Chapter 21 #2
She got changed as I folded the clothes she discarded, then tied up about seventeen sets of ribbons down the back of her dress, wondering what the school would do if parents or other adults weren’t available to help.
I hadn’t met a teacher yet. I had laid out the clips and bands Astrid had given me and started brushing Sofia’s hair, when a woman with a startlingly smooth and immobile face glided over to us.
‘Eugenia Tytherington-Smythe,’ she said by way of introduction. ‘This is my daughter, Vienna.’ A child with dark blonde hair and a furious expression scowled at me as I stammered a greeting. ‘Are you the nanny?’ continued Eugenia.
‘No,’ I replied. ‘I’m, er, well, I…’
I tailed off, not exactly sure what to say without going into details of the family that were none of this woman’s business. As a nurse I am trained to be extremely discreet. Sofia had not got the memo.
‘She’s Great-Granny’s nurse and Uncle Nick’s girlfriend,’ she piped up. ‘And she’s very good at doing hair.’
Eugenia’s expression didn’t – couldn’t? – change, although she darted her eyes at me sharply.
‘I see. Well, please don’t use those’ – she jabbed a finger at the things laid out on the desk – ‘in Sofia’s hair.
We have decided to keep Vienna’s classic and tasteful, and the photographs and video will look all wrong if Sofia has all this.
My other daughter, Camilla, has a very large speaking part, so we have professional videographers coming. ’
I glanced at Sofia, who was looking worried. I know what a lovely day out she had spent with Astrid and India choosing the special hair accessories, and how much she was looking forward to wearing them.
‘I’m sorry,’ I said. ‘The school guidelines said they could have whatever they wanted in their hair, as long as it went with the costumes, which these do.’
‘I did put a message on the class WhatsApp,’ said Eugenia, raising her voice slightly so that a hush fell over the room and everyone turned to listen. ‘Everyone else has agreed.’
Did she think I was going to be intimidated? I had taken on scarier people than Eugenia Tytherington-Smythe in my time.
‘I don’t think any of us are on the WhatsApp,’ I said, also making my voice a little louder and clearer. ‘Sofia chose these things specially, so that’s what she will be wearing.’
I ignored the heavy silence and started brushing Sofia’s hair into two high bunches. I secured them with bands that had glittery chiffon streamers, then picked up some crystal encrusted clips.
‘Two of these in each side, right, darling?’ I asked her, and she nodded.
‘If you’re putting them in, I think I will, too,’ said a voice from the other side of the room. I looked over to see a woman taking a small plastic bag out of her pocket. ‘I brought them just in case.’ She shot me a grin, which I returned.
‘I’ve got masses here if anyone wants to share?’ said another woman, and soon there was a hubbub as the sparkly contraband was produced from handbags and pockets.
Avoiding her mother’s eyes, which I feared might turn me to stone, I smiled at Vienna.
‘Would you like to borrow something? We’ve got plenty.’
She curled her lip at me.
‘No,’ she said, and turned to walk back to her desk, her mother stalking after her.
‘There you go,’ I said to Sofia. ‘You look fab.’
I dug my phone out and took a photo so she could see herself.
‘I love it, Laura!’ she said, starting to bounce again. ‘Will you send it to Mummy?’
‘I don’t have her number, I’m afraid, but I’ll send it to Uncle Nick and he can pass it on, okay?’
She skipped off to see her friends while I attached the photo to a message, hoping that Nick was back from Exeter and waiting in the audience:
Sofia says please can you send this to Victoria? She is very excited! I have made an enemy of someone called Eugenia, by contravening hair accessory dictates.
A message pinged straight back.
Sent it on, thanks. We’re all here, tell S break a leg. It’s easy to make an enemy of ET-S, she loathes Astrid because she wouldn’t pay for India to go to Camilla’s birthday party. See you soon, we’re in the second row, got a seat saved for you.
Relieved, I pushed my phone back into my pocket and went to kiss Sofia goodbye and wish her luck, as a tall, smiling woman came into the room.
‘Thank you, everyone, time to go and find your seats now, I’ll take it from here.’
We all began gathering their belongings together, when Eugenia’s loud voice cut over the noise.
‘Mrs Accrington? I do think the girls should remove the hair adornments and everyone should have a simpler look, like Vienna. The Princes’ help wasn’t aware of my request on the WhatsApp group for a more tasteful approach.’
Mrs Accrington’s experienced eyes roamed over the pair, then around the room, landing on Sofia and finally me.
‘I think you all look amazing,’ she said warmly. ‘It’s Laura, isn’t it?’ I nodded. ‘Astrid told me you’d be here to help, thank you. Now, you’d all better go and sit down, it’s nearly time to start.’
Eugenia stood rigidly by the door as the rest of us left. I wouldn’t have put it past her to try to pluck the offending items from the girls’ hair as they left, but I had a feeling that Mrs Accrington, friendly though she was, had methods for dealing with parents like her.
The school hall was jammed, but as soon as I came in, I saw Astrid leap up and wave frantically at me.
I climbed over legs to get to my seat between her and Nick, saying a hurried hello to everyone as the lights went down.
I felt Nick’s hand close over mine where it lay on my leg, setting off a turmoil of emotions that was almost unbearable.
Taking a shaky breath, I forced myself to concentrate on the boy who had walked onto the stage dressed in jeans and a gold waistcoat and clutching a microphone.
‘Thankyouallforcomingthiseveningwelcomeandwehopeyouenjoytheshowhappychristmas,’ he gabbled before exiting abruptly.
