Fiona Gibson 3 Book Bundle. Fiona Gibson
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dogs are like humans,’ he adds. ‘Pretty resilient. It just takes time.’
For a moment, Kerry is stuck for words, as if it’s not Buddy he’s talking about, but her. It just takes time. How long, exactly? She hates it, the way she can be fine one moment and utterly grief-stricken the next. A hazy picture, of a smudge of baby in a womb, floats into her consciousness.
‘I’m sure you’re right,’ she says quickly. ‘Anyway, let’s go through to the music room and we can talk about what you’d like to do.’
As he follows her out of the kitchen, Kerry silently curses the Impregnator for turning her into the kind of woman who could, literally, blub at anything.
‘So have you played much before?’ she asks, clearing her throat as they sit side by side at the piano.
‘Er, only an old Casio keyboard I have at home. I know middle C and the C major chord but beyond that I’m pretty lost.’
She glances at him, deciding she likes this smiley, amiable man; his eagerness is refreshing, especially after the gloomy twelve-year-old boy she taught this afternoon.
‘So what kind of music d’you want to play, Harvey?’
He shrugs. ‘Oh, anything really.’
‘Really? You don’t have a preference?’
‘Well, maybe not death metal.’ He grins.
‘How about I play something now, and you improvise here’ – she indicates the upper reaches of the keyboard – ‘just to get a feel for it?’
‘Um … okay.’ She starts to play, and after a few moments’ hesitation Harvey starts to pick out notes, tentatively at first, then relaxing a little.
‘Mummy?’ comes the small voice from the doorway.
Kerry turns to see Mia, pink-faced and sleepy with pillow-mussed hair. ‘Sweetheart, what are you doing out of bed? It’s gone nine, you’ve got school tomorrow …’
‘Got a tummy ache.’
‘Oh, have you? Come here, darling.’ Mia’s gaze remains fixed upon Harvey as she strides over and hops up onto her mother’s knee. ‘This is Mia,’ Kerry adds.
‘Hi, Mia, nice to meet you.’ He smiles and raises a hand in greeting.
‘I know you,’ she announces with a sly grin.
‘I don’t think you do, Mia,’ Kerry says. ‘He’s just come to talk about piano lessons.’
‘I do, Mummy.’ She turns to him. ‘You’re Harvey Chuckles and you came to my school.’
‘Harvey Chuckles?’ Kerry repeats.
‘Er … it’s sort of my professional name,’ he says quickly. ‘They booked me last minute at school when the other entertainer couldn’t make it …’
‘But I thought you said you organised conferences?’
‘Well, er …’
‘These conferences are for under-eights,’ she says with a smirk.
‘Er … I suppose so, yes.’
‘You had a yellow wig on,’ Mia continues, clearly in her stride now, ‘but we saw you take it off, and your face-paint, and make yourself back into an ordinary man.’
Harvey is laughing now, and blushing; the effect is curiously endearing, Kerry decides.
‘You weren’t supposed to see that part,’ he tells Mia. ‘Anyway, do you play the piano? I expect you do …’
‘Yeah, Mummy teaches me.’
‘We’re sort of doing it casually,’ Kerry explains.
Mia grins at him, swinging her legs from Kerry’s lap, stomach ache evidently forgotten.
‘We play together,’ she says proudly, ‘and it’s not boring learning like at school. Every time I get better ’cause that’s what Mummy does. She makes it fun.’
‘Well, that sounds great,’ Harvey says. ‘That’s exactly what I’d like to do too.’
‘D’you like being a clown?’ Mia asks him.
‘Um … I do,’ he replies, clearly fibbing, ‘although I wouldn’t say it’s what I’d like to do for the rest of my life.’
‘Yeah.’ She nods thoughtfully. ‘You don’t get old man clowns.’
‘Mia,’ Kerry cuts in, ‘you really must go to bed now. Come on, sweetheart.’ She lifts her daughter from her lap, carefully stepping over Buddy who’s been gnawing his rubbery hamburger toy at her feet. ‘Sorry about that,’ she tells Harvey as Mia reluctantly makes to leave the room, yet still lurks, clearly intrigued, in the doorway.
‘That’s okay. Maybe I’d better leave you in peace, though. I’ve taken up enough of your evening already.’ He smiles and, once again, Kerry finds herself warming to this affable man who seems to have attached some curious significance to a scrap of paper stuck to his wet windscreen.
‘See you next Saturday then,’ she says. ‘Is two thirty good for you?’
‘Yes, looking forward to it.’
‘If any conferences come up,’ she adds, ‘we can always rearrange.’
At least he’s able to laugh at himself, she notes as she sees him out, with Buddy barking in protest, seemingly grief-stricken at his departure. Still, that’s probably an essential quality for a clown.
‘I felt sorry for Harvey Chuckles,’ Mia murmurs as she and Kerry head upstairs. ‘Audrey-Jane was mean to him and I don’t want to be her friend.’
‘Oh, honey.’ Tucking her in and perching on the edge of her bed, Kerry gently brushes a crinkle of her daughter’s hair from her face. ‘I thought you liked Audrey-Jane. Didn’t you say she was being much friendlier at school?’
‘Yeah, sometimes. Dunno.’
‘Well, maybe we could ask her around for a playdate soon, or anyone else you’d like to play with – you don’t have to be friendly to someone who’s not very nice to you …’
Mia scowls, her bottom lip wobbling. ‘She doesn’t like me. Nobody does.’
‘Darling, they do,’ Kerry murmurs, aware of Mia’s beating heart as she holds her close. ‘You’re a lovely girl and you’ve got to know lots of people already …’
‘I don’t have a best friend.’ She sniffs loudly.
‘I know, but these things happen naturally when you get to know people properly. We’ll start planning your birthday party soon, okay? And you can invite as many people as you like.’
Kerry kisses her cheek, then clicks off the bedside light, aware of Mia’s large, dark eyes fixed intently upon her. ‘No one’ll come,’ she announces.
‘Of course they will. Why wouldn’t they? We’ll make it really fun and I’ll do you a really special cake …’
‘Will Daddy come?’
‘Er …’ Kerry clamps her back teeth together. ‘I’m sure he will.’
‘Can Harvey Chuckles come too?’
‘Oh, darling, we hardly know him and it probably costs an awful lot to hire a clown …’
As Mia falls silent, Kerry gently strokes her hair, wishing she had the power to make everything all right.
‘Tabitha threw a sweet,’ she murmurs sleepily, ‘and it hit him on the head.’
‘Poor Harvey. That wasn’t very kind,