crisp packet and a pair of dirty socks. No slip. ‘There’s nothing there, Polls!’ she yelled and marched back into the kitchen, bag in hand as proof.
Polly had shrugged and slurped the last tail of pasta up into her mouth with a smack. ‘Oh,’ she said, totally unfazed. ‘It must still be in the drawer under my desk. Sorry. But I need to be an angel when I sing my solo at the concert tomorrow.’
Juliet had closed her eyes and counted to ten. And then twenty. When, oh when, would these schools learn that giving kids slips of paper to hand to their parents was a disaster waiting to happen? She really wanted to yell at someone, but she clenched her teeth and swallowed the feeling.
‘Never mind,’ she’d said, not as calmly as she’d have liked. ‘It’s fine. I’m sure we can do something with a pillowcase and a bit of tinsel.’
That was when her daughter’s ever-cool demeanour cracked. She stared back at Juliet in horror. ‘A pillowcase?’
Juliet nodded. ‘That’s all I can do at the last minute. The shops are shut and Violet has the dress rehearsal for her dance thing tonight.’
Polly’s eyes filled and her bottom lip wobbled while the edges of her mouth pulled down and out. She’d always made a strange rectangular shape like that when she cried, ever since she was a baby. Greg had always joked it made her look like a pillar box, but Juliet wasn’t finding it very funny as fat tears rolled down Polly’s cheeks and plopped onto her plate.
‘B – but Tegan has a Disney dress and Arabella’s grandma made her one from scratch, with real feathers on the wings and everything!’
Juliet crouched down by Polly’s chair and put her arm round her, ignoring the twins as they loudly and enthusiastically mimicked their sister’s wailing. ‘I’ll make it look really good, I promise. We’ll use the fancy pillowcases from the guest bedroom, the ones with frills on them.’
Polly crossed her arms and shook her head. ‘No. It won’t do! That’s not what I wanted. I need it to be perfect!’
That’s when Juliet had lost her only barely reined-in temper. Result? One tense-shouldered mother hunched over a sewing machine, and one tearful child who’d needed a few extra cuddles at bedtime. In the end she’d remembered the bridesmaid’s dress that Violet had worn for Greg’s sister’s wedding. Puff sleeves, a sash and full skirt in off-white silk. A few additions here and there and it would be wonderful.
She leaned back in her chair and pressed her hand over her mouth as she let out yet another gigantic yawn, then she pushed the chair away and sloped out of the kitchen and up the stairs to bed.
The alarm went off far too early the following morning, but Juliet didn’t have the time, or the energy, to argue with it. After dropping the kids off at their respective schools, she headed out of town to one of the nearby retail parks. Both boys wanted this year’s must-have toy – an action figure that did all sort of things Juliet couldn’t even remember, and didn’t really want to – but the Internet company she’d ordered them from had emailed her to say they only had one left in stock.
None of the other big websites could promise to deliver it before Christmas, if they even had it in stock at all, and the companies that did ‘click and collect’ were all showing it was sold out on their websites. How could she give one boy their dream present and not the other? But she knew that many of those big retailers didn’t allow you to reserve on the website if there were only a couple left in store. Her only hope was to try any place that might stock it and hope they still had one left on the shelf that wasn’t showing up for reservation on the website.
She was there early enough to find a parking space and jump out, check Toy World, discover they didn’t have any but the branch in Maidstone might have, and jump back in her car within fifteen minutes. By the time she got to Maidstone, however, it was a different story. When she’d scoured the shelves, trying to see if one was stuck at the back or hidden behind something else in the wrong spot, and had come up empty, she queued up at customer services. Of course, the store only had one member of staff on duty, an unusually spotty and slow-witted junior who needed to ask his supervisor to do everything for him. Probably even wipe his nose.
She was second in the queue when she heard the woman in front of her ask exactly the same question she was going to ask, and receive a weary no, so when her turn came she and the junior sales assistant just stared at each other and then she mumbled, ‘Never mind,’ and walked out of the shop.
By the time she got to Bluewater she’d almost lost the will to live. Inside the shopping centre was Juliet’s definition of hell. The wide walkways were crammed with people jostling each other, the queues at the cash tills in every shop seemed to snake for miles and the jaunty music pumping from the speakers in the ceiling was making her want to pick up something sharp and attack someone with it. Seriously, if she heard ‘Happy Holidays’ one more time she was going to scream!
Both toy shops she trudged to had felt-tip-written signs pinned on the inside of the windows, firmly warning customers they were out of stock of Robotron Xtreme, and in a haze of disappointment, she wandered into John Lewis and sought to soothe herself with the sight of all those desirable home furnishings. And it worked. Enough for her mind to clear and realise they had a toy department on the top floor, anyway.
She quickly ran to an escalator and marched up it and onto the next one. She was marching through the pink and girly toy section when she pulled up short. There, stuffed among the Barbies and Hello Kittys was the holy grail – Robotron Xtreme! Obviously dumped in the wrong department by someone who’d changed their mind.
She silently prayed blessings on that fickle soul as she lunged for it and hugged it to her chest with both arms. She wasn’t about to let it go, even if rugby-tackled.
Once the toy was paid for and in a bag, she was heading back to the car, but the euphoria she’d felt at the moment of sale started to drain away. By the time she was driving back towards Tunbridge Wells she felt as if she was in trance. A quick check of the clock on the dashboard revealed that she didn’t have time to go home, so she sped straight to the boys’ and Polly’s school, hid the present in the boot before she picked them up, then headed off to fetch Vi.
The twins were even more ear-splittingly energetic than usual on the drive over, and then she remembered it had been the class party that day and, despite each parent providing both a healthy and a ‘treat’ donation for the food, she suspected her boys had consumed nothing but E-numbers and the poor teacher would now be faced with disposing of multiple pots of cherry tomatoes and trays of rapidly curling brown-bread sandwiches.
‘I’m hungry,’ Josh whined.
‘Me too,’ his brother added.
‘I’m going to cook tea as soon as we get in …’ Lord, forgive her – dubious frozen casserole from the back of the freezer. ‘So you’ll just have to wait until then.’
She was as good as her word, too. Within twenty minutes of walking through the front door, she was dishing up tough-looking meat, slicing chunks off a home-made loaf to go with it and calling the kids to the table. Vi, Polly and Josh appeared, but Jake was nowhere to be seen.
‘Where’s your brother?’ she asked all of them, but directing most of her attention to Violet, who she was attempting to train up as her second-in-command.
Violet looked heavenwards and crossed her arms. ‘How should I know? I try to steer clear of the runts as much as possible.’
Juliet
