Day Two

Drunk GIN sounded fun didn't she... As ever, apparently even the babysitter has to take the good with the extremely bad! But, I’ll get to this later.

This morning we all ventured to the joys of Richmond to do a touch of banking. Well, the real adults at least. I took the kiddywinks to get a magazine each. We also visit the toy shop; very pleasant. 

Then off to the private sports club. Members only. And family of members. And their childcare. 

To get there we come off the main road where a big fancy sign tells us too, and we carry on down a ‘country lane’ for another seven minutes before we actually get a hint of what we came here for. I think this is to make people think that’s it’s a secret and is well hidden away from all those commoners that might, have otherwise wondered past.

We are here to enrol the Kinder into tennis and swimming club for a couple of hours each morning for the week. Sounds bliss to me. It didn't happen. No summer clubs start until next week. But the pool is available and I ensure them I am keen to swim with the little ones. I can just pop home tonight and have my swim kit ready for the morning.

We eat at the club. Of course. Then mum is leaving. It is decided that GIN will drive mum to the station while I watch the kids for twenty minutes until she returns. Mum then talks through money with me (which makes up for the events that ultimately unfold) and gives me a lump sum ahead to buy the kids and myself swimming costumes and goggles now, (so as not to have to drive the twenty minutes home again for the kids costumes) and because they are keen and mum is worried GIN might not be.

So, GIN leaves with mum and I have an uncomfortable amount of cash floating about in my impressively big skirt pockets. I dutifully buy what I was told to (it’s incredible how easy it is to buy anything when there is NO budget to consider. So easy!) Quickly send GIN a text saying, in not so many words, that it’s mums fault we’re swimming, so she knows when we get back.
We had a lovely swim. Rather brief as the four year old is a brand new swimmer with no floats so I couldn't take eye off her, which made it somewhat boring for the eight year old.

We jump out and dry. I call GIN. No response. I text GIN. No response. I text mum to get GIN’s alternative, foreign number. I text GIN again and get ‘I was there. Now I am shopping’.
‘Great’, I think. She'll finish her little rounds and we’ll be home in maybe an hour or so. This woman won’t rush herself but she is at least aware of us now...

FOUR hours later we are still waiting. She will not reply to messages (that I am sending to both her phones). She will not answer my calls. At first I just figure it’s on silent and she trusts me enough to enjoy some peace and quiet before the full brunt of the rest of the week hits her. The youngsters have exhausted the swimming pool, the adventure playground, the soft playground, even the computer games(!). I have watered and fed them (thank goodness for the uncomfortable money folds I have burning into my thighs). Little mummy’s boy has been holding out all day for his favourite Thai restaurant that he was promised, but I persuade him that a ramekin full of beans, four chicken nuggets and ball of mash is somehow worth missing it for. 

JUST as I finish my meal I get a (what I thought, efficient) message saying ‘Outside now’. Elation. We skip to the car and jump in. I explain what we had been doing in a cheery and happy-to-be-there voice. Silence. She probably just didn't hear me over the talking of the children. After we’re all settled in the car I repeat that as the nippers got so hungry and tired, I bought them dinner. Silence.
I can’t handle this so I instantly start blabbering away to the poor four year old about Pepper Pig! Luckily I have her magazine we bought earlier for backup, which seems fortunate now, but I was cursing when she wouldn't stop going on about how she’d left it in the car whilst we were stranded at the members only club.

It was obviously, when watching her walk back to the house that she was drunk. I had been warned about her being an angry drunk, but had foolishly put it out of my mind after the splendid heart to heart we had last night.

The innocents were told to go straight to bed seeing as they had ‘had a swim and dinner’. I run upstairs with them, scared for my own life too. As it was just an hour until their real bed time anyway, I told them they could stay up for a bit with me. But not to leave the room. I did sheepishly accompany them to brush their teeth. 

They are lovely kids, but a little soft I feel; they can’t go to sleep without someone in the room. Even the eight year old boy. I think they probably could, but I am not to argue, and actually enjoyed it; it made a nice calm end to the day.

Except, it’s not even ten pm and I don’t dare leave my room now. I will use my normal tactics for a situation like this; in the morning I will go down bright and early, do my best not to disturb her and kill her stubborn silence with smiles and enthusiasm so she can’t get an evil glare in edgewise. Can’t wait…

I did get one piece of advice before it all went a bit sour. Always marry for money first. Love isn't that important, after all ‘better to marry a creepy old man with money, than a creepy old man without.’