Hedgehog
Not again! Jane muttered, reading the message in the WhatsApp group for Beechwood Nursery and chucking her phone onto the sofa beside her.
Whats happened, Mum? Emily paused her homework and glanced at her mother.
Another competition! Im so fed up with it! I mean, for whose benefit is it, really? And of course, they want it in by Thursday. Im on shift tomorrow for twenty-four hours. When am I supposed to fit that in?
Do you want me to do it? Emily pushed her algebra book aside. Im nearly done with my homework anyway. Well, except algebra, but Marthas going to let me copy hers tomorrow. That questions so dodgy, I havent got a clue. At least shell explain it.
No, love, you get on with your stuff. Thats quite enough! End of terms coming up, and youve got tests soon.
But what about Will hated last time. You remember how gutted he was when everyone else got a certificate and no one even looked at his model? And he actually made that himself
Thats exactly why! Jane grumbled, scowling deeper. Apparently, everyone else is born a Turner or Hepworth. If its something to draw, suddenly their kids are baby Constables. Its always the parents, of course, not the children. No way could a kid have made half those things from the last round. But thats not even the most frustrating bit.
What then?
The nursery teachers kept insisting all the crafts are by the kids! You should see themsome of that work would outfox a grownup
Mum, why doesnt anyone just say something? Everyone just carries on every time. Remember when it was like that in my Year 1 class? Then some parent finally said enoughs enough, or let the kids do it themselves.
That was when your teacher, Mrs Carter, pretty much washed her hands of you all?
Thats right! Emily giggled. We were all delighted, honestly. After that, Mrs Perkins said wed be doing things ourselves from then on. She caught Nina out for bringing a toy her mum had knitted for her. Gave her a bit of praise, then told us all to bring some wool and a crochet hook to next class. Remember?
Is that why I had to go round to all the neighbours hunting for wool in my pyjamas? Of course I remember.
So, Mrs Perkins sat Nina down and asked her to knit a little circle. Naturally, she couldnt. Ended up with a bad mark, didnt she? You honestly dont remember?
Slipped my mind Feels like ages ago now.
I reckon its the parents who should be getting the rewards for these silly competitions, not the kids. That way the kids wouldnt get so down about it. Emily zipped up her pencil case and stood. Fancy a cup of tea? I can read Will a story, too, if you like?
Now youre talking! Jane got up with a small groan and walked over to hug her daughter, kissing her on the side of the head. Youve grown so much! Cant even reach the top of your head nowjust like your dad
Mum, please Emily gently stepped back. Lets not talk about him.
We wont. Go on, put the kettle on. I need to make a few callsyour ideas just sparked something.
Jane gave Emily another squeeze, then nudged her gently. Off you go!
Watching her daughters perfect posture as she walked to the kitchen, Jane couldnt help but marvel at how odd genetics are. She herself was a curvy, well-built blonde, and so was Willstocky, fair, solid. Emily, meanwhile, looked like she was carved from porcelainslim, delicate, always in motion, with a long neck and fine wrists. Every inch her father and, before him, her paternal grandmother. Janes former mother-in-law had been a ballet dancernot a prima ballerina, just in the background, but still. Shed had that same elegant back, unbeatable willpower, and a stamina that kept her going all her days. And, unfortunately, a rather difficult personality. The only thing Emily didnt inherit was the nasty streak. Jane smiled fondly. Her daughter seemed to radiate a warmth everyone noticeda quality people couldnt help but take advantage of. Even when it backfired, Emily never changed, always finding someone to help.
Their house became a stopover for injured animals Emily rescued, nursed, and found homes for. Only the old cat, now huge, remained for good. Emily had found him one freezing winters morning. It was so bitter that schools were closed. Jane was on shift; Will was home from nursery with a bug. Leaving Will glued to cartoons and with strict instructions not to move, Emily realised they were out of onions for lunch. The corner shop was next door, so off she dashed. Coming back, right at the front step, she slipped and crashed impressively, then locked eyes with a pair of golden, honey-coloured cat eyes.
The cat was massive, black as coal, with matted fur and bald patches here and there, watery eyeslooking almost resigned, as if hed ended up there to finish his days. Emilys eyes prickled with tears but she swiped them away and asked, Are you cold? Fancy coming with me?
