The Mince Pie Mix-Up Page 4
What the hell was happening to him? Had the stress of the Benvenuti campaign got to him? His boss had been piling on the pressure lately – maybe Calvin had finally cracked. That must be it. He was stressed and overtired and that was making him temporarily barking.
‘Morning, Judy.’ Calvin’s thoughts were interrupted by the approach of Enid Thomas, Judy’s boss at The Green Teapot. He remembered to play along, smiling and returning the greeting. ‘Are you still okay to work tomorrow?’
‘Tomorrow?’ Aha! Here was further proof that this wasn’t real (the first bit of evidence being that it wasn’t possible). Judy didn’t work on Sundays.
‘Yes, tomorrow. You said you’d work an extra shift during the lights switch-on.’
Oh.
‘Is that still okay?’
‘Yes. Absolutely.’ Surely they’d have sorted out this mess by tomorrow and Judy could work the shift as arranged. Calvin certainly didn’t want to be stuck working at the weekend. The weekend was his only chance to rest.
‘And you’re still okay to bake the extra batches?’
‘Yes.’
‘Brilliant!’ Enid flashed him a radiant smile and patted him on the arm. ‘Thank you, Judy.’
‘No problem. I’m happy to help.’
Calvin wondered how soon he could get an appointment to see the doctor.
Judy was up and dressed by the time Calvin arrived back at the house with Miller. She’d tried to go back to sleep but the drama of the morning had ensured that she was wide awake, so she’d got herself dressed again and wandered downstairs, where she’d discovered the toppled Christmas tree and their poor, battered fairy. She’d managed to right the tree and hoover up the pine needles but she was afraid the fairy’s wings would always be a bit wonky from now on.
Judy was in the kitchen when she heard Calvin arrive back from his walk with Miller. She was planning on enjoying a leisurely breakfast for a change. She didn’t know how long this dream would last or what would happen next – perhaps she’d change into Scott or even Miller – so she was going to make the most of it.
‘You’d better hurry up,’ she told Calvin. ‘Scott will be late for football.’
‘Where is he?’ Calvin hung up Miller’s lead and grabbed the car keys.
‘Gone back to bed, I think.’ What should Judy have for breakfast? Cereal? Toast? Whatever it was, she wouldn’t have to cram it into her mouth between batches of cakes or biscuits or on the way to the car. She would have the luxury of sitting down to eat and actually chewing her food.
‘He’s in bed?’ Calvin checked his watch. Football practice started in half an hour and it meant driving into town. ‘Why didn’t you get him up?’
Judy closed the cupboard containing the breakfast cereals. She would push the boat out and have breakfast in the village. ‘When was the last time you got our son out of bed? I’ll give you a clue: he was still in nappies.’
‘That isn’t true at all.’ Was it?
‘I think you’ll find Mum is responsible for all duties involving the children. Which reminds me, you need to go into town this afternoon to do a bit of Christmas shopping.’ Judy had been planning on nipping into town to pick up some bits and pieces while Calvin ferried the children around for their activities, but no! Calvin would never waste his Saturday morning shopping. He hadn’t bought a Christmas present since 2001. Christmas presents – the shopping for and wrapping of (including her own) – had always been Judy’s domain, although not by choice. No, if Calvin thought her life was a breeze, he could have the full-on experience.
‘I’ve made you a list.’ Judy passed him the slip of paper. He was lucky; Judy had already bought the majority of the gifts weeks ago. There were only a few more bits and pieces left to buy.
‘You think this is funny, don’t you?’ Calvin snatched the list and shoved it into the pocket of his jeans.
‘Hysterically.’ It was just a pity Judy would wake up in her own body soon.
With Calvin and the children on their way to football and ballet, Judy took herself to The Green Teapot for a croissant and a pot of tea. It made a nice change to have somebody bringing her tea instead of having to serve it.
‘We don’t usually see you so bright and early on a Saturday,’ Enid said as she placed Judy’s order on the table.
‘That’s because I’m usually languishing in bed until lunchtime.’ Judy smiled at her boss and picked up her warm croissant. She took her time with her breakfast, savouring every moment while it lasted. She wouldn’t get this chance again.
