A Family Holiday (15 page)

Ted shook his head and got back to clearing up. Ruth went to check on the others. She met them at the top of the stairs and apart from Millie running around naked and the dog shaking himself dry and, in so doing, spraying everyone else, it all seemed in order. George looked at her before glancing at the bathroom door. Ruth followed his gaze and for a moment they all listened to the sound of running water coming from behind the door.

She rushed to open the door and splashed into the room. She hastily turned off the taps and surveyed the flooded room.

‘You children are totally out of control. I won’t tolerate behaviour like this!’

‘But we’ve lost our parents,’ said Eleanor her arms straight down by her sides and her fists tightly clenched.

‘That’s irrelevant. You will not behave like this! I am in charge!’ As Ruth shouted there was a scary quivering tone in her voice that matched the almost imperceptible shaking that had taken over her whole body. Millie clutched Eleanor’s leg, her eyes widening like a cartoon version of herself and she stared up at Ruth.

‘Hi Honey, I’m home!’ called Charlie gaily from downstairs. The next noise was a thundering of feet on the stairs, both human and animal, as they all rushed to her. Eleanor started to cry and Millie joined in. Ruth came stomping down the stairs and past the hugging bundle of people.

‘I suppose you put them up to all this?’

‘Ruth, they’re distressed. What’s happened?’ said Charlie, trying hard not to shout as her brain wiped the ‘Kipper List’ clear, leaving Ruth with a starring role.

‘You won’t put me off, you know,’ she said, reaching for the door. ‘Oh, and you might want to get a plumber in. They’ve flooded the bathroom,’ she said, with a brief head-tilt and she left.

‘Sorry,’ said the children in unison, followed by a belated effort from a sniffing Millie, ‘bye bye stupid man.’

The tiled floor in the bathroom turned out to be a blessing and after Charlie and Ted had done a team effort with towels and put the extractor fan on full blast it was drying out nicely. George, Eleanor and Millie were settled and it was time for a debrief with Ted.

‘I went to see Granddad Roger. He seems okay – a bit quiet, but he’s grieving just like you guys. He said it was okay if I wanted to take you all away on holiday for a bit.’

‘That’s good. So, do you want to know what we did to Ruth?’

‘I said, don’t give her an easy time,’ said Charlie. ‘What exactly did you do?’

Ted thought for a moment and started to reel off a list, counting on his fingers as he went, ‘Milk and flour pies on the kitchen floor, moisturised the dog, rang China on her phone and sent a silly text to everyone on her contacts list and flooded the bathroom. Oh and George has put slime in her handbag, but she most probably won’t find that until she looks for her keys,’ he smiled.

‘Ted, mate, that was a bit over the top.’ Charlie almost felt guilty.

‘Be thankful that she didn’t need the loo whilst she was here. George had set up the web cam again.’

‘Ted, that would have been a step too far,’ said Charlie, giving a little shiver at the memory of her own five minutes of YouTube fame thanks to the same prank.

‘But it’s all for a good cause. Didn’t you say Camille would ask you how it went?’

‘She probably will, I guess. I don’t know. It depends on whether Ruth gets to her first.’

‘Well, if Camille does ask you, we have some great video footage to show her…’ Ted handed Charlie his phone. She pressed play and heard Ruth shouting at the children. Millie stood naked clutching Eleanor’s leg and they all looked suitably terrified. ‘I think that should do it, don’t you?’

Charlie couldn’t tell anyone about the Antigua tickets because they were bound to tell her what every molecule of her being was screaming, which was that to take the children that far away was tantamount to kidnap. She knew it wasn’t a viable option, but options were something she was fast running out of.

Ruth and Camille were conducting their now-regular assessment sessions at the Cobley house. After Millie had been so upset last time it was agreed that Charlie was allowed to stay in the room if she promised not to interact. Ruth brought some virtually luminous sweets and a long-haired toy cat that looked highly flammable and displayed an expression you’d expect to see if someone had dropped a fully laden skip on its tail. It was a blatant act of bribery that worked perfectly on Millie. Millie climbed up to sit next to Ruth and showed Ruth her Pooh Bear. When Ruth went to tentatively take the much-loved, manky toy Millie snatched it away, but for her to even present it for inspection was a positive signal on Millie’s part and the gesture sent a physical stab of pain through Charlie.

