Wonder Women (19 page)

By the time Serena turned fourteen, Mel found she was sharing her home with a sullen girl whose hair hung over her heavily made-up eyes, who slouched, kept earphones in at all times and wore a shocking pink, puffy body warmer over everything: jeans, her school uniform, her weekend outfit of too-short skirt, tights and Ugg boots. She spoke in monosyllables and exuded resentment from every pore. School, where she had always excelled, was suddenly ‘boring', and her marks began to drop. And, in a heart-breaking blow to Mel's hopes for her, her piano practice tailed off and stopped, and she refused to go for any more lessons or gradings.

Then it got worse. Their system, since Serena was eleven, was that she would walk home from school alone and text Mel as soon as she was in the flat. Mel would then ring her on the landline as soon as she had a free moment at work and they would have a quick catch-up about their day. Mel could predict within a few minutes when Serena would text; the school was only a short walk from their home. But then the texts gradually started to come through later and later. If she rang Serena's mobile to check, Serena would hiss into the phone, ‘Don't phone me! I'm almost home! I'm walking with Marina, okay?' And later, she would berate Mel for embarrassing her in front of her friends. After a while the texts started coming at the appointed time, but if Mel rang
the landline Serena wouldn't answer. If she then rang Serena's mobile she would say she hadn't heard the phone, or that she'd just stepped out to take the rubbish to the bin. They were the most unconvincing stories Mel had ever heard. As far as she knew, it was the first time her daughter had lied to her. It broke her heart, but she knew if she persisted in nagging, or insisted that Serena ring her back from the landline to prove she was actually home, there would be another flaming row and Serena would lie more and tell her less.

As the months passed, things only got worse. Mel felt she was treading on eggshells all the time. Any question she asked, whether it was about school, or friends, or plans for the weekend, was taken the wrong way. Serena accused her of prying, of being controlling, and constantly of trying to spoil her fun. It was appalling, because Mel could see no way to get through to her. The sweet child she'd raised had disappeared, to be replaced with this sullen and selfish girl. Mel didn't like her very much, but she couldn't stop loving her, and constantly fearing for her safety and her future.

Mel, standing at her office window, sighed. It was dark outside. Serena was now fifteen, and they were living an uneasy truce, but only, Mel knew, because she was asking no questions at all now. She no longer expected a text from Serena after school, and she was sure her daughter usually came home only minutes before she got in from work herself. Serena stuck roughly to the curfew Mel gave her, but only because she knew Mel would cut off her allowance if she didn't. It was a far from ideal situation, but Mel consoled herself by thinking that she'd seen no evidence of drink or
drugs, and Serena seemed happy to hang around with her friends from the girls' school and there were no boys on the horizon. Most aspects of her ‘rebellion' seemed pretty innocent so far. If any of these more hazardous things should present themselves, well … to be honest, Mel didn't know what she would do.

She glanced at her watch. It was 5.15. Nearly time to go. She wandered into the tiny kitchenette, which was already clean and tidy, and absent-mindedly wiped the sink and the countertop one more time. Then she meandered back to the window. She could see down on to the platform at Finchley Central Tube station. There were crowds of commuters returning from work. As she watched, a train from London pulled in and a great knot of people spilled out and began filing towards the stairs. She watched them disinterestedly, but a flash of bright pink caught her eye, only because it was the same cerise as the puffa jacket Serena always wore. She looked again. Although the person wearing the jacket was far away, it really did look just like the jacket Serena wore. And the wearer was about the same height and build with dark hair.

Mel watched as the figure disappeared into the stairwell, and she waited to see if she would come out of the station exit and walk up the hill towards the building. She did, and as she stepped under a streetlight, it was instantly clear that it was Serena – Serena in ordinary clothes, not school uniform. She was walking with a tall, skinny person, almost certainly male, although Mel couldn't tell for sure because he or she had a hoody on with the hood up concealing their face. It wasn't someone Mel recognised. Serena was laughing,
and she saw her point at Mel's building and say something. On the corner of the main road, she said goodbye to the tall person, who headed off up the high street. Serena jogged in the opposite direction, obviously hurrying to get home before Mel left the office.

