by Rachel Marks
Harley circles his room and then slumps on his bed. ‘Mummy said she’s too tired.’
‘That’s OK. Mummy can rest. I’ll take you out.’
The happiness on Harley’s face makes me want to pick him up and hold him. And at the same time I feel guilty. For not doing more for him. For all the times I’ve failed with my own boys.
‘Come on then. Let’s go and get it.’
‘It’s in the cupboard under the stairs. I can’t reach it.’
‘No problem. I can do it.’
We go downstairs and I get his scooter out of the cupboard. It’s full of crap and getting it out is a mission and a half, but I eventually manage it. Probably wondering what all the crashing is, Emma puts her head around the door.
‘Harley wants to show me his new scooter. Is it OK if I take him out for twenty minutes?’
Emma looks like she’s trying to work out the catch. ‘Of course. Tea will be ready by about five.’
I look at my watch. Half four. ‘Perfect timing. Come on then, Harley. Helmet on.’
I put the helmet on his head and fasten it, careful not to catch his skin. I remember when I did that to Gabe once. Four years on and he still won’t let me do his helmet up for him.
Harley leads me to a quiet side alleyway and scoots up and down, giggling every time he reaches me, skilfully stopping just before he crashes into me and sends me flying.
‘Look how fast I am,’ he shouts whilst zooming along.
‘You’re amazing, Harley. A superstar.’
When it’s time to go back, Harley’s reluctant, but I persuade him with the promise of taking him out again soon. When we get in, Emma’s putting tea on the table. It’s lasagne and looks home-cooked and I feel guilty that I’d expected convenience food from the freezer.
‘Right, Harley, eat up. I’ll be one minute.’
Harley takes his food into the lounge and I hear him put the TV on before Emma closes the door.
‘So what are you going to tell the school?’
I’m so confused about what to do. I don’t think Harley’s in real physical danger – Emma shouldn’t have pushed him, but I believe she didn’t mean to hurt him. There are no signs of serious neglect. He might not be given breakfast sometimes but Emma obviously cares for him. The majority of the time he’s fed, watered, clean. His basic needs appear to be being met. And yet I feel uneasy. Because I see so much of my mum in Emma. I can see that she’s struggling and trying to hide it from the world, and it feels like the littlest thing could tip her over from just about getting by to not coping at all.
‘I’ll tell them it was an accident.’
‘Oh, thank you so much. It was an accident. I promise nothing like that will ever happen again.’
‘If it does, Emma, I will have to report it and the head teacher might need to take it further. You understand that, don’t you?’
Emma’s head falls and when she looks up her eyes are full of tears. She looks so desolate I know I can’t just walk away. I unclip the pen from my shirt and find a scrap of paper in my trouser pocket.
‘Here’s my number. I shouldn’t really give it to a parent so please don’t say anything to anyone, but if you’re really struggling and need someone to come and take Harley out for a run around or whatever, please give me a call.’
Emma takes the paper from me, and I get the sense from her expression that she’s not used to people doing kind things for her. ‘Thanks.’
I’m scared that, being as fragile as she is, she might abuse it, but at the same time it feels like the right thing to do for Harley.
‘And I’d really advise you to open up to Mimi or anyone else you feel close to. People want to help, not judge.’
Emma nods, but I’m fairly sure my advice is falling on deaf ears.
‘I’ll see you both in the morning, OK? Take care.’
Emma closes the door and I walk back to my car, feeling unsettled the whole way home.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
‘Wow ! Finally, we can see your face.’
I smile at Mimi’s reflection in the mirror, whilst the hairdresser puts the finishing touches to my cut. It’s long overdue. I like it to be tousled, but it was definitely starting to look more ‘tramp’.
‘He’s actually quite good-looking, isn’t he?’ the bloke doing my hair teases, then he turns on the hairdryer, blowing the clippings off my shoulders first and then running his fingers through my hair whilst he dries it. When he’s finished, he puts in a bit of wax and I’m good to go.
‘Ta-da,’ he says, taking off my gown and spinning my chair so I’m facing Mimi, who starts clapping. ‘A new and improved boyfriend.’
