Diane waited a couple of days before inviting Larry over. She wanted to tell him, to his face, that what he could expect in nine months did not involve the kind of toys he might have initially imagined. Anna and her mother offered to go out and give them some privacy but Diane was adamant they should be there.
‘You have to be here.’ Diane looked at her tummy. ‘I mean, what if he takes it really badly and I’m all alone?’
Anna nodded, knowing full well what that felt like. ‘Don’t worry. We’ll be here. Mum and I will stay in the kitchen, out of your way until you need us.’
There was a knock at the door and Anna and her mother rushed off to the kitchen, leaving Diane to greet Larry. She’d clearly decided she would prefer to tell him on the doorstep because the door closed and their voices grew muffled. Anna started to make tea, but the waiting game proved too much for her mother, who poured herself a brandy.
‘Do you think he’s going to do a runner like your Simon?’
‘I hope not, for Diane’s sake, but she’ll be fine either way.’
‘I know we never really spoke about it but I think the way you handled it all was wonderful.’
Anna looked up, wondering if she had heard right. ‘Really?’
‘Yes.’ Her mother paused, looking at the table. ‘I know I can be an old witch sometimes and I probably should be a bit nicer to you, but there you go, I’ve said it now. Yes, I really admired the way you kept going.’
‘Gosh, thanks, Mum.’ She smiled to herself. ‘That means a lot to me.’
‘That’s not to say I think all of your parenting has been spot-on.’
‘Of course,’ Anna said, allowing normality to resume.
Diane burst into the kitchen holding Larry’s hand. ‘We’re engaged!’
‘What?’ Anna said, dropping the teaspoon onto the counter. ‘Engaged?’
‘Yeah, I just explained to Larry that we’re not going to have a threesome, but, instead, we’re having a baby. Then he says…’ She drew breath, too excited to speak. ‘You tell them what you said, Larry.’
Larry smiled, pushing his hand through his dreadlock-free hair. ‘I said something like, “That’s flipping A. Let’s go to Vegas and get married.”’
‘I then point out that we’re broke and he says we should just head to a registry office and do the deed.’ Diane’s eyes glistened. ‘We’re going to be like a proper little family.’
Anna rushed over and hugged them both. ‘That’s amazing. I’m genuinely made up for you both. Have you set a date? I mean obviously you’ve only had, like, two minutes to discuss it but…’
‘As soon as possible,’ Larry said, putting his arm around her shoulders. ‘What are we waiting for?’
Diane shrugged and flashed Anna a goofy grin. ‘The girl done good.’
Anna smiled. ‘Yeah, the girl done good.’
‘I’ll have to see if I can’t get Tony down the aisle too,’ her mother said.
Anna turned quickly. ‘What? You want to marry Tony?’
‘Why not?’ She drank the remainder of her brandy. ‘There’s life in the old dog yet.’
‘Mum,’ Anna said, sitting, ‘I know, but you’re actually thinking about marrying again? Really?’
‘Darling, I was talking about Tony. He’s the old dog whereas I’m just getting started.’
‘God,’ Anna said, now pouring herself a large brandy. ‘Am I the only one here with no sign of a love life?’
No one spoke.
Two days later, Anna couldn’t believe she was allowing herself to be fitted out in a white and gold, skin-tight jumpsuit and blonde wig. Diane was fussing around her feet, ensuring the flares fell neatly over her gold heels.
‘Where, dare I ask, do you even find stuff like this?’
‘Linda found this place in Cheltenham. It’s a dream.’
‘Of sorts,’ Anna said, scratching at her hairline. ‘This thing is so itchy, and look…’ She pointed to her costume. ‘I can’t go onstage wearing something this tight. It’s almost indecent.’
‘Sexy is what it is, my friend.’ Diane stood, suddenly a foot shorter than Anna as she was wearing jazz shoes and a Freddie Mercury costume.
‘Remind me again why you’re wearing a Queen costume when we’re singing “Dancing Queen”? Won’t that just confuse everyone?’
Diane grinned. ‘Because when I saw it I realised I could fulfil one of the many things on my bucket list.’
‘To dress up like Freddie Mercury?’
‘To become Freddie Mercury. There’s a massive difference.’
‘How are you going to do that singing Abba?’ Anna sat down, kicking off the heels already threatening to cut the blood flow to her legs.
