came down the stairs.
‘Mum! For God’s sake!’
‘Hello, Em. I’m sorry I’m ...’
‘We’ve got to go! I’m late! And nobody wants to see your bum!’
The tone of mingled exasperation and pure disgust in Emily’s voice made it quite clear to Sarah that the girl saw nothing attractive or funny about her mother’s nether regions. Emily herself had clearly taken pains with her appearance - hair neatly brushed, eye-liner, blusher and lipstick generously applied. The only drawback was the anxious, petulant frown on her face.
Sarah extracted her leg from the trousers, hoisted up her tights, and smiled encouragingly. ‘You look really nice, Em ...’
‘Well, make sure you do. We’ve got to go now , mum!’
‘Five minutes.’ Sarah hurried upstairs, changed, brushed her hair quickly, and gulped four mouthfuls of dried baked beans before Bob and Emily hustled her into the Volvo.
‘You forgot, didn’t you?’ said Bob, reversing the car. ‘Again!’
Sarah sighed. ‘It’s an important case and I’m cross-examining tomorrow. Anyway ...’
‘Stop!’ Emily screamed from the back. ‘Dad, go back - I’ve forgotten my music!’
‘For heaven’s sake ...’
‘Why on earth they have a concert the week before their GCSEs I cannot understand,’ Bob said, as Emily dashed back into the house. ‘The poor child’s in a bad enough state as it is.’
‘She’s a clever girl. She’ll manage.’
‘How would you know?’ Bob snapped. ‘You never see her. She was in a dreadful state when I got home - tears, books and papers all over the place!’
‘She did well enough in the mocks.’
‘Yes, well.’ Bob fell silent as Emily ran down the drive, got in, slammed the door, and shouted ‘drive!’ in a voice whose nerves contrasted severely with the cool appearance she had presented on the stairs.
Sarah said nothing. Clearly they were both too wound up to accept comfort from her anyway. Despite what Bob said, Emily was a conscientious student who had got mostly As and Bs in her mock GCSEs a few months ago. If her work ethic lacked the intensity and rigid self-discipline of her mother’s, that was because her life was so much easier. Emily had a comfortable home, loving parents, no babies to look after ...
Sarah remembered how phenomenally organized she’d had to be in those early years of her marriage to Bob. He’d had a full teaching job and she, with a toddler and a baby to care for, had begun studying two A levels. But it had always been worth it. As she began studying at a higher level, she felt as if wires in her head that had fused together with rust were being cleaned and pulled apart and tuned. It became a pleasure that she couldn’t do without.
When she got an A in both subjects her addiction was confirmed. Simon was six by then and Emily three. She began an Open University degree, getting up at five each morning to study. She even protected her desk from the prying hands of children by fencing herself in with a playpen. The sight of their mother in there with her books became such a common family sight that the first time little Emily saw a monkey in a cage at the zoo she proudly informed everyone that it was ‘studying.’
But to Sarah her studies opened up such vistas of freedom that it was those outside who were in prison. She learned to inhabit two worlds - one in which she cooked, cleaned, and cared for the children, and the other in which she studied and passed exams - always with the highest grades so that she could move on to the next stage. After the OU degree she read law at the university of Leeds, and then spent a year at the Middle Temple in London, coming home only at weekends on the train. By then Simon had been fourteen, Emily ten, and her constant study was a fact of family life. And finally it had paid off. She got a pupillage and then a place in chambers as a barrister.
And so she had climbed to the top of her ladder, only to find another stretching away above - the
‘Mum! For God’s sake!’
‘Hello, Em. I’m sorry I’m ...’
‘We’ve got to go! I’m late! And nobody wants to see your bum!’
The tone of mingled exasperation and pure disgust in Emily’s voice made it quite clear to Sarah that the girl saw nothing attractive or funny about her mother’s nether regions. Emily herself had clearly taken pains with her appearance - hair neatly brushed, eye-liner, blusher and lipstick generously applied. The only drawback was the anxious, petulant frown on her face.
Sarah extracted her leg from the trousers, hoisted up her tights, and smiled encouragingly. ‘You look really nice, Em ...’
‘Well, make sure you do. We’ve got to go now , mum!’
‘Five minutes.’ Sarah hurried upstairs, changed, brushed her hair quickly, and gulped four mouthfuls of dried baked beans before Bob and Emily hustled her into the Volvo.
‘You forgot, didn’t you?’ said Bob, reversing the car. ‘Again!’
Sarah sighed. ‘It’s an important case and I’m cross-examining tomorrow. Anyway ...’
‘Stop!’ Emily screamed from the back. ‘Dad, go back - I’ve forgotten my music!’
‘For heaven’s sake ...’
‘Why on earth they have a concert the week before their GCSEs I cannot understand,’ Bob said, as Emily dashed back into the house. ‘The poor child’s in a bad enough state as it is.’
‘She’s a clever girl. She’ll manage.’
‘How would you know?’ Bob snapped. ‘You never see her. She was in a dreadful state when I got home - tears, books and papers all over the place!’
‘She did well enough in the mocks.’
‘Yes, well.’ Bob fell silent as Emily ran down the drive, got in, slammed the door, and shouted ‘drive!’ in a voice whose nerves contrasted severely with the cool appearance she had presented on the stairs.
Sarah said nothing. Clearly they were both too wound up to accept comfort from her anyway. Despite what Bob said, Emily was a conscientious student who had got mostly As and Bs in her mock GCSEs a few months ago. If her work ethic lacked the intensity and rigid self-discipline of her mother’s, that was because her life was so much easier. Emily had a comfortable home, loving parents, no babies to look after ...
Sarah remembered how phenomenally organized she’d had to be in those early years of her marriage to Bob. He’d had a full teaching job and she, with a toddler and a baby to care for, had begun studying two A levels. But it had always been worth it. As she began studying at a higher level, she felt as if wires in her head that had fused together with rust were being cleaned and pulled apart and tuned. It became a pleasure that she couldn’t do without.
When she got an A in both subjects her addiction was confirmed. Simon was six by then and Emily three. She began an Open University degree, getting up at five each morning to study. She even protected her desk from the prying hands of children by fencing herself in with a playpen. The sight of their mother in there with her books became such a common family sight that the first time little Emily saw a monkey in a cage at the zoo she proudly informed everyone that it was ‘studying.’
But to Sarah her studies opened up such vistas of freedom that it was those outside who were in prison. She learned to inhabit two worlds - one in which she cooked, cleaned, and cared for the children, and the other in which she studied and passed exams - always with the highest grades so that she could move on to the next stage. After the OU degree she read law at the university of Leeds, and then spent a year at the Middle Temple in London, coming home only at weekends on the train. By then Simon had been fourteen, Emily ten, and her constant study was a fact of family life. And finally it had paid off. She got a pupillage and then a place in chambers as a barrister.
And so she had climbed to the top of her ladder, only to find another stretching away above - the
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