The Mince Pie Mix-Up (17 page)

‘You were brilliant. Look at all the research you did. I couldn’t have done any of this without you. You’re amazing, Sarah.’

‘Oh, Calvin. I think you’re amazing too.’

Judy’s eyes widened as Sarah leaned in towards her, planting her lips on Judy’s. Judy was too stunned to move until she felt Sarah’s soft tongue slipping between her lips. Placing her palms on Sarah’s shoulders, she gently pushed the woman away. This was not a Katy Perry song.

‘Sarah, no. I think you’re a great girl, honestly I do. But I’m
married
.’

‘Oh, God.’ Sarah cringed before covering her face with her hands. She peeked out of her fingers before emitting a high-pitched squeak of mortification and sprinting from the building.

Chapter Nineteen:
Father and Son

Steve Peebles’ office was chaotic, with toppling towers of books and mountainous piles of papers obscuring his desk. Every available space was filled, including a large plant pot sitting in the corner of the room. It looked like the entire contents of a stationery shop had been tipped on top of the soil while the actual stationery pot on his desk was filled with balled-up post-it notes, like a tiny litter bin. The actual bin was overflowing, spilling its contents onto the carpet. The office resembled the before shot in a TV programme to help hoarders combat their problems. Not that Mr Peebles seemed to notice. He welcomed Calvin into his office with pride, presenting his domain as though it were a glittering palace.

‘Come in, Mrs Neil. Take a seat.’ Mr Peebles leapt at the chair, grabbing the pile of books so Calvin could sit down. ‘Scott will be joining us shortly.’ Peebles sat on the opposite side of the desk, making space in the pile of crap so he had a clear view of Calvin. ‘I must say, this is awfully out of character for Scott. As you know, we’ve had a few problems this year with Scott’s lack of educational motivation.’

Calvin frowned at the man sitting across from him. Lack of educational motivation? What the Dickens was the man going on about? What kid
was
motivated by education?

‘But we’ve never had a problem with violence before,’ Peebles continued.

‘What exactly happened?’ The woman on the phone hadn’t been too hot with the details earlier and she’d seemed rather keen to end the call. Calvin was sure she’d already hit the celebratory end-of-term vino.

‘Scott was involved in a fracas with another student out in the playground. When the boys were questioned, it was determined Scott started the incident, though he has been reluctant to reveal why. Like I said, it is most unlike Scott and Jack is one of his closest friends at the school.’

‘
Jack?
’ Calvin couldn’t have heard right, surely. Scott and Jack had been friends since primary school. They were founding members of their band and played for the Woodgate Juniors football team together. ‘Scott and Jack were in a fight?’

‘I’m afraid so.’ Peebles plucked an old apple core that was hiding between two piles of books and tossed it towards the bin. It bounced from the bin and onto the floor, taking several sheets of paper with it. ‘There were no serious injuries sustained by either of the boys but we take this sort of matter
very
seriously. We have a zero tolerance policy on bullying.’

‘Bullying? But they’re best friends.’

Peebles chortled. ‘That may not be the case any more, Mrs Neil.’

‘But one spat can hardly be labelled as bullying.’

‘These things can escalate quickly, Mrs Neil.’ Peebles leapt out of his seat when there was a knock at the door. ‘Ah, come in Scott. Your mother is here.’ He led the boy into the room, making room on another chair that Calvin hadn’t even noticed sitting under a pile of crap under the window. He dragged the chair next to Calvin’s and indicated that Scott should sit.

‘What happened?’ Calvin examined his son for any sign of damage but there was nothing but the faintest bruise on his cheek.

‘Dunno.’ Scott shrugged.

‘I’m afraid that won’t do.’ Peebles sat in his chair, picking up a pen only to put it down again when he couldn’t locate the sheet of paper he was looking for. ‘We need to know what happened this afternoon and, more importantly, that it won’t happen again.’

‘It won’t.’

‘Hmm.’ Peebles observed the boy until he began to squirm. ‘What I’d like to know is what caused such an outburst in the first place.’

Scott shrugged again, picking at a loose thread on his tie. ‘He was taking the piss.’

Peebles cleared his throat and gave Scott a pointed look. ‘You mean he was
teasing
you? May I ask what the nature of this teasing was?’

Another shrug. ‘Football.’

‘Football?’ Calvin was sure the teacher rolled his eyes. ‘This was a fight about
football
?’

