Knit One Pearl One (13 page)

“Hi Jo. Mum said you were down here. Look, I’ve brought a new ball, to replace the one we broke.”

Ellen smiles. “Hi Martin, or should I say Morning, Captain? How did you manage to break a beach ball?”

“Trevor bit it, by mistake.”

“Naturally.”

I think I’ll make the tea now. We may be here for quite a while.

Harry’s carrying Eddie in what looks like a baby rucksack and playing football with the kids; Eddie seems delighted to be part of the action, though less convinced about Trevor. Martin’s in goal, and Pearl is digging a small tunnel. I don’t really blame her.

Ellen and I are sitting in the loungers, covered with bright orange parrot fabric, with jaunty flip-top sunshades with orange fringing.

“I hope to God nobody sees me.”

“I’ll have you know Gran’s very proud of these loungers, and you’ve got to admit they’re comfy.”

“They’d have to be, darling.”

“Tea?”

“Sure, unless you’ve got something stronger?”

“Black currant?”

I call halftime in the football match and make everyone have a hot drink.

“Thanks Jo, and I’m really sorry, but I can’t make it tomorrow, to the tea thing. That insurance client wants me in all day tomorrow, the whole system has crashed.”

“On a Sunday?”

“I know, but they’re paying double time, and I really need the money. Dad’s going to go in and feed Trevor, and I should be back by late Monday, but if you could pick Mum up, on the way to the party?”

“My car will be full, but I’ll ask Reg, or I’ll see if Max can add your dad to the guest list, would that be better?”

“That would be great.”

“Such a shame, when you rented your fancy dress outfit.”

He smiles. “I know.”

“Fancy dress? Christ darling, you didn’t tell me it was fancy dress.”

“It’s not, that was just for Martin.”

“It’s a shame, I was looking forward to it.”

Harry laughs. “You don’t need a hand, do you, mate? Not that I know anything about computers, but it’s got to be better than a tea party with the Diva and a load of media types. I get enough of that in town.”

“Harry. I’ve told you, you’re coming. Someone’s got to hold our beautiful boy while I network. Get over it.”

He pokes his tongue out at her, then asks Martin about the boat, and before we know it they’re talking about rope and special kinds of varnish, and Eddie starts getting fed up, so Ellen takes him down to watch the waves before coming back quite quickly and handing him back to Harry.

“It’s even colder down there. Why don’t you finish your game? He loved it when you were running around.”

Harry sighs. “Girls can play football now, you know, darling, if you fancy a game.”

“In these shoes? Go on, before he starts yelling.”

I’ve made a fish pie for supper, which is Ellen’s favorite, and after a fairly lively bath time, where I de-sand Pearl, she conks out with her bottle really early, and the boys do too, after so much running around on the beach. Archie’s battling to stay awake, but he’s in bed, with only his night-light on, so he won’t last five minutes. Ellen’s giving Eddie a bath and brings him downstairs wrapped in a baby towel with a hood, looking angelic.

“Here you are, one gorgeous boy. Ready for his good night kisses.”

I kiss him as she hands him to Harry.

“I don’t know if he’ll settle, he had quite a long sleep today. I’ll give it a go though. Come on, my boy; let’s see if your old dad can work his magic once again. Good night, ladies. I may be some time.”

“God, I need a drink. I love giving him his bath, he’s so adorable, but it’s knackering, isn’t it?”

“Yes, especially if you made the supper and are now doing the washing up.”

I hand her a tea towel.

“Are you serious, darling? What am I meant to do with this?”

“Dry the dishes?”

“And you haven’t got a dishwasher because?”

“There isn’t room, without moving all the cupboards around, and I haven’t got the money for that, or the time. I needed to get the shop and the café sorted first.”

“Fabulous ice cream today, darling; that blackberry sorbet was seriously good. That Connie’s a very lucky woman. I wish Harry could cook like that; maybe I can send him on a course or something. He is good with our boy though.”

“He’s great.”

“He wants us to get some backup child care sorted. He keeps on about how his life’s not his own anymore, and he needs to do the occasional freelance cameraman gig just to keep his eye in. Any views on au pairs versus nannies?”

“Au pairs are much cheaper, but they usually live in, and I don’t think you’d like that, would you?”

