The Case of the Sneaky Valentine

"Not to worry, Sarah love; the girls are all tucked up in bed, so they are, and I'm sure I can find something to watch on the telly. Did you have a good evening?" I tell her we did and briefly where we'd gone, before saying goodbye.

The journey is uneventful, if slow, and eventually, the train arrives at Whiteton East where we alight. It's a fair walk home and even further into the centre of the town to get a taxi. I point this out to Zoe and conclude by asking, "Why don't you come home with me? You can either phone for a taxi from there or, well, there's a spare bed you can crash on and I'll drive you home tomorrow."

"That's very sweet of you, Sarah but if I can call a cab from your house then that will be enough. Of course, if you can make me a cup of tea while I wait then I'll love you forever."

"I don't know whether I should feel offend that my personality alone isn't worthy of your love or," I hesitate, trying to work out the end of the sentence through the alcohol befuddling me, "or whether to call you a, a slut for giving eternal love just for a cup of tea," I laugh.

"Don't be offended, Sarah, but I am a complete whore when it comes to cups of tea being made for me," she joins in my laughter. "You should see what I'll do for a cooked breakfast!" I'm tempted to say, 'Stay the night and give me a chance to find out in the morning,' but suddenly this conversation has become rather uncomfortable. At first I don't understand why and then I realize: the first time a friend cooked me breakfast it was my then-boyfriend after I spent the night with him for the first time. Zoe couldn't possibly know this so she's not suggesting anything but I'm glad that in the dark the slight colouring of my cheeks won't be noticeable.

I am reminded again of Zoe's idiosyncratic appearance when we arrive home; I don't think the look of surprise and alarm on Mum's face could have been any greater had I walked in holding the hand of a gorilla! Not that Zoe and I are holding hands, of course, but you get the idea. Zoe, however, is all smiles and charm and joins in thanking Mum for babysitting, even thanking her for letting her daughter out to play this evening. The three of us chat for a short while as I make two mugs of tea and I can see that when Zoe says that she a designer working in advertising, Mum relaxes a little; Zoe's appearance is obviously down to her being what Mum calls 'an arty type' and not, as she'd obviously been worrying, because Zoe is a born-again Satanist!

With Mum gone it's nearly half-past eleven and I dig out the cab firm's phone number and Zoe calls them. Her face falls. "What's up?" I ask and she puts her thumb over the phone's microphone.

"They're saying that they're very busy and it'll be an hour to an hour and a half wait for a cab. Do you mind me being here that long?"

"That's ridiculous! Zoe, stay here tonight. Tell them that they're wankers and to stuff their cab!"

"Thank you, but I think I'll make other arrangements," Zoe says into the phone, trying not to laugh, before hanging up. "You know, you don't have to go from never saying 'wanker' to saying it at every opportunity," she tells me, still chuckling. "Anyway, thanks Sarah, this really is good of you."

"It's no problem, really, and I think Tina and Chloe will be interested to meet you tomorrow morning. I'm afraid it won't be much of a lie in tomorrow as the girls tend to be up quite early. Come on, let's make up the spare bed, find you some nightwear and there must be a new toothbrush in the bathroom cabinet."

Saturday 25 February

The girls are unexpectedly civilized as I wake naturally and open my eyes to see that it's gone eight thirty in the morning. Normally I would have been woken long before now by shrieks or by two hyperactive girls bouncing onto the bed but all is calm and peaceful. Worryingly calm and peaceful and the Mummy Node of my brain immediately cuts in, providing images of what two unsupervised ten-year-olds might be up to; images sufficiently scary to propel me instantly out of bed.

On the landing, I hear voices from downstairs and laughter. I descend the stairs and the sounds are coming from behind the closed living room door. I open the door quietly to see Tina and Chloe seated either side of Zoe, who is also sat cross-legged on the floor in her over-sized borrowed nightie, as the three of them play one of the Lego Harry Potter games on the PlayStation games console. The twins both laugh as Zoe's character is blasted into lots of Lego bits by a spell and Zoe laughs too, saying, "Okay Chloe smarty-knickers, you show me how to get past him!"

As I watch I feel a lump in my throat and tears welling in my eyes. I can't remember seeing Roy just sit and play games with the girls since, well, almost ever. Yet here is Zoe, a woman I've known for just a week and a stranger to them, in the midst of their play, knowing their names already and making them laugh. I swallow hard and wipe my eyes with the back of my hand, fighting back the incipient tears and take a deep, steadying breath. "Well good morning, early birds," I say with a slightly forced brightness, "you three girls certainly seem to be having fun."