Mel felt cold. There was no way Serena could have gone home after school, changed, caught the Tube into town and got back by 5.15. She must have bunked school. Mel had obviously been kidding herself. Whatever Serena was up to, it obviously wasn't totally innocent, and it wasn't harmless. She was going to have to do something, something decisive and firm, before Serena went off the rails completely. The trouble was, she didn't have a clue what.

They had all learned a great deal in the few days they had been open, not least that there was an endless amount of tidying and cleaning involved in the day-to-day operation of the shop. At 7 a.m. on the day of the launch party, Jo was crawling around the shop on her hands and knees. She had a bottle of white spirit and some cosmetic cotton pads, and she was cleaning scuff marks off the walls where crowds of energetic little boys had kicked and scraped them. They were all exhausted to the point of slightly hysterical giggling. Lee stood at the counter compiling press packs, Zach was playing quietly with a puzzle and Imogene was asleep in her pushchair. Holly and Mel were filling balloons from a helium canister they had hired, occasionally breathing some in and launching into a chipmunk-style rendition of ‘I will survive', and Mel's fifteen-year-old daughter Serena, who had reluctantly been dragged along, had been sent to stand outside the coffee shop and bring back caffeine and sugar supplies the minute the place opened.

When Serena returned, she was greeted with a cheer and they all gathered around the counter with their cups
and muffins to go over the plans for the day. ‘The photographer will be here at nine,' Jo said, checking her list. ‘She'll get some shots of the shop before people arrive. The cupcake lady said she'd deliver between nine and nine thirty. What time is the face painter arriving?'

‘I asked her to be here before ten to set up. I thought we could put her table over there,' Holly said, pointing to one of the back corners of the shop.

‘Maybe on the other side,' Mel said. That's right in the way of the coconut ball-throwing game. She might not appreciate being hit on the head with a coconut, even if it is a soft foam-rubber one.'

‘Good point,' said Jo. ‘On the other side then. Mel, what are the RSVPs looking like?'

‘Well, if everyone who's said they're coming comes, we'll have people queuing outside all day,' said Mel.

‘That's great. We can probably count on half to two-thirds of them actually showing up. As long as there's a buzz in here the whole day, I'll be happy.'

‘What's the final word on the press?' Holly asked.

‘Both local papers are coming – that reminds me, they're also bringing photographers. But they said they want candid shots of the shop full of people, not set-up shots. We've got two listings magazines coming – both have said they'll do an editorial piece on us if we buy an ad, and at last count, about five mummy bloggers.'

‘That's amazing!' Holly said admiringly.

‘Well, that was my job.' Jo smiled. ‘Getting bums on seats.'

‘Fabulous,' Holly said. ‘Now, if we're all done, I want to check stock one last time. We made quite a few late sales
yesterday, and I want to make sure we have everything out that we need.'

‘Balloons,' said Mel. ‘Serena, can you give me a hand? We need another twenty or so.'

As her team headed off to complete their tasks, Jo reached for her bottle of spirit, but Lee put his hand on her wrist and drew her into his arms.

‘There might not be time to say it later, and we'll probably be too knackered tonight, so I'm telling you now that I'm so proud of you my heart could burst.' He kissed her sweetly and then more passionately, and for a second they forgot the shop, the other people in the room and their two children in the back office. Serena broke the spell by snorting and yelling, ‘Get a room!'

Jo giggled and stepped away, but as she turned she saw both Holly and Mel looking a little wistful.

From nine thirty, half an hour before they were even due to open, there was already a small crowd outside, peering in through the windows. Mel and Serena had done an impressive job with the balloons, and the shop looked like party central both outside and in. Daniel and Chris arrived to lend a hand and to bring additional T-shirt stock, for which Holly was very grateful. The last-minute tasks took them right up to ten o'clock, when Jo gathered everyone together. ‘This is it, people,' she said. ‘Thank you for all your work and patience. Today is make or break. Let's make it count!' Then she took a deep breath, walked over to the door and turned the key.

