bag, Logan?’
He shrugs. ‘Dunno. Maybe you’ve been fixing the washing machine or something?’
‘It’s neither of those things,’ I start. ‘It’s my special cleansing cloth.’
‘What?’ Logan mutters, eyes fixed on the screen.
‘For cleaning my face. Except now it appears to have poo on it.’
Fergus narrows his eyes and peers up at it. ‘Oh yeah.’
‘Yes, exactly, so could you tell me who did it?’
‘Not me,’ he says firmly.
Logan shakes his head. ‘Nah.’
‘The thing is,’ I say, knowing it’s the wrong time to get into this, but unable to stop myself, ‘it’s just not fair, boys, using my things without asking …’
‘So if I’d
asked
if I could wipe my bum on your cloth, that would’ve been okay?’ Logan chortles.
‘Oh, so it was you!’
‘No! No, I just mean … hypothetically.’ On TV, the baby rhino is making an endearing squeaking noise.
‘Can’t you just get another one?’ Fergus asks.
‘It’s not as simple as that.’
‘Why not?’
‘Because it came with the …’ I tail off as David Attenborough explains, in his lovely mellow voice, that the baby rhino is blind and desperately needs a cataract operation. And here I am, banging on about a sodding scrap of muslin …
‘What, Mum?’ Fergus asks distractedly, eyes glued to the screen.
The doorbell buzzes. ‘Nothing, love.’ I swallow hard, blinking rapidly in the hope that that’ll clear my vision, which is fuzzing rapidly as my eyes fill with tears.
Fergus turns to me with a solemn gaze. ‘You’ve upset, Mum,’ he snaps at Logan.
‘No I haven’t. What have I done? I’m just sitting here, watching TV!’
‘
Hypothetically
,’ Fergus mocks him as the doorbell buzzes again.
‘That’ll be Dad at the door,’ Logan offers. Without further discussion, and dabbing my eyes on my sleeve, I leave the room, furious with myself at getting upset over a stupid cloth at the precise moment when my carrot-cultivating ex is standing on the pavement outside. Phone, front door – it’s my duty to answer these, like a butler. Sometimes I think I should wear white gloves and carry a little silver tray. Not right now, though, as here comes Tom, all smiles and lush, wavy dark hair, still looking irritatingly youthful as if preserved in aspic; followed by Patsy, tastefully highlighted with apparently no make-up at all, and smelling fresh, like a spring meadow. There are hugs all round, and Jessica, who’s just turned four, very sweetly plants a kiss on my cheek.
‘What’s that?’ she asks. I realise I’m still clutching Exhibit A.
‘Oh, just a bit of dirty material, love.’
She fixes me with wide blue eyes. ‘Why’s it in a bag?’
‘Um, I was just about to put it in the bin. Anyway, come on through to the kitchen, there’s a fresh batch of meringues waiting for you. I’ll just put the kettle on … Boys, are you pretty much ready to go?’ There’s nodding and mumbling as they drift off to fetch their rucksacks.
‘You look great, Alice,’ Patsy says, while Tom grabs a meringue from the towering stack on the table.
‘Thanks,’ I say, ‘so do you. So, how are things? How’s the business going?’ As she fills me in on Dandelion’s latest triumphs, Logan reappears, grabbing and tickling Jessica, making her squeal with delight. It warms my heart to see him making a fuss over his adorable little sister.
‘We’re lucky,’ Patsy tells me, sipping the mint tea she requested. ‘We’ve had lots of great publicity and Tom’s brilliant on the creative side. Things are going better than we could have expected …’
‘I saw you in
Stylish Living
,’ I say with a grin.
‘Oh, that,’ Tom blusters, cheeks flushing instantly.
‘It was through a friend of a friend,’ Patsy adds. ‘Just a great plug for the company. We’d never have done it otherwise …’
And how
is
the purple sprouting broccoli?
I want to ask Tom, but manage to restrain myself.
‘Well, I think you’ve done it
He shrugs. ‘Dunno. Maybe you’ve been fixing the washing machine or something?’
‘It’s neither of those things,’ I start. ‘It’s my special cleansing cloth.’
‘What?’ Logan mutters, eyes fixed on the screen.
‘For cleaning my face. Except now it appears to have poo on it.’
Fergus narrows his eyes and peers up at it. ‘Oh yeah.’
‘Yes, exactly, so could you tell me who did it?’
‘Not me,’ he says firmly.
Logan shakes his head. ‘Nah.’
‘The thing is,’ I say, knowing it’s the wrong time to get into this, but unable to stop myself, ‘it’s just not fair, boys, using my things without asking …’
‘So if I’d
asked
if I could wipe my bum on your cloth, that would’ve been okay?’ Logan chortles.
‘Oh, so it was you!’
‘No! No, I just mean … hypothetically.’ On TV, the baby rhino is making an endearing squeaking noise.
‘Can’t you just get another one?’ Fergus asks.
‘It’s not as simple as that.’
‘Why not?’
‘Because it came with the …’ I tail off as David Attenborough explains, in his lovely mellow voice, that the baby rhino is blind and desperately needs a cataract operation. And here I am, banging on about a sodding scrap of muslin …
‘What, Mum?’ Fergus asks distractedly, eyes glued to the screen.
The doorbell buzzes. ‘Nothing, love.’ I swallow hard, blinking rapidly in the hope that that’ll clear my vision, which is fuzzing rapidly as my eyes fill with tears.
Fergus turns to me with a solemn gaze. ‘You’ve upset, Mum,’ he snaps at Logan.
‘No I haven’t. What have I done? I’m just sitting here, watching TV!’
‘
Hypothetically
,’ Fergus mocks him as the doorbell buzzes again.
‘That’ll be Dad at the door,’ Logan offers. Without further discussion, and dabbing my eyes on my sleeve, I leave the room, furious with myself at getting upset over a stupid cloth at the precise moment when my carrot-cultivating ex is standing on the pavement outside. Phone, front door – it’s my duty to answer these, like a butler. Sometimes I think I should wear white gloves and carry a little silver tray. Not right now, though, as here comes Tom, all smiles and lush, wavy dark hair, still looking irritatingly youthful as if preserved in aspic; followed by Patsy, tastefully highlighted with apparently no make-up at all, and smelling fresh, like a spring meadow. There are hugs all round, and Jessica, who’s just turned four, very sweetly plants a kiss on my cheek.
‘What’s that?’ she asks. I realise I’m still clutching Exhibit A.
‘Oh, just a bit of dirty material, love.’
She fixes me with wide blue eyes. ‘Why’s it in a bag?’
‘Um, I was just about to put it in the bin. Anyway, come on through to the kitchen, there’s a fresh batch of meringues waiting for you. I’ll just put the kettle on … Boys, are you pretty much ready to go?’ There’s nodding and mumbling as they drift off to fetch their rucksacks.
‘You look great, Alice,’ Patsy says, while Tom grabs a meringue from the towering stack on the table.
‘Thanks,’ I say, ‘so do you. So, how are things? How’s the business going?’ As she fills me in on Dandelion’s latest triumphs, Logan reappears, grabbing and tickling Jessica, making her squeal with delight. It warms my heart to see him making a fuss over his adorable little sister.
‘We’re lucky,’ Patsy tells me, sipping the mint tea she requested. ‘We’ve had lots of great publicity and Tom’s brilliant on the creative side. Things are going better than we could have expected …’
‘I saw you in
Stylish Living
,’ I say with a grin.
‘Oh, that,’ Tom blusters, cheeks flushing instantly.
‘It was through a friend of a friend,’ Patsy adds. ‘Just a great plug for the company. We’d never have done it otherwise …’
And how
is
the purple sprouting broccoli?
I want to ask Tom, but manage to restrain myself.
‘Well, I think you’ve done it