The only mention of the baby-sitting came from Camille. ‘Did everything go all right the other night?’ she asked. Charlie stared at Ruth and Ruth stared back.

‘Yes, fine. It was a breeze,’ said Ruth, as Camille made notes.

‘Millie, did you have fun with Auntie Ruth?’ asked Charlie.

‘I am in charge!’ shouted Millie at Ruth. Ruth laughed awkwardly and handed Millie another sweet, which she snatched. Camille continued to write as Charlie and Ruth exchanged a series of increasingly menacing nods and twitches until Millie stole their attention with a little role-play between the cat and Pooh Bear.

‘I am in charge!’ she shouted, before Ruth distracted her with another sweet. Charlie slumped back into the chair in resignation.

The following thirty minutes were a slow form of torture for Charlie as Camille asked mundane question after mundane question and Ruth tried to answer them at lightning speed whilst maintaining minimal interaction with Millie. She’d be good at commentating on the horse racing, thought Charlie.

When they eventually came to leave, Charlie said her good-byes to Camille and asked Ruth for a couple of minutes of her time.

‘I hope this won’t take long,’ said Ruth, her eyes darting after a hyperactive Millie, who was running about like an errant firework, most likely thanks to the E-number overdose from the sweets Ruth had fed her.

‘No, it won’t. I just wanted to say sorry.’ Charlie took a deep breath and tried very hard to look conciliatory, but it was extremely difficult. ‘I’m sorry if we got off to a bad start. I’d like us to get on for the sake of the children. I want this to be a long-term arrangement – me looking after the children with you as guardian,’ Charlie offered her hand to shake, she wasn’t sure what else to do and Ruth definitely wasn’t a high-five kind of gal.

‘I bet you do. For someone with a criminal record and precious little experience you have a cosy little set-up here, don’t you? Free lodging in a much-sought-after London postcode, a car and free rein on what you spend as long as you claim it’s for the benefit of the children. I don’t doubt that you’d like it to be a long-term arrangement, however, I suggest you swiftly find alternative employment. In fact, I’m surprised you haven’t already done so.’

Charlie decided to give Ruth one last chance, ‘It’s not about what I want, it’s about what the children need.’

‘So we are clear – I don’t trust you. I don’t think you are qualified for this job, heaven only knows why Helen employed you. She always did favour the penurious.’ Ruth, for once, looked awkward at her own word choice and hastily continued, ‘I am making it my mission to get you out of this house and away from these children. It’s the last thing I can do for my sister.’ The stony, emotionless look had returned to her face and she reached to open the door, but something made her freeze in mid-motion.

Charlie leaned over Ruth’s shoulder and hissed in her ear, ‘Okay, let’s play it your way. In which case I have video footage of you shouting at the children and terrifying them when you baby-sat. That’s just the beginning, Ruth.’ Ruth looked suitably shocked, so Charlie opened the door for her and she walked out in silence. As Charlie slammed the door behind her she knew the battle lines were drawn and now she needed to get ready to fight.

Felix was sat at his computer, the ceiling fan whirring overhead as he reread the email from Ruth. She wanted him to confirm he was handing over all decisions to her and formally relinquishing his role as joint guardian. This was his get-out clause, the opportunity he thought he had been hoping for. He could walk away, learn to forget and carry on with his own life. But life was never quite that simple. He shook his head at the screen. He knew very well that Ruth’s first decision would be giving Charlie her notice. At least it did sound as if Ruth was going to attempt to care for the children herself, that was a definite breakthrough, even though she had worded it as ‘keeping a closer eye on day-to-day function’. He believed Ruth’s intentions were good, but it was sometimes difficult to feel that when you were facing her matter-of-fact tone and brusque manner.

