Summer Daydreams (24 page)
I want Olly to take me in his arms and hold me and, after a moment’s hesitation, he does just that. I let myself melt into his embrace. Perhaps that’s why things got a little too up close and personal with Tod; all week I’ve needed a hug, just someone to hold me.
‘Everything OK?’ I ask tentatively.
‘Sure,’ Olly says. ‘Why shouldn’t it be?’
I shrug. Looks like the crisis that was building may well have been averted. Perhaps my absence has made Olly’s heart grow fonder. ‘Has Petal missed me?’
‘Like crazy.’
‘Is Jenny looking after her?’
‘Constance is on duty.’ He fails to meet my eyes. ‘Jen had something else on.’ Olly picks up a box and busies himself.
‘Did it work out all right with Jen looking after Petal?’
‘Yeah,’ he says. ‘It was fine.’
But I know that there’s something he’s not saying. ‘Sure?’
‘Positive. She’s a great girl.’ Then, ‘Come on, let’s get all this loaded and get you home again.’
Home, I think with an internal sigh. Where I belong. With my husband and my daughter. And my dog. And my handbags.
Olly and I didn’t get back until late on Sunday night. It was such a rush to get everything off the stand again and I was so exhausted by the time we’d finished that there was no scintillating conversation between us on the way home. To be honest, we barely grunted at each other as we lobbed all the stuff in the van and shot off down the motorway, glad to be out of London. At home, we just collapsed into bed – but not before I’d been to look at my beautiful child who was fast asleep in Constance’s care.
On the Monday after my return, I decide to keep the shop shut. The good folks of Hitchin can surely wait until tomorrow for their Nell McNamara handbag requirements to be filled. I’m trying to take Tod’s advice and recharge my batteries – even if it’s only for one day.
Olly and I walk Petal to her pre-school session in the morning. I have a moment of panic when I realise that Olly knows all the mums. He fits in seamlessly with them and I don’t. Where has my ability to make kiddie small talk gone? Do I really think of nothing else but handbags now? Has work become my whole focus? I feel myself standing on the outside, not knowing any of them, feeling self-conscious that I’m overdressed in a brightly printed dirndl skirt and ballet pumps and not the ubiquitous jeans and fleece that everyone else is sporting. Although they chat and call out to Olly, they look at me suspiciously, as if a woman going places is not to be trusted. It leaves me feeling unsettled. Did the school mums like me better when I was just working in the chippy? Do they feel threatened by my new career? I don’t know. I feel that I don’t fit in with the whole fashion crowd either – I’m not trendy and chic like they are – and yet I don’t know my place here any more. So where exactly does that leave me? I should make more effort to do things at Petal’s school, join committees and the like. But when would I find the time?
Olly slips his hand in mine and, Petal safely deposited for the next few hours, we wander into the town centre. Our plan is to do nothing but spend the morning drinking coffee together and catching up with the real world in the dog-eared newspapers provided by the shop. We have a proper talk about the show now that we’re both more awake and receptive. For once, he seems genuinely enthusiastic. But then, I confess that I just tell him about the good bits and not how I spent much of the week with Tod, which he would definitely not view as a good bit.
It’s a brilliant, sunny day so later, when we pick up Petal, we take her straight to Bancroft Gardens and we all run around the park like loons, swooping and chasing each other with aeroplane arms until we’re sick with laughter. Then Petal plays on the see-saw with Olly and they run round and round the bandstand long after my energy has been exhausted. This is our favourite park to come to and it’s been here since Olly and I were both kids. Petal loves it too. It has a bowling green, tennis courts, fantastic flower beds stuffed full of those plants that councils like so much – begonias, lobelia, chrysanthemums – all in gloriously clashing colours. I think it’s nice that, after all these years, it still retains a quaint, old-fashioned air. There’s always talk of redeveloping it, upgrading the facilities. But who knows if they ever will.
Probably the only addition to the park since I was a girl is a bench full of drunks who sit here day in, day out, and put the world to rights with their cans of Stella. We find a place on the grass away from them and eat our supermarket-made sandwiches while we listen to Petal’s relentlessly cheerful stream of chatter. The sun beats down on me and I feel my heart ease. I’ve missed them both so much. It’s good to be back and be normal again.
‘I’m looking forward to staying at home tonight with you,’ Olly says, arm slung round my shoulder. ‘Quality time with my wifey.’
‘Oh,’ I say. ‘I thought I’d pop in and see everyone from the chippy later. I wanted to see Jen and thank her for helping us out.’
‘She’s cool,’ Olly says somewhat shiftily. ‘I thanked her for us.’
I have to keep on the right side of Jen as, in the future, there’ll be more and more of these shows to go to. The next one coming up is Paris Fashion Week, which I’ve arranged to go to with Tod, and I’ll be begging for her help again then. ‘I can go in late-afternoon instead. Catch them after the lunchtime rush. I haven’t seen Phil or Constance properly for ages.’ Apart from a two-minute handover last night on Constance’s part. ‘Do you mind?’
‘No. It’ll do you good to see them again.’
But his arm drops from my shoulders nevertheless.
At four o’clock, Olly takes Petal home and I swing into the arcade that houses Live and Let Fry. I throw open the door and, for a brief moment, have a rush of sensation that says
‘I’ve come home.’
‘Nell,’ Constance cries out. ‘Our Nell’s here!’ She completely abandons the customer who she was serving with his late lunch and comes to hug the life out of me. I don’t remind her that she did the same thing to me just last night.
Phil also wipes his hands on his apron, peels it off and comes to wrap his arms round me. Only Jenny hangs back.
