‘The weather up here is freezing but the girls are pretty hot, right? Right?’
Oke’s face fell as he cottoned on. He remembered Carmen’s expression the night before, deep in intense conversation with Blair, just as Skylar had said. And now Blair was bragging about …
No. It was over. He had to forget about it. It was time to go home.
‘Goodbye,’ he said to Mr McCredie, but he was a world away. ‘I suppose I should say Merry—’
‘You off, man?’ said Blair.
‘Yes,’ said Oke. ‘Back to Brazil.’
Mr McCredie looked up, his face terribly sad for Carmen. Oh, what a rotten shame.
‘Wow. They have super-hot babes there too, don’t they?’ said Blair.
Oke shrugged. ‘Well … ’
Blair beamed at him.
‘Well, you have caught me in a good mood – what’s your name?’
Oke gave it, and Blair signed a book with a flourish, even though it wasn’t technically his and Oke really hadn’t wanted to buy it.
‘Here,’ he said, handing it over. The title of the book wasLove Every Day.
Carmen was worried about turning up to the school not knowing anyone, and having to loiter awkwardly around the school gates looking like a total weirdo, but Phoebe had point-blank refused to go into class on her own and was hanging on to Carmen with all her might and actually there were lots of mothers she recognised from the shop, who nodded and waved to her.
Pippa had marched in, hauling her bassoon and absolutely full of her amazing little brother news, prepared to be queen of the playground, but Phoebe had held back, and Carmen had remembered hearing about the disastrous last time when she’d frozen in front of the whole school.
‘Are you doing a solo today?’ she said, squeezing her hand.
Phoebe shook her head.
‘I’m in the back row,’ she said. ‘Calintha McGuire is doing it.’
‘She soundsawful,’ said Carmen, and was rewarded with a half-smile. ‘There she is.’ Phoebe nudged her attention towards a girl in bright blonde immaculate plaits, over-enunciating to a group of acolytes.
‘Bloody hell, shelooksawful,’ said Carmen, and Phoebe sniggered. It was lovely to hear the child laugh. ‘Well, I’ve heard you in the bath,’ Carmen continued. ‘And I have to tell you, I think you’retremendous. I can’t sing at all. Promise me you’ll just perform to me and not all these other people, every single one of whom is stupid. Sing your song just for me. And for the new baby. It can be his song.’
‘Itisabout a baby,’ said Phoebe thoughtfully.
‘Well, there you go. Make it his song. I’ve heard you singing with the record. Just do that.’
To her disappointment, Skylar hadn’t been in when they’d all got home. Carmen wanted to be there when Sofia fired her. Then she wanted to call her back and tell her she was rehired, then fire her herself. It was astonishing how much the fire burned in her. She could handle Skylar making snide remarks to her, and for taking the chap she liked, or thought she’d liked. But as soon as she came for one of her family? No way, matey.
The other mums came up and gathered round, asking about the baby and names, and were full of praise and attention for Phoebe as the newly minted big sister, and Carmen had to wonder really what she had spent all those years sneering at Sofia’s friends for.
She found, too, how desperate she was to tell Oke. He had, she knew, a lot of strong opinions about babies. She had spent a good twenty minutes that morning just staring at baby Tom/ Finn/James/Albert/Captain America (they weren’t quite there yet on names), contemplating his starfish toes and his eyes, a mystical colour between the sky and the sea, and thinking that he was quite impossible to name, and that Oke had quite possibly been right – not about most babies, butthisbaby – that this baby knew every secret of the universe, and was love, uncomplicated, clear as crystal, under every frosted star. How strange that he understood already something she hadn’t.
She shook her head and went forward to meet Phoebe’s nice teacher, then was ushered into the primary school concert hall, a room that, she couldn’t help but notice, was nicer than the school she and Sofia had attended. She took out her phone as she had been informed she had to tape all three classes of the children whether it was forbidden or not.
The children marched in in total silence and perfectly regimented lines; it was partly impressive and partly quite frightening. The parents sat up attentively, but only Carmen, not realising the etiquette, waved frantically to Phoebe as she passed. Phoebe didn’t dare lift her hand, but smiled to herself nonetheless.
There were then the adorable nativity antics of the smaller classes, during which, it being rather warm and cosy in the hall, Carmen, who had had almost no sleep, started to drift off. She sat up with a start when the primary fours were announced, fumbling for her phone. There was a little skit about dancing babies which she didn’t quite get, then the blonde girl stepped forward and looked anxiously at the music teacher at the piano, who nodded her cue.
‘Little Jesus sweetly sleep,’ she started. ‘Do not stir. We will lend a coat of fur.’
And then the rest of the class joined in, their sweet high voices soft and in unison:
