Authors: Katie Fforde
‘Absolutely not. Annabelle’s brothers love it, don’t they? Jody says they do. And it’s smaller for one thing, remember. And you’ve met your teacher already.’
The head teacher, Felicity, had arranged a little party in the holidays for children new to the area who hadn’t already met their teacher, and so neither she nor the other children were completely strange to Rory. Sian had been enchanted by the welcoming quality of the classroom, the interesting and varied material on the walls and the warm and nurturing attitude of the staff. She’d worry about the complete lack of racial and cultural mix such a cosy environment could provide another time.
‘And I do know the children, don’t I? From play scheme?’
‘You do. Annabelle is your best friend.’ Sian didn’t say it, but she recognised Annabelle as the sort of feisty little girl who would protect Rory should he need it.
‘And I’m good at lessons. I can nearly read!’
‘So there’s nothing whatever to worry about, is there?’ she said, giving him a reassuring hug.
After this little chat, Rory seemed to think that school was going to be brilliant. She was glad Rory now felt excited about the prospect but she also felt a little sad. While she relished the prospect of having more time to work she knew she’d miss him. She would appreciate not having to pay for the play scheme though. And now Rory seemed happier she could concentrate on worrying about Gus – again.
She hadn’t heard from him since the weekend, which was slightly unsettling. She’d been sort of hoping he’d check out houses with her and then there was the more important issue of when to tell Rory about Gus being his father. They’d been so caught up with each other over the weekend they hadn’t really talked about more serious issues. They’d planned to tell Rory together and he was going to school next week – but where
was
Gus?
In the end Sian gave up waiting and rang the house. Fiona answered and said he wasn’t in and how busy he’d been lately. Sian waited a day and then, sacrificing her pride, she rang again. This time Fiona had said he couldn’t come to the phone. She sounded almost guilty and Sian didn’t press her or leave a message. Suddenly there didn’t seem any point.
She tried to convince herself it was fine. Of course he was busy! He was finishing his book and goodness knew what else. She wouldn’t be neurotic about it. Why should she mistrust him?
But somehow, like a tiny splinter, hardly visible to the naked eye, the doubt festered in her.
She wouldn’t have worried so much if she hadn’t been sure she heard Melissa’s laugh in the background when she’d been on the phone to Fiona. Suddenly she couldn’t help worrying that history was about to repeat itself. She couldn’t talk to Fiona because she wasn’t sure if Gus had told her about the weekend. Men weren’t as open about such things with their mothers as women tended to be. Then she told herself she was getting herself into a state unnecessarily. There would be a perfectly reasonable explanation. She had plenty of things to keep her mind occupied: she was due to go over and make a start on Veronica’s wardrobes that afternoon whilst Rory was at Annabelle’s, who was also spending time at home before school started.
And then Sian had another thought. Richard. What was she going to do about him? She suddenly felt terribly guilty. He was away for another fortnight, but then he would want to talk about things, and possibly ask her to marry him. How could she explain to him that she didn’t love him, and so couldn’t be with him? She couldn’t tell him that she’d fallen in love with Gus (not that she’d told Gus that and he certainly hadn’t mentioned the ‘L’ word), that would just add salt to the wound. And anyway, could she be absolutely certain she had a future with Gus either? And what was best for Rory? Just when she thought life was getting simpler again a coachload of worries and questions had arrived demanding answers.
Now, sitting with Rory in the garden, she had another wobble. She’d just had a blissful weekend with Gus, but where was he now and why wouldn’t he come to the phone? Had he perhaps seduced her just to prove that he could? It certainly hadn’t felt as if that was what was going on, but presumably men who treated women like that were very practised at ensuring that their seductions felt genuine.
Sian was brought back to the present by a tugging at her sleeve. It was Rory asking her if he could show Annabelle his new name tags and could he try his uniform on one more time? Thank heavens for Rory and something practical to do – although if it hadn’t been for him she wouldn’t be in this predicament, she thought wryly.
In the end it was Fiona who rang Sian.
‘I thought, if you’d like to, it would be fun if you and Rory came up here for tea on Sunday? A little pre-school celebration?’
‘Is that like people having a celebration of someone’s life, rather than a funeral?’ Sian wasn’t sure why the prospect of Rory going to school suddenly seemed so gloomy, but it did.
