I found 33 out of 45 mermaids’ tails, nearly three quarters, then ran out of time, though some were way off my bus or walking routes anyway. Some people apparently snapped them all on the first day! There was plenty for children to do at the farewell event, from games to painting their own tails. The whole event must have taken a lot of planning and a lot of artists. The final part will see all the tails auctioned off.
The home of Cousin Ruth stood out in the row of large Victorian terraced houses. The front garden was packed with raised beds of vegetables and wigwams of runner beans. Lottie had never had much success with vegetables so she was impressed. Before she could peer closer as Tilly and Wesley ushered her up the garden path, the front door flew open and dogs and children hurtled out.
‘Just stand still’ said Tilly, doing the same.
Wesley obviously knew the routine and swept up an escaping toddler, kicked the front gate shut and herded dogs and children through the front door.
‘Wait for the dust to settle’ added Tilly.
As the sound of barking receded Cousin Ruth emerged. She enveloped Lottie in layers of crocheted poncho and guided her inside, warning her to mind the toys. Lottie stepped over a huge dinosaur and dodged a strange lurid pink wheeled contraption. More dogs appeared and she would have been happy to pet them if she had been wearing casual clothes instead of one of her smart book launch outfits.
‘Come through, come through, Kizzy made you some cakes at Brownies.’
Lottie hoped the baking facilities at Brownies were cleaner than the kitchen she glimpsed through a half open door. She was led into a large sitting room where adults were gathered. Tilly appeared at her side.
‘Lottie is a famous author, I’ve read all her best selling novels.’
Nobody looked very impressed.
‘I don’t have time to read’ said Ruth.
‘Hey Lottie, did you hear the joke about the dumb blonde who was asked if she would like a book for her birthday… No thanks, I’ve already got one.’
‘Dad, you can’t say that, politically incorrect.’
‘But I like dumb blondes, I married one didn’t I?’
‘Down Flossie, sorry Lottie, she gets over excited, Bernie put the kettle on. Bernie is Geoff’s son, Geoff is husband number three, he has a large family too, but when he moved in here we weren’t expecting to both have adult children moving back in or to have grandchildren dumped on us. This is Oliver, husband number one, still good friends and Elspeth his wife, they both wanted to meet you and of course some of these grand brats are his as well. Sally did you order the pizzas, is that Dominoes you’re talking to?’
‘No, just booking my flight, I’ll do the pizzas next.’
In the midst of the confusion a child thrust a puppy into Lottie’s arms. It was undeniably cute and fluffy. Her handbag dropped to the floor, but at least she hadn’t dropped the puppy. She felt quite protective, how could this tiny being survive the tumult around it.
‘Sit down, sit down.’
Lottie was thankful to sink into a spot at the end of the sofa, a cosy corner of cushions and puppies as another tiny dog was placed in her lap. For a moment she thought longingly of her little cottage waiting for her return on Sunday evening, but as she looked around she realised she was experiencing life with a capital L. Life went on, it had not ceased when Callum died. Although her head was spinning she felt new ideas tumbling into her brain. Her next novel with the renegade vicar would feature love for real people; families tossed up into the air like a broken jigsaw and tumbling down into a different picture of blended families and romance for each generation. This family certainly seemed very happy.
As Lottie imagined her first chapter her thoughts were interrupted by a piercing scream and a child sobbing.
‘Granny, Tommy pushed her down the stairs, not me.’
Lottie clasped the puppies, she felt a maternal need to protect them from Tommy.
Ruth darted out into the hall and yelled up the stairs, hauled back a child from entering the adults only zone, then shortly returned with two mugs in each hand.
‘Is tea okay, Bernie forgot to ask what you like.’
‘Fine, fine’ said Lottie, wondering where she would put a mug or how she would hold it with her hands buried in warm puppies.
‘I’ll put it on the mantlepiece, we keep all hot drinks up there. Now, I hear that the fairies were a complete surprise, Callum never told you, he must have been in complete denial, which is a shame, because we would have believed him now we have seen them at the bottom of our garden.’
