I think Lando might have whipped out his phone and ordered one on the spot, had Daphne not chosen that moment to turn up in an ankle-length leopard print fur coat and a cloud of perfume. She kissed everyone warmly before slipping her hand into William’s and smiling girlishly at him.
‘All right, we’re all here,’ said Bunny. ‘Let’s go and find our seats.’
We navigated our way past all the stalls selling garishly coloured merchandise. I ushered the children along gently with reminders that the tickets themselves were the treat, only to realise once we reached our third-row seats that various members of the family had stopped to buy different items. The twins were, to their utter delight, promptly issued with sweets (William), spinning LED wands (Bunny), more sweets (Xander) and glow wand necklaces (Daphne). I couldn’t help laughing; their pleasure was so infectious.
‘Just please no one send them home with one of the ponies,’ I implored. I wouldn’t put it past any one of the Lords to be found by the stage door later in the evening arranging for that to happen.
There had been a certain amount of negotiation as to who was sitting next to who. William and Daphne deemed themselves inseparable, and both twins wanted to be next to their mother. Xander insisted on an aisle seat in case he needed to rush out on urgent business, and Pilar sat next to him. Seraphina voted to have Daphne on her other side, guessing – perfectly correctly, as it turned out – that she would continue issuing sweets from various pockets and her sequinned handbag as Phina’s own supply dwindled. Caspian, touchingly, wanted me next to him, so that meant Lando was on the end, and I had to have him on my other side. As we had been chattering and folding coats to tuck under seats, I could feel him watching me and eventually I turned to him.
‘You’re not still carving Mary, are you?’
‘Sorry, I was staring.’ He didn’t sound remotely contrite. ‘I like watching you with the children. You really love them, don’t you?’
I softened.
‘I do. I know it’s only been a handful of days, but they’re an eminently loveable pair, so funny and quirky and – well, perfectly adorable. Mind you, I like children very much in general – I couldn’t do my job if I didn’t.’
He opened his mouth as if he was going to say something else, but at that moment the lights dimmed and the safety curtain began to rise, revealing plush red curtains and a large sign hanging in front of them with ‘Cinderella’ in loopy, sparkling letters. All around me were giggles and whispers of ‘It’s beginning!’ and I settled myself down to enjoy the show.
It certainly didn’t disappoint. It was a panto in the best tradition, with all the old jokes and plenty of opportunities for the audience to join in. I was quite surprised to witness Lando’s gusto as he shouted, ‘It’s behind you!’ and booed the Ugly Sisters in their tall wigs and enormous, gaudy costumes. He roared with laughter at the cheesy jokes and gave every appearance of thoroughly enjoying himself. It was a marked contrast to the serious, almost grumpy, man I was used to seeing at the house. When the lights came up for the interval, I turned to him.
‘I wasn’t expecting you to be such a panto fan.’
He smirked.
‘Love it. I’ve always loved it. Shame it’s only once a year. Now, who wants ice cream?’
This was, predictably, met with a volley of excited shrieks from the twins, who swept everyone else up, so Lando soon had an order for eight ice creams, plus his own of course, although it was hard to imagine those toughened work hands pinching a tiny little spoon to eat up the mint choc chip.
‘I’m not going to remember all of these; I’m going to need some help.’
I can never stop myself.
‘I’ll give you a hand.’
He didn’t reply, just smiled and turned to edge his way along the row, leaving me to follow. I immediately regretted my willingness to volunteer as I shuffled after him. It had probably made me look all keen and puppy-eyed, but the truth was that I’m a natural helper and can’t stop my eager little hand popping up when the call goes out. No wonder I got walked over the whole time – I practically had ‘Welcome’ printed across my back.
‘Can you remember what everyone wanted?’
I had been so busy wallowing in my thoughts that I hadn’t realised we had reached the usher with his tray.
‘Oh, yes, I think so. Three vanillas, two chocolates, two strawberries and a salted caramel if they’ve got one, otherwise another vanilla. And whatever you’re having.’
‘Impressive.’
My stomach flipped pleasantly, and although I told myself he was merely impressed by my mother’s help skills, I couldn’t help but feel that little flutter of hope, of promise, that was fanning a long untended fire inside me.
We were finishing our ice creams as the curtains opened again, on the wonderful, glittering scene of the palace ball. Boosted by the sugar and the sparkle, I settled down to enjoy the second half, whilst unsuccessfully attempting to ignore Lando’s warm presence at my side. The arrival of the real Shetland ponies pulling the pumpkin carriage was so utterly adorable that I nearly managed it, but all too soon we had reached the singalong, and were nearly at the end of what had been a wonderful show.
‘Now, you gorgeous lot,’ said one of the Ugly Sisters, who was about six foot four, built like a wrestler and clad in a lime green ballgown decorated in flashing, multicoloured fairy lights. ‘It’s time for you all to join in.Iknowyouall know about my lovely coconuts, so don’t think you can get away with staying quiet. Everybody up!’
As we stood, a song sheet descended from the lighting rig with the familiar words. We sang obediently:
I’ve got a luverly bunch of coconuts
There they are a-standing in a row
Of course, our attempts were barracked and ridiculed in the finest panto tradition, but eventually it was time for the finale.
