The School Gates (4 page)

‘I happen to be interested. Do I need to fill out an application form?’

The handsome young man took in her pretty face and pert little figure.

‘No, in fact, grazie deo, you’ve got the job. When can you start? And perhaps you should tell me your name.’

‘I’m Dana, and I can start tomorrow – at nine.’ She grinned excitedly. ‘But I’ll work till two-thirty.’

‘Great. Right – must get on. It’s forty quid a shift, by the way, plus tips. We’ll need you on Wednesdays, Thursdays and Fridays. My name’s Tony. I’ll show you the ropes. See you tomorrow.’

He winked and Dana was surprised to feel herself blushing. She almost skipped back to her car, feeling more alive than she had done in years. Then, as she got behind the wheel, her smile dimmed slightly. How on earth was Mark going to take this news…?

– Chapter Three –

Joan panicked slightly as her vision became blurry. She leaned her bike against the front wall of her house and steadied herself. Cissy woke up and started screaming.

‘Now, now, little lady. Let’s get you out of here, shall we?’ she cooed, shaking her head to try and clear her sight that way. It was the second time this had happened this month.

As she unlocked the front door, Squidge the dog tore outside and promptly squatted in the middle of the front lawn to do a wee. Joan sighed. She was sure Colin had taken her for a walk earlier. Now she was getting older, the poor old bitch’s bladder wasn’t what it used to be. Come to that, nor was hers after giving birth to four children.

She changed Cissy’s nappy, then placed her in her walker. After making herself a cup of tea and some toast, she sat down at the dining table for a few minutes. She really ought to change the beds today, she thought, as it was a perfect drying day what with all the wind and sunshine. A strong feeling of tiredness suddenly overtook her and she struggled to keep her now clear-sighted eyes open. Yawning, she got Cissy out of the walker and took her upstairs to her cot.

‘Just a little sleep, angel,’ Joan soothed the whimpering child. ‘Mummy has to have a little lie-down too.’

Joan awoke with a start at midday, her frizzy blonde hair all over the place. Cissy was screaming. She rushed to lift her from her cot and immediately took her down to the kitchen, put her in her high chair and gave her a beaker of juice while she prepared her lunch. She stuffed down a cheese sandwich herself and suddenly feeling very thirsty, drank a whole pint of water in one go.

Feeling so much better for her nap, Joan tidied herself up for the afternoon ahead. She decided that the beds could wait. Instead, she would head into town to get something nice for dinner. She dismissed this morning’s episode. No one ever said that looking after four kids was easy. She just needed to get some early nights in.

Cissy screeched in joy from the cat basket on the handlebars, as Joan rode out of the council estate and coasted carefully down the big hill to the High Street. She tied her bike to a lamp-post and put the baby in a sling on her front. She loved going into Fishers, the posh delicatessen. Colin’s accountancy salary was fair, but with the outgoings that four children brought, her food budget wasn’t big. Still, there was no harm in her having a look, now was there? She took in the smells of the cold meat counter and her mouth watered at the selection of cheeses on display. She selected a few jars of pickled delights, winced at the cost and put them down again.

Coming back out into the fresh air empty-handed, she felt sated by her Fishers fix and pleased with herself for resisting temptation.

Veronica Glancy, the vicar’s wife, was behind the counter of the charity shop. Her mauve twinset and pearls didn’t sit right on her square, manly figure. Her posh deep voice boomed to one of the LWL Brigade, who was looking at crystal jugs before getting ready to work her afternoon shift.

‘Well, of course you can imagine my shock when my poor dear Henry was accused of creaming off thousands from the collection. I’ve never heard of anything so ridiculous in all my life! My Henry, a pillar of society – a thief?! We’re suing, of course.’

The LWL nodded wildly. Her beige Chanel suit clung to her skeletal frame, making her look like a whippet.

Joan carried on perusing the clothes section, ignoring the sneers of both women as Cissy decided at that moment to start filling her nappy.

‘Just what I was looking for!’ Joan suddenly exclaimed, evoking further eyebrow-raising. She went up to the counter, where the LWL was now in situ.