Lottie wondered if this was a joke, had the whole thing been an elaborate joke, but Ruth’s expression looked genuine so she couldn’t resist asking if she could see them.
‘It doesn’t really work like that, we have never told the children.’
‘That’s a relief… I mean I guess you need to protect them.’
‘That’s why we grow the veg in the front garden. When we bought this place we loved the long garden, even though it had run wild. I jokingly said I was going to look for fairies down the bottom of the garden and imagine my surprise when I saw them. We didn’t want to harm them, make the same mistake as Callum’s parents, so we built a wall across and never kept cats. Occasionally I see one on top of the wall watching when the children are playing in their part of the garden, I’m sure they wink and wave. In recent times we have put cctv up and observed them properly and secretly. We never told anyone and we tell new neighbours we are rewilding. Can you imagine scientists wanting to examine them or worse, fairieknappers…’
Charlotte paused, she was even beginning to believe in fairies herself. Was this for real? Her novel about Lottie was meant to be light hearted and fun and if people believed in angels and people used to believe in fairies…
Tilly was guarding the door as Ruth tapped her mobile phone then showed Lottie a picture. Little people, very tiny when you saw them under dandelions. Not like children’s Victorian books, actual miniature people, but with wings, genuine wings, they were flying. Lottie gasped and glanced at Tilly and Wesley, the only adults who were probably sensible.
‘Wesley, have you seen them, is this all for real?’
‘Well the Church of England doesn’t do Fairies but…’
‘They do angels’ said Tilly ‘so why not believe in fairies.’
‘Yes, all God’s creatures are entitled to their own lives so we have a sacred duty to protect them Lottie.’
‘Their secret is safe with me and I certainly won’t write them in my novels, I don’t think my readers’ credibility would stretch that far.’
Rory never tired of asking the same questions to delay bed time.
‘The adoption society said to us
Well Mr and Mrs Asimov, you will be pleased to hear you have been selected for the special programme. You should be welcoming a new family member very shortly. We have several potential sons who will thrive in your family. The next step is to visit Future Family Foundation on our open day next week.‘
‘Were you excited Mummy, was Daddy excited?’
‘We certainly were, but nervous as we did not know what the place would be like. But as soon as we walked in the door you came rolling up to us and said ‘Hello Mummy and Daddy’ and our hearts melted.’
‘But hearts can’t melt, if they did you wouldn’t work anymore.’
‘That’s just a saying Darling. We did not bother to meet the others, we just asked if we could have you.’
‘Did you take me home then?’
‘No, we had to have some sessions with your foster parents, getting to know you, do you remember that?’
’No, I just remember being in this house.’
‘Now it really is bed time, it’s getting late.’
‘Are you glad you got me.’
‘Of course, you made our family complete.’
‘Do you love me more than Chloe and Eliza?’
‘We love you all the same. Now, it’s time to say goodnight.’
‘Are you and Daddy going to die one day?’
‘Yes, but not for a long long time.’
‘Are Chloe and Eliza going to die one day?’
‘Yes, but not for an even longer time.’
‘Am I going to die one day?’
‘No Darling, you’re special.’
‘But who will look after me if you die?’
‘Chloe and Eliza and one day their husbands and their children, but you don’t need to think about that for years and years, now its time you were plugged in.’
‘Mummyyy… Chloe said she and Eliza are going to switch me off when you are dead.’
Karly King was not looking forward to her ninth birthday, too many presents and a big party at the local bowling alley. She didn’t even like bowling and everyone would be watching as she sent the glittering pink junior bowl straight into the gutter.
Everyone was up, she could hear her brothers fighting already and Dad was yelling Breakfast Readeee. Karly wondered what concoction he had come up with today; he was having a vegan phase, ever conscious of the need for new challenges. Her mother was exempt from the vegan menus as she was pregnant.
Breakfast in pyjamas as it was her birthday, new pyjamas chosen to look good in the photos. Her parents had gone completely over the top as usual and the big family kitchen was adorned with number nine balloons and Happy Birthday Girls banners everywhere. Why did she have to share her birthday, how she longed to be an only child. Out of habit she put on her video face and smiled.
