The Christmas Surprise
Page 53

‘Not at all!’ said Tina, beaming. ‘Look!’
And she showed Rosie the latest edition of a glossy weddings magazine (which Rosie couldn’t help being at least slightly interested in). Emblazoned across the cover was the strapline ‘THE YEAR’S MOST FASHIONABLE CHOICE – SHABBY CHIC AND FISH AND CHIPS!!!’
‘It’s the newest thing!’ beamed Tina. ‘Apparently hotel weddings with salmon and place setting are really old hat! Now you need old-fashioned surroundings, lots of bunting … look!’
She flicked to a piece that explained how you could hire an authentic-style old-fashioned fish and chip van for ‘only a few thousand pounds’. Rosie burst out laughing. ‘I think Stan’s a bit cheaper than that.’
‘Exactly,’ said Tina, her face pink with happiness. ‘It’s going to be the coolest wedding ever. Look, they’ve even got bales of straw in to sit on!’
‘Well, Jake can get a few of those!’
‘Exactly!’ Tina said again.
Her joy was infectious. Rosie hugged her.
‘Are you sure—’ began Tina.
‘No!’ said Rosie. ‘For the last time, Apostil is not being the ring-bearer. He’ll eat it or spew on it. That’s what he does!’
Tina sighed.
‘But he was going to be my something borrowed!’
Rosie gave her a look. At least one thing was falling into place. She couldn’t bear to think of what had happened yesterday.
‘No. No no no NO. Dammit.’
Rosie had stared miserably at the floor.
‘I don’t know what other choice we have.’
‘Here’s the choice we have. I don’t leave my job, which I love; you don’t leave your job, which you love; we don’t leave this village, which we love, and we work it out.’
Rosie blinked.
‘I’ve thought and thought and thought, and I just don’t know how. Go live with your mother?’
Stephen swore copiously.
‘We need to be near the hospital,’ said Rosie. She’d spoken to the consultant that Hye and Moray had both recommended and she seemed excellent. She had walked past the school one day and seen the children hanging off the monkey bars and screaming and running and throwing balls. Apostil would be able to do all of those things with a prosthesis. But they had to put the effort in, she knew. It wasn’t a simple procedure, and it was a long and complicated rehab. But with all her nurse’s soul she knew it was worth it, and she couldn’t work out why Stephen was being so stubborn about admitting it.
‘In some grotty, cramped little house?’
‘It’s a house,’ said Rosie. ‘You’re just being a snob.’
‘Fine,’ Stephen had snarled. ‘Call me a snob if that solves everything. Tear us away from our entire lives so you can chop his hand off. Go for it.’
‘It’s not like that!’
The doorbell had rung, and Rosie had opened it without thinking. Standing there fiddling with her red spectacles was Joy. It took everything Rosie had not to swear.
‘Ah, the father, I presume,’ twittered Joy. Rosie looked at her. She wasn’t normally this friendly.
Stephen looked at her in a hostile fashion.
‘Who are you?’
‘I’m from social services. Just checking up on Baby!’
‘Oh for Christ’s sake,’ said Stephen, turning away. ‘Great. Just what we need. You’ll be pleased, Rosie, she’ll probably be on your side.’
‘It’s not about sides,’ protested Rosie. ‘We’re all on the same side. Doing what’s best for our son.’
‘Yes, except what you think is best for our son is growing up in a dump and chopping off his fucking hand.’
‘STEPHEN!’
Rosie had literally never been so cross with him. She could have thrown something at him. Apostil started to wail.
‘Don’t mind me,’ said Joy, in a voice that was meant to be calming. ‘But babies often pick up on tension in the household.’
‘Well I shall leave the household then,’ said Stephen, picking up his satchel. ‘Let the coven get on with it.’
‘AND HE’S NOT WEARING THAT DRESS!’ shouted Rosie after him, still incoherent with rage. All she got in response was a slammed door.
There was a long pause. Rosie tried to soothe Apostil. Great tears plopped from her eyes on to his soft curly head. Joy made no effort to comfort her, simply made more notes on her iPad.
‘Um, tea?’ said Rosie eventually.
‘No thank you,’ said Joy, pressing a button emphatically.
‘Are you … I mean, what are you doing? Are you making a report?’
‘We always make reports,’ said Joy.
She glanced at her watch.
‘Right, I must get on. Do you think you can keep things calm for Baby? I can send a team in if needs be.’
‘NO!’ said Rosie. ‘No, we’re fine! We’re fine, just … I mean, we’re fine.’
‘Is he coming back?’
‘What do you mean? Of course he’s coming back.’
Stephen leant heavily on his stick as he walked crossly down the main street. People hailed him as he went, but one look at his lowered brow and they quickly marched on. Old habits died hard round Lipton. He took a sharp right and headed up the hill.
Even though he couldn’t bear to admit it, he knew deep down that Rosie was right; that trying to pretend that everything would be okay with Appy’s arm was not going to get them anywhere. The idea of uprooting their lovely life, away from the fresh air and the outdoors and home, and moving to somewhere noisy and hemmed in and full of stress and pressure … Stephen squeezed his eyes tight shut. Well, if they had to do that, at least he ought to get paid.
He came back an hour later. Joy, thank God, had gone, but Rosie was still cross with him. He knew this because she told him straight out.
‘I’m still very cross with you.’
‘Isn’t that what you say when you want to kiss and make up and then have sex so that everything’s all right again?’ he attempted.
Rosie shook her head.
‘No! And I can’t believe you think that being high-handed with someone who can take away our son and put him in a home is some kind of a joke.’
Stephen kissed Apostil fiercely.