When Emily brought little Oliver home from nursery, her husband William grew uneasy at once. Even a passing glance revealed his wife was in a peculiar state of agitation.
“Has something happened, Emily?” William asked, his own worry creeping in.
“It has, William, it has.” She seized his wrist and drew him into the next roomfar from their sons listening ears. “They might be expelling us from the nursery.”
“What?” Williams face fell slack. “How can that be? We pay our fees on time.”
“I dont know if its possible or not, but the headmistress told mein plain Englishthat if we dont get our son under control, hell be tossed out like a cork from a bottle.”
“She said it just like that?”
“Yes, exactly like that. Quietly, just between us, but firm. And she added that other parents are preparing a joint complaint. To the authorities.”
“Good heavens!” William stared, baffled, unable to fathom what their sweet, cheerful boy could have done. “Why on earth would they complain?”
“Because Olivers been hitting every child in his group.”
“Our Oliver?” William nearly laughed but caught himself. “That tiny, gentle lad? Hitting everyone?”
“Yes!” Emily wrung her hands. “The headmistress says he wallops them without a second thought!”
“Even the girls?”
“I didnt ask!” she snapped, nerves frayed. “The moment I heard, I was stunned. I snatched Oliver up and dashed home. If they expel him, William, what will we do? Where will we send him? Id have to resignor you would. And how would we manage the mortgage then? Im losing my mind over this!”
“Hold on, dont faint just yet!” William rubbed his brow. “First, we need to understand whats got into him.”
“I asked him on the way home, but he wouldnt confess. Just sulked and puffed his cheeks.”
“You asked. Now Ill ask.”
When William stepped into the nursery, Oliver was peacefully playing with his toy lorries, as if nothing were amiss.
“Right, Oliver, we need a serious talk,” his father said sternly.
“Mm-hmm,” the boy murmured, not looking up from his game. “Go on, Dad.”
“Stop playing first.”
“William, speak gently!” Emilys voice cut in from the doorway.
“Yeah, Dad, speak gently,” Oliver parroted, still rolling his lorry.
“Tell us truthfullywhy are you hitting the other children?”
Oliver froze, the toy clenched in his fist. He stared at the floor, silent.
“Do you hit the girls too?”
“No,” he muttered. “Nothing to hit them for.”
“So the boys deserve it?”
“Course they do.”
“And why, if its not a secret?”
Oliver scowled at his father, then at his mother.
“What if it is a secret?”
The look in his eyes made William falterbut only for a moment.
“Oliver, are you my son or not?”
“‘Course I am.”
“Then we dont keep secrets. Not from each other.”
“From you, maybe,” Oliver grumbled. “But not Mum.”
“What?” Emily gaped. “You keep things from me?”
“Mm-hmm.”
“But why?”
“‘Cause theyre mens business.”
“Ah, mens business!” William winked at his wife. “Sorry, love, but if its truly mens talk, best leave us to it.”
With a huff, Emily retreatedbut not without a warning.
“And no eavesdropping!” William called after her. Then, lowering his voice, he turned back to Oliver. “Now then, lad, out with it. Why are you thumping those boys?”
Oliver sighed, turning away. “They cuddle up to her.”
“Who does?”
“The boys.”
“Who are they cuddling?”
“Miss Eleanor.”
“Whos that?”
“Our nursery assistant. She pats their heads, and they hug her. Tight.”
“So?”
“I dont like it.”
Williams eyes gleamed with sudden understanding.
“Why not?”
“‘Cause Im the only one who should hug her.”
“And whys that?”
“Dad.” Oliver gave him a wounded look. “Youre the only one who hugs Mum, arent you? And mebut Im her son. Other blokes dont get to!”
“But Mums my wife,” William said, fighting a smile.
“Miss Eleanors going to be mine,” Oliver whispered. “When Im grown. Ill marry her.”
“Oh, I see.” William bit back a laugh. “So youre… sweet on her, eh?”
Oliver nodded miserably.
“And jealous.”
“You get jealous of Mum too,” he muttered in his defense.
“Me?”
“‘Course. You and Mum row about it all the time.”
“Oh, son.” William ran a hand through his hair, scrambling for the right words. “So youve inherited the family curse. Believe it or not, your grandad was the same, and his father before him. Weve all suffered for it.”
“Suffered?”
“Jealousys a nasty thing. But what do we do now? If you keep clobbering those poor lads, youll be expelled.”
“Dont care! No one touches her!”
“But if youre expelled, youll never see her again. They wont let you back in.”
“Never?” Olivers voice quavered.
“Never. Look, I understandbut you cant go around thumping boys. And anyway, its up to the lady who she hugs.”
“But she doesnt choose. She hugs everyone. I hate it.”
“Its her job, lad. Shes meant to hug every childseveral times a day.”
“Its her job?”
“‘Course! Doesnt she hug you?”
“Yeah.”
“Well, there you are. She has to hug the others too. If she stops, shell be sackedand then youll never see her. So youll have to bear it.”
“Really? She only does it cause she has to?”
“Exactly. They make her.”
“Honest?”
“Cross my heart.”
Olivers frown softened. “Alright then. Let her hug em. Does she have to kiss them too?”
William nodded hastily. “That too.”
“Blimey.” Oliver sighed, less mournful now. “What a rotten job. Well, maybe I wont marry her after all.”
From that day on, the headmistress raised no further complaints about Oliver.
