Pedigree Mum (23 page)

Rob, who’s arrived now,
does
look different these days. While he still favours his usual weekend attire of smart jeans and expensive-looking cotton sweater, there’s also a cloud of tension around him.

‘Is he always like this?’ Rob asks from his cross-legged position on the kitchen floor as he tries to bat Buddy away from his crotch. Disconcertingly, instead of dashing straight off to his parents with the children, he has chosen to hang around to help Freddie with his Great Wall of China, an ambitious Lego construction which now bisects the kitchen.

‘You know what’s strange?’ Kerry says tersely. ‘He might not be the best-behaved dog in the world, but he’s actually never done this to anyone but you.’

‘Well, that’s nice,’ Rob says as Buddy continues to
investigate his nether regions. ‘Suppose I should be flat
tered, then.’

As Kerry regards him with distaste, sitting there pathetically on the floor, she is overwhelmed by an urge to kick him hard in the shins. She can’t, of course – not with Freddie beside him, carefully placing a yellow brick on the top of the wall. She must
behave nicely.
God. The effort required triggers a strong desire for wine, and it’s only 11 a.m… .

‘Maybe it’s a smell you’re giving off,’ she adds.

‘What d’you mean by that?’

‘Well,’ she says dryly, ‘perhaps you’re giving off a powerful testosterone scent that only dogs can detect. Maybe it’s an age thing – you know, your final hormonal surge.’

Rob makes a small grunting sound.

‘Or,’ she continues, quite enjoying herself now, ‘you’ve brought it on yourself because you’ve got this
thing
about dogs homing straight for your toilet parts and it’s become a self-fulfilling prophecy.’

‘You’re deranged,’ he mutters, shaking his head.

‘I don’t think I am, Rob.’

‘Look,’ he says tetchily, ‘could you just call him off me please?’

Call him off
, as if he’s a savage police hound. Kerry snorts in derision as Rob tries to push him away, which has the effect of making Buddy sit obediently at his side and offer him a paw.

‘He’s giving you his paw, Daddy,’ Freddie observes.

‘Is he? That’s nice.’ Rob shrinks away a little.

‘Don’t you
like
Buddy?’

‘Of course I do, Freddie. He’s, ah … a real character.’

Kerry turns away, wondering if these handovers will become easier with time, and if she’ll ever stop wanting to physically hurt him.
Please leave now
, she urges him silently.
Just fuck off out of my house
.

‘Buddy’s fine with all the other men who come round,’ she says before she can stop herself. Oh, the murky depths she’s plummeted to now.
All the men who are desperate to ravish me, you arse, and who are thrilling in bed, unlike you who – I have to say this – was a pretty bloody tedious lay with your, ‘Ooh, give me a little scratchy first’ routine …

The years of her life she wasted, dutifully running the tips of her nails up and down the jerk’s back. And the baby voice he used when he asked her! Ugh, she could puke right here on Aunt Maisie’s floral-patterned lino. How had she forgotten
that
?

Kerry clears her throat. ‘Freddie, could you please go upstairs and tell Mia that Daddy’s ready to leave now?’

Mercifully, he scatters a handful of Lego on the floor and charges upstairs as requested while Rob straightens up, somewhat
creakily
, Kerry is pleased to note. However, if he’s distraught by the possibility of her entertaining copious gentleman callers, he certainly isn’t showing it.

Perhaps to distance himself from Buddy, who has rolled onto his back anticipating a belly tickle, Rob has now pos-
itioned himself at the kitchen window. He looks, Kerry
decides, like someone who’s just arrived at a rented holiday cottage and is assessing the view. She feels idiotic now for trying to make him jealous. After all, the prospect of going to bed with anyone ever again is highly unlikely. Sex has become like golf to her, or fly fishing – something other people do, and she can’t for the life of her see what’s so enticing about it. Last time she slept with a man who wasn’t Rob, mobile phones weighed roughly the same as a bag of sugar and she could have redecorated the house in the time it took to log on to the internet. What would happen now, if she were to find herself in bed with someone? Would candid shots of her naked body be broadcast across the globe?

Even
thinking
about sex with Rob in the vicinity feels wrong. Pointedly refusing to break the awkward silence, Kerry busies herself by pretending to sort through an enormous stack of paperwork from the top of the fridge.

‘We were at the hospital on Thursday night,’ Rob murmurs, still facing the window.

‘Oh. What was wrong?’ She keeps her voice flat, emotionless.

