Free No-One Ever Has Sex on a Tuesday by Tracy Bloom Page B

She’d never mentioned anything about
him
having to sing and dance . . . in the morning! What was she thinking?
    ‘I can’t do that,’ he continued, turning back to Linda. ‘We’re talking at least four pints, some seriously loud banging tunes and a room dark enough that no-one can see where I am, never mind what I’m doing.’
    There was silence around the room. Ben surveyed his co-carers, who were all looking anywhere but at him, clearly embarrassed by his outburst.
    ‘Why don’t we make a start,’ said Linda, ‘and then you can see actually what fun it is and you’ll get right into it.’
    ‘Okay,’ said Ben slowly. ‘Fine. Let’s do it.’
    ‘Good, good,’ said Linda, moving her hands into position on the guitar and smiling around at her audience. ‘Shall we start with the welcome song? After three. One, two, three.’
    ‘Welcome, welcome, welcome, everyone
    Welcome, welcome to a great new day
    Welcome, welcome, welcome, everyone
    Welcome, welcome, let’s see who’s come our way
    Welcome, welcome, here is . . . Archie
    Welcome, welcome to you today
    Welcome, welcome, here is Archie
    Welcome, welcome, let’s see who else has come our way
    Welcome, welcome, here is . . . Isobel
    Welcome, welcome to you today
    Welcome, welcome, here is Isobel
    Welcome, welcome, let’s see who else has come our way.
    Welcome, welcome, here is . . .’
    Ben stared back at Linda as if she had grown two heads when she paused in the song to allow Ben to insert Millie’s name.
    ‘Your baby’s name?’ urged Linda.
    ‘Seriously!’ exclaimed Ben, his eyes wide. ‘It’s ten o’clock in the morning and you expect me to sing this? Are you having a laugh? Are you winding me up because I’m new?’
    Everyone stared back at him in stunned silence.
    ‘You cannot honestly expect me to believe that anyone would pay to come and sit on the floor of some crusty old Community Centre, pretending to enjoy singing some pathetic, mindless tune to babies who are completely and utterly clueless as to what is going on around them.’
    There were one or two gasps from the room as everyone waited for Linda to respond.
    ‘Look,’ she said, putting her guitar down. ‘Perhaps you shouldn’t be here if you do not think you can participate in the worthy goals and aims of this class. Although I do think if you were to consult Katy she would agree that she and Millie gained a huge amount by attending.’
    ‘Katy came here and sang songs about welcome, welcome, drivel, drivel, drivel?’ asked Ben incredulously. ‘In public?’ Katy, who didn’t even dare tell anyone she preferred Radio 2 to Radio 1 these days.
    ‘She did,’ confirmed one of the mums. ‘Along with the rest of us.’
    Ben stared back at her.
    ‘But why?’
    No-one spoke; they all just looked at one another furtively.
    ‘Shall I go through the Music, Mummy and Me philosophy one more time?’ Linda offered.
    ‘No,’ said Ben, shaking his head vigorously.
    ‘I come,’ said Charlene, ‘because it fills that gap after Jeremy Kyle finishes and before Toddlers, Tiaras and Tantrums start.’
    ‘You come because you have nothing to watch on TV?’
    ‘Yes,’ Charlene nodded.
    Ben looked round the rest of the room.
    ‘I come because my husband takes the car on a Monday. I can walk here, and if I don’t come I might not have an adult conversation all day,’ ’fessed up another mum.
    ‘I’m a child-minder,’ said someone else. ‘I’m paid to come.’
    ‘Our heating’s broken,’ said another.
    ‘So let me get this straight,’ said Ben. ‘This is actually what you do in this class, sit on the floor and sing stupid songs?’
    ‘Yes,’ said Charlene.
    ‘But none of you actually comes for the music or the educational benefits to your child?’
    ‘I really must ask you to leave now,’ said Linda, standing up and pointing at the door.
    ‘And do any of you actually enjoy it?’ asked Ben.
    There was a heavy silence as everyone looked at the