Diary of a Mummy Misfit #1 (25 page)

At around 11 they began to arrive in dribs and drabs with talk of Pilates sessions, traffic on the King’s Road Chelsea and assorted dramas with cleaners, nannies, builders and project managers.

Fenella and I acted as the dutiful hostesses, dishing out Earl Grey here, mineral water there.  A couple even had a cup of the evil brew - coffee.  Little devils!  Felt like we were dishing out in some kind of speakeasy during the prohibition, some of them fell on it with such eagerness.

Got chatting to a very sweet nanny, Olga, who was clearly uncomfortable - know how she feels. She looks after Henry in Max’s class but I’ve never met the mother - big knob in the City or something.

Olga was telling me the mother had insisted she come along to the coffee morning to get to know the other mothers, “So important for Henry”, and also to find out what she could do to help with the Christmas fair - Olga of course,
not
the mother.

“I am not knowing vhy zees silly mudders are popping out de babies if zey never vant to see zem.  She saw Henners vunce last veek, just before bedtime - poor little bugger, my heart it bleed for him.”

Think she might be taking her English lessons from Eastenders.

The Gnome and Gestapo held court for rather too long, discussing food rotas for the day of the fair and how clever they’d been to come up with such an original idea.  Much blowing of own trumpets and patting of backs.

Fenella managed to rein them in by bashing a wooden spoon onto the side of a saucepan - think we may need to invest in a referee’s whistle though because some of them still didn’t take any notice.

Eventually managed to explain, over much interruption and rude whispering - God I know how it must feel to be teacher now - that it was our class dinner on Saturday and we’d booked a table for the six couples who had already replied.  Any other parents wanting to attend should let us know by Friday, the latest.

Gestapo spoke up, “But I can’t possibly let you know by Friday.  I’ll just turn up if I can.”

In other words, she’s hedging her bets to see if a better offer comes up.  Let’s hope it does.

Moved swiftly on to the Christmas fair and managed to delegate more jobs.  Olga volunteered to help with setting up the school hall for the event.

Gestapo spewed forth again, “No, no no, Olga.  You’ll be far too busy preparing the food,
that’s
what the nannies are doing.  DO YOU UNDERSTAND?” It was embarrassingly like watching Basil Fawlty with Manuel, her volume increasing to make this
foreigner
comprehend
English.
  Then, in an aside to the Gnome, she said “God, I don’t now how Lydia copes with her.  Thick as pig-shit.”

Olga smiled sweetly and replied, “I am understanding most well sank you.  I vill do de skivvy jobs and zen maybe you could set up de hall.  You vill have ze time, yes?”  And then, very quietly to me, “Vot a minger!”

Gestapo quickly excused herself from being able to do the set up.  “Heavens no.  I’m having new acrylics fitted on the Thursday and I’m not ruining two hundred quid by doing
manual
work.”

It was agreed that Stick Insect and the Gnome would help us on the night.

Must remember to provide a step-ladder for the Gnome or she’ll be worse than useless.

Think we achieved everything we set out to.  Felt really sorry for Olga as she left.  She’d been given instructions to go to Gestapo’s house - no offer of a lift - to collect her supplies for the pizzas she was to start making and freezing.

Heard her mumble, “I’m not ‘appy.  Vun day I kick her ‘ead in. Zen she be sorry!”

Couldn’t agree more, Olga.  Phil Mitchell would be proud.

Wednesday 17
^th
September

Mrs S now has a computer and I received an email from her this morning.

‘Testing, testing.  My Pritesh is training me in the ways of the modern world.  Are you receiving?  Over and out.  Yours sincerely, Mrs Sengupta, next door.’

Much as I love her, something tells me this will be the first of many.

Max was very excited to receive his invite to Todd’s birthday party next month.  Fenella had decided on a small family affair, as Todd hadn’t wanted any children from school - think he’s still finding it tough making new friends.

“We could buy him a Playstation 3, couldn’t we Mummy?  I bet he’d like that.”

Yes, I bet he would but the Marchant family budget won’t be running to anywhere near that.

Thought I could fob him off with, “Perhaps we’ll have a chat to Fenella.  There must be a DVD he wants.”

“Yeah, or maybe an Xbox.  That would be better.”

Think it’s time to start explaining money in more detail than ‘too many pennies’.

