Chapter 18
Stacey was out of breath by the time she picked Grace up after school. She’d done a mad dash to Aldi to get food for that night’s dinner with Will. She’d even splashed out on some after-dinner mints. She had no idea why, but they were cheap and in the middle aisle and she just couldn’t resist. There had also been a cheap box of Christmas decorations knocked down in price as it was now mid-December and for the first time in a very long time she actually felt inclined to decorate the flat. Now that Will was on the scene it felt as though Christmas didn’t hold the doom and gloom it normally did. She might have a fighting chance of enjoying this Christmas. As long as she kept her job, of course. She decided for this evening, however, that she would put that to the back of her mind.
She needed a quick getaway from school so that she could get back to the flat and begin cooking. However, Grace’s teacher had other ideas.
‘Miss Bentley,’ said the slightly terrifying Miss Shepherd. ‘Can I have a quick word?’
‘If it’s quick,’ said Stacey. ‘I do have to get home.’
‘Well, I’ll get straight to the point. You need to ask your daughter to stop singing her donkey song throughout the Nativity play rehearsals. It’s very disruptive. Now, I have explained this to Grace but she insists on carrying on.’
Grace looked up at her mum. ‘They won’t put it in the play,’ she said. ‘I told them I wrote it and it’s about a donkey so it fits, but they won’t put it in. So I think if I keep singing it all the time then eventually they’ll get to love it and then put it in the play.’
‘We already have many songs in the Nativity, Grace,’ said Miss Shepherd. ‘You can sing those all you like.’
‘But none of them are as good as “Donkey Love”. And I wrote it with my friend Yang. Surely you want a song in the play, written by one of your pupils? Rather than other people we’ve never ever heard of?’
Stacey looked at Miss Shepherd. She thought her daughter had a point.
‘But it wouldn’t be very fair to give you a solo, would it?’ said Miss Shepherd.
‘Toby has a solo because he always gets a solo because he’s very good at singing and it impresses all the parents. Evie has a solo because her dad is a governor and Amir has a solo because you need to show that you’re kind and fair to all races and religions. Now, I would like a solo because I wrote “Donkey Love”.’
Stacey had to smile. Grace had totally nailed Miss Shepherd. Miss Shepherd looked at Stacey pleadingly but Stacey wasn’t in the mood for saying the right thing to suck up to the teacher. She was tired of her daughter being dismissed as naughty and troublesome when actually she was spirited and super-bright and probably had ADHD.
‘We haven’t really got room for any more soloists,’ Miss Shepherd said.
‘Why don’t you let Grace sing her song at the end?’ asked Stacey. ‘Like a farewell song?’
Stacey really couldn’t think of anything worse for all the parents than being serenaded by her daughter wailing ‘Donkey Love’, but it might just make Grace’s Christmas and so she was willing to offer it up.
Stacey watched Miss Shepherd’s face fall. It was not the closing number to her magical Nativity play that she was looking for.
‘Oh, yes! That’s a brilliant idea,’ said Grace. ‘Brilliant. I’ll be like the encore. Is that what they call it?’
‘That’s right,’ said Stacey, grabbing Grace’s hand. ‘All sorted then. Now we’d better go. Things to do. Places to be. Goodbye, Miss Shepherd. See you at the Nativity.’
‘Wow, Mum,’ said Grace as they walked away. ‘You were awesome.’
For the first time in ages, Stacey felt awesome.
Not so much two hours later. Sweat was dripping off her nose as she laboured over a hot stove. She’d decided to do a roast chicken, seeing as they had company, and she and Grace never had a Sunday roast as cooking for two seemed like too much effort.
She’d forgotten how much effort it was.
Peeling potatoes and carrots and parsnips and making stuffing and gravy and trying to juggle all that in her single oven with just four gas rings on the top. This was hard work after a full day at the office. What with that and trying to make sure that Will was happy as he sat in the lounge enjoying a beer whilst Grace insisted on watching cartoons. Stacey had tried to persuade Grace to help her with dinner, but Grace had refused, saying she had important television to watch. Stacey apologised to Will, who smiled and asked if there was another beer.
