Happy Birthday and All That (24 page)

Posy strapped Isobel into the pushchair and headed for the chemist. While she waited for the antibiotics she read the list of treatments. What should she choose? Aromatherapy Massage? Deluxe Jessica Pedicure [with hot wax bootees]? Vital Eyes Treatment? Aromatherm Perfect Legs? The list went on and on. She smiled. She would ring them as soon as she got back. There was still nearly a month to go before the end of term. Perhaps she could fit in two visits before then, perhaps three … and then maybe in the holidays she could leave the children with Flora or Kate and still go. Oh, the doctor had said there was a crèche. It said complimentary refreshments too. What bliss, what luck.

She walked back up the hill and home. At the top of the road she could see lorries with fairground rides, huge trailers bringing marquees, men putting up signs to direct the balloonists, exhibitors and visitors to various parts of the Common. It was the Balloon and Flower Festival at the weekend.

Frank was out, doubtless hiding from her. Good. Pitty pitty Mummy, thought Posy. Pity Mummy. Pretty Mummy. Pity Mummy.

She made a booking for the following week. Aromatherapy facial with back, neck and shoulders massage. That sounded rather good.

The post had been. Yet another Mini Boden catalogue and a
letter that, with the wonky typing and second class stamp, could only be from her aunt.

Dear Posy,
We hope you are all keeping well. Bea has had a rather nasty fall in Morwenstow Church and has broken her wrist (fortunately her left one), whilst I have gashed my leg on Barney's gate. It is taking its time to heal, and the district nurse is coming every few days to replace the dressing. Between times we are putting honey on it, but my rather poor circulation is making it all rather slow and tiresome.

I wondered whether you and/or Flora might be able to come and spend the hols with us. We don't have many parties booked, but there will be the usual trippers I suppose.

It would be delightful to see you and your brood, and we would be jolly glad of an extra pair of hands or two, even though yours are already so full.
With best love,
Your Aunt Is.

She wiped Izzie's sticky hands and face, changed her nappy, and put her up for a nap. She made herself a cup of tea and sat down to phone the aunts.

‘Aunt Is?' said Posy.

‘Yes,' she barked.

‘It's Posy. Thanks for your letter. I was so sorry to hear about the leg. How is it now?'

‘Oh, still very tiresome.'

Posy knew that Aunt Is would never admit to anything of her own being painful. She also admired the aunts' telephone style. They would say only what needed saying and then hang up. No endless chit-chat. Posy knew that she had to state her business quickly.

‘We'd love to come,' she said. ‘As soon as the summer holidays start. That's on the 23rd.'

‘Jolly good,' said Aunt Is.

‘We'll stay as long as possible,' Posy went on, ‘maybe for the whole summer. Frank and I weren't planning on going away anywhere, so this will be a lovely holiday for the children. We'll have to bring the rabbit, but she can go in with the hens, can't she? I haven't asked Flora yet, but I expect she'll come down when she can get away. She's very busy with work, as usual. I don't think Frank will be coming.'

‘Not at all?'

‘I don't know. We've been having some problems.' Posy could feel her lip tremble. She felt like blubbing. She hoped that this wasn't detectable.

‘Oh dear,' said Aunt Is. ‘Sorry to hear that.'

Posy couldn't think of anything to say. There was a long pause, the sort that would usually signal the end of a phone conversation with her aunt. She could hear Aunt Bea in the background shouting ‘Get down demon dog!' and then a metallic sort of quiet thump, the sound of the lid of a cake tin being replaced. She thought she could smell Madeira cake coming down the wires.

‘My dear, er, do try not to worry,' Aunt Is said. ‘These things tend to work themselves out.'

‘This is pretty bad,' Posy said. ‘I wish I was with you now.'

‘All this business about love,' Aunt Is said. ‘I do sometimes think its importance is much exaggerated.'

‘Maybe,' said Posy. ‘But you do have Aunt Bea to keep you company.'

‘Ah yes. I suppose I don't really have to think about it much.'

There was a chink of teacups. Really, Posy smiled to herself, they should get jobs doing sound effects for radio plays. Tuck in, she thought, tuck in.