Received return email from Mrs S this evening:

‘Oh my goodness, Libbybeta.  How amazing that our computers can talk to one another through the walls.  We are now penpals, are we not?  My Pritesh has opened a whole new world to me.  Must hurry along as I want to check on a barter I have put in for some leopard skin leisure panties in a shop called eBay.’

Thursday 18
^th
September

Chatted to Olga at school gates.  Don’t think it’s the done thing because I noticed several disapproving stares from the other mothers - ‘Ugh, she’s mixing with the hired help!  How crass.”

Olga was telling me about her new boyfriend Vein (Wayne), a builder  - “Viz a bod like a shit house!”

She was explaining that he wanted to ‘do de sexy thing’ and she didn’t know how.

Seemed a rather delicate conversation to be having at the school gates but I felt a bit sorry for her.  She obviously needed someone to talk to.  Told her she should wait and not let him force her into anything she didn’t want to do.

“But I do
vant
to do it.  I just never have de bloody time because I am always heving to take care of Henners.  I heven’t had a day of for tree veeks.  I’m … how you say … gagging for a shagging.”

Fenella joined us and, hearing the tale end of the conversation said, “Who? Who’s shagging who?  Come on spill the beans girls.”  She was also rewarded with disparaging looks from the clique.

Didn’t feel at liberty to divulge Olga’s personal details to Fenella so kept quiet.

Olga was obviously only too happy to discuss her sex life with any passing listener though, because she continued,  “No, no Fenella. No one shagging - just vish I
could
! Vot’s a poor girl to do ven she vant a bit but can’t find de time?”

Fenella laughed, “My darling you’ve picked the wrong two to ask - we’re mothers for goodness sake!  Have to say it’s a bit off though when you’re a single girl and you can’t get your leg over.  I’d be complaining to your boss if I were you.”

“Ya, I did dis but she just say, ‘Vot you sink I pay you for?’  She vould never understand, frigid cow.  Her husband has to do it viz Mrs Clarkson from Year three.  Everyone know what zey is getting up to!  Last year dey voz caught in de bogs at de Chrissie party.  He
said
he was holding her head while she trew up but everyone knows why he was
really
holding her head down dere.”

Between Jenny and Olga, Fenella and I could be finding ourselves privy to a mine of juicy gossip.  Who said school life was boring?

Friday 19
^th
September

Confirmed beyond doubt this morning that Manor House parents seem to have their own set of road rules and spacial awareness.  We really should have been given guidelines along with the school prospectus.

Aside from the general braille parking, we have the ‘Sorry, I’m far too busy on my mobile to get out of your way - even though I’m sitting in the middle of the road.’  And the ‘I’m just going to reverse right here and now without bothering to look behind me’, or ‘The yellow grids outside the school don’t apply to
me.
  I always park on them so I don’t have so far to walk.’  And then the residents of the flats either side of the school’s favourite, ‘Oops, did I leave my car parked across your driveway for half an hour making you a prisoner in your own forecourt?’

But this morning, we had a new one.  Apart from on-street parking the school also has a drive through/drop off system for the older kids, which works very well if everyone keeps moving.

Today we had ‘The Faffer’ - she pulled in to the school drive, children jumped out, then back in for forgotten sports kit/lunch boxes.  She then watched them in her rear view as they struggled to open the boot to get bags out.  When she eventually decided to help them, she had a ‘mwah-mwah’ air kiss with a friend and proceeded to have an in depth conversation with her, totally oblivious to the toots and hoots.

She finally moved on when Colin-the-caretaker had a discrete word with her, looking at me and shaking his head in despair.  “A different breed, I tell you!”

Olga caught up with me just as I was approaching the car - she told me she’d decided not to do the ‘sexy thing’ with her builder and had, in fact, dumped him last night as she’d now developed a bit of a thing for … the barmaid (!) at the family’s local who was always slipping her free drinks. She actually admitted still feeling a little drunk from last night - as she unlocked the door to the family Volvo!

Hope I didn’t come across as too reticent when she asked if Max would go for a play-date (sorry, Lou!) with Henry one day.  Can’t understand how these mothers can go off to work and leave their children to be cared for by such young and irresponsible girls - as much as I like Olga, I don’t know that I’d be prepared to trust her with my son.