Ray came in cursing the weather. It had affected supplies of various materials and as a result he was laid off until further notice. The bright side, as far as I was concerned, was he’d be around to take his turn with the school run and the cooking. I didn’t think it would be tactful to point it out at the time.
We’d just finished eating when the bell rang and Sheila introduced herself. She was older than I’d expected, with a grey bob and wire-rimmed specs. We talked first in the kitchen. Explained how things were organised, rent, bills, shared use of the kitchen, the washer and drier and so on. There were few rules; no smoking and clean up after yourself being the most important.
Sheila grinned. ‘Tell me about it. I’m sharing with two students at the moment. The mess. I got it through the university – I’m doing a degree course. I’d no idea there’d be so little choice. I might have been able to stand it at eighteen but…’ She looked over at Tom and Maddie, who were silently fighting over a chair. ‘I’ve two boys myself actually.’
‘How old are they?’ piped up Maddie.
‘Nineteen and twenty-two. Dominic’s up at St Andrew’s studying law and Peter’s in India backpacking.’
I wondered whether Peter and Dominic would descend on Sheila in between terms. And what had happened to the family home? Sold, she later told me, to pay off her husband’s debts. His business had failed, spectacularly. And then the marriage
failed, too.
‘I’m five,’ announced Maddie.
‘I’m four,’ said Tom.
Would she be tempted to interfere with how we raised the children? She seemed easy-going enough.
‘Would you like to have a look at the rooms?’ I suggested.
‘Follow the leader, I’m leader,’ shrieked Tom.
We filed upstairs to the first floor.
‘Bathroom,’ Ray pointed out, ‘bath and shower. Sal’s room, mine.’
‘This is my room,’ called Maddie.
‘It’s not just yours,’ Tom proclaimed, ‘it’s mine as well.’ Sheila tolerated a tour of the children’s room and made all the right noises as they showed her their treasures. We climbed up the attic stairs. Digger lay sprawled on the landing.
‘We’ve got a dog,’ I said.
‘He’s called Digger,’ said Tom.
‘Do you like dogs?’ Maddie asked.
‘I like cats better,’ Sheila replied diplomatically.
‘He’s Ray’s dog,’ I told her. ‘I rescued him from the pound and then discovered I wasn’t all that keen on dogs.’
‘He’s a great dog,’ said Ray proudly.
Digger pricked his ears, opened his eyes and beamed love at his master. His tail thumped the ground. We stepped over him to show Sheila the rooms. ‘Bedroom here, loo in the middle, sitting room there.’