“If we had a bigger house maybe, and yes, before you say it, I know the new house has five bedrooms, but I think you need a special servant’s wing to really pull off having staff living in.”

“You’d only want someone part-time, wouldn’t you?”

“Yes, but still. I might delegate it to Harry. If he wants a nanny, he can call the agencies and come up with a short list, and I can just meet the ones he likes.”

Sometimes I’m amazed at how different Ellen is to me; I’d never have let Nick choose a nanny, if we’d ever had one. But then Nick would have just picked the most attractive one, whereas Harry is much more in tune with his boy. And actually, I don’t think there’s a law that says mums are responsible for sorting out the child care.

“Then if we have another one, we’ll be all set.”

“Two nannies?”

“No, you twit, another baby. Harry thinks we should; he thinks they work best in matching sets.”

“Do you want another one?”

“To be perfectly honest, no, not really. I adore him, obviously, more than life itself and all that, but I feel like I’ve done it now. I’ve got my motherhood badge. I’d quite like to be working on something new.”

“It’s not like the Girl Guides, Ellen.”

“It bloody is. There’s the Have a Proper Career badge, tick, Live Somewhere Smart, tick, Partner You Can Take to Dinner Parties, Not the Size of a House, Produce an Infant, tick tick tick. Now I want something new.”

“What about a Learn to Dry Up with a Tea Towel badge?”

She laughs. “Not really what I had in mind, darling.”

“If you go by those rules, I’ve hardly got any badges at all.”

“I know, darling, but you don’t care.”

“True.”

“It’s very annoying, actually.”

“What is?”

“How you always make the best of things, like a maternal version of fucking Pollyanna.”

“Well, there’s not much point in making the worst of things.”

“There you go again. When life gives you lemons, some of us hit the gin and tonic and use the lemons as a garnish, but not you, you’re off making bloody lemonade every time, aren’t you, darling?”

“I don’t like lemonade.”

“Do try to keep up. I mean you’re genuinely happy, aren’t you, and the kids are central to that.”

“Yes, I suppose I am. I love living here, being part of things and close to Gran. I felt so invisible when we lived in London, and I definitely didn’t have all my badges. Well, apart from a husband you could take to dinner parties, but we didn’t go to any.”

“Bastard.”

“Yes, but it takes two.”

“Oh not that again, it does not take two. It takes one to be doing the right thing, and one to be a bastard.”

“Maybe, but I did get stuck in a comfy little rut, and I really don’t want to do that again. I hardly thought about whether I was happy, let alone Nick. You’re much happier too now though, aren’t you?”

“Yes. I’m not sure I’d spend the rest of my life with Harry if we didn’t have Eddie, but we do. And it’s great, brilliant actually, but it is strange, you know, how we’ve all gone right back to staying together for the children.”

“Not all of us. Nick and I would have been divorced by now, for sure.”

“I know, darling, he was such an idiot. But what I meant was when did we miss out the bit where we got to choose? It was meant to be so liberating, but most of us just have to do three jobs now, the day job, and the wife and perfect bloody networker and hostess, and then we get to do the motherhood thing on top of all that. Most women I know are either stuck with some master of the universe, terrified he’s going to leave them, or they’re earning more than the boys, faintly bored but putting up with it because he does all the child care. My friend Liz, you remember the one who had that fling with that actor, she’s got two kids now, and her husband is such a prat. She’s not allowed to put anything in their dishwasher, he’s totally OCD about domestic stuff, practically washes your glass before you’ve taken your first sip.”

“But Harry’s not like that.”

“No, of course not, I’m not completely hopeless. The day I shack up with Domestic Demigod, who makes his own bread and won’t let you open the fridge in case you put the milk back on the wrong shelf, well, just shoot me. But I sometimes hanker, that’s all.”

“For?”

“I don’t know, that’s the point, something new. Don’t look at me like that. I work bloody hard, and sometimes I think, Is this it? Don’t you?”

“Of course.”

“Thank God for that. Even Pollyanna has her moments. And what do you decide?”

“Yes. This is it.”

“Great, that’s totally bloody inspirational.”

“What do you want me to say? It’s okay to go off and have a fling? I don’t think it is.”

“No, and neither do I, that’s the problem. If Harry ever did that to me, I’d kill him.”