Eventually Stacey put the beautifully crisp chicken on the tiny kitchen table and announced that dinner was served. Grace ran in and plonked herself on the middle chair, forcing Will into a chair that had him virtually sitting in the kitchen doorway.
‘Sorry, it’s a bit tight in here,’ said Stacey.
‘It’s really only big enough for two,’ said Grace, looking pointedly at Will.
‘It’s fine,’ said Will. ‘Cosy. This looks amazing, by the way. I never cook for myself like this.’
‘We don’t normally eat like this,’ Grace told Will. ‘It’s just because you’re here. Normally it’s beans on toast in front of Pointless .’
‘Not every night,’ said Stacey.
‘You’re right,’ said Grace. ‘Sometimes we’re late and have to watch The One Show .’
‘So,’ said Stacey, clapping her hands together. ‘Dig in. Don’t let it go cold.’
‘Great,’ said Will, picking up his fork and helping himself to a chicken leg.
‘You should ask if me or Mum want a leg first, shouldn’t he, Mum?’
‘No,’ said Stacey, ‘he’s a guest.’
‘But that’s not what you say when we’re the guests. You tell me to wait for everyone else to pick.’
Stacey sighed. ‘Why don’t you tell Will about your solo in the Nativity play?’
‘I’m singing “Donkey Love” at the Nativity,’ she told him. ‘It’s going to be epic.’
‘“Donkey Love”?’ asked Will.
‘Yes. The one that I wrote with Yang. We played it to you when you came back the other night.’
‘Really,’ said Will, raising his eyebrows at Stacey. ‘That song. Wow. Well, I very much look forward to hearing that.’
‘Mum told Miss Shepherd to let me be the farewell song at the end. Mum was amazing. Miss Shepherd really had no choice.’
‘Very impressive,’ said Will, looking admiringly at Stacey. ‘There aren’t many people who get away with telling Miss Shepherd what to do. I’ll have to take you with me next time she hauls me in over some bee in her bonnet about Isaac.’
‘You must tell Yang,’ said Grace to her mum. ‘Can you ask him to come? He should come and see our song played in front of all those people.’
‘I’m not sure he’d want to or be able to,’ replied Stacey.
‘Of course he would want to,’ said Grace.
Will was shaking his head. ‘Look,’ he said to Grace, ‘he’s a young guy, he’s got other priorities. He’ll be out with his girlfriend or the lads or something.’
‘He hasn’t got a girlfriend,’ said Grace. ‘I think he likes you, Mummy.’
Will laughed. Stacey looked shocked. ‘Did he say that?’ she asked.
‘No,’ replied Grace. ‘But I think he does and I think he would be a very good boyfriend.’
Will was still laughing. ‘I don’t really think your mum is in the market for a boyfriend, are you?’ he asked her, with a grin.
‘I guess not,’ she replied, smiling back at him.
Grace turned to Will. ‘Yang will come if Mum asks him. I know he will.’
Stacey looked at Will. He shrugged as if to say he’d tried to help but failed. Stacey knew there was no way Yang was going to watch Grace sing a song about donkeys, even if he had written it. And all that nonsense about him fancying her. That was just wishful thinking by Grace. Now all that was going to happen was that the Nativity play and her performance would be ruined by the fact that Yang wasn’t there. Christ, who would be a parent!
‘I’m going to eat this in front of Danger Mouse ,’ said Grace, picking up her plate and making her way sulkily out of the kitchen.
‘We have a guest,’ protested Stacey.
‘It’s OK,’ said Will. ‘Let her watch her programme. Any more gravy?’
