It's Not Fair! Chapter 4

Charlie had been read to and chatted to in French by her grandmère since she was tiny. For her, French homework was a breeze! But in Matthew’s previous school they’d started with German, and added French a year later: he was struggling to catch up. So French homework nights he either came round to Charlie’s, or they both went to her grandparents’ house. His expressive groans as he fought his way through it always amused Charlie! Matthew’s groans could be heard faintly in the next room, punctuating Jonquil’s phone conversation. David was amused by the groans, but not so happy about what else he could hear.
“Yes, mother. Yes, tomorrow’s fine. Oh, that’s so kind of you. Yes, both girls are in that evening.”
David could hear the wariness in Jonquil’s voice, and wondered what the call was about. He put down his book as she finished off the call. “What’s wrong?”
Jonquil nestled thankfully into his arms. “It’s mother. She’s made the girls’ party dresses. She’s coming round tomorrow so that they can try them on. And I know Charlie’s will be awful.”
“Well, if it is, I’m not asking her to wear it.”
“But mother will be so upset.”
“And so will Charlie. She’s got some lovely new clothes she wants to wear to Maman and Papa’s party: she’s going to. And your mother can just lump it.”
He felt the tremor that ran through Jonquil and held her closer yet. “Jonnie, we have to stand up for our children.” How many times had they gone through this? David wondered. A smug looking Cynthia parading her handiwork, and Daisy looking very nice indeed. He was going to have to employ a little cunning, to underline the difference between the dresses.
“That looks really nice on you, Daisy.” It did. “What made you choose that fabric and that pattern?”
“Oh Dad, jungle prints are like, trending right now. The skirt’s party length, not a mini, which would be too casual, but it’s not like, mega-formal longsville either. And the simple lines and clean cut are really today. Frills and fuss are like, so last Tuesday. And if you’re going for a big dramatic print, you have to have clean, simple lines, or the print loses its impact.”
David had to hand it to her, she knew her stuff. Charlie’s dress was a nightmare. And Charlie was looking at her grandmother with a strange glint in her eye. Jonquil was suddenly nervous. She’d always relied on Charlie’s easy-going nature, asked her in effect to put up with the dreadful party dresses so as not to upset her grandmother. It looked as though the worm was going to turn, and she quaked for the consequences. Cynthia was waiting for the comments, the thank-yous, just as she always did. David broke in quickly. “Well, I can tell you’ve spent a great deal of time on that dress. And a great deal of thought has obviously gone into creating just that effect as well. I’ll have to get Daisy to explain it all to me in detail later. I’m sure the dress will be just right for certain occasions. Go and get changed, both of you now, and then it’s bed time: it’s nearly the end of term and you’re both very tired. Cynthia, would you like a cup of tea?” The pond had finally frozen hard, and there was skating on it. Charlie was testing out unused-since-last-winter muscles – and Matthew was discovering that this was harder than it looked! “So tell me about The Dress,” he called. “It was dreadful! I showed it to Hanako later, and she went pale at the sight of it. Ask her when you see her.” They hadn’t bothered inviting Hanako out with them – skating was a total no-no.
“You’re not going to have to wear it are you?” Matthew asked, wobbling carefully round a corner.
“Hanako said she’d kill me if I did. Slowly. But Dad said there was no way I had to. And I wouldn’t have done anyway.” “This is harder than it looks!”
“I bet riding is too. Here, take my hands, and try this.”
“I could teach you to ride if you like? In the spring?”
“Really? I’d like to try that. But I don’t think we can afford lessons.”
“It’d be a gift. Dad and Bryony are really grateful to you and your family, you know, for helping me to settle in here.”
Charlie grinned with pleasure, shrugged off her grandmother’s whims and fancies, and began to tell Matthew how to skate a bit better. Jonathan took a quick look at the dining room as he came in from the garage in search of a coffee. It looked really festive, he thought, and went to tell Lorraine so. He sipped his coffee gratefully.
