The Choir on Hope Street

by Annie Lyons

  I followed her down towards the kitchen. The television was on in the lounge and a frail elderly lady was staring at it. I paused in the doorway.

  ‘Hello, you must be Caroline’s mum. I’m Natalie,’ I said. The woman glanced up at me and then stared back at the screen without answering.

  ‘Oh, don’t bother with her,’ slurred Caroline, carrying on to the kitchen. ‘She won’t remember.’

  ‘Er, nice to meet you,’ I said before following Caroline. There was an empty wine bottle on the side and a new one on the go. ‘Are you all right?’ I asked as she slumped herself down at the kitchen table.

  ‘Am fine,’ she slurred, picking up her wine glass and taking another sip. ‘Want one?’

  Like you wouldn’t believe. ‘All right, but just a small one please.’

  She fetched me a glass and poured it almost to the brim. ‘Cheers!’ she cried, tapping her glass against mine, slopping wine onto the table in the process.

  She didn’t even rush to clear it up. Things must be bad. ‘Here’s to shit days,’ I said, taking a sip and sitting down opposite her. ‘So what’s happened to you?’

  ‘Oh, nothing much, just the usual having to deal with my mother, another home having rejected her application and, oh yes, Oliver has lost his job.’

  ‘Oh bugger. Sorry.’

  ‘Bugger indeed,’ she agreed. ‘And now he’s gone AWOL and has switched off his phone.’

  ‘Double bugger.’

  ‘Double bugger and bollocks,’ she confirmed, waggling a drunken finger. ‘What about you?’

  I like this new drunken, sweary Caroline. She reminds me of me. ‘I took your advice and told Dan to stay away.’

  ‘Well cheers to that!’

  ‘Not really. I phoned him while I was on the school trip and Woody overheard.’

  She grimaced. ‘Bugger.’

  I nodded. ‘So what are you going to do?’

  ‘Get drunk.’

  ‘I think you’ve already done that.’

  Caroline gave a clumsy nod. ‘Great. I always like to finish my to-do list. As you well know.’

  This really is an all-new Caroline. She’s even making jokes at her own expense.

  I watched her for a moment. It was time for an intervention. ‘Listen, Caroline, you don’t have to take my advice but I’m a woman who has drowned her sorrows on more than one occasion and you just end up feeling like shit the next day, so would you let me make you a coffee to help you sober up?’

  Caroline shrugged. ‘If you like.’

  I switched on the kettle and found a mug. ‘I’m sure everything will be okay,’ I offered, putting a glass of water in front of her.

  ‘Are you?’ I could tell she meant me rather than her.

  ‘Well, no actually, but you’ve got to keep going, haven’t you? Isn’t that one of your mantras?’

  She gave a weak smile. ‘I suppose it is. Sorry. You must think I’m a nightmare.’

  ‘Don’t worry about it. We all have our off days and anyway, you can always shun Waitrose and come shopping at Aldi with me,’ I joked, placing the coffee in front of her. Caroline frowned.

  Whoops. Clearly not ready to joke about it yet.

  ‘Look, do you want me to stick around and chat? I was going to go back to choir but I’m happy to stay if you want company?’

  Caroline stared at me as if I’d just suggested an orgy. ‘I’ll be fine. Thank you. You go.’

  Off you pop, Natalie. You are dismissed.

  ‘All right. If you’re sure. But I’m always around if you need someone to talk to.’ I knew this wasn’t really Caroline’s way, but it was mine, so I felt compelled to offer.

  ‘Thank you, Natalie. And thank you for checking up on me.’

  ‘Bye then,’ I said, standing up and heading towards the door.

  ‘Bye,’ she replied, without looking up.