Three pairs of eyes swing round in surprise and three mischievous grins appear, the cheekiest of which is Zoe's. "I bumped into Tina on the landing as I was coming back from the bathroom," Zoe tells me, "I explained who I was and the next thing I knew I was being dragged down to play on the PlayStation."

"You said you were like an expert, Zoe, but Tina and me are miles better; you keep getting smashed!" says Chloe.

"Yeah," agrees Tina, "and you just had to ask Chloe how to get past Snape, and that's peasy!"

"Okay girls, calm down," I tell them. "Would you like a cup of tea Zoe? Okay. What about you two: do you both want hot chocolate?" Tina and Chloe chorus "Yes please, Mum!" in harmony and Zoe shyly raises her hand.

"Can I have a hot chocolate too, please, Mummy Sarah?" she asks in a little girl voice that makes Chloe, Tina and me laugh.

"Zoe, as someone who granted me an extra hour of sleep on a Saturday, you can have whatever you like," I promise her and head out to the kitchen.

When I return the game has re-commenced, though Zoe still seems to be getting regularly blasted, much to the continuing enjoyment of the twins. She glances round at me and winks and, suddenly, her character becomes a superhero, leaping and spinning, dodging and casting spells. Tina and Chloe stare dumbfounded and I realize that she has just been pretending to be hopeless at the game.

"Well girls," I say to Chloe and Tina, "it looks like you've taught Zoe to be a Harry Potter super wizard! Come on, here's your hot chocolate." I sit on the sofa and Zoe joins me while Tina and Chloe sit on the floor by the coffee table. "So Zoe, anything you'd like to confess to Chloe and Tina?"

"Yeah, um, Tina, Chloe, I, er, have played quite a lot of console games over the years. It's what happens when you have two older brothers, I guess, and I never wanted to let them beat me." Zoe grins at me and then smiles at the girls. "I have a little sister too; she has blonde hair like you both."

"So you were like just pretending to be shi..." Tina glances at me and I raise an eyebrow, "to be rubbish at the game?"

"Well, I was a bit rusty at first, so I wasn't pretending much then but, yes, I was later; it made you laugh, though, didn't it?"

"I knew you couldn't really be so rubbish," Chloe insists, "but I think you're fun, Zoe." And Tina nods in agreement.

"I think you've got a couple of young fans," I tell Zoe quietly as the twins head back to the PlayStation, "and you are amazing with them; it's like you've known them for ages." I'm in danger of welling up again at the contrast between Zoe and the useless wanker Roy.

"I've several nephews and nieces so I've done quite a lot of babysitting. I enjoy being with kids and, oh Sarah, your girls are just lovely. I can't believe that... no, sorry, I mustn't."

"What? Roy?" She nods reluctantly. "Yeah, others have asked how he could leave them. But the truth is he left us long before he finally walked away. You've played more with Chloe and Tina this morning than he did in the last five or more years." I cannot help the tears in my eyes as I look at the girls playing.

"I'm so sorry: you and Tina and Chloe deserve so much better." Zoe's voice is quiet but earnest.

"Ah well, at least we've got each other... and my parents are very good with helping us," I turn to look at Zoe and give her a small smile, "and we all have you as a friend as well now." Zoe smiles bashfully. "Right, breakfast time; who wants a bacon sandwich?" I ask and get takers all round.

With everyone fed, washed and dressed I drive Zoe home as promised. It's nearly half an hour's drive to Ravensborough and Zoe's flat. As she prepares to get out of the car she hugs and kisses each of us and there's a sadness to see her walk away and wave as she reaches the door to her building. As I put the car in gear, preparing to drive away, Tina asks, "Mum, how did you get to have such a cool friend?"

"Not just cool, waaay cool!" clarifies Chloe.

"We just got talking on the train," I tell them, "but yes, she is cool, isn't she?"

Tuesday 28 February

I had quite a few questions from Mum when I arrived home last night, all about Zoe. She seemed ridiculously concerned about my having her as a friend and, of course, the fact that she and Dad had been right about Roy was used to justify why I should listen to her. If she'd seen Zoe and the girls together on Saturday then she'd know that the concern was completely misplaced. I did apologise for being so late back, pointing out that I had left as planned at nine thirty and my late return was entirely down to the trains. I also assured her that I wasn't about to turn punk and get my hair dyed green or anything, though I didn't dare tell her that seeing Zoe's short hairstyle did have me wondering about trying something different myself. Like the girls I've always worn my hair long, usually tied back into a loose ponytail for convenience; maybe a short bob cut might make a change and it would certainly make it easier to care for.

