Oh, That Was a Blip
– No way! Get out of here!
Margarets hands jerked the steering wheel, swerving so she narrowly avoided bumping into the car parked next to her own darling Mini. The big, dark Range Rover rolling past was unmistakable. How could Margaret not recognise her neighbours car, when every morning she popped her two boys into the back and hitched a lift to school via Mr. Toms daily route?
But there was something odd today. Next to Tom unmistakably him, since theyd known each other for ages sat not his wife, but a stranger.
Pouting lips and a snazzy beanie told Margaret plenty, if not the whole story.
– The cheek! Unbelievable! Margaret shot out from the car park, tailing Toms Range Rover, determined not to let such behaviour pass unanswered.
Like a detective heroine from one of her beloved British thrillers, Margaret let an Audi cut in front and nosed along behind, keeping Toms shedas he affectionately called his Range Roverin sight. Hard not to spot, really; it was bigger than her kitchen!
The vehicle had come from Toms father, and he clung to it sentimentally. Losing his dad over two years past, Tom was still not quite out from under that shadow. Theyd been closeToms mum had died when he was a toddler, and his father had single-handedly raised him.
Tom had been just two when his beautiful young mother let out a gasp, collapsed by the stove while making his breakfast, and never responded to his panicked tears. The little boy screamed until Toms dad, having dashed home after failing to reach his wife, found them and called for help. Far too late.
The blow was hard. A former boxer, Toms dad knew all too well what it was to have the wind knocked out of you, the world go dim. His world truly did, after his beloveds heart simply failedshed never once complained of poor health.
Toms dad refused to send him to either of the grandmothers, who lived far offmeaning Tom would rarely see his father. Both women were unwilling to move. Even the late wifes aunt, who worked in childcare and was desperate to have Tom, was gently but firmly turned down.
– Youre a man! You havent got time for all this. How will you cope? Its not right for a bloke! He needs watching every second!
– Im not sure yet, Toms dad admitted, always a realist.
– Give him to me, Ill take care! –
– But hell hardly see me. No, thats not right. Hes already lost his mum; I wont let him lose his dad too.
– Well, do think about it, Aunt June pursed her lips. The lad needs a woman. Surely you cant do it on your own.
He only stroked Toms head silently, avoiding a row.
But a solution arrived sooner than expected. Miriam, a recently retired neighbour, agreed to mind little Tom during the workday. Once nursery came around, things began to settle. Toms dad, who never remarried, gave his son every free moment.
Miriam had no husband or children of her own a mystery to all but herself and took Tom under her wing like he was her grandson. He adored her.
– Are you my gran?
– Not quite, Tommy. You know the names of your grannies! Im your nanny.
– Nanny? Is that a gran?
– Almost.
– You love me!
– I do, youre my favourite boy!
– Well, can you be my gran anyway?
How could she say no? With a quick chat with Toms dad and refusal to take any cash, Miriam agreed to Tommys request. Soon Tom had three grandmothers, causing a stir at nursery.
– Why so many, Tom? the teachers wondered, noticing his trio of cards for Mothering Sunday. But then they understood.
A few single teachers sighed quietly (or not so quietly) over Toms dad, but he had no intention of changing his life. His focus was raising Tom, something he did brilliantly.
Tom thrived: he finished school, sought his dads advice on university, and one day confided in Miriam:
– Why dont girls fancy me?
– Not fancy you? What about that time with Annie behind my window, eh? Miriam grinned.
– She dumped me. Said something was missing. Any idea what it was? I sure dont! Am I weird, Gran?
– Not at all, Tommy love. Youre smart, kind and thoughtful. You just havent met your one yet. Be patient. Look around shes close, youll see.
True enough, Miriam was right.
It was a quiet classmate, Jane, who helped with his coursework. Tom, already busy working in his fathers company whilst at uni, didnt notice how she watched him. Unlike the outgoing types he’d fancied the Annies of the world, whod declare their feelings first Jane was reserved, waiting and hoping.
In classic Miriam fashion, she engineered a meeting. Jane popped over to leave some notes and, after some dithering, found herself gently interrogated.
– Hes not dating anyone, Jane. Hes free. Do you like him, love?
Janes eyes told Miriam all she needed. Later, when Tom stopped in, Miriam gave him a grandmotherly cuff.
– Oi! Stop mucking Jane about!
– Whats this now, Gran?
– Jane, you numpty! Your happiness is staring you in the face.
Their wedding was small and simple, though Toms dad wanted something grand.
– Dad, Jane prefers it this way. Her mum will agree, but I dont want to embarrass her either. You know how little they have.
Toms dad viewed Janes mum, at first, with caution. His own mother-in-law had never forgiven him for losing her daughter so young, and for a while cut herself off from her grandson out of grief. In time, he helped Tommy forge a bond with his maternal gran, whose regret was a lesson to him.
– I never told your mum enough, Tom. Life moves too quick; I was busy, strict, never said I loved her as much as I should. Now its too late Help when asked. Be there! Not like me I wanted life for myself, now theres no one left.
These outpourings weighed heavily on Tom. He remembered his mother more from photos and stories than anything the touch of her hands gone from his memory. Just once, choosing a perfume for Miriam for her birthday, Tom followed a strange woman through the shop, drawn by a scent he somehow knew. When the assistant asked, the woman handed over the bottle.
– This one. Does it remind you of something?
It did. Tom took it home, and his dad filled in the blanks.
– Your mums favourite. Where did you find that?
From then on, it sat on Toms shelf, a near-lost thread back to his mother.
Toms dad neednt have worried about Janes mum. After seeing her daughter happy in marriage, she was as warm as anyone could hope. Contentment became the familys norm.
They were a tight-knit bunch. The parents dreamed quietly of grandchildren. Yet Tom and Jane, after years of trying and doctors visits, started losing hope. Their baby-longing became an ache. Until, one day, Miriam called Tom in for tea.
– Tommy, whats up?
– Nothings right, Gran. Both of us are healthy, yet nothings working. Janes nearly at the end of her rope
– Calm down! You two are too tense! Sometimes it just isnt the right time. Itll happen when its meant to.
– But why?
– Who marries just to have a baby? Do you love her?
– Of course, Gran! Thats not the point
– Then wait. Love each other as you are. Maybe the problems with you, not Jane.
– The doctors said everythings normal.
– Then give it time! Take a holiday, relax, and wait. You need patience, Tom. For yourself, Jane, and all the family because youre the anchor. If youre in bits, Janell feel it too, blame herself, as if shes broken.
– How do you know?
– Because Ive been there, love. I wanted children, but it never happened. Back then, there wasnt the help there is now. My partner wouldnt even marry me until he was sure I was expecting He loved the idea, not me, I realised later. But youyours is different. True love, real happiness. Just protect what youve built. The rest will come.
Tom took her advice to heart, worked on soothing things, and soon even Janes mum stopped bringing up children in every conversation.
Then, when they least expected itnearly ten years went byit finally happened. Tom spent the whole check-up fearing the worst, until the doctor declared:
– A baby! Youre going to have a baby!
It took a moment for Tom to understand. Jane was half-laughing, half-crying, pointing at the screen:
– Look, Tom! That tiny spot thats ours!
Their first was a strapping lad, nearly nine pounds; Jane, petite as she was, worked hard but was proud.
– Ill be back for the next one, so be ready! she winked at the midwives.
She had a girl next, then another boy, each time in the same hospital, with the same staff. After all the waiting, luck poured in, and the next children carried on without a hitch.
With the growing family, the flat Tom shared with Jane began to feel cramped.
– You need a house, Tom! his dad announced, hugging the grandkids close. Lets build!
They bought a plot easily enough, but construction dragged: the business took a knock in another downturn, and Tom and his dad poured their energy into keeping things afloat, postponing the house.
Then Miriam intervened.
– Ive got a three-bedroom, you and Jane have two. More space for you lot, less effort for me. Your dad and I talked; why not move in here? You renovated the place so well Ill be sorted for years. Were happy with two rooms each. I can watch over your dad, and it’s peace of mind for everyone. Think about it!
So thats what happened. Jane wrangled young children and baked for the household, Tom worked round the clock to rescue the business.
He managed it. But the strain took a toll on his dad, who finally sat Tom down.
– Im signing my flat over to Miriam. Youll inherit it in the end anyway, but since shes given her place for your lot, I want her secure. Lifes strange, son. You never know when your numbers up. Shes done more for us than I can say. Shes family, though we share no blood. Remember that.
– Sure, Dad, but whats this speech for?
– Just putting things in order.
Toms dad didnt get to see his fourth grandchild. Little Alex was born a month after he passed, and although he never knew his grandfather in person, the stories were told so often that Alex stuck his chin up whenever someone used his full name. Named after his granddad, after all.
And life rolled on, bump to bump, joy wrestled with sorrow. The children filled Tom and Jane with so much love it seemed you could warm the Arctic with the surplus.
Jane, sociable by nature, was choosy with friends. Margaret, another playground mum, became a true companion.
Margaret was Janes age, shared a love for books and theatre, and, like Jane, rarely had a chance to indulge. She had twin boys and sometimes felt like there were a dozen of them. Her mother and mother-in-law helped, but Janes friendship grounded her, making her treasure all the sticky-fingered hugs and first football goals even more.
Jane could keep a secret, and Margarets life overflowed with them. Her marriage was rockyhandsome, charming Peter was given to indiscretions. Margaret knew, but convinced herself all men did it. That thought was her comfort and allowed her to keep up appearances for her sons sake.
So when Margaret saw Tom with that curious girl, nothing would do but to warn Jane. She trailed the Range Rover through a twisting lane to a familiar little restaurantshe and Peter had dined there on date nights, the house jazz band gentle in the background.
Tom helped his guest from the car, and they vanished inside, leaving Margaret gnawing her lip: should she burst in and tell Jane, or wait it out?
The more Margaret considered, the more her determination faded. So what if she told Jane? Four children, a frail Miriam who now rarely left the flat, Janes mum with fading eyesight that Tom had taken to London to help restore too many unknowns. Who was this woman with Tom? It could be a fleeting thing, gone as quickly as Peters affairshere today, gone tomorrow, the names already forgotten, but families left in pieces.
She slammed the steering wheel in frustration, and a blare of the hornthanks to Peters modificationssent a flock of pigeons hurtling heavenwards.
The noise shocked Margaret back to herself. Tom was a rogue, to be sure, but werent all men? Why should Jane lose what she had?
Margaret left the car park and crawled home, muttering curses at every car in her way and wiping away tears that burned her cheeks.
No, she decided. She wouldnt say anything to Jane. Let them sort it out. Shed never forgive Peter if someone had told her outrightrumours are one thing, but to hear it plain, to know for sure Theres no coming back from being replaced, your cherished words and memories handed off to someone new. Words might seem trivial, but they mark out happinessand rearrange them, and you can lose your way, never to find a straight path home.
Margaret sat in the car a long time, mustering the strength to face her boys and dismiss the childminder whod long overstayed.
Toms call caught her off guard.
– Hi? When? All right, Tom, well be there. Thanks for inviting us!
Setting down her phone, Margaret patted her cheeks.
What on earth just happened? She’d only just seen him with another womannow she was invited to a party? She remembered, belatedly, that it was Tom and Janes anniversary a big, round number this year. Shed already bought a present for Jane, but shed never joined them; the couple always slipped away alone to celebrate.
Still, what was a friend for, if not to share in happiness?
She bought a new dress and shoes, did her nails, her hair, her make-up Peter, admiring her, winked:
– Why so glum? Well have an anniversary too, Ill throw you a proper knees-up!
Margaret turned away, fishing in her makeup bag.
Some party, she thought.
Tom had spared no detail. The room glowed with flowers, elegant candles, fine china, brilliant white cloths. Jane gasped at every turn, finding little surprises set out for her.
– Tom, the colours blue and silver! You remembered! Its beautiful, thank you! Jane, delighted, took Margarets gift and bouquet, then beckoned her away. Come, lets powder our noses!
The new ring gleaming on Janes finger made Margarets stomach flip.
Making up for his sins, is he That cost a fortune, she thought.
The ladies’ room was in the basement, so Margaret carefully lifted her hem as she descended.
– Need a hand?
A woman climbing up met Margarets gaze. Margarets heart thumped.
– You?!
– Sorry, do I know you? the woman frowned.
She looked quite different nowsharp suit, stylish short hair, sensible shoes.
– What are you doing here? hissed Margaret.
If Jane overheard shed never forgive herself for wrecking the party.
– Me? Im working.
The woman shot her the brightest grin, leaving Margaret speechless.
– Working?
– Thats right. I run a little events company Tom hired us for tonight. Our very first big job! Do you like how we decorated the hall?
Margarets fingers went numb, clutching at her skirt.
– Yes very much its beautiful.
– Oh good! Tom was worried we wouldnt finish in time. Even roped in my husband last night to help with flowers and fairy lights. I cant climb ladders, you see.
– Why? Margaret asked vaguely.
– Just found out Im expecting! Only a few weeks, frightening stuff. You got kids?
– Yes, two.
– Hard?
– Very Margaret felt the prick of tears, but this time, they brought a gentle warmth. Dont worry. You seem tough, and thats what you need. If you want a good obstetrician, let me know. Jane had all hers with him.
– All? How many does she have?
– Four!
– Blimey! Thats a heap of joy at once.
– It is.
– Sorry! the woman cocked her head, hearing music. Sounds like theyre starting! You coming?
– In a mo
As Margaret came up the stairs and pushed open the loo door, she beamed properly at Jane for the first time in a week.
– Jane! What on earth are you faffing for? Theyve just married you off again! Hurry up! Dont keep everyone waiting!
That whole evening, as glasses clinked and children recited rhymes, Margaret kept thinking how fragile happiness could be. One careless word, a hasty judgement or foolish accident could crumble everything you treasured.
A blip Margaret drained her champagne and turned to Peter, grinning. So, is ours sweet or bitter these days?
– Bitter still, Maggie! Still bloody bitter!