‘Last one down as usual Karly, just like when you were born. Happy Birthday Darling, our little miracle.’
The breakfast was quite nice. Karly smiled to herself as she spotted the flattened ‘Happy Earth Breakfast’ delivery box peeking out of the recycling bin.
‘Lovely breakfast Daddy.’
She would not give the game away, everything in her family must appear real and of course HAPPY.
At school other children envied her family, either wanting to be best friends or teasing them mercilessly. Karly only had one real friend, shy little Betty who lived in a pokey flat with her abandoned mother. She loved visiting Betty as she was treated like a normal child and neither mother nor daughter asked her how the rest of her family were. Betty was too scared to go round to Karly’s house and Karly guessed her protective mother would not let her anyway. The rest of the family did not even know Betty existed, everyone assuming Karly was with one of the others if they noticed she wasn’t at home.
At the breakfast table everyone was debating who would do best at the bowling alley. They had all been practising so they would look good on the day. Her sisters were arguing as to who was going to wear which colour to the party. Identical outfits, lurid leggings and jazzy tops with matching patterns, but each a different colour scheme, had been made by their personal designer. If Karly ever tried to complain about the family lifestyle she would be reminded it was their living and how envious other girls were and how Karly would not like being poor.
It was not easy being a sextuplet, especially in the middle of a huge family whose lives had been documented since before the girls were born, with a few changes of television channel along the way. Six Children Plus Six More had been a big hit, with viewers fascinated how parents who already had six children had found themselves expecting sextuplets. Then before interest could wain, twin boys were on the way. The six girls were Mrs Knight’s only caesarean delivery; quintuplets had been expected, but Karly had been found lurking at the back, the tiniest of the bunch and not expected to live, adding gravitas to the series.
Mr and Mrs Knight gazed lovingly at their huge family, they did love all their children, even if they couldn’t remember their names. It was not easy competing with all the other Big Family documentaries, Twenty Two Children and Counting, Twins Every Time, Tripple Tripple Trouble and Conjoined,The Family That Sticks Together. So it seemed natural to keep having more babies and thinking up more domestic dramas. It was unfortunate that the new headmaster at the primary school had banned cameras; rather hypocritical as the production company had given a lot of books, musical instruments and other extra curricular items to the school. But at least the first programme in series ten would have the annual drama of the birthday party, the Hollywood Bowl taken over completely by the family with two guests for each child. Excitement on the lanes would be followed by the ‘Fantastic Feast’ then over to the park for the girls’ birthday surprise, a pony each.
It’s my third birthday tomorrow. I don’t know why I suddenly had to come and stay with Granny or where Mummy and Daddy have gone. Maybe they went to buy my birthday present, maybe they have gone to get my puppy. I really want a puppy like Jacob has, a Doodle puppy. I keep asking, but Mummy and Daddy just smile and ask me if I would like a brother to play with instead. I said no, I would rather have a puppy.
Will they be back in time for my birthday?
Granny’s taking me home. We stopped at the petrol station to buy flowers for Mummy. I don’t know why, it’s not her birthday.
Daddy opens the door with his smiley face on.
‘Guess what Luke, we have a really big surprise for your birthday.’
Hurrah, I’m going to get a puppy, a big puppy like Jacob’s. I rush into the living room. Mummy’s lying on the sofa in her dressing gown, maybe we’re having a pyjama day, but I’ve got my clothes on, Granny never lets me have pyjama days. The puppy must be in the garden.
‘Happy birthday darling, aren’t you going to come and give me a cuddle?
Granny’s peering into a big flowery bag next to the sofa. She has a silly grin on her face.
‘Don’t you want to see your birthday surprise Luke’ says Mummy.
‘Is it a Doodle puppy?’
‘Why don’t you have a look.’
Daddy, Granny and Mummy all have their arms round me, I nearly fall into the bag.
Inside is a blanket, is the puppy wrapped up? There is something pink, a round pink blobby thing. It’s a squidgy face, yuk…
‘It’s your new baby brother.’
WHAT! They said would I like a brother to play with, they didn’t say he would be a baby.
