Chapter Fifteen
Friday 6th December
Ashleigh – 34 Tilgate Road
Ashleigh’s alarm went off early the next morning. She didn’t need to go into work until eleven but she needed to get some more research done and work on her preliminary sketches for Beth’s dress. She’d made a start yesterday in her lunch break and they’d agreed for Beth to come on Sunday evening to look them over and choose one.
Nan was already in the kitchen directly beneath her room and to her surprise as she descended the stairs, she found there was a Christmas song playing on the stereo.
‘I thought this was a Christmas-music-free zone until a week before?’ she said as she joined her nan in the kitchen.
‘I’m not listening to Christmas music. I’m listening to Elvis.’
‘But Elvis is singing Christmas songs.’
‘Elvis could be singing about his ingrown toenail and I’d listen to it.’ Nan shrugged and stirred the pot on the hob, which was bubbling with porridge. Ashleigh grimaced at the thought and scooped Simon up as he came to greet her, rubbing his tummy and cradling him like the big baby he was.
‘Would you like some?’ Nan offered. ‘There’s plenty. I’ll throw some raisins and cinnamon in if you like.’
‘Thanks, Nan – I’m starving.’ Olivier’s concern that she hadn’t had dinner last night had been very sweet…and a touch ironic as he was the reason her tummy had been full of butterflies with absolutely no room for food.
Ashleigh set Simon back down on the floor and washed her hands before she laid the table for them. They moved around the kitchen quietly while Elvis warbled in the background, reaching a crescendo, and then they sat down together to eat.
‘I’m meeting Mary and the others at the coffee shop in a little while. Why are you up so early? I thought you’d be enjoying a lie-in after ice-skating.’
Ash explained about Beth’s dress and Nan’s eyes widened. ‘And when is Beth getting married?’
‘The 20th.’
Nan’s eyebrows shot up.
‘I know, I know.’ Ash worried at the edges of her porridge with her spoon. ‘It’s a tall order.’
‘It is. But I’m sure you wouldn’t have offered to do it if you didn’t think it was possible.’
Ash pressed her lips together and felt her heart rate kick up. She was crazy. She’d given herself two weeks to make aweddingdress.
‘Don’t panic, Ashleigh. I can be an extra pair of hands for the making. You know it’s the planning and design that’s the most important bit.’
‘Thanks, Nan,’ she said again and some of the tension released from her shoulders. Nan was the one who had taught her how to sew in the first place. She left most of the mending work to Ash these days because her eyes got tired quickly, but they’d spent many weekends working on things together in this very kitchen, Nan showing her how she could achieve the designs she’d cobbled together after leafing through magazines and why some things wouldn’t work with certain fabrics.
That’s why she knew the design would have to stay simple. If Ash wanted to make it something special for Beth, she’d have to find a clever balance that meant it could be done in time. No hand-stitching of sequins or delicate embroidery. She hoped Beth would understand.
‘How was your night out ice-skating? Romesh and James well?’
‘Yeah.’ Ash almost laughed when she thought of Ro’s ‘twisted ankle’. She was going to need to take him to task over that later, but she wouldn’t do it today. ‘Ro’s nervous about the final social worker visit. It’s today. Then the recommendation goes to the adoption board.’
Nan finished scraping at her bowl and gave a short sigh. ‘Always seems ridiculous to me that good people have to jump through all these hoops to adopt a child and yet any old idiotic straight couple with functioning reproductive organs can have however many kids they want, whenever they want.’
‘The assessments make sense. You can’t just hand a child over to anyone who wanders in off the street.’
‘I know that. But that’s my point. It’s not the assessment of people wanting to adopt, it’s the way there’s no assessment if you want to have a kid the standard way. Some people shouldn’t be allowed – they’re not fit to be parents. No clue about the responsibility it is.’
Ashleigh swallowed a big spoonful of porridge – the soggy lump sticking in her throat. ‘If that’s the measure I guess my parents would never have been allowed to have me.’
Nan eyed her and harrumphed. ‘Most likely not, but that isn’t the baseline, Ashleigh, believe me. There are worse parents out there than yours,’ she added grimly.
Ashleigh sighed and nodded again. As a retired nurse, Nan would have seen all sorts of heartbreaking things at the hospital. As she got older, Ash had always been able to tell when Nan’d had a particularly hard shift. She’d spend a little longer in bed and watch an Elvis movie when she got up and get them fish and chips for tea instead of cooking.