His mind drifted back to Charlie and the children. It surprised him that the thought of them made him smile. Ted had changed so much from the young boy he’d made Lego creations with when he’d last seen him. Eleanor was like the nicest slice of Helen: gentle, calm and caring, but she appeared to lack the drive that Helen had shown, perhaps this would come later? It was scary how much George reminded him of himself, but George had a more confident air to him than Felix had at that age. Millie baffled him a little and he chuckled to himself as he thought how like Charlie she was: striking, stubborn and ever-so-slightly bonkers.

His thoughts changed to the backdrop of their lives and its stark contrast to his own. He loved where he was living now, the climate was perfect for him, the people welcoming, it was relaxed and happy and the pressures of life were nothing that couldn’t be solved over a cold beer. He thought of London – cold, miserable and grey with its unsmiling busy people. No, he definitely couldn’t go back there, but the question was, could he write the email that Ruth wanted him to and effectively sever all ties with what was left of his family?

Fleur searched her father’s office for the key to his London bolthole. It was only a studio apartment, which was London-speak for one room barely bigger than a cupboard with a sink and sofa-bed, but it meant he didn’t have to commute every day and, having bought it a few years ago he was very proud of calling out the price of similar properties when he saw them in the
Sunday Times
. And as he didn’t use it at weekends it was just the place to escape to with Duggan.

Fleur sat back in the oversized office chair. He usually kept the spare key in his office drawer, but it wasn’t there now. She saw his suit jacket hanging up; it wasn’t like her father not to have put it away, but it was worth a quick rummage, she thought. She checked his pockets and pulled out some small change, along with the key she was looking for and a couple of receipts. She put the key in her pocket and had a quick glance at the receipts. One was for a meatball sandwich, yuk, and another for something altogether more worrying; a receipt for a night in a London hotel. Fleur’s buoyant mood was deflated quicker than a skewered lilo.

Fleur was like a cartoon rabbit as she bounced into the Cobley house jabbering something about all men being untrustworthy bastards. After what seemed like a yard and a half of listening to her wittering but actually saying very little, Charlie finally saw an opportunity to speak as Fleur paused to recall something specific.

‘The Cobleys paid for a holiday before they died. The tickets arrived a couple of days ago. It’s four weeks in Antigua during the school holidays. I’m thinking of taking the children because I think I’m about to be cut out of their lives forever and I don’t know what else to do.’ Charlie was shocked by the sound of her own voice cracking. She didn’t cry, she never cried. Fleur flung her arms around Charlie and hugged her tightly. Charlie knew what was coming next and braced herself for the lecture on not being such an idiot and let’s look for a practical solution. But it didn’t come.

‘Just don’t get caught or they’ll lock you up and, let me tell you, it is no walk in the park living in a tiny grey cell,’ said Fleur, with an expression of someone who was speaking from bitter experience. The effect was somewhat lessened by the fact that Fleur’s experience was limited to the couple of hours she’d spent following the debacle of stabbing Rob’s tyres.

‘It’s a bad idea, though, isn’t it?’ asked Charlie, biting a thumbnail.

‘Let’s break it down. Four weeks in sunny Antigua, definitely a good idea. Time with the children would be fabulous especially if
…
you know, the worst happens. A chance to forget about reality and have fun together, lovely. But, and it’s quite a big but,’ she emphasised, with a wise nod of her head, and Charlie resisted a smirk, ‘if you’re about to be sacked then it’s a bit like kidnap and that could get you on every news channel across the globe.’

‘Oh God! Don’t say that.’

‘And don’t you need permission to take them abroad without their parents?’

Charlie nodded and handed her a scruffy piece of folded paper. Fleur opened it and read it. ‘This is in Toby’s writing and signed by both of them. How?’

‘It’s the one they did for skiing last year. They booked late and we couldn’t all get on the same flight, so the children and I flew out earlier the same day. It had the holiday destination at the very top of the page so I’ve trimmed that off and added Antigua and the flight number. The dates were in numbers so I’ve gone over them with the new dates in words,’ said Charlie, leaning over her shoulder and pointing out the alterations.