‘Can I get a croissant and a coffee to go?’ Abby Frost barged her way into the tea room in a pair of skin-tight jeans and heeled knee-length boots. ‘Quick as you can. I’m in a rush.’ Marching to the window, she wriggled her fingers at the car waiting outside. Her daughter waved back from the passenger seat. ‘Oh hello, Calvin!’ Abby tottered to Judy’s table and dropped into the seat opposite. ‘We’re just on our way to ballet. Why don’t you ever come along? You’d cheer the place right up!’ Abby pouted at Judy, her lips a glossy red. She’d definitely had them done. Either that or she’d been stung in the chops by a hundred bees all at once.
‘Ballet’s not really my thing,’ Judy said. The thought of Calvin being stuck in a room full of Abby-alikes was quite amusing. That was one activity she really wasn’t going to miss.
‘That’s a shame,’ Abby purred, blinking coquettishly at Judy. Was she trying to flirt with Judy’s husband? ‘We could use a bit of testosterone around the place. Especially from someone as handsome as you.’ She squeezed Calvin’s arm and batted her eyelashes.
She bloody well was!
Judy wondered whether you could injure somebody with half a lukewarm croissant.
‘Croissant and coffee to take away,’ Enid called out, holding the order aloft. Judy was glad to see the glint of disapproval in her boss’s eyes as she watched Abby.
‘I guess I’ll see you around.’ Abby pouted at Judy once more before she grabbed her order and tottered out to the car.
What a cow! Judy had never liked Abby in the playground or at the PTA meetings and she liked her even less now. She wasn’t really hungry after her encounter with Abby so, once the car had turned out of the green, she had a stroll through the village, stopping to pick up the papers and admire the festive window display of the children’s bookshop. She noticed that there was going to be a Christmas story time that afternoon. She could take Charlie while Calvin was out shopping. It had been ages since she’d had the time to take her daughter to story time. Being Calvin was bliss.
Calvin was feeling anything but blissful as he sat in the small, too-hot room in the community centre, surrounded by a gaggle of gossipy mothers as their children pointed their toes and twirled around in the next room. Calvin was bored stupid. He couldn’t wait to get home and put his feet up with the papers. How long did he have left?
Forty minutes.
Great.
‘It’s an absolute nightmare,’ one of the mothers said with such drama she should have been performing at the Globe Theatre. She looked vaguely familiar. Calvin had never been to Charlie’s ballet classes or any of her performances as he’d always happened to have meetings scheduled that he couldn’t get out of. And if he didn’t, he’d made one up. He couldn’t help it. Ballet wasn’t his thing at all.
Calvin figured this woman must be a parent from Charlie’s school. She’d been bleating on about the extension her husband had bought her as an early Christmas present for the past fifteen minutes.
‘There’s nothing but dust and noise! It wouldn’t be so bad if there were any hunky builders but they’re all fat and hairy.’ The mother shuddered. ‘I can’t wait to escape over Christmas. Did I tell you he’s booked a Caribbean cruise for us? It’s going to be gorgeous. No stress over cooking or putting up with family squabbles. I can’t wait!’
Calvin should have bought a newspaper en route. He didn’t think he could put up with much more of this garbage.
‘I’ve
bought him a car. He’s had the Merc for three years now so I thought he deserved an upgrade. He’s had his eye on this Ferrari for a while now so I’ve treated him.’
Calvin leapt out of his seat and wandered to the window but he could still hear the woman going on and on about money as though it grew on a tree at the bottom of her garden.
‘I’m going to take Tabitha on a surprise shopping spree at the end of term. She’s been desperate for this Dolce & Gabbana dress and she’s going to need a whole new wardrobe for the cruise.’
‘You’re taking Tabitha on the cruise with you?’
‘Oh, yes. I wouldn’t want to go without my baby! My mother’s coming with us though, so she can babysit and give us a bit of time together, you know.’
Calvin thought seriously about jumping through the window. Hopefully the glass would slice into something vital and end this torture.
On and on she went, the other mothers oohing and aahing and nodding in agreement when all Calvin wanted to do was scream at her to shut up. He didn’t care about her extension or the new kitchen or the cruise. He certainly didn’t want to hear about the bloody Ferrari. He bet this woman and her super-rich hubby wiped their arses on bank notes.
