‘Mary’s ginger and raisin cookies? Yum!’ Rosa emptied the Tupperware into the biscuit tin. ‘Good old Mum.’
‘She sends her love.’ Titch immediately reached in and grabbed two. ‘And if there’s a competition running, I will always beat you in the Worst Mother category. Do you remember that night we got drunk in the Ship when Theo was only a couple of months old? My poor mother; she had to have him nearly the whole of the next day, I was in such a bad way. He could have thrown himself out of the cot and I wouldn’t have noticed.’
‘Where are Theo and the dogs today, then?’
‘This is why I’ve dropped by to see you. I come bearing great news.’ Titch grinned. ‘A Cockleberry Crèche, also known as Little Angels, is now officially up and running in a room off the church hall five days a week. It’s so much closer than the one I used to put Theo in and the woman who runs it is so laid-back and flexible. Gladys Moore, her name is, and she’s one of our tribe, Rose. She’s so lovely, very experienced, has all the qualifications, and also has a great sense of humour. I trust her implicitly with my Theo. He’s been twice now. He bloody cries when he has to leave her. The little sod.’
‘That’s surely a good sign, isn’t it?’ Rosa sat down at the kitchen table. ‘Don’t tell me she takes dogs too.’ She lowered her voice. ‘That would be just the best.’
‘Not quite, I’ve left my two with Mum today. Sometimes it just gets a bit too much for all of us, doesn’t it? So don’t keep beating yourself up, Rose.’
‘I hear you, sister! I can’t believe we missed that amazing item on the old Cockleberry grapevine about a new crèche in town.’ Rosa took a drink of tea then admitted, ‘Saying that, I’m in a daze half the time at the moment.’
‘I think it all happened very quickly, but it’s a blessing, I tell you. Having a toddler and running the shop just wasn’t working. At least when they are this age, they sleep for hours.’ Titch was enjoying her cuddle with Little Ned, who had fallen asleep. ‘Ritchie is great but juggling his chip-shop shifts has been challenging as his mum has got some kind of flu bug and he’s had to cover for her. He’s just doing an hour for me now as I wanted to spend some time with you.’
‘Aw. That’s nice. I can’t even imagine what it will be like for you with two of them to look after.’
Titch groaned. ‘Tell me. I could never deny my Ritchie having a child of his own though, how could I? He’s such an angel. This one has definitely got his gangly limbs; he or she is forever kicking me.’
‘A Christmas Day baby will be so sweet.’
‘For whom, Rose? This one isn’t going to be too happy when they realise it’s one set of presents every year. But at least me and Ritchie will be off for a few days when the birth happens – if our baby is on time, that is. And hurrah, I’ll be able to have a drink on New Year’s Eve.’
‘Er – and if you are breast-feeding? Maybe just the one.’
‘Look at you being the sensible one.’ Titch smiled.
‘I think it’s so great you are waiting to find out the sex.’ Rosa carried on.
‘You know what? There’s not so many surprises in life these days, so we thought it would be fun.’
‘I agree. I reckon it’s another boy though. Do you?’
‘I think it’s a bloody giraffe.’
They both laughed.
‘Was Theo early then?’
‘No, but he flew out without warning, didn’t he? Right on the Corner Shop floor, where I now stand every day serving customers.’
‘That seems like years ago now.’
‘Two years, five weeks to be exact. Talking of twos – and I know this is the question every mother hates – but when are you planning to have another one? Josh wants a football team, doesn’t he? And how lovely if our little broods could all be friends together.’
‘Give me a break, mate. Josh may have to call on a substitute if he wants one this early. I’m only just about coping with this little bundle of fun.’
‘It will get easier,’ Titch soothed. ‘I keep being told that anyway.’ She had a think, then added, ‘Saying that, if he’s not back until December, even if you get up the duff straightaway, you’ve got at least another year with just Little Ned.’
‘Thank God!’ Rosa replied. ‘I wanted to get the accounts sorted for Ned’s Gift today, but that ain’t going to happen now, isn’t it?’ She finished off the last of her mug of tea. ‘Nice to get a sneaky nap in though.’
‘How’s it all going with the charity anyway? You haven’t mentioned it lately.’
‘Well, I still have the thirty collection tins around here and Polhampton in various shops and cafés, et cetera, but as Christmas is coming – the season of goodwill to men and all that – I need to think of something that will bring some cash in to support them. They are all such great causes and I feel I’ve been letting them down slightly.’
‘Rose, just remember that looking after a baby is a full-time job.’
‘True, true – but you know what I’m like. I have to be busy and I’m forever thinking of new ideas rather than just relying on the charity-box donations. So, if you have any ideas, answers on a postcard, please.’
‘Lucas is going to turn the rear car park of the Ship into a grotto, apparently,’ Titch came out with. ‘Father Christmas, a hut for kids to write letters to Santa and even talk of reindeers.’
‘Real reindeers?’
‘I guess so, unless he and Danny are dressing up like a pantomime cow.’
Rosa laughed. ‘The kids will all love that, for sure.’
‘Maybe you can tie something in with that; a Christmas raffle or another event?’
‘I was thinking more along the lines of involving the community, like setting up a festive fête or concert maybe. I just need to get my head around it.’ Rosa stretched her arms out in front of her and yawned again.
‘Talking of pantomimes, how about you organise one of them?’ Titch said eagerly. ‘Do Peter Pan! I’d make a great Tinkerbell, flying through the air on a wire.’
‘What, with that belly? You’d never take off. Anyway, we can’t do a pantomime, not in the church hall anyway. It’s banned.’ Titch looked perplexed as Rosa went on: ‘You must know about this – Mary told me. It went down in Cockleberry history over twenty years ago, she said. What happened was that the guy playing Joseph outed his wife onstage for having an affair with the Angel Gabriel; in his hurry to escape the humiliation, Gabriel got his wings caught in a wise man’s walking stick and fell off the stage, breaking his ankle.’
Titch cried with laughter. ‘That is bloody hilarious!’ She wiped her eyes. ‘Can you imagine being in the audience. Classic. So why the ban?’
‘Because Joseph, aka Mr Gunter, is still the verger. He never got over the shame of it. Saying that, he lives with the woman who does the church flowers now and is very happy. So maybe it was meant to be.’
‘I can’t believe that juicy bit of gossip has escaped me for all these years.’ Titch reached for her tea.