I'm glad I wrapped up well this morning, it's bitter. Holding the lollipop with these thick gloves is always hard, but it's better than having my hands frozen to the metal.
Of course my first child across to school, like every morning, is our Stac
ey.
"Over you go, love, straight in now, no dawdling at the gate."
"Ok, Nan".
She smiles at me. It goes straight to my heart. I watch her into the playground from the middle of the road, holding the lollipop steady. They can wait.
That's really why I took on crossing attendant instead of the cleaning I was doing. Claire has to be at work for quarter to nine dead on, and it's such a good job, if she carries on the way she is she'll be a PA in the end, you'll see. So it's down to me to get Stacey to school in one piece. And back of course.
Claire's that clever in some ways, it beats me how she's been mixed up with so many useless men. Though I say it as shouldn't. Most of them total pillocks, like Stacey's dad, Jimmy. Not that we saw him for dust once he realized he'd put Claire in the club. Down to him she missed her GCSEs.
"Hello sweetheart. Are they for your teacher? She'll like them, won't she?"
Little lad from round the corner, too young to be off to school on his own if you ask me. Hope he didn't get those daffs from someone else's front garden. Over he goes. Traffic beginning to get a bit thicker. What silly bugger parked that white van in the bus lay by? Now the bus can't get right in, and that means cars can't get past, and that means they're in my way.
"Mister! Yes, you. See this lollipop? That means stop!" Drivers seem to think they're in a world of their own once they get behind the wheel.
Her latest took the biscuit. Dale. No idea what she saw in him. I knew as soon as I clapped eyes on him he was a nasty piece of work. Whatever she says, it wasn't the shaved head and tattoos. I'm not prejudiced, and anyway Claire has a very nice tattoo on the middle of her back. It's not the outside that counts, it's the inside. I could tell he was the type would turn nasty if you crossed him. Claire just saw the muscles: Dale's into body building.
Yes, it's do what I say not do what I did, I'll give you that – but is there any reason why Claire can't learn from my mistakes? Dale thinks the world owes him one. Never an offer to help when he's been round, and that's been almost every evening. He looked at me as if I'd asked him to take his clothes off when I suggested he could rinse the cups out and make us some tea last week.
"Hello Mrs Ziga, Hello Emilia." At least Emilia says hello back, her mum just stares at me. They're gypsies though, only moved in a few months back from somewhere eastern European. It's that new EU stuff. No English, must be a nightmare getting about. And here's the rest of them right behind, don't ask me how you say this lot's name.
"Hello Mrs Bill-hovia. Hello Ivan." It's something like that. Not sure about the other two, they must have just arrived. Nice little lad, Ivan, always has a smile. Beats me why they'd move across Europe to a dump like this, they didn't get those dark faces from winters like ours. If I was living somewhere with a bit of sunshine, I'd stay there.
I'll wait for the pedestrian lights to change for this bunch, there's too much traffic to just walk out there with the lollipop.
"Won't be a minute sweetheart."
Of course Dale had views about the gypsies. In fact I should be blessing the gypsies because if he hadn't laid into them a couple of nights back Claire might still be with him. All because I asked Claire whether Stacey could have Emilia round to play. Same age, and she seems a nice quiet child, not like some of the others in Stacey's class. I thought they'd be upstairs for a bit and I'd get a bit of a sit down. Otherwise it's me has to keep Stacey amused until Claire gets back.
The language he used! More effing than blinding, throwing the 'c' word about, and in my front room too. There's a time and place for that sort of language and having tea in front of the tele's not it. I told him that straight away. But I was proud of my girl. She really gave him what for. And then he showed his true colours. For a moment I thought he was going to smack her one, and I was all set to call the police. I would have, you know.
In the end she told him to get out, it was all off. This was in the passage. I'd grabbed Stacey because I could see she was terrified, poor lamb. I'd have put my hands over her ears if it would have done any good. The door went with an almighty crash, and it was a mercy the glass didn't go. Then Claire was back into the front room in tears.
"Mum, he said he'd blow the lot of them to kingdom come," she sobbed. I put my arms round her too. Three of us in one big hug.
"Load of hot air. Don't take on so, he isn't worth the tears."
That was why I told her to go out last night. She's very good you know, doesn't gallivant off leaving me with Stacey, just the evening classes and the Saturday night usually. Most of her pay goes on her keep. And on Stacey of course. But she looked so down when she came in from work I told her she needed a break. It turned out some of her Saturday crowd were off to town because it's the night when you get into clubs free if you're a woman. Anyway, quickest way to mend a broken heart is to find someone nicer. I didn't want Dale worming his way back.
Good thing she did go out, because I'd just settled down in front of the tele with Stacey off to bed when there was a bang, bang, bang on the front door. I peeked out the bay and it looked like a welcoming party on my doorstep, in a manner of speaking. So I kept the chain on. Believe me it would take an elephant to get past that, we've had too many thieves in over the years.
"Who's there?"
The door got a shove from the other side, but the chain stopped it with a jerk.
"We want to speak to Claire."
"Well she doesn't want to speak to you. I know you're there, Dale Andrews. She meant it last night."
"Oh it's you, Mrs fucking high-and-mighty."
"Don't give me that kind of language. Wash your mouth out. And keep your voice down, you'll wake our Stacey. Terrifying five year olds is about all you're good for."
Then a different voice, older. Nastier. More sure of himself.
"Mrs Leonard?"
"Who wants her?"
"Let's just say 'a friend'. One who doesn't want to see pikey trash mixing with nice little English girls. One who doesn't want to see our neighbourhood infested with gippo vermin."
I admit it, I saw red. Who did they think they were laying down the law to me on my own doorstep? I've had enough in my life of self-righteous bastards telling me what to do. That's my excuse anyway. I really gave them what for. Told them their pricks were so small I'd be round to sell their wives magnifying glasses if they'd found any woman daft enough to stay in the same room for longer than thirty seconds. Told Dale that Claire said he had all the muscles except the one that counted.
Dale didn't like that, there was another kick at the door and some more bad language. But the last thing I heard before they buggered off was the older voice.
"You'll regret your attitude Mrs Leonard. We know how to deal with traitors."
Load of hot air. I didn't mention it to Claire, no reason to upset her, though I stayed up to make sure she got back OK.
About time! The pedestrian lights have finally gone red. Quite a crowd to get over now. Maybe I should report the lights, get someone from the council to do an adjustment. They used to change really quickly.
"OK sweethearts, over we go."
The lollipop planted in the middle as they all start crossing, and I look up the road past the school.
What? Is that Dale? Standing on the pavement, in the distance. Looking at me. Smiling, but not in a nice way. I freeze for a second, lose track of where the kids are on the crossing, whether the lights are still red.
His hand comes up. Little bleeder is giving me the finger. But see if I care.
No, he isn't, he's getting his mobile out. His mobile? Who's he ringing? Not Claire?
"Oh Jesus." Not Claire. The white van. "The children! The white…."
