him.
‘So Richard is turning out to be even more of an UTTER ARSEHOLE than usual,’ declared Caroline, banging the door and whisking her tiny arse – in white jeans, in December – into the shop. She was wearing a huge furry stole thing that made her legs look even more sticklike, and that Issy fervently hoped was fake. Issy blinked herself out of her reverie and tried to wake up as Caroline shook off the cold. It was freezing outside; everything was iced over, and the clouds in the sky were heavy and dense with snow.
‘What’s hedone now?’ she said. Caroline’s divorce seemed to be taking rather longer than the marriage had lasted.
‘He said no hampers. No hampers. Can you believe it? He stopped our hamper account.’
Issy looked puzzled. ‘What do you mean? Those boxes with tins in?’
‘They are not just boxes with tins in!’ said Caroline in shock. ‘They are traditional luxury items sent at Christmas as a token of esteem, and are therefore part of my totally normal family expenditure.’
‘But don’t they cost a total fortune for like a can of jam and some fancy nuts?’ wondered Issy. ‘And they’re probably full of stuff you don’t even like, like olives stuffed with beetroot. I always wondered who sent those.’
Caroline sniffed. ‘Everyone does,’ she said.
‘So are the children looking forward to Christmas?’ Issy tried to change the subject.
Caroline sighed dramatically. ‘Oh well, you know what they’re like.’
‘Delightful,’ responded Issy, promptly.
‘Hermia is just looking forward to the opportunity to eat for the entire holiday. I will have to keep an eye on that girl. Can you believe it, she prefers eating a sandwich to practising her flute. A sandwich! I don’t even keep bread in the house!’
Issy made Caroline her small decaf espresso, black, and handed it over. Caroline downed it quickly.
‘Hit meagain,’ she said. ‘And can I have it caffed?’
Issy raised her eyebrows. ‘That bad?’
Caroline shrugged. ‘Well,’ she said. ‘Well …’ She blinked heavily several times. ‘It’s just … Richard said … Richard said …’ And she dissolved into tears.
‘What is it?’ said Issy, rushing round the other side of the counter.
‘He said …’
Issy suddenly felt terrified for her. He wouldn’t fight for the children, would he? OK, Caroline left them with nannies and ignored them and denigrated them, but … no, surely not.
‘He said that if he’s going to keep paying for them, he wants them sent to BOARDING SCHOOL …’
Caroline collapsed into sobs. Issy put her arm round her.
‘Oh no,’ she said. ‘But I thought you always said that boarding school was the answer to everything and would do all those rioters a lot of good?’
Caroline sniffed loudly and took out a cloth handkerchief. Issy was stunned that she carried a cloth handkerchief, but didn’t say anything.
‘Yes, but not for mmmyyyyyyy …’ She couldn’t finish the sentence.
It was odd, thought Issy. If you heard Caroline talk about them – although sometimes she seemed to forget she had children at all – you would think she wasn’t really that interested; that having children was something she’ddone simply because it was expected. She seemed to find them more of an annoyance than anything else.
‘They would miss me,’ said Caroline. ‘I think they would miss their mother, wouldn’t they? Achilles is only five.’
‘They would,’ said Issy, from bitter experience. ‘Of course they would. It’s ridiculous. He’s being completely unreasonable.’
‘I know!’ said Caroline, bawling. ‘What am I going to do?’
‘Hang on,’ said Issy, straightening up. ‘I’ve got an idea.’
Caroline glanced up at her, her tear-stained face almost unrecognisable.
‘What?’
‘Why don’t you just tell Richard to go screw himself? Say, sod off, Richard, they’re not going to boarding school. You can send them to the local school! Louis goes there, it’s
‘So Richard is turning out to be even more of an UTTER ARSEHOLE than usual,’ declared Caroline, banging the door and whisking her tiny arse – in white jeans, in December – into the shop. She was wearing a huge furry stole thing that made her legs look even more sticklike, and that Issy fervently hoped was fake. Issy blinked herself out of her reverie and tried to wake up as Caroline shook off the cold. It was freezing outside; everything was iced over, and the clouds in the sky were heavy and dense with snow.
‘What’s hedone now?’ she said. Caroline’s divorce seemed to be taking rather longer than the marriage had lasted.
‘He said no hampers. No hampers. Can you believe it? He stopped our hamper account.’
Issy looked puzzled. ‘What do you mean? Those boxes with tins in?’
‘They are not just boxes with tins in!’ said Caroline in shock. ‘They are traditional luxury items sent at Christmas as a token of esteem, and are therefore part of my totally normal family expenditure.’
‘But don’t they cost a total fortune for like a can of jam and some fancy nuts?’ wondered Issy. ‘And they’re probably full of stuff you don’t even like, like olives stuffed with beetroot. I always wondered who sent those.’
Caroline sniffed. ‘Everyone does,’ she said.
‘So are the children looking forward to Christmas?’ Issy tried to change the subject.
Caroline sighed dramatically. ‘Oh well, you know what they’re like.’
‘Delightful,’ responded Issy, promptly.
‘Hermia is just looking forward to the opportunity to eat for the entire holiday. I will have to keep an eye on that girl. Can you believe it, she prefers eating a sandwich to practising her flute. A sandwich! I don’t even keep bread in the house!’
Issy made Caroline her small decaf espresso, black, and handed it over. Caroline downed it quickly.
‘Hit meagain,’ she said. ‘And can I have it caffed?’
Issy raised her eyebrows. ‘That bad?’
Caroline shrugged. ‘Well,’ she said. ‘Well …’ She blinked heavily several times. ‘It’s just … Richard said … Richard said …’ And she dissolved into tears.
‘What is it?’ said Issy, rushing round the other side of the counter.
‘He said …’
Issy suddenly felt terrified for her. He wouldn’t fight for the children, would he? OK, Caroline left them with nannies and ignored them and denigrated them, but … no, surely not.
‘He said that if he’s going to keep paying for them, he wants them sent to BOARDING SCHOOL …’
Caroline collapsed into sobs. Issy put her arm round her.
‘Oh no,’ she said. ‘But I thought you always said that boarding school was the answer to everything and would do all those rioters a lot of good?’
Caroline sniffed loudly and took out a cloth handkerchief. Issy was stunned that she carried a cloth handkerchief, but didn’t say anything.
‘Yes, but not for mmmyyyyyyy …’ She couldn’t finish the sentence.
It was odd, thought Issy. If you heard Caroline talk about them – although sometimes she seemed to forget she had children at all – you would think she wasn’t really that interested; that having children was something she’ddone simply because it was expected. She seemed to find them more of an annoyance than anything else.
‘They would miss me,’ said Caroline. ‘I think they would miss their mother, wouldn’t they? Achilles is only five.’
‘They would,’ said Issy, from bitter experience. ‘Of course they would. It’s ridiculous. He’s being completely unreasonable.’
‘I know!’ said Caroline, bawling. ‘What am I going to do?’
‘Hang on,’ said Issy, straightening up. ‘I’ve got an idea.’
Caroline glanced up at her, her tear-stained face almost unrecognisable.
‘What?’
‘Why don’t you just tell Richard to go screw himself? Say, sod off, Richard, they’re not going to boarding school. You can send them to the local school! Louis goes there, it’s
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