We’re both laughing now.

“Every silver lining has its cloud, Ellen.”

“Yes, and I’ve got my new series to obsess about anyway; that’ll keep me out of trouble.”

“Is that definite now?”

“Yes. Signed off and everything, contracts done, half an hour weekday mornings, starting next month. Just me and no bloody has-been male anchors cluttering up my set.”

“That’s fantastic, Ellen, well done.”

She sits down at the kitchen table, still holding the tea towel. I’ve nearly finished the drying, but I hand her a glass. “Dry it, and we can have a drink to celebrate.”

“You’re on. Just what I need, nice large vodka and tonic. And I think your Diva would be an ideal first guest you know, darling.”

“Ellen, you promised.”

“I know, but she’ll be doing PR for her new film. Have a word, would you?”

“What, ask her to agree to go on your new program and spill the beans on her personal life like she’s never done before, that kind of thing?”

“Ideally, yes.”

“No.”

“I am your best girlfriend, darling, there must be some perks.”

“I’ll knit you something.”

“Actually, that might work.”

“Sorry?”

“She can come on and knit, and you can be on too, as her official knitting coach. It would be fabulous for business, darling, and it would give it a hook, add to her general profile stuff, they’ll like that. Is her agent going to be there tomorrow?”

“Ed, yes, I think so.”

“Fine, I’ll have a quiet word.”

“You will not. You promised. Bruno will throw you out.”

“Okay, okay. God, you’re bossy. When did you get so bossy?”

“When I woke up one morning and found I’d got three kids and a shop to run?”

“I know, it’s a complete choker, isn’t it? The other day I woke up and I was still half asleep and there was this terrible noise. Harry was having a bath with Eddie and singing to him, and I thought, Christ, how did that happen? It was a bit scary, like I was in a parallel universe, and I’d been having this great dream about Brad Pitt.”

“And you were?”

“Angelina, obviously.”

She hands me a vodka, with very little tonic.

“God, that’s strong.”

“It’s meant to be, darling, otherwise it doesn’t work. So how are you and Dovetail then?”

“Fine.”

“I think we need a bit better than fine, don’t we?”

“It’s good. It’s just, well, the last time he came round, I fell asleep.”

“Fell asleep in the middle of—”

“Yes, thank you. I really don’t want to go into details.”

She’s trying not to laugh. Which is annoying.

“Well, that happens sometimes, darling.”

“He was making the coffee, and I fell asleep, that’s all. Look, let’s talk about something else.”

“What, like how lovely our babies are? Boring. How crap work is? Boring. Sex and drugs and rock and roll are my specialist subjects, darling.”

“What drugs?”

“Well okay, mostly vodka, but come on, Share. I’m not going to let this one go.”

“There’s nothing to share. He was really sweet about it, left me a note and everything. It was just, well, it can’t be a good sign, can it?”

“But you do have passionate moments?”

“Yes, sort of. It’s not really Martin’s style, or mine, but we have our moments.”

“Maybe you need to dress up as a tree or something, since he’s so into Wood. Makes a change from those bloody nurse uniforms.”

“Ellen, shut up.”

“Sorry darling. But honestly, you have to make a bit of an effort, you know. Role play, surprise him, that kind of thing. Dress up as a French maid in the middle of the afternoon, although why they have to be bloody French escapes me, the only French women I know would give you very short shrift if you tried to get them into a black nylon miniskirt.”

“And what do I do with the children then, when I’m surprising people in fancy dress at teatime, tell them to put their hands over their eyes and count to one hundred?”

“What about the shop? You could come up and have a great time there, dress up as a nurse and show him all about proper First Aid in the Workplace.”

“That’s a brilliant idea, and then when his mother wanders in and has a heart attack, it’ll be handy to be in the right kind of uniform, for when the ambulance turns up.”

We’re both nearly hysterical with laughing now.

“It’s tricky, Ellen. I can’t leave the kids, and he can’t be away all night or Trevor will eat the barn. So we end up having supper at home, and then we sit in front of the fire—”

“And shag like rabbits.”

“Ellen, please.”

“Just spice it up a bit.”

“Spicy things make my mouth go numb, and then I’m sick.”

“Well don’t put anything in your mouth, darling.”