Jacob was hovering in the doorway. ‘Malcolm in my class said that the other day and got suspended.’
Deep breath in. ‘Well Malcolm shouldn’t say it. And I shouldn’t either, I apologise.’ The best thing to do was not focus on it, move on. She was sure she’d read that in a parenting manual over the years. ‘Did you do your French homework?’
‘I hate French.’
‘That wasn’t what I asked.’
‘Yes, I finished.’
‘That was quick.’
He shrugged. ‘Only had to learn twenty words.’
‘I’ll be upstairs to test you in half an hour.’ That did it. He didn’t linger. The thing with Jacob was he did do his homework, but he’d do the bare minimum to get by unless he had an extra push. Fern remembered helping Daisy when she was around the same age andstuck with her maths homework. Daisy hadn’t been at all interested in the subject, which made it all the more difficult, but Fern liked to think she’d helped enough. Sometimes she forgot those moments, the tiny memories that made up the tapestry of childhood and family and could easily be lost.
Despite the missing report and the work she had to do nagging at the back of her mind Fern managedto help Jacob learn the rest of the vocabulary before she heard Everett come in downstairs.
‘Delivery for you,’ he indicated when she joined him in the kitchen. He’d put a package onto the table. ‘Must’ve come when you were upstairs. They left it at the front door.’
She tutted. ‘I wish delivery drivers wouldn’t do that. I was here all the time, I would’ve heard if they’d bothered to knock.’
He glugged back a glass of water. ‘What is it anyway?’ He gave her a peck on the cheek as she used scissors to open the top of the box.
‘Outdoor festoon lights for the garden.’
‘Whatever for?’
‘For the Christmas party.’
‘We’re doing that again this year?’ He refilled his glass.
‘I told you I’d sent out the save the date cards. And we do it every year.’
‘Exactly.Wedo it every year. We invitethe neighbours, we supply a lot of the food and drink,weclean up after they’ve all gone home for a rest.’
She shook her head and couldn’t hold back a sigh. ‘It’s Christmas, it’s neighbourly.’
‘So let someone else do it.’
‘OK, Grinch.’ Her attempt at humour fell flat.
‘I’m going for a shower.’
‘Fine,’ she said as though she was thirty years younger and having an argument with her sistersover who had to do the drying up or set the table for dinner.
Fern’s stress levels had already risen after the phone call with her boss and now her husband hadn’t helped. But instead of dwelling on it Fern went online and ordered the invites – just enough plus a few spares because she’d hate to forget anyone. What was wrong with putting on a party for the neighbours, anyway? It was a nice thingto do, wasn’t it? And Everett always had a good time.
When Everett finally came back downstairs she’d just taken another couple of deliveries and left them in the hallway.
She heard him cry out and swear from where she was sitting in the dining room. ‘You OK?’
He just looked at her. He’d stubbed his toe on one of the boxes – the case of wine for the Christmas party. ‘I’ll live. What are these?’
Did she have to explain everything? ‘A case of wine and the other is a box of wine glasses.’
‘Perhaps we should’ve asked the neighbours to bring their own if we don’t have enough,’ he moaned.
Her mouth fell open. ‘Who has a party and says bring your own glass?’ He’d lost all sense. ‘And it’s not that we don’t have enough, it’s that a lot of the ones we do have are a bit worn or don’t match.I want everything to look perfect when people arrive. I’ll have the beautiful gold tablecloth, everything arranged, food on the matching white serving dishes.’ She went to her husband’s side and put a hand on his arm. ‘You’ll enjoy yourself and have a wonderful time, I know you will.’
