Love Is a Secret (27 page)

43

Should couples stay together for the sake of the children?

Was
What Mums Know
crazy? Like she’d told them, before leaving for work this morning, no one did that any more. Kevin hadn’t. And neither had her mum.

Two scoops of soya-milk powder. Stir into cooled boiled water. Scarlett was sucking greedily, her eyes fixed on Lisa. How could anyone leave their tiny baby here all day? She’d checked her notes. Both of Scarlett’s parents had the same contact numbers because they worked together. So it wasn’t as though the mother was on her own, and had to work.

Lisa had only ever wanted to be a mum. Funny, really, when you thought how bad her own mum was at it. Always moaning about having five mouths to feed. Always getting her to help out with the younger ones.

‘Is that baby still feeding?’ Mrs Perkins made her jump when she poked her sharp face round the door. ‘She should be having her nap now. Otherwise the others will be late with their feeds. Look, Elton’s whingeing already.’

‘She’s nearly finished. You love your food, don’t you, Scarlett?’

Lisa held her tenderly against her shoulder, stroking her back to bring up the wind. ‘That’s right. Clever girl.’

‘I must say, Lisa,’ said Mrs Perkins, in a softer voice, ‘you do have the knack.’

Flushing with pleasure, Lisa reluctantly put Scarlett into her baby chair and prepared Elton’s bottle. He was yelling now; loud angry squalls that were disturbing the third baby in the nursery.

Would Sky have yelled like that? No. She’d have been like Scarlett, with the same rosy lips. Petite. Popular. Clever. Everything Lisa hadn’t been at school.

‘You all right, Lisa?’

Mrs Perkins was giving her the evil eye again. She didn’t like that woman: to her, babies were money, not little people.

Lisa stared back. ‘Fine. Come on, Elton, let’s give you your grub.’

Blimey, she was tired. Almost too tired to miss the cracks on the pavement on the way home. But not quite. She couldn’t afford to take risks. Not when she was so close.

Sit down. Have a nice cup of tea.

‘Lisa! Lees?’

Why did Kiki have to bang on the wall when she wanted something instead of coming round?

‘What?’

‘Lend us some sugar, can you? Just a bit.’

‘I’ll bring it over.’

Too late. She was at the door. ‘Thanks, ever so.’ Kiki was in her dressing-gown even though it was only just past six. ‘Ryan’s got a sweet tooth.’

Lisa could tell she was dying for her to ask about Ryan but she wasn’t going to give her the pleasure. Sometimes Lisa felt mean for disliking Kiki so much. After all, if it hadn’t been for Kiki, she could have bled to death. But every time she saw the woman and her kids, she was reminded of what she didn’t have.

‘What’s that noise?’

Lisa thought the mobile had finished. ‘Just a musical toy I’ve bought my niece.’

Kiki was trying to peer into the nursery now. ‘Been decorating, have you?’

‘Yes. Look, I’ve got to go. See you.’

‘Hang on, Lees, you’ve got to come clean. When’s this baby due?’

Lisa ran her hands over her stomach. ‘I’m not sure.’

Kiki nodded. ‘You don’t want to say anything in case something goes wrong again. Well, you can trust me.’ She tapped the side of her nose. ‘I won’t say nothing to anyone.’ She winked. ‘Who’s the father, then? Not Kevin?’

Lisa pushed the door towards her. ‘Like I said, I’ve got to go. ’Bye.’

Wait. Wait until Kiki’s footsteps have finished clattering across the concrete slabs. Wait till her door shuts. Back into the nursery. Pull the mobile string once more. Sit with back to the cot, eyes closed, and listen to the music. Relax, just like Earth Mother said.

But it wasn’t working this time. The memories were rolling back and, try though she might, she couldn’t blank them out.

‘How do I know it was mine anyway?’ Kevin had raged, after Sky. ‘There must be something wrong with you if you can’t keep them.’

Weak cervix, the hospital had said. Next time, they could put a stitch in. Next time! Her chance of getting pregnant was slim, the ginger-haired doctor had warned her, with only one Fallopian tube. In fact, he said, it was amazing she had got pregnant twice so quickly. Besides, Kevin had walked out on her. If she wanted another baby, she had to pray for another man. And that was when it had all started to happen . . .

MESSAGE FROM GEORGIE

Hi Annabel, Where are you now? I’ve looked you up on my
duvet cover but there’s a stain over the top right bit of Australia where I spilt hot chocolate and I can’t see you. Ben heard Dad on the mobile to someone and thinks he’s seeing that woman again but I’m not meant to tell you so. I don’t think he can be, as he and Mum are still in the same bed. What do you think?

MESSAGE FROM FLORRIE

Hi Kari. Can you ask your mum if I can come and stay for half-term? Dad’s always in a bad mood and Mum wrote to say we can’t go to New York now because she’s too busy at work.

LETTER FROM LISA

Dear Mum,

Still havent herd from you. R you still there?

EMAIL TO MRS TABITHA THOMAS

Dear Mrs Tabitha Thomas,

I am delighted to inform you that you have won one million dollars in the United States National Lottery. Please send details of your bank account so your winnings can be transferred. DO NOT DELAY!

WHAT MUMS KNOW

JOIN OUR ONLINE DISCUSSIONS ON:

Do you trust YOUR man? And can he trust you?

White lies: should you always tell the kids the truth?

TIP FROM ALWAYSONADIET MUM

Buy up toys and games in the January sales and bring them out during the year to keep the kids busy.

CHUCKLE CORNER FROM RAINBOW

If a man says, ‘It would take too long to explain,’ he really means, ‘I have no idea how it works.’

THOUGHT TO KEEP YOU SANE FROM BIG MUM

Girls grow up to be women. Boys grow up to be bigger boys.

PARENTING NEWS

Government pledges to put more money into school sports.

44

The following week was hell. He’d had to take one of his clients out for a lunch he couldn’t afford, to assure them that a certain Sunday supplement was definitely going to include their new toddler stair-gate in a review. Then he had to take the journalist out to lunch to persuade him of the stair-gate’s unique state-of-the-art qualities. Florrie was still moody and Freddy had gone very quiet, which was worrying in itself. And Caroline wasn’t returning his calls. So he’d emailed her, rather than contact her through
What Mums Know
.

I know how you feel. At least, I think I do. Please ring.

He’d wait a few more days, he decided, then call again. If he still didn’t get her, he’d go to her office on the pretext of EFT business. In the meantime he needed to concentrate on the kids and work.

‘I’ve written to Hilary,’ said Daphne, when she came in on Thursday evening, carrying a lamb and apricot casserole she’d made for the children’s tea. Mark’s mouth watered. ‘You should write too. Letters are so much nicer than phone calls because you can read them over and over again. Don’t look so offended, dear. If I was her, I wouldn’t want people visiting me in that dreadful place either. So humiliating.’

‘What’s humiliating?’

Florrie had taken to sneaking into rooms so quietly that he didn’t notice. Yesterday she’d almost caught him leaving a message for Caroline on her voicemail.

‘Nothing, dear,’ said Daphne. ‘Now sit up, I’ve made a lovely casserole for tea.’

‘What’s humiliating, I said?’

Mark floundered for a substitute. ‘My work. It’s humiliating having to ring up journalists all the time and persuade them to run articles.’

‘I don’t think you were talking about that at all, Dad. I think you were—’

‘Phone,’ said Daphne quickly. ‘Shall I get it?’

‘It’s all right.’ Mark grabbed it, hoping against hope that it might be Caroline – she had his home number.

‘What?’ He frowned. ‘Can you say that again?’

‘Is it Mum?’ demanded Florrie. ‘I want to talk to her.’

‘They’ve put the phone down.’ Mark hated calls like that.

‘You should dial 1471, dear.’

He was already doing so.

‘You were called at five thirty p.m. The caller withheld their number.’

‘How odd.’ Mark stared at the phone as though it might tell him what was going on. ‘Someone just rang – a boy’s voice, I think, but older than you or Freddy – and said, “It’s me”.’

‘Maybe it’s a prank call,’ said Florrie, sitting on the edge of the table. ‘We do them all the time at school.’

‘What do you mean, dear?’ asked Daphne, putting a plate in front of her. ‘And do sit up properly, please.’

Florrie rolled her eyes. ‘When we’re bored, we pick random numbers and ring up with cryptic messages. And sometimes we order things. Someone in our class pretended to be a teacher and ordered ten pizzas for the staff room.’

‘Didn’t they get into trouble?’

‘No one owned up and she gave a false name.’

‘That’s awful!’ said Mark.

‘Not as awful as the messages Freddy’s getting. In fact, maybe that’s who rang. You said it was a boy, didn’t you?’

‘Yes.’ Mark frowned. ‘What messages
is
Freddy getting?’

‘Shut up, Florrie.’ Freddy had slunk in, still in his school uniform although Mark had told him to change.

‘Didn’t you tell Dad?’ said Florrie. ‘You promised. Freddy keeps getting texts that say he’s a weirdo, Dad.’

‘Is that true, Freddy?’

‘Fuck off, Florrie.’

Daphne sucked in her breath. ‘In my day, children wouldn’t have dared to speak to their parents like that.’

‘Freddy, I won’t have that kind of language,’ said Mark, weakly.

Freddy glowered. ‘Stop me, then.’

‘Right,’ said Florrie. ‘I’ll tell Dad and Gran the other thing too.’

‘What other thing?’ chorused Mark and Daphne.

‘He was on the computer at school, messaging some girl, and these kids – the same ones that send the texts – came in and held him down in the chair while one of the others typed that she was a slut and he never wanted to see her again. And then her father emailed back to say he was going to complain.’

‘That’s terrible!’ spluttered Mark.

Daphne pursed her lips. ‘Well, dear, you’ll have to go in to see the head and tell him what happened. I must say, I don’t trust computers. All this technology is creating absolute chaos. In my day, we went to see people. We didn’t talk to them on a screen or with one of those horrid mobiles that are too small to reach your mouth. That reminds me, when you saw Hilary, did you tell her—’

Florrie’s knife and fork clattered on to her plate. ‘You saw Mum? When?’

‘I meant when Dad spoke to her, of course,’ said Daphne quickly.

‘I’m getting old, that’s my trouble. The words come out all wrong, just like your horrid computer. Now, Florrie, you are going to eat that up, aren’t you?’

‘No, I’m fucking not.’

‘You
mustn’t
use language like that. And please come back to the table. We haven’t finished.’

‘Something’s not right,’ said Florrie, from the doorway. ‘I don’t think you’re telling me the truth about Mum. Why can’t we ever ring her? Why can she only ring us?’

White lies: should you always tell the kids the truth?

He felt like shouting, Yes, Daphne,
yes
. They deserve to know.

‘Sssh, dear.’ Daphne bustled over to Florrie and put her arms round her. ‘Mum’s coming back very soon. She’ll be home by Christmas. Promise. Don’t we, Mark?’

He nodded, as he noticed, with dismay, that Freddy’s eyes were watery. Oh, God, what a mess. Why was it so difficult to be a good parent?

‘Not long now, kids.’ He forced himself to sound bright. ‘Then we’ll all be together again. In the meantime I’m going to look into those text messages. Yes, Freddy, don’t look at me like that. Kids can’t be allowed to get away with that kind of thing.’

‘But if you complain, it will be worse,’ said Freddy. ‘Don’t you see? They’ll take it out on me.’

Mark remembered then how he had suffered when his father had complained once at school. But if he didn’t say something, it wouldn’t stop. ‘Leave it to me,’ he said. ‘I’ll sort it out.’