Annie Lyons - Not Quite Perfect

‘Christa, that’s terrible!’

‘ Ja , but I have my boy and Rudi would never forget his responsibility to his boy.’ She ruffles Roger’s ginger mop of hair.

‘Now, let’s have another coffee and perhaps some kuchen ? My treat,’ Christa smiles broadly as if she has just given them details of a lovely holiday rather than a life in turmoil.

‘That poor woman,’ whispers Rachel while Christa is ordering for them.

‘I know. Fancy have a mum with a willy, called Willy!’

Rachel explodes with laughter. ‘Susan, you are going straight to hell!’

‘Yeah, baby and you’re right behind me!’

Rachel stacks the plates from lunch into the dishwasher and listens, enjoying the sweet sound of silent children enjoying the chaotic capers of a talking dog and his hippy friends. Will has declared Scooby Doo to be a ‘baby’s programme’, but Rachel has noticed how he grasps one of Lily’s hands when the janitor dressed up as a ghost tries to spook the characters. She looks in on them now; three perfect forms with wide eyes and open mouths, rapt in a state of unbridled joy at the action playing out on screen, barely aware of her presence. Lily glances round.

‘Look, Mummy, Scooby’s going to have another snack!’

‘Oh my goodness! Is he? I bet that’s his third or fourth so far!’ says Rachel.

‘Fifth actually, Mum,’ corrects Will, ever hot on his facts.

‘Well enjoy, my darlings; Mummy is just going to do something on the computer.’

‘Can Alfie look too?’ asks Alfie, his eyes not leaving the screen.

‘In a bit darling, you watch Scooby with Lils and Will.’

Rachel takes her chance and sneaks away, tragically excited about a few precious moments away from motherhood, even if it’s just to pay some bills. She feels a mild thrill as the computer starts up and she connects to the internet, her mind filling with expectation at what she might find. It reaffirms that there is still a world out there, even if she often feels disconnected from it. It seems ridiculous that her house is filled with chaos and yet she feels so lonely and detached from it, like a character watching life play out before her. Rachel stares at the glowing screen, its possibilities welcoming her, inviting her in : Do you feel lucky? Just click here, madam. Not sure what you’re after? Just punch in a couple of words and we’ll do the rest .

She is methodical however and goes straight to her e-mails. She sends her sister a message asking about the book pitch and gets a response almost immediately: ‘Cock-up of the century. Too depressed to speak. Have just eaten my own body weight in cheesecake. How’s Alf?’

Rachel grins. She considers telling Emma about the possible move to Scotland but can’t face it. Instead she writes, ‘No lasting damage. Never mind about the book – bet it was a pile of crap anyway. Let’s go and drown our sorrows soon. R x’

‘Ok. Speak soon. Big hugs to you all. E x’

Rachel looks around her, trying desperately to remember what she is supposed to be doing on the internet. She finds her brain increasingly unable to retain this kind of information, like some kind of leaky bottle. The other day, she had stood in front of the fridge for a good five minutes before she remembered that she was looking for the cheese.

She glances to her right and notices that Steve has left his BlackBerry at home. She looks back at the screen trying to ignore the urge that is starting to overwhelm her. She looks back at Steve’s phone. Its blue flashing light seems to tempt and console her at the same time: Go on, have a look. No one will ever know. It’s not as if you’re going to find anything incriminating anyway .

Rachel shakes her head and turns back to the computer, desperately trying to remember what she was going to search for.

‘Oh bollocks!’ she mutters grabbing Steve’s phone and clicking it into life. She’s not sure why she’s looking or what she’s looking for, but almost without knowing it, she finds herself looking at Steve’s e-mails. One is from someone called Sam and is entitled ‘Coffee’.

Hmm , thinks Rachel, never heard of Sam before . She clicks on the message feeling a bit sordid for checking up on her husband.

Hi Steve, are you still OK for coffee at 11 today? Need to talk about rolling out training on new IT system to your team. Thanks, Sam.

Rachel sighs, feeling guilty for even suspecting infidelity when all Steve is doing is having coffee with some geeky bloke from IT. Suddenly, her eye is caught by an e-mail entitled ‘Edinburgh’ and she has clicked on it before she’s had the chance to question her actions. The message, from Steve’s boss, Doug details, ‘our discussions regarding a possible move to start up a new office’ and was sent a month ago. Rachel is outraged. She reaches for her mobile and punches buttons until she finds Steve’s office number. It clicks straight through to his voicemail. Rachel flings the phone across the room with a growl of anger. Her heart is pounding and she has scared herself by flying off the handle so readily.

‘Mum?’ Lily appears at the door looking concerned, but not surprised by her mother’s outburst

Rachel is caught off guard. ‘Darling, sorry, Mummy was just –’

‘When’s Daddy coming home?’ asks Lily interrupting her.

Rachel is irritated by the question. ‘No bloody idea,’ she says.

Lily looks unimpressed. ‘Don’t swear, Mummy. It’s rude.’

Rachel watches her go, amazed that this bundle of morality is her child. Her mobile chirps into life and she sees the caller ID. She stabs the button and thrusts the handset to her ear, ready for a fight,

‘Rach? Everything OK?’

Steve’s calm voice seems to fuel her anger. ‘No Steve, everything is not OK. Tell me, when exactly did you know about this move to Edinburgh?’

‘Rach, can we talk about this later?’

‘No, I want to talk about it now.’

‘Rachel, I’ve got a meeting and I’m going to be home a bit late. Sorry.’

Rachel continues, not wanting to miss her moment. ‘Over a month. Over a sodding month, Steve, and you didn’t have the balls to tell me.’

‘Look, Rach, I’m sorry, really I am, but is it any wonder I didn’t tell you?’

‘I beg your pardon?’

‘Listen to yourself, Rach, any excuse for a row, any chance for a fight and you’re there, aren’t you?’

‘Excuse me?’

‘Face it Rach, you do have the tendency to be a bit unreasonable. I was just trying to pick the right moment.’

Rachel is struck dumb for the second time that afternoon and furious that Steve is stealing her moment of thunder. ‘Steve?’

‘Yeah?’

‘Piss off.’ Rachel cuts him off before he can respond and immediately phones Sue.

‘Hi, love, are you OK?’

‘No, not really. Steve is being a prick.’

‘Had that rational chat then?’

‘Hmm.’

‘Do you want some company?’

‘Yes please.’

‘OK. I’ll be round in twenty minutes. I hope you’ve got a bottle chilling.’

Rachel stalks downstairs to a peaceful living room with the children slumped coma-like now watching Tom and Jerry . Rachel watches with them for a while. She’d always hated Tom, and found herself as a child, rooting for the cheeky chancer, Jerry. On watching again, she realises that he’s actually a pretentious little tosser and Tom is the eternally tortured soul, whom no one understands.

‘Unbelievable,’ she mutters to herself as she heads to the kitchen. ‘I’m empathising with a cartoon cat now.’ She checks the fridge first for wine and then decides to be an über-mother by preparing something wholesome for the kid’s tea. On further inspection of the contents of the fridge, she decides that another dose of Omega 3 via the medium of fish fingers will do them no harm.