The Middle Child (4 page)

     The room was almost empty.  Two women sat at the desk and Tim was in the far corner amongst colourful toys and the girls.  A boy showed Jess something in a pop-up book.

    
"Thank goodness.  I’m not too late, am I?" Catherine asked, smiling at Tim.

    
"I waited until last," Tim said, rising to his feet.  "Show Jamie how that toy works," He instructed Jess, ruffling her hair.  He moved to the other corner of the room, away from the children.

     Catherine tried to pre-empt his words. 
"Tim, I’m sorry.  I know how important tonight is but you’ll never guess what’s happened."

    
"And it’s still all about you, isn’t it?" he hissed.  "We’ve been here for two hours.  Miss Whitney has called us twice.  We should have been home ages ago.  The girls are tired and restless.  They want to go to bed and the only thing you’re bothered about is your damn promotion."

     Catherine tried to keep a reign on her anger.  Her feelings during the drive from the wine bar had alternated.  Her indignation at Tim’s lack of support for her career had fought with her wish to smooth over the troubled waters, prompting the immediate apology.

     "I’ve explained why I had to…"

    
"Save it, Catherine.  I’m not interested.  Take a look at that woman sitting at the desk.  She’s twenty-four years of age and that’s her six year old son.  She’s a single mother and has three part-time jobs to support him.  And guess what?  She got here on time."

     Catherine opened her mouth to retort but Tim was heading towards the desk where the two women were now standing.  He shook the woman's hand and ruffled the head of the young boy before they left the classroom.

     "Would you like to come over?" the teacher asked, smiling kindly. 

     She took her seat beside Tim and though they were only separated by inches Catherine could feel the gaping chasm between them.

     Miss Whitney smiled at them both, her green eyes friendly and open.  "I’d like to congratulate you both on your lovely daughters."

     Catherine felt Tim’s chest expand slightly with pride whereas despite Miss Whitney’s best efforts to put them at ease she still felt as though she was back at school.

     "They’re both very bright young girls but I do have one or two concerns.  Lucy is the quieter of the two and her interaction with the other children is often reserved.  I’m not saying that there’s a major problem but she only really likes to partake in activities that don’t include being part of a group.  Singular activities such as painting she absolutely excels at but she struggles to take part in group games."

    
"She’s just shy," Catherine defended.

    
"There are other shy children in the class, Mrs Richards, but none quite so isolated as Lucy.  Jess, on the other hand is the complete opposite, umm… too much so if I can be honest."

     Despite the teacher's smile, Catherine felt her heckles rising.  Who the hell was this woman to start judging her children?

     "Jess is constantly in the mix of everything that’s going on.  Unlike Lucy she hates the solitary activities.  She has a lot of energy and a need for attention…"

    
"She is not spoilt," Catherine exploded.  Tim cast a warning glance in her direction.

     Miss Whitney shook her head. 
"I’m not inferring that she is.  It is often the case with twins that their personalities can be extreme but Jess does seem to demand a lot of attention be it positive or otherwise and sometimes she can be a disruptive influence on the rest of the class."

    
"So, you’re saying that she’s naughty?"

     Miss Whitney frowned, as though somehow her words were changing into something else once they’d left her mouth.

     "Jess isn’t a naughty child.  She has lots of energy and I’m sure if it was channelled in the right direction she’d be a much…"

    
"Miss Whitney, I am not going to listen to any more of this rubbish.  My children are not dysfunctional.  They are completely normal six year olds."

     Miss Whitney looked towards Tim beseechingly.  Catherine saw that her raised voice had caught the attention of the girls.

     "Sit down," Tim ordered, with steel in his voice.  Catherine sat.

    
"As I said before, both Lucy and Jess are wonderful girls and a delight to teach.  My only concern is that their social skills are quite limited."  Seeing the granite look on Catherine’s face she moved on swiftly.

    
"On a more positive note, Jess absolutely excels in physical activity.  She loves to run and play games and invariably beats the rest hands down."

     Tim nodded knowingly and shared a smile with the young teacher.  Catherine felt annoyed and excluded.

     "She has a particular love of gymnastics and it’s something I’d like her to pursue during this new school year."

    
"She’s the same at home.  She can form herself into all sorts of shapes."

     Catherine smiled despite the fact that she hadn’t seen any of these shapes.

     "Now onto Lucy."

     Catherine heard a subtle change in the teacher’s voice.  Almost like she'd eaten the starter and it was time for the main course.

     "I’d like to show you something."  She reached in her drawer and extracted an exercise book.  She turned a few pages in and turned the book to face them.

     
"What is it?" Catherine asked.

    
"I asked the class to paint a picture of the planet earth.  As you can see from Lucy’s picture she went much further than that.  She looked at the picture on the wall and produced the entire solar system."

    
"She copied a picture?" Catherine asked, trying to understand the teacher’s excitement.

    
"She did much more than that.  Look at how she managed to emulate the subtle shades of the colours.  She would have needed to mix colours to achieve that – something far in excess of normal capabilities for this age group.  Look at the detail she put into the placement of the stars.  The fact that everything within the picture is in proportion to each other."

    
"But ultimately, you’re telling me that she copied a picture?"

     Tim shot daggers in her direction as he looked towards the girls.  Lucy had moved slightly closer and her face looked flushed and crest-fallen.  She returned to her place beside Jess on the play mat.

     "What I’m trying to demonstrate is that this painting is an exceptional piece of work and would be for a child double her age."

    
"She’s six years old and she copied a picture," Catherine exclaimed ignoring Tim’s warning glance.  Catherine was concerned about the ideas this teacher might be putting into a young girl’s head.  What she saw on the page was a mixture of balls daubed with pretty colours.

        
"What I’m trying to say, Mrs Richards, is that Lucy is an incredibly talented and gifted child and this talent should be nurtured and encouraged."

     The woman continued to drone on as Catherine found herself transported back to a similar room many years earlier.

     "Catherine, that is absolutely beautiful," Mrs Tromans had said to her.

     Catherine had liked Mrs Tromans.  She was big and warm with woolly cardigans and feather ear-rings. 
She smelled of flowery perfume, smiled a lot and patted her on the head.

    
"I love the way you’ve used green glitter to form the branches of the Christmas tree."

    
The teacher took the card from her.  "Truly, Catherine, this is a very skilful piece of work."

     Catherine glowed with pride as Mrs Tromans touched the sparkly glitter. 
"Is this for your mum?"

     Catherine nodded.

     "I think she’ll love it and give it pride of place above the fire.  Go and write a nice message inside so that you can take it home today."

     Catherine returned to the table and sat silently for a moment.  She picked up a crayon but she didn’t know what to write.  She glanced at Becky’s card and saw that it was filled with hearts and kisses and stars.  She had a good look and then copied what Becky had done.

     The finished card filled her with pride.  The hearts were better than Becky’s because they were coloured in.  The stars were prettier because she’d done them in different colours.  Mrs Tromans was right, Catherine decided.  Her mum was sure to love it.

     She placed the card at the back of her exercise book to protect it from the plimsolls in her bag.  The covers of the book would keep it flat and clean.

     She skipped home imagining her mum putting up the Christmas tree.  All of her school friends were already filled with wonder at the glistening baubles and colourful tinsel of their own trees but hers wasn’t up yet.

     The house was a
s bare as when she’d left it.  No bright Christmas tree with colourful lights or red and white candy canes.

     Her mum stood at the
table spreading jam sandwiches for tea, a grim look on her face.  Beth stood solemnly beside her cutting the sandwiches into smaller squares.  Alex was waving her potty around her head in the living room.

     Catherine took the card from the supermarket carrier bag that served as her school bag.  She handed the card to her mum who opened it and started laughing.  For a moment, just a brief moment Catherine thought that she had done something good.  The smile turned into a sneer and cold eyes rested upon her.

     "What the bloody hell is this?"

    
"A Christmas card."

     Her mum turned it over and looked at every surface. 
"You could have fooled me.  It’s a scrap of shitty paper with some cheap glitter thrown on it."

    
"I made it for you," Catherine tried to explain, thinking it would make a difference.  "I wrote in the middle…"

    
"You spelt Christmas wrong."  Her mum smiled again, the corners of her mouth twisting.  "I’ve got enough fucking rubbish to red rid of.  I don’t need no more," she laughed tossing it into the bin amongst the stale bread and used tea bags.

     Catherine felt the tears sting the back of her eyes.  The card, so colourful and bright in the bin.

     "But Mrs Tromans said..."

    
"Fuck Mrs Tromans.  Teachers will say anything to get you to behave.  It's no fucking masterpiece I can tell you that much."

     Beth moved to
retrieve it but her mother was faster and poured the dregs from the teapot into the bin.

     Catherine backed out of the room, desperate not to let the tears fall over her cheeks
.  Making the card had taken her into a world of her own.  She had become oblivious to the rest of the classroom.  She had been transported into a parallel universe where it was just her and the picture in her head.  And she'd thought it had been good. 

     She had never picked up a paintbrush again.

     Catherine shook herself back to the present.  She'd heard enough.  She had no idea where this girl, who was hardly out of college herself, got the gall to fill the heads of her children with outlandish claims.

     Catherine stood and offered her hand. 
"Thank you for your time, Miss Whitney, but it’s late and the girls are tired."

     Having no choice, Tim followed suit before calling the girls over.  Catherine felt the awkwardness between them as they left the classroom but she didn’t care.  That teacher had no right filling anyone’s head with unrealistic expectations. 
"Honestly, who does that…"

    
"Catherine," Tim said, indicating the girls walking between them.  She sighed.  She would explain her point once the girls were in bed.

     Tim ushered the girls into his car and she followed behind.

     When she pulled onto the drive she saw that the gentle hum of the drive home had lulled the girls to sleep.

     Tim opened the back door and his face softened.  He nodded for her to take a look at the girls lolled against each other in the back seat. 

     "It’s a shame to wake them.  I’ll carry Jess, you get Lucy."

     Catherine watched as he carefully released the seat belt and gently placed one arm beneath her legs and the other supporting her neck.  She stirred slightly but turned her face into Tim’s jacket, her eyes firmly closed.  He expertly opened the front door without disturbing the sleeping form in his arms.

     Catherine knelt beside Lucy and shook her arm gently.  "Lucy, wake up, we’re home.  Come on, get out of the car."

     Lucy opened her eyes with effort but they drooped closed again.  Catherine shook her again. 
"Lucy, it’s late, wake up and go inside the house, now," she said, her voice sterner.

     The child did as she was told and climbed out of the car.

     Catherine followed Lucy into the house.  Her daughter looked like a drunk, swaying from side to side hitting both the wall and the banister on her way up the stairs.