A Merry Little Christmas (8 page)

At least, she had Gabriel’s support, Marianne thought, even if she felt she was being pulled in too many directions at once.

‘So, are you all prepared, Steven?’ said Marianne with a smile, as she prepared his breakfast while attempting to feed the twins their porridge. With one hand she was stirring scrambled eggs, and the other was shoving porridge into whichever baby had their mouth open at the time. She’d never known the meaning of the phrase multi-tasking until she became a mother.

‘How are you feeling?’ said Gabriel, giving his son an encouraging smile, as he put some bread in the toaster. Marianne had spent the last few weeks coaching Steven for his exam, and today was the big day.

‘Okay,’ said Steven. ‘My tummy feels a bit funny.’

‘That’s perfectly normal,’ said Marianne. ‘Everyone feels like that before tests.’

‘And all you can do is your best,’ said Gabriel.

‘What do you care, you don’t even want me to go!’ burst out Steven, before hunkering down at the table to eat his breakfast.

Gabriel opened his mouth as if to say something, but Marianne shushed him. ‘Ignore it, he’s just nervous,’ she whispered.

Marianne and Gabriel had both decided to go along with Steven, leaving the twins with Jean. Gabriel was worried that Eve and Darren would be there too.

‘They’re bound to wind him up, if they come,’ he had said to Marianne as they’d gone to bed last night.

‘Try not to think about it,’ said Marianne, but she knew Gabe was probably right. Eve had ‘wind-up’ hardwired into her system.

While Jean was looking after the twins, Gabriel’s dad, David, was out on the fields of the day. Despite being officially retired, he frequently helped Gabriel and Dan out on the farm when he could.

‘Good luck, Steven, I’m sure you won’t need it,’ said Jean, managing to elicit the first smile from Steven of the day.

They drove pretty much in silence the fifty miles or so to the small cathedral town of Middleminster, each alone with their thoughts. Gabe, Marianne knew, was feeling nervous for his son, but anxious about the future, and guilty for half wishing Steven wouldn’t get in.

‘I know I should want this for him,’ Gabriel had told her the previous night, ‘but I hate the thought of him being away from us. I hate the fact that I can’t seem to want what’s best for him.’

‘Whatever will be, will be,’ said Marianne. ‘Let’s just get him through the test first, and hope everything works out for the best.’

She was still hoping that as they eventually arrived at Middleminster. Steven was a clever boy, and had done well in the practice tests she’d done with him. But she didn’t know how stiff the competition was, and he was very young. Nerves could let him down on the day.

They entered the school via an impressively long drive, with sweeping views of frosty fields overlooking the pretty medieval town of Middleminster, and pulled up in front of an imposing redbrick Victorian building, where queues of small boys were lining up to go in for the exam.

‘Bloody hell,’ said Gabriel, looking in dismay at the numbers. ‘I’d no idea there would be so many of them taking the exam.’

Eve, who’d clearly been waiting for them, leapt out of her car with Darren following behind, and ran up to Steven, and gave him a hug.

‘Go and knock ’em dead, kid,’ she said. ‘I know you can do it.’

‘See,
someone
will be pleased I get in,’ said Steven.

Gabriel said, ‘Of course I’ll be pleased.’

‘So will we be,’ said Eve. ‘Darren will give you a BlackBerry when you pass.’

Gabriel was about to protest, but Marianne nudged him as they saw the look on Steven’s face, so they both said nothing.

‘Thanks, Mum,’ Steven said, his face lighting up at the sight of her. Marianne felt sad, despite herself. No matter how many years she’d looked after Steven when his mum was unable to – she could never replace Eve. Not that she wanted to, but seeing how happy Steven was to be with his mum, she wondered if it had been right for him to be away from Eve so long, however flaky she was.

Hours passed slowly in the school café, where Marianne and Gabriel felt obliged to make polite conversation with Eve and Darren. Although by the time they’d heard for the zillionth time just how big Darren’s Christmas bonus had been, Marianne felt like screaming. She had never met anyone so incredibly self-centred and money orientated in her life. He clearly had no interest in what she and Gabriel did, and she suspected, precious little interest in Steven. Unfair of her or not, Marianne had the distinct impression Darren was only getting so involved to impress Eve, because while the rest of them frequently checked their watches and fretted how Steven was getting on, Darren almost seemed to have forgotten why they were there.