‘Have I got a puppy as well?’
‘No Darling, we’ll all be too busy looking after the baby to have a puppy yet. Perhaps when you’re both big boys.’
‘I am a big boy, you said I would be a big boy when I’m three.’
‘Do you want to help choose his name’ says Daddy.
‘No, he doesn’t need a name yet.’
The squidgy baby is making a noise, ow, my ears. Everyone is laughing except me and making a big fuss as if crying is clever. What is Mummy doing now?
‘Look, Mummy’s giving baby his breakfast.’
What sort of breakfast is that, wouldn’t he rather have Cheerios. I wonder if I’m going to get any other presents, like Lego. I wonder if Jacob would swap. Perhaps his mummy would like a baby and we could have his puppy.
It sounded perfect, John’s dream job and a move to the countryside. Polly did not want to go, though she cheered up a little when we explained she didn’t have to leave her toys behind.
I’m not sure what I expected, I should have realised a secret research station would have a fence round it, a strong fence, an ugly fence that jarred with the surrounding landscape. When John said we would be living in the old lighthouse he forgot to mention it was inside the fence.
We had moved in such a hurry, John was caught up in the excitement of being head hunted and my head was in such a whirl I had not queried why they wanted him so urgently. My penniless sister was delighted to leave home and move into our house with her boyfriend and look after the cat.
The turning on to the private gravel road was not easy to find, but that added to the excitement of our journey. Bye Bye West London suburb, hello West Country. We weren’t even sure if we were in Devon, Cornwall or Somerset, but I didn’t care as autumn trees gave way to beautiful rugged moorland. The gravel road soon gave way to a bumpy track, but we knew we were going the right way as there were signs with large red writing at frequent intervals.
PRIVATE LAND
THIS AREA IS COVERED BY CCTV
IF YOU DO NOT HAVE CLEARANCE TURN AROUND NOW
IF YOU ARE LOST PHONE THIS NUMBER IMMEDIATELY AND AWAIT INSTRUCTIONS
SECURITY PASSES NEEDED IN 100 YARDS
Perhaps I should have asked John what they actually did at the research station and what he was going to do. I fumbled in my bag for my phone, I wanted to send pictures of the signs and impress everyone back home. When John realised what I was doing he nearly ran the car off the track.
‘I told you we had to leave phones at home.’
‘We wouldn’t have found our way here without my smart phone.’
‘I thought you were following the map I gave you.’
‘Map, how am I supposed to read that paper map.’
‘You’ll have to surrender your phone at the gate.’
‘You are joking, how am I supposed to live without it and how can Polly play her games?’
‘I thought you were looking forward to getting away from it all?’
‘That’s beside the point; what do they actually do here that is so secret?’
‘The whole point of secret research is that it is secret and the last people you tell are wives and little daughters.’
At last we reached a double set of huge gates with actual sentry boxes, it was rather exciting and I sneaked out my phone hoping I could get one quick shot of the guard, but a uniformed arm suddenly shot through the open window and grabbed my phone. Luckily Polly was asleep and missed this scary moment.
The decommissioned lighthouse was not as romantic as I had imagined, though inside it was quite homely. We could just about glimpse the sea from the tiny top window, no wonder it had not been a success as a lighthouse.
‘Unicorn doesn’t like this place Mummy.’
‘He’ll get used to it Polly, unicorns are very brave.’
‘Mummy’s right, tomorrow we can all go exploring.’
There was an inner fence around the research buildings and more security gates, there was enough land for a good walk, but I wanted to see the sea, take Polly down to the beach. John was as flummoxed as me. First thing to do was find some of John’s colleagues, discover who else lived here and where the shops were.
All my questions were met with loud guffaws from a chap who looked more like a trawlerman than a research scientist.
‘Shops… you did bring plenty of supplies? Beach… don’t you let your little one anywhere near the cliff edge. Nursery, pre school… well there are a couple of other kiddies around, but you best be asking Maggie.’