‘I’ve got a little something up my sleeve. Or should I say, Larry and I have a little something up our sleeves?’
‘Oh God.’ Anna rubbed her feet. ‘Rosie was so right to be ill.’
‘I think it’s genuine,’ said Diane. ‘She sounded devastated on the phone.’
‘I bet she thought her world was going to end,’ Anna said drily.
Freddie and Antonia ran into the kitchen and broke into giggles.
‘This is what I want to be when I’m bigger,’ Freddie said pointing at Diane. ‘Auntie Dee-Dee said I could because my name’s the same.’
Freddie Mercury’s history flashed through Anna’s mind and she smiled. ‘Or you could be a vet. Or a doctor?’ she said hopefully.
‘No, wanna be a rock star and die early.’
Anna looked at Diane who cocked her head on one side and said, ‘You can’t crush a kid’s dream.’
‘Do you want to be like me, Toni?’ Anna said.
‘No, you look silly.’ She skipped from the room, Freddie following close behind before Anna heard Antonia scream.
Anna rushed, barefoot, from the kitchen and found the twins curled up on the floor laughing.
‘Grandma Linda.’ Antonia pointed and Anna looked up the stairs to find her mother dressed in white, knee-high boots, a white dress that came to her knees, and a white cloak with fur wrapped around her shoulders. Her hair had been backcombed within an inch of its life and stood up and out at all angles.
‘Grandma Linda put her finger in the socket,’ said Freddie through his giggles, setting Antonia off again.
‘Right,’ her mother said, shooting the twins a hard stare, ‘are we ready?’
Anna helped the twins up and solemnly held her hand across her heart. ‘I, your mother, Anna Compton, do solemnly swear that this will be the last time I dress up as a member of Abba and I swear I will try to sing at least one note in tune.’
Minutes later, the twins had piled into Diane’s car and Anna was leading the convoy to the school. She found the reflection of a female Freddie Mercury in her rear-view mirror disconcerting, but no more so than her sixty-year-old mother, by her side, puckering her lips and admiring herself in a handheld mirror.
They arrived at the school gates and Anna noticed that the saner parents had decided just to watch the show and not participate. Anna climbed out of the car, all too aware of the looks she was getting from women and men perfectly kitted out in Joules and Boden. Angela spotted Anna and came over in a few long-legged strides.
‘Amy, you look divine. What are you? No, don’t tell me… A clown? No, actually, I think you’re that man out of that bank ad…’ She watched Anna’s face. ‘No? Oh, go on then, tell me.’
‘We’re meant to be Abba.’ Anna gestured to her mother and Diane. ‘Only, the fourth member is ill.’
‘How splendid.’ Angela flicked her straight red hair to the left and then to the right, and then back to the left. ‘I didn’t know Charlie Chaplin was in Abba.’ She looked at Diane. ‘You learn something new every day.’ She turned on her heels. ‘Anyway, must be off as I’m introducing Lucinda’s dressage. She prepared a few words for me.’
Anna watched her lope towards the school gates and they followed suit. Mrs Beecham stood at the entrance to the hall greeting everybody and, on seeing Anna, smiled and waved.
‘Wow. You all look marvellous. What an effort you’ve gone to. Brilliant. Now, we’ll be starting in about ten minutes and I believe you’re up after Lucinda, who’s after little Charles on the recorder.’ Mrs Beecham looked at the twins over her spectacles. ‘Now, what are you two doing?’
‘I’m playing drums,’ Freddie said proudly. ‘Antonia is playing the triangle.’
‘Wonderful.’ Mrs Beecham looked up at Anna. ‘Great that you’re all getting involved and in the spirit of it.’
‘Yes, we’re very excited,’ Anna said, pushing down her nerves. ‘Where’s Lucinda’s dressage being shown?’
‘She’ll be linked up to the big screen at the front of the hall. I believe Angela is au fait with all the technology involved.’
Anna nodded and smiled before heading backstage. Larry was waiting for them, wearing an incredibly convincing long, frizzy wig, and T-shirt and jeans.
‘God, how have you managed to grow you hair over two days? I want whatever you’re getting,’ said Anna smiling.
‘Steady on.’ Diane kissed Larry on the lips.