‘Mummy! Mummy!’ Finally the ballet class ended and Charlie came tearing towards Calvin. ‘Come and meet Miss Pasquin!’ Calvin had been hoping to head straight home once Charlie’s ballet class finally came to an end, but his daughter had other ideas and dragged him to meet her new ballet teacher. Miss Pasquin was tall and implausibly thin and she couldn’t have been more than sixteen years old.
‘Mrs Neil.’ Miss Pasquin shook Calvin’s hand daintily. ‘It’s so lovely to meet you. I’m going to be helping out my mum here to make sure the girls are ready for the Christmas show.’
‘Mrs Pasquin is Miss Pasquin’s mummy.’ Charlie covered her mouth and giggled, finding the whole concept hilarious. What would she think if she knew her mummy was really her daddy?
‘Are you looking forward to our Christmas show?’ Miss Pasquin brushed Charlie’s curls with her dainty hand. ‘Charlie here has been working so hard. She’s going to be a superstar reindeer!’
‘Tabitha wanted to be a reindeer but she has to be an elf.’ Charlie beamed up at Calvin, proud of her achievement.
‘Elves are just as important in the show too,’ Miss Pasquin pointed out.
‘But I bet they’re not as important as reindeer, are they?’ Calvin nudged Charlie and she giggled.
‘All parts are important to the show, Mrs Neil.’ Miss Pasquin’s features had become pinched so Calvin decided it was time to get out of there before she gave him a ticking off. Miss Pasquin may have been young, but she looked fierce.
‘Come on, Charlie-Chalk. It’s time to go home.’ Calvin held out a hand for his daughter, but Charlie hesitated.
‘You don’t call me Charlie-Chalk.’ Her little brow was furrowed as she looked up at Calvin. ‘Daddy calls me Charlie-Chalk.’
Good point. ‘What do I call you then?’
Charlie giggled, assuming her mum was playing a game. ‘You call me sweetie. Because I’m sweet.’
‘Then come on, sweetie.’ This time Charlie took Calvin’s hand. ‘Let’s go home.’ The sooner the better. But it took a good while to actually get Charlie into the car as she insisted on showing off her ballet moves after every other step, proving her worth as a reindeer. But eventually she was in the car and buckled into her seat. Calvin couldn’t wait to sink into his chair at home and have a well-deserved rest.
‘Reindeer are better than elves, aren’t they, Mummy?’ Charlie asked as they made their way back towards the village.
‘A million times better,’ Calvin replied. ‘Elves smell like wee.’
Charlie covered her mouth and giggled. ‘Tabitha isn’t going to be home at Christmas. She’s going on a big boat. That means she won’t get any presents, doesn’t it? There won’t be a chimney for Santa.’
Calvin guessed that Tabitha was the offspring of Mrs Super-Rich and suspected she’d be getting a lot of presents. Expensive ones her mother could brag about. But he didn’t tell Charlie this.
‘Mummy?’ Charlie had continued to chatter away for the entire journey but her tone was suddenly sharper as they reached the village. ‘Why didn’t we pick up Scott?’
Chapter Six:
The Second and Third Stages in Wish-Fulfilment: Fear and Anger
So Calvin’s rest would have to wait as he was forced to turn the car around and head back into town to pick up his disgruntled son. Scott was not impressed that he’d been left in the freezing cold for so long and took his grievance out on his younger sister, teasing her relentlessly and causing her to whine in frustration. Calvin was ready to kick them out of the car and make them walk the rest of the way home. He was cranky enough after spending the morning listening to the bragging of Mrs Money Tree without adding two squabbling kids into the mix.
‘Can you two please just be quiet for five minutes? You’re giving me a headache.’ Calvin couldn’t wait until this mess was sorted out. Perhaps the doctor could prescribe a pill to take the crazy away.
‘But Mummy, Scott keeps prodding me and it hurts.’
‘I am not. She’s just being a baby.’
‘I’m not being a baby. You’re being a big poo-poo-head. Ow! Mummy! Scott pinched me.’
