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I giggle at the expression on Robert’s face but am saved from answering, or demonstrating what we rehearsed, as the children start filing in from the door at the back of the room.
I search eagerly for Brad and Angelina and my heart melts when I spy Brad looking amazing in his shepherd’s costume while the other two beside him are like the poor relations.
Sable claps her hands. “There he is. That’s my boy.” She beams as she turns to the woman behind her and points to Brad. “He’s such an angel.”
I cringe in embarrassment at the slightly startled expression on the woman’s face, and yet I experience a warm glow when Brad offers Robert a beaming smile as he passes. My hands shake as I record the moment and I experience a lump in my throat when Angelina pirouettes in like a star in the Moulin Rouge, swinging her feather boa like any good stripper and flashing her French knickers as she goes.
“My God.” The woman behind us exclaims as she passes and Sable turns and says loudly, “Isn’t she a darling? You would never know she was wearing my finest lingerie.”
Once again, the woman looks astonished and I’m guessing she will need a lie down after this and I may well join her. Then as I catch Robert’s heated look thrown in my direction, I can only think of one person I would rather be lying down with, and I cross my legs and count to ten and hope this is over soon because I may combust before too long.
The play begins and I’m struggling to see any similarities to the real nativity at all. It appears that every avenue has been covered as Mary is renamed ‘M’ not to be confused with James Bond’s superior and she is referred to as ‘They’. Joseph rides in on a motorbike wearing a dress and I’m beginning to understand why Jesus’s creation was considered an immaculate conception. The wise men are suddenly wise women who storm in with swords like Boadicea. The manger is plastered with a certificate stating it has been sanitised for Covid and the Angel Gabriel is wearing a face mask.
I am now deeply disturbed by the whole thing and the slightly cringy way the teacher is acting out all the parts and mouthing the words in an exaggerated way, makes me want to stand up and object that the birth of Christ is being misrepresented in the most politically correct of ways.
“Wow, things have changed since I was at school.” Robert nudges me, looking a little bemused by the whole thing and his father leans across his mother and says loudly, “What the hell is this?”
I shrivel in my seat as Sable slaps him away and says fiercely, “Don’t make a scene, David. You promised.”
He sits back wearily in his chair and closes his eyes as his wife beams with pride when Angelica steps forward to sing the song they were practicing last night.
The spotlight falls on her and I grip the phone hard, determined to record this moment for her doting parents who, sadly, can’t be with us on this occasion.
As she starts to sing, it restores my faith in the magic of Christmas because the lights dim, and the projector makes it appear that the snow is falling on the manger. She sings Oh Little Town of Bethlehem and I’m certain there isn’t a dry eye in the house as everyone stares at her in trance like amazement. She stares into my phone as if she’s singing directly to her parents, causing a lone tear to escape from my right eye that I whisk briskly away.
Robert edges a little closer and his knee touches mine and then his hand and as I glance down at it resting on my leg, I am awash with emotion. Why is fighting him so hard? It’s becoming a full-time occupation because I’m battling myself more than him because I want this. I want him and the sooner I discover the identity of his would-be murderer, the better because I am teetering on the edge of surrender and preparing to wave my white flag.
CHAPTER32
ROBERT
Ashocked silence stays with us all as we exit the school hall and I feel the stares follow us as we go. My mother appears to have been silenced for once and my father’s face is like thunder. Jessica has apparently lost the power of speech and I almost considered carrying her over my shoulder because who saw that coming?
As soon as Angelina finished her song, she burst out crying and pointed to Jessica, shouting, “I miss you mummy, please don’t leave us. I promise to be good.”
Brad then rugby tackled his sister, shouting, “Shut up! They’re on holiday, stupid, they’re coming back.”
The teachers dived in like a rugby scrum and all around us were the murmurs of ‘disgusting’, and ‘who abandons their children at Christmas’ and ‘I heard they’re in prison’. I had to physically restrain Jessica from punching the entire lot of them and it was only when the children were forcibly removed from the room that Jessica was called to calm them down and explain what was happening for safeguarding reasons.
We were left with reassuring smiles on our faces, wondering how long to leave it before making a dignified exit. The fact Angelina’s lingerie escaped the safety pin that was supposed to be holding it in place was a cringe worthy moment, when her French knickers fell to the floor, but luckily the camisole was long enough to prevent her eternal embarrassment. Mum didn’t help much by nudging my father and yelling loudly, “That wouldn’t be the first time they came down, would it David?”
In fact, she appeared to find the whole scene hilarious, but that hilarity soon died when the comments started and she glared at me fiercely, whispering, “Is this true, did they abandon their children and why did Angelina believe it was because of them?”
“Were they really arrested?” My father added, and I tried to blank the whole thing out and pretended to take a call on my phone instead.
* * *
The teachers decidedit would be best if Brad and Angelina returned with us and as we all head back to the happy house, we do so in silence.
As soon as we head inside, Jessica sends the children off to change and throws me a despairing look.
“That was awful. Whatever must your parents think?”
My parents certainly left fast enough and yet I couldn’t care less what they think. It’s what Jessica’s thinking now that’s my main concern.
She seems so beaten, almost on the verge of giving up and nothing like the woman I first met, and I surprise myself more than her when I open my arms and smile. “Come here.”
The slight pink tinge to her cheeks makes me doubt myself, but as she moves closer and my arms wrap around her, I nuzzle the top of her head and whisper, “Everything will be OK. Your sister and her husband will no doubt be released tonight, and we can return to scoring points off each other by morning.”
