A Family Holiday: A heartwarming summer romance for fans of Katie Fforde. Bella Osborne
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trying to maintain her temper because annoyingly it was starting to ebb away.
‘No. He pulled up in his car and it was like a party spilled out. He was with Jed and Sophie and two other girls and they were laughing and messing about… and I watched them go inside and I flipped out. You know when you say the red mist descends and you can’t control it?’ Charlie knew exactly what that was like. She nodded and sat on the arm of the chair next to Fleur. ‘I flipped out and I stabbed his tyres with my penknife. I got a bit carried away and then there was this man with a torch shouting at me and then Knob came out and went crazy and then the police arrived.’ Fleur’s bottom lip sagged and Charlie leaned in to give her a hug before she started to cry.
‘You are a prize idiot.’ She hugged her for a bit until Fleur released her grip.
‘I’m tired.’
‘Hot chocolate?’ suggested Charlie.
‘No, thank you. Where am I sleeping?’
‘Sofa or one of the children’s beds – half of them are free as far as I can make out,’ said Charlie, thinking about the warm bodies squirrelled under her duvet.
Charlie could hear the phone ringing again and dragged herself to consciousness. It was light outside but still early. She looked around and realised she was asleep on the sofa. When she had gone back to bed it had still been full of children and dog, so she had settled Fleur in Eleanor’s bed and had taken a blanket and opted for the sofa. It had been adequate and at least she hadn’t spent the night disentangling herself from paws, legs and countless pointy elbows.
She dragged herself upright, picked up the phone and mumbled into it.
‘Who is this?’ asked Ruth.
‘It’s Charlie, the nanny,’ said Charlie, waking up as a shot of something lunged uncomfortably around her system.
‘I want an update on the Social Services meeting,’ she stated firmly.
‘I’d be happy to do that for you,’ said Charlie, relaxing into the sofa. She could feel Ruth’s reaction on the other end and it was quite entertaining.
‘I still don’t see why they wanted to see you at all,’ said Ruth, her voice fading out a little.
Charlie really did dislike this woman. ‘I’m going to be the children’s primary carer so it concerns me very much.’ There, that felt better.
‘What gives you that idea? We can, and will, employ who we like to care for the children. As you’ve brought up the subject, I’ll see if I can get along to you this afternoon…’ said Ruth.
Charlie wanted to reach down the phone and pull her out, like they did in cartoons, and give her a good slap. Count to ten, she thought, count to ten. One, two, three… bugger it!
‘You can employ anyone you like, Ruth, and you can change them weekly, especially if you’d like to totally fuck up your sister’s children. If that’s what you want, you go ahead!’ and she switched off the phone. Charlie instantly wished she hadn’t done it. That may have been tantamount to handing in her resignation. It was stupid and rash. She flung herself back against the sofa. What had she done?
Fleur came into the room wrapped in Charlie’s dressing gown and wearing Ted’s old slippers. She was closely followed by Millie.
‘Good morning, Gorgeous,’ said Charlie, as Millie plonked herself onto her lap and started to suck her thumb.
‘Good morning,’ said Fleur, curling herself into the chair opposite.
‘Do you have plans for today?’ asked Charlie, as she ran her fingers through Millie’s hair in an effort to remove the worst of the knots before she had to drag a reluctant comb through it.
‘I need a lift to Harold Hill to get my car.’
‘Or what’s left of it,’ snorted Charlie.
‘Don’t. That’s not funny.’
‘Nor is Harold Hill,’ said Charlie. ‘Yes, I’ll take you there. What time?’
‘No rush,’ said Fleur, with a yawn. ‘Maybe I could help you?’
‘That would be nice. I think I may have blown it with Ruth. She’s coming to see me later.’
‘Don’t worry, she’s all hot air.’
‘I’m not so sure that she is,’ said Charlie, feeling the ominous cloud of Ruth’s words hanging above her, raining down pellets of dread.
Fleur clapped her hands together. ‘What you need is a bit of fun!’
They decided that they would all have a walk to the park and take a picnic lunch. Charlie felt she needed to broach the subject of the children returning to school – and a bit of moral support from Fleur would be nice. After breakfast Fleur was playing mummies and babies with Millie and hadn’t appeared to see the irony of the game, but both she and Millie seemed content enough. George was playing something unsuitable on the games console with Ted so they were both happy and Eleanor was giving Wriggly a bath.
Charlie was counting out drinks into the cool box as the phone rang and it was answered somewhere else in the house. Ted strolled into the kitchen and mouthed that it was Ruth on the phone, followed by a roll of his eyes. This way she could at least listen to one side of the conversation and decide if she needed to pack now or later.
The conversation that followed was rather one-sided as Ted listened and Charlie could hear Ruth getting crosser in the background. After a couple of minutes, he handed the phone to Charlie. ‘She wants to talk to you,’ he said, taking the plate of toast and sitting down at the table. Charlie took the phone and regarded it as if it were a hand grenade with its pin missing.
‘Hello Ruth,’ said Charlie, trying to brazen it out.
‘We got cut off this morning,’ said Ruth, and Charlie thought for a bizarre moment that perhaps Ruth was being kind. ‘I think there’s a problem with my phone, it keeps doing it,’ but it turned out that, for once, luck was on Charlie’s side.
‘And there was me thinking you’d put the phone down on me, but who would be so rude?’
‘Quite,’ said Ruth. ‘Is Edward all right? He doesn’t speak.’
It was Charlie’s turn to roll her eyes. ‘He’s a teenager, Ruth. You’re lucky if you can get a grunt out of him.’
Charlie felt the toast hit the back of her head and turned around to see Ted holding a second slice aloft. She gave him a death stare and he grinned before biting into the toast.
‘Can you explain why my father seems to think he’s going to be the children’s guardian?’
‘I suggested it to Roger and he seemed quite keen. I spoke to Social Services about it too. Is there a problem?’
‘Yes, there’s a problem. My father was never one of the options. He is in a nursing home for a reason. He is not in a fit state to be the children’s guardian.’
‘But Social Services explained everything. They need to do an assessment of whoever puts themselves forward as guardian, they fill in some forms and it goes to court to grant the formal guardianship. I think they want someone who really wants to be the guardian to do it. Either way, I can go on looking after the children here in their own home,’ said Charlie. It was worth a try, she thought.
There was a slight pause and Charlie bit her lip. ‘I have power of attorney for my father. Do you know what that means?’
Charlie let out a defeated sigh. ‘That you’re going to say no.’
‘It means I have the legal right to