The cat said nothing, just tucking his frozen legs under him and staring, utterly indifferent.
Emily tried picking him up, but he was far too heavy. So she opened the blocks front door instead: Come in, its freezing. Weve got milk inside.
The cat looked at Emily, exhausted and hopeless, as if to say, Whod want me? She felt a pang and knelt down on the icy step. Dont be scared. Come on then. Youll freeze out here. I actually want you, you know.
The cat regarded her for ages, listened to her gentle voice, and suddenly nudged her hand with his big head and stood up.
There we go! Emily brightened, climbing painfully to her feet. Her back ached but not as badly as right after the fall. Dont worry about Willhes noisy but kind and never hurts anyone.
Jane shook her head when, the next day, she found herself confronted with this patchy, hulking creature in their flat. Emily, he probably wont last much longer
At least hell be warm, Mum.
I didnt say anything. He can stay
Jane didnt have the energy to argue. She was running on autopilot, dragging herself to work, doing what she could at home, caring for the children. Sometimes it felt like she was living in a world made of treaclesticky, stifling, slippery, utterly pointless. Except for the kids. They kept her going.
Her husband hadnt left right away. Hed spent more than a year flitting between Jane and the new woman, trying to work out where he was wanted more. Jane had long since stopped being happy about him being around, but still he lingered.
You dont really want me here, do you? But the kids love me.
They ended up living in separate rooms, the flat thankfully big enough. Emily never said a word when Jane moved into her daughters room, sleeping on the little sofa. Emily, for her age, understood far more than she should have.
Jane knew her ex now had another son, younger than Will. Jane had even seen the woman who took her placea pretty, blonde, model-type pushing a pram in the park. Another blonde, Jane thought wryly.
Six months after their separation, Jane for once walked home through the park after work instead of catching the Number 49 bus. She used to love the place. It was a mild autumn, leaves everywhere, and she let herself breathe, kick up the crisp leaves, and forget for a moment how lost she felt about whats next. Half an hour of wandering did more than all the rescue remedy shed been popping. She even chuckled, watching a cocky squirrel taunt a befuddled dog held by a tall, grey-haired gent. Tall Jane frowned. Her ex would look just like that when he was older. Hed be dignified, ex-military, walking with another womandefinitely not herjust like Jane always imagined. No summer holidays with grandkids on the coast, no hikes in Scotland, nothing she thought shed have.
She turned awayand there he was, strolling past, new son in tow.
Lifes funny the way it throws out a line to trip you up. That chance meeting erased all the what ifs. Jane just stood and watched him play with his new boy, then turned on her heel and left, knowing at last what had to happen.
That evening, she packed his things and, before he could start his familiar speech, said quietly, Go.
Normally hed have refused. But Emily, silent and serious, echoed softly, Go
After the door clicked shut, Jane slid down the wall in the hallway and Emily rushed over, worried. Mum, are you alright?
Jane closed her eyes for a moment, gathering herself, then opened them. Pop the kettle on, love. I could murder a cuppa
The children reacted differently to their fathers leaving. Will was young and barely noticed, especially since his father rarely spent time with them these days. Emily, though, took it hard. She said nothingnever wanting to burden her mumbut lay awake at night, staring at the shifting patterns the streetlights cast on the ceiling, trying to make sense of it all. Eventually, she exhausted herself into sleep.
It soon told on her. Emily became tense, tearful for no reason. Jane took her to see a counsellor but not much changed. What finally helped was the catdubbed Buster by the kids. They became oddly fond of the old beast who sometimes spooked Jane at night, appearing soundlessly in the kitchen when she crept around restlessly.
Why are you always awake? Jane would mutter as he settled next to her.
Buster never purred like other cats, never demanded cuddles. He just sat beside her, still and steady, and those silent late-night sits soon became Janes therapy. She would whisper her worries so as not to wake the childrenher fears and grief and anger. Everything she struggled to leave in the past. Maybe she swore, maybe she cried, but Buster never once walked away. Hed just sit, squinting his honey eyes, looking for all the world as though he understood.
Jane couldnt help noticing Emily seemed calmer, too. She guessed she wasnt the only one confiding in the cat late at night. When Jane said, as an aside, By the way, if you ever try to rehome him, Im vetoing that. He stays, Emily raised her eyebrows in surprise.
A year passed. Buster plumped upfur thick, no longer mangyand started looking like a proper housecat. When her friends asked Jane about her love life, shed laugh: Ive already met the best man! He puts up with all my rambling, adores the kids, barely asks for food, no socks left lying aroundabsolute dreamboat!
The thought of dating again made Jane queasy. She felt all broken bits and out-of-joint, no will to try again. The only thing keeping her going were Will and Emily.
There were, at least, no more endless competitions with Emilyher whole nursery and primary years had been a pleasant blur of parties and little dresses. With Will, it was another story. New staff, hyper-active parents on the committeeeveryone with endless enthusiasm and no time for normal working mums.
Janes ex, after she kicked him out, said shed get child support only through the courts, and not to count on anything until the judge said so. He knew, of course, Janes NHS salary wouldnt stretch to the old standard of living. He expected shed come crawling for help. She didnt. She just found a second job, worked herself to pieces but managednot asking for a penny. There was less and less time for the kids problems, though, no matter how hard she tried.
At first, it wasnt so badhow long could a homemade Gruffalo or a paper collage take, anyway? Emily pitched in too as much as she could. Will was insistent he wanted to make things himself. But, naturally, his crafts always ended up shoved on the back shelf, ignored. Eventually, Jane was called out and told off at a meeting in front of the whole groupshe couldnt think what to say. The choir of other parents protests cut the teachers lecture short. Jane sat down, cheeks burning with shame she couldnt quite explain, and vowed not to bother with those meetings ever again.
Calm down, everyone, Mrs Green, the nursery teacher, tried to soothe the crowd. Our children are our future! If we dont pour ourselves into them now, well regret it later. If you cant spare half an hour to help your child with a craft, then what kind of parent are you? Its a chance to bond
Jane tuned out, picturing Busters deeply unruffled stare and imagining herself later, curled up beside the cat, with the kids chattering away about their day. That, she decided firmly, would be her time from now on. No more wasting it on nonsense.
As soon as the meeting ended, Jane slipped out, brushing aside the committee leaders call. Jane, Ill give you a bell later!
Jane nodded politely, promising herself shed mute her phone.
That was a week ago. Todays message about the latest competition was the last straw. Enough is enough! If its a kids competition, then let the children do it! And if its for the parents Four quick phone calls to three mums and a dad from Wills group, and Jane had them all on board with her plan.
A week later, the celebration was the perfect chance for Janes quiet rebellion. She walked to nursery almost whistling. If nothing came of it, finebut from now on, no one would ever call her a bad mother again; shed never stand for anyone talking down to her or her children.
Wills model animal was, as usual, hidden on the furthest shelf. Jane strode over, shifted some suspiciously perfect child-made entries and pulled out Wills hedgehog.
Jane, what are you doing? Mrs Green looked genuinely puzzled. The parents are just coming in, its for the display.
I want everyone to see my sons craft, which he made all by himself, Jane replied, adjusting the label and placing Wills hedgehog front and centre.
Mrs Green flushed but didnt dare move the hedgehog while Jane was there. Wills face lit up when he saw his work out on display with everyone elses, not hidden away. Someone even praised it, and Will ballooned with pride.
Families streamed in, children flapping about, putting on their best clothes. Eventually everyone calmed down and filed into the big hall for the show.
As Jane left with Will, she exchanged a wink with Varvaras dad, then followed her son downstairs. What needed sorting in the group could be left to others.
The show was brilliant. Will recited his poemEmily had rehearsed it with himand danced a waltz with Polly. Jane smiled to herself; he moved so well, perhaps those ballet genes are in there somewhere. Maybe shed look up dance classes for him. Before she could finish her thought, Mrs Green started announcing competition results. The selected children went upcertificates and chocolate bars in hand, already bought by the committee. Will, of course, wasnt one of them, nor were most who handled their own crafts.
And now Mrs Green was clearly winding up, but Jane, standing up, interrupted.