Fiona made sympathetic noises. ‘Well, it is the end of an era, isn’t it? And cake always makes everything feel better.’
‘Will Gus be there?’ Sian concentrated on sounding nonchalant, as if they hadn’t spent two days in bed together, more or less, and then had no contact with each other.
‘Yes.’
‘Oh good. We decided we should tell Rory about him being his dad before he went to school. Sunday will be the last opportunity to do that.’
‘Of course. I’m sorry he’s been so—’
‘Oh, you don’t need to apologise! It’s no big deal.’
‘It is quite a big deal and I must say I think it’s very bad of him to leave it so late but, in his defence, he has been—’
‘Busy, I know. It’s all right.’
She must have made a good job of sounding lighthearted and relaxed because she heard Fiona sigh with relief. ‘Till Sunday then,’ Fiona said. ‘About three thirty? Then if Angus decides he needs to make a fire or something, there’ll be time.’
That Sunday, Gus galloped down the stairs to join Fiona, Sian and Rory in the kitchen where they were eating tea. At least he’s here, thought Sian. He’d come out of hiding for his son, even if he wouldn’t even come to the phone for her.
He swooped on Rory, picked him up, tossed him in the air and generally threw him around until he was squealing. ‘Who’s the big man then? Going to school, are we?’
‘Yes,’ said Rory, giggling hysterically.
That’s not father behaviour, thought Sian, that’s wild younger uncle behaviour. Richard would never be so rough with Rory. And then a pang of guilt assailed her, adding to her growing doubts.
‘Sit down, do,’ said Fiona, possibly feeling the same as Sian did. ‘Rory will bring his tea back up if you’re not careful.’
‘In a minute. Got to say hello to my best girl.’ Then Gus kissed Sian on the lips, giving her a look that made him seem even more like a wicked uncle than a responsible father. Sian ducked out of the way before it could go too far. How much did Fiona know? Probably everything, the way Gus was behaving. But she wasn’t going to let him think he could act as if nothing had happened and he hadn’t been ignoring her for the last week.
While Fiona was tending to her son and grandson Sian found herself asking: which would she rather sleep with? The wicked uncle or the dad? Then she sighed at her answer.
‘Gus, we need to have a quick chat, on our own,’ said Sian, while Rory and Fiona were pre-occupied with the cake, which was a miniature version of the dragon that Penny had made for his birthday party. Fiona had made it, she claimed, ‘to give her the chance to play with all the pretty sugary things’.
‘We do? Well, let’s wait until we’ve had tea. Hey, Rory? I’ve got something for you.’ He handed Rory a small parcel wrapped in tissue paper.
‘It’s a dragon!’ said Rory when he’d opened it.
‘Did you make that?’ said Fiona, sounding incredulous. ‘It’s lovely!’
‘It is,’ said Sian softly, admiring the perfectly carved scales, claws and nostrils on the wooden creature that her son was turning over and over in his hands. ‘You can do carving, why can’t you draw?’
‘It’s whittling really and dragons are supposed to be rough and scaly. I know where I am with a knife. Talking of which, are you going to cut that cake or just look at it? Here, use this.’ From his belt he produced a knife that no woman would ever let a child use. Neither Sian nor Fiona said anything.
Rory managed very well, using the knife carefully, helped by Gus. He gave everyone a slice.
‘So, are you going to give your dragon a name?’ said Gus, just as Sian was trying to catch his eye so they could discuss when to tell Rory about his father.
‘Yes, that would be a good idea,’ said Sian. ‘You could take it to school with you, tucked away in your bag.’
‘Then you’d have a friend with you,’ said Fiona.
‘I’ve got lots of friends at school already,’ said Rory proudly. ‘But I will take my dragon too,’ he added, anxious not to offend Gus.
‘You can leave it at home or take it with you, whichever you like,’ said Gus. ‘No pressure.’
‘So, are you going to give him a name?’ asked Fiona.
‘Don’t know,’ said Rory, fingering the little toy lovingly. ‘What should I call him?’
‘That’s up to you, mate,’ said Gus. ‘You could call him Bill, or something. Or think of something dragony.’
‘What’s dragony? I mean, what’s a dragony name?’ asked Rory.
‘Please don’t feel obliged to call him Puff,’ said Fiona. ‘We’ll be singing the tune all evening.’