Never had three hours passed so slowly, but eventually it was over, and hundreds of small boys poured out of the examination hall, ready to be reunited with their parents. Marianne spotted Steven in the middle of them, a small pale looking figure with an air of defeat about him. She longed to go and hug him, but knew that would be counterproductive, as Steven was very clear that hugging in public was way too embarrassing for an eleven-year-old.

‘How did it go?’ asked Gabriel carefully.

‘Awful,’ said Steven and burst into tears. ‘It was really difficult. I’m sure I’ve failed.’

He looked so miserable that, forgetting her resolution, Marianne automatically gave him a hug.

‘I’m sure it’s not as bad as all that,’ she said. ‘Exams often seem worse than they are. Maybe we could go through some of your answers together.’

‘I think what Steven needs is to forget all about it,’ said Darren.

‘I know,’ said Eve, ‘why don’t Darren and I take you out for the afternoon? I’m sure it will all work out. That will be okay, won’t it, Gabriel? We’ll bring him home for seven.’

‘Oh please. Can I?’ Steven’s face lit up.

Gabriel looked at Marianne helplessly.

‘Of course, that’s fine.’

‘Great,’ said Steven. ‘Mum, you’re the best.’

Hardly glancing back at Gabriel and Marianne, he walked off excitedly with his mum and Darren, talking nineteen to the dozen.

‘Great,’ said Gabriel heavily as they watched him go. ‘Why do I get the feeling we’re losing him?’

Marianne gave him a reassuring hug. It was on the tip of her tongue to say
don’t
be silly
, but looking at how cheerful Steven seemed, it was hard not to dispute Gabriel’s gloom. The trouble was, if Steven wanted to spend more time with Eve and Darren, there was very little they could do about it – whether she and Gabriel liked it or not.

Pippa was at home with Lucy, who was having an inset day. It was nice to have Lucy to herself. At the weekends, when the boys were here, Pippa felt conscious that sometimes, in her bid not to let the boys miss out, she didn’t spend enough time just being with Lucy. Despite her wheelchair, and her inability to talk directly, Lucy had a lively and vivacious personality, and through her electronic keyboard could convey more than adequately how she felt about things. The keyboard was a fairly new acquisition which had come about at the suggestion of Kim from the Sunshine Trust, and it had transformed their lives. Lucy had always managed to get on with other children, but now, to Pippa’s delight, she’d been able to strike up a proper friendship with Ruby, Cat’s youngest, who seemed to have a total blindness when it came to Lucy’s disability. The two girls shared a similar sense of mischief, and Ruby was often round now at the weekends, which Pippa had to admit made life a lot easier.

You sorted my care out yet? Lucy keyed in, as she overheard Pippa’s long conversation with Claire King about their options (none) should the respite care be taken away altogether.

‘What do you think?’ Pippa rolled her eyes at her daughter.

Slacker, keyed Lucy, and laughed her head off.

‘Cheeky,’ said Pippa grinning. Thank God for Lucy’s sense of humour. It made the tough bits bearable. ‘But I’m working on it, so there. I’m just going to make some phone calls now.’

Talking to Clare King was having the effect of galvanising her into action. Every time Claire put an obstacle in her path, Pippa felt duty bound to clear it away.

She rang up the first of two companies who’d contacted her. It was a medical equipment company, who wanted, ‘To give something back,’ as the director told her. The second company made some positive noises, but she couldn’t get anything more concrete out of them.

‘These are difficult times,’ the friendly lady on the other end of the phone said, ‘so I’m afraid we can’t commit at the moment, but keep in touch, and maybe things will be different in a few months’ time.’

‘Thanks, that’s very kind of you,’ Pippa said, she gave the thumbs-up to Lucy, who grinned at her. ‘I’ll do that.’

She put the phone down and high-fived her daughter.

‘See, not such a slacker after all,’ she said.

Okay. I let you off, typed Lucy.

‘You better had,’ said Pippa, with a grin, ‘I’m working my socks off for you.’

She filed the details of her phone calls away, and made a note of the dates she’d arranged for her meetings on the calendar, before thinking about what to cook for lunch. As if on cue, Dan walked in from a morning’s hard graft.

‘How are my gorgeous girls today?’

‘Ugh, you smell of cows and pigs,’ said Pippa, pushing him away in a mock serious way.

‘You know you love it really,’ said Dan with a grin.

Smelly Dad, typed Lucy, putting on such a pained expression, they all laughed.

At moments like this, Pippa knew they’d be all right. Dan would always be by her side, Lucy was a total joy, the boys were a great support. She was going to fight with every fibre of her being to save the respite care package, but whatever else happened, no one could take her family away from her. Not even Claire King.

Cat stood in the chemist’s irresolute, holding the pregnancy testing kit, checking swiftly that there was no one she knew in there. Hope Christmas was a great place to live, but everyone knew your business before you did.

Should she buy the kit or not? Surely she couldn’t be pregnant at her age? Her periods had been erratic for months, but she knew the tell-tale signs, that awful taste in her mouth, the completely debilitating exhaustion, the gentle swelling of her tummy. They hadn’t been careful at New Year. It was just possible – if appalling to contemplate. Cat had enjoyed her time as a young mum with babies and toddlers, but she was now enjoying the freedom of having older children. There was no way she wanted to go back to all that.

After hovering around the counter for ten more minutes, during which time the vacant looking teenager behind the counter (whom luckily she didn’t know) had started to stare quite pointedly at her, Cat bought the kit. She fled home as fast as possible, feeling vaguely guilty and paranoid someone might have seen her. This was ridiculous. A pregnancy scare at her age. Because that’s what it was. A scare. She’d just wasted seven quid because she and Noel had behaved like irresponsible teenagers. She’d laugh about it with him later.

Getting home, Cat found herself putting off the moment. There was no point rushing to take the test, it could wait. Never the most assiduous of housekeepers, she found herself impelled by the urgent need to tidy Ruby’s bedroom. Two hours later, knee deep in plastic bags of tat, unfathomable amounts of string, pieces of paper and broken toys, Ruby’s room looking better than it had done in months, the floor actually being visible, and the desk under the high sleeper bed being clear, Cat felt she could put the inevitable off no longer.

She went back downstairs, picked up her handbag and walked straight into the bright modern ensuite she and Noel had had installed when they moved in.

Best get it over with. No time like the present. Cat had forgotten how ridiculous it felt to pee on a little white stick, or how very long it felt to wait for the result. She sat on the edge of the bath, staring at the blue and white patterned bathroom tiles, realising that not only did they need a damned good clean, but it was about time she got rid of the spider’s webs. Anything to stop herself staring at those two windows. They were both blank every time she peeked anyway. Good. False alarm.

Cat decided that rather than staring at her filthy tiles, she should really do something about cleaning them. Nearly ten minutes had elapsed since she’d taken the test. Time for one last look …

Oh God. Oh no … Five minutes later Cat was sitting on the edge of the bath, reeling in shock. She looked again at the blue line in the window.
Two
blue lines. One immensely strong. She’d only taken the test to prove to herself how immensely stupid she was being. She couldn’t be pregnant. Not at her age. She couldn’t possibly be. She felt sick to the pit of her stomach. Ruby was nearly nine; Mel would be off at university in a couple of years, the others following on fast at her heels. Cat’s career was going really well, and she and Noel were finally beginning to find some time for themselves occasionally. How could she go right back to the beginning again and have a baby? She’d be ancient by the time the baby went off to college, and Noel would be retired. She knew she was being selfish. But a baby – it would ruin everything.

She turned the test over slowly. But what was the alternative? To get rid of it? Once upon a time, she might have been able to do that, but not now, not after four children, not after seeing the twelve-week scans, and seeing a little person, or hearing the heartbeat, or feeling that silverfish darting movement for the first time. She could no longer kid herself it was a collection of cells, or a blob. To her now, the baby was a future Mel, James, Paige or Ruby. By her calculations she must be at least eight weeks pregnant. By then babies had fingernails. How could she get rid of a blob when it had fingernails? There was no choice.

Bloody hell. Another baby, at her age. A horrible vile thought came into her head. What if there was a problem with it? She’d been lucky before having four healthy children. But she was older now. What if her luck ran out? Cat thought about her visit to the Sunshine Trust. All those children with their complex needs. Cat didn’t think she could be as calm or capable as Pippa was in the face of that kind of difficulty. She could barely manage her rowdy family now, how would she and Noel cope if their new baby had special needs? What would it do to the family dynamic? Would that be fair?