You are an absolute sweetie! decided Pam, regarding the young girl standing in front of her. Her name was Freya, as she had just informed Pam, and she was one of the two young foreign students Pam would be hosting for the next few weeks. Both the teenagers wore ripped jeans, T-shirts and trainers, and distinctly nervous expressions. The rep from the language school had only just dropped them off and Pam had taken the girls through to the kitchen to welcome them with home-made cranberry cookies. Her new temporary lodgers always arrived on a Sunday, which suited Pam perfectly, giving her time to devote to getting them settled in and trying to make them feel at home as best she could. The freshly baked cookies were her way of trying to bypass the inevitable language barrier, but even so she knew not to expect more than a word or so out of her visitors on their first day. So Freya had taken her completely by surprise. Whilst the other girl, Sofia, had barely spoken a word, not even to thank her when she’d taken a cookie, Freya had taken a deep breath and carefully recited what was obviously a prepared introduction speech, in a Danish accent.
‘Hello. I am Freya. I am fifteen years old. I live in Copenhagen with my mother and father and my two brothers. I am very happy to come to England. Thank you for letting me stay in your home.’ She’d stopped and then beamed at Pam.
‘You are very welcome.’ Pam smiled at her warmly and, glancing over to include her other guest, added, ‘You both are.’ Sofia merely nodded.
‘Come and see your rooms,’ said Pam, heading for the door.
Silently, the two girls picked up their bags and followed her upstairs. She put Freya in Josh’s old room, and Sofia in Luke’s. The first day with new lodgers was always the hardest, Pam had discovered, both for her and for them. She was conscious of how daunting it must be to arrive in the home of a total stranger who didn’t even speak a word of your language. Most of the youngsters barely managed to utter a word, apart from a few ‘thank-yous’ and ‘yes pleases’, so it wasn’t surprising Pam had found Freya’s effort so endearing.
Having shown them the wardrobes and chests of drawers they could use, and pointed out where the bathroom was, she left them to settle in, and went back down to start cooking supper – pizza, the staple diet of teenagers across the globe. Not sure of their tastes, she was preparing several small ones, including some veggie and vegan ones just in case.
Neither of the girls had come back downstairs so, once the food was ready, Pam called them down. A few minutes later, sitting in the dining room and happily tucking into pizza, Sofia was engrossed with her phone screen, but Freya’s phone was nowhere in sight and, to Pam’s surprise, the youngster started talking to her.
‘Do you have children?’ she asked Pam slowly.
Oh dear. Bad luck, Freya! What a question to choose to start with, thought Pam. As always, she answered simply and honestly and hoped the teenager wouldn’t be too discomforted by her reply. ‘Yes. I had two sons, Josh and Luke, but Josh died.’
A slight frown slid across Freya’s young features, and she didn’t respond immediately, as if she were checking in her own mind that she’d understood properly.
‘That is very sad,’ she said eventually.
‘It was a few years ago,’ Pam told her, smiling reassuringly.
‘It is still very sad,’ said Freya. ‘My grandfather died. We all cried very much.’
Pam commiserated with her and then moved the subject to less emotional territory and asked Freya about school. Between them they managed to keep a simple conversation going all throughout supper. Once or twice, Pam tried to draw Sofia in by asking her a question, but the poor girl looked like a rabbit caught in the stare of a stoat, so Pam took pity on her and left her alone. As soon as they’d finished eating, Sofia fled to her bedroom, but Freya helped Pam carry the dishes through to the kitchen and then calmly started stacking the dishwasher.
‘You don’t have to do that,’ Pam told her, mildly astonished.
‘At home I help,’ shrugged Freya and carried on.
‘Well, it is very kind of you.’
Watching the girl efficiently loading the plates Pam wondered just how much more Freya was going to offer do to help, and how much she should let her, especially if Sofia didn’t volunteer. Her thoughts were interrupted by the doorbell. She wasn’t expecting anyone so, mildly irritated, she went to open the door.
‘Dez! I wasn’t expecting you. I thought you were in Birmingham for the weekend?’
