I’m just sweeping an astonishing array of phone chargers into a plastic carrier bag in the kitchen when I’m startled to hear the front door open.
‘Sorry to catch you unawares,’ Andrew says apologetically. ‘I know you weren’t expecting them back till tonight. I wanted to phone ahead, but Tolly—’
‘Mummy!’ Tolly cries, pushing past his father and flinging himself at me. ‘We’re home! Are you surprised? Did we surprise you?’ His arms wreathe around my neck. ‘I didn’t want you to miss us anymore,’ he says, with just the tiniest tremor in his voice.
Tolly’s only four; even one night without your mother is a lifetime at that age. Most of the time, he takes his weekends with his father and Caz in his stride, but occasionally he gets homesick, and Andrew is sensitive enough to take his lead from his son when that happens, for which I’m grateful.
‘Thank you so much for coming home early,’ I say, hugging him tightly. ‘I was missing you terribly. I hardly slept at all, even though I knew you were having fun with Daddy.’
‘I’m going to find Bagpuss,’ he announces, abruptly pulling away from me, his ship already righted. If only motherhood was always this easy. ‘I think he’s missed me, too.’
Bagpuss! Thank God Tolly reminded me. I knew there was something I’d forgotten.
Bella almost collides with her brother as he races from the room. ‘Why are our bags in the hall?’ she demands. ‘What’s going on?’
‘Dad and Caz have been very kind, letting us stay here, but we’ve imposed enough,’ I say firmly. ‘We’re going back home. It’s going to be a bit like camping until the kitchen’s finished, but—’
‘I don’t want to go home,’ Bella interrupts. ‘I like it here. Can I stay, Dad? I’ll be fine on my own, I promise. And it’s closer to school, I can just get the bus—’
‘You’re sixteen!’ I snap. ‘You’re not staying here on your own.’
‘Dad—’
‘Sorry, Bell.’ Andrew shrugs. ‘I’m with your mother on this one.’
‘Bella,’ I interject sharply. ‘What’s that in your mouth?’
For a moment, she looks nervous, and then she lifts her chin. ‘I had my tongue pierced,’ she says.
I stare at her, horrified. ‘You did what?’
‘It’s my body,’ Bella says defiantly. The effect is marred slightly by the slight lisp from the piercing in her mouth. ‘I have the right to do what I want with it.’
‘You’re still a child!’ Andrew cries, clearly just as appalled as me.
She glares at us, her lips clamped tightly together as if we might prise the piercing from her mouth. From the expression on Andrew’s face, he’s considering it. When did our sweet-natured baby turn into this sullen, truculent stranger?
‘She must have got it done yesterday,’ Andrew says helplessly. ‘I’m so sorry, Lou. I had no idea she’d sneaked off to do it.’
‘Actually,’ a voice says behind us, ‘she didn’t “sneak off” anywhere. I took her.’
Caz joins us in the kitchen, dumping her ludicrously expensive cream Prada bag on the counter as if it’s a carrier bag from Sainsbury’s.
‘For God’s sake,’ Andrew says testily. ‘Why would you take my daughter to get her tongue pierced?’
‘She’s sixteen. It’s not illegal. She was going to get it done anyway, so I thought it’d be better if I made sure she went to a reputable place with clean needles.’ Caz shrugs. ‘And it’s not like a tattoo, it’s not permanent. She can take it out at any time.’
‘It’s not Caz’s fault,’ Bella says staunchly. ‘She’s right, I would’ve done it anyway.’
A complicit glance passes between them. Bella used to loathe Caz, but suddenly the two of them are thick as thieves, and I’m the one on the outside.
‘You had no right,’ Andrew snaps at Caz. ‘She’s my child. When she’s under my roof, she’s my responsibility.’
I don’t miss the sudden tension between the two of them. It’s not just about the tongue piercing, either. I know what Andrew looks like when he’s on the defensive. Caz is making a mistake: he doesn’t like being in the wrong, and he’ll find a way to blame her for it. If I had to guess, I’d say she’s seen the video Bella posted to her dad’s page last week. Bella didn’t mean anything by it – the clip probably popped up in her Facebook ‘throwback’ feed and she just shared it to him – but I’ll admit my motives weren’t quite as pure when I saw it and tagged Caz. She may want to rewrite history now and tell herself Andrew never really loved me, but he did, and that video proves it. Everything that went wrong between us can be traced back to that woman’s appearance in our lives, and she deserves to be reminded of that now and again.
Tolly suddenly bursts back into the kitchen, startling us all. ‘Bagpuss has throwed up!’ he cries, his eyes wide with drama. ‘It’s all over Daddy’s bed!’
‘On my blanket?’ Caz exclaims. ‘That’s Peruvian vicuña!’
My son stops short, suddenly uncertain. ‘It’s OK,’ I say quickly. ‘It’s not your fault. Caz isn’t blaming you. Thank you for telling us.’
‘Did you give him tuna, Mum?’ Bella accuses.
I hesitate. ‘Only a little bit. He loves licking out the tin.’
‘Mum! You know it always makes him sick!’
‘I assume that’s why she gave it to him,’ Caz mutters.
Andrew sighs. ‘Bella, can you just go and sort it out. Get Kit and Tolly to help you.’
Bella is about to protest, but something in her father’s expression tells her this is not the time. She sighs theatrically, grabs a roll of kitchen towel from the counter, and stomps off upstairs with the boys.
‘Look, I’ll fix the blanket,’ I say, sorry-not-sorry. ‘Get it dry-cleaned, or something. I’m sure it’s not as bad as it sounds. Or I’ll get you a new one—’
‘You can’t dry-clean vicuña,’ Caz says sharply. ‘And it’s irreplaceable. I bought it when I was in Machu Picchu. What is that cat even doing in my house? You know I’m allergic. Andy told you not to bring him.’
I specifically asked Andrew if it was OK to bring Bagpuss, and he said it was fine. Clearly that didn’t get approved further up the food chain. He catches my eye, and I read his wordless appeal not to land him in it. ‘I’m sorry,’ I say, falling on my sword. ‘I didn’t know what else to do with him. He’s so old, he couldn’t cope with my mother’s dog, and Min’s boys are so boisterous—’
Caz cuts me off. ‘Whatever. It’s done now. I suppose it doesn’t matter, since you’re leaving anyway.’
A beat late, Andrew picks up his cue. ‘Look, Louise. It’s not that we haven’t been happy to help out. It’s just, I think we all need a bit of distance going forward.’ He coughs, and shifts awkwardly on his feet. ‘I’m not sure taking the job at Whitefish was a good idea, to be honest. I’m all for keeping things civilised, but you’ve put Caz in a bit of an awkward position. It’s difficult for her to do her job properly when there’s such a personal relationship between the two of you.’ He looks at her, and then back at me, clearly trying to remember the script she’s given him. ‘We all need a bit of space. Just so no feathers get ruffled. I could … er … give you the number of our handyman, so you don’t have to call me. And Bella’s old enough to bring Tolly to me for weekends without involving you.’