‘Hey,’ I say. ‘I’ve missed you all.’ I feel as guilty as hell that I’ve neglected these guys recently in my quest for fame and fortune. ‘It’s been weeks since I’ve seen you.’
‘We’re still here, Nell,’ Phil says with a shrug. ‘Nothing much changes.’
‘Business good?’
‘Booming,’ he confirms. My handiwork still looks great, even though I say it myself.
‘We’ve got someone to replace you,’ Constance continues.
‘Chloe. She’s a darling. All the customers adore her.’
‘Oh. Great.’ But, for some reason, I feel piqued about that.
Chloe, eh? I’ve only been gone five minutes and, so soon, someone else has taken my place. I get the feeling that I’m disconnecting with my old life once more. I want to tell them all about my work, work that they helped me start, a career that without them cajoling me, I never would have had the courage to contemplate, but I feel that they wouldn’t understand, that they wouldn’t be all that interested. And who could blame them? But I’ve barely got my toe in the fashion world, so I’ve no one I can talk to there. Once again, it makes me wonder exactly where I do belong these days.
‘We’ve heard from Jen that you’ve been here, there and everywhere. Haven’t we, Jen?’ Constance shoots her a look.
‘Yeah.’ Finally, Jen steps forward and hugs me. But there’s a tightness about her body, a reluctance to touch me that I haven’t felt before.
‘You’re my angel,’ I tell her earnestly. Then to Phil and Constance, ‘I honestly don’t know what I’d have done without this woman.’
A slightly dark look passes between Phil and Constance. Fleeting, ever so fleeting, but I catch it anyway.
‘Sit down. Sit down.’ Phil clears one of the tables and we all slide into chairs.
I notice that Phil and Constance sit together and there’s a growing closeness between them that’s more than their usual familiar banter. I smile to myself. It would be nice to see them properly together as a couple. They’ve both been alone for too long. Perhaps it’s nice that they’re taking their time to edge closer together rather than rushing headlong into something that could spoil the relationship they’ve built up over many years. You need to be careful not to upset the status quo. Yeah. Look who’s talking.
‘Jen, love. Get that kettle on,’ Phil says. ‘Will you have some chips, Nell? Of course you will.’
‘As if I’m going to refuse! I’ve been pining for your fries.’ But I’m ashamed to say that in reality, I’ve hardly given my old mates a second thought in recent weeks. I have no excuse other than I’ve been ridiculously busy and that work occupies my every waking moment.
‘Jen! Bring some chips too.’
‘She’s been brilliant,’ I tell them both. ‘Really. Petal adores her. I wouldn’t be able to go away half as much if it wasn’t for Jen helping out.’ Suddenly, I feel as if I’m defending her, defending myself. Their faces are impassive. ‘What?’ I ask. ‘What do you know that I don’t?’
‘Nothing,’ Constance says.
Phil pats her leg and slides out of his seat. ‘I’ll just go and see how Jen’s doing.’
That leaves me and Constance alone.
‘Well?’
‘It’s nothing, love,’ my friend says. ‘Nothing at all. Nothing to worry about.’
‘Now I am worried,’ I tell her.
Constance’s hand covers mine, which is always a bad sign. ‘Just be careful,’ she says.
‘About what?’
‘It’s all very well running round the world with your new business but don’t forget about your home, love.’
I bristle. ‘I don’t.’
Constance looks embarrassed.
‘Has someone been saying something?’ I ask. ‘Has Olly complained?’
‘No, no,’ she assures me. ‘It’s just a silly old woman and her fears.’ She pauses, clearly trying to choose her words carefully.
‘Men like to be at the top of the list though, Nell. Not near the bottom.’
‘All this is for Olly. And Petal.’
‘
I
know that.
You
know that. But does everyone else?’
‘Who?’
‘Sometimes people are jealous of success, Nell,’ she tells me.
‘Don’t take your eye off the ball, love, or someone might come in and steal it away from you.’
Phil comes back with a big plate of chips piled high, and Constance falls silent. Jen follows with a tray of cups and a big pot of tea.
Now I’m wishing that I hadn’t called in at all. Clearly something isn’t right and I’m the only one who’s completely oblivious to it.
Jenny starts to pour out the tea. ‘I’ll be mum.’
The penny drops. Maybe that’s what Jenny thinks she’s going to be doing at my house! Maybe she thinks she’s going to take over as mum there.
She sploshes the tea into the cups. ‘Help yourself, Nell,’ she says.
I wonder if she’s been doing that too.
Oh, God. I feel sick. Have I missed any signs? Olly moans that I talk about Tod a lot, but he never says anything about Jen. I didn’t even think he liked her all that much.
What to do? Perhaps I should confront her, confront Olly? But what would I say? I only have Constance’s suspicions to go on.
Then a thought pulls me up short. I can’t afford to upset Jenny. I can’t afford to rock the boat. I need her to look after Petal while I’m away. My daughter loves her. That worries me even more. Jenny’s the one who spends more time with her than me at the moment. But I’ve got Paris Fashion Week coming up. That’s mega-important. I can’t
not
go and yet it’s too short notice to find someone else to look after Petal.
I grit my teeth. Jen had better watch it though. I’ll be keeping a close eye on her from now on. I know that sacrifices have to be made for my career. But I don’t intend my marriage to be one of them.
Petal is puking up again. No one told me when I signed up for motherhood that part of the deal was regular and inappropriately timed bouts of vomiting. When I decided that I’d like to have a child, I really had no idea that they could produce that much sick. Now, after four years of practice, that I can deal with. What’s more worrying is that Petal is also covered in livid red spots. She’s not had those before.