Annie Lyons - Life Or Something Like It

Ellie bounced over to them. ‘Can I have some candyfloss and a drink, please?’

‘Okay,’ said Cat.

‘I’m sorry I spoiled your treat, Ellie,’ said Charlie.

Ellie shrugged. ‘It’s okay. Can I have some candyfloss then? And also, can I have my picture taken with Yoda? Have you seen him, Charlie? He’s really cool.’

Cat and Charlie exchanged glances before Charlie put an arm around his sister. ‘I have, Ells. Come on, let’s go and try to work out how he does it.’

Cat breathed a sigh of relief and followed them through the crowds. As they were right by the National Gallery, Cat suggested they go inside. Predictably, Charlie declared the idea to be ‘boring’ but as soon as Ellie said that she would like to see the pictures, he backed down.

Cat had always loved this place and, over the years, she had viewed it as some people might view a library – a place of calm and a refuge from the real world. She marvelled at the fact that you could be in London’s bustle one moment and then staring at Van Gogh’s Sunflowers the next. She led the children towards the modern paintings, thinking she might impress them with her favourites.

‘I like this one,’ cried Ellie, skipping over to a winter landscape scene. ‘It’s like Christmas. Why is that little man sitting in the snow though?’ she asked peering at the tiny figure.

‘Well – ’ said Cat moving next to her.

‘Can we go and see the sunflowers now?’ said Ellie moving away.

‘Okay,’ said Cat, longing to spend a minute to take in the other pictures. She noticed Charlie stayed by her side. This was a blessing as the gallery was now bustling with visitors. ‘I think you should hold my hand, Ellie,’ she said.

Ellie frowned at her. ‘I’m not a baby.’

‘I know. It’s just that there are a lot of people and how cross would your dad be if I lost you?’

‘Very cross,’ declared Ellie, placing her hand in Cat’s.

It felt odd to be holding a child’s hand and Ellie kept trying to wriggle free when she spotted something new she wanted to look at. Cat led them quickly to Sunflowers but it was impossible to get close due to the number of people gazing up in reverent awe. Cat remembered going to the Louvre and the enormous gallery where the Mona Lisa hung. She had been overwhelmed by the crowds and underwhelmed when she got close and saw how tiny the painting actually was. She looked round at the other paintings – bridesmaids at Van Gogh’s wedding. Ellie wriggled her way through and was frowning up at the painting. Charlie stood next to her. Cat excused her way through the crowd to stand alongside them.

‘What do you think?’ she asked.

‘I like them,’ said Ellie.

‘They’re dying,’ said Charlie. ‘Why did he paint dying flowers?’

Cat looked at the picture and realised that he was right. In her mind they had always been bright and alive and full of life. In actual fact at least half a dozen of the flowers were drooping. If they had been in her house, she would have thrown them out. She looked for a description, hoping that it might give her an answer for Charlie. ‘Well he painted them for his friend, another painter called Gauguin, and I think he wanted to impress him.’

‘By painting dying flowers?’

‘I think there are a few versions,’ said Cat, trying to scan through the text quickly.

‘I need a poo,’ declared Ellie.

‘Right, okay,’ said Cat, still trying to read the text.

‘Now,’ said Ellie, looking a little desperate.

A lady with a sleeping toddler in a buggy caught Cat’s eye. ‘Kids eh?’ She grinned.

Cat gave her a weak smile. She longed to shout, I am not one of you! These are not my children!

‘Come on then, you two,’ said Cat, leading them back to the entrance hall.

‘I’ll wait here,’ said Charlie.

Cat wavered. The gallery was very busy and she also wasn’t convinced that she could trust him to stay put, despite their earlier discussion. ‘I want you to come with us,’ said Ellie in a strained voice.

Charlie looked at his sister and rolled his eyes. ‘Okay, Ells,’ he said offering her his hand.

They followed the signs to the basement. ‘I’ve got a turtle!’ shouted Ellie as they sped along the marble corridor with Cat glancing back every now and then to check Charlie was still behind her. Cat’s heart sank when she saw the queue. It snaked out of the door. Could she push in declaring a faecal emergency? She could see quite a few parents ahead of her accompanied by squirming children. Probably not.

She turned to face Ellie and held her by the shoulders. ‘You’ve got to hold on, Ellie. Can you do that for me, please?’ Ellie’s face was screwed up in concentration and she looked as if she might cry.

‘Hey, Ellie,’ said Charlie. ‘What’s that song about the kookaburra that Mum always sings?’

Ellie was immediately distracted as she thought. She began a tuneless rendition and to Cat’s surprise Charlie joined in.

‘Kookaburra sits in the old gum tree-ee,

Merry, merry king of the bush is hee-ee,

Laugh kookaburra, laugh kookaburra,

Gay your life must be.’

Cat had to endure this assault on her eardrums for a further ten rounds but they reached the toilet without further drama.

‘In you go, Ellie,’ said Cat.

‘Can you come in with me?’

‘Really?’ asked Cat horrified.

‘These toilets are very dark and a bit scary.’ Cat and Charlie exchanged glances. ‘Please?’ implored the little girl.

‘O-kay but let’s be quick. I thought this was an emergency,’ said Cat feeling exasperated.

They crammed into the cubicle as Ellie sat down and began a running commentary on her bowel movement.

‘It’s coming out now and oooh, that’s much better.’

Cat stared at the ceiling and tried to pretend that she was having cocktails in Shoreditch House. Ellie went about her business and after she had wiped declared that ‘it came out clean so I didn’t really need to wipe.’

‘You stink,’ said Charlie with a grin.

‘I know.’ Ellie beamed.

‘Okay, go and wash your hands now,’ said Cat. As Ellie filled her hands with too much soap and proceeded to flood the floor beneath her basin, Cat turned to Charlie. ‘Thank you for distracting her,’ she said. He shrugged.

‘That was fun,’ said Ellie as they made their way out towards the door. ‘Can we go for lunch now, please?’

When she told Andrew later about their dining experience, he was a little too quick to point out that she should have saved herself the bother and taken the children to McDonald’s.

‘The treat aspect to eating out for kids is the fact that they’re not eating at home,’ he said plainly.

Cat did not know this and she also didn’t go to McDonald’s. Ever. Although she could remember enjoying it as a child, now she was an adult, she could afford to shun fast-food establishments and treat herself to something a little more edifying. So for Cat a meal at a Michelin-starred restaurant was something different and wonderful and she had felt sure that the children would quickly be impressed and won over. The trip to the National Gallery had been relatively successful and she decided that they all deserved a treat. Cat was no fool though. She had deliberately chosen a restaurant run by a female chef with children. She not only welcomed kids but had even designed a menu for them. It was where Cat sent all her celebrity mothers with their offspring.

‘Wow,’ was all Ellie would say as the maître d’ led them through the elegant dining room to their table.

‘Thank you, Philippe,’ said Cat with a smile as they took their places. The children looked bemused when he unfolded their napkins and placed them on their laps. Ellie beamed at Cat and she started to relax a little. Philippe brought the menus, a large one for Cat and two smaller ones for the children.