Page 105 of Has Anyone Seen My Sex Life?
We leave the pissing donkey to peer our heads into the hall. Stu loves the attention so is standing there like a ringmaster, buttering up a few of the mums who’ve partaken in a fair bit of the slow cooker wine. There’s a lot of giggling and ruddy faces of people who should know better as their husbands are only outside manning the barbecue. Such is the draw of young Master Morton. One of the mums looks a bit familiar and I realise it’s Jo McArthur.
Danny looks on slightly perturbed. ‘Lad needs to tread careful there. If he goes after the headteacher’s wife, I’ll bloody kill him.’
Polly’s face bounces between us trying to understand the conversation. One day she’ll be verbal and recount all the gory details of the last six months: the giant blue dildo, the time she saw paintings of her dad’s willy on the kitchen table. Joanne McArthur wears a posh Christmas jumper that you know is a cashmere mix, with well-fitting jeans and fancy boots. She’s got a rubbish swing, so Stu does what he shouldn’t and stands behind her, holding her arm to demonstrate. Bloody hell, Stu. He knows far too much and can’t help but indulge in a bit of shit-stirring. We look on in the same way one would a car crash as she erupts into fits of giggles. Mike McArthur looks on as he sells raffle tickets. He’s gone for a more casual Santa hat look with the rolled-up sleeve. Between him and Stu, they seem to have captured the imagination of the school mums in the main hall. Ladies, you have the option of a semi-tanned bit of rough or the swishy haired polished gent who likes a bit of three-way action. I don’t know what to expect with Stu being so brazen but Mike watches and dare I say it, looks extremely calm, grinning. Is this getting him off? Is he turned on by Stu? Who effing knows?
I’ve seen Mike a few times since we visited his house. I’ve been very good. When I’ve seen him at assemblies and at the school gate, I’ve not given anything away. I’ve been the ultimate professional parent. Either way, you see him now squatting at a child’s level and chatting to her, taking interest in her face painted like a penguin, and you realise what he gets up to behind closed doors is nothing to do with how he runs this school.
Stu, meanwhile, looks like he’s presenting a game show. ‘Terrible, Mrs McArthur. Right…who’s up next? Roll up ladies – who’s going to be the one who gives my nuts a good bashing?’
Danny and I have the good sense to walk away at this point. Who is that man? Never seen him before in our lives. We take off into a neighbouring classroom, home to the arts and crafts that the various classes have made.
Tess’ teacher spies us. ‘Mr and Mrs Morton, lovely to have you here!’
Mrs Randall is one of those overly pleasant ladies and you get that vibe that her throw cushions match and that she’s had the same hairstyle for most of her adult life. One hopes she goes home, swigs at a bottle of vodka and swears like a sailor when she’s not around the children.
‘I have some things that Tess has made.’
Danny holds on to Polly so as to say that he can’t access his wallet. She points over to decorations made with some sort of glittery clay, held together with gift ribbon and a crap load of PVA. Tess’ face seems to be stuck on to the reverse. The second item is a reindeer made out of lollipop sticks.
‘It’s two pounds for both.’
‘We might come back when we have change. The girls ran off with my wallet and—’
‘I’ll get these…’
It’s going to be one of those evenings, isn’t it? Briony Tipperton has shown up as Mrs Santa in a short woollen fur-cuffed dress. The lip is strong, the hair is big. I wonder how her earlobes are coping with the size of the baubles hanging off them.
‘Tipperton, what the hell have you come as?’
I blush to hear Danny be so frank with her.
‘You bastard, I’m spreading the Christmas joy about, aren’t I?’ She reaches over for the double air kiss and does the same with me. Since soft play, new battle lines have been drawn. I’ve seen that she cares and that changes everything.
Mrs Randall intervenes, ‘I think you look radiant, especially with your news. Congratulations, Mrs Tipperton.’
Danny and I look at each other.
‘Having another, innit? Another boy due May.’
‘Fantastic, love…’ Danny goes in to hug her, sandwiching Polly between them.
‘It’s in the air, eh? All this Captain Mintcake nonsense made us proper frisky.’
Danny and I freeze for a moment. She knows who he is too? That said, I believe you’ve sampled the Captain’s goods before, Tipperton. Now he’s inadvertently made you pregnant.
‘You’ll have to give me tips on what to do with three,’ she gestures to me. I smile, holding up Tess’ creations in my hands. ‘Pay me back when you come in salon so we can sort that barnet of yours.’
Can I be insulted? Don’t think you’re allowed when the pregnant woman is the culprit and she’s right, too – my hair has started to look like the manger where the sweet baby Jesus lay. She catches sight of someone behind me and her face suddenly drops. I glance back to see Sarah and her husband, Jez. It’s an awkward family portrait of them walking together with the kids sandwiched between them. I know Danny is far from happy to be here but Jez looks murderous.
‘She’s told everyone this is our Band-Aid baby,’ Briony says. ‘That we’re trying to save our marriage. Feel like telling her maybe that’s what she needs.’
Mrs Randall, who is in earshot, pretends to look at the ceiling tiles.
‘Poor girl,’ says Danny, nonchalant. Briony and I look at him, curiously. ‘Imagine what it’s like to be in that marriage – torn between a shitty husband and your kids. It’s like a call out for attention – try and throw shade at other people’s relationships so yours doesn’t look so bad.’
Mrs Randall, Briony and I are surprised by this clarity from Danny, of all people.
‘Throw shade, what are you fifteen?’ exclaims Briony. I giggle.