* * *

It was time she told Flora.

‘Flora, it's me. Could you come over? I need to talk to you about something.'

‘I'm in John Lewis. In a queue in Toiletries. I've got present buying and wrapping to do. Could you come and join me?'

‘Better not. I haven't got long before I pick Tom up. Sorry to sound so feeble as usual.'

‘Would you like me to come round? I could be there very soon.'

‘Yes please. If you've got time. It's all a bit awful.'

‘Nobody's ill or hurt, are they?'

‘Not really.'

‘Why not just tell me now and get it over with.'

‘Um. It's pretty awful.'

‘You aren't pregnant again? Oh Posy, no more!'

‘Not me. This twenty-two-year-old. Melody.' She spat the name.

‘What do you mean?'

‘Well, she's not pregnant any more. She's had the baby. I found out through a Fathers' Day card Frank had left in his pocket. Apparently he and Melody …'

‘Posy, no!'

‘Yes.'

‘That is disgusting. How could he?'

‘Er. I don't know. He says they only did it once.'

‘What? Well that's hardly the point.'

‘No. It seems that it's a girl. Called Francesca.'

‘Oh my God. I just can't believe this. I mean, I know things haven't always been great between you two …'

‘Well I thought they were more or less OK. I thought we were just tired and struggling a bit.'

‘What are you going to do?'

‘I don't know.' Posy was crying now. ‘What am I meant to do? Send an “It's a Girl” card? Pass on the baby clothes? There is no solution. Look, I know you have to go.'

‘I don't.'
‘Come round later. I can't face saying any more about it now.'
‘OK. I just can't believe this.'
‘Nor could I. And it's all so tacky,' Posy said between sobs.
‘I love you. I'll see you later.'

Flora arrived with very many John Lewis bags. She hugged Posy for a long time. Posy started to cry. Flora kissed her hair. Smoothed it back from her teary face. Posy wiped her nose and eyes on a bit of kitchen roll.

‘You look about twelve.'

‘I feel about twelve. Or a hundred and twelve. I wish I didn't have any feelings. I haven't told anyone else. I feel so ashamed.'

‘Posy! You aren't the one to feel ashamed! You haven't done anything.'

‘I've let it all go wrong.'

‘Absolutely not.'

‘How do I hold my head up in the playground? What are the children going to feel like?'

‘You can't be the first person this has happened to.'

‘The first one that I know.'

‘You don't have to tell anyone anything. Just say nothing. Or say you split up and can't talk about it.'

‘We haven't actually split up yet.'

‘Can you forgive him?'

‘No.'

‘Live with it and make it work?'

‘I can't think. I don't know what I want, except for it never to have happened.'

‘Mmm,' Flora nodded.

‘My main feeling towards him at the moment is murderousness. You could take out a contract on him for me. That would be a perfect solution. If I could go back in time and vaporise him when we were students … but the kids. What
am I meant to do? It's their so-called daddy. I can't decide on the extent to which I should poison their love for him.'

‘Mmm.'

‘I look at the boys and I think, I hope you don't turn out anything like him.'

‘Oh I just can't believe this. It's awful.'

‘So awful.'

‘I'm glad the house is all yours. Maybe you should throw all of his stuff out of the windows.'

‘He doesn't even have any decent clothes for me to slash. He probably wouldn't even notice. And he's hardly got any stuff. He just doesn't have much. Only what students have, records, books and his instruments. Everything else seems like mine or the kids'. I can't bear to tell them. What do I say? “Oh Daddy thought you weren't good enough so he is starting another family with another new baby and a person called Melody”?'

‘Oh Posy!'

‘Well, at least Francesca will grow up in a Sure Start Area … In a way it bloody serves him right. He hates the newborn phase. Or perhaps he's missed that. I don't know what he's doing. I don't know how often he sees them. I don't think he's faced up to any of this. He doesn't know what to do. I think he wants me to make some sort of decision so he doesn't have to.'

‘Typical.'

‘But I don't see why I should give him that luxury. I don't know what's best anyway. Except for none of this to have happened.'

‘I don't think I can ever talk to him again. Oh Posy, how could he? He had everything.'