Perhaps Mum is worried that my having a close female friend will mean that I confide in her less. Zoe and I aren't on that heart-to-heart sharing level of friendship yet and may never be although, if I'm honest, I think it's only a matter of time as we do seem to get on very well together.

Such musings occupy my mind as I walk to the station and see, with a sinking feeling, that the platform is crowded. Sure enough, the ticket collector (are they still called that? They don't collect tickets anymore, now that it's all automatic barriers) confirms that the previous train was cancelled.

Being a regular does have one advantage: you know exactly where to stand on the platform so that when the train arrives, the doors are in front of you. As a result, and despite the extra passengers waiting, I am second onto the train. I can see immediately that there is no chance of a seat but, to my surprise, Zoe pops up beside me. "I knew we wouldn't both be able to sit today so I decided to stand," she explains and we start chatting.

The carriage is crowded as the train pulls away and after the next station, it is completely packed to the doors, meaning that Zoe and I are squeezed together. Her shoulder presses against my boob and her hip against my thigh while behind me what feels like a handbag rests in the small of my back, pushing me forward. "I'm sorry," I apologise to Zoe.

"Hey, no problem; it's not your fault and I can think of lots of people worse than my train buddy to have squashed against me," and we fall into discussing the perils of being pressed up against the regular passengers, starting with the obvious; Body Odour Boy, a.k.a. Stinky Pete, and the risk of suffocation.

"Loud iPod Guy," I suggest, "and the chance of being deafened."

"The Makeup Woman," replies Zoe, "and being splattered with foundation and mascara."

"Mrs Knitting, eye lost through knitting needle-related accident," I say, upping the silliness.

"Gordon the Golfer, impaled on his giant umbrella," is Zoe's next suggestion and I realize she means Mr Umbrella.

"Aging Hippy resulting in patchouli poisoning," I tell her.

"That's cheating, Sarah: he doesn't smell of patchouli and I don't think it's poisonous anyway," Zoe points out. "Okay, Mr and Mrs Cycling and ending up as part of a threesome!" She grins at her idea but even more at the shock she sees on my face. I can't help glancing round to see if we've been overheard but no one seems to have reacted.

"That's cheating too, Zoe: you couldn't have sex squashed together like this," I whisper and she looks at me, raising an eyebrow as if to say 'Really?' and I blush.

"You're so sweet and innocent, Sarah!" and she tickles my ribs, making me flinch.

"Okay, maybe there are things you could do..." I concede, trying to fight down the deepening blush flushing my cheeks. "Perhaps I should have suggested Vanilla Dimple Girl and the risk of death by embarrassment!" I tell her.

"You love me really," she retorts and I can't but smile at her. Just then the train sways sharply and I'm jabbed painfully by an elbow.

"I hope it's not like this on Thursday: I'll have the Tina and Chloe with me."

"Really? Why's that?" Zoe asks with interest.

"It's 'Take Your Daughter, or Son, to Work Day' and their school is encouraging all the Year Six parents to take part. I don't know how I'm going to get any work done with both of them with me, but there we are."

"Um, Sarah, feel free to say no but, I, er, I could have one of them at work with me, if you'd like."

"Could you, I mean would you be happy to do that, really?" I ask.

"I'd love to, really I would."

"The girls would love it, I'm sure; they think you're 'waaay cool', they told me. Um, you're not still working on the sex toy thing are you?"

"No, it a range of cereal bars now," she laughs.

"Oh good, that's okay then. It would be brilliant if you would. The only problem will be that they'll both want to be with you rather than me," I tell her ruefully.

"Okay, well they can swap over at lunchtime: half a day with you and half a day with me. I doubt anyone will even notice the changeover." I feel so happy with her offer that I could hug her -- if only we weren't so crushed. Instead, I bend and kiss her cheek.

"Thanks, Zoe. I just wish you could be there when I tell them so you can see how excited they'll be."

"Just warn them that while it's advertising they won't see TV adverts or anything being made. Jake, one of the copywriters, brought his niece in last year and she complained about that the whole time she was in the office."

"Well, whatever it is they can see or do there, it has to be more exciting than insurance!" I assure her. Just then the conductor announces that we're about to arrive at Victoria and I can feel the wave of relief passing through the carriage.

