Putty In Her Hands by R J Butler Read Free Book Online Page A

me
the Green Day CD for Christmas; I mean you don’t have to say or
anything…
     
    No.
     
    Can I buy it then?
     
    How much pocket money have you
got left?

No, I meant, erm, with your money?
     
    No.
     
    Please –
     
    No.
     
    Dad –
     
    Joshua, I said no, and
that’s final. Sometimes, as a parent, when you say no you have
to mean it and stick by it.
     
    The card shop was manic with
happy shoppers so I didn’t see her until I’d virtually walked into
her, letting out a shriek so loud that half the shop turned to see. Dawn!
     
    Rob!
     
    Dawn, hi.
     
    Hello, Rob.
     
    Hello.
     
    Hi.
     
    Somehow we had to get out of
this loop. Dawn, this is my son Joshua.
     
    Josh, he corrected.
     
    Hi, Josh. So are you Christmas
shopping with your dad then?
     
    Yeah, we’ve been buying
presents for my mum.
     
    That’s nice, what did you get
her?
     
    We got –
     
    No, I screeched. We
can’t tell you. It’s a secret. She couldn’t know that I’d
brought the jacket she’d found.
     
    Well, I won’t tell her.
     
    It’s not that, it’s just…
you know. Josh, go and have a look for those cards. Nothing too
soppy. And nothing to religious, I called as he ambled off.
Turning to Dawn I added, We don’t want to overdo the religious
bit at Christmas, now do we?
     
    Good looking boy, said
Dawn.
     
    Yeah, takes after his
mother.
     
    I knew you were a dad but
it’s still strange seeing you being a dad.
     
    It started ten years ago.
     
    Are you OK?

Yeah. You?

Yes. Wish I could hold you.
     
    Me too. You
alone then?
    Yes but I’m meeting my mother
in half an hour for lunch. Care to join us?
     
    I’d love to but… you know.
     
    I know. I was only teasing.
     
    Are still going back west
tomorrow?
     
    Yes.
     
    For a week?
     
    Or longer.
     
    Come to the pub on Friday.
     
    I’ll see.
     
    Dawn…
     
    Here comes Josh.
     
    That was too quick – go and
choose some better ones.
     
    But you haven’t even looked at
them yet.
     
    OK, I guess they’ll do. So
er, see you Friday, Dawn. It still seemed a painfully long way
away, assuming she even made it then. Nice to see you
again.
     
    And you. Goodbye, Josh.
     
    As Joshua and I left, I glanced
round. She winked at me. That was the point we got stopped by the
security guard. By blaming Joshua, saying it was an accident and by
pointing out that it was he holding the cards, we got let off with
nothing more than a stern ticking off.
     
    Thanks, Dad, thanks a
lot, said an indignant Joshua shortly afterwards as we headed
back towards the car.
     
    Sorry, Josh. Listen, best not
mention the incident to your mum.
     
    What, how you almost got me
arrested?
     
    And er, perhaps best if you
don’t mention Dawn either.
     
    Why not?

Your mother doesn’t really like Dawn, I said choosing my words
carefully.
     
    Why, do they know each
other?
     
    Not yet, I muttered
under my breath.
     
    What?
     
    You know, perhaps we’ll buy
that Green Day album after all.
     
    Sunday, 16th December
    Sunday afternoon we put the
Christmas tree up, a real one – naturally. I placed it in the bay
window and Emily, usually such a stickler for having it just so,
allows the children to decorate it as they see fit. So Joshua
decorates the top half, and Lola the bottom. Christmas carols play
in the background to add to the atmosphere, and I sit back in the
armchair enjoying the fuggy warmth of our living room, reading a Sunday Times supplement, feeling like a Victorian father.
Lola cries that she wants to put the fairy on. Joshua, all
magnanimous, steps aside, and I lift Lola up, where after several
attempts she places the fairy at the top. The final result is a
mishmash of style and clash of colours, flung on as children do.
Emily applauds whilst gnashing her teeth.
     
    That evening, after the
children have gone to bed, I noticed Emily rearranging the tree
ever so subtly so not to be too noticeable to their unobservant
eyes. After the fourth evening, the tree finally looks right in