‘Do you have some sort of box I could put them in?’ she asked politely, handing over a pound coin.

‘This is a charity shop, dear, not Jimmy Choos. Here.’ The beige LWL thrust a red carrier bag into Joan’s hand as Cissy trumped loudly.

Veronica Glancy’s Bentley roared into life outside.

‘I’m guessing they have a very good lawyer,’ Joan said, smiling sweetly, leaving eau-de-baby-poop and a grinning whippet in her wake.

‘The rain in Spain stays mainly on the plain,’ Gordon Summers recited. ‘Jeez, this is harder than I thought. Can we take a break please so I can get a glass of water?’

‘Wort A, tA, tA!’ Mrs Burrows, the elocution coach, accentuated.

Gordy sipped some cold water, then slumped back in his chair. He was doing this not only for his girls, but also for his dear departed sister, so he had to persevere. Surely it wasn’t that difficult to lose an inherited Canadian accent?

‘I would like a cup of breakfarst tea, please.’

‘Perfect, say it again,’ Mrs Burrows encouraged, her tight white perm nodding of its own accord. She moved closer to him and he felt slightly uneasy as he smelled her coffee breath against his face. If her saggy breasts so much as touched his arm again, then he was sure he would scream like a girl.

Once his hour was up, Gordon ran outside into the fresh air. He was ten miles outside of Denbury, and he took a deep breath at the beauty of the wild countryside and rolling fields around him.

He looked at his watch, got into his car and began to check his Things to Do Today list, which was stuck to the dashboard. It always made Chris laugh that his wacky partner used the Mini as his office. Gordon then checked his diary and on noticing the date, felt tears prick his eyes. He couldn’t believe that a whole three years had passed since the accident. The drunk driver would soon be out of prison, but the suffering of Gordon’s family would continue for a lifetime.

In recognition of the anniversary, he scrabbled about in the glove compartment and pulled out a battered pink envelope. Unfolding the letter, he began to read.

Dearest Gordy,

Hopefully nobody ever has to find this letter, but if they do I know it will be you reading it first as you will have been drawn to the colour of the envelope! He smiled through his tears; it was as if Jessica, his vibrant, beautiful sister, was in the car with him again. As you know, the guardian information is all in the will, but if something was to happen to both Peter and myself – yes, I know it’s highly bloody unlikely as we rarely go out on our own since the twins. But IF it does and you are reading this, then as agreed, you and Chris are my first choice to bring up the girls. I have total trust in you to let them grow as I would. We share values and you are everything anyone could want in a brother and a father. Gordon sniffed back his tears. But there are just a few little things I’d like to note.

Laughter is paramount: a happy house is a healthy house.

Try not to inflict your accent and Canadian quirks on them. I want them to know the difference between a fanny and a butt, thank you very much. I can imagine you thinking, How dare she! I know, I know you were the brave one who broadened his horizons!

Manners, manners, manners.

Five a day! Limit those take-aways. Thank goodness Chris can cook!

If God forbid, for some reason you and Chris split, you have to make sure you find someone who will love them as much as he does.

And finally, just lots and lots of love forever, please.

It is so doubtful you will even be reading this. So much so that I don’t think I need to be so organised as to write a separate letter to the girls. However, if you are, then please just tell them just how much I/we both loved them. Show them photos. Talk about the past. I want them to be saturated with memories of their mummy and daddy!

I’m making myself cry now. How mad am I? But you know me – Be Prepared as we were taught in Girl Guides..

Missing you already, brother dear!

All my love Jessica Rabbit!

Xxxxxxxxx

Mo puffed and panted as she reached the door of Rosie’s classroom with minutes to spare. Joan greeted her with a smile, Cissy sound asleep in her cat basket.

‘Good day?’ Joan asked kindly.

‘Actually, not bad at all. Surgery was busy but my supervisor was out all morning so Ffion and I had a good old catch-up.’

