‘A what?’
‘A marquee, so we can sit outside on the front whatever the weather and have a natter and say hello to people when they pass. Then we’re not breaking the law and we can do the clapping on Thursdays. I can’t be doing with sitting inside. I got us camping chairs too, with cup holders and a little side table so we can have snacks and stuff. Oh yes, and nice blankets for our legs in case it gets a bit chilly on the willy.’
Babs giggled at one of her mum’s favourite sayings, used on toddler Isaac when he ran round the house naked.
As always, Bridie was persistent and eager. ‘So, when can you go? I’ll send you the reference number and I’ll need that fat lump Pete to put it up, unless you think one of my grandchildren are capable of following written instructions on a piece of paper.’
Bridie was convinced that the younger generation were physically and mentally incapacitated by overuse of the web, text messaging and emails and as a result couldn’t spell or do anything practical and sat on their arses all day talking rubbish. Bridie, on the other hand was conveniently immune and embraced online shopping like it was a gift sent by God especially for her.
Still not sure what her mum had bought, Babs probed, worried also that Bridie’s mystery windfall wasn’t going to go far at this rate.
‘Mum, I don’t think a marquee will fit in your little front garden.’
‘Bloody hell, Barbara.’ She only called Babs by her full name when she was annoyed. ‘I’m not simple. I checked the dimensions, but if it makes you happy I’ll look on my app. Hold on…’ some moments and a lot of tutting and deep sighs later, Bridie found what she was looking for. ‘Right, it’s a white PVC gazebo with detachable windows, aluminium frame and measures…’
‘Mum, that’s fine. I get it now. A gazebo is a bit different to a marquee and I think it’s a great idea. It’ll keep you dry and if it’s too warm, out of the sun.’
Babs imagined her mum and Mavis on either side of their fence, camped under their gazebos, keeping an eye on the neighbours and taking part in the new tradition – clapping for the NHS workers on a Thursday night. Bridie had worked as a nurse at their local hospital for over thirty years and was really strict with all the family, ringing up to make sure they all went outside to say thank you.
‘Thanks, love. I’ll send you the details now and I’d be grateful if we could get them put up soon as. The forecast is lovely for the next week, so I want to get organised.’
‘Leave it with me, Mum. I’ll pick everything up and bring the girls to help. I’m sure between the three of us we can manage without the men. You’ll have to stay inside till it’s done though, and no interfering. I’ll see you in a bit, okay.’
After her mum said goodbye, Babs had an idea and opened up the Argos app on her phone and began to search, clicking ‘Buy Now’ when she found what she was looking for. Smiling, she pictured her mum and Mavis sitting outside at dusk underneath their gazebos, all lit up with solar fairy lights.
Two hours later, after being supervised by her bossy mother who barked orders through the window, Babs and the girls had satisfactorily completed their task. Bridie and Mavis were sitting in their respective tented areas and loving life, while Sasha took photos from the other side of the gate. Blankets were draped over their camping chairs for later; two mugs of tea stood in the holders and both slipper-clad women were happily ensconced under their matching white gazebos.
‘With a bit of luck, the solar panels will charge up by tonight but if not they’ll work tomorrow.’
‘Thanks, love, that was very kind of you. I didn’t think about lights, but they’ll look lovely. I’ll pop the money in your account later on.’ Bridie gave Babs a look that saidno arguments.The prize pot was shrinking further.
‘Righty-ho. We’ll get off then. Ring if you need anything, and remember, don’t let anyone get too close…’ Another withering look told Babs to be quiet and minutes later, the three of them were heading home.
The grumbling started two minutes into the drive, led by Sasha. ‘At least we got out of the house, and it was nice to see Gran. Better than another evening with Isaac and Fiona. I wish you’d said no to her moving in, Mum. It’s too cramped and she spends hours in the bathroom doing Lord knows what. I can’t wait for her to piss off home.’
‘Well, I think she’s okay.’ Demi ignored Sasha’s wobbly head and the ugly face she was pulling at the mention of Fiona. ‘She’s going to colour my hair. Vamp Pink it’s called. We ordered one off Amazon last night, and she said she’ll give me a trim, too.’
Babs had a question. ‘Er, excuse me, Demi. I don’t think you’re allowed to go to school with pink hair, and your dad will have a fit.’
‘Mum… don’t be such a spoilsport, and if you hadn’t noticed, school’s shut. I’ll rock Vamp Pink so pleeease, let me… if you loved me you would.’ Demi winked and gave Babs a nudge while from the back seat came a loud tut.
She’d heard the line many times before and always fell for it, but Demi had been a star since lockdown started, not shirking her online lessons, and actually making an effort to spend time with Babs.
‘Go on then. But if your dad tells you off I’m having nothing to do with it, okay. Blame it all on Fiona.’ Babs was pulling into the cul-de-sac so being hugged by a giddy girl was a bit inconvenient, as was the sound of her phone ringing. By the time Babs fished it out of her bag, she saw a message from Tom.
Hi sis, give me a call when you are free. Need to talk x
Babs heart plummeted. Something was wrong so not bothering to get out of the car, she waited till the girls had gone inside and rang him straight back.
CHAPTERSIXTEEN
It was sweltering inside Babs’car and even with the windows down, rivers of perspiration trickled where they really should not, and the back of her thighs stuck to the leather seat and made a squelchy sound when she moved. No matter how uncomfortable she was, Tom came before being cool and she didn’t want the girls to get the gist of what was going on, if there was actually a problem.
When he finally picked up after two tries, she braced herself for bad news. ‘Hi, sis, how’s it going over there? All good here, keeping safe and sanitised… there’s not a bit of me that Cris hasn’t rubbed down with an antiseptic wet wipe… or is that too much information?’
He sounded upbeat but that was Tom’s way, always on a natural high, seeing the best in every situation and person, often at his own cost.
‘Yes, it bloody well is too much info, and we’re all okay. In fact I’ve just been to see Mum… wait till the girls post the photos on Fam-Chat, she’s a hoot.’ Babs was mildly relieved but not out of the woods, knowing he could be stalling, serving her a shit sandwich as he called them.