The soothing distant sounds of the sea on our first night were replaced by howling winds on the second. I didn’t know how John could sleep so soundly. I tip toed out to check on Polly. For a moment my blood ran cold, yes that saying is true. Polly was not in her bed, nor was Unicorn. With relief I saw her at the round window, face pressed against the glass, Unicorn had his horn squashed against the window.
‘Polly, you’ll get cold, come back to bed.’
‘Mummy, Mummy, Unicorn likes it here now, he’s got a new friend, come and look, please.’
I could see nothing but total darkness outside, the wind was even louder.
‘Oh, he’s gone, I hope he hasn’t flown away. Unicorn wants us to go outside and find him.’
‘No Polly we can’t go outside, it’s night time.’
‘Unicorn says he only comes out at night.’
‘Did you see an owl?’
‘No Mummy, don’t be silly, come outside and you will get a big surprise.’
We were supposed to be having adventures and on such a well guarded sight there could be no dangers lurking. Out we crept; Polly was not at all scared of the dark, even though she couldn’t sleep without a night light at home. I saw the glow first and assumed it was security coming round with torches and hoped we wouldn’t get told off.
‘Mummy, there he is.’
Her hand gripped mine, but she was shaking with excitement not fear and pulling me towards the impossible sight.
‘I want to ride him, Unicorn wants a ride, can I go flying… come on Mummy, pleeese…’
Her hand slipped out of mine as she clung onto her cuddly Unicorn and darted towards the creature glowing in the dark. Its horn glowed pink, his flowing mane was rainbow colours… I almost laughed to see a racehorse size version of Polly’s cuddly unicorn, but unlike Polly’s toy this was a replica of the dream figure she wanted for Christmas, a winged unicorn. Finer than any plastic figure, he was magnificent, but what was I thinking, this wasn’t real, I must be dreaming. As I shook my head and tried to wake up I saw Polly was seated on his back, still clutching her cuddly toy.
Look Mummy we’re flying, bye bye Mummy…’
Gracefully the creature soared into the sky and was soon a tiny dot. I rushed back inside, I must have been sleep walking. Once I saw Polly safely asleep in bed then I would know it was a dream and how Polly and John would laugh in the morning when I told them my dream.
Polly’s bed was empty and cuddly Unicorn was gone.
A piercing scream rent the air, a blood curdling cry that penetrated Jennifer’s brain and shattered what was left of her nerves. Instinctively she covered her ears and prayed for silence. For a moment there was blissful silence as the victim drew breath.
‘But I wanted to open my banana myself’ cried the little boy.
For the umpteenth time that day Julia wondered why on earth her brother Gerald thought she would enjoy looking after her great nephews for a few hours. What had possessed her to agree?
With her nerves already torn to shreds she had absent mindedly started to unpeel the fifth and last banana of the bunch. The two boys had constantly pleaded hunger since lunch and had not believed she had no Monster Munch or Peppa Pig yoghurts in her house.
One more hour to go, how to distract them…
Across the floor were strewn the toys they had brought from home, quickly abandoned after fierce arguments as to who owned which Lego figures. Drawing had resulted in a nasty stabbing, obviously a mistake to sharpen the pencils. The cat had been a distraction for a few seconds until it fled to hide under her bed.
There was always the last resort, television, totally against her principles turning them into zombies staring at a screen, but needs must. However, when she looked in the Radio Times she could find no young children’s programmes, what was the matter with the BBC, what happened to Blue Peter?
The doorbell rang at last.
‘Is that Grandad?’
Julia looked at her watch, a few minutes early, supposing it wasn’t Gerald, but the window cleaner coming for his money or her new curtains being delivered…
We had our second, proper Christmas on Tuesday 28th as Team H felt well enough to drive 180 miles on Monday and had negative results. People still get coughs, colds and winter lurgies nothing to do with Covid. It would have been a waste of totally rearranging and child proofing the house if they couldn’t have come at all! With my son and daughter-in-law living with me it has tripled ( octupled? ) the amount of equipment needing protection from three and six year old boys, not to mention the mountain of Christmas presents they had given each other.
Traditional chocolate Christmas cake.
