Trish chattered to me most of the way home. I asked her if she’d noticed they wore a school uniform. She sort of had, but had been a bit overwhelmed by the fact this was going to be her school. It also meant her ’sister’ would end up there too–assuming we could afford it. The children were in my custody, but I thought I’d best discuss it with Simon at the earliest opportunity.

“What is the uniform like, Mummy?”

“Well what did you see the girls wearing?”

“Um, skirts and um jackets.”

“They call those blazers, some were wearing cardigans or pullovers, so it looks as if they wear green tartan skirts and green blazers or cardis.” I thought, there are so many lovely shades of green, why do schools always choose horrible ones, this was sort of bottle green colour.

They also wore white blouses and ties. It took me back to my school days, which was the last time I regularly wore a tie. Only that was with trousers and other boy clothes, what I’d have given to wear the girls’ uniform. At least Trish had a better chance than I did, and I had a better one than many of my predecessors. We always try to make things better for our children.

Mima had run Stella ragged. “That bloody child, how I’ve kept my hands off her, I’ll never know.”

“What’s the problem?”

“She missed you two so much, she just played up as soon as you were gone.”

I glanced around, the two girls were chattering like two monkeys. “What did she do?”

“What didn’t she? She wanted to play with her dolls, then she didn’t. She wanted me to read to her, then she didn’t.”

“You didn’t fall asleep, did you?”

“Well actually, yes. But only for about twenty minutes.”

I shook my head in disbelief, from now on, I’d take both girls with me.

“Don’t you take that attitude with me. You should try being pregnant.” This time I said and did nothing, except to walk away. “Cathy, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it like that.” I ignored her and continued walking.

“Mummy,” said a voice while a hand pulled at my trousers.

“Yes, Poppet, what can I do for you?”

“When can I hewp, Twish powish, Gwampa’s desk?”

“After tea, if you’re a good girl.”

“Thank you, Mummy.” She ran off squealing to Trish, who was equally excited. I continued organising the tea. I tried to make sure we ate a balanced diet, with lots of fresh fruit and veg, plus some meat or fish every day. I was making a turkey stew, which would be nourishing and fairly quick, using diced turkey meat and garlic, onions and celeriac. Later I’d add mushrooms, carrots and even the potatoes, which thickened the sauce a little. We’d eat in an hour’s time.

I allowed the girls a small drink, and an even smaller biscuit, just to keep them going. We watched the news on telly and the weather forecast. The latter suggested we were in for some snow. Not exactly what I needed just now, although the girls may enjoy themselves.

Stella stayed aloof during and after dinner. The girls I had to threaten with no polishing if they didn’t eat all their dinner. It worked a treat. They helped me carry the dirty dishes back to the kitchen and I shoved it all in the dishwasher. Then, armed with two dusters, a small polish rag, and a tin of beeswax polish, I led the two polishers into Tom’s study.

They were very excited and I had to speak harshly to make them listen. They stopped dancing about immediately. “This is Grampa’s special room, his bits and pieces are special to him, and the papers especially so, do you understand?” They both nodded to say they did.

I showed them how to pick up a pile of papers and lay them on the floor, then the next pile next to them and so on, so they were replicating the arrangement of the desk on the floor, then all they had to do was reverse the process and the papers were where they started. Trish, particularly, seemed to twig what we were doing, Mima just did as Trish told her.

Once the desk was clear of papers, I showed them how to apply a very small amount of polish and to rub it over as much of the desk as they could. The thinner the polish, the better the shine. Trish had a go and after a few attempts, got the idea. Then I showed them how to buff the polished area to get a good shine, polishing round in circles to avoid leaving lines. Goodness, the housekeeping my mother taught me stood me in good stead–maybe she did know, after all?

After they’d both had a go at buffing, I left them to it. They’d be bored in about ten minutes and it was a large desk. I started up my laptop and devised a chart for them, to show they had polished the desk to my satisfaction and the days they had done it. They took about ten minutes and when I looked it was full of finger prints. I showed this to Trish and explained how to avoid them. They did have a natural disadvantage in that they were both small and Tom’s desk was large. I supervised as Trish polished out the finger marks, and then they both replaced all the papers. It took another ten minutes. All told, if they did this every day, it would take them about half an hour.

I put them to bed where we looked at their magazine and comic. They went off to sleep and I slipped down to call Simon. He was concerned by the weather forecast, and was tempted to sleep in his office. He kept a small folding bed there and a change of clothing. They also had a freezer and a microwave, so it would be possible to ‘live’ there for a couple of days.

I managed to persuade him to work on line if it got too bad, or even to walk to work. He reminded me of his newly recovered knee, and I felt stupid.

“So what have you been up to?” he enquired.

“I enrolled Trish in a school.”

“Goodness, that’s a big step.”

“Yeah, there was only one which’d take her.”

“Why only one?”

“The others were all full. It’s a private school.”

“Oh. How much?”

“Two grand a term.”

“Shit, that’s not cheap.”

“I know, I’ll pay it somehow.”

“Which one is it?”

“St Claire’s Convent School for Girls.”

“A convent? I thought you were the AntiChrist?”

“Very funny, that’s Richard Dawkins, I’m just a run of the mill agnostic.”

“As opposed to an atheist?”

“Yep, that’s me.”

“Still, a Catholic school, I mean, don’t they spend most of their time on their knees praying for forgiveness–if it’s enjoyable it’s a sin.”

“That wasn’t the impression, I got, besides, I will still be seeing Trish everyday, it’s not like I’m sending her off to a Jesuit boarding school.”

“What about her little anomaly?”

“No prob as long as she keeps it covered.”

“So they don’t do nude figure skating, then?”

“I hope not. Mind you if they did, her anomaly would probably freeze off and solve part of her problem.” I heard him laugh, although it wasn’t really funny, it was more a tragedy, but we’d get through it.

“So six grand a year for her to know all about the millions of saints they have and how we’ve martyred them.”

“Their syllabus looks pretty good and they have excellent SATS results and they are well placed in the tables, I looked it up on the Guardian website. Besides, I don’t think there’s too much of a problem on religious grounds down here.”

“Except in Lewes, they burn an effigy every year there.”

“Do they? What? Guy Fawkes?”

“No I think it’s someone else, but that sort of thing.”

“Is it still a problem in Scotland?”

“And Liverpool and Manchester, they even have proddy and Catholic football teams. Liverpool is proddy, Everton is Catholic. Rangers and Celtic are the same in Glasgow. It’s still quite tribal in some places.”

“Crikey, I thought that only applied in Northern Ireland?”

“No, Babes, it happens elsewhere, too. We like to think we’re not tribal on the mainland, but we are, just look at the racism which is milked by the British National Party–that’s pure tribalism.

“Have I done the wrong thing, because I thought the headmistress seemed so helpful, and she guessed Trish’s problem–it’s not the first GID child they’ve helped. Oh, and she recognised me.”

“Don’t tell me, that clip on the net?”

“Amongst other things.”

“Oh, do tell?”

“The reports in the local paper, the bit we did on the BBC plus the Youtube, clip.”

“Gosh, someone with a memory.”

“She said she might ask me to present prizes sometime.”

“Eh?”

“She said she saw me as a positive role model, being an academic, film maker, aristocrat and foster-mother.”

“What about me then?”

“You’re not an academic.”

“No, but I have to cope with you and all these waifs and strays you keep taking in, I’m beginning to think we should get the house changed to a shoe.”

“Shoe? What are you on about?”

“There was an old woman, who lived in a shoe.”

“She had so many children, she didn’t know what to do,” I completed. “Two is hardly so many, is it?

“It’s only two at the moment, but by the weekend, you might have adopted ten more?”

“Simon?”

“What?”

“You are crazy.”

“Charming.”