Half the World Away - страница 7

Don’t use water to brush your teeth. Duh, right? You need to use bottled water for that too. This was my downfall. The habit of turning on the tap is so deeply ingrained that after making this mistake, following a suitable period of illness and recuperation, I found the safest thing to do is brush my teeth far from any sinks. It can get messy but not half so messy as the results of breaking the rule. I won’t dwell too much on that except to say it was like a cross between the movies The Lost Weekend and Cabin Fever interspersed with outtakes from the UK show Embarrassing Bodies (does what it says on the tin), that I lost eight pounds, four days of my life and that I LEARNED MY LESSON. Lxxx

PS Some people will tell you the water is fine. They lie.

PPS Mum, don’t worry, I’m fine. Just a lot thinner than you remember. #Notdeadyet.

Autumn is the busiest term in school – new admissions, appeals over school places as well as all the celebrations – harvest festival, Diwali, Hallowe’en, the Christmas fair and then the Christmas show. The tradition in our school is to involve all the junior children in the performance so it is usually an all-singing all-dancing version of the Nativity story. The infants learn the songs so, although they’re in the audience, they can sing along.

It is early December and most of the children have gone home. I’m printing out song sheets, just two waifs and strays with me: James Porringer, whose mother relies on the bus to get here and is often late when the service is delayed, and Courtney Collier, who can’t remember who is picking her up today, Dad, Mum or Nana. I suspect one of them has forgotten too. Courtney has gone very quiet, and looks close to tears, so I ask her and James to count out some song sheets into piles of thirty.

I like the feel of the place outside hours: it’s not spooky, like some old buildings can be, but has a warm, slightly worn, homely feel to it. As though it’s soaked up the affection and energy of all the generations of children it has seen come and go.

I’m sending another batch to the printer when my phone beeps: email. It’s from Lori.

From:

loreleimx@gmail.com

Date:

6 December 2013 23:08

To:

joannamaddox70@hotmail.com; NickMyers@firenet.co.uk; tombolmaddox@aol.com

Subject:

New Plans

Hi, I’ve had an awesome offer to go to China with Dawn. She’s really nice and she’s been once before so she can show me the ropes. The plan is to go on to Hong Kong from here, have Xmas and New Year there and get our visas then get to Chengdu sometime in January (it’s near where they have the pandas). It’s a really big city, but supposed to be laid-back compared to Beijing. We’ll have a month there. It means I won’t get back until Feb so tell Finn and Isaac I will bring them special late presents then.

I’m a bit low on money so Dad is there any way you can send me some via Western Union? I need to buy plane tickets soon. We’ve found some for £700 – Dawn says that’s cheap because it’s three flights altogether (includes my return from China). Tomorrow would be good. Thanks soooo much!!!

Suze had to go back to Oz her dad is very ill so she can’t go with Dawn as they planned. Dawn did journalism at home and she’s hoping to make documentaries in the longer term. I told her she should do some pieces for my blog.

Lxxx

I feel a clutch of disappointment that Lori won’t be here for Christmas, that it’ll be another month after that. And then a flare of irritation: everything was arranged, agreed – why couldn’t she just stick to that? Impulsive. The words ‘like her father’ hover in my mind. Maybe Tom won’t send her the money. As soon as I think it, I feel ashamed. If Tom can’t or won’t then we’ll find it, increase our overdraft if need be.

There’s the noise of someone arriving: James’s mum, red-faced and breathless. ‘Sorry,’ she calls to me.

‘Don’t worry,’ I say. ‘He’s been helping me.’

James goes pink and his mum smiles, kisses his head and bundles him off.

Then the office phone rings and it’s Courtney’s grandmother full of apologies and promising to be there in five minutes.