to stop fighting because the atmosphere in the house was bad for Serge.’

‘Well, he has a point. Our kids hate it when we argue. It does upset them.’

‘I know, I know.’ Lucy sounded frustrated now. ‘Anyway, I suggested the two of us going out for a nice dinner this weekend, but Donal is working Friday and Saturday until late, so …’

I snuggled down under my duvet. ‘At least you tried. And you should keep trying. He’ll come around eventually.’

‘I sat on the plane over here, going over the conversation in my head. The reality is that Donal’s going to be really busy for the next eight months, with almost every weekend taken up with rugby commentating and writing his column. But we’ll just have to try to make some time to spend together or we’ll be like ships passing in the night.’

‘How about making Sunday your date night?’ I suggested.

‘I thought about that, but I want to go to bed in good time on Sunday because I’m up so early to catch the first flight to London.’

‘I forgot about that. Will Donal be working a lot of Saturday nights?’

‘Well, he’ll be travelling to the UK and France for some of the away matches, but most of the time he’ll be in the studio commentating and then writing his column afterwards, so he’s never normally home before about ten.’

‘God, it’s going to be hard to find time between both of your busy lives.’

Lucy sighed. ‘It’ll take a lot of effort to make this work. I know that by the end of the week I’ll be exhausted, and I’m going to be looking after Serge all weekend. Honestly, Emma, I feel tired just thinking about it. But I know lots of women with high-flying careers also manage a home life, so I’ll have to figure it out.’

‘Well, if I can help at all, let me know. Now, tell me about work.’ I decided to get her to focus on her job: she liked talking about that.

Lucy’s voice immediately took on a different tone. She sounded happy and enthusiastic. ‘Well, we hit the ground running. We had back-to-back meetings and conference calls all day. But the best part of it is that I’m completely in charge. It’s brilliant, Emma. This is my company, my creation, and I’m really excited about it. I think we make a fantastic team. Alan and Paul are bright, ambitious and energetic. So, yeah, a good first day. I actually think Image Leasing is going to be a big success, if I don’t jinx it by saying that!’

‘Oh, Lucy, that’s great to hear.’ I was glad she was positive and upbeat about something in her life. While I might not see eye to eye with her on working away all week, I did want
her to be happy, and her career had always been hugely important to her. It was a very big part of her identity. I suppose I had never considered that it would be a bigger part than being a mother. I still couldn’t get my head around that.

‘Did you have a drink to celebrate?’

‘We did. I was sipping a glass of brandy, looking out of our boardroom window at the view of St Paul’s Cathedral, soaking in the wonder of this new venture and the possibility that I could really make some serious money, if it goes well, when I remembered.’

‘Remembered what?’

‘That I’d promised to Skype Serge before he went to bed.’

My hand flew to my mouth. ‘Oh, no, Lucy.’ How could she forget?

‘I ran into my office and called home, but there was no answer, so I left messages. Then I got a text from Donal saying, “As you know Serge goes to bed seven thirty. He was very disappointed not to hear from you
.
”
He actually put “very” in capitals, just to be sure I’d feel every ounce of it.’

‘Oh, God, Lucy.’

‘I felt really awful, but then Alan and Paul came in. When they saw my face, they knew something was up, so I explained. And they just laughed.’

‘What do you mean?’ I asked, puzzled.

‘Alan laughed and said Donal sounded like his wife. He said she’s permanently in a grump about something. And Paul told me that Donal is bloody lucky to have a wife who earns so much. He said he’d love it if his wife worked, rather than just shopping on Bond Street and spending his money.’

It was all very well for Paul and Alan to laugh, but they weren’t thinking about Serge. What about his disappointment? It wasn’t just about Donal being annoyed, and he had
every right to be. This was also about a little boy excited to talk to his mum, who had forgotten to call, and a dad having to pick up the pieces of that let-down. I tried to play down the fact that I thought her colleagues sounded like selfish tossers. I didn’t want to make her feel worse, so I didn’t mention Serge’s disappointment either.

‘Men don’t have the guilt gene. When James goes away, he doesn’t feel the need to call home every day. I do. I couldn’t not talk to the kids.’

