The Christmas Surprise (27 page)

They were coming to the end of the village now, past the curve of the churchyard – there was a small graveyard on the other side of the road too – then down past the farm tracks where Lilian had once whizzed on her bicycle and out on to the old road, where in amongst the woods at the top of an overgrown path stood the ramshackle wooden hut that had once hosted dances and parties, town meetings and rallies.

As people’s expectations of nights out had changed somewhat and it became more acceptable for women to drink in the bar at the Red Lion, the hut had gradually fallen out of use. Tonight, however, it was lit up in the
icy gloom, and from inside came the sound of small feet crashing up and down and harshly shouted orders.

Rosie and Tina swapped glances.

‘It’s kind of falling-down,’ whispered Tina.

‘Listen,’ said Rosie. ‘With some posh fairy lights and a couple of gas heaters and some tinsel and those funny chairs with ribbons on the back, it’ll be transformed. Like when Ross married Emily on
Friends
, remember?’

‘I remember that not turning out so well,’ said Tina.

The noise from the old hut showed no sign of stopping.

‘I wonder who runs it,’ said Rosie. ‘We know it’s not the vicar; it involves physical exercise. Anyway, they’ll know who owns the hut.’

‘Do you think …’ Tina’s eyes were bright. ‘Do you think they’d let us have our wedding here?’

‘I can’t imagine why not,’ said Rosie. ‘Who in the village could possibly not wish you and Jake every happiness and success? Except my mother-in-law-to-be, and let’s assume she’s got nothing to do with it.’

She walked up to the hut and knocked confidently on the door. There was silence inside, a few scuffles, then the door was thrown open, and there, looking not at all happy to be disturbed, was Roy Blaine.

Rosie could never think of Roy Blaine without reminding herself that there were loads of dentists she knew
who were absolute salt-of-the-earth types: gentle, thoughtful, kind to children, and who didn’t treat the occasional dental issue as a moral failing.

Roy was not like that. He was the opposite of that. He seemed to have taken his attitude towards his job from a terrifying children’s book. In fact she had no idea why he was mixing with children at all. He hated the blighters.

Now he blinked at her behind his unpleasant frameless glasses, then showed his horrifically white tombstone teeth in one of his wide, insincere grins.

‘Miss Hopkins,’ he said. He inclined his head. ‘And your new …’

He seemed to run out of words here and flapped his hands. Rosie gasped at his rudeness.

‘This is my baby Apostil,’ she said. But Roy ignored her and turned to Tina.

‘And Miss Ferrers,’ he said. ‘Have you made a decision about young Emily’s brace yet? If you don’t do it soon, I’ll have to dislocate her jaw or she’ll be disfigured for life.’

‘She’s only nine,’ gasped Tina. ‘And it’s so expensive.’

‘Too expensive to avoid lifelong disfigurement? Oh well. That is a shame.’

‘Why are you running the Boys’ Brigade?’ asked Rosie in some shock.

‘Because, Miss Hopkins, thanks to you and your fellow sugar-pushers, the children of this village are WEAK. Lily-livered, pathetic mewling milquetoasts.’

Edison, still wearing his oddly tilted beret, had marched up to the door.

‘Hello, Miss Rosie!’ he said, beaming. Roy shot him a look and he instantly stiffened.

‘They need backbone. Sinew.’

Edison nodded vigorously.

‘We’re weak, Miss Rosie.’

Rosie couldn’t exactly argue with that, but her brow furrowed.

‘But what’s in it for you?’

‘The satisfaction of building healthy young bodies and minds, rather than poisoning them with sugar as you do.’

He cleared his throat.

‘Sixty-four more laps of the hut, please!’

Rosie narrowed her eyes at him. She didn’t buy this for a second. Tina coughed, and she remembered why she was there. She tried to make her voice more conciliatory.

‘The thing is, we need to borrow the hut. In two weeks.’

‘There isn’t a town council meeting until the new year,’ said Roy. ‘So no.’

‘But,’ said Tina desperately, ‘it’s for my wedding.’

‘You’re supposed to plan these things more than a couple of weeks in advance,’ said Roy. There was a Mrs Blaine – Rosie had seen her, a pinched, terrified-looking woman called Laura, who never came into the shop –
but Rosie found the concept of Roy Blaine proposing marriage terrifying in the extreme.

Tina burst into noisy tears.

‘Ssssh,’ said Rosie. ‘I’m sure Mr Blaine will do the right, kind thing and change his mind.’

‘I’ll do the right thing and send it through the proper council channels,’ said Roy. ‘Now if you don’t mind, I have drill.’

He turned back into the room of slightly terrified-looking little boys and shouted, ‘Atten-HUT!’ and they all leapt to attention.

Rosie took Tina for a drink in the Red Lion. Les, the lugubrious landlord, didn’t realise Apostil was there till he was handing over their white wines.

‘No kids in ’ere,’ he said, his moustache drooping into the lines that ran down from his nose.

‘I haven’t … Oh,’ said Rosie, remembering. She had been so caught up in wondering what to do about Tina’s wedding, she had completely forgotten the baby was there. ‘Oh, dammit, he’ll never sleep tonight. We’ll just have to sit up and watch
I’m a Celebrity
.’

She turned round and, to her horror, caught the eye of Joy, the social worker, who was sitting at a corner table with a cup of tea, marking something up on her omnipresent iPad.

‘Oh Lord,’ said Rosie. ‘It’s just one thing after another.’ She gave a weak wave. Joy got up and stalked over.