A favourite children’s present, sent by Nanna in Spain via Amazon, turned out to be very popular. Seasick Sam is a game, along the same idea as Buckaroo, but they just liked playing with Sam. You see how much food you can stuff in his mouth before he is sick. We five adults had Secret Santa with all presents to be bought locally or in charity shops and we all came up with a great selection.
Writing did not take a back seat as six year old wanted to write his own Frightened Freddy Lego story and being six it revolved around vomiting, with Seaside Sam having a starring role and toilets. We took lots of screen shots and edited the pictures on the computer. When I suggested we start writing the story he said ‘I think I’ll make the story longer…’ who would be an editor!
The next day we edited more photos and whittled them down to 33. Then he narrated and I typed, no easy task with someone who bounces around like Tigger the whole time, whilst leaning on my desk… We printed it out and sent the photos to his mother’s ipad in time for the deadline of going home .
The back door flew open to reveal my husband dressed in his bright holiday shorts and business shirt and tie.
‘Where did you think I was, I told you we were going to fill up the paddling pool.’
‘Nice to be some…’ said Tom.
‘Come and join us later, surely you’re allowed a break?’
‘Depends how long the conference call goes on for, I just came to tell you we’re out of coffee.’
Covid had a lot to answer for, especially the idea of working from home.
‘Can’t you get it, I can’t leave the little ones with the water. Why don’t you have a cup of tea or a smoothie for now?’
Tom spluttered in disgust.
‘A green broccoli smoothie is not going to get me through that conference call… anyway you know what we always get.’
‘Okay, you stay out here and keep an eye on the hose and the children… and put your phone away.’ I dropped my voice and mouthed ‘it only takes a minute for a child to D.. R.. O..W.. N.’ then raised it ‘Oscaar… hose in the paddling pool not on Daddy.’
‘Don’t be long’ pleaded Tom.
‘Do you want the variety box, latte, expresso, americano…?
‘Yes, yes the biggest box they do.’
I went upstairs, pausing on the landing to look out the window and make sure Tom had not forgotten he was in charge. The hose was now snaking out of control across the lawn. In my so called office I logged in to Coffee Zone, repeat order, multi pack, check delivery times… Yes, coffee would be here in time for his bloody conference call. What did they actually do on conference calls? Probably played X Box like my forty year young brother. I had no idea what Tom actually did at work when he went to the office every day and now he worked from home I was still none the wiser. Whatever he did he had been head hunted a couple of times and with the amount he got paid I didn’t mind spoiling him. My on line upcycling craft business hardly brought in enough to feed the dog and the cat.
I looked at my watch, twenty minutes to get ready for the coffee. I dashed back into the garden.
‘Tom, where’s the dog?’
‘You only told me to look after the children.’
‘ZEUS, ZEuus…’
I waved a packet of dog treats and Zeus bounded out of the herbaceous border, he was soon locked in the laundry. The children would be harder to get under control.
‘Ten minutes then indoors.’
‘But we haven’t done paddling yet.’
‘Why don’t you come in and watch Octonauts and have some parsnip crisps while the sun is warming the water. Then you can come back out after the coffee has arrived.’
With the children safely indoors I still had to find the cat, but there was no time to look. Hearing Zeus’ frantic barking I rushed back in and locked the door, the dog always heard it before me. Keeping watch through the patio door I saw a glint over the trees. 10.45am, exactly on time. The Coffee Zone Drone circled, I hoped it’s aim would be better this time. My stomach lurched as, too late, I saw a familiar black and white shape slink across the lawn then freeze as the warning siren started. The drone was higher than usual when its undercarriage opened, the large bright orange box dropped down onto the lawn, narrowly missing the paddling pool. I dashed out, but as I got close my mouth went dry. Sticking out from under the hefty box was a black tail. I knew from previous deliveries the box was too heavy to lift on my own and I was thankful to hear Tom’s voice. I turned to see him holding the cat and laughing.
‘He’s a quivering wreck, he doesn’t like drones does he?’
My relief was short lived, had we killed the neighbour’s cat?
‘Quick, lift the box.’
I closed my eyes. When I opened them Tom was holding up the squashed body of the shabby toy cat the children had insisted on buying from the charity shop.
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