Super Mum!
I’d be the first to admit I’m far from being the perfect parent to Sylvie, Rose and Max – but is there even such a thing?
Can’t we have pancakes for breakfast?” Rose demanded as Anna tipped cornflakes into her bowl. “It is Pancake Tuesday.” “Pancakes! Pancakes!” Max agreed.
“Are you kidding?” Anna asked. “So far this morning, I’ve unloaded and reloaded the dishwasher, ironed Sylvie’s PE top, written that ‘absent’ note for you, Max, for that illness last week, where you were unable to go to school yet were strangely able to watch TV and eat all your meals.
“I’m hoping I find time to brush my teeth and comb my hair before I drop you off and get to work.
“When do you suppose I’d have time to whip up the batter for breakfast pancakes?”
“Told you not to say anything,” Sylvie grumbled. “There’s no point asking for anything nice in this family – you’ll only get mum’s tale of woe.”
Tale of woe? Honestly, if only people would help out just a little, instead of constantly adding to the list of demands.
“Any minute now,” Sylvie continued, “she’ll start on about ‘if only people would help out’. Predictable.”
Anna flinched. Sylvie was right. But it was true – if the kids would take on even a small number of chores, everyone would get the benefit.
Perhaps Anna could be a bit more fun and feel more like her true age of thirty-two, instead of a hundred and two.
It was her own fault, she knew. Since Neil had left, taking himself off to live 200 miles away, she’d been useless at getting the kids to help.
By the time she finished work, she didn’t have the energy to stand over them while they did the chores properly.
“Which means I end up doing everything,” she chided herself.
“You must stop being a doormat and try to remember you’re a person, too.”
“Did you put any pancakes in our lunch boxes, to make up for not having them at breakfast?” Rose asked.
Max opened his to check. “Nope. And it’s brown bread sandwiches – yuk. Why can’t we have white like our friends?”
“Brown’s healthier,” Anna said. “Look, I’ll try to remember to buy some pancakes in my lunch break and you can have them later. OK?”
“Couldn’t you make them yourself, like you used to?” Rose wanted to know.
“Rose, I wasn’t trying to hold down a full-time job back then. There’s only so much I can fit in.”
“Sorry we’re such a burden,” Sylvie said sulkily.
Even though Anna knew her elder daughter was being unfair, it still stung.
Anna threw herself through the doors at work, but nothing could disguise the fact that she was five minutes late.
As long as Mr Edwards didn’t see her, perhaps she could slide behind her desk unnoticed.
As she climbed the stairs, she shrugged out of her raincoat and tried not to look as though she’d only just arrived.
“Ah, Mrs Havers.”
Drat, here was her boss, standing at the top of the stairs.
“We were about to send out a search party for you. I’m sure you haven’t forgotten that you’re seeing Mr Cowan, our prospective new client, this morning.” Anna groaned inwardly. Cowan Cards had taken the world of greetings cards by storm in the past few years, and had emerged as a market leader.
If her little firm could secure provision of even a small share of their slogan and design needs, it would improve job security immeasurably and maybe allow them to expand.
As Anna started to recover her composure, she realised that a second man was standing at the top of the stairs, looking at his watch.
“Mr Cowan?” Anna stuck out her hand. “Anna Havers. Pleased to meet you.”
The man shook her hand without enthusiasm.
“Lucas Cowan. Now, can we get to work?”
Anna tried her very best to be friendly and accommodating – after all, she was attempting to persuade Cowan Cards to put quiteabitofworkher firm’s way.
But nothing seemed to impress Lucas Cowan.
He wanted to see their current range of Mother’s Day cards.
Anna presented him with a selection of designs, featuring beautifully photographed pink roses, prettily drawn daisies and soft-focus lilies.
Each card spoke of how wonderful the cherished recipient was and how devoted the sender.
Cowan made no comment as he studied each in turn, then set them tooneside. “Birthdays,” he said curtly. Anna again brought a selection of cards for Cowan to examine.
“At least you don’t go for some of those cringeworthy things masquerading as humour,” he pronounced.
“That’s an area Mr Edwards is reluctant to embrace,” Anna conceded. “We’re a family firm, with family values.
“We might not be to everyone’s taste, but we certainly couldn’t be accused of offending anyone.” “Quite.”
As the morning wore on, Anna brought out batch after batch
merchandise her firm had produced, and Lucas Cowan looked at everything with scarcely a word.
“I suppose a cup of coffee would be out of the question?”
“Sorry, I should have offered, Mr Cowan!” Anna apologised. “I’ll just put the kettle on.”
“I didn’t mean I was asking you to make me one,” he replied with the first hint of a smile. And please, call me Lucas. I was inviting you to be my guest, if there’s a decent place anywhere near here.”
“Oh. Well, Mario’s on the corner is really good.”
Lucas peered out the window.
“The rain seems to have stopped. Will we chance it?”
Over coffee, he became noticeably less dour. At least until Anna’s phone startled them both noisily.
“If it’s a call, take it. Don’t mind me,” he said, though he looked annoyed. It’s my alarm,” Anna explained. “It’s to remind me to buy pancakes for the kids.
“They were disappointed I didn’t make them for breakfast this morning, but who has the time?” Ah. Shrove Tuesday, of course. I can pop out for them on my lunch break. There’s a mini-supermarket in the next street.
“How many children do you have?”
“Three. Aged twelve, nine and seven – two girls and a boy in the middle.”
“So you and your husband are outnumbered! They must be quite a handful at times.”
“I thought it would get easier as they grew older, but that hasn’t gone to plan. Their dad met someone else and is on the other side of the country, so he’s not much help.
“Even though they can feed themselves and wash their own faces now, there’s a whole bunch of other stuff to keep me busy.
“Like having their friends round and keeping them in clothes and shoes, and managing their engagement with screens and social media.
“Plus, as I’m the only parent in situ, I’m the one who takes all the flak. Goodness, I’m making it sound grim! It isn’t really, or at least it won’t be when I work out how to let them be children yet still do their bit. Do you have any?” “No. Cowan Cards has been my ‘baby’ for the past five years.”
“I’m sure that’s just as demanding as a real, live, milk-guzzling one.”
“It’s certainly given me some sleepless nights, but great times, too, when a new deal comes off.
“Highs and lows, just like with a family, I suppose.
“But I probably think about it far too much – I haven’t had a holiday for years.”
“That’s not good for you. Everyone needs time out, no matter how much they love their work.”
“When do you get time out, Mrs Havers?” Lucas asked her. “Not often, by the sound of it, between the office and family.” “Anna, please.”
“So your kids, though you love them to bits, are lazy and ungrateful.”
Ouch! But true.
“That being the case,” he continued, “which of Mr Edwards’s delightful cards would you choose for these lazy, ungrateful children on the occasion of their birthdays?” Anna squirmed in her seat. Lucas nodded. “Exactly. Now we’re getting somewhere. All the cards you showed me this morning are for paragons – the perfect mother, perfect father, ideal son or daughter.”
“I don’t actually buy any of our designs for my family. It wouldn’t be sincere,” Anna confessed.
“So why keep on producing material you wouldn’t buy yourself? Technically your stuff’s great – I’m not faulting the quality. But I do have issues with your appeal.
“Do something about that and I could be interested.”
It wasn’t exactly the “yes” Anna was hoping for, but it wasn’t a “no”, either.
“You’ve been producing all this in your lunch hours?” Mr Edwards looked through Anna’s sheaf of designs. “Don’t you ever eat?”
“I bring a lunch in from home and have it at my desk,” Anna explained.
“It saves the pennies, plus I’m not tempted to buy things I don’t really need going round the shops.
“Anyway, it feels creative, coming up with original ideas. It’s what I trained for.”
It’s not our usual thing,” Mr Edwards mused, “but it’s firstrate. And you say you think this is the type of product young Mr Cowan is asking from us?”
“I believe so. A message that acknowledges that our nearest and dearest might not be perfect, but that we love them anyhow.”
As Lucas was still in the area when Mr Edwards called him, he made a second visit of the day. Gathered round Mr Edwards’s desk with the older man and Anna, he looked at the new designs.
First he smiled, then he chuckled.
“These are just what I’m looking for,” he said eventually.
“The right blend of dry wit and sincere affection – exactly how most of us respond to our loved ones.
“If you can produce these to the same quality as the other ranges you showed me this morning, I think we can do business.”
“Thank you, Anna,” Mr Edwards said with a warm smile. “That will be all.”
Which meant he was about to talk facts and figures to Lucas.
Anna slipped back to her desk. Half an hour later, she became aware of a figure looming over her. It was Lucas.
“After today’s success I feel like celebrating. Care to join me?” Anna hesitated.
“I have to get home. I pick up the kids from their childminder on my way there.”
“I expected that,” Lucas said with a smile. “I was hoping to kidnap the lot of you for the evening.
“This afternoon I did a bit of checking and I found that you have an authentic French crêperie in town. I took the liberty of booking an early table for five people.”
Anna almost said “no” as a reflex – going for a family meal with an attractive man simply wasn’t something she was used to. Then she thought of the soft, pale crêpes, and of Sylvie’s face when Anna would tell her a man would be joining them for their fancy French meal.
She’d been a doormat mum for long enough – it was time to push back.
“That sounds wonderful – but, as there are four of us, we’ll pay,” she insisted.
“Absolutely not!” Lucas replied.
“It’s that or no deal,” Anna answered.
Lucas looked thoughtful. “All right, then. I’ll be your dinner guest tonight. But next time, let’s make it dinner for two, on me.”
Having seen him out of the office, Anna could hardly wait to go home and change. Pancake Tuesday crêpes at Chez Gaspard called for a dress – remember those?
Add that to her new-found confidence in her creative ability, and the kids were about to meet a whole new mum!