‘You know you’re not allowed to bring Baby to the pub?’

Well, if there was a Starbucks in Lipton we’d probably have gone there and parked our buggy right in everybody’s way, like all those ‘good mothers’, was what Rosie wanted to say, but she didn’t dare, just hung her head.

‘Sorry, I just popped in … my friend was a bit upset.’

‘Now,’ said Joy, in a sing-song voice that was supposed to be soothing but was actually quite the opposite, ‘I realise you’re a first-time mother, and that Apostil is an adopted child …’

Mentally Rosie rolled her eyes.

‘But we don’t consider “the pub”’ – she made air quotation marks – ‘to be the safest or best environment for Baby.’

‘Um. Yes. Thank you,’ said Rosie, feeling rebellious inside. She was tempted to order a double whisky, even though she’d never ordered whisky in her life because she hated the taste of the stuff. ‘I was just going,’ she said instead.

‘Don’t you want your wine?’ said Tina.

‘No, of course not,’ said Rosie, forcing herself. ‘I would never drink wine in front of … Baby.’

Joy gave her a patronising smile as Rosie, feeling absolutely red hot, slowly got up and walked across the pub, leaving behind the full glass of wine on the table.
She was watched by an agonisingly embarrassed Tina and a smug-looking Joy, as well as a full complement of locals. It would be all over the village by the next morning.

Standing up woke Apostil, who greeted the room with a hearty yell, thus alerting the last two chess-playing pensioners in the corner, who had been previously unaware of what was happening. Rosie stomped out of the pub and, crossly, into the street.

‘What’s up with you?’ said Stephen as she threw open the door ten minutes later with a face like thunder. ‘You look like my mother.’

Pamela was pacing up and down in front of the fire, shouting into her phone.

‘Oh good,’ said Rosie through gritted teeth. ‘Pamela’s back. After she threw you out of your home, she appears to be squatting at ours.’

Stephen looked uncomfortable.

‘She’s not been well,’ he said. ‘Also she says she needs miso and I don’t know where to get any.’

‘Halifax,’ sniffed Rosie. ‘Shall we go and drive her there now? There’s a Force 4 coming in, but anything for Pamela.’

She unstrapped a howling Apostil and passed him over.

‘What’s up?’ said Stephen. ‘Don’t tell me, is being a mum not exactly like they said it would be in all those stupid magazines you bought?’

Rosie half smiled.

‘Ha, the ones with the perfect children in clean clothes doing somersaults?’

‘With the skinny smiling mothers who also don’t have any drool on them?’

‘With their fresh-faced nine-hours-sleep faces?’

‘And their high-heeled shoes?’

Rosie couldn’t help laughing. It was hard to be grumpy when Stephen was teasing her.

‘No. Actually, up until about ten minutes ago, he’s been a total angel all day. It’s not him.’

And she explained.

‘I was just trying to help out, but everywhere we turn …’

She looked at Pamela, who was having a cigarette outside the kitchen door, even though it was absolutely freezing, and still shouting into her mobile phone. Mr Dog was jumping up and down excitedly and trying to bite the lit end; this was more entertainment than he’d seen in months.

‘Who’s she calling?’

‘Oh, she has a full list of requirements for Peak House. You’d think it would be impossible before Christmas, but my sister can be quite persuasive when she wants to be.’

Rosie looked at her for a long moment.

‘What’s she even going to do up there?’

‘Be a dog in a manger,’ said Stephen. ‘Annoy my mother. Take the pressure off us. Get bored and sell Peak House. All that good stuff.’

‘Anyway,’ said Rosie, and she told him the rest. To his credit, Stephen laughed heartily.

‘I don’t think Roy Blaine being an arsehole is going to make the papers … Did you really take our baby to the pub?’

Rosie switched on the kettle and allowed herself a smile.

‘Oh God, I know. I promise, I absolutely wasn’t thinking. I had my jacket done up and he was so quiet and keeping me warm, and Tina and I go to the Red Lion all the time, and …’

‘Who else was there?’ said Stephen, letting Apostil kick naked on a towel to give his nappy rash an airing. The layers of itchy wool had their down side sometimes.

‘Oh don’t,’ said Rosie. ‘Jeremy from Bender’s Farm. Big Pete, of course. Mrs Laird. Everyone. All the worst gossips and everyone who hates me. Why was the social worker in the pub anyway?’

‘Because she’s a free agent?’

‘No, because there’s nowhere else to go in this town. I should open a café.’

‘What, come and have a cup of tea and a lollipop whistle?’

‘Yes,’ said Rosie. ‘Anyway. It was horrible.’

‘They’ll make allowances.’

‘Plus I have an employee who can’t sit up without bursting into tears. That isn’t helping matters.’

‘No,’ said Stephen, looking grave. ‘This is really getting to Tina, isn’t it?’

‘It would be nothing to Roy Blaine to let her use that damn scout hut,’ said Rosie. ‘Nothing. He’s only doing it to be an arsehole.’

‘I think I should introduce him to my sister.’

‘No,’ said Rosie. ‘His teeth aren’t white enough.’

Stephen made her feel a little better, but it still took her a long time to get to sleep that night, especially with Apostil making his little noises in his crib in the corner of the bedroom – they’d had to move him upstairs; it was just too cold down there. Somehow she knew he sensed they were all sleeping in the same room, and it was obvious he approved of the situation. They were going to have a heck of a job moving him back down.