The classroom door opened just then, and the chattering of six year olds broke the peace of the afternoon. Mr Chambers did his usual scan of mothers present and mouthed, ‘Can I have a word?’ to Inga who was bringing up the rear after taking a good ten minutes to park against the kerb.

Joan loved Mr Chambers’ eccentricity. His enthusiasm for learning and life was infectious to the children and she adored the fact that he wore a different brightly coloured tie every day. Today it was green with yellow spots. His matching yellow – framed square glasses were at a jaunty angle and his mousy hair was gelled up like a hedgehog’s spikes.

‘Hello darling,’ Mo greeted Rosie. ‘Have you got your lunchbox?’

The Brown clan found Joan, all three of them dragging their coats behind them on the floor.

‘Skye, Clark, Kent – how many times do I need to tell you?’ They all raised their eyebrows and coats at the same time.

Gordon held both arms out as Lily and Lola appeared hand-in-hand.

‘Dad!’ they both said in unison. ‘Will you perleeese stop being so embarrassing,’ Lily added.

‘I don’t know what on earth you mean,’ he said in a perfect English accent.

‘And why are you talking funny?’ Lola added.

Dana jogged up in her tracksuit and gave Tommy a beaming smile.

‘Did you run here, Mum?’

‘Yes, darleen. I thought it would do us good to get some fresh air and walk back through the park.’

‘What – ALL the way back up the big hill?’ Tommy said, handing over his school bag as Dana nodded. ‘Carry this then.’

Emily Pritchard – Head of PTA, Netball Coach and Mother of Joshua P, seven, chief swot and playground kisser – overheard Dana.

‘Good to hear you are thinking green,’ she smarmed.

Gordon looked at Dana and whispered, ‘Not even extreme Global Warming would thaw that uptight old cow.’

Dana laughed and with a newfound confidence, she looked meaningfully at Preachy Knickers’ breast implants and just said, ‘Naturally, Emily.’

Inga, wearing huge dark sunglasses and a minuscule skirt, held Eliska’s hand and waited behind to talk to Mr Chambers as requested. It annoyed her that she had to take the rap on behalf of Alana. She assumed it was because of her charge’s earlier bolt down the drive.

‘Alana working today, is she?’ Mr Chambers asked, knowing the answer full well. As free-spirited as he was, he sometimes found it hard to accept the excuse of the over-worked mother, when it was so obviously affecting the child.

Inga nodded while Eliska fidgeted.

‘Young Eliska here appears to have been caught kissing Joshua full on the lips at lunchtime.’

‘Oh dear,’ Inga said, trying to look concerned.

Mr Chambers went on, ‘It was made worse as Joshua tells me that she charged a pound for the pleasure.’

Eliska stamped her foot. ‘He is a nasty liar!’ she snapped. ‘He made me give HIM a pound.’

‘Oh dear,’ Inga repeated. ‘But I do have to say the reason she ran down the drive this morning was to collect a pound from me.’

‘See? I told you.’ Eliska sulked.

‘Well, Eliska,’ Mr Chambers said pleasantly, ‘kissing is not for schooltime.’

‘It wasn’t schooltime, it was playtime,’ the little girl retorted.

Mr Chambers managed to keep a straight face and looked to Inga. ‘Now I bet Inga never kissed any boys she shouldn’t have when it wasn’t playtime.’

Inga suppressed a laugh by shaking her head. Surely Mr Chambers wasn’t flirting with her? The teacher winked at her and went back inside the classroom.

Joan walked along with Mo, pushing her bike, whilst Clark and Kent shot ahead on the path and Skye and Rosie held on to the handlebars. Joan stopped momentarily and pulled back Cissy’s blanket to reveal the red carrier bag from the charity shop.

‘Here, take these.’ She handed Mo the bag. ‘I found them in the bottom of my wardrobe this morning. Must have got them for Skye last year and forgotten all about them for some reason.’

Mo looked in the bag and saw a pair of shiny new school shoes of just the right size. Maybe she did have a guardian angel, after all.

‘Oh Joan, are you sure? Can’t you take them back?’