  I thought about warning against the perils of self-pity but decided against it. Lord knows, I’d indulged myself more than was probably healthy in recent times. I tiptoed out of the house, shutting the door behind me, and headed back to choir and cake.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  CAROLINE

  I have to confess that having Oliver at home was not turning out to be the unexpected pleasure I’d hoped it might be. For a start, he was very untidy. I was used to him leaving newspapers and dirty mugs all over the place but normally only in the evenings and at weekends – it was a contained messiness. However, now he was home all day, he left a trail of empty bowls, dirty plates and mugs. The kitchen was littered with filthy saucepans, used tea-bags and crumbs, whilst the toilet seat was always in the ‘up’ position and there was never any milk.

  He has also told me that he intends to use this time as a ‘sabbatical’. His firm have been pretty generous with his severance package and he seems to think that this means he can take all the time in the world to decide what to do next.

  ‘I want to do something worthwhile, Caroline,’ he smiled, running a hand over his five-day stubble. ‘Something different. Make a change, you know?’

  How about changing out of the jogging bottoms you’ve been wearing for the past three days? That would be a start.

  I didn’t say this, of course. I didn’t want to suppress his enthusiasm. I tried a different tack. ‘Have you called your old contacts to see if they have any leads on jobs?’

  He shook his head vigorously. ‘I don’t think that’s right for me. I think this is an opportunity to do something new and exciting.’ He pulled me into his arms and kissed me. I considered telling him that he really needed to brush his teeth but kept my counsel. ‘Meanwhile, I’m going to enjoy some precious time at home with my beautiful wife and darling daughter. How about I take Tilly to school?’

  ‘Yay, Daddy’s taking me to school!’ cried Matilda, jumping up and down. ‘Will you pick me up too?’

  ‘If you like, pumpkin,’ grinned Oliver.

  ‘This is the best day ever,’ declared Matilda, running off to find her shoes.

  Thank you, Matilda. Please don’t feel the need to spare my feelings. Daddy’s home now, so Mummy can go and boil her head. Well I won’t let it bother me.

  ‘Fine. I’ll take this opportunity to get to the gym early,’ I said, reaching for my trainers.

  ‘Yeah, actually. About that …’ began Oliver.

  ‘What about that?’ I asked.

  ‘We got the gym membership through work. So it’s a bit of a no-go now,’ he winced.

  ‘Okay. I’ll put it on the card.’

  ‘Yeah, I’m just not sure we should be forking out on luxuries like gym membership,’ he said. He spotted the look of horror on my face. ‘Just for the time being. I’m sure we’ll be able to re-join once we’re back on our feet,’ he added.

  ‘Right. Okay,’ I said. ‘Anything else? Am I still allowed to shop at Waitrose, or is it the 99p store for us now?’

  ‘I love the 99p store,’ observed Matilda. I ignored her.

  Oliver sensed my irritation and put one arm around my shoulder. ‘We may need to make some cuts but it’s fine for now,’ he said, kissing the top of my head.

  Fine for now? What does that even mean? That it won’t be fine in the future? That I will actually have to comprehend shopping at Aldi with Natalie? I shivered with dread.

  ‘Come on then, Daddy. We don’t want to be late,’ said Matilda, grabbing hold of his hand.

  ‘Bye then,’ I said, standing in the hallway, watching them go.

  ‘Bye,’ said Matilda without a backward glance.

  I tend not to let life ruffle me. I am of the belief that you should get on with it and not allow yourself to become a victim of circumstance, but there was something about the casual way with which my daughter brushed me off that upset me a little.

  It wasn’t helped by the fact that she had formed such a strong and easy bond with my mother. They were constant companions. My mother’s communication skills were limited now but Matilda seemed to have brought her out of herself
somehow. It was as if a light had been switched on in the back of her brain again. They would often look at photographs together and one day, I had found some old cine-films in the loft. I was curious to see what was on them so I had them converted into DVDs. One Sunday afternoon, Oliver and I sat down with Matilda and my mother to watch them.

  ‘These are funny,’ laughed Matilda. ‘Everyone looks as if they’re walking really fast.’