Rob exhales forcefully. ‘Er … Nadine had some pains. Thought she was going to miscarry …’

Why the hell is he telling her this, and how does he expect her to respond?

‘So what happened?’ Kerry asks flatly, aware of the children chattering upstairs – no, arguing, actually. Mia has apparently ‘stolen’ Freddie’s wellies.

‘She was scanned, everything was fine – seems like it was just a warning. Doctor says she’s got to take it easy, she’s probably just been doing too much …’

‘Mmmm.’ Kerry flicks through a wodge of paper – a reminder to have Mia’s eyes tested, something from the bank, a new contract from
Cuckoo Clock
, a questionnaire asking her how she plans to boost Shorling’s chances of winning Britain’s Prettiest Seaside Town …
If there are windowboxes at your property, are they: well-tended/requiring attention/empty at present (please tick box) …

‘She’s … er … coming to Mum and Dad’s this weekend,’ Rob adds. ‘I hope that’s okay with you.’

Kerry blinks at the piece of paper in her hand.
If you are able to get involved during the week prior to judging, what kind of help can you offer? Litter picking/exterior painting/tending communal gardens … please tick box.

‘It’s none of my business really,’ she replies, so relieved when Mia runs into the kitchen that she could hug her.

It’s Rob who’s bestowed with cuddles, though. Kerry watches, feeling momentarily redundant as Mia exclaims, ‘I didn’t know you were here, Daddy! Freddie didn’t tell me …’

‘Me and Mummy were just having a chat,’ he says. ‘I love your hair in those little plaits, by the way. Very pretty. So what have you been up to this week?’

Her face crumples. ‘Audrey-Jane was mean to me at school.’

‘Aw, what did she do, sweetheart?’

‘She said I could play, and we
were
playing, then Tabitha came over and they ran off and told me to go away …’

‘Oh.’ Rob, who finds the intricacies of girls’ friendships baffling, clearly doesn’t know how to respond.

‘They said we’re poor,’ she adds.

‘Silly girls,’ he blusters. ‘What a load of nonsense. They’re just spoiled rotten, okay? Anyway, I heard you’ve been doing really well in class …’

‘Yeah. Got to read my story out.’

‘That’s fantastic, darling. Well, the others are probably just jealous.’ Freddie has reappeared now, and Kerry quickly checks their overnight bags to ensure that essentials haven’t been discarded in favour of yet more cuddly toys.

‘All set then?’ She glances at Rob. ‘It’s just, I have a pupil due in ten minutes.’

‘But I wanna finish my wall.’ Freddie glares down at his Lego construction.

‘Sorry, we need to go now,’ Rob says gently, taking his hand. ‘Come on, Nanny and Nonno are so looking forward to seeing you.’

Thank God for Rob’s parents, Kerry thinks, not for the first time since the break-up. Rob is using their place as a base for when he has the children, which means they’re still getting Daddy-time – she isn’t so peevish as to deny them that – without having to stay in the London house, where they don’t even have beds anymore. Or, worse still,
her
flat where, presumably, Rob will soon be living full-time. Despite her determination to be fair and reasonable, Kerry isn’t sure she can handle the idea of them staying there. At least, not yet.

‘Can we take the wall,’ Freddie asks hopefully, ‘and finish it at Nanny and Nonno’s?’

‘Of course not, stupid,’ Mia crows. ‘It’ll break.’

‘No it won’t.’ He blows a farty noise in her face.

‘I’ll keep it safe for you,’ Kerry says quickly, ‘and you can finish it when you get back, okay?’

‘
Don’t
smash it up.’ He fixes her with a fierce stare.

‘Of course I won’t, darling.’
Although, if you were to construct a Lego model of your father’s face …

They’re leaving now, and at the sight of Kerry hugging the children, Buddy leaps for the door as if trying to block their exit.

‘He gets a bit stressed when people leave,’ Kerry says over his fretful barks.

‘A dog with a separation anxiety?’ Rob pulls a wry smile.

‘Yes, well, he has abandonment issues.’ Restraining Buddy by his collar, she steps outside with Rob and the children, shutting the door firmly behind her.

A car has pulled up, and Harvey climbs out, looking mildly taken aback by the small group who are clambering into Rob’s car, and the urgent barking from inside the house.

‘Hi, Harvey,’ Kerry says with a smile, glancing back to see Buddy who’s on the back of the sofa now, steaming the glass with his breath. ‘Just saying goodbye,’ she adds. ‘Won’t be a minute.’