‘No, it’s my dreadlocks. I don’t need the hairpieces any more so I decided to backcomb them.’ He paused and looked at Anna’s mother. ‘I look a lot like you, Linda.’
‘I’d say not,’ her mother said, jutting out her chin.
‘Why don’t you need the hairpieces now, Larry?’ Anna said as she rammed her forefinger between her scalp and the wig in a last-ditch effort to relieve the itching.
‘I’m going to be a dad. I was only doing all that stuff because I was young with no direction.’
‘And now,’ Anna said, ‘you’re forty-eight hours’ older and dressed up like Brian May. Brilliant.’
‘Exactly,’ Larry said smiling.
Mrs Beecham’s voice boomed through the hall as she announced the first performer. ‘I’d like you all to put your hands together for Charles Bray who will be performing ‘Mary Had a Little Lamb’ on his recorder.’
A round of applause erupted and Anna, surprised at the level of noise, had a peek out at the audience. ‘Crikey, it’s full. Can’t you lot go and perform alone? Not sure I can do this.’
‘You said that about the bake sale and the pork pie competition and you did those,’ Diane whispered. ‘You’re a natural.’
‘At what? Making a tit of myself?’
‘Yep, something like that.’
Minutes later, the final squeak of Charles’s recorder sounded and everybody clapped. A man in the front row stood and wolf-whistled.
‘That’ll be you one day,’ Anna said to Larry, who grinned back at her like the cat who’d got the cream.
‘And now,’ Mrs Beecham said, ‘Angela would like to introduce our next act.’
Angela bounded onto the stage. ‘Hi everyone, Lucinda asked me to say a few words. She wrote them for me. So here goes…’ Angela cleared her throat. ‘As you will all know, Lucinda Deville is a woman of many talents and that’s why she’s my best friend. She won the baking competition here only a couple of weeks ago and today is going to show us what an amazing horsewoman she is via a live link. She really is an asset to this school and I’m sure we all wish we could be more like her.’ She smiled at the audience but no one stirred except for a woman at the back who snorted. ‘Right. Well, now I will press the appropriate button to join Lucinda via satellite link.’ Angela pressed a remote and the screen behind flickered to life. ‘Enjoy, everyone.’
Anna glanced at the giant screen and, when she saw Lucinda, her hand flew to her mouth. The audience, quickly registering the situation, simultaneously gasped. Lucinda standing in a dressage ring, fully kitted out in her riding gear, talking on her mobile. She had a long glass of something in her hand and she was ranting.
‘Oh yeah, Rupert, that’s the way to be a man… What? You thought you’d ring me and let me know you’ve left for the Bahamas. You’re a stupid… What did you just call me?’ She started to pace. ‘You hear me? You’re an absolute pillock. I mean, you don’t even have enough imagination to run off with someone outside of your office?’ There was a long pause. ‘Oh no. Don’t give me that, Rupert. I’m going to take you to the cleaners.’
Anna cringed and looked at Angela, who stood, frozen, on the stage, her mouth gaping like a goldfish.
‘I mean,’ Lucinda continued, ‘you had an affair with your sodding PA. You tell me her name like I’ve never heard it before. Yeah, well, just thought you should know, Rupert…’ She stopped moving. ‘I don’t care because I happen to know that Belinda is a bimbo, and not only that, you moron…’
Anna watched Lucinda wobble. ‘Not only that, I’ve already kissed her and it’s like being stuck in a washing machine. But mainly you should know, I couldn’t give a flying one because I love women and I’m in love with Angela.’
The audience gasped and stared at Angela, who turned to look at the audience.
‘First I knew,’ she said, giggling nervously. ‘I think I’d better just give Lucinda a ring.’
Anna looked over to Mrs Beecham, at the back of the hall, desperately jabbing at the computer’s keyboard to no avail. As Angela walked hurriedly past, Mrs Beecham grabbed her by the arm. Angela, looking terrified, shrugged and ran out the back of the hall.
Anna’s eyes returned to the screen in wonder. ‘You know, Rupert, I’m hanging up now because I have to ring Angela and find out when I’m on. I can’t believe you would choose today of all days to do this. I have dressage to perform.’ She jabbed at the phone, cutting the call, and then, on hearing her ringtone, focused on her mobile once more.
