‘Oh that! Yeah, I said that! I thought you said that it was a not-very-nice word?’
I glance at Nick for support but he seems to be thoroughly enjoying the entertainment being laid on before him and just waves his hand nonchalantly at me, which is no help whatsoever.
‘Well, it’s not a word that should be shouted at other people,’ I tell him. ‘You know better than that.’
Benji nods. ‘I do know better than that. Which is why, when Auberon was shouting “You’re a willy” to the people who were walking their dog on the other side of the fence, I told him that you shouldn’t be embarrassed about using the proper word for things and that he should really be shouting “You’re a penis”.’ He pauses and stares at me. ‘Was that wrong? Because you’ve always told us that there’s nothing embarrassing about using the right word for body stuff.’
‘You have always told them that,’ agrees Nick, nodding seriously. I resist the urge to knock his can of beer off the table.
‘It’s clearly just a misunderstanding,’ I say. ‘I’ll let Auberon’s mum know what happened and then we can forget all about it.’
‘Why did you say that penis is a rude and offensive word?’ Benji is obviously not prepared to forget all about it. ‘I’ve got one and so does Dad and Dylan. Does that mean that we’re rude and offensive too?’
The grin on Nick’s face is large enough to house one man and his dog which is handy, because if he keeps this up then he’s certainly not sleeping under this roof tonight.
‘Only sometimes,’ I mutter. ‘But it’s not necessarily linked to your genitalia. More of a personality thing, I’d say.’
‘So can I go then?’ Benji pushes his chair back and stands up. ‘Only I’m in the middle of a game with Logan and if I’m gone for too long then he’s going to destroy my house and I’ll have to start building it again.’
I nod. ‘You’ve got twenty more minutes of screen-time and then you’ll have to come off, okay?’
Benji groans. ‘Can’t I stay on a bit longer? Logan’s Mum lets him stay on for hours.’
‘Well, I’m not Logan’s Mum,’ I retort, looking meaningfully at the kitchen clock. ‘Time is ticking, Benji – you’ve only got nineteen minutes left now.’
The kitchen door slams closed behind him as he sprints off to claim his precious allocated time on the computer. I pick up my phone and then pause.
‘What am I going to tell Allegra?’ I ask Nick.
He shrugs. ‘The truth. It’s not that complicated, Hannah.’
The laugh that pushes itself through my tightly pursed lips is as humourless as I feel.
‘Not that complicated? Are you insane?’ I lean back in my chair and stare at my husband. ‘I can hardly send Mrs Perfect Mother a WhatsApp message telling her that her perfect son was shouting abuse at complete strangers.’
‘Why not?’ Nick looks puzzled. ‘That’s what happened. Benji shouldn’t be branded as the problem here – her kid was the one doing something stupid, not him.’
‘But it doesn’t work like that,’ I tell him. ‘If I tell Allegra that Auberon was behaving in a less-than-fabulous manner then she’s going to make my life a living hell. You know the phrase “don’t shoot the messenger”? Well, Allegra won’t do anything as humane as to shoot me. That would be far too easy. She’ll spin this out and exact her own brand of torture for the rest of the school year until I’m begging her to just put me out of misery.’
Nick laughs. ‘You’re being a total drama-queen! Just tell her that Auberon was being a bit daft. What on earth can she possibly do to you?’
I lean across the table and fix him with a firm look.
‘She can do anything she likes,’ I intone. ‘Because she is in charge of the goddamned world, Nick.’
‘Really?’ Nick rolls his eyes at me. ‘The goddamned world?’
I nod. ‘If I get on the wrong side of her then the rest of the school year is going to be a complete misery. She’ll act all nice to my face and bitch about me behind my back and I’ll end up being given all the crappy jobs at every school event.’
Nick stands up and stretches his arms and I find myself hoping that he’s not about to disappear off to start working on his bloody Land Rover again. Annoying as this conversation is, it’s quite nice being here in the kitchen together.
‘I still think you’re overreacting. Tell her what happened in the playground with Auberon and Benji and then let it go. And if she tries to get you to do anything that you don’t want to do then just refuse.’
Sometimes, the extent of Nick’s naivety is hard to fathom.
‘One does not simply “say no” to Allegra,’ I snap, shaking my head. ‘It’s not a word that she understands.’
‘Come off it, Hannah.’ Nick sighs loudly. ‘Just send her a message and let’s try to enjoy the evening. I’ve had a knackering week and I’ve spent the last five days stuck halfway up a tree with a chainsaw in my hand. Right now, all I want to do is chill out for a bit.’
‘Is there any more news on that forestry contract you were going after?’ I ask. ‘It’s been ages.’
‘Are you sending that message or not?’ replies Nick, and then my phone beeps again with another missive from Allegra, this time in the form of the praying hands emoji. She’s clearly getting desperate.
‘Fine.’ I swipe my screen and start to type. ‘As long as you’re aware that it won’t only be me who suffers. She’s currently on the search for a willing dad to dress up as Father Christmas for this year’s Festive Fete and I’ve heard a rumour that you’re in the running. This probably isn’t the time to raise your head above the parapet unless you’re prepared to spend five hours sweating in a cheap Santa suit while small children try to pull your beard off.’
‘Not a chance.’ Nick wrinkles up his nose. ‘You don’t seriously think that she’d ask me to do it?’
‘I do,’ I tell him. ‘I definitely heard her talking to one of the other mothers about how “that sexy tree surgeon” would be the perfect choice and as far as I know you’re the only parent who fits that description. Well, the tree surgeon part anyway.’
Nick scowls at me and I suppress a grin. ‘So I’ll send this message telling her that Auberon was yelling about his willy because as you said, it’s only the truth and it’s not that complicated.’
‘No!’ Nick darts across the kitchen and snatches the phone from my hands. ‘Are you insane? I’m not dressing up as sodding Father Christmas.’
I smile sweetly up at him. ‘So we’re on the same page then? We’re in this together?’
Nick grits his teeth and nods. And then we throw Benji under the metaphorical bus and write a penitent message to Allegra, apologising profusely for our son’s use of the word penis and assuring her that he will never use the correct terminology for that particular appendage ever again. And did we say how sorry we were?
‘I feel like a traitor,’ Nick says when we’ve finally pressed send.