‘Not Puff then,’ said Rory, accepting it was not a popular choice. ‘I think Bill. Bill the dragon.’
‘I like that!’ said Sian. ‘None of that poncy alliteration for you.’
Rory looked at her. ‘Is that one of Grandpa’s big words?’
‘Yes,’ said Sian. ‘It means having words that begin with the same letter but don’t worry about it. You won’t have to know that until you’re much bigger.’
‘I’m bigger now.’
Sian, despairing of getting Gus alone, decided to plunge in and say what was on her mind. There was no time like the present. She took a deep breath and launched straight in, before she had time to change her mind. ‘You are! And because you’re such a big boy, Gus and I have decided to tell you something.’
Fiona made to get up but Sian put her hand on her arm to keep her at the table. She caught Gus’s eye and he nodded slightly.
‘You know how lots of people have a mummy and a daddy and you’ve only had a mummy?’
‘And your grandparents,’ put in Fiona.
‘Yes?’ Rory was playing with his dragon, not greatly interested.
‘Well, you have got a daddy—’
‘And it’s me!’ Gus interjected, clearly – and understandably – keen to be part of the announcement. ‘How about that?’
‘Cool,’ said Rory, still fiddling. ‘Does that mean I can have a knife?’
Sian didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. Quite how she expected Rory to react she didn’t know, but this hadn’t been one of the scenarios she’d run through in her head.
‘Next birthday, mate, if you’re really, really careful with it,’ said Gus.
Fiona and Sian looked at each other and laughed.
‘I think it’s time for a glass of wine,’ said Fiona.
Gus walked Sian and Rory home later. When Rory ran ahead into the house, Gus kissed her. When he let her go he said, ‘See you tomorrow. Eight thirty?’
Sian nodded and then watched as he turned and went home. What was really going on with him? She was more confused than ever. He’d virtually ignored her for the last week and then acted as if nothing had changed. Had he just been taking advantage of her when they’d spent that time together? Or was he really the nice and thoughtful man he sometimes seemed? It was so sweet of him to give Rory the dragon and he’d made it so much easier than she thought it would be telling Rory about his father. He seemed serious about being a good dad, but what about the two of them? How did he really feel about her?
Once she’d fed, bathed and popped an excited Rory to bed and they’d discussed again how great school was going to be, she decided to finish painting a toy chest she’d started as a ‘thank you’ present for Jody. It was just what she needed to keep her mind off things.
Gus called for them the next morning promptly at half past eight, and the three of them set off together. It was a lovely day but Rory was happy in his school uniform of grey shorts and blue sweatshirt. He had a new satchel on his back, bought for him by Penny and hidden away until this morning, and at the bottom, under his packed lunch, was Bill the Dragon.
Sian carried his PE kit in the bag with his name embroidered on it. She had considered embroidering a little dragon, to match the one she’d painted on his name board, but had decided it was too fiddly, and he might grow out of dragons. Although she hoped not, for Bill’s sake.
‘The thing about school is, there are girls there,’ said Gus.
‘I know that. Annabelle’s a girl. She’s my friend.’
‘My brother and I thought girls were weird,’ Gus went on, not perturbed by Rory’s casual attitude to the opposite sex. ‘We didn’t know any until we went to primary school, and then we were sent away to school, where there weren’t any. It explains a lot.’ He looked at Sian meaningfully.
She smiled, as she was supposed to, glad that Gus was there to stop either her or Rory getting too serious about this going-to-school business.
Rory saw his form teacher waiting with some of the children in his class. He ran towards her, giving his parents a casual wave. ‘Laters!’ he said.
Gus and Sian looked at each other. ‘Where did he pick that up from?’ said Sian.
‘Not from me, mate.’ He took her hand. ‘Do you want me to come with you when Melissa and her wrecking crew come round?’
Sian was a bit embarrassed by this public display. The mothers she’d met knew she was single; now here she was, in the playground, holding hands with a gorgeous man. She didn’t want anyone thinking she was the sort of woman who couldn’t do anything without her boyfriend. Thank goodness for Jody!
‘Hey, you guys! Gus, how nice of you to support Sian, and how typical of the little beasts that they just run in and take no notice of us! Are you coming for a coffee?’
‘No thanks,’ said Sian. ‘I’ve got Melissa coming round to measure up the house.’