‘Speak of the devil.’ Lucinda answered, ‘Hi, darling one. Rupert’s left me. Oh, you know already? There’s something I want to tell you actually… What?’ She turned slowly towards the camera and stared down its lens. ‘Oh, I didn’t think I’d switched it on yet.’ Lucinda stood up straighter, the phone clamped to her ear and her mouth started to twitch. ‘Right. OK. Thanks.’
She finished the call and dropped her shaking hand to her side.
‘Um,’ she started and came up close to the camera. ‘Hello, dear audience. I join you live this evening from my home.’ She paused. ‘So, I hope you all enjoyed my piece of improv. I decided, as a woman of many talents, to ditch the dressage and concentrate on my acting. So, that piece was called…’ She paused. ‘That piece was called Marital Hiccup and, needless to say, the events mentioned in the piece were all fictional and, while you may have recognised the names, there is no link between the names and events depicted.’ She smiled at the audience, her smile cracking. ‘Thank you, dear watchers, and back to you in the studio.’ She nodded, walked over to the camera and could be heard muttering, ‘How do you turn this off? I need to turn the sodding thing off.’
Mrs Beecham moved slowly towards the front of the hall, the audience now silent. She climbed the steps to the stage and cleared her throat. ‘Well,’ she said, clasping her hands together, ‘that was fun. I’ll just say that we weren’t expecting that, so please don’t take offence at the content, but…’ She nodded unconvincingly. ‘Didn’t she put on a fine performance?’
A spattering of applause came from the audience and a mother and her three children got up to leave.
‘Anyway, on a lighter note, we now have the fabulous Abba and Queen montage I’ve heard so much about it so, if Miss Anna Compton and her family and friends would make their way to the stage…’ She nodded at Anna. ‘Keep it clean!’ Mrs Beecham let out an hysterical laugh and descended the steps.
Anna looked at Diane, panic in her eyes.
Diane shrugged. ‘Listen, whatever we do now will look like a work of genius after Moose-inda’s nervous breakdown.’
‘True.’ Anna took a deep breath and walked out onto the stage. She looked out at the audience and spotted Horatio in the front row with Jeremy by his side. ‘Hi, everyone.’ She nodded at Larry who smiled and pressed a button on the karaoke system he had brought with him. As the intro started up, she thought she might be sick. She opened her mouth and was amazed when actual words came out.
‘You can dance, you can jive, having the time of your life…’ Anna could hear the pitchy notes erupting from her mouth and she wanted to run, but the audience started to get to their feet. Within seconds, everyone was up and clapping out of sync with one another.
Diane and her mother joined her onstage singing, ‘Friday night and the lights are low…’
As they reached the chorus, sounding like a trio of angry cats, the audience burst into song, ‘You are the dancing queen, young and sweet, only seventeen.’
Anna turned to see Freddie hitting his single drum as hard as he could with his sticks and Antonia threw in a ‘ching’ on her triangle whenever it suited her. She could hear how awful they sounded but grinned out at the audience all the same. She threw herself into the moves, writhing her body to the left and then to the right like she, too, was seventeen again. As her confidence grew, she threw in some Elvis-esque wobbly knee moves and a couple of urban-dislocating-neck-type manoeuvres. Horatio had started to spin like only people of a certain age can and Jeremy had his hands over his eyes as he tried to blot out the sight of his father ruining his primary school street cred in one fell swoop. Anna smiled as she watched Horatio adopt a sixties jive action, her heart momentarily fluttering when he bent down to ruffle Jeremy’s hair.
The music came to an end and the audience cheered for more. Larry changed CDs over as quickly as he could, once he had skipped through a couple of tracks involving Phil Collins and Enigma’s ‘Return to Innocence’.
‘That’s the song we did it to,’ Diane whispered excitedly, and Anna was thankful they weren’t miked up.
‘Bohemian Rhapsody’ started and Anna looked at Diane with desperation. It was one thing to survive an Abba song, but a song with a million harmonies was a challenge too far.
Then, out of nowhere, the young men and women Anna recognised from the anti-hunt protest joined them onstage, entering from both sides, singing, ‘Is this just real life? Is this just fantasy?’
The most wondrous part of all was that they were actually in tune and sounded like they had been through an intensive course with Gareth Malone.
