‘I did put a message on the class WhatsApp,’ said Eugenia, raising her voice slightly so that a hush fell over the room and everyone turned to listen. ‘Everyone else has agreed.’
Did she think I was going to be intimidated? I had taken on scarier people than Eugenia Tytherington-Smythe in my time.
‘I don’t think any of us are on the WhatsApp,’ I said, also making my voice a little louder and clearer. ‘Sofia chose these things specially, so that’s what she will be wearing.’
I ignored the heavy silence and started brushing Sofia’s hair into two high bunches. I secured them with bands that had glittery chiffon streamers, then picked up some crystal encrusted clips.
‘Two of these in each side, right, darling?’ I asked her, and she nodded.
‘If you’re putting them in, I think I will, too,’ said a voice from the other side of the room. I looked over to see a woman taking a small plastic bag out of her pocket. ‘I brought them just in case.’ She shot me a grin, which I returned.
‘I’ve got masses here if anyone wants to share?’ said another woman, and soon there was a hubbub as the sparkly contraband was produced from handbags and pockets.
Avoiding her mother’s eyes, which I feared might turn me to stone, I smiled at Vienna.
‘Would you like to borrow something? We’ve got plenty.’
She curled her lip at me.
‘No,’ she said, and turned to walk back to her desk, her mother stalking after her.
‘There you go,’ I said to Sofia. ‘You look fab.’
I dug my phone out and took a photo so she could see herself.
‘I love it, Laura!’ she said, starting to bounce again. ‘Will you send it to Mummy?’
‘I don’t have her number, I’m afraid, but I’ll send it to Uncle Nick and he can pass it on, okay?’
She skipped off to see her friends while I attached the photo to a message, hoping that Nick was back from Exeter and waiting in the audience:
Sofia says please can you send this to Victoria? She is very excited! I have made an enemy of someone called Eugenia, by contravening hair accessory dictates.
A message pinged straight back.
Sent it on, thanks. We’re all here, tell S break a leg. It’s easy to make an enemy of ET-S, she loathes Astrid because she wouldn’t pay for India to go to Camilla’s birthday party. See you soon, we’re in the second row, got a seat saved for you.
Relieved, I pushed my phone back into my pocket and went to kiss Sofia goodbye and wish her luck, as a tall, smiling woman came into the room.
‘Thank you, everyone, time to go and find your seats now, I’ll take it from here.’
We all began gathering their belongings together, when Eugenia’s loud voice cut over the noise.
‘Mrs Accrington? Idothink the girls should remove the hair adornments and everyone should have a simpler look, like Vienna. The Princes’helpwasn’t aware of my request on the WhatsApp group for a more tasteful approach.’
Mrs Accrington’s experienced eyes roamed over the pair, then around the room, landing on Sofia and finally me.
‘I think you all look amazing,’ she said warmly. ‘It’s Laura, isn’t it?’ I nodded. ‘Astrid told me you’d be here to help, thankyou. Now, you’d all better go and sit down, it’s nearly time to start.’
Eugenia stood rigidly by the door as the rest of us left. I wouldn’t have put it past her to try to pluck the offending items from the girls’ hair as they left, but I had a feeling that Mrs Accrington, friendly though she was, had methods for dealing with parents like her.
The school hall was jammed, but as soon as I came in, I saw Astrid leap up and wave frantically at me. I climbed over legs to get to my seat between her and Nick, saying a hurried hello to everyone as the lights went down. I felt Nick’s hand close over mine where it lay on my leg, setting off a turmoil of emotions that was almost unbearable. Taking a shaky breath, I forced myself to concentrate on the boy who had walked onto the stage dressed in jeans and a gold waistcoat and clutching a microphone.
‘Thankyouallforcomingthiseveningwelcomeandwehopeyouenjoytheshowhappychristmas,’ he gabbled before exiting abruptly. Everyone clapped uncertainly as the lights went down then very rapidly up again, revealing a girl in a blue dress kneeling in the middle of the stage. This was safer territory, and we sat back, ready for the familiar story to unfold. Sofia made an early appearance as a snowflake fluttering around the angel Gabriel as he announced Mary’s pregnancy. I was glad to see that both her smile and her hairclips were still firmly in place. The scenes followed their time-honoured pattern, and soon Mary and Joseph and the donkey – a bored-looking girl who kept pushing back her long, floppy ears until they fell off altogether – arrived in Bethlehem. The First Innkeeper had an extravagant eyeliner moustache that made him look like Dick Dastardly, and growled his way through his lines before sending Mary and Joseph on their way and slamming his cardboard door with as much threatening élan as he could muster, earninghimself a spontaneous round of applause. The Second Innkeeper was more laconic, opening her door, glancing the weary couple up and down and saying ‘Yeah?’ Upon enquiring about a room, Mary and Joseph were met with a look of disgust so withering that a pantomime ripple went around the audience. This energised the Second Innkeeper, who embarked upon an apparently unscripted soliloquy, which ranged in subject from the cost of living to the difficulty of getting hold of eggs that year in Bethlehem and ended with the advice that next time they wanted a room they should reserve one in advance on www.book-inn.com. By now the entire audience had perked up and was in stitches, all except Eugenia Tytherington-Smythe who was fuming and hissing loudly at Mrs Accrington to move things along before Camilla’s artistic preparations were derailed.
‘Oh, no,’ replied the teacher, who had joined in the laughter as much as anyone. ‘We do like to encourage spontaneity in our students, and this piece of improvisation is splendid.’
The Second Innkeeper was now cosily offering to see if she could make up a bed in the breakfast lounge (‘I’m sure my other guests won’t mind’), when she was brought back on track by Joseph, who had finally managed to stop giggling and suggested that they might need more privacy.
