LITMIR.BIZ

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Gabriel, running his fingers distractedly through his hair. ‘I don’t know, Marianne, I know it’s a big opportunity. But to be away from us? I don’t think I could bear it.’

      ‘Maybe it won’t come to anything,’ said Marianne. ‘After all, he’s got to get in first.’

      ‘True,’ said Gabriel, ‘but he’s a clever boy, you said so yourself, and with your help he could do it. And Darren knows the Head of Music there. Eve seems to think he’s got a really good chance.’

      ‘Then you can’t deny him a shot at it,’ said Marianne firmly. ‘If that’s what he wants to do.’

      ‘I know,’ said Gabriel miserably. ‘I feel really guilty about this, but I don’t want him to go.’

      Pippa Holliday slammed down the phone with uncharacteristic anger. ‘Of all the small-minded, patronising, bloody useless pieces of–’ A clicking to her left reminded her that Lucy was there, so she curtailed the expletive she was going to use and said, ‘Oh Luce, it’s that social worker.’

      Lucy tilted her face to one side and pulled a grumpy face and shook her head.

      ‘No, we don’t like her,’ said Pippa with a smile. Lucy always managed to make her laugh, even when things were really grim. ‘She’s being so unhelpful.’

      Unhelpful. That was one way of putting it. Yes, Pippa understood there were cuts. Yes, she also understood that Lucy’s case was only one of many that Claire King dealt with daily, and yes probably to Claire-I’ve-no-idea-how-you-do-it King, Pippa and her family weren’t a priority, living as they did in a comfortable house with a reasonably good income, and inconveniently Dan was neither an absentee father nor a wife-beater. Pippa knew she didn’t help her case by presenting a calm unhurried manner to the world, but it was the only way she knew of coping with the difficulties life had thrown at her.

      From the first catastrophic moment when she and Dan had been told that their precious longed-for baby daughter had cerebral palsy, and would grow up needing constant care, Pippa had known she would manage, because what other choice was there? Besides, when she, to her everlasting shame, had fallen apart at the news, Dan had been so together, so strong for the two of them, she knew they’d get through it somehow. Without Dan, she doubted she would have been so calm, so capable, so coping. So many men in his position might have walked out on them, but Dan loved their daughter with a constant and devoted tenderness that Pippa could only marvel at and be grateful for. His support and love had kept them all afloat, making huge efforts to ensure the boys never missed out on activities because of Lucy; always trying to be there for hospital visits when he could, and running the farm to boot. Dan. Her perfect hero.

      And they had coped and managed all this time because eventually, after long years and battles, Pippa had organised respite care for her daughter, giving the rest of the family precious time together. Pippa hated to use the word normal – but doing the things that other families took for granted, going for long walks in the country, having a pub lunch without establishing first whether they had disabled access, and having to face out people’s stares. People could be so cruel, even in this allegedly enlightened day and age. And now that was all about to be taken away from them, as Claire bloody King had just informed her that due to a tightening of budgets, Lucy might lose her precious respite care.

      ‘It’s not definite, but–’

      Reading the subtext, Pippa knew Claire thought there were more needy, deserving families than hers. There probably were, but that didn’t make it right. Since Lucy had been going to respite care, Pippa had had some precious time for herself. Not a lot, but enough for her to be able to cope with the demands of her beautiful, gorgeous daughter, and feel she was still looking after her boys and husband too. Without that lifeline she felt she might sink.

      ‘I’m sure you’ll manage,’ said Claire, ‘you’re so calm. And you have so much support. It will be fine.’

      ‘And what if it’s not?’ said Pippa frankly. ‘Having the respite care is what keeps me calm. Without it I don’t know what I’d do.’

      She put the phone down in frustration. There was no point taking it out on Claire. The woman was only doing her job. But still. She looked at her precious daughter, sitting in her custom-made wheelchair, sighing to cheer her up – Lucy had an instinct for sniffing out when Pippa was sad and stressed, which was one of the most lovable things about her – and wondered how they would cope. Lucy was nearly ten now and getting bigger all the time. There might come a point when Pippa couldn’t lift her or bath her, or do all the little jobs she needed. It was like having a toddler for life. A large overgrown toddler, with hormones. For the first time since that terrible day when Lucy had been born, Pippa really felt overwhelmed. What if, after all she couldn’t cope? What would they do then?

Part One

January

       Chapter One

      Marianne was simmering a lamb stew on the Aga, in the homely country kitchen she and Gabriel had recently renovated in oak, while the twins sat in their high chairs banging spoons on the table, giggling away at each other. It was a deep and abiding relief to her that they were so happy in each other’s company; they kept themselves usefully occupied when she was busy. It was a wintry Monday afternoon and Gabriel had taken Steven over to have a look around Middleminster. Marianne had thought of coming with them as she wasn’t working, but decided that the twins would probably be too distracting, and it might be better for Gabriel to do this with Steven on his own. She also hoped that it might persuade Gabriel that this was really a good idea.

      She was just serving the twins’ portions into two identical plastic bowls when an animated Steven burst through the door, followed by Gabriel, looking slightly less than thrilled. Marianne was caught afresh with the realisation of how similar father and son were getting. Steven had grown a lot recently and his hair had darkened, and his eyes, though blue, retained something of his father’s look about them.

      ‘So what’s it like?’

      ‘It was fab, Marianne!’ Steven was jumping about with glee. ‘They’ve got a brilliant football pitch and I could get to play cricket too!’

      Steven had started playing cricket the previous summer, and been disappointed to learn that the local secondary school hadn’t got cricket on the curriculum.

      ‘What about the choir?’ laughed Marianne, caught up with his infectious enthusiasm. ‘I mean, that’s the main reason for going.’

      ‘It was cool, wasn’t it, Dad?’ Steven’s eyes lit up. Unusually for a boy, he loved singing – and had a talent for it too.

      ‘Very cool,’ agreed Gabriel, ‘but you have to get in first.’

      ‘We’d better get started on those practice tests, hadn’t we?’ said Marianne, giving Steven a hug. Since the idea of Middleminster had first been mooted in the autumn, she had occasionally run through a past paper with Steven. He was a bright boy, and she saw no reason why he couldn’t get in, but he needed more experience of the entrance tests if he were to stand a chance. Marianne looked at Gabe and gave him an encouraging smile. She knew how hard this was for him. On the one hand, he wanted to give his son the best chance he could have, of course he did. But on the other, Gabe had no desire to lose Steven to a choir school fifty miles away, despite Marianne’s pointing out it was a good opportunity if Steven wanted to take it.

      ‘Mum says Darren knows someone at the school who might be able to help,’ said Steven.

      ‘I gathered that,’ said Gabe. ‘If you’re going to get in, I’d rather you

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