‘I don’t really have that gene,’ Lucy admitted. ‘Paul was saying that his kids grew up with him working long hours and that if your kids have never known any different, why would they be damaged by it or hurt? He says he only ever sees them on the weekend and has a great relationship with them. They understand that their dad works hard to provide a good life for them.’

‘Yes, but I’m sure his children would have liked to see more of him,’ I pointed out. I didn’t want to have a row about it, but I had to be honest.

‘Well, he was busy working and earning so they could go to the top schools and have the best opportunities possible. You can’t have it every way.’

‘But maybe if he worked less and they went to normal schools, they’d be happier. Kids love having their parents around.’

‘Do they? I hated my mother being around all the time, and I only saw my dad twice a year when he was home from Chicago.’

I thought about it. My parents had been home all the time. Dad had had a nine-to-five job and they were always at home for dinner and at weekends. I’d liked having them there. I’d felt very secure, growing up with two parents who were present. ‘But, Lucy, they’re only small for a short time. When
they’re thirteen they won’t want to know us. It’s nice to see them grow up and do things for the first time. You don’t want to miss that.’

Lucy was quiet for a few moments. Then she said, ‘That stuff doesn’t really bother me. I missed Serge’s first step. But I saw him taking two steps the next day. He’s not going to remember that I wasn’t there for the first and I still got to see his almost-first step, so I don’t see it as a big deal. I’ve seen him learning to walk. Does it really matter that I didn’t see his first exact wobbly step? I think women who don’t work make a big hoo-ha out of these things to make working mothers feel guilty and themselves feel more important or needed.’

Was she serious? Women didn’t make a big deal about the first step: it just
was
a big deal, a huge milestone and a precious memory.

‘Hang on, Lucy. Stay-at-home mums don’t spend all day thinking up ways to make working mums feel guilty. A baby’s first step
is
a big deal. Just like the first tooth and the first word.’

‘So you can tell me what day Lara’s first tooth appeared, can you?’ Lucy challenged me.

I hesitated. I had no idea what date it was, but I do remember her smiling one day and seeing a little white flash in her gum. I’d been so excited. ‘No, I can’t. But I remember how I felt when I saw it.’

‘Would you have felt any differently if you’d seen it two days later?’

‘No, but you’re missing the point.’

‘What is the point?’ she asked, sounding exasperated.

I began to feel a bit angry. It was difficult to explain why these moments were so precious. They just were. Mothers knew that. It was instinctive to want to be there for the
milestones. I tried to put it into words. ‘Lucy, it’s not about dates and times. It’s about emotion, it’s about connection, it’s about being present and cherishing memories. I missed Yuri’s first tooth, I missed his first smile, and I feel really sad about that because I’m sure no one in the orphanage paid the slightest bit of attention to either. So when he took his first step in our house, I was ecstatic to be there to see it. As he wobbled about, I cheered and clapped and whooped, and he beamed up at me. He won’t remember the day or the time, but he’ll remember the feeling he had when his mother was there to cheer him on. He’ll remember being loved and made to feel like the most important person in the world for those few minutes.’

Silence.

‘Lucy?’

‘For God’s sake, you’ve just gone and made me cry.’ I could hear her sniffing. ‘Maybe the reason I’m cold is because neither of my parents were present for any of my milestones. It was the nanny who must have clapped when I walked.’

‘You’re not cold,’ I assured her. ‘You’re just not a gushing mother and that’s OK. And you’re right. What difference does it make if you witness Serge’s accomplishments a day later? None. The important thing is to show up and cheer. So tomorrow set your alarm for seven p.m., pop out of whatever meeting you’re in and Skype him. It’s vital that you don’t forget.’

‘What would I do without you? You’re a rock of sense. Now, all we’ve done is talk about me. How are you?’

‘Fine, thanks. All good.’ I yawned. It was half past eleven and I was exhausted. I decided there was no point in opening the can of worms that was Babs at this time of night.

‘Come on, we both need sleep. You especially after getting up at four. I’ll talk to you soon. Good luck tomorrow and don’t forget to set your alarm for Skyping.’

‘I won’t. Thanks, Emma. Night, then. Sweet dreams.’ There was a click and she was gone.

Sweet dreams? Not likely, given the nightmarish scenario Babs had landed herself in. I took a deep breath and willed myself not to think about it. When I’d had some sleep, I’d be in a much better position to consider it sensibly.