‘I think he thought it was nothing.'

‘Look, I'll make us some tea.'

‘I'll sit here and sniff.'

Flora was soon back with the teapot and some mugs on a tray. Posy had tried to pull herself together and was standing looking out of the window at the Common.

‘And what does Frank say?' Flora asked.

‘Nothing.'

‘A car crash is the best idea. A freak accident with the amp. Or push him off a cliff. The balcony of a Weston tower block.'

‘I don't know if they have balconies. A baby in Weston with no garden.'

‘Don't start feeling sorry for them.'

‘It's awful for everyone.'

‘But mostly for you.'

‘Does Frank love her? Is he in love?'

‘I think he's incapable.'

‘Had he been seeing her for a long time?'

‘He said it only happened once. I really don't know what has been going on or what to believe. My life wasn't meant to turn out like this.'

‘It hasn't turned out yet. Anyway, stupid messy things happen even in Jane Austen.'

‘I really don't think anything good can come of this.' It wasn't something that she could blink into non-existence or rationalise away.

‘No,' said Flora.

‘Well a baby has. Does that make it somehow good?'

‘Posy, your judgement about babies is really warped.'

‘Umm. I just can't think of this baby being related to mine. It's unthinkable. She even has a nice name.'

‘Calling her Francesca was a low shot. Blackmail. This Melody must really want him.'

‘Maybe she can have him. If it wasn't for the children … I don't know what's best for them. I don't even know what Frank wants, if anything. Posy, Melody - what's the difference? Two stupid names. I almost don't care.' She was crying again. ‘All of our slipping-down flakiness is revealed. We can't pretend to be a proper family any more.'

‘Come here. Sit down,' Flora led her to the sofa. ‘You might
as well cry. Oh how could he do this to you? Beautiful Posy. Kind Posy. Precious Posy.'

‘Stupid Posy, blind Posy, ineffectual Posy, duped Posy,' said Posy.

Flora's arms were around her. Her fair curls and Posy's dark ones mingled.

‘You have yourself, and the children, and me. Look, our hands and arms are the same. Together we're strong. We're one of those Indian goddesses.'

Posy smiled and tried to wave one of her arms gracefully.

‘I think we look more tragic Pre-Raphaelite,' she said.

‘Are you saying I have a thick neck?' Flora laughed.

‘No! And your skin is still lovely. Mine's not,' said Posy.

‘Look. I brought you some things.' Flora started to unpack. ‘I know this doesn't make any difference, but it might help a tiny bit. You should have nice things.' There were bottles and jars and tubs and tubes of wonderful potions. Things that Posy would never in a million years have bought for herself.

‘Flora, this is too extravagant!'

‘I wanted to. I could make it tax deductible if I wanted, but I don't. And there's some stuff from Waitrose that I left in the car. I'll just go and get it. Put some of that Origins “Calm Down” cream on.'

‘Here you are,' said Flora, coming back in with three bulging carriers.

‘Flora, you really didn't have to. Sadly I haven't lost my appetite.'

‘But I wanted to. I hope it's all stuff Frank hates. He doesn't like fruit much, does he?'

‘Only nectarines.'

‘Good. I got peaches instead. Come through and I'll unpack it.'

In the kitchen Flora started to unload it onto the table.

‘It all looks beautiful,' Posy said. ‘Thank you.'

‘How does it go?

‘Citrons and dates,
Grapes for the asking,
Pears red with basking
Out in the sun,
Plums on their twigs;
Pluck them and suck them,
Pomegranates, figs …'

‘And lovely bread,' Posy added. ‘And lovely coffee. I'll make some proper coffee in a while.'

‘Also chocolate, but only a smallish bar. You know the saying: “Get mad, get thin, get even”,' said Flora.

‘And you know the saying,' Posy told her,

‘ “For there is no friend like a sister
In calm or stormy weather” …'

They heard Frank's key in the door.

‘Oh no, it's him!' Posy looked horrified. ‘I don't want to see him at the moment.' Flora slammed the kitchen door shut, but not before she had given Frank a look of loathing and disdain.

‘Where are the children, anyway? Their aunty has to give them a cuddle.'