by Melissa Hill
How could Laura be so understanding and so forgiving of people all the time?
Helen had always thought it a huge weakness in her oldest friend, but now she knew she had been very wrong. It was an unbelievable strength, a strength of character that no one, not even Nicola, had given Laura credit for.
And when Nicola too was struggling on her own after Dan, when her life was in tatters, it had been Laura helping her pick up the pieces, Laura the one who had sat with her day in day out, listening to her fears about how she might never be the same again.
Again, Helen felt ashamed that she hadn’t been able to do that. It was another blight on her character that she had all but abandoned Nicola when her friend was at her lowest. She kept telling herself at the time that she had her own problems, that Jamie was about to leave her, but of course that wasn’t it.
The truth was that she was afraid – afraid of what might happen to Nicola, afraid of how she as Nicola’s friend might then be expected to cope.
Guiding the car into a free parking space, Helen realised that she was not only a terrible friend and a terrible mother but, all in all, a terrible person.
71
The headmistress, Mrs Cleary, looked at her gravely from across the table. Helen knew that the older woman was annoyed with her for not having met with her sooner. Kerry had started here in early September, and Helen knew her daughter hadn’t really taken to it.
Mrs Cleary had been trying to arrange an appointment with Helen for quite some time, and after a lot of procrastinating (and particularly following recent events) Helen had finally decided to bite the bullet and meet the woman. She knew what this would be about; obviously Kerry’s speech problems were impeding her learning and Helen suspected that the headmistress would want Helen to consider taking her out and starting her again next year, when she was a little more advanced.
“Ms Jackson, as I’m sure you’re aware, Kerry has quite a severe speech problem,” the headmistress began.
Helen nodded. “I am – I mean I do. She’s seen a therapist but she doesn’t seem to be getting any better. I had hoped,” she continued, seeing the principal was about to interrupt, “I had hoped that going to school and being around other children would help her, although I realise now that she may have problems keeping up.”
The woman’s eyes widened. “Far from it, Ms Jackson,” she said. “In fact, Kerry is one of the brightest children in her class.”
“Oh?”
“Yes, although Mrs Costigan – that’s Kerry’s teacher, by the way,” she added, in a poorly disguised jibe at Helen’s lack of interest to date, “rarely asks her to read out loud in front of the others because of her stutter. But she has a keen ear for grammar and, from what I am aware, tries her utmost to keep up in class.”
“I’m confused,” Helen said frowning. “I thought you were going to tell me her stutter is causing problems for her here.” She certainly hadn’t expected her to be complimenting Kerry’s progress.
The other woman looked at her. “Ms Jackson, how does Kerry seem at home to you?”
“At home? Well, she’s fine, usually. What exactly do you mean?”
“Does she seem quiet, distant – upset, even?”
“Well, Kerry is always quiet. She spends a lot of time in her room and – now that you mention it – she spends a lot of time alone perfecting her reading.”
“Perfecting her reading – or her speech?”
Helen briefly considered this. “Both, I’m sure.”
“Ms Jackson – may I call you Helen?” she asked, in what Helen perceived as a kindly tone. She wondered what was coming. “Because of her stutter Kerry has been the subject of some teasing in class.”
Helen shifted in her seat. “Mrs Cleary,” she said evenly, “this doesn’t come as any great surprise to me. Children like Kerry are bound to be taunted, particularly at that age. I’m sure you know as well as anyone how cruel kids can be, but they’re young, they don’t know any different. I always knew that there might be a possibility that she’d be called names.”
The headmistress fixed her with a hard glare. “This isn’t just verbal, Helen, and it’s a very serious matter. Kerry has been spat at, ridiculed, and pushed onto the ground, not only by the boys, but indeed some of the girls in her class. It’s not just taunting – it’s downright bullying, and it breaks my heart to admit that it goes on in my school at all, but especially at that young age. Didn’t she show you the marks on her arms?”