First through the door were Lee's parents, who had come to fetch Zach and Imogene and take them back to their house
in Pinner for the rest of the day. They were full of admiration, and Lee's mum insisted on buying a few T-shirts for Zach, even though Jo said she shouldn't, and that Zach had all the clothes he needed. At points in the morning, the shop was uncomfortably full, and Lee, Daniel and Chris took turns to be doorman and restrict the flow of people into the room. At the busiest point, Serena said a mumbled goodbye and slunk off, pretending not to hear Mel's questions about where she was going and when she might be home. The photographers from the local papers had arrived, and were struggling to get shots in the crush, and Jo had to elbow a few paying customers aside so they could take the pictures they needed. Mel was on hand to smooth ruffled feathers with a free cupcake and an offer of face-painting for the little ones, and everyone seemed to go away happy.

Miranda came with her children and Holly's mum, who was a little overwhelmed by the noise and buzz, not to mention the constant risk of being knocked flying by a fast-moving small boy at waist-height. Holly eventually ushered her next door to the coffee shop and got her a cup of tea and a bun. Miranda oohed and ahed, and bought a few things for Oscar. Holly was rushed off her feet refilling the racks, answering questions on sizing and giving advice to customers. Chris and Daniel had stuck around and they proved invaluable, fetching and carrying, and it turned out Chris was a dab hand with an iron (he told Holly he had learned in the cadets at school), so eventually he just stayed in the back room, pressing things and putting them on hangers for Daniel to bring out.

There was a brief lull around lunchtime, but only long
enough for Mel to run a Hoover around the floor and for everyone to do a quick tidy and regroup. The afternoon rush was slightly less frantic than the morning, but the shop was still constantly full. At around three, Jo looked up and saw Louise, the woman who had run the business course, come through the door, holding the hand of a little boy of about three, with flaming red hair. She was no longer pregnant, and the tall man she was with, who was handsome and greying, had a tiny baby in a sling on his front. There was another couple with them, with toddler twins in a double buggy. Louise came over and greeted Jo with a hug and a kiss.

‘You did it! This is absolutely fantastic!' she said with warmth and enthusiasm. ‘I'm not even slightly surprised you got it off the ground, but it's even better than I could have imagined! And I'm so thrilled you connected with Daniel and Chris. They emailed to tell me you gave them their big break.' She introduced her husband, Adam, and her little boy, Peter. Adam shook Jo's hand, and gently tipped forward to show her the sleeping infant on his chest. ‘This is Florence,' he said. His voice was deep and Scottish, and the pride he clearly felt was unmistakable.

‘This is my sister, Rachel, and her husband, Richard,' said Louise, indicating their companions, ‘and their twins, Jago and Xanthe.'

Jo left Louise and her entourage to have a look around, and went to spend a little time chatting up one of the influential local mummy bloggers who had just arrived. The blogger wanted a few pictures, so Jo asked Louise if she could borrow her little boy, who was very sweet-looking. They
slipped one of the Monkeyman T-shirts on over what he was wearing, and he posed patiently for a few pics, playing with some of the equipment, holding a balloon and having his face painted.

Jo couldn't help noticing, out of the corner of her eye, that Louise's sister's twins, now out of their pushchair, were a pair of destructive and under-disciplined monsters. The little boy – Jago, was it? – was a thrower: he hurled balls, bricks and anything else he could get his hands on. He almost flung a cupcake with deadly accuracy at a rack of white T-shirts. Luckily Holly, who was also watching in horror, stopped him at the last second. His sister was a whiner, and if she didn't get her way, a screamer. The mother seemed mostly preoccupied with trying to placate her, mainly by pleading and offering all sorts of bribes. Louise's brother-in-law, a tall, blond man who looked extremely posh, seemed too preoccupied to help with his children at all. He was walking around the shop, scrutinising every item of clothing, then squatting down to look at the play equipment. Jo was rather surprised. She wouldn't have thought it was his kind of thing. He didn't pick anything up, so he clearly wasn't interested in shopping for his kids. Then she saw him make his way over to the counter and engage Lee, who was on till duty, in conversation. Jo turned her attention back to the blogger, who had finished taking pictures and had an enormous list of questions for her.