‘Yeah, sure.’ No need to introduce him to Rob, she decides as he buckles the children’s seatbelts and climbs into the front. For all he knows, this handsome young man has come round to whisk her off to that glass cube seafood restaurant, followed by an afternoon in bed. She tries to transmit the message:
I am fully intending to have hot sex with this man
. But she can’t even do that. With all the barking going on, Kerry is incapable of dredging up a lewd thought. Anyway, Mia has lowered the rear window and is shouting, ‘It’s that clown man again! It’s Harvey Chuckles!’ Which causes Harvey to blush and Rob to smirk, infuriatingly, before driving away.

*

Harvey, it turns out, is a joy to teach. Keen and attentive, he picks up simple chords and melodies with ease, and soon Kerry starts to feel halfway human again.

‘So you do children’s parties,’ Kerry says after his lesson.

‘Yep, for my sins.’ He steps gingerly over the Great Wall of China in the kitchen and ruffles Buddy behind the ears.

‘Well, I admire you. Two birthday parties a year are enough for me. I can knock together a cake and organise a few games, but there’s always that sense that everything could spiral out of control at any minute …’

‘I know that feeling. Last one I did, some kid pelted me with barley sugars.’

‘Who gives out barley sugars at a children’s party?’

‘God knows,’ he laughs. ‘I suspect they were handed out as ammunition – you know, make me work for my fee.’

‘I don’t suppose …’ She pauses. ‘No, I’m sure you’ll be busy – it’s the Saturday between Christmas and New Year …’

‘What is?’

‘Mia’s birthday party. We’re having it here, planning to invite a few of her class …’ She breaks off again, wondering how much to tell him. ‘It’ll be her first birthday since we moved here,
and
since her dad and I split up,’ she explains, ‘so I really want it to go well for her. I don’t suppose you’d be free that day, the twenty-ninth?’ She sees him hesitate and regrets putting him on the spot.

‘Fine, I’m sure I could do that.’

‘Well, if something else comes up …’

‘No, I’d like to do it,’ he adds firmly.

She smiles, relieved. ‘I don’t know why I didn’t think of booking someone before. It’s probably because Rob wouldn’t have considered it. How feeble does
that
sound?’ She laughs. ‘Sometimes it feels as if I’m still getting used to being on my own, you know? And when things need seeing to – like horrible stuff bubbling up in the shower – I need to think, okay, don’t panic, just call someone who knows what they’re doing …’ She stops abruptly, conscious of babbling on. Since when did she become incapable of conducting herself like a normal person?

‘Well,’ he says, ‘I’ll do my best. Maybe, um …’ He glances down at the garish orange floor. ‘Would it be awful of me to suggest doing it in exchange for a couple of piano lessons?’

‘Sure, but more than a couple. Say … five, does that sound okay? Would that cover your normal fee?’

‘Oh,
more
than. That’s very generous of you.’

‘That’s a deal then.’ She grins, feeling her spirits rise as she sees Harvey out. And, although it’s immensely tempting to text Rob to tell him she’s just booked a children’s entertainer, with steely willpower she manages to resist.

‘I can’t believe you still buy him an advent calendar,’ Nadine tells Mary, Rob’s mother. ‘That’s the
cutest
thing I ever heard.’

Rob watches in tight-jawed silence as his girlfriend fixes his mum with a beaming, red-lipped smile which has yet to be returned.

‘He’s always had one, hasn’t he, Eugene?’ Mary flicks her gaze towards Rob’s father, who merely nods and looks down at his plate. ‘I gave it to him last weekend,’ she adds, ‘in time for the first of December. But he left it here.’

‘That’s even better,’ Nadine goes on, ‘because today’s, what – the eighth? So you’ve got eight chocolates to eat, Rob, you lucky man!’

Rob darts a look at Nadine, trying to transmit the message that she must stop this immediately, that his parents’ rather stiff and formal dining room is no place to start wittering on about advent calendars and taking the piss out of him. Conversations here tend to orbit the same safe territories: the children, his job, his father’s pickle business and his mother’s latest triumphs at the WI.

‘Oh, I love advent calendars, don’t you?’ Nadine is addressing Mia and Freddie now, who are regarding her with astonishment, as if she’s just burst out of a cake. She picks up her glass of sparkling water and beams around the table. ‘They’re one of the best things about Christmas, aren’t they? Do
you
two get them?’