‘Oh, he’s not my boyfriend,’ Mimi clarifies. ‘He’s not that good-looking.’
The hairdresser laughs and gives Mimi a high five. ‘You go, girl.’
I smile and follow him to the counter to pay and then we head out along the river towards the pub, the early evening sun making Bristol Docks feel almost Mediterranean. En route, we pass an art gallery advertising an exhibition by a local artist, so I stop for a second to look at the poster in more detail.
‘You know, I’ve never been to a gallery before,’ Mimi says, pausing beside me.
‘What? Never?’ I almost shout.
‘All right. All right. Don’t make me feel like a philistine. It’s not that I haven’t wanted to. I’ve just never really had anyone to go with, I guess.’
I take her hand and pull her towards the doors. ‘Well, now you do.’
‘What are you doing? I thought we’d come out tonight to work on making a better you.’ When she says the last bit, she adds quotation marks with her fingers.
‘Isn’t part of self-improvement doing things for other people?’
Mimi smiles. ‘I suppose so.’
Inside, we circle the paintings, pausing at each one for several minutes, in keeping with all the other arty types next to us. Mum always used to do that, standing and staring for ages, as if she’d entered some kind of trance and couldn’t be reached, shushing us if we dared to ask her a question. I never quite understood it. Surely once you’ve given it a good look, you’ve seen it. Time to move on. But maybe I’m missing something, a greater depth of experience I’m not capable of.
‘Is it just me or does that one look like a vagina?’ Mimi whispers into my ear. ‘You should know. You’ve seen your fair share.’
‘Very funny.’ I take a more considered look at the painting. ‘Can’t quite see it myself, but you might be right.’ Then I read the title listed on a plaque to the side. ‘Look, it’s called Opening.’
She looks like a kid – the thrill of getting something right. ‘Told you so. Check out my interpretation skills. I might not have been to an art gallery before but I’m clearly a natural.’
I point to a poster advertising for a part-time gallery guide. ‘There you go. Perfect job for you.’
She continues to look smug whilst we walk into the next section. It’s the permanent exhibition, a lot of dark Surrealist stuff, some Pre-Raphaelite. It’s not really my cup of tea, and when I turn to Mimi I’m glad to see she looks a bit glassy-eyed herself. ‘Come on, I think I’ve had enough high-brow culture for one evening. Let’s go and get that drink.’
For the first time this year, it’s warm enough this late in the evening to sit outside, so we order our drinks and then find a table overlooking the water.
‘So, we’ve sorted out your chakras, created some slightly phallic-looking homework, your flat no longer looks like you’re a student, you’re no longer rocking the whole homeless-chic look and you’re not quite such an alcoholic.’ Mimi eyes my beer. ‘Now I think we should focus on your strengths. What do you think Kate loved about you?’
‘Other than this face and this body?’
‘Yes, as irresistible as they are, I’m guessing she didn’t marry you based solely on your looks.’
I search my brain for reasons, then shrug. ‘I can be quite thoughtful when I want to be.
Romantic, I guess.’
Mimi’s face lights up. ‘Perfect ! So what could you do that would remind her how thoughtful you are, without making Jerry suspicious?’
Before I have a chance to respond, there’s a tap on my shoulder and I turn around to see Ben and Claudia, dressed up to the nines, standing behind me.
‘I thought it was you,’ Ben says.
‘Oh, hey, you. What are you doing out? You both look very smart.’
‘It’s date night. We try to go out once a month.’
‘Well, we go out more than that,’ Claudia says, correcting Ben as usual. ‘But we make sure we have a special night out each month, just the two of us, don’t we, Ben?’
Isn’t that what he just said?
Not daring to argue, Ben paints on a smile.
‘We’ve just been for a meal at that fantastic new restaurant. You know, the seafood one. So we thought we’d follow it with a glass of wine.’ Claudia looks at Mimi. ‘Sorry, my rude brother-in-law here hasn’t introduced us. I’m Claudia. This is my husband, Ben. And you are?’
‘I’m Mimi.’
Claudia looks her up and down and then looks at me, obviously trying to work out what’s going on between us.
‘Mimi’s my friend,’ I clarify.