‘Yes. Just got back. I was just passing so I thought I’d drop in,’ he said, walking in. ‘Mmmm, something smells good! Any left?’ He winked and then headed straight for the kitchen. Letting out a small, vexed sigh, Pam followed him.
‘Oh, hello. Who are you?’ said Dez, in a surprised tone, as he encountered Freya, who was finishing up at the dishwasher.
The youngster politely abandoned what she was doing and turned to face him. ‘Hello. I am Freya.’
Half expecting the poor girl to launch into a re-run of her introductory speech, Pam interrupted. ‘Freya is one my student lodgers,’ she explained. ‘I did tell you they were coming.’
‘Oh, was that today?’ He frowned, briefly. ‘Sorry.’ Then, turning to Pam’s young lodger, he added cheerfully, ‘Hello, Freya!’
Freya hovered uncomfortably but her eyes flicked to Pam’s in a silent SOS. So, after thanking her for helping, Pam asked her if she’d like to join Sofia upstairs, and the girl gratefully fled. The leftover pizza slices were still on the side and since Dez could hardly miss them, Pam felt obliged to offer him some.
Handing him the plate, she said, ‘I’m afraid you can’t stay long. I have to look after my guests, get them settled in.’
‘You go ahead, I won’t get in the way,’ he promised, mumbling with his mouth full, as he sat himself down at the kitchen table. ‘I’ll eat this and then keep a low profile in the living room.’
Pam bridled. Was she going to have to spell it out to him? ‘I’m sorry, but it really isn’t convenient for you to be here this evening.’
‘Why’s that?’ he challenged. Wordlessly, Pam raised an eyebrow at him. ‘Sorry, Pam. I’m not trying to be awkward, but it’s a big house, and I presume they’ve got their own rooms. It’s not like we’re all going to have to cram onto one sofa in a tiny living room like we’d have to at my place!’
Keeping her tone mild, Pam replied, ‘The students get full use of the whole house, Dez. That’s part of the arrangement with the language school. I’m meant to spend their evenings with them, talking to them, making sure they’re okay and helping them learn English.’
‘What, every night?’
‘Well, yes. But it’s only this first evening that I don’t want you to be here. Actually, the first few days,’ she corrected herself. ‘Although,’ she added, now that she came to think of it, ‘I’m not happy with the idea of you staying the night while I have young girls in the house.’
‘Oh? Why not?’ Dez’s voice rose sharply, an edge to his tone, and the hand holding his pizza froze halfway to his mouth. ‘What exactly are you implying?’
‘Nothing!’ exclaimed Pam defensively, feeling vaguely sick as she realised how badly what she’d just said could be misconstrued.
‘Don’t you trust me or something?’ he demanded, going red in the face. ‘D’you think I’m going to sneak into their rooms in the middle of the night and molest them?’
‘No, of course not!’ Pam felt her face flush. Obviously she hadn’t meant to imply that Dez would behave in a predatory manner. ‘I just… I just don’t think it sets a good example…’ she stammered. Catching the furious expression on his face, she cursed herself for handling things so badly. She wished she’d had a chance to clarify in her own mind why she wasn’t comfortable with him staying over when she was in loco parentis for two young girls. In her defence, he’d totally caught her on the hop by arriving uninvited.
Throwing his pizza back onto the plate, he demanded peevishly, ‘How long are they going to be here?’
‘A month.’
‘So basically our relationship is off for a month? Is that what you’re saying?’
‘No, of course not. You can still come here, and we can go to your place if we want to… make love.’
‘It’s not about the sex, Pam,’ he snapped. ‘I’m not that desperate. It’s about putting them before me!’
He pushed back from the table, standing up so violently the chair toppled over onto the floor.
‘I thought we had something. I thought you genuinely liked me. But if a couple of foreign kids mean more to you than I do, than we do, then…’
He stormed out of the kitchen, brushing roughly past Pam as he did so.
She rushed after him. ‘You’re being completely unreasonable!’
He whipped round to face her. ‘You’re the one being completely unreasonable. Ludicrously over-protective. They’re not bloody children, for God’s sake.’
‘Keep your voice down!’ she ordered, worried that his shouting would upset the girls. ‘And actually, they are children. They’re only fifteen.’
