Custard

       When she spoke about it a picture came into her mind of a little waif of a child, her hair a tangled mane, huge brown eyes, a child quite unlike her sturdy pair, more a small creature she could pet for a fortnight, hear laugh, be surprised by the world Penny took for granted.

            Why was she doing this? Guilt came into it. Had prompted her to offer the holiday when she read that some of these children had never seen the sea. There was also an element of self-interest. She had so much, lovely home, indulgent husband and the kids but though she was ashamed to admit it, lately she’d felt bored. Nevertheless, she had to admit she enjoyed friends’ praise.

            ‘It’s very good of you, Penny, I mean, taking in a perfect stranger.’

            She had been unprepared for the sullen faced girl standing alone by the coach, clutching a small elderly case. This must be Jody. For all the other children had been matched with their host families and led away to waiting cars.

            ‘Jody?’

            ‘Yeah, Missus?’

            ‘I’m Penny Stanton.’

            ‘Oh yeah. I’m staying with you, aint I?’

            She prayed the child had not glimpsed her disappointed expression chased swiftly by a bright smile.

            As they drove through the lush July countryside, the rehearsed dialogue evaporated. She had imagined herself pointing out this old church, that field of cows and the oohs and aahs of an enchanted child. Jody slumped in the seat beside her and stared ahead, saying nothing. Penny began to dread the stretch of stagnant time before the day arrived to drive Jody back to the bus station. She remembered Frank saying: ‘Don’t bite off more than you can chew.’

                                                ***

            Jody hadn’t wanted to go on this holiday. She liked the routine she and Gran had developed together. She liked going shopping with the old lady down the market where they sold strange bulbous fruits she’d never seen before. And there were people behind the stalls who smiled big white smiles. They gave her cherry earrings or an apple. The air caught in your throat in winter but she liked that too. She’d been born in this city.

            Gran had a big net shopping bag and they each took a handle going home. On school inset days, she helped Gran clear out a cupboard or soak labels off bottles and tins for the special offers. That was her idea of a holiday.

            At school she was always afraid someone would beckon her from the classroom and take her up to the head teacher’s office to tell her she hadn’t got a home to go back to. It had happened before, first when her Dad ran off and then when Mum went into that hospital. As long as she stayed close to Gran she felt it would be all right.

            In winter they got a fug up in the sitting room and she was made to sit properly at the table with its red velvet cloth overlaid by another white one. Gran set down heaped plates: sausages and mash, shepherd’s pie, fish cakes, and the puddings Jody loved with lots of custard. Custard was her favourite food she even ate the skin. They called her Fatty at school but Gran said she was just well covered.

            It had been Miss Ireland who persuaded Gran. She’d said that although she knew Jody had a nice home it didn’t do for a child to be with somebody elderly all the time. And wouldn’t Jody love to see the sea?

            Jody stood by her grand mother’s chair. The smell of her soap seemed the most beloved in the world. ‘No, Gran, I want to stay with you.’

            ‘Go on, love, it’ll be a nice change.’

            It wasn’t so bad when they drove along roads where the tall trees leaned together, their leafy branches almost touching. But when they shot out along a stretch of wide-open fields she felt small and lost and frightened. She didn’t like the country. It was boring. She didn’t like Mrs Stanton either. Mothers weren’t skinny like her with hair all short and spikey. They were soft with floppy clothes and hugging them felt like sinking into a pillow.

            ‘The children are out for the day,’ Mrs Stanton told her. ‘You’ll be able to settle in quietly.’

            She was glad. She wanted to be alone. She stayed in the bedroom as long as she could, just sat on the bed looking at the blue and white flowered walls and some photographs of a schoolgirl, longing for it to be time to go home.

                                                ***

            Now Penny understood what her friends had hinted at. How could she have been so foolish as to expect a smiling ‘dress the doll’ of a child to hang her boredom on, a child who might blunt her feeling that life wasn’t turning out as she had expected? Jody seemed to hate them all. Her mouth was set in a thin line as they worked through the programme Penny had made of ‘Things to Do.’

            It rained the day they went to Hampton Court but they trudged through the grounds where even the ducks sheltered under the riverbank. Jody backed away from the Maze like a frightened animal but before they could stop him, Jonathan darted in and was lost. They called and called, their heels sunk into the sodden grass, under dripping umbrellas. Finally Frank had to plough in and drag him out.

            Another dawn dawned, perfectly blue and gold, just the day for Jody’s first trip to the sea. But she seemed to be afraid of that, too. Jonathan and Claire raced over the sand with Nibs while she sat close to Penny and Frank with her arms round her knees and her hair hanging over her face. She wouldn’t even paddle.

            The only positive reaction Penny could extract was when she asked if Jody would like cream on her rhubarb tart.

            ‘Where’s the custard, Missus?’ she asked.

            ‘I don’t think we’ve got any.’

            She went to look in the store cupboard but custard powder wasn’t something she bought these days –all that lurid colouring.

            ‘It wouldn’t hurt now and again,’ Frank said. ‘Why don’t you buy some? I like custard too.’

            Penny stared at him in surprise. ‘You’ve never told me that before.’

            ‘You never asked me.’

            ‘I suppose you liked school dinners?’  She found she was curious about this man she thought she knew so well.

            ‘Now you come to mention it, yes, I did. ‘

            She was aware of his gaze as she frowned over her list of activities still to be carried out. ‘I think there’s enough here to keep her occupied till the end of the week,’ she said. ‘It’s been much harder than I imagined.’

            Gently but firmly Frank took the list away from her and tore it up.

            ‘Frank! What on earth are you doing?’

            ‘You’re on the wrong track, Penny. That’ s not what the kid needs.’

            ‘Of course it is. You read the article yourself. This is supposed to give them the opportunity to see and do all the things they wouldn’t usually do.’

            ‘For some of them, I agree, but not Jody. I’ve watched her. It’s safety she needs not adventure. She may not have seen the sea before but I reckon that little girl has seen more than enough of what life’s about.’

            Penny eyed her husband as if he were a stranger.  ‘OK so what do you suggest?’

            ‘Just let her run loose, be a child. I have a feeling she hasn’t had much chance of that, poor kid.’

            Where had all this come from!

            ‘I never realised…so many things, Frank.’

                                                ***

            Jody felt safe in the leafy garden. She watched Frank assemble a swing, touched the smooth white wooden seat, the stout ropes and could not wait to sit on it. But then the swing hung limp. It did not, as she had expected, fly up of its own accord towards the trees.

            ‘Here, let’s give you a push.’

            Frank gave her the gentlest of nudges but Jody sucked in her breath and clutched onto the ropes in terror. He explained what she must do, how she should lean back with her legs stretched out, and then come up towards the ropes with knees bent.

            ‘It works! It Works!’

            She was on her way up towards the trees. Oh the carefree sense of flying.

            Gran asks her: ‘had a nice holiday, love? Glad you went?’

            Jody tells her about the Stanton house and garden.’

            ‘How the other half lives, eh?’

            Jody is silent. The difference is that Gran is happy to be who she is whereas something inside her seems to have changed. Jody dwells for a moment on the sunlit garden, the kind man and the marvellous swing.

            ‘Tea’s ready. I done your favourite, toad in the hole.’

            Gran leaves the room. Jody’s vision fades. She wonders if there is custard.