Christmas At The Cupcake Cafe (20 page)

Issy sighed. ‘Hello,
Chadani,’ she said to the back seat. To her horror, Chadani was wearing a white fake fur coat not unlike Issy’s own, except Chadani’s was huge and had big pompom buttons. She looked red-faced, hot and cross.

‘WAORGH!’ she cried, then opened her mouth and started screaming again, and Issy began to think that paying a fortune to take the Heathrow express might not have been so bad after all.

‘Hello, baby,’ said Darny in a conversational tone.

Immediately Chadani stopped hollering and looked at Darny with huge chocolate-brown eyes.

‘Stop crying,’ he said, fastening his seat belt beside her. ‘It’s annoying and I have to sit next to you.’

Chadani held out her little finger. Darny took it, and she coiled her hand around his second finger, then held it tight. Issy and Helena looked at each other.

‘How do you
do
that?’ said Issy.

Darny shrugged. ‘Because I don’t judge everyone the second I meet them like you do.’

‘Well, one, I do not do that,’ said Issy. ‘And two, Chadani is a baby.’

‘She’s a person,’ said Darny.

Helena pulled out.

‘I can’t believe,’ whispered Issy to Helena when Darny had put his earphones in, ‘that I get all the annoyingness of a child and none of the cute and cuddly bits.’

‘Oh, you can keep your cute and cuddly bits,’ said Helena. ‘Chadani Imelda pooed on her own
head this morning.’

‘Maybe you could send that to
Britain’s Got Talent
,’ said Issy.

Helena snorted. ‘She has many, many talents,’ she said, her voice softening. ‘But delicate, feminine pooing is not one of them. Although the other day—’

‘It’s all right!’ said Issy quickly. Helena’s ability to talk freely and enthusiastically about poo might, she supposed, be considered absolutely cool and normal in her parenting group, but Issy still found it a bit alarming.

Helena swerved round the corner and shook her head.

‘I can’t understand why you aren’t excited,’ she said. ‘I can’t imagine waking up one day normally then suddenly getting whisked off for free to New York. I mean, I have to look after Chadani every day … FOR EVER.’

‘But you love doing that,’ said Issy.

‘You love eating cupcakes, but you don’t eat them every day … Hmm, bad example,’ said Helena.

Issy sighed. ‘Actually,’ she said, ‘I hoped you’d understand. Everyone else thinks I should be over the moon to be going away, and I feel like the most ungrateful, selfish person on earth.’

Helena grinned, before fiercely flicking a V at a lorry driver. Issy didn’t think he’d done anything wrong; it was just habit.

‘What’s the
matter, it’s not a posh enough hotel?’

Issy grinned back. ‘No, it’s not that. It’s just … you know, the Cupcake Café is my baby.’

‘Smells better than mine,’ said Helena.

Issy looked at her curiously. It was very unlike Helena to talk in anything other than glowing terms about motherhood.

‘What’s up?’ she said.

Helena let out a big sigh. ‘Do you know how many hours junior doctors work?’

‘Lots?’ asked Issy.

‘
All
of them!’ said Helena. ‘So it’s just me and Chadani cooped up in that crappy little flat all day …’

Issy bit her tongue.

‘Then he comes home and he’s knackered and has to study and we have to be quiet and all he wants to do is sleep and he thinks my life is very easy but all I get to do is change the baby and take her out for walks which is oh my God so boring, I just push a pram about all the time and no one will talk to me because apparently a pram makes you invisible and all the other mothers go on about their kids all the time and it’s
so
boring and I miss my life.’

Helena stopped suddenly and took a deep breath as if she’d surprised herself by what she’d said.

‘I love Ashok and I love Chadani Imelda,’ she said fiercely. ‘Don’t get me wrong. I love them more than anything.’

Issy felt horribly guilty. She should have listened more, been around more
for Helena. She hadn’t thought motherhood made you lonely – how could it when there was someone new in your life? – but maybe it did.

‘Why didn’t you say?’ she said. ‘You always seemed so happy.’

‘I
am
happy!’ said Helena in anguish. ‘I’ve got everything I’ve ever wanted. My stupid brain is just taking a bit of time to realise it. And whenever I try and see you, you’re so busy and professional and successful and doing nine things at once and it’s taken me three hours to leave the house and wipe banana off the walls, so I just think what could I possibly have to talk to you about, when you’re jetting off on the spur of the moment to New York like a model or something.’

‘You can talk to me about anything!’ said Issy. ‘Except Chadani’s poo, I don’t like that.’

There was a pause, then Helena burst out laughing.

‘I’ve missed you,’ she said. ‘I really have. I just didn’t know how to talk to you any more.’

‘Well I’ve missed you too, so much,’ said Issy. ‘I have plenty of people I work with, and I have Austin, when he’s not on the other side of the world, but I really really need my friend.’

‘Me too,’ said Helena.

‘So aren’t you going back to work?’ ventured Issy. ‘You love your job so much.’

Helena sighed. ‘Well, Ashok and I felt it was so important for Chadani Imelda’s first years …’

Issy shot
her a look.

‘Am I going on about “what’s best for baby” again?’

Issy nodded vigorously.

‘Sorry. I got into the habit at my mothers’ group. So much for the sisterhood. It’s like
The Apprentice
in there, but with breast pumps.’

She reflected.

‘I mean, obviously I’m winning, but it takes a lot of effort. There’s masses of puréeing and stuff.’

‘So?’

‘Oh fuck, yes, as soon as I possibly can. I am totally bored off my fucking tits. Also I need gin.’

Issy nodded. ‘We do. We need to go out and get some gin.’

‘We should,’ said Helena. ‘But you’re leaving the country.’

‘Yes,’ said Issy. ‘I shall return with duty-free gin.’

‘Well, I am envious,’ said Helena. ‘But I do understand. And I would say, enjoy it as much as you can. December in New York – amazing! Forget all the other stuff. You and Austin will sort it. You’re both reasonable people. Love will find a way.’

‘Hmm,’ said Issy. ‘I will just have to try and remember the difference between compromise and giving up everything for a chap. My mother would be horrified.’

Helena smiled. ‘And she spent a year in a nudist colony.’

‘Please don’t remind me about
that again. Please please please please.’

‘The photo Christmas card was my favourite.’

‘Stop it! Stop it!’

When they arrived at Heathrow, Helena got out and even ignored – for five seconds – Chadani’s cross mewling noises to give Issy a huge hug, which Issy returned with gusto.

‘Now don’t start buying too many presents for Chadani,’ she said sternly.

‘Sssh!’ said Helena. ‘She still believes in Santa Claus.’

Darny slouched out of the car.

‘Have you got a hug goodbye for your auntie Helena?’

Darny regarded her. ‘I wouldn’t feel comfortable embracing you at this point,’ he said.

Helena shot Issy a look. ‘Good luck,’ she said.

‘Thank you!’ trilled Issy. ‘Come on, Darny, shall we go see Austin?’

Darny shrugged his shoulders. ‘I’d have been all right in the house by myself.’

‘Of course you would,’ said Issy. ‘Right up to the catastrophic fire at five past four. Come on!’

Helena held Chadani Imelda’s arm up to wave as they disappeared into the futuristic glossiness of Terminal Five, lit up like a spaceship in shades of purple and blue. Then she cuddled her little girl close to her in her smart red coat.

‘I love you so much,’ she
said. ‘But Mummy has stuff to do too.’

‘MUMMY!’ said Chadani cheerfully, and bit her affectionately on the ear.

There was a queue of hundreds of people at check-in. It made Issy tired just looking at it; she’d been up since 5.30. Lots of screaming children, obviously travelling for Christmas, and loads of complicated-looking baggage being checked in. The queue wound round and round the metal poles with strips to pull out and fasten to mark the line; several children were pulling them back, hurting their hands and causing disagreements in the queue. One harassed woman at the check-in desk had a grim set to her jaw that said she was getting through her day by sheer willpower alone, so not to try and cheek her.

Down in the main lobby of the terminal a brass band was playing ‘Once in Royal David’s City’ so loudly Issy couldn’t hear herself think. She felt a headache coming on. This was a stupid idea. They shouldn’t have come. She had a very ominous-looking letter from Darny’s form teacher in her pocket that she was taking to Austin that she recoiled from touching whenever her hand strayed in that direction and Darny was making the kind of loud sighs and eye rolls that generally precipitated an outburst against the world, and Issy felt ridiculously hot and stupid in her white coat; she knew her cheeks were red and her black curly hair
had tangled itself in the humidity.

They heaved their stuff forward towards the front of the queue, where a man was checking boarding passes. Theirs had been lying on the hall floor when Issy had arrived home – she’d assumed Janet had dropped them in, but now she saw that they’d actually been couriered. She handed them over, feeling as she did so a mild panic that they were the wrong ones and the realisation in the pit of her stomach that she hated flying; it scared her stiff even though she’d never admit it in a million years.

The man studied the documents and glanced at her briefly. Issy felt herself go even redder. It would be entirely like Austin to get the date or the plane or the time wrong; once they’d been to Barcelona for a mini-break whilst Darny stayed with the dreaded aunties, and he’d booked the hotel for the wrong weekend. Typical. Issy chose to forget for the moment that instead they’d hired a scooter and gone off and explored the countryside, ending up in this completely amazing finca with a waterfall in the grounds and the most amazing paella, and had had the best trip ever.

The man finally looked up, smiled brightly at them and said, ‘This isn’t the queue for you.’

Issy thought she might burst into tears. They were going to have to turn round and head all the way back into town with all their stuff, and Darny would be a nightmare and she’d have to explain to everyone what she was doing back in London
and Austin would probably extend his trip and she’d have to spend Christmas by herself because her mum was Jewish now and …

The man was pointing to the side. ‘You go over there.’

She followed his hand. It was indicating a red carpet, leading off behind a purple-tinted wall with a sign overhead saying, ‘Business and First-Class Passengers’.

Issy did an enormous double-take. She couldn’t believe it. She looked at the tickets but still didn’t really understand them, then smiled an enormous wobbly grin.

‘Really?’

‘Really,’ said the man. ‘Have a good flight.’

Suddenly, everything changed. It was, Issy told Helena later, like being whisked through the wardrobe to Narnia. There was an entire section for check-in just for them; no queues, no waiting to get through security. Even Darny was quietly impressed. They went up to the lounge, which had every magazine and newspaper and snack and drink imaginable, then, on the plane itself, they went upstairs, which was beyond exciting.