Everyone clapped uncertainly as the lights went down then very rapidly up again, revealing a girl in a blue dress kneeling in the middle of the stage.
This was safer territory, and we sat back, ready for the familiar story to unfold.
Sofia made an early appearance as a snowflake fluttering around the angel Gabriel as he announced Mary’s pregnancy.
I was glad to see that both her smile and her hairclips were still firmly in place.
The scenes followed their time-honoured pattern, and soon Mary and Joseph and the donkey – a bored-looking girl who kept pushing back her long, floppy ears until they fell off altogether – arrived in Bethlehem.
The First Innkeeper had an extravagant eyeliner moustache that made him look like Dick Dastardly, and growled his way through his lines before sending Mary and Joseph on their way and slamming his cardboard door with as much threatening élan as he could muster, earning himself a spontaneous round of applause.
The Second Innkeeper was more laconic, opening her door, glancing the weary couple up and down and saying ‘Yeah?’ Upon enquiring about a room, Mary and Joseph were met with a look of disgust so withering that a pantomime ripple went around the audience.
This energised the Second Innkeeper, who embarked upon an apparently unscripted soliloquy, which ranged in subject from the cost of living to the difficulty of getting hold of eggs that year in Bethlehem and ended with the advice that next time they wanted a room they should reserve one in advance on By now the entire audience had perked up and was in stitches, all except Eugenia Tytherington-Smythe who was fuming and hissing loudly at Mrs Accrington to move things along before Camilla’s artistic preparations were derailed.
‘Oh, no,’ replied the teacher, who had joined in the laughter as much as anyone. ‘We do like to encourage spontaneity in our students, and this piece of improvisation is splendid.’
The Second Innkeeper was now cosily offering to see if she could make up a bed in the breakfast lounge (‘I’m sure my other guests won’t mind’), when she was brought back on track by Joseph, who had finally managed to stop giggling and suggested that they might need more privacy.
‘No problem, ducks,’ said the Second Innkeeper. ‘Try up the road, he’ll be full, too, but he’s got a nice stable. Pop by with the littl’un, won’t you?’
By now Eugenia was practically foaming at the mouth, as her daughter’s prize line about the stable had been pre-empted by the Second Innkeeper, who was now cheerily waving the couple off and shouting advice about childbirth as poor Camilla opened her door and was completely upstaged, despite her stunning and historically accurate costume that her mother had bullied a seamstress friend into making.
Eventually, the Second Innkeeper withdrew, and Joseph repeated his line that had already been drowned out once.
Camilla replied in her very loud and monotonal voice, causing crueller audience members to giggle again, only to be quelled by a vicious look from Eugenia.
‘Don’t put your daughter on the stage, Mrs Worthington,’ whispered Nick to me. ‘As Noel Coward put it. Poor Camilla, she’s far happier on the football pitch, if only her mother would allow it.’
Eventually, Mary and Joseph were admitted to the stable, and the action moved to the nearby fields.
India trooped on with her little sheep, most of whom were looking at her adoringly and one of whom was determined to do nothing more than systematically unravel every single cotton wool ball his mother had glued onto his T-shirt.
By the time the big moment came for the flock, he looked more like an old English sheepdog, but, his self-imposed task complete, he smiled beatifically and belted out ‘While Shepherds Watch’ with as much gusto as anyone could have wished for.
I clocked his mother in the row behind us, tears of laughter pouring down her face as she captured every second on her phone.
Much as I loved Sofia, and being there to help her, a pang of longing for my own child shot through me so powerfully that I gasped.
‘Are you all right?’ whispered Nick.
I nodded, thankful that it wasn’t the place for a conversation, because no, I was far from all right.
The only man I had been interested in at all since Paulo, a man I knew I was falling in love with, was looking like the wrong bet, and I could hardly bear it.
Ignoring my trembling hands, I focused my attention back on the show.
The stars appeared again, behind the shepherds, and I took some photos of Sofia, who looked buoyantly happy.
The rest of the performance went more or less to plan and soon we were clapping as the children took their bows, the biggest cheers going to the Second Innkeeper, who proceeded to offer us all ten per cent off our next stay.
Astrid went to collect Sofia and India, Angela and Greg waiting for them while Nick and I took Marilise to his car.
As we walked out slowly, we were accosted by Eugenia, with her daughters in tow.
Naturally, she had managed to barge through everybody to get them out before most of the parents had even made it backstage.
She made a sort of awkward curtsey to Marilise, then turned to Nick.
‘Nikolai,’ she said throatily, drawing him into an embrace. She shot me a spiteful look. ‘What’s all this I hear about you selling Lyonscroft and leaving on a jet plane yet again?’
He glanced at me, then replied, ‘I’m not sure where you’ve heard that, Eugenia.’
‘Oh, you know that news travels fast through the cognoscenti around here.’ She turned her Medusa stare on me. ‘Did you know?’
I had to admire her. Within the space of a few words, she had tried to derail me by revealing something that I didn’t know, had identified me as someone she most definitely didn’t consider to be amongst the ‘cognoscenti’ and had positioned herself in Nick’s inner circle. What could I do but answer truthfully?
‘I was there when the estate agent came round,’ I said calmly. ‘And I can’t blame Nick for wanting to be part of LA’s in crowd as opposed to this one. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I think Marilise would like to go home.’
‘I would,’ said Marilise, bestowing a look of hauteur on Eugenia that the woman, for all her airs and graces, could only ever dream of matching.
‘Of course, Your Highness,’ she stammered, and we swept away as elegantly as we could over the icy ground.