Chapter 24
By the end of the following week, Gemma was exhausted. She loved Puddleducks – oh how she loved it – but unless you were in a classroom from 7.30 a.m. to gone 7 p.m. on some nights, it was impossible to imagine what it was like.
Sometimes she felt like a mini United Nations (‘It’s nice to share, Kyle. Why don’t you swap your spade for Lucy’s sand bucket?’). At other times, it was like being on a junior version of University Challenge , answering a constant barrage of on-the-spot crazy and not-so-crazy questions from the children.
Take Harry, who still sucked a dummy at the age of three and wanted to know how ‘they’ got glass in windowpanes. Maybe she should get someone in from the local glaziers to talk about that?
Then, before she’d had a chance to reply, he’d asked if the window hurt when the glass got put in and that was why it was in pain.
So Gemma had written both ‘pain’ and ‘pane’ on the whiteboard and explained the difference. Harry might be glued to his dummy but he was a strong reader, and this was just the thing to help.
Then Kyle had clobbered his spade rival and although no one was hurt, it had led to tears. ‘Naughty,’ reproved Clemmie in such an adult voice that, for a moment, she’d thought it was the child’s mother speaking.
‘My mum’s naughty too,’ Clemmie added.
Gemma wasn’t sure she wanted to hear this. Some of the children came out with howlers about their parents that could never be repeated.
Clemmie, however, whose vocal skills were far above the average age, was clearly bent on telling her. ‘She’s always on the computer when I’m in bed. I can hear her on the keyboard.’
Was that all? Thank goodness for that.
Then one of the mothers had flown into the playgroup after the morning session, in floods of tears. ‘I’ve locked Dillon in the car by mistake!’ she’d yelled. ‘I put him in and then came back to get something but I must have left my keys inside and it locks automatically.’
Easily done, Gemma told her, Jean rushed off to ring the AA and Gemma went out to try and pacify Dillon, who had started at the same time as Danny and Lily.
‘Want out,’ he had said plaintively from his toddler seat in the back.
How did you tell a child that he needed to wait until help arrived? ‘I know!’ Gemma clapped her hands. ‘We’ll sing a Puddleducks song.’ So she did, while Dillon mouthed the words back through the window. Lily, who was staying on for the afternoon session, solemnly stood next to her.
‘OK, Dillon, OK,’ Lily had said in a soothing tone and sure enough, when the AA man arrived in record time and released the poor child, she was the first to give him a big hug. Children were so affectionate to each other sometimes, thought Gemma. It always brought a lump to her throat when she watched them holding hands in a queue or very gently stroking their faces, like Lily was doing now to Dillon.
‘You need a break,’ commented Kitty when Gemma filled her in on all this during one of their catch-up mobile chats. ‘Come up to town for the weekend.’
‘Town’ in Kitty language meant London. She’d heard Joe use the same expression. It was tempting. ‘Come on,’ urged Kitty. ‘I don’t understand why you won’t let your hair down every now and then.’
‘Yes you do.’
‘All right. But I still think you should put the past behind you now. When’s your next appointment, by the way?’
‘After half-term.’ ‘Which is when?’
Sometimes Gemma forgot that Kitty’s world – now made up of recording sessions and trips to New York – was so different from hers.
‘Third week in October but I’ve got Parents’ Evening before then and mid-term reports, and you wouldn’t believe the paperwork …’
‘Right. Then this Saturday it is. We’ll go clubbing and you can meet some of my friends.’
Gemma hesitated. Clubbing really wasn’t her thing. ‘That would be great. Thanks.’
Gemma couldn’t wait to get home. She’d tried. She’d really tried to be interested in what this tall, aquiline-nosed actor friend of Kitty’s was saying about the new ad he’d just been asked to do for skincare. He was clearly expecting a compliment but even if she could have forced one out, he wouldn’t have heard her anyway. The noise was too loud! She’d also drunk more than usual, partly because it gave her something to do and partly because the aquiline-nosed actor kept topping her up without asking.
‘Not my type, I’m afraid,’ she confided to Kitty as they both headed for the Ladies about elevenish, which was way past her usual bedtime.
Kitty eyed her in the mirror. ‘Know your trouble? You’re still holding a candle for that man. It’s about time you woke up and remembered that he’s gone.’ She clicked her fingers. ‘Vanished. Poomf! Maybe when you’ve done the necessary, you’ll be able to convince yourself of that.’ She patted Gemma’s shoulder kindly. ‘Now go on. I can see you’d really rather go home. No, it’s all right – honestly. Give me a ring next week.’
The aquiline-nosed young man got her a taxi to Marylebone and even saw her on to the train before kissing her goodbye on both cheeks, very close to her mouth. As she watched him push his way back through the barrier, Gemma almost wished she could feel something for this well-mannered actor who would undoubtedly meet with her parents’ approval. ‘Excuse me?’ An incredibly tall, smooth-shaven, good-looking man with piercing blue eyes, who looked as though he was the rugby-playing type, leaped on the train just as the whistle was blowing. ‘Do you know if this is the right train for Corrytown?’