‘Well, it’s nice to meet you, Mimi,’ Ben says, holding out his hand. It looks oddly formal, but Mimi politely shakes it.
‘Would you like to join us?’ I ask, although I hope they’ll say ‘No’, not wanting to inflict Claudia on Mimi.
Ben looks at Claudia, as if searching for the right answer in her eyes. ‘Well, we don’t get much time to ourselves so I think we might pass, but …’
‘Nonsense,’ Claudia interrupts. ‘Ben, go and get me a glass of wine. White, but not the house one. Something fresh and crisp. Look at the menu, don’t just ask the barman. They know nothing.’
‘OK, I’ll try my best.’ Ben glances at Mimi, who gives him a slyly supportive smile. ‘Do you guys want another one?’
‘I’m fine, thanks,’ Mimi says, putting her hand over her glass.
‘I’ll stick to this one. It is a school night after all.’
Ben gives me a shocked look and Mimi looks decidedly proud. Then Ben goes inside to get the Queen her drink.
‘So Mimi, what do you do?’ Claudia says, clutching her handbag tightly in her lap, as if she’s scared someone might try to steal it.
‘I’m a barmaid.’
‘Oh right, so what are you studying?’
‘Nothing. I’m not a student. I’m just a barmaid. You’re right, we know nothing.’
Claudia looks like she’s swallowed a particularly sharp bone and I feel a renewed admiration for Mimi. Anyone who’s willing to take on Claudia is all right in my book.
‘I didn’t mean it like that. I just meant they’re not always wine connoisseurs just because they work behind a bar.’
‘Don’t worry. You’re right. All tastes much the same to me.’ Mimi pushes her chair back and stands up. ‘Anyway, I need a wee. I’ll be right back.’
As she goes inside, she passes Ben who smiles widely at her. When he reaches the table, he puts the drinks down and sits opposite me, next to Claudia.
‘So, tell us more …’ Ben says, taking a sip of his beer.
‘There’s nothing to tell. Like I said, we’re friends.’
Ben smiles. ‘Oh, come off it. You are friends with her?’
‘What do you mean by that, Ben?’ Claudia says and I imagine the bollocking he is going to get when he gets home.
‘I just mean …’ Ben pauses, clearly trying to think of a way to dig himself out of the hole he’s thrown himself into. ‘I mean she’s not a patch on you,’ he puts his hand on Claudia’s knee, ‘but she’s an attractive girl and, besides, I didn’t think Noah would be just friends with a girl unless they were thirty years older than him or a nun.’
‘I’m not saying I’ve never slept with her,’ I say and Ben laughs.
‘Oh, come on, Noah,’ Claudia says, shifting in her chair like a bird ruffling its feathers. ‘Don’t you fancy something more serious now? She’s not exactly marriage material, is she?’
I feel suddenly protective of Mimi. Although there’s nothing going on between us, it’s certainly not because she’s not worthy. ‘I told you we’re just friends. But, for the record, why the hell not? Because she’s only a barmaid? What about the fact she’s kind, and funny, and I don’t feel quite so crap when I’m around her?’
Ben looks concerned, like he thinks I might be about to make a scene. ‘Claudia didn’t mean anything by it, did you, love?’
‘No, I just meant …’ but she stops mid-sentence, as her eyes fix on something and I turn around to see Mimi walking towards us.
Mimi climbs on to the bench beside me. ‘So, what have you lovely people been saying about me? I could feel my ears burning whilst I was in the toilet.’
‘Just that we’re glad Noah finally has at least one friend,’ Ben says, smoothly defusing the tension around the table.
‘It’s a tough job but someone’s got to do it,’ Mimi says, slapping me on the back.
‘Try being his brother.’
‘All right, all right, enough Noah-bashing for one night, thank you very much,’ I say, holding up my hands. ‘So was your meal good?’
‘Oh, it was exceptional,’ Claudia says. ‘I’d highly recommend it.’
‘Looks a bit fancy for me. I prefer my fish with chips and mushy peas.’
Claudia gives me a look of despair. Sometimes I think I say things just to annoy her.
‘So how about you guys?’ Ben asks. ‘What have you been up to?’