For one long moment, Helen felt as though she was eavesdropping on someone else’s conversation. Spat at? Pushed over? Marks on her arms? Why hadn’t Kerry said anything?
More importantly why hadn’t she noticed?
But Helen didn’t have to dig too deep to find the answer. How would she have noticed? She’d been so self-absorbed, so wrapped up in herself and Paul these last few months.
“Ms Jackson?”
“Sorry – what?” Helen was so absorbed in her own thoughts, she had almost forgotten the headmistress was still there.
“Look, I know this is coming as a bit of a shock to you, and we would have told you sooner but – ”
“Kerry didn’t want you to,” Helen finished for her, shaking her head sadly. “Kerry didn’t want to upset me, did she?”
“Actually,” the headmistress began, a strange expression on her face, “that’s not quite right. Your daughter didn’t want you to be angry with her. She said – and these are Kerry’s words – ‘Mummy says I can’t talk properly because I don’t practise enough. If you tell Mummy about the bold boys then she’ll know I’m not practising, and she’ll be very mad.’”
“Oh…” Helen’s felt a massive knot in her chest. Her hand flew to her mouth and the tears were streaming down her cheeks before she even realised they were there.
What had she done? What had she done to her child? Why hadn’t she come in to see the headmistress sooner? Why keep putting it off and putting it off like her daughter’s welfare was some kind of nuisance? Helen could just imagine Kerry, embarrassed and ashamed, begging the teachers not to tell her because she thought that she would be angry with her for stuttering – that she would say the taunts were all her own doing because she couldn’t speak properly.
“Helen, try not to upset yourself over this,” the headmistress looked genuinely perturbed. “I understand how you must be feeling, but please remember that Kerry is barely four years old. Children that age have great imaginations. None of the teachers here, or indeed myself, would have taken any notice of such claims. We don’t believe for a second that you would inflict blame on Kerry for her problems. And as far as I’m aware, a stutter is a physiological and not a psychological problem. However, Kerry’s lack of self-confidence in this regard is bound to affect her progress. I think this is where the parents come in. I should add that we’ve already spoken to the culprits’ parents, and will take whatever action is necessary against these bullies but –”
Helen shook her head. “It’s my fault this is happening, not Kerry’s and not the other children’s … I haven’t been helping her enough, I haven’t done the exercises her therapist suggested in ages. In fact,” she paled as the realisation hit her, “I haven’t even brought her to see the speech therapist since … oh, what have I done?” She buried her head in her hands, shame enveloping her.
“Helen, I’m unaware of your own personal circumstances, but from what I can gather you’re not married?”
She nodded wordlessly.
“There’s no denying that bringing up a child on your own is difficult, particularly for a working mother. You yourself will admit that, I’m sure.”
When Helen didn’t answer, Mrs Cleary got up and walked around the table, putting a comforting hand on the younger woman’s shoulder. “Helen, please don’t upset yourself any longer with this. I’m sure you’ve tried your best for Kerry but maybe you two now have a few things to sort out between you.”
A few things? Helen had never before experienced any
thing like the raw guilt that was coursing through her just then. It was like molten lava, burning her insides and destroying her own inflated self-worth. Was there anyone she hadn’t hurt these last few years in her innate desire to satisfy herself, to make up for the rejection and loss she had felt since Jamie’s departure?
After a few moments, Helen stood up, and resolutely shook hands with the headmistress.
She’d go home now and talk to Kerry about the bullying and the stuttering, maybe try and boost her daughter’s self-confidence and actually behave like a good mother, a decent mother for once.
As she drove towards home, Helen pictured her daughter’s sunny smiling face, but soon after the image was replaced by an ugly vision of Kerry being taunted by her classmates. At this, Helen felt an overwhelming urge to catch those little bastards and slap them hard, inflict on them some of the suffering that her daughter had endured. She’d catch the boys and bang their bullying heads together and she’d certainly have a thing or two to say to the parents, she’d –
Helen’s head snapped up. She pulled over and stopped the car, suddenly feeling like St Paul on the road to Damascus. Was this it? she asked herself, hands shaking with adrenaline. This almost primeval urge to protect – maternal urge to protect. Was this the feeling that had so eluded her for all those years?
Helen shook her head sadly. She still didn’t know.
All she knew right then was that she had a lot of making up to do.
72
“Will you have something to drink, Chloe?” Nicola asked. “Coffee, tea, a glass of wine maybe?”
“Coffee, please.” Chloe looked nervously around the room. “Um – you have a very nice house,” she said without enthusiasm.
Nicola felt sorry for her. It was really annoying the way Dan had turned up at the same time like that. She hadn’t expected him to arrive until at least an hour later and she had intended to spend some time with Chloe first – to prepare her before he arrived. But Chloe had been late and Dan had been way too early so …
Now the poor girl looked as though she couldn’t wait to get out of here.
“Do you need help? I could make the coffee if you like,” Dan piped up meaningfully.
Nicola let him follow her into the kitchen.
“What are you trying to do, Nic?” he whispered when he was sure Chloe was out of earshot.
Nicola checked the percolator and turned to face him. “I’m not trying to do anything, Dan – in fact, I think I’m doing you a favour.”
“A favour? You’ve got to be joking.”
“No, I’m not. Chloe’s been curious about me for a long time now – I’m just setting her mind at ease.”
“Are you sure that’s all it is? Are you sure you’re not enjoying this just a little bit too?”
“Enjoying it?” Nicola looked at him. “What exactly is there to enjoy about this, Dan?”
“Well, why did you invite us here today then – both of us?”
“I didn’t intend for the two you to arrive together. I told you not to come until seven because I wanted some time alone with Chloe first to –”
“Dish the dirt?”
“No, to explain. To explain what you couldn’t – to let her know that I’m no threat to her as far as you’re concerned. Something you should have done from the very beginning.”
“Look, I know that,” Dan ran a hand through his hair, “but I just didn’t know what to tell her … I was afraid.”
Nicola shook her head. “When I met you that day in Bray, I thought that you had changed – matured, copped onto yourself, even. But you’re still terrified by this, aren’t you? Even though you no longer have anything to do with me, you’re still afraid, aren’t you?”
“It’s not that, Nic … I don’t …I just couldn’t –”
“You couldn’t deal with it, Dan,” Nicola finished for him. “You couldn’t deal with it then, and you can’t deal with it now. That’s fair enough. But what I can’t understand is why you didn’t tell Chloe.”
Dan looked like a scolded child. “Look, you’re right, I know you’re right. It’s just I didn’t want to admit that …oh, I just didn’t know how she’d see it, maybe she’d blame me, maybe she wouldn’t understand what it was like for me.”
“Oh, for goodness sake, Dan, it isn’t all about you.” Her voice shook as she spoke. “Do you think I enjoyed bringing Chloe here today? Now don’t get me wrong, I’m not jealous of her or anything like that, but do you think it was easy for me being on show like this?”
“Look, I know it must be strange for you seeing me with someone else –”
“Whoa.” Nicola made a ‘hands off’ gesture with her palms. “Don’t think it’s anything to do with you. Whatever you and I had is long gone, over and done with. You’re just a little blip on the horizon as far as I’m concerned, and the reason I’m doing this is because I want you out of my life for once and for all.”
“Nicola –”
“Look, you have no idea how hard it was for me to come back here and start again on my own,” she interjected, annoyed that she was forced to drill this into his thick head, frustrated that she had to explain anything. “And I think I’m doing OK – I mean I was doing OK until all this started. I can go anywhere I want to go, I have my own house, a job I love – a man I love very much and who loves me. I don’t need to rely on anyone, Dan, least of all you.”
“I know, and it’s brilliant –”
“Don’t patronise me.” Nicola’s eyes flashed. “You’ve done that once too often.”