Wednesday 29 February

I've always hated working on the 29 February: an extra day of work for no pay! However, this has just changed: the email I've just received confirms that I, along with my colleagues, will actually be getting a bonus this year. I look across to Maria, one of the other PAs and she smiles and gives me a thumbs-up, obviously looking at the same email. It won't be a fortune but I'll definitely be less strapped for cash; maybe I can stop feeling guilty about that evening out with Zoe.

Thursday 1 March

On the way to the station, I feel like one of those people you see in the park being dragged along by the dogs they are supposed to be walking. In my case, it's two excited ten-year-old girls doing the dragging and I think I must have set a new speed record for getting to the station.

Tickets bought, we stand on the platform in my usual spot and, fortunately, all the services seem to be running and on time. Boarding the train we find the carriage is surprisingly empty, so much so that Zoe has a seat free next to her and one across the aisle. Chloe and Tina pile into the seat by the window next to Zoe whilst I sit across the aisle, having checked that she is happy to have the girls squeezed in next to her.

"Yeah, no problem," she says before asking them, "So, have you decided who's going to be with me this morning?" and I laugh.

"Tina tried to claim the right as Chloe's big sister, she's the eldest by nineteen minutes, but Chloe wasn't having any of that so they said that you'd have to choose," I explain.

"Oh no, no, no, I'm not going there!" Zoe replies smiling. "You two can toss a coin for it..." she pulls a purse from her jacket and takes out a ten pence piece. "Right, Chloe heads and Tina tails; ready?" They both nod and Zoe flips the coin, catches it and slaps it onto the back of her other hand. The girls stare expectantly as she lifts her hand. "And iiiit's tails! So Tina: morning or afternoon?"

"Morning please, Zoe," she says excitedly while Chloe looks sullen.

"Hey, Chloe, don't be a grumpy pants!" says Zoe, "You'll have just as much fun and you can look forwards to it when you're doing the boring," she catches my eye, "I mean the very interesting and, er, important, work with your Mum in the morning."

"I am going to try and make it at least a bit interesting," I protest, poking Zoe's arm. "It's not my fault if their Mum's mundane job as a PA can't compete with her friend's glamorous job in advertising."

"Sorry, Sarah", "Sorry Mum", "Soz Mum," all three of them apologise at the same time.

"You've got my mobile number on your phone in case there's any problem, haven't you?" I check with Zoe and she nods. "Can you just text me to let me know how they're doing mid-morning and mid-afternoon?" I whisper.

"Of course I will but I'm sure they're going to be fine." She reaches over and squeezes my hand reassuringly.

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

It's late afternoon as I look at my phone and re-read the text from Zoe:

Chloe doing gr8. Yr girls are fab -- just
like their mum & we all deserve pizza 2nite! :-)
Z x

This time, however, I text her back:

The girls think you're fab and I think they're
right. Pizza is a cracking idea. See you at 5 :-)
Sarah x

"Okay Tina, can you just put the last of those letters and tickets into the envelopes?"

"Okay, Mum." She has her tongue tucked into the corner of her mouth as she carefully folds the letter twice to fit in the envelope and tucks the Twickenham Rugby ticket (England vs Scotland) in as well. "Mum, why are you, like, sending tickets to a rugby match to people?"

"It's called corporate hospitality Tina and companies like this invite important clients and customers as a way of thanking them for their custom in the past and to encourage them to keep using us in future. Do you understand?"

"I think so; it's like Jenny Jones giving sweets to the other girls at school so they'll be her friend, isn't it?"

"Yes, Tina, it's exactly like that," I laugh at how children cut through the euphemism and pretence to the truth of a situation, "but you shouldn't say that to my boss Patrick, Mr O'Dowd; I think it might upset him!" Tina smiles and nods; she obviously feels that she's been let in on a secret from the adult world. "Have you enjoyed today?" I ask.

"Yes, Mum, I really have and being with you wasn't boring," she says kindly, answering my underlying worry. Tina has always been the intuitive and empathic one of the pair, just as Chloe is the more adventurous, physical one.

"Was it as much fun as being with Zoe?" I ask somewhat mischievously and Tina looks awkward. "It's okay, love" I relent and smile at her, "I know that I can't compete for excitement with Zoe's job. I glad you weren't bored, though. All done? Right, let's tidy up and then we can go down and meet Chloe and Zoe." I smile at the rhyming of the names.