The Winter Children (6 page)

‘And furthermore,’ continues the Headmistress, raking the girls with a gimlet glare, as she does when she wants to make a particular point, ‘it is utterly forbidden to communicate in any way with the builders who are working here.’

A rustle moves over the girls.
She’s talking about men.
The thought seems to pass from head to head, and with it, pictures of strange indecencies and forbidden thrills.

‘They are not to have any dealings with you. It is more than the reputation of the school is worth if it were known that our girls were consorting with Irish workmen. There will be the
harshest consequences if there are any infractions of this rule.’ She frowns down at the two hundred girls, from the wide-eyed, uncomprehending first form to the sniggering sixth at the back.
‘And now, our bible reading. The purification of the Blessed Virgin Mary. Mabel Standish, please come forward and read.’

Alice turns to Julia and gives her a giant wink. Julia nudges her back crossly. It only takes one teacher to see, and they’ll be hauled up and interrogated.

‘And who, oh who,’ whispers Alice, leaning in towards Julia, ‘is ever going to purify me?’

Julia stares straight ahead, concentrating on Mabel Standish, and trying to shut Alice’s throaty laugh out of her ears.

I’ll be good
, she promises in her head.
Even if Alice won’t. Maybe I can be good enough for both of us.

Olivia laughs, even though she’s heard the story several times before. She can’t help it. Dan has perfected his imitation of his boss and the little skit of his redundancy. He
manages to make himself look a bit daft, slow to realise he’s being let go, but his boss appears truly stupid and pointlessly mean. Francesca throws back her head and laughs heartily as she
enjoys the rendition.

‘Oh, Dan,’ she says, shaking her head. ‘What on earth were they thinking of, letting you go? What a bloody awful way to treat you, after ten years.’

Dan shrugs as he tops up their glasses from the chilled bottle of white wine. ‘It’s the way the market is at the moment. Job losses all over the place, particularly in the bigger
companies where they’re just completely overstaffed. But even so, I was the best guy they had. I can’t understand what made them do it.’

‘They didn’t deserve you,’ Francesca declares. ‘And you’ll be snapped up in no time.’

‘Amen to that!’ Dan holds up his wine glass, and they clink before drinking.

Olivia looks over and thinks,
It’s nice of Cheska to be so supportive. Dan can always count on her.

She moves with slow deliberation between the kitchen island and the stove, half listening to them as they talk on. She didn’t think she could get much bigger but there doesn’t seem a
limit to how far her body will stretch. Her hips feel loose and her pelvis has softened and widened to allow the babies the room they need. But it won’t be for much longer. They’re due
to be delivered by caesarean section in a couple of days’ time. Her bag is in the hall, packed and waiting. In the tiny spare room, the large white cot is set up, a cheerful mobile of painted
wooden kites hanging over it. There’s a changing table with baskets full of fresh supplies. Teddies are perched on the top of the chest of drawers, piles of clean muslins are on the table
next to the feeding chair, and the feeding pillow is propped up against it. Giant wall stickers of floating balloons brighten the cream walls. There’s nothing more to be done.

I’m ready, I can’t wait . . .
But there is something delicious in this quiet bubble before the babies are born. They’re grown and ready for the world – that part
is over – but they’re also safe inside her where nothing and no one can hurt them.

Dan and Francesca seem entirely absorbed in their conversation, leaning across the table towards one another, lifting glasses of cold white wine to their mouths in a slow pattern. Francesca
appears to know a lot more about all the ins and outs of Dan’s office than Olivia ever has. She tried to follow it but the names of his work colleagues didn’t seem to inspire anything in her imagination. There was never
anything to hang on to. But, she reflects, it’s probably the same for Dan and her work. While words like lupin and peony and agapanthus create bright pictures and emotional responses for her,
they mean nothing to him. She has always secretly thought it is because she is not in his league of intelligence. Francesca, Cambridge educated like Dan, is one of his tribe: ferociously clever
and self-confident, even if she gave up her career years ago. Olivia’s always admired their self-belief, their absorption in matters of the world of business and money, but never envied it.
The only world that matters to her is the one of fertile soil, and the cycle of dormancy and rebirth, the coming to fruition of things that bloom beautifully and then are gone.

I’m blooming beautifully
, she thinks contentedly. She’s never felt so at one with her body and so in awe of its capacity. The miracle of the tiny seed, planted in soil and
fed with water and light, turning into an exquisite flower, is minor compared to the work her body is doing, without any design of hers, as it nurtures the babies inside her.

She looks over at Francesca, sitting across the table from Dan and listening attentively to him, and feels a rush of affection for her. In her great, expansive, fecund state, she feels
infinitely magnanimous. Vaguely she recalls that once, she felt a little uncomfortable about the friendship between her husband and Francesca; it predates her own relationship with him, going back
to their shared university days. She knows that there’s never been anything more than friendship between them – Francesca’s name has never featured in the list of Dan’s previous girlfriends, and once she
idly asked Dan if there had ever been anything between him and Cheska, and he said no. They’d just been friends. He thought of her like a little sister. He described how vulnerable Cheska
seemed when she arrived at Cambridge, a mousy thing trying to find her identity, wide-eyed and lost among the more brilliant, confident students. It took a term or two for her to come out of her
shell and start to prove herself. Even so, he probably never would have become her friend if they hadn’t been assigned as supervision partners. Olivia finds it hard to imagine glamorous
Cheska as a timid little thing.

She recalls the first time she met Cheska. She and Dan were in the sweetest part of their honeymoon phase, still wrapped up in one another but beginning to emerge from their cocoon of obsession
to explore each other’s lives. She had taken Dan to meet her family, and had met his parents. Now they were getting to know their social circles. Cheska made an impression because, unlike
most of them, she was married. On her finger flashed a great, almost ridiculous, solitaire diamond, and a slender platinum band announced that she had taken the grave and grown-up step of matrimony, something Olivia could barely imagine for herself. Cheska was dressed in discreetly expensive clothes, everything about her expressive of money, from her haircut to the plain driving shoes
in soft tan leather with the subtle designer stamp on them.

‘One of my oldest friends,’ Dan said, an arm around Cheska’s shoulders. ‘I don’t know how she put up with me. I was pretty unbearable in our supervisions, wasn’t I? Acting like I knew everything worth knowing at
nineteen.’

Cheska gazed up at him. Despite her sophisticated exterior and aura of self-possession, her expression was almost puppyish. It was gone in a second as she turned to Olivia and smiled
broadly.

‘I managed somehow,’ she said. ‘He wasn’t that bad, honestly. He just needed a bit of taming. We’re so happy that Dan’s found someone like you, Olivia.
Really, we are.’

Olivia warmed to her, glad of her acceptance. And yet, sometimes in those early days, she felt Cheska’s stare on her and when she turned quickly and unexpectedly to meet it, she saw
something appraising there, as though Cheska were studying her, trying to work her out somehow.

Protective
, she thinks now.
Protective of Dan. Worried I might break up the circle of friends. Well, there was no danger of that.
Of course, that was all long ago. Now she feels
she knows that Cambridge group almost as well as her own friends, and while she sees that Dan and Cheska’s friendship is well worn and comfortable, she thinks that she can discern a trace of
something like hero worship in Cheska’s attitude to Dan, perhaps the remnant of something left over from their college days. She can imagine Dan swaggering about, making waves with his dark
good looks, easy charm and humour, his obvious intelligence. He was probably the leader of their little gang, which was why she seemed to look up to him and need his approval. Well, all credit to
Cheska for sticking through what was no doubt his annoying, conceited phase and getting to the other side. Dan is more mellow now, kinder, more patient and definitely less egotistical.

Though he’s still got a touch of swagger about him, and that steely core.
She looks over at him fondly, and then at Cheska, laughing at another of his jokes.

She’s always been lovely to me. She couldn’t have been nicer about the babies.

Cheska was quietly supportive all the way through the long fertility struggle, and delighted when at last it came to fruition. She’d arrived full of excitement, wanting to hear all about
it, every step of the journey, from selecting the donor to the implantation of the eggs and every test and scan. She became a regular visitor, rolling up armed with bags full of goodies –
treats from expensive delis, baby gifts and products to pamper an expectant mother – eager to sit and chat and share all of it. Lately, Olivia has almost begun to think of Francesca as her
friend rather than Dan’s. It surprises her, because their lives could not be more different. Cheska’s rarefied and pampered existence in Switzerland, with the cushion of vast wealth,
is something she can’t relate to at all. Yet somehow, they have bonded. It’s Olivia Francesca rings up and emails, and the two of them have spent hours chatting together about
impending motherhood, nursery colours and the best kind of buggy, while Dan disappeared off to amuse himself with his new-found leisure.

Which is why it’s nice to see them catching up. I’ve been monopolising Cheska a bit recently.

She stirs the fragrant Thai curry, watching the lime leaves float to the surface. It smells delicious. They’ll be eating soon, once the rice has steamed.

‘Cheska, has Dan told you about his grand plan?’ Olivia asks from the stove.

Francesca looks interested. ‘No. What’s this?’

Dan coughs and looks a little abashed. ‘Oh, well . . . it’s not that exciting. We’ve decided that I’m not going to rush into getting another job. I want to be at home
with the babies and Olivia for as long as I can, and we’ve got the redundancy money to tide us over. And . . .’ He smiles. ‘I’ve made a start on writing that play, at last.’

Francesca’s face brightens. ‘That’s wonderful, Dan. You must start writing! You absolutely must. What a great idea.’

‘Yes, it’s the right time.’ Dan takes another drink of wine, then grins. ‘You never know, if it all works out, I might not have to go back into consultancy at all. But
there won’t be much writing once the babies get here.’

‘No!’ Francesca laughs. ‘Even one baby tends to fill up all the available space. You’ll have two to contend with. But how wonderful that you’ll be here for Olivia.
It’s worked out quite well, hasn’t it?’

‘Dinner’s ready,’ announces Olivia, lifting up the saucepan. ‘Shall we eat?’

When the meal is over and Francesca is preparing to leave, she comes over to hug Olivia. The bump is so huge, she has to approach almost sideways.

‘I probably won’t see you again until the babies are here,’ she says, kissing Olivia’s cheek. Her hand lightly strokes Olivia’s bump, as though searching for the feel of the babies below the skin. ‘But I’ll be thinking of you. Make sure I’m on the list for an alert when they arrive,
won’t you?’

‘You’ll be the first to know,’ Olivia says, returning the embrace.

‘Bye, Dan.’ Francesca hugs him too, then stands back, pulling her handbag strap over her shoulder, and looks at them mistily. ‘You two are going to be fabulous parents. Lucky
babies, to have you both waiting for them.’

‘Thank you,’ Olivia says, touched. ‘That’s lovely, Francesca.’

‘I mean it.’ Francesca smiles. She looks at Dan. ‘You’re going to be a great father, I just know it. I’m so excited to meet the babies. Bye, darlings. Take
care.’

When she’s gone, Dan clears up the dinner things, while Olivia sips herbal tea and rests.

‘Cheska is wonderful, isn’t she?’ she says idly, as she sees the carrier bag Francesca left behind. It holds two expensive sheepskin rugs for the babies to play on.
‘She’s been so involved and so interested. She’s been there for me more than anyone else.’

There’s a tiny pause and then Dan says with a trace of a prickle in his voice, ‘Well, I guess that’s the good thing about not having to work for a living.’

‘Oh.’ Olivia is a little taken aback. Dan is usually nice about Francesca. Occasionally he’s muttered something about the waste in giving up a Cambridge education, a law degree
and a promising career, but only with fondness.

Dan looks over his shoulder from the sink, looking sheepish. ‘I didn’t mean that to sound unkind. I mean, she’s genuine. She really does care. But she also has sod all to do
these days.’

‘Why did she give up work? Surely Walt wouldn’t have minded if she’d carried on.’ Olivia wipes crumbs from the tabletop, sending them scattering onto the floor. She ought
to clear them up, but can’t be bothered.

‘Who knows?’ He places a pan in the drainer. ‘She was set to be a star. Our tutor said he thought she’d have a glittering career. But in the third year, she just
couldn’t seem to stay focused. Her Finals result wasn’t quite as brilliant as she’d been predicted. Then she struggled at law school and gave it up before she’d finished.
She was going to become a human rights advocate, but she dropped out and got a job as a PA to some businessman instead. That’s how she met Walt, I think.’