‘The coach of the Woody Juniors keeps going on at me about my tackling. He doesn’t think I’m good enough and Jack says I’ll end up benched.’

Peebles frowned at Scott. Calvin could take a guess at what the man was thinking: this was hardly world-shattering stuff. But to Scott it clearly was.

‘This is going to go on your record. Do you realise that?’

Scott shrugged. ‘I guess.’

Peebles observed him before emitting a loud sigh. ‘What I suggest is Scott goes home with you now, Mrs Neil, and returns after the Christmas break with a fresh attitude to learning. I don’t see the point in formally suspending him when there is less than an hour left of the school term. But …’ He eyed Scott. ‘No more fighting – about football or anything else. Yes?’

Scott had the good sense not to shrug this time. ‘Yes.’

‘Good. Have a nice Christmas.’

Calvin led Scott out of the cave of crap. He suspected there was more to Scott and Jack’s falling out than football. The question was, how did he get his son to talk to him about it?

Calvin decided to take a quick detour to the supermarket before returning to the village to pick Charlie up from school. If they were quick, they’d have just enough time to pick up a few groceries before hauling ass to the school in time for kicking-out time.

‘Why are we doing this?’ Scott asked as they dashed around the fruit and veg aisles, shoving fresh carrots, a bag of onions, potatoes and garlic into a basket.

‘I’m going to make a nice meal for your dad.’ One that didn’t end with ‘and chips’ or contain processed food. Something hearty to ward away the winter blues. ‘He deserves it.’

‘
He
deserves it?’ Scott paused in the aisle and observed what he thought was his mother as though she were from another planet.

‘Yes. He works hard to keep this family going.’ Calvin picked up a bag of fresh basil, scrutinised it from all angles before putting it back. Let’s not get ahead of ourselves here. He really didn’t have a clue when it came to herbs. ‘It’s taken me a while to realise it, but I want to show Ju …’ Calvin’s eyes widened as he realised his mistake but he quickly corrected himself. ‘Just how much he means to me.’

‘
He
should be the one cooking for you for a change,’ Scott said as they headed away from the fruit and veg. ‘It’s you who does everything for us, Mum. He should be helping out more.’

‘And he will.’ Calvin picked up the first packet of meat that caught his eye: beef, already diced. Perfect. ‘After Christmas. It’s just that everything’s a bit messed up at the moment.’

‘I know.’

‘You do?’ Calvin placed the packet of beef in the basket and turned to his son. Scott was looking down at the floor, scuffing his school shoes back and forth. Calvin thought he and Judy had done a pretty good job of covering up the mix-up but maybe not.

‘You’re going to get divorced, aren’t you?’

‘Divorced?’ Calvin was relieved their cover wasn’t blown, but his relief rapidly morphed into horror. ‘We’re not getting divorced. What makes you think that?’

Scott looked up, his eyes slightly pink around the edges. ‘
Everything
. You’ve been arguing loads lately and I saw you sleeping on the sofa this morning. How long have you been sleeping separately?’

‘We haven’t, mate. Not really. That was a one-off because your dad’s snoring was too loud. Which is
completely
out of character, obviously.’ Calvin placed an arm around his son’s shoulders and it took a good three and a half seconds before Scott shrugged him off. He must be feeling rotten to have allowed such lengthy contact.

‘Jack said it could have been because of your drinking,’ Scott mumbled. ‘He said you could have passed out drunk last night.’

‘Excuse me? My
drinking
?’

‘I know, Mum. I have eyes and I’m not a little kid like Charlie.’ Scott’s eyes were wide and bewildered but he attempted to straighten his back so he could stand tall. ‘Is it because Dad’s making you so miserable? Drink isn’t the answer, you know.’

Calvin laughed. He couldn’t help it.

‘It isn’t funny, Mum. We learned about alcoholism in PSHE. I think you need help.’

‘Oh, mate.’ Calvin ruffled Scott’s hair. ‘I don’t have a drinking problem.’

Scott folded his arms across his chest and gave a firm nod of his head. ‘The signs are all there, Mum.’

‘Signs? What signs?’ Calvin started up the aisle again. They didn’t have much time left and he still needed to grab a bottle of wine. But maybe he should skip that now and pick one up from the village when Scott wasn’t looking … Like an actual alcoholic.

‘Sneaking off to the beer tent at the lights switch-on, right before you started work,’ Scott said as he scuttled after Calvin. ‘Walking around the village in your pyjamas and passing out on the sofa.’

‘I told you that was because of your dad’s snoring.’

‘And I’ve seen you drinking Dad’s whiskey in the evenings,’ Scott continued as though Calvin hadn’t spoken. ‘When you thought I was in bed.’

‘Oh. That.’ Calvin
had
raided the whiskey a few evenings, but that was because he was stuck at home sewing nativity costumes. The booze helped to numb both his boredom and the pain of stabbing himself with needles and pins several thousand times. ‘Scott, having a glass or two of whiskey every now and then doesn’t make you an alcoholic. I don’t have a drinking problem, I promise you.’ They’d reached the wines and spirits aisle but Calvin ignored the bottles of wines and continued on to the checkout instead. ‘And your dad and I aren’t getting a divorce. I can’t believe you thought that.’

‘Why wouldn’t I?’ Scott helped to load the food onto the conveyor belt. ‘You’ve been acting so weird lately, and I don’t just mean the arguing. Dad’s started to get more interested in us, like he’s trying to get us on side.’

‘What do you mean?’ Calvin paid for the food and they grabbed a bag each.

‘He’s started to ask about school and homework and stuff.’

‘Your dad’s always been interested in that kind of thing.’

Scott gave Calvin another alien-species look. ‘No he hasn’t. Not even a little bit.’

The kid may have a point. But only a
teeny
one. ‘What else?’ Calvin checked his watch and increased his speed towards the bus stop.

‘He listens to my songs now,’ Scott said. ‘He’s given me a really cool idea for a song that I’m going to write.’

‘Oh.’ It seemed Calvin had some making up to do, and not just with his wife.

‘You’re different too,’ Scott said. ‘Less shout-y.’

‘Am I?’ At least Calvin was doing
something
right.

‘Yeah. It’s like you’ve stopped caring or something.’ Scott’s voice was quiet, barely audible over the increasing noise of the traffic as they neared the main road.

‘Huh? How does less shouting mean I don’t care?’

Scott shrugged his shoulders. ‘It’s like my room. You told me to tidy it the other day.’

‘Yes …’ Calvin remembered. The bedroom was pretty disgusting and still was. Calvin doubted Scott had tidied anything in there.

‘I didn’t tidy it.’ See? ‘Usually you’d have gone on and on and on about it until I actually tidied it but you haven’t said a word about it since. It’s like you don’t care that my room looks like the apocalypse happened three times over. Plus, you haven’t nagged about my homework for the past week, you forgot to wash my PE kit and, don’t get mad when I say this, but your cooking has gone downhill too. I used to like sausages; now I never want to see one ever again.’

‘Hey, I made burgers and chips the other day.’ Calvin was pretending to be offended but he couldn’t keep the amusement from his voice. The boy had a point.

‘Those were burgers? I thought you’d given us bits of old leather to eat.’ Scott grinned as Calvin ruffled his hair again.

‘They were a bit overdone.’

‘A bit?’ Scott laughed but his grin dimmed suddenly. ‘I’ll help out more, if it’ll help. I don’t want you and Dad to split up like Jack’s mum and dad.’

‘Is that why you offered to walk Miller this morning?’ Calvin and Scott had reached the bus stop. There was a bus trundling towards them. If the traffic was kind, they could make it just in time for Charlie.

‘It’s not fair that you have to do everything,’ Scott said, which only made Calvin feel like an even bigger jerk. If his thirteen-year-old son could see that, why had it taken a supernatural body-swap for Calvin to realise it?

‘Helping out a bit more would be brilliant, especially after Christmas. You’re growing up and you could take a bit more responsibility for yourself. But the same can be said for your dad. Things are a little bit strained at the minute, what with Christmas and some of your dad’s work things, but I promise things are going to change – for the better.’

The bus arrived and the two boarded.

‘So you’re not splitting up?’ Scott asked once they were seated.

Calvin shook his head. ‘No. Absolutely not.’

Chapter Twenty:
Good News/Bad News

Calvin and Scott pegged it through the village, the shopping bags swinging into their legs in their haste. Most of the children had already left but there were a few stragglers as the pair raced into the playground.

‘Sorry we’re late,’ Calvin wheezed as he reached the main entrance. Miss Daniels was standing with a tearful Charlie. Calvin checked his watch and couldn’t help feeling his daughter was being a tad overdramatic. It wasn’t as though they’d left Charlie at school overnight – they were less than ten minutes late.