‘No, I didn’t.’
Calvin thought about kicking himself out of the car and walking the rest of the way home. Alone.
‘Please. I’m begging you to act like civilised people and stop arguing and pinching and everything else that’s going on back there.’ Calvin took a quick look in his mirror to see if his children had listened. Scott was picking at a patch of dried-on dirt on his shin while Charlie was wafting her hands and humming a now all too familiar tune from the upcoming Christmas show. It seemed they’d taken in his plea and had granted him a reprieve from their bickering.
It lasted for a whole thirty-two seconds before all hell broke loose in the back seat of the car. Calvin jabbed at the radio to drown them out as there was clearly no reasoning with them. Elton John’s ‘Step into Christmas’ blasted into the car. Calvin didn’t want to step into Christmas. He wanted to step into his house and park his arse in his chair with the newspaper.
They finally made it back to the village – again – and Calvin had never been so grateful to see his house. He was already mentally kicking off his shoes and opening his newspaper. But he didn’t get the chance to do either as Judy insisted he turn right back around again, reminding him about the shopping list lodged in his pocket.
Charlie was super-excited when Judy suggested they go to the bookshop on the green for story time. Judy was quite surprised the dream had yet to end, but she wasn’t going to complain. Layering Charlie up in her coat and woolly hat, scarf and gloves, they headed out into the cold.
‘Are you sure you don’t want to come?’ Judy asked Scott before she shut the door. ‘We’re going to get hot chocolates. Maybe even a cake?’
Scott looked as though Judy had just suggested they strip off their clothes and climb the giant Christmas tree on the green. ‘Er, no. I’m going to band practice in a bit.’
‘Do you want a lift?’ Charlie was hopping from foot to foot and tugging on Judy’s arm, eager to get to their festive activity but Judy was feeling guilty at leaving her son behind.
Scott looked suspicious. ‘Why?’
‘Why not?’
‘Because you’re always telling me you’re not a taxi service?’ Scott suggested.
‘I do not say that!’ Judy cried before realising that she was Calvin now and therefore probably did say that. Quite a lot. ‘Not often.’
‘You say it all the time. Anyway, I’m getting a lift off Jack’s dad.’ Scott gave a shrug and wandered away, leaving Judy staring into an empty hallway.
‘Bye then,’ Judy called before closing and locking the door and giving in to Charlie’s demand to come on before we miss it!
Story time,
Judy assured her daughter, wasn’t for another hour so they headed across to The Green Teapot, where Judy ordered a hot chocolate with whipped cream and a gingerbread Christmas tree with green icing and gold edible balls for Charlie and a cup of tea for herself. She thought having a cake herself was a bit greedy after eating a croissant that morning but then she remembered that a) she was in Calvin’s body and therefore it would be his problem afterwards and b) this was a dream so the calories wouldn’t count.
‘And I’ll have a gingerbread macaroon, please.’
Judy joined Charlie at the table she’d chosen by the window. Outside, the green was still glistening slightly from the morning’s frost.
‘I know your mummy,’ the man at the neighbouring table was telling Charlie as Judy approached.
‘Do you?’ Charlie asked and the man nodded.
‘I do. She’s a lovely lady, your mum. Makes the best toast in the world.’
‘I like toast with chocolate spread,’ Charlie said as Judy sat down. ‘Or strawberry jam. My brother likes toast with honey.’ Charlie scrunched up her nose. ‘Yuck.’
‘Hello, Norman.’ Judy smiled at one of The Green Teapot’s most regular customers. Norman Greene could be a bit hands-y at times, but Judy let him off because she felt sorry for him. He spent more time sipping tea here than he did in his own home, Judy suspected, but then he’d lived on his own since his wife had passed away and he enjoyed the company the tea room offered him.
Norman gave Judy a nod in greeting before he turned his attention to the cooling cup of tea in front of him. Had it been Judy’s body sitting before him and not Calvin’s, Norman would have chatted to her, his eyes twinkling as he flirted away.
‘Has story time started yet?’ Charlie asked, her gaze turning to the window. Judy now understood why she’d chosen this particular table. You could see the bookshop across the green so Charlie could make sure they weren’t missing out.