‘Oh, that is very good recycling. You wouldn’t notice unless you studied it very closely. Okay, that’s one hurdle sorted. Let’s think who would shout ‘kidnap’? Who would go to the police? Obviously Ruth would
…
’

‘Or possibly Camille?’

‘You need to work out what will keep both of them silent for four weeks.’

‘I think I may have enough on Ruth to keep her quiet. If it wasn’t for the guardian assessments being held here Camille wouldn’t need to visit more than once every six weeks.’

‘There you go! Tell Camille to meet somewhere else and we have a plan.’ Fleur hugged Charlie again and she looked at Charlie’s sad face. ‘You do know when you come back you probably won’t see the children again?’ Charlie nodded and dug her fingernails into her palms in an attempt to keep the tears at bay.

Ruth finished watching the video on the laptop, her expression pure distaste as she looked from Ted to Charlie.

‘Is this some crude blackmail attempt?’

‘Blackmail is a criminal offence,’ said Charlie. ‘So, no, it’s definitely not that.’

Ruth’s eyebrows twitched. ‘Out with it.’

‘I want to look after these children and you want to be their guardian. If Camille sees this, it’s game-over for you. It’s that simple.’

‘In exchange for deleting this, you want what? A job for life?’ said Ruth with a half-snort. ‘Because you can do what you like, but I’m not agreeing to that. In fact I’m interviewing another Norland Nanny next week.’ Charlie mentally lined up her wet kippers.

Ted leaned forward. ‘Charlie stays in exchange for us not putting this video all over YouTube and making you Britain’s most wanted…’ He sounded very adult, his voice somehow deeper than usual. Ruth’s scowl looked a little less derogatory and she seemed to be thinking things through.

‘I understand this is hard for you as children but I have to make, what I feel is, the right decision for your future and that is a professionally qualified nanny. So do your worst.’ Ruth inched forward, as if to stand, and Charlie raised a hand to stop her. This was it – her very last chance.

‘Fine, but I’m guessing it’ll take a few weeks to line up another new nanny.’ Charlie paused and took a deep breath. ‘I want to take the children away for a holiday and have a proper handover with the new nanny, no sudden replacements. That’s all I’m asking. I want to get them away from all of this. Give them a chance to unwind and relax. In exchange, I will support you in becoming their guardian. It’s not blackmail, just an arrangement – okay?’

‘You can dress it up however you like, but it’s still blackmail.’

‘Yeah, I guess it is and YouTube is one click away,’ said Ted, now starting to sound quite menacing.

‘I don’t want any trouble. I want to have some time with the children, well, four weeks, to be precise,’ said Charlie, the real truth unexpectedly seeping out.

There was a long pause as Ruth studied them both. ‘I’ll think about it,’ she said, and that was the best Charlie was going to get from her for the time being.

Charlie decided to tackle Camille next. It was a short phone call as Camille sounded harassed, but she seemed to like the idea of the children having a holiday and was immediately more receptive having been told that Ruth and Roger had already agreed.

‘Where are you going?’ asked Camille.

Charlie was slightly wrong-footed before a suitably vague response popped into her head. ‘I was thinking of somewhere with a nice beach.’ It wasn’t a complete lie. There definitely would be a nice beach in Antigua. Three hundred and sixty-five of them, to be precise.

From a practical perspective Camille agreed to find somewhere else to continue the meetings with Ruth. Charlie had to end the call abruptly as Millie started to use the saucepan lids as musical instruments and it was impossible to continue. She was not going to miss these wet-play days at all.

When Jonathan’s phone went to voicemail Charlie had all of three seconds whilst his message played to think about what she was going to say. ‘Hi Jonathan, it’s Charlie. I’m sorry we keep missing each other. I’m going to take the children away for a holiday. I honestly hope that doesn’t cause you any problems … and thanks for, you know…’ and the computerised voice told her that her time was up.