‘Before we took up protesting, we all sang in the college’s choir,’ Larry said out of the side of his mouth.
‘Anna,’ Diane whispered from the other side, ‘you’re meant to be facing forward.’
Anna turned and then, as if they had practised it many times before, the choir stopped and Anna, Diane, Larry and Linda broke into, ‘Mama, just killed a man…’
Someone in the audience let out a whoop and, to Anna’s amazement, everyone got back on their feet and started to sway, some pretending to hold lighters. Anna had a flashback to her first ever Take That concert and beamed out at the audience.
‘We should go professional,’ Diane whispered as the choir started up behind them.
‘One step at a time,’ Anna said through her teeth.
As they sang the final note, the audience clapped and whistled, begging for more. Mrs Beecham, her faith in humanity restored, ran up onto the stage and kissed Anna on the cheek.
‘Thank you,’ she said. ‘You’re an absolute star.’
Anna blushed and gestured to her mother and Diane. ‘These are the real heroes.’
Mrs Beecham looked out at the audience. ‘Well, there you go, what a talented family Miss Compton has, right?’ The audience cheered again. ‘Now, we’re going to hear Agamemnon read from,’ she consulted her notes, leaning towards Anna as she whispered, ‘does that really say Ulysses?’ She looked bemused as Anna nodded. ‘Yes,’ Mrs Beecham confirmed, ‘Agamemnon, aged six, will be reading from Ulysses.’
A man at the back groaned and someone called out, ‘We want more music.’
‘Anyway,’ Mrs Beecham said, ignoring the heckler, ‘let’s give our thanks once more to Anna Compton and Co. What a splendid job they’ve done.’
Anna smiled and left the stage, Diane close at her heels, as Larry rushed past them to pause Whitney Houston in full flow. The twins skipped up behind them, Freddie still trying to put a hole in his drum and Antonia determined that everyone would leave with tinnitus.
‘Where’s Mum?’ Anna said as she looked back at the stage where her mother was bowing elaborately for the audience and giving royal waves up to non-existent boxes.
‘Uh, Mrs Compton?’ Mrs Beecham could be heard gently persuading her mother to take stage right. ‘We really do have to get this show on the road.’
Anna, rolling her eyes, walked onto the stage and took her mother by the arm before dragging her off.
‘Darling, I’m having my moment. They love me.’
‘They did love you. Soon, they will throw something at you.’
‘Wasn’t it brilliant?’ her mother said, eyes glistening. ‘No, let’s be honest, wasn’t I brilliant?’
‘You were great,’ Anna said.
A young boy of about ten trotted over to them and introduced himself as the school’s newspaper editor. Anna knew this actually consisted of a photocopied side of A4 that went out to the parents once a month. Her mother, on hearing the word ‘newspaper’, pushed herself forward and smiled at the boy.
‘Let me tell you, son, how I came to be the star I am today. Everything you saw up there this evening was down to me.’
He looked up at her in earnest. ‘OK.’ The boy started to read the list of questions he had clearly been told to prepare earlier.
‘What’s your name?’ said the boy.
‘Dame Linda Compton.’
‘Dame?’ Anna said, shaking her head.
‘What’s your age?’
‘Cheeky,’ her mother said. ‘Forty.’
Anna stared in disbelief at her mother.
‘OK,’ the boy said, slowly scribbling the answers down, pressing the pencil hard into the paper. ‘Two more questions.’
‘Hit me with them, son.’
‘What’s your favourite colour?’
‘Oh,’ her mother said, ‘pink, I guess. No, scratch that, gold.’ She paused. ‘Because, like me, it shines.’
Anna felt for the boy who had stopped writing, as he had clearly never received the answer ‘gold’ before.
‘OK.’ He looked up at her mother. ‘Do you prefer Spongebob Squarepants or Hannah Montana?’
Anna smiled at her mother’s confusion. ‘They’re TV programmes.’
‘Oh yes, I know them.’ Her mother smiled slowly. ‘Well, it would have to be Hannah Montana because of that Miley Cyrus. I think what she can do with a ball is quite amazing.’
The boy nodded. ‘I prefer Spongebob.’
‘Yes,’ her mother said, lowering her gaze, ‘but can Spongebob twerk? I think not.’