He didn’t seem to have an answer to that so, still glaring at her thunderously, he left, slamming the front door so savagely the hall windows rattled.
Pam sank back against the door, stunned by the sudden escalation of a perfectly normal situation into a frightening, major row. What the hell just happened, and how? She went back to the kitchen and picked up the chair, but as she did so, she realised her hands were trembling. A few seconds later, her whole body was shaking in delayed shock. She leant on the work surface to steady herself, trying to calm herself sufficiently to go upstairs and check that Freya and Sofia were all right. They must have heard the commotion, and she just hoped to God they hadn’t understood what Dez had actually said. A few moments later, once she’d recovered her composure, she went upstairs and found both girls sitting together on the bed in Luke’s room. They looked at her, silent and wide-eyed when she opened the door.
‘I’m sorry about that shouting,’ she started. ‘My… friend got angry about something. Please don’t worry. It won’t happen again.’
She kept her sentences short and simple, in the hope that both of them would be able to understand and, since they both looked relieved, she assumed they had.
Then Freya brought a lump to Pam’s throat when, with a look of genuine concern in her young blue eyes, she asked, ‘Are you all right?’
Pam wanted to scoop her up and hug her.
Later, last thing that night when she was on her way up to bed, Pam thought she heard muffled crying coming from Josh’s room so, knocking lightly, she popped her head round the door. Freya’s tearstained face turned to look at her. The girl lay curled in a foetal position, her eyes red-rimmed and sore, and Pam guessed she’d been crying for some time with her face buried in the pillow, to muffle her sobs. Involuntarily, Pam’s mind flashed back five years, to seeing Charley hunched in the same position, on the same bed, in raw agony of mourning for Josh.
Traumatised and devastated, her daughter-in-law had bolted to Pam’s where she’d gone to ground in Josh’s old bedroom like a wounded animal in its cave, instinctively knowing that Pam, and only Pam, could understand her aching loss. Charley’s own parents, particularly her mother, had found it hard to accept the rejection of the love and care they wanted to give their daughter in her bereavement, and her mother had resented Pam’s role in Charley’s life ever since. The flashback of the grieving Charley brought a sudden, unexpected wave of anguish coursing into Pam, and she had to remind herself that Freya wasn’t a young widow drowning in harrowing loss, but a teenager who was simply homesick.
‘Oh, sweetheart.’ Pam sat down next to her on the bed. ‘Is this your first time away from home?’
Freya gulped and nodded, then she wiped her nose on the cuff of her PJs, as if she was ashamed of having been caught crying.
Gently, Pam pushed a strand of damp hair off the young girl’s forehead. ‘It’s okay to be sad,’ she told her. ‘It hurts when we miss the people we love.’ Her kindness instantly brought on fresh floods of tears from Freya. ‘I’ll get some tissues,’ said Pam, and went off to fetch the loo roll.
When she got back, Freya had sat up and was taking a few juddering breaths, trying to calm herself. Pam handed her a damp flannel to wipe her face, and the roll of tissue to blow her nose, then she made Freya promise to come and find her if she woke upset in the night.
‘Don’t lie here all alone and sad.’
‘You are kind,’ Freya told her. ‘You are like my grandmother,’ she added, leaning over and giving Pam a hug.
Lying in bed later that night, the row with Dez circled round in Pam’s head restlessly like a wasp caught in a bottle trap. Perhaps she was being unreasonable? After all, the girls were going to be with her for several weeks so she couldn’t expect him not to resent her putting their sex life on hold for the entire duration of their stay. She groaned inwardly, recalling how badly she’d bungled it and, even worse, how she’d implied she couldn’t trust him around young girls. Which was an appalling suggestion. Seriously? Could you have messed this up more if you’d tried? No wonder he’d taken offence and flown off the handle. She’d have to call him and apologise, although the prospect made her wary, fearful that he might try to exploit her guilty conscience to make her change her mind. Finally, she gave up on sleep, sat up, flicked on the light and picked up her book, infinitely preferring to escape to the sanctuary of someone else’s life and immerse herself in their problems and dilemmas, rather than have to think about her own.