  It was true. There was no sharpness in the resolution or slickness in the production like the digital films of today, but there was a charm in the way that the people on screen had been told to walk towards the camera and try to look natural. There was one particular film of me at about the age of three or four. It looked as if we were in the middle of a big field, the blanket of green stretching all around us, the sky a pure blue; the perfect day really. My father had obviously been filming, instructing my mother and me to walk towards him from a distance. My mother looked so young and bright. I gazed in wonder as she caught hold of my hand and we skipped along, happy and giggling with delight. I couldn’t remember laughing with my mother as a child. She always seemed so cross to me.

  I glanced over at her. She was sitting very upright on the sofa, staring at the screen, her face expressionless as usual, but I noticed tears streaming down her face. I felt an unexpected ache in my chest and with it, a surge of panic.

  This is a mistake. We shouldn’t be watching this. It’s too late for this.

  ‘You look so happy!’ declared Matilda, gazing up at her grandmother. ‘Oh, Nanny, why are you crying?’ she asked in alarm. She raised herself onto her knees and wrapped her arms around my mother, planting tiny kisses on her face. ‘Don’t cry, Nanny. Don’t cry,’ she soothed.

  I felt Oliver reach for my hand but I gently pulled away. ‘I think I’ll make some tea,’ I said before leaving the room. Once in the kitchen, I heard the sob I’d been suppressing escape from me. It sounded like the noise a distressed animal would make.

  Don’t put yourself through this, Caroline. You don’t need to. Everything was fine as it was, the past was set as you remembered it. Where’s the sense in dredging things up, things that can’t be resolved? Don’t upset the balance now.

  I regained my composure. It was just an old film. It didn’t mean a thing.

  By the time Oliver reappeared twenty minutes later, I had made us both coffee and was sitting at the kitchen table checking the choir’s Twitter feed. We had over three thousand followers now including, I noted with annoyance, Danielle and the Dulwich Darlings. She had even posted a response to the video of our south-east finals performance:

  ‘You guys are ADORABLE – I want to adopt you all. #bless’

  Whereas I had an immediate and over-powering urge to push her off a cliff.

  ‘Everything all right at the school?’ I asked as Oliver sat down next to me at the kitchen table.

  ‘Fine,’ he smiled. ‘I saw your friend, Nat is it?’

  ‘Natalie,’ I replied. ‘How about Zoe? Did she say, “Hi”?’

  He furrowed his brow. ‘I don’t think I saw her. Mind you, I can’t remember what she looks like, but Natalie made a point of speaking to me. She seems nice.’ He picked up his coffee mug and took a sip. ‘Ahhh, I could get used to this,’ he grinned, leaning back in his chair.

  ‘Don’t get too used to it,’ I warned. ‘We don’t want to end up on the breadline.’

  ‘That won’t happen. I’ve got enough money to keep us going for at least six months.’

  ‘And pay for holidays?’

  He took hold of my hand.‘If the lady wants a holiday, the lady shall have a holiday,’ he said, kissing his way up my arm.

  ‘I don’t mean a camping holiday, by the way,’ I said.

  Oliver stared at me. ‘Now actually, that’s a really good idea. Tilly would LOVE to go camping, I’m sure. Just think of it – the great outdoors, cooking in the open, sleeping under the stars—’

  ‘Freezing to death and holding onto the tent in a torrential storm,’ I added.

  He laughed. ‘It would be fun. You would love it.’

  ‘I love nice warm hotels with spas attached,’ I said firmly.

  He smiled, shuffled his chair closer to me and started to kiss my neck. ‘And huge four-poster beds too?’

  ‘Provided the sheets have a thread count of at least eight hundred,’ I murmured.

  He kissed me on the mouth and stared into my eyes. The sound of my mother shuffling into the kitchen made us both jump.

  Oliver leapt from his chair. ‘Patricia!’ he cried. ‘Would you like a cup of tea?’ She stared at him before shuffling back out again. ‘That’ll be a no then,’ he laughed. ‘Right, I’m going for a shower,’ he said, kissing me again and heading for the stairs.

  Moments later the doorbell rang. ‘I’ve got it,’ I called.

  I made my way down the hall, peering