14
Everyone still good for tomorrow night at Julie’s? Been a bit too busy to read the book, but I am definitely on for the vino! M xx
Madeleine smiled as she sent a quick group text to the members of her monthly book club. The group was due to meet at another member’s house the following evening, and while events of the last few weeks meant that she would have to forgo discussion of this month’s title, she was very much looking forward to kicking back with a (very large) glass and a gossip.
“Come on, guys, time to go!” she called upstairs to the kids, once again having to rush them out for a long-overdue trip to their grandmother’s house.
Tom wouldn’t be coming to Harriet’s with them this time, as he was putting in extra hours at work to try to make up for the time off he’d taken when Clara was ill. Madeleine was fine with that; she certainly didn’t want to have to miss out on their usual two weeks in Portugal this summer because of dried-up annual leave.
She was just checking if the kids had correctly secured themselves into the back seat of her little Audi Speedster (Jake in particular was a demon for not clicking the belt in properly) when her phone beeped with a reply from Julie Wells, host of tomorrow night’s book club.
Probably best to leave it this time, Madeleine. Talk soon.
Madeleine frowned. Weird—was Julie really holding it against her that she hadn’t read this month’s selection? Especially when the book was usually just an excuse to get together for a glass and a gossip? There were always one or two members who made an attempt at a discussion if the title in question was particularly good or controversial, but most of the time the aim of the club was forgotten within the first half hour and the remainder of the evening spent catching up and having a laugh.
And Madeleine badly needed a laugh; it felt like she’d been cooped up forever when Clara was ill, and since her daughter’s recovery she’d been mostly underwater trying to catch up on work. She wanted to glam up a bit in nice clothes and heels and spend the night having a good old gossip.
You sure? I really don’t mind coming along anyway. I can just stay quiet in the corner for the discussion part (difficult, I know!) and then join in for the fun bit afterward.
The reply came back almost immediately.
Honestly, it’s not a good idea. Maybe next time.
Sitting into the driver’s seat, Madeleine frowned. Was it just her or did Julie’s reply seem...curt?
Who’d have thought reading the book every time was such a big deal? And it wasn’t like her club buddy to be so rigid about the rules, either.
It was one of the reasons Madeleine enjoyed the group meetings so much, actually—the gang was a bunch of Knockroe locals, some of whom she’d grown up with, others fellow parents she’d gotten to know since the kids started school, and a great mix of both working and stay-at-home mums and a couple of singletons. All of whom supported her blog and had in fact urged Madeleine to expand the business when both of her children would be at school. So why this holier-than-thou response?
Then the thought struck her as she drove toward her mother-in-law’s house. Had she perhaps hit a nerve with that more recent article, the one about the playgrounds?
She supposed a couple of the women at the club could be miffed about the whole “helicopter parent” thing, and there was always the risk of people assuming Madeleine was writing about them whenever she mentioned real-life instances. But there was no question she thought about any of her friends in that way, and the last thing she’d ever do was use her blog to poke fun at any real person.
She sighed. The downside of Mad Mum’s more controversial slant...
Madeleine really hoped this wasn’t the cause of her friend’s ire, but maybe she’d phone Julie when she and the kids got back from Harriet’s later.
Just in case.
* * *
“I’m just so glad that this ordeal is behind you, sweetheart.” Madeleine smiled as Clara’s grandmother pulled her in close and embraced her in a hug.
Her youngest was still a bit despondent and tired after her ordeal at school today, but, all in all, she had recovered well and seemed excited by her first social outing in weeks. Not the most adventurous jaunt, admittedly, but Madeleine was happy to see some color in her daughter’s cheeks as she embraced her grandmother.
“And you must be feeling considerably better, too,” said Harriet, glancing at Madeleine. It wasn’t a question. “Of course you are. What parent wouldn’t be counting their lucky stars? Measles, my goodness.”
Madeleine nodded and gave a small smile, tucking a strand of blond hair behind her ear. She had always gotten along very well with her mother-in-law, but now felt a little uncomfortable. Harriet knew all about what had happened recently—and of course that Clara and Jake had never been vaccinated—but she was never sure how her mother-in-law felt about it.
Madeleine’s own mother thought she was an idiot for declining to vaccinate the kids and, when Jake had come down with measles, had wasted no time in telling her so.
Then again, Harriet had raised a freethinker like Tom and of course had been through it all with Fiona’s kids, too, so perhaps she wasn’t quite as critical of their choice as so many others.
“Too much conflicting information,” Tom had eventually concluded back then when they’d gone over the arguments for and against for the umpteenth time. “Not to mention way too many get-out clauses from the pharma companies. And as for the government,” he spat disdainfully, “only interested in maintaining herd immunity, and couldn’t give a hoot about individuals.”
And while it wasn’t quite so easy for Madeleine to believe that last part about the government not caring, based on research, she tended to agree with him on the other points. Even now, it didn’t seem like a week went by without some related controversy in the news about other vaccinations, like the troubling side effects from the HPV jab in young girls, and the horrible instances of narcolepsy in some children following swine-flu shots.
“And how is the other little girl?” Harriet asked now as she pulled back Clara’s hair and began plaiting it in a French braid.
“Still in the hospital, I’m afraid,” offered Madeleine quietly. “I actually tried to call Kate—the mother—earlier to see how things were.” She really wished she’d had the opportunity to talk to Rosie’s mum personally rather than hide behind voice mail, because she truly didn’t want Kate to think that she didn’t care or was indifferent to their plight. She had just come out of a similar trauma, and she couldn’t even imagine what it would be like if Clara was the one who’d ended up in the hospital.
“And her prognosis?” Harriet pushed, and by her tone Madeleine guessed her mother-in-law had something on her mind. Much like her son, she was very forthcoming with her opinions and while usually Madeleine appreciated that in a person, she wasn’t in the mood for disapproval or recrimination of the kind she’d already gotten from Frank Barrett.
“Getting better, I believe,” she said noncommittally, though she couldn’t be sure whether or not this was true. She just didn’t want to go down this rabbit hole with Harriet now.
Luckily, a sound from upstairs, where Jake was playing, temporarily diverted the other woman’s attention.
“Sweetheart, why don’t you go see what your brother is up to?” Clara’s grandmother urged her gently. “And if it’s just boring boy stuff, come back down and we’ll figure out something fun to do.”
Uh-oh, there’s a lecture coming for sure...
Clara duly headed in the direction of the noise, allowing Harriet to sit back on the sofa and run a hand through her cropped ash-blond hair as she regarded her daughter-in-law.
“You do know, dear, that the outbreak has been mentioned in the local news... Aren’t you worried—given your profile—about people making the connection?”
Madeleine shrugged, surprised. “Even if they did, I don’t see why it would be an issue, Harriet. I mean, even if a connection is made to Clara, it’s not like I’m trying to hide something. Tom and I have always been up-front about our preferences. Not everyone agrees with our stance—I know that—but at the end of the day we have nothing to hide. Besides, it’s hardly a ‘measles outbreak’—only two kids have been affected and one is already better.”
Harriet cocked her head and raised her eyebrows. “You really think people aren’t talking? Only yesterday I heard somebody in the shop downtown discussing it.”
“Talking about what?”
“About the fact that it seems Clara passed a highly infectious—preventable—disease onto a vulnerable classmate. People don’t look too kindly on those who go against conventional medical wisdom, as I’m sure you know—especially educated, intelligent people.”
Madeleine was somewhat stung; firstly, by the idea that people in Knockroe had been talking, but particularly at the thinly veiled insult to her and Tom’s intelligence. She’d thought that Harriet of all people should understand the root of their reasoning.
“That’s not to say that I agree with these people, Madeleine,” her mother-in-law added, which mollified her somewhat, “but you must admit, it’s not a good situation. And my advice to you—as someone who is occasionally, and it seems increasingly, in the public eye—is you would do well not to court any controversy.”
Madeleine couldn’t think of a reply to this and, after a beat, in which the two women sat in awkward silence, Harriet continued, “My point is that it might be best for you to lie low for a while, dear, perhaps not be so quick to move on and forget? Of course, I appreciate now that Clara is better—thank goodness—you want to put the whole frightening episode behind you and get on with your life, but the other little girl is still in the hospital and people tend to have awfully...strong opinions about these things. If I were you, I might think about how I would respond if a wider audience—the general public, I mean—makes the connection and perhaps wants to proffer their opinions.”
Madeleine thought about it. She understood where Harriet was coming from, but it wasn’t as if she used the blog or any other media she was involved in to foist her opinions on anyone else. Mad Mum was only ever intended as a lighthearted, jokey take on motherhood, and a million miles away from a serious forum about the pros and cons of childhood vaccination. She’d started it for that very reason, as a foil to the more prevalent How to Be a Perfect Mum brigade.
And what were the chances of her audience making such a connection, in any case? No, Harriet was just playing devil’s advocate after overhearing the obligatory gossip and mutterings of a small town like Knockroe.
Her mother-in-law was simply making a mountain out of a molehill, Madeleine was sure of it.
Once little Rosie O’Hara got out of the hospital, the whole thing would be forgotten about in no time.