Dan looked suitably chastened and for a moment, neither one said anything.
Nicola glanced towards the living-room and her tone softened. “Look, can you just forget about yourself for once, and tell the girl the truth?”
He sighed. “I will, I promise. And I’m sorry, Nic, I didn’t really consider your side of it. I was angry with Chloe when she spoke to Carolyn but I still didn’t explain anything. I thought the fact that I was so annoyed with her would be enough to make her give in.” He scratched his nose. “I suppose I just didn’t figure how all of this would affect you.”
Nicola shook her head. “Same old story,” she said. “All you, you, you.”
“You’re right,” Dan wouldn’t meet her eyes, “but I promise I’ll tell her everything.”
“Good.” Nicola folded her arms across her chest but there was a flicker of amusement in her eyes. He looked genuinely sorry.
“Now in spite of my big spiel about independence, will you get that tray for me?” she asked easily.
“Sure,” Dan picked up the tray that Nicola had filled with coffee and biscuits and went back towards the living-room. Then he stopped, frowning. “Where’s that whining noise coming from?” he asked, his gaze moving around the room.
Nicola smiled mischievously. “I wasn’t sure whether or not Chloe liked dogs.”
Dan wrinkled his forehead. “She loves them, I think – ”
“She does? Great.” Nicola opened the utility-room door, and Barney bounded forward, tongue out and bottom-half wagging. He stopped short when he saw Dan, and Nicola noticed the hairs at the back of his neck rise slightly at the sight of this particular visitor. Nice judge of character, Barn, she thought, smiling to herself.
“Oh.” Dan looked clearly uncomfortable, and Nicola allowed herself a little grin as she made her way back to the living-room. Her ex was petrified of dogs – always had been.
Barney followed immediately behind Nicola, spied yet another visitor and raced across to Chloe, sniffing her ankles speculatively.
“Oh, he’s fabulous,” The younger woman forgot her discomfort for a second, and appreciatively stroked Barney’s glossy coat. The dog responded by nosing her palm and nudging himself against her legs, tail wagging all the time.
“I don’t know what I’d do without him,” Nicola said with a smile, pleased that Chloe no longer looked quite so uptight. “Chloe, will you have a muffin or a slice of gateau, maybe?”
> “I won’t, thanks,” Chloe was demure.
“Watching your weight for the wedding, I suppose,” Nicola said pleasantly. “I’d imagine you’re really looking forward to it.”
It was obvious Chloe didn’t know how to answer that. All of a sudden, Nicola felt guilty. She hadn’t meant for this to be uncomfortable for Chloe – she was the innocent party here and her fiancé was the one who deserved teaching a lesson.
Just then Dan’s mobile shrilled and, in his haste to answer, the phone fell out of his pocket and slid away from him on the wooden floor. Barney jumped up and immediately retrieved the phone with his mouth, offering it to a surprised and more than a little nervous-looking Dan.
Chloe looked at Nicola in astonishment. “How clever,” she exclaimed, the arrival of Barney setting her more at ease, as Nicola suspected it might. Barney never failed to impress people with his antics.
Nicola grimaced. “Dan doesn’t seem to think so,” she laughed, watching her ex distastefully wipe the handset with his handkerchief before answering the call.
Dan spoke hurriedly into the telephone. “Can’t someone else handle it?” Nicola heard him say to whoever was on the other end. “Well, look I’m in the middle of something here.” He gave an apologetic shake of his head as he retreated to the kitchen, and Nicola wasn’t sure if the look was intended for herself, or his fiancé.
Seizing the chance to speak frankly to Chloe, she turned to her.
“Look, I’m sorry for surprising you like this. I didn’t mean for you and Dan to arrive here together. I had hoped you and I would get a chance to chat a little first beforehand.”
Chloe nervously cradled the coffee mug in her hand. “I’m the one that should be sorry,” she said, not meeting Nicola’s eyes. “I shouldn’t have gone behind your back like that … if I had known –”