Her idea clearly has nothing whatsoever to do with kindness – and everything to do with getting Matt’s attention!
Not that this bothers me, of course.
I mean, really, why would it?
‘In a gentle way, you can shake the world.’
– Mahatma Ghandi
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
It’s the following Sunday afternoon. Fen and I have finished our food bank deliveries for the day and are calling at the supermarket on our way home.
‘Mummy?’
I turn to Eva, who’s in her car seat between Fen and me. ‘Yes, love?’
‘Do babies know they’re alive yet?’
My eyes widen. ‘Gosh, well…’ I glance at Fen for help. ‘That’s a very good question. Don’t you think so, Auntie Fen?’
Fen pulls into a parking space, pulls on the handbrake and switches off the engine. ‘That, Miss Eva, is indeed an excellent question. I think…babies do know they’re alive, even though they don’t know what the word “alive” means yet.’
I nod approvingly, wondering if it will be good enough for Eva.
She smiles her gummy smile at Fen and then at me. ‘I can’t remember when I was a baby, Mummy. Was I as little as a mouse?’
‘Well, not quite a mouse. A rabbit, maybe. With big floppy ears.’
‘I looked like a rabbit?’ She giggles. ‘You look like Olaf the snowman. With a big carrot nose.’
‘What?’ I touch my nose, pretending to be horrified. ‘A cute and sometimes very cheeky rabbit!’ I reach over and start tickling her, as she shrieks with delight.
In the supermarket, Eva runs straight over to the marked-down section. We always do that. I make a game of it and she gets almost as excited as me reading the bargain prices. She starts pointing at all the lovely red labels, and I laugh and fill up our basket. I can’t help wondering what Fen makes of all this – but pretty soon, she gets in the spirit of it all and starts exclaiming over the bargains herself.
‘It’s my birthday next week, Auntie Fen,’ says Eva suddenly.
Fen beams at her. ‘Is it really? How old will you be?’
‘Four.’
‘Ooh, are you excited?’
She nods. ‘You can come to my party. If you like.’
I look down at my daughter in alarm.
‘Are you having a party with all your friends?’ asks Fen.
Eva sees my panicked face and hesitates. Then she slips her hand in mine. ‘It’s all right, Mummy. The fairies will get me a party.’
‘The fairies?’ I attempt a smile.
‘Yes. The fairies can do lots of magic things. They paint rainbows in the sky and they sleep on leaves in the garden.’
Fen’s eyes open wide. ‘Do they? Wow, they sound pretty cool.’
‘It’s her favourite book at the moment,’ I murmur to my friend, then in a normal voice, ‘We have to read it every night. Don’t we, Eva? You could probably read it to me by now, you’re practically word-perfect.’
A horrible nauseous feeling has set up camp in my stomach. How do I explain to my hopeful daughter that fairies might be magical but organising special events is not exactly part of their remit?
‘They hang stars in the sky to make a night-light,’ she’s saying.
Fen smiles. ‘How clever is that.’
‘The fairies are lots clever,’ she says firmly. ‘They can do anything. They’ll get me a party.’ And she runs off down the aisle to look for more marked-down stickers.
Fen frowns. ‘You look pale, Molly. Are things okay?’
‘Yes.’ I try to smile. ‘Yes, I’m fine.’
‘And the fairy party? Do you…think that will happen?’
‘Ha! Doubt it. Not sure how I’m going to tell Eva that, though.’ I shrug, trying to make light of it, although I’m not sure I’m convincing Fen. ‘No, I’d actually just planned to take her out for pizza. You know, just her and me, and a few treats when we get home?’ As tears suddenly flood my eyes, I look away and pretend to be searching through the stickered items in the basket.
What sort of mum can’t even give her daughter a little party for her birthday? A useless one, that’s who…
Painfully aware that Fen is watching me, I say lightly, ‘Life, eh? Whatever you do, you still feel guilty because it never seems like enough. I want to give Eva the whole world, naturally, but you can’t spoil them, can you? Right, I’m just going to…’ Pointing at the next aisle, I hurry away.
I stand there staring at a fridge full of marked-down packets of ham, trying to get myself under control. Then a woman makes a show of reaching past me, as if to say I’m in the way of her grabbing a bargain, so I quickly step aside. When she’s gone, I start mechanically filling my basket with ham.
‘Are you sure you’ll be able to use all that?’ asks Fen at my shoulder a moment later. ‘I don’t think you can freeze ham.’
I look at her and grimace. ‘You’re right. I’m being too keen.’ I start unloading the packets from my basket.
‘Eva’s just bumped into Jasmine?’
‘Oh. Her best friend at school? Is she with Angela?’ I like Jasmine’s mum, Angela. She’s kind and funny and she never asks personal questions about my life.
‘Yes. Angela’s taking Jasmine for an ice-cream in the café here. She wondered if we’d like to join them?’
‘Okay. Great.’ Instantly, I’m trying to remember how much cash I have in my purse to last me the week.
Fen must have seen my slight hesitation, because she says, ‘Actually, the ice-creams are on me.’
‘No! It’s fine.’
‘Please let me? As a thank you for making the box scheme deliveries much more fun than they otherwise would be? Especially with Eva along!’
We join the others and have a happy half hour drinking coffee and watching Eva and Jasmine demolish their ice-creams.
‘Ice-cream when it’s still chilly!’ Angela pretends to shudder. ‘A little dickie bird tells me it’s a certain someone’s birthday next Sunday.’
Eva smiles. ‘It’s my birthday. I’m having a party.’
‘Ooh.’ Angela rubs her hands together. ‘Lovely.’
I catch Angela’s eye and give my head a little shake, and a look of understanding passes between us, which I’m glad about. I’d hate Angela to think we had a party and didn’t invite Jasmine.
‘I’m baking a birthday cake, aren’t I, Mummy?’ says Eva.
I smile at her. ‘Yes, and I’m going to be your helper.’
Her eyes widen. ‘Can we bake now? I love baking. It’s my very favourite. Jasmine could come to my house and bake cakes as well.’
I swallow. ‘Oh, I’m afraid not. Not tonight. We…haven’t got all the ingredients in for a cake. Some other time, though?’ I feel so bad saying no.
‘I used to love baking with my mummy,’ smiles Fen. ‘She used to let me lick the spoon.’
Eva nods. ‘That’s the bestest bit. ‘Specially if it’s chocolate cake.’