‘Noah took me to my first art exhibition,’ Mimi says. ‘And I thoroughly enjoyed it.’
‘Ah, yes, Mum’s protégé.’ Ben smiles. ‘I think all those tedious gallery trips put me off for life.’
‘I blame your mum for ruining my cultural social life. He wouldn’t even go to see Monet’s ‘Water Lilies’ when we were in Paris.’
‘When you’ve seen one painting, you’ve seen them all. Now Maths, that’s what you call beautiful.’
I laugh. ‘Once a geek, always a geek.’
Ben smiles. ‘Well, we can’t all be as hip and trendy as you, can we, Noah?’
I suddenly have a vision of Gabriel and Finn when they’re older, throwing warm-hearted banter at each other. Gabriel will be like Ben – settled, steady, logical. He’ll have savings, a secure marriage, a sensible job. Finn will be the one going to art exhibitions, falling nonsensically in love with unsuitable girls. I just hope he’ll make fewer mistakes than me. That he’ll be happier. I remember when Finn arrived and the midwife handed him to me, wrinkled and blue-tinged, there was a momentary flicker of disappointment that he was another boy. I’d wanted to experience a daughter – the different dynamic – but now I’m so glad we had two boys. There’s something pretty special about brothers and I hope my boys will always have what Ben and I do.
‘Right, come on, Claudia,’ Ben says, picking up his beer. ‘Let’s leave these two in peace and go and discuss highly important matters like our children’s education.’
Claudia gives a forced smile, but I can tell Ben’s going to get an earful later for implying their lives are less glamorous than ours.
‘Well, nice to meet you, Mimi,’ Claudia says, leaning over and giving Mimi an air kiss on both cheeks.
‘You too,’ Mimi says. ‘And you, Ben.’
Ben kisses Mimi on the cheek too, unlike his wife making contact with her skin. ‘Keep him out of trouble for me, will you? Or at least make sure it’s the good kind of trouble.’
‘Will do.’
‘Oh, and remember I’ll pick you up at nine tomorrow. Can you manage to be up and ready that early?’ Ben says to me.
‘I’ll be ready.’
They wander off to find a table indoors and I notice Mimi looks concerned. ‘Did I say something to offend them?’
‘No. Of course not. I think Ben knows
I can only tolerate Claudia for very short periods.’
‘She’s nice. I get the sense she’s just insecure.’
‘Well, she’s pretty confident in her criticism of me.’
‘Clearly a good judge of character then.’ Mimi smiles. ‘Anyway, how come you’re not going to work tomorrow?’
‘It would’ve been my mum’s birthday. Ben and I always go to the beach, because that was her favourite place.’
Taking me by surprise, Mimi looks like she’s about to cry. ‘Oh. That’s really lovely.’
‘It’s become a sort of tradition really, like turkey at Christmas,’ I say dismissively.
‘Well, I think it’s a really sweet way to honour your mum.’
‘Thanks.’
We fall into a slightly awkward silence, both turning to our drinks. But then Mimi looks at me with a serious expression. ‘How come you never want to talk about her? Your mum, I mean.’
I shrug. ‘There’s nothing much to say, I guess. She’s gone. Talking about her isn’t going to bring her back.’
‘But don’t you find it comforting to share your memories of her?’
I scrape my teeth over my bottom lip and shake my head.
‘Fair enough.’ Mimi eyes our empty glasses and then stands up, and I feel bad for shutting her down. ‘I’m going to head home. Thank you for my initiation into the world of art galleries.’
‘No problem.’
‘And remember your homework for this week. Something thoughtful for Kate, OK?’
‘I’ll work on it.’
Mimi smiles, but she looks as if she’s sitting on what she really wants to say. ‘I hope tomorrow goes well. I’ll see you soon.’
‘Thanks.’ I watch her walk away and then head home. When I reach my door, I have a sudden brainwave. Something thoughtful for Kate. I go straight to my laptop and look up the name of the gallery, navigating my way through the website until I find details of the part-time vacancy. I scribble down all the details, pop them in an envelope, write Kate’s address on the front, add a stamp and then walk straight to the postbox at the end of the road.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN