‘I hope so. I’m Rosa Smith and this is Little Ned, my son, and I just wanted to see if you provide vegan meals before we discuss anything further.’ The young mum’s face remained deadpan for a second, then on seeing the woman’s dismay Rosa quickly explained, ‘Sorry, but I couldn’t resist. You see, I overheard your conversation. The nearest we get to veganism in my household is eating an apple.’
Gladys Moore let out a loud throaty laugh. ‘Rosa, I like you already. I needed that. It’s been a bloody tough morning.’
‘I can imagine, I have trouble coping with just the one.’
‘I do have a young assistant, Claire, but Pablo Escobar bit her, so she’s gone to the hospital to get a tetanus jab.’ Gladys pointed to a cage across the room where a grey chinchilla was munching on some hay. ‘Our resident pet. Thankfully, he took to car travel, as he was originally just here for the day, but he’s been such a hit that he’s one of our resident Little Angels now.’ Gladys could sense what Rosa was thinking. ‘And don’t worry, he doesn’t usually bite, but Bertie stuck a pencil in his eye and Claire was trying to pacify him – Pablo, that is, not Bertie.’
Rosa couldn’t help but smile. Titch was right, Gladys Moore was definitely one of their tribe. Also, she grinned to herself on recalling how Josh sometimes called her ‘my little chinchilla’.
‘Little Ned? So is his dad Big Ned, then?’ the nursery owner asked.
Rosa explained, ‘No, that was my great-grandfather. The name on his lordship’s birth certificate is Benedict, but that’s quite a mouthful and I thought there would be fewer Neds around than Bens, so Little Ned just stuck. When he goes to school, I dare say I will have to drop the Little, but that’s OK.’
‘They stay little boys all their lives, girl, but let’s not say that out loud or the PC police will be knocking on our doors.’
Rosa was amused: she loved this woman already. Then looking at the cage in the corner, she frowned and queried, ‘Pablo Escobar? That’s an interesting name too.’
‘That’s my husband for you. I said, “Frank, we can’t be explaining to children who Pablo Escobar is – him being the world’s richest and most successful crime lord.” “Yes, my dear, I realise that. But you can teach them about South America where both he and the chinchilla come from.” Anyway, I just call the little fluff Pablo in front of the children, who are all under four and care more for crayons, cars and cookies than countries – or chinchillas for that matter.’ Gladys then looked closely at Rosa. ‘I recognise you.’
‘You do?’
‘Ah, yes. Rosa, isn’t it?’ The woman was animated: she spoke incredibly fast. ‘The Corner Shop owner, you’re that Rosa, aren’t you? And yes, Ned was the great-grandfather who left you the shop. I saw an article about you a while back in the South Cliffs Gazette. What a lovely story that was. In fact, we were living in Harberford at the time. Do you know it?’
Rosa shook her head, and Little Ned started to stir.
‘It’s inland a bit from Polhampton. Hearing about Cockleberry Bay, well, me and my Frank have always wanted to live by the sea and one of those mobile homes came up in the park at the top of the hill – you know, by the garage. I never thought you could live in them as a resident, but you can. Ours even has two bedrooms. He’s on the bins, my Frank that is, and a job came up in Polhampton for him, so here we are. I used to childmind at home in Harberford and I also worked for several years running a nursery there, but this big church room is lovely and so much easier to clean up, plus we have a kitchen adjacent, as well as two child-sized toilets and one for the adults, cots for the babies a great enclosed bit of outdoor space here too, where the children can run around, drive our little plastic vehicles and stretch their legs in the sun. It’s perfect. And how lucky was I to find it was vacant. You changed our life too, little lady. See?’
‘Wow. That’s amazing.’ Rosa felt a warm glow inside. ‘So, have you always lived in Devon?’
‘Born and bred. I met my Frank at Polhampton High. Fell in love over a Bunsen Burner experiment in the fourth form. Quite a day that was. I leaned forward, my hair nearly went up and he had to douse me with a can of orange Fanta.’
‘Some would call that love at first light, no doubt,’ Rosa said, surprising herself at her own joke.
‘Yes, yes.’ The woman’s contagious laugh rang around the hall. ‘And how about you? I can detect a London accent.’
‘Yes. I’ve been here three years this Christmas now and married to Josh for just over two.’
‘And let me guess…’ Gladys looked into the pram. ‘Four months to the day, I reckon.’ Rosa reached under the end of the covers for Little Ned’s bottle. ‘You’re so close. On the ninth of November he will be four months old. Could I just warm this somewhere, please?’
‘Of course. Give it to me.’
They went through into the small but spotless kitchen. Gladys took the bottle, shook it, and put it into the microwave. ‘So, I guess you want me to take this little man under my bingo wings?’ She lifted her right arm and wobbled it under her sleeve. ‘Luckily, I have plenty of room. Fancy a cuppa?’
Rosa grinned. ‘No thanks to tea, I just want to find out a bit more first, if that’s OK. Do you have children of your own, Gladys?’
Gladys blew out a huge noisy breath. ‘I’m saying this fast; it’s easier that way. I lost a few babies; couldn’t hold on to them. There were complications. A hysterectomy – you know.’
Rosa bit her lip. ‘I’m so sorry. I had an early miscarriage and that was bad enough. I can’t even imagine what you went through.’
‘I had two choices, I could flail around on the floor punching it, saying woe is me, or I could get up, brush myself down and live a full life. All of these children are my own real-life little angels now. And there are many advantages. I get to enjoy them all and then give them back, so me and my Frank can have a nice quiet evening together. Oh, and holidays, and to get jiggy when we want it. We love our me time, you know.’
Rosa tried to get the vision of Gladys and Frank’s me time out of her mind.
‘He’s always called me his exotic flower. I just say, “Frank Moore, enough of the exotic and more of the erotic. Just give me more of the Moore”.’ Gladys let out another one of her marvellous throaty laughs, causing Rosa first to smile, then to reflect that her usually rampant sex-life with Josh had almost vanished without her even noticing.
The vivacious and likeable nursery owner looked down and started cooing over the now wide-awake and hungry baby loudly announcing himself to this new face. She lifted him out of the pram and stroked his cheek gently. ‘So, what’s all this fuss about, baby Smith, you handsome little fella?’ The large lady made a shushing noise and, as if being lulled into some kind of trance, the baby immediately stopped crying. Then, testing the temperature of the milk on the inside of her wrist, she went and sat down on the sofa again, got Little Ned comfortable and gently pushed the teat into his mouth and held it there. ‘You enjoy that,’ she instructed him, ‘while I tell Mummy exactly what else she needs to know.’