‘Er, yeah,’ said Stacey, reaching round behind her to get the saucepan off the hob. She topped up the gravy jug with a heavy heart. She’d been really looking forward to a proper sit-down meal like a normal family for once. Clearly Grace didn’t have the same aspirations as she sat sulkily in front of the TV and turned Danger Mouse up to loud.
Two hours later and the evening was looking up. Stacey and Will were entwined on the sofa, halfway down a bottle of wine and watching a new drama on the TV. Grace had gone to bed and Stacey felt all warm and fuzzy. She and Will had kissed long and deep during one of the ad breaks and it felt fantastic. This is what it must feel like to be in a happy relationship, she thought. Eating together, drinking together, cuddling together, kissing together, watching the telly together. This is what most normal people of her age had, and she wanted it. She wanted more of it. It was the most contented she had felt in a long time. She looked up at the tinsel, hastily erected over the top of the mirror before Will arrived. Maybe there was something to look forward to about Christmas after all. Maybe, just maybe they might end up spending Christmas with Will and she could finally tell her mum that she had other plans for Christmas lunch. What a great Christmas that would make it.
It got to ten o’clock and she couldn’t help but yawn. It had been a hell of a day. Full day at work, shopping for dinner, picking up Grace, cooking a meal. And she still had the washing up to do. It really was time for bed. But Will looked so settled with his leg draped over the sofa arm and his arm draped round her shoulders, she didn’t want to bring an end to a lovely evening just yet. She’d already told him that he couldn’t stay over as she had a very early start and she wasn’t sure Grace was ready for overnight guests just yet. She looked up at him and leaned in for a long slow kiss. Wow – that made her feel alive for the first time in a very long time.
‘I’ve been meaning to ask you something,’ he said when their lips finally parted.
Stacey sat up. This sounded good; this sounded exciting.
‘Go ahead,’ she grinned.
‘Would you like to come to my works Christmas ball, you know, the one I mentioned that’s at the Tower of London? Because, well, I was going to go with my mate Jacko, but he’s taking his new girlfriend so would you come? I don’t want to be a Billy No-mates. The thing is, it’s a really posh do so everyone dresses up. I’ll be in a tuxedo, so you need a special dress …’ He tailed off as he saw a tear drop down her cheek. ‘Why are you crying?’
‘You had me at Christmas ball,’ she said. ‘Oh, and tuxedo. You must look really hot in a tuxedo.’
‘Well, you know,’ he said. ‘I do scrub up all right. So you’ll come?’
‘Try and stop me,’ said Stacey. She leaned forward to hug him. ‘Thank you,’ she said. ‘You’ve just made my Christmas.’
‘It’s just a party,’ replied Will.
‘To you, maybe. But I’ve not been out to a party in the last hundred years. I feel like I’m Cinderella who has actually got invited to the ball.’
‘OK,’ said Will. ‘As I said, the women really go for it dress-wise … have you got anything?’
‘Tell me exactly,’ she asked. ‘What type of thing? I don’t want to get it wrong.’
‘Well,’ said Will. ‘I don’t know … like what you might see on the red carpet. That type.’
Stacey nodded. ‘I haven’t got anything like that, but I might just know a fairy godmother who could help me out in that department.’
‘Great,’ said Will. ‘And you can always come back to mine afterwards?’ he said, raising his eyebrows.
‘Oh, blimey,’ said Stacey, slapping her forehead. ‘I need a babysitter. When is it?’
‘Next Wednesday,’ replied Will.
‘Christ, that doesn’t give me much time.’
‘What about Yang?’ asked Will.
‘Yang?’ said Stacey. ‘He only did it last time as a favour.’
‘Won’t he do it again? I’m sure if you asked him nicely? I mean, he really likes you, according to Grace,’ he said with a smile on his face.
‘Shut up,’ she said, punching him on the arm. ‘She’s just being stupid. Anyway, I can’t ask him. Honestly. It’s not fair. I’ll just have to work something out. Pray for a Christmas miracle.’