Last Christmas. Julia Williams
to round up his children.
‘Noel,’ said Regina warmly, letting him in, ‘do you fancy a drink? The kids are all fed, and Ali’s just come home.’
‘Regina, you are an angel sent from heaven, thank you so much,’ said Noel. ‘It’s been a hell of a week.’
He poked his head into Regina’s playroom where two of his offspring were sharing a sofa with Regina’s two youngest, watching MI High.
‘James?’ he asked.
‘With Joel on the Wii,’ said Regina.
Satisfied that everyone was quite happy he made his way down to the basement kitchen, which was a mirror image of his own and Cat’s, and sat down with his neighbours, reflecting how lucky he and Cat were to have such good mates on their doorstep. Life with four children and a working wife would be impossible otherwise.
‘Thanks for this, you two,’ he said, as he sipped his beer. ‘And sorry to dump on you. Again. I don’t know what we pay Magda for. It’s certainly not to look after the kids. She’s more of a liability than all of ours put together.’
‘No problem,’ said Regina. ‘Cat’s helped me out more times than I care to mention. It’s what friends are for.’
Noel stayed for one more beer, before regretfully deciding he’d better get his charges home. It took him half an hour to round everyone up, and Ruby was only persuaded to go if he promised piggyback rides, but eventually they were through their own front door. Noel made a unilateral decision to dispense with baths that night, and packed the little ones off to bed while he went to prepare something for Cat, Magda and himself to eat.
Top Gear was over by the time he’d finished cooking and cleaning up the mess Magda had left behind. He felt a smidgeon of guilt at the thought that she might actually have hurt herself, but quickly put it away. Magda had cried wolf on so many occasions, he doubted very much that it would turn out to be more than a scratch. He chased James up to bed and turned over to Have I Got News For You. There was still no word from Cat. How long did it take to stitch up a finger?
He rang Cat’s mobile again but got no reply. In the end, he ate alone in front of the news. He had just dozed off when the phone rang.
‘Sorry, I only just got your message,’said Cat. ‘We’ve been stuck in A&E forever and Magda was so hysterical I couldn’t leave. But she’s being bandaged now, so I hope we won’t be too much longer.’
‘Oh, okay,’ said Noel, feeling somewhat disappointed. ‘Your dinner’s in the oven.’
‘Thanks. I’m really sorry about this.’
‘It’s not your fault,’ said Noel. ‘Bloody Magda.’
‘Very bloody at the moment as it happens,’ said Cat. ‘I’ve never seen so much, in fact.’
‘That’s not fair. Now I feel guilty,’ said Noel. ‘Is she going to be okay?’
‘Don’t,’ said Cat. ‘She’s going to be fine. I, on the other hand, am going completely bonkers. I’ll try not to be too much longer.’
‘I’ll try to stay up without falling asleep,’ said Noel. A depressing feature of his mid forties was his uncanny ability to nod off on the sofa. He barely ever saw the end of films anymore.
‘If I’m not back in half an hour, go to bed,’ said Cat.
‘I’ll keep it warm for you,’ he replied.
‘You’d better,’ she laughed, and the phone went dead.
Noel breathed a heavy sigh. All thoughts of a cosy evening were gone forever. It was nearly eleven, he may as well go to bed right now, otherwise he definitely would be asleep on the sofa by the time she got in.
Cat went back inside the brightly lit A&E department and sat down on the incredibly hard chair she had spent most of the evening on. Did the person in the NHS responsible for chairs have a particularly sadistic streak, she wondered? Every chair she had ever sat on, in every hospital she’d ever been in, had been incredibly uncomfortable, and usually she’d had to sit on it for hours. She glanced at her watch. It was gone ten thirty. What a waste of a bloody evening. She’d been planning to spend it cuddled up with Noel on the sofa, conscious she’d spent far too many evenings glued to the computer of late.
Trust Magda to manage to slice her finger to the bone. Cat hadn’t realised any of her knives were sharp enough. If it had been anyone else, anyone at all, Cat would have felt sorry for her, but Magda’s litany of woes and trauma had left her all empathised out, and, while she had felt duty-bound to sit her down and wrap up the finger after Magda had come round from fainting at the sight of her own blood, Cat had taken her to the hospital while gritting her teeth. It was the only decent thing to do, but for once Cat wished she didn’t always feel obliged to do the decent thing and had the audacity to tell Magda to either get useless Sergei to take her in his shiny motor, or send her off in a taxi. In the end, Magda’s look of woe, and the sudden flash-forward she’d had to Mel in a few years time, hurt and alone in a foreign country, had been enough to make her rearrange her life at lightning speed. Sometimes having a conscience was a damned inconvenience.
Twenty minutes later Magda emerged, her finger bandaged thickly, her arm in a sling, milking the moment for all it was worth by flirting outrageously with the house officer who’d been unfortunate enough to be assigned to her. He looked so completely overwhelmed, Cat immediately felt sorry for him. Magda was a force to be reckoned with.
‘Doctor says I must not work for week,’ announced Magda. ‘Very bad for finger. Cleaning. Ironing. I must not do.’
‘I bet he does,’ murmured Cat, thinking frantically ahead to the next week. How many meetings did she have? And could she cancel any of them? She had a feeling Magda’s poorly finger was going to prevent her from doing anything remotely like the job Cat had been paying her to do for the last six months. She wished she had the nerve to sack Magda, but trying to find a replacement at short notice was going to be nigh on impossible. Cat was having enough trouble juggling all the demands on her with the cookery book she was working on, as well as the blog and the regular column. She simply couldn’t afford to lose Magda—even a useless au pair was better than no au pair. She’d just have to bite her lip and put up with it.
Cat drove silently through the drably dark inner-London streets, not having the energy to strike up a conversation. Even at this late hour it was hideously busy. Cat screamed to a halt behind a night bus disgorging revellers who’d obviously been living it up in town, reminding her of how her life used to be when she wasn’t weighed down with the cares of the world. How she envied those young men and women spilling out onto the streets, living their carefree lives of partying and a kebab before bedtime.
Once that had been the way her weekend was too. Once a lifetime ago. Now it was reduced to trips to Casualty with useless au pairs and returning to find the house in darkness. Magda declined the offer of the food Noel had prepared for them and disappeared to her room to hold excitable conversations in Latvian.
Cat sighed. She didn’t feel all that hungry now. She put Noel’s cold offerings in the fridge, and made her way upstairs. Deep snoring from her bedroom indicated that Noel was already in the land of nod. They had so little time together. And now they’d lost another precious evening. Sometimes Cat worried they would end up having nothing to say to each other by the time the children eventually left home.
She went into the children’s rooms, picking up toys, smoothing over duvets and, in Ruby’s case, planting a kiss on her cheek. Paige and James both thought they were too big for kisses, and, though once or twice she’d stealthily managed to sneak kisses on them when they were asleep, James had a tendency to roll over and shout ‘Gerroff!’ and Paige had been known to sit up in a semi-wakeful state and balefully declare, ‘You do not kiss me, ever!’ before falling back to sleep again. Cat stood and looked at them and allowed a blissful contentment to steal over her. Despite the stresses of her day, the sight of her children asleep could