Gemma nodded, taking in the army kitbag. From his clean-shaven face and short haircut, not to mention the smartly pressed beige trousers and navy jacket, he was possibly in the services like her younger brother Tom. Every time she rang home, the phone would be answered by her mother whose voice would immediately soften in relief when she knew it was Gemma and not someone bringing bad news. Yet at the same time, they were all so proud of him.
‘Have you come far?’ She hadn’t meant to engage in conversation but the wine had loosened her up. Besides, you never knew with the army; people often knew each other. By some coincidence, Tom was serving with a cousin of one of the parents at Puddleducks. Maybe this gorgeous-looking man with the kitbag might have come across her brother too.
‘The Middle East and then a few weeks of training down in the West Country.’ He gave her a broad smile that lit up his eyes, unlike Joe Balls’s smiles, which were few and far between and never got any further than the edge of his mouth. ‘I’m in the services.’
Just as she’d thought! ‘The paratroopers?’
His broad face nodded. ‘You have someone there?’ No. Tom was in another division and it turned out that the stranger on the train didn’t know him, but did know several of the places that her brother had been to. So they spent a very pleasant hour discussing all kinds of things, from world security to the funny things that children say. By then she’d already told him what she did, taking care not to mention any names or divulge parental antics. You never knew who was on the train!
‘I’m on leave until January so I thought I’d spend it with family, especially as my sister’s just had a baby.’ He patted the large carrier bag from Hamleys that was sitting next to his kitbag. ‘My mother’s on cloud nine at being a granny. She’s already been at my sister’s for a week but can’t stay away!’
Baby? Mother away for a week? No. It would be too much of a coincidence if this was Joyce’s son. She’d look awfully silly if she asked him, and he wasn’t. ‘Looks like we’re here!’ He had seen the sign before her. ‘Please. Let me help you.’
Gently he took her bag even though it was light compared with his, which he had hoisted on his back before cupping her elbow and helping her off the train. The touch of his hand made her skin tingle, as though she had grazed her funny bone.
‘Thank you.’
‘Not at all. May I walk you back? I don’t like to see a lady going home on her own.’
No, really, she was about to say. It was very kind but she didn’t want to put him out. Besides, she was always telling the children not to talk to strangers. So why on earth was she now telling him where she lived? Too late, she wished she hadn’t had those three glasses of wine at the club. This really wasn’t like her; not like her at all!
‘Hazel Road?’ He grinned. ‘It’s where I’m going too. My mother lives at number 43.’
So she was right! ‘I rent a room at the top of your mother’s house.’
His face beamed in recognition. ‘Then you must be Jane … Jean …’
‘Gemma,’ she corrected him.
‘I know we’ve never met but I feel as though we have. My mother’s always talking about you.’ He put out his hand. ‘I’m Barry.’
I know, she almost said. Your mother’s always talking about you too, although she didn’t say you looked more like a Daniel Craig than a Barry.
‘Tell you what,’ he continued, ‘as we’re going in the same direction, let’s get a taxi. I insist. My treat.’ Taxis were a luxury she could ill afford on a teacher’s salary. How nice to be treated and looked after for a change! ‘Evening, Gemma!’
Her heart plummeted as she spotted Joe Balls at the head of the queue, still with the one crutch he’d been using since being taken to hospital after passing out at the Parents’ Social. Blast! Judging from the disappointed look on Barry’s face, her new companion obviously thought that Joe was a boyfriend. Somehow she felt the urgent need to put him straight.
‘Barry, this is Joe Balls, my boss at school.’ She accentuated the last few words so the relationship was quite clear. ‘He also rents a room from your mother during the week.’
Joe gave a sharp, short nod which could hardly be described as friendly. Typical!
Barry nodded at the crutch in an almost reverent way. ‘Been in the wars, have you?’
Joe looked uncomfortable. ‘Just a fall.’ He shot a look at Gemma that seemed to beg her not to tell him what had really happened.
She almost felt sorry for him, but not quite. ‘I hope your wife is looking after you,’ she couldn’t help saying.
He frowned and to her surprise, she saw a look of hurt flitting across his face. ‘Ed is my ex-wife actually. We’ve been divorced for a couple of years now but we still keep up contact.’
Clearly! ‘Been to see her, have you?’ She couldn’t help slipping that one in.
‘No. I was actually staying at my flat in London this weekend.’
‘Want to share a taxi?’ Barry was saying. ‘Makes sense, doesn’t it, if we’re all going to the same place? Here’s one now.’ He stepped ahead of them smartly and held out the door. ‘After you, Gemma.’
She took her seat, feeling a tingle running through her. Barry wasn’t just devastatingly good-looking. He had excellent manners, too, which fitted in with the nice things his mother was always saying about him. Things finally seemed to be looking up!