‘Oh, they never tell us anything. Pippa, why did you not tell me about young Mr Choudhury being the new teacher, huh? All these weeks and you haven’t said a word!’ Jan joined in with Mrs Choudhury’s complaint.
Because you would have piled bags of unnecessary pressure on me and I rather like keeping my crush as it is at the moment without you smothering it to death with over-enthusiasm and frigging heart biscuits, thought Pippa.
‘Mmm, didn’t I?’ is what she said.
‘He’s very handsome,’ Jan said.
‘Yes, I think so,’ Kam’s mum agreed, nodding at Jan in approval. ‘And your daughter is very beautiful. She has a classic style, an elegance.’ It looked like a friendship was being forged whilst Kam’s sisters just shook their head at their mum whilst nudging, pinching and making silly faces at Kam who, with a quick wink at his three siblings, changed the conversation quickly.
‘Let’s get these tables set up then, shall we? How many do you need for the cake stall, Mrs Parkin, is two enough?’
‘Oh, I normally have three. Penmenna prides itself on its cakes.’
‘It’s important, isn’t it? Binds a family in love, a little bit of baking,’ Kam’s mum nodded her agreement as she spoke.
‘And tooth decay.’
‘Abuja!’
‘Here you are then, three…’ Kam dragged one table after another and another. Jan’s eyes developed a gleam: she did like a man who was happy to do physical work. ‘…tables just for cakes and I was thinking… oh, do we need to check with Marion? Should we put my sisters next to the cake stall, and then, Mum, you can keep an eye on them and stop them damaging whatever professional reputation I have?’
‘Yes, yes, that sounds like a very sensible idea. Put them next to us, so I can keep an eye on Anuja and make sure she doesn’t embarrass you.’
‘Embarrass him? That’s a bit harsh, isn’t it?’ Kam’s younger sister objected.
‘I’m a woman who likes to prepare for every eventuality, and Anuja, with you that is very wise. Now help your brother with that table over there and you can set up next to us. That’s okay isn’t it, Mrs Parkin?’
‘Jan. And of course it is, Mrs Choudhury.’
‘Excellent, we’re going to be great friends, so you must call me Geeta. Where are you going to be, Kam?’
‘Ah, Miss Parkin and I…’ Pippa watched as Kam didn’t quite make eye contact with any member of his family. ‘…Miss Parkin and I are out on the field, up the back with the horses.’
‘Up the back with the horses? What does that mean?’
‘Is that some kind of euphemism?’ his youngest sister asked.
‘Anuja!’ Both Kam and his mum were in unison on that one. Pippa heard the laugh burst from her lips; she liked Anuja.
‘It is not. Can I remind you this is my workplace?’
‘Uhuh and Miss Parkin is your colleague,’ Hema noted, faux sincerity at the fore, making it quite clear that, along with her sister, she suspected there was more.
‘Yes, she is and you’re never coming back again if you can’t behave.’
‘I haven’t done anything. Mum, what haveIdone? Tell him!’
‘Space hoppers, what do we need to do with them?’ Pippa jumped in before World War Three broke out between Kam and his sisters in the school hall. She was aware that he wanted Sarah Fielding’s job next term and she wanted him to have it as well – which was not going to happen if he and his sisters had a throwdown fight in the middle of the May Fayre, surrounded by the PTA and other Penmenna school well-wishers.
‘Blow them up, sit on them and bounce to the finish line?’ Kam responded, at which point Hema burst out laughing until her mother leant over and pinched her just under the arm.
‘I’ve got that bit. That’s the easy bit,’ Pippa said, deliberately not making eye contact with any of the sisters. ‘But shouldn’t we go set them up? We need to pick a good space or else our racetrack could become an obstacle course with the odd gift from Davinia’s ponies in each lane.’
‘Yeah, good point. Right, Mum, are you okay if I leave you here with Mrs Parkin to sort out the cakes?’
‘Jan,’ Pippa’s mother simpered.
‘Jan.’ Kam bestowed on of his smiles on her, the one that lit up his deep brown eyes and radiated charm out like a heat-seeking missile. Although of course that was only an opinion, and quite possibly no one’s but hers.
