‘No, and don’t say,where did you last have it?because that drives me crazy, if I knew where I last had it, I’d go to that place, pick it up and put it on, wouldn’t I?’
‘I guess you would. Sassy-pants.’
She needed to get a wiggle on, could not be late for her shift. Remy worked in the call centre of a large insurance company, a customer service representative in their initial claims department. She hated it. Hated everything about it, but it was a job, it was awage, and it was reliable. It also made up half of their household income and kept their heads above water, while allowing her to make small savings that would ensure after-school clubs, birthday presents, Christmas gifts, the odd takeaway, and a once-yearly purchase of fancy Uggs or similar, were all within reach. This job was no more than one of the necessary cogs that kept the wheels of their lovely life turning. Unlike Ashleigh or some of the corporate ladder climbers she worked with, her reward, her joy was to be found behind her front door. It had been this way since she’d had Sophie and had only been reinforced since she married Midge. It was enough, more than enough,morein fact than she’d ever hoped for!
She had never had a strong desire for material things, nor the ambition that seemed to drive her sister. The attack in her formative years and having a child when she was young had put things into perspective. She was happy to plod and leave the ball-breaking to people with more energy and inclination. People like Ashleigh. She liked forgetting about her job the moment she got into the car at the end of a long day.
Having gulped the last of her coffee, she shoved the small china mug in the sink, the one their six-year-old son, Bertie, had painted at a pottery café. On it, scrawled in a spider-like script, the wordsMummy is aCU. His clumsy hand and poor spatial awareness meant he had run out of space. She hadn’t known whether to laugh or cry as she’d unwrapped it last Mother’s Day. Midge had knownexactlywhat to do, and had to leave the room, lest he damage their young son’s artistic confidence. She had heard him snorting his laughter in the lounge.
‘Wowsers!’ she’d yelled. ‘That is ... that is marvellous! I shall use it every day for my morning cup of coffee.’ And she did.
Bertie had beamed.
‘I was going to put Mummy is a curly head, because of your hair, but I ran out of space.’
Phew!
‘Well, I love it, thank you, Bertie-bee.’
The hands on the kitchen clock seemed to be whizzing.
‘Right.’ She drew breath.
‘Oh God, here we go.’ Midge braced himself. ‘I can’t believe I’ve been out of the marines for ten years and I’m still getting orders barked at me daily by the domestic chief of staff!’
Remy ignored him, more concerned with making sure she didn’t miss any of the detail, knowing her thoughts wouldn’t settle until all of the information had been downloaded.
‘Packed lunches are on the side.’ She glanced towards the countertop, and there on the floor lay her missing Ugg, with a Barbie stuck in it, head first, her legs sticking up comically in the air. They both laughed. Having flung Barbie from her sheepskin nest, she shoved the boot on her foot without missing a beat. ‘Harper’s got cheerleading squad after school, so don’t forget her kit when you pick her up; there are snacks in her bag, so she can have something before supper. Bertie is going to Max’s for tea and pick-up is at six thirty. If you’re running late, Mum said she’ll go and get him. I’ve made a chicken casserole which you need to shove into the bottom oven, just before you leave to collect Harper, and I’ll do the spuds when I get in. Postman, not cosmic, just regular, is bringing me the Next catalogue. Check in case he leaves the box outside; he’s a bit of a moron. I think that’s everything.’ She drummed her fingers on the tabletop as her husband stared at her, his spoon midway between bowl and mouth, the milk-doused cereal now looking decidedly sodden. ‘Oh! Shoot! Yes, I know what it was, I said you’d help Dad fit the outside tap near the new patio, but if you can’t manage that today, tomorrow will do, or the weekend. Right, that really is everything.’ She swooped forward andplonked a kiss on his cheek. ‘Keys, bag, water, lip balm, banana.’ She ran through the mental checklist before making her way into the hallway, and yelling up the stairs, ‘Kids, I’m off! Dad’s picking up, and he knows all about your stuff and snacks, and Nanny will get you from Max’s, Bert, or maybe Daddy, but someone will! Have a great day and make good choices!’
‘Bye!’ Harper yelled from her room.
‘Mummy?’ Bertie called, in a measured way that paid no heed to her rising anxiety and the fact she was already cutting it fine.
‘Yes, my love?’ she replied, her tone curt.
‘I can’t find my, my ...’
‘No no no!’ Midge appeared in the hallway. ‘Let me guess.’ He put his hands on his hips, as they both stared at their six-year-old, who stood in his pants with hair still mussed from sleep.
‘Football kit?’
‘Nope.’ Bertie shook his head vigorously.
‘Homework?’
‘Nope.’ He sighed.
‘School shoes?’ She willed him to get to the point. ‘What have you lost, buddy?’ She did her best to speed things along.
‘I’ve lost Morty.’
‘Can I leave this with you?’ She wrinkled her nose at her husband.
‘Yep, hamster location services are a big part of what I do now, when I’m not a taxi driver for the kids, acting as your parents’ handyman, or getting involved in pom-pom club.’
‘It’s cheerleading squad!’ Harper corrected, her voice coming down the stairs.
‘I knew that,’ he replied.