“You know, it’s getting a bit too cold out there now, even with the heater on. The house looks great – you’ve done a fantastic job of decorating it.” He smiled at her with his eyes, over the rim of his mug. “You always do.” Lorraine smiled back at him.
“Thank you. If this is to be our last time of doing this, I wanted to do it in style.”
Jonathan sighed. “It’s so hard to decide. There have been Saxteads living in this house for so long…”
“But not as long as there have been Waterfolds in Rattlesden House,” she teased him. Rattlesden House was up the road from them; the first house that had been built on this side of the town.
“There’s allus been Waterfolds at Rattlesden House,” Jonathan said, laughing. “But they have such a big family…” They’d wanted a big family too. But after David’s birth, Lorraine had been told that there would be no more children. It was in learning to cope with that grief that she’d begun to write and illustrate the children’s books that had made her quietly well-known. “We don’t have to decide whether to sell up or not just yet. We’ve got a bit longer to think about it. Neither of us are getting elderly and infirm yet! Let’s enjoy this Christmas, this here and now.”
They’d both learnt how to do that, how to focus on the present joy, the gift of the present moment. And Lorraine’s own mother had taught her a lot about that too. “And why isn’t Lottie wearing the dress I made for her?” Cynthia’s tone was icy, and Jonquil winced at the force of her displeasure. Jonathan came to her rescue.
“Because she’s wearing the clothes we gave to her. Daisy’s wearing your gift, Charlie’s wearing ours. That seems fair enough, doesn’t it?”
His tone was light and warm, but there was something going on underneath it, something Jonquil didn’t understand. Charlie looked so nice. Why did her mother have to spoil things? Jonquil pressed her hand to her head. David came over as well, reading the signs all too clearly, and he and his father formed a hedge round Cynthia, protecting Jonquil from any further comments.
Across the room Lorraine, slim and elegant in a dress that really became her, watched what was going on, noting Jonquil’s distress and resenting Cynthia’s behaviour. She quietly steered Jonquil away towards the food and the two of them sat peacefully in the far corner of the dining room. Presently, Jonquil was talking freely about the frustrations of her life, unburdening herself and feeling a lot better for it!
“And so I had to go and look for it myself! There it was, on the bookcase, and all Daisy said was ‘Oh I didn’t see it.’ If I had a pound for every time I’ve heard her say that, I’d be a rich woman by now…” Around them, the noise and the chatter of the party ebbed and flowed. In the other room, Daisy was busy telling Chloe how jungle prints were the in thing for winter parties.
“It’s like, the contrast, see? The winter snow, but you’re wearing bright bold prints as a like, statement of defiance.” Matthew and Jonathan had been swapping terrible jokes (“What do monks and nuns eat for breakfast? Eggs Benedict!”) and now Matthew had Jonathan on to local history – with a few diversions on the way.
“Oh, and Charlie pointed out a big house on a hill, where a woman lives all alone with her cats.” He’d been about to say ‘old woman’ and then remembered that Charlie had said she’d been at school with Jonathan. That might not have been too tactful!
“Griselda Tostead. Yes. I don’t know what happened there. Suddenly, she turned herself into a recluse. I suppose Alice Barden might know why – she lives on the farm near your skating pond – they were best friends at school.”
“Up where all those little abandoned houses are in the woods? Charlie said to ask you about those…” “It’s time we left – the horses don’t look after themselves. But thank you for a lovely evening – and for all your family’s done to help Matthew settle in here.”
“It’s been a pleasure, Donald. He’s a nice lad – my parents have really taken to him.”
“He’s not had an easy time of it.” That was typical of Donald, David thought, making light of his own hard road.
“But I think now things are finally looking up.”
And for you as well, I hope, David said in the privacy of his own mind. After everyone had left, Charlie ended up playing the piano for an impromptu carol concert. Half the singers were shamelessly hugging each other!
“Next year, you’re bringing your vile din as well, Hanako.” Charlie said. “And Matthew can bring his drums too.”
“Now that will be quite some musical combination,” David said – and didn’t mention the fact that next year there might not be another party. Matthew made good on his offer of riding lessons, and Charlie began to spend time up at the old Eleigh farmhouse. She’d go there after school (usually on French homework nights!) and once the homework was done, she’d change into the riding gear Bryony had found for her and begin to learn to ride. And muck out, and groom the steady little cob Matthew had found for her to learn on…Bryony had said she didn’t have to, but Charlie wanted to know all the ins and outs of it. “How’s it going, Charlie?” Bryony asked, coming in for the meal Donald had just finished preparing.
“Wonderful! I think he’s finally worked out what a preceding direct object does.”
Matthew grunted and Bryony laughed. “Actually, I meant the riding.” “How’s Pumpkin shaping?” Matthew’s main role was schooling the horses (and he was definitely considered cool at school for being able to ride!)
“Nicely now. Changing the bit’s done the trick. He’ll be fine for your beginner jumping class to learn on. Give me another week with him, though.”
Charlie liked listening to the horse talk, even if she didn’t understand it all. And Matthew reflected that Charlie’s grandpère had been right: common interests were a good place to start. They were in Matthew’s room, listening to the latest greenstone album, Semi-precious, before Donald drove Charlie home.
“You seem to be getting along okay with Bryony,” Charlie said tentatively.
Matthew grinned at her. “She’s all right. I mean, actually, I really like her. I did even before she and Dad were an item. It’s just all a big change. It takes getting used to, like your Grandpère said.” Charlie fell silent, satisfied that he was okay – and because Matthew knew she wouldn’t pry, he opened up a bit more.
“She’s nothing like my mother. Not personality, and certainly not looks! Mum was drop-dead glamorous, and Bryony’s – well, just Bryony. But she’s kind. And – well, she really understands the horses. She works at it, putting herself in their shoes.”
They both had a mental picture of Bryony putting herself in horse-shoes and giggled.
“And she does it with people too. That’s why she’s so good at teaching people to ride. She works out how they’re feeling about it. And she makes Dad really happy, makes him feel good about himself again.” “Upstairs,” Charlie said. “That’s where we need to be.” She’d been coming to this library with her grandparents since she was tiny: she knew where everything was.
“Follow me!”
“Yes, Captain,” Hanako said smartly. As the three of them reached the upper floor, Matthew suddenly came to a dead stop, grabbed Charlie’s hand and just as quickly let it go. Charlie and Hanako both turned to look at him. They’d never seen him looking so grim. But why? Hanako looked round the room for clues – but no-one was paying the three of them any attention at all beyond a cursory glance as they’d entered. They followed Matthew back into the dimly lit lobby.
“That blonde?” Matthew asked. “You saw her?”
They nodded.
“That was my mother.”
“But she didn’t even recognise you,” Hanako said.

It's Not Fair! Chapter 3

It was October half term: the leaves were falling, the air had a nip in it, Matthew had managed half a term at his new school quite successfully – and although Charlie didn’t know it, today was the day Hanako and Matthew were making their move on her. Charlie thought they were just showing Matthew round the original village and the Saturday market… “So who lives in that gloomy house on top of that hill over there?”
Matthew was keeping Charlie talking while Hanako double-checked something.
“Oh. Griselda Tostead. She was at school with Grandpère, so she’s pretty oldish. Fabulously wealthy, and lives there all alone with a bunch of cats. I used to be scared of her when I was little – I thought she was a witch.”
Hanako came back towards them. “Right,” Hanako said to Charlie. “You know I said your birthday present would be late this year?”
“You and loads of others too! Mostly I just had cards on the day.”
Hanako smiled secretly to herself. “Well, you’re just about to get mine. Tania’s cutting here today and she’s brilliant. You are about to get a proper haircut, wash, condition – the works. And she’s going to show you how to style it properly. I’ve talked to her – she knows what to do with you.”
Charlie just gaped at Hanako.
“Go on – off you go, up those stairs. Matthew and I will meet you afterwards.” And that was it. No more arguments. Charlie went in and headed upstairs with some trepidation. Hanako and Matthew sat down for a game of chess while they waited.
“Does she know what’s coming next?”
“No,” Hanako said happily. “But I’ve been wanting to do this forever. Thanks for your support!” They were on to their second game when a slightly stunned-looking Charlie reappeared. “That looks so much better,” Hanako said.
“Yes – but you still look like you,” Matthew added.
“Okay,” Hanako said, abandoning the game. “Time for stage two.” “Now this,” Hanako said, leading the way in, “is one of my most favourite shops ever.”
“Clothes!” Charlie said. “Oh no. You’re not getting me trying clothes on.” Charlie was jibbing like a nervous horse. Matthew could almost see her ears go back and her eyes start rolling. Without thinking, he put on his soothing voice. “Come on Charlie, what are you afraid of?”
“I’ll tell you,” Hanako said. “For Charlie, trying clothes on means being made to look awful, to look a fool, to be run down and compared unfavourably with Daisy. I’ve been there and seen it happen. Only the thought of what my parents would say to me if I was rude to someone so much older stopped me from being - shall we say - quite forthright.”
Charlie didn’t deny any of it.
“This time, Charlie, it’s going to be different. We’re going to find out what you like and what suits you.” “No. Not that. High-waisted trousers aren’t you. And I don’t think those are your colours either.”
And Hanako was back into hunting through the eclectic range of garments that were on sale. “Now that style suits you better.”
“Yes, but – Hanako, I’m not really the short skirt type. Okay, I could put leggings with it, but…” “Now this I do like.”
“Yes, you’re right. It suits your personality too. Matthew, come and tell us what you think.”
“But I’m a bloke!” “Yeah, that one’s good too, if you’re going to dress up,” Matthew said, resigned and slightly amused by his role as fashion consultant. “Hey, your grandpère told me a joke.”
“Oh no. Go on.”
“What do psychiatrists eat for breakfast?”
“I don’t know. Tell me.”
“Freud eggs.”
Both girls groaned. “Now that’s the sort of thing Grandma H would want me to wear,” Charlie thought, looking at the pink flowered dress next to the mirror. “But Hanako and Matthew are right. These are the clothes that look good on me. I wonder how long it would take me to save up for them?” “What do you mean, I can have them all?”
“They’re your belated birthday present form your grandmère and grandpère,” Hanako said smugly. “Matthew went and told them what we were planning. They thought it was a great idea.”
Charlie was lost for words. She knew Matthew got on well with Grandpère – had even been helping with the car – but this was amazing. “So, tell me all about it,” Jonathan said, as Matthew straightened himself up. “Was the expedition a success?”
“Hasn’t Charlie thanked you?” Matthew was surprised.
“Of course. But I want an eye-witness account. Although wait – Lorraine will want to hear it too. Tell us both together when we go inside for coffee. How are you doing?”
Matthew appreciated talking to Jonathan, here in the oily-smelling garage whilst they worked on restoring the car. He, his father and Bryony were all still being polite and cautious with each other whilst they negotiated their new roles. With Charlie’s grandfather he could be open, honest – sound off if he wanted to, without breaking anything.
Jonathan listened as Matthew paced around the room, and from time to time made gentle statements that encouraged Matthew to talk more. It was hard for boys, he thought: girls talked endlessly, helping each other to find a way through the maze that was growing up. But boys were supposed to do it on their own.
“Yes,” Matthew said. “I think Dad is happy now. And Bryony’s okay – we just don’t know each other very well yet.” He smiled briefly. “We get on best when we talk about the horses.”
“Common ground is a good starting place,” Jonathan observed mildly. What he did notice was that in Matthew’s talking there was always a gap, in the shape of his mother. Jonathan didn’t pry: Matthew would talk about her when he wanted to. “I have a joke. What do burglars eat for breakfast?”
“Go on,” Matthew said, laughing already.
“Poached eggs! Now tell us all about Charlie and the clothes. In detail.”
So Matthew did, from Charlie’s original no-I-won’t-try-clothes-on refusal to her I-look-good-and-this-is-fantastic clear round. Lorraine was smiling fondly. “And does she still feel good?”
“Oh yes. She’s suddenly – I don’t know, grown in confidence or something. She’s more sure-footed. Daisy doesn’t like it one bit. She can’t sneer at Charlie about her clothes or looks any more.” “In fact, why has Daisy got it in for Charlie so much? Charlie’s so nice – and Daisy’s playing all the aces.” Matthew was genuinely puzzled – and a bit worried too.
Joanthan sighed. “But Charlie is happy in who she is. And I don’t think Daisy has that. I wish we could make a difference.” Daisy looked at what her parents were wearing and sighed. “Honestly, chunky knitwear is so like, last Tuesday. Knitwear has to be thin and…”
“Chilly,” her father interjected, whilst Jonquil added tartly, “I’ve had my mother criticising my dress sense all my life. I don’t need you starting too.” “The fashion raven is in,” Charlie observed placidly.
“You men fashion maven,” Daisy corrected her.
“No I don’t. I mean raven. Always croaking doom and gloom and disaster because nothing’s ever good enough.”
Both her parents laughed, much to Daisy’s disgust. “What are you both doing today?”
“I’m going out for a walk this afternoon – I said I’d take Matthew up to the pond, show him where we might get some skating if it’s cold enough.”
“I’m going out with my bezzies. Poppy wants to go clothes shopping. And Grandma gave me some money, so I might buy something too.”
David frowned. He didn’t like Cynthia’s constant hand-outs to Daisy. “Did you ever find out how much your mother gave Daisy for holiday money?”
“Dad says it was twenty pounds to Charlie’s ten. But I don’t see how Daisy could have bought all those clothes for that price. Which means Daisy is lying to us…and I don’t like that. I guess it was Poppy subsidising her – she’s got more money than is good for her.”
“Guilt offerings from her absent father. But have you thought that it might be your mother who’s lying to us?”
Jonquil was silenced – and worried. Matthew had admired the pond, agreed with Charlie that if it kept getting as chilly as this, then they might get some skating in before Christmas – and told her that her grandmère and grandpère had invited him, his father and Bryony to their annual Christmas Eve party. Her total delight about that had really pleased him – and suddenly he found himself talking to her about his mother. Like her grandfather, Charlie was a good listener.
“She just left. She just said Dad was such a failure, there was no point in staying. Who wants a loser for a husband? And for ages after, that’s what he believed about himself.”
“But why?”
“Money.” Matthew’s voice was bitter. “She thought Dad was going to be another Olaf Hansen, that he was going to come out with some amazing invention that would make millions. But he’s not that sort of scientist. He doesn’t make that sort of discoveries.”
He went on talking as they walked through the woods together, and Charlie just listened. Hanako was a bit like this: she’d store things up and then spill them out all at once.
“Who lives here?” he asked, breaking off from his story, intrigued.
“No-one. Look at it. But there used to be people living in these woods – Grandpère could tell you, he’s hot on history.” They sat – cautiously at first! – on the chairs outside the abandoned hut and went on talking, Matthew spilling out more of his hurt and frustration.
“She hasn’t seen me since I was seven. I don’t suppose she’d even recognise me now. She doesn’t know where I live – I’ve got no address for her to be able to tell her. How can somebody do that? Just walk out on the people who love them?” Somebody, somewhere had lit a fire. Matthew could smell the woodsmoke sharp on the air. For the rest of his life, the scent of woodsmoke would bring him back to this late autumn day, the sun warm but the air crisp and cold and the sense of release that came with telling Charlie about his mother.