Chapter 27
Of course it was out of the question! How could Nancy leave her son? How would he sleep if he wasn’t curled up against her all night? How would she manage without him? On the other hand, was Patricia right when she’d said Nancy wasn’t doing her son any good by being such a neurotic mother? She was beginning to think she might have a point.
They were in Doug’s studio, working on the outline of the pretty church with that lovely spire at the top of the high street while the children were at playgroup. But it was difficult to concentrate after Sam’s phone call the night before, and somehow she’d found herself telling the others about it.
‘You must go,’ insisted both Annie and Brigid in one breath as they crouched side by side, sifting through an assortment of stones and broken glass from old wine and beer bottles.
‘She’s his grandmother,’ added Annie. ‘Pass me that pebble, will you? No, not the grey one. The bluey-looking one. It will be good for them to have time together. And you need to see Sam. Molly’s mother’s husband, the first one, wanted her to move up nearer to his job in Stockport, but she didn’t want to disrupt the kids.’
Nancy didn’t like the sound of this. ‘What happened?’ she asked, carefully pressing a piece of blue glass on to the top of the church tower, where the cement was still damp.
Annie made a face. ‘Don’t ask. But suffice it to say that’s why he became the first husband. Mind you, Vietnam beats Stockport in my book, any day.’ She touched Nancy’s arm lightly, and the clock tower nearly wobbled. ‘It’s a bit odd, don’t you think, that suddenly your man wants you out there when he was being all off before. Do you think something’s happened to make him realise how much you mean to him? By the way, how about a new hairdo before you go? I’ve got a great hairdresser. Pink streaks might suit you too!’
She thinks I’ve got competition, thought Nancy. Annie reckons Sam might be having an affair and now wants to check out his options back home.
It wasn’t as though she hadn’t considered the possi- bility. If Sam did fall for someone else, she’d decided, she would just let him go. But now it seemed like it might have happened, she realised she wanted him. The old Sam, that was. The one who had loved her properly before Danny had been born.
Danny! ‘I can’t just leave him. I’m not sure I trust Patricia. Supposing she leaves the front door open and he wanders out? And what if she leaves her bottle of indigestion tablets out and he helps himself?’
Doug’s kind, firm voice cut in. ‘You know, Nancy, I couldn’t help overhearing. Would it help if I said that in former times grandparents played an extensive role in bringing up their grandchildren, and that all the generations involved benefited from this?’
He gave her a reassuring pat on the arm that felt friendly rather than a come-on. ‘If I were you, I’d listen to your friends. I’m sure they’ll keep an eye on your mother-in-law. And don’t worry about letting us down on the mural or muriel as she refers to it, although I have to say that I suspect these malapropisms might be an affectation on her part to gain attention. We’ll work extra hard, won’t we girls, and we’ll be looking forward to having you back.’
She couldn’t go! She couldn’t! Yet if she didn’t, Sam and she might really be over and then Danny wouldn’t have two parents. She and Sam had both had this disadvantage, and clearly it hadn’t done either of them any favours in life. In the end, it was that which made her decide that she needed to go out to join Sam. A child needed two parents in an ideal world, and she had a duty to do everything to make that possible.
Even so, the terrors of leaving her son tormented her for the next week. When it came to saying goodbye to Danny, Nancy felt as though her heart was being cut out with the new set of kitchen knives that Patricia had insisted on buying (‘If you don’t mind me saying, dear, yours are frightfully blunt’).
‘Mummy loves you very much, darling.’
Danny had given her a quick hug. He smelt of baked beans and earth where he’d been digging outside; something, she was ashamed to say, that she wouldn’t have allowed before he’d started playgroup. ‘Mummy, can we go to Devon like Mrs Merryfield when you get back? She’s going to make castles on the beach.’
Nancy felt another stab of guilt. She should be there, doing things with her son instead of jetting off to the other side of the world to patch things up with a man who had no idea what parenthood was really about. ‘Maybe another time, poppet.’
And then she was off, with Annie driving her to the airport because, as she said, she wouldn’t put it past Nancy to chicken out at Departures. She, Annie, would jump at the chance to go to Vietnam, if only for a sixteen-hour nap on the plane away from the kids.
It all felt very strange, thought Nancy, who couldn’t stop herself from putting her hand up to the side of her face and tentatively feeling the unfamiliar layers that Annie’s hairdresser had created. She’d said a firm no to the pink-streak idea, luckily, and found herself asking for blonde highlights instead like Gemma’s, which were probably natural and which she’d always admired.
Now, as Nancy pulled down the sunscreen mirror to check her make-up after a few tears, it was as though another person was looking back at her. One who was brave or foolish enough to leave her son and go to the other side of the world.
After saying goodbye to Annie and checking in, Nancy found a seat in Departures next to a family of five who all seemed to be laughing and joking and arguing in a good-natured way. She’d wanted to take Danny, but Sam had said it wasn’t a good idea and that besides, his jabs might not be up to date. Anyway, with his mother at home, it was an ideal opportunity for her and Sam to have some time alone as a couple. Then her flight was called. It wasn’t too late to go back, Nancy told herself as she presented her boarding pass at the gate. She could be back with Danny within a couple of hours; already she was missing the smell of his downy head and his constant chatter like the small boy in the family in front of her. But if she did that, Sam would give up on her. She knew he would. So somehow, feeling as though another person was moving her legs down the long tube of a corridor leading to the plane, she found herself taking a window seat near the emergency exit.
When the plane, an enormous thing with three flights of stairs, took off, Nancy felt as though she was going to be sick. Supposing it crashed? Who would bring up Danny? Patricia with her stuffy British mannerisms, or her own self-help-obsessed mother who was equally crazy?
Nancy eyed the air stewardesses sitting in their chairs. They looked relaxed, which was surely a good sign, even though the seat-belt sign was still on. Yet the further the plane rose in the sky, the more breathless she felt. She’d never been this far from Danny before. From the minute he had taken his first breath she had been with him, apart from his time at Puddleducks.
‘He’ll be fine,’ Gemma Merryfield had assured her when she’d explained where she was going. ‘You go and enjoy yourself. It’s important for parents to have some time together. By the way, I like your new hairdo. Those blonde streaks suit you, and the feathered layers are really soft.’
But she had said all this in a voice that sounded a bit different from her usual cheery tone, so it was obvious that even she thought Nancy was being neglectful.
What was she doing? PING!
‘May I help you?’ The pretty Singaporean stewardess in a beautiful peacock-blue silk outfit was at her side in a moment.
‘Is it possible to make a phone call?’ Nancy knew she was overreacting, but couldn’t help it. ‘I’ve just left my son for the first time and I need to check he’s all right.’
It was expensive and a bit of a fiddle, as Patricia would have said, as the stewardess showed her how to pull out the screen and dial her home number. ‘Patricia? It’s me. Yes, I’m on the plane. Yes, I know it’s costing a lot but I wanted to know if Danny’s all right. Good. Thanks. Yes, I know I’m worrying unnecessarily and I’m sure you’ll call Sam’s phone if you need us.’
After that, Nancy slept: a long deep sleep, despite the odd bout of turbulence. The stress of the previous months, coupled with the knowledge that now there really was no going back, completely knocked her out until it was time to change planes at Singapore and get on the last leg to Ho Chi Minh City, a place that a few weeks ago she hadn’t, to be honest, even been able to spell correctly.
It was, she thought, helping another mother with all her baby stuff through to Arrivals, like being someone else.
Someone who wasn’t Danny’s mum. Someone who was just Nancy.