And now, just a second, the parents of our group have a few words, if thats alright.
Some parents grinned, knowing what was coming. Others looked confused as Jane went forward, collected a stack of certificates from Sashas mum, and beckoned Lucys mum to bring in a box.
Firstly, a big thank you to all our teachers for such a lovely party! For being so dedicated, always coming up with something new and funfor our children and us parents too. Come on, lets give them a round of applause!
The room eruptedchaotic at first, then in harmony.
And now, we want to celebrate all the boys and girls who joined in but didnt win. Youre all brilliant and deserve a prize toolets applaud!
Jane called out the names, handing out certificates and chocolate, not caring about Mrs Greens whispered protests behind her. The room grew lively with laughter and cheers as every child received their due.
Were not finished yet though! Now its time for the top prizesfor the best parents in the craft competition!
Jane took the prize box, produced a giant lollipop, and handed it to the PTA chair, who looked confused but grinned as Jane winked at her.
Jane, whats all this?
Come on, youre not the only winner today! Jane beamed and kept passing out the giant sweets and certificates.
Every golden hands parent got their reward that dayno exception.
Later, Jane learnt the new display featuring the childrens work alone had rattled some. But Emily had painted a proud sign above it: I did it myself!
Meanwhile, Jane bundled Will up, helped him with his shoes, and they shot out the door, eager to share the days news with Emily.
Mum?
Yes, love? Jane watched her son cling proudly to his certificate.
If I got a certificate, does that mean my hedgehog was good?
Of course! You heard themyours was the best because you did it all on your own! Emily didnt help at all this time.
Yeah, but my hedgehogs a bit wonky
So what? Its yours, thats the point.
Will walked quietly beside Jane, trying to keep up with her longer stride. Then, looking up, he asked, Mum, are you proud of me?
Jane stopped suddenly, making Will almost tumble ahead, and steadied him with her hand. Getting down to his level, she turned him towards her.
Im so proud of you, love! Proud youre learning to do things yourself. Proud you didnt whinge or beg me to do it for you. Proud you help out, especially since you know how busy I am. I know you did the washing up last night, not Emily. Thank you! Im proud because youre growing up to be a real gentleman.
Whats a real gentleman?
Jane paused, thinking. Its someone who tackles their own problems but always says thank you for help. Someone who knows housework isnt just a womans job or a mans job, but everyones job. Someone whos there for their family. Like you, with the washing-upyou gave Emily time to finish her homework, and she aced her chemistry test today. Giving time is the most valuable thing you can do.
How, though?
Ill tell you one day. But for now Jane got up, holding his small hand.
What?
I reckon weve all earned a little treat, havent we?
Yep!
Cake, then?
Yes, please!
Sitting in the kitchen, sipping her favourite Earl Grey with a hint of thyme, Jane looked at the children chatting away, Buster curled up contentedly in the corner, and thought how simple it really was to make these little people happy. All they needed was to know they matteredand that what they did mattered too.
Shed leave her phone on silent, tucked away in her bag, and in the morning, leave the nursery group chat for good, asking Lucys mum for just the newsworthy bits in future. Theyd laugh together about the confused faces at the prize-giving every time they remembered.
Two years later, Will would join the cadets at the local academy, and his slightly wonky hedgehog would still be grinning at him from the kitchen shelf, next to the beautiful teapot Emily would send from university in London.
And Janeonce the kids had left home and just Buster was leftwould find herself hesitant but, in time, quietly happy with a new partner. Nigel, a kind, slightly round manso different from her first husbandwould give her every bit of comfort, laughter and warmth shed ever dreamed of in these later days. Thered be lazy afternoons in the garden with sausages on the barbecue, the roses blooming, trips to the seaside. But most importantly, Nigel got on with the kidssomething Jane never thought possible after her ex. Emily, visiting on holidays, would watch her mum and Nigel ambling through the park hand in hand, grinning at each other like teenagers, and hope that one day, shed get that too. To walk through autumn leaves, feed the squirrels, come home for strong tea and biscuits, sit contentedly in silence because sometimes, you dont need wordsnot when the person beside you listens with their heart.
