I clamp my mouth shut and set off walking again before I say something I might regret. I want people around here to get the right impression of us. It’s important to me they accept us from the off and today, I really feel, for the first time, that I don’t want to live my life in the shadows any more.
Rowan skips ahead, over his initial shyness and buoyant from his friendly exchange with Aisha. Another fifty yards, and a bright voice rings out.
‘Hello again!’
It’s Polly Finch, the woman whose house I parked outside on Saturday morning.
‘Hello, Polly!’ I stop at her gate to say a few words. ‘This is my husband, Isaac.’ I turn to him and explain that Polly and I have already met.
‘Pleased to meet you.’ Isaac smiles and shakes her hand.
‘Lovely to meet you, Isaac,’ she says. ‘Hello again, Rowan.’
My son stares at the floor and I jiggle his hand. ‘Say hello to Polly, Rowan.’
‘Hello,’ he mumbles dutifully.
‘Rowan starts his new school tomorrow,’ I tell her as she leans on the gate, a small trowel in her hand. I pull a nervous face that he can’t see. ‘His first morning.’
‘Which one is he going to? All Saints is a lovely school. Unpretentious and very much focused in the community.’
All Saints is a C of E school that’s pretty close to our house, but its OFSTED rating isn’t as high as Lady Bridge.
‘I’ve enrolled Rowan at Lady Bridge,’ I say tentatively.
‘I see. Well, there are lots of children living on Buckingham Crescent who attend Lady Bridge.’ Polly’s smile falters slightly. ‘I must be getting on, so I’ll let you go on your way.’ She looks at the patch of soil she’s been weeding before glancing up at me again. ‘We must get together for a cup of tea and a natter next week, Janey.’
‘Sounds lovely,’ I say as Polly gets back to work.
‘Everybody seems friendly enough,’ Isaac says as we approach our own front gate. ‘You’re gathering quite a collection of invites. I just think it’s best we don’t get too involved with people too soon.’
I pull the door key out of my handbag and roll my eyes. I don’t know what’s eating him but his comment doesn’t warrant a reply.
Later, I arrange our spoils from the deli on the table and we sit down in the kitchen together to eat.
‘This bread is delicious,’ Isaac raves, dunking a thick wedge into a shallow saucer of olive oil and balsamic vinegar.
‘Tastes even better ’cos we’re eating it in our posh new house,’ Rowan says in all seriousness, popping an olive into his mouth.
‘You know, I think you might be right, son,’ Isaac agrees. ‘I reckon everything will be so much better here. Footie in the garden, movie nights with pizza, and best of all, you’ll get an earlier bedtime.’
‘Hey… no way!’ Rowan scowls and we all laugh, even him.
‘You wait, you’ll be so tired from making friends at your new school, you’ll be begging to go to bed at six o’clock.’ Isaac nudges him. ‘Looking forward to it?’
‘Yes,’ Rowan says apprehensively. He prods at his food and goes quiet.
I give Isaac a look. I wish he hadn’t brought the subject of the new school up so late in the day. I don’t want Rowan lying awake and worrying about what the morning might bring when he should be getting a good night’s rest for his big day.
‘It’s OK, sweetie, Dad’s only teasing.’ I touch his arm.
Isaac winks, and Rowan’s frown disappears. He breaks off more bread, and chews, his mouth full.
We’re acting like a proper family again. Sitting at the table together, enjoying our food and chatting… it seems so long since we’ve done it. In his other job, Isaac hardly ever got back from work before seven at night, and Rowan was always starving the minute he came in from school. Isaac would grab something to eat on the road, and so rather than wait for him, I’d eat my meal about an hour after Rowan. It was virtually impossible for us all to sit down together.
I think about Isaac’s potentially more relaxed working schedule. Although he’ll obviously have to show commitment and prove himself at the new company, he seems to think that working from home will be a definite possibility. My heart swells at the thought of the three of us spending more time together.
Today feels like just a taste of what’s to come.
Seven
Monday morning doesn’t quite start in the way I’d hoped.
Isaac’s phone rings at seven-thirty as the three of us are about to sit down to an early breakfast of poached eggs on toast. It’s part of my effort to encourage us to eat our meals together as often as possible. He disappears out into the hallway to answer it, and I linger at the kitchen door and listen to the one-way conversation.
‘Oh, hi, Bob! Yes, good, thank you… OK… I see, yes. No problem at all. I’ll leave right now.’
Before he ends the call, I’m back at the table. He stands in the doorway and looks guiltily at his breakfast plate.
‘That was Bob, my new boss.’
‘He needs you to go in?’ Here we go again. I take a breath and swallow down the unhelpful comment.
‘I’m so sorry, Janey.’ I soften a bit when I see his wretched expression. ‘I know I said we could both take Rowan to school this morning, but apparently there are some bigwigs travelling up from London a day earlier than they expected and Bob needs me to…’
Rowan stops eating and looks up at his father.
‘But if you go to work now, you won’t get to meet my new teacher, Dad.’
‘I know, son. It’s a stinker, it really is.’ Isaac runs a hand through his hair. ‘It’s just this first morning, though. I’ll definitely be able to meet her tomorrow.’ He hesitates. ‘Or the next day.’
Rowan dips his spoon into his cereal and stirs it round and round. I take his dish and replace it with a plate of toast and eggs.
I look at Isaac and he mouths the word sorry.
‘It can’t be helped, these things happen.’ I shrug, disappointed but trying to be practical. ‘You go up and get ready. It’s important you make the right impression with your new boss. Just leave your breakfast; I’ll clear it away.’ Before he can leave, he’s got to shower and shave and then get dressed. Eating breakfast with us will only slow him down.
‘Thanks for understanding, Janey.’ He kisses me on the cheek and musses Rowan’s hair as he leans over. ‘Have a great day at your new school, champ.’
It occurs to me I haven’t really got much choice but to understand. In his first few weeks at the company there’s bound to be a pull on his time. He has a responsible new role and it’s his chance to prove himself. I’d be naïve to think he’ll be home more from day one.
He snatches a piece of toast from his plate and disappears upstairs. Two minutes later, I hear the low, continuous drone of the shower pump above our heads.
‘Come on, Rowan, you’re making hard work of that.’ He’s pushing triangles of toast around his plate and chopping into his egg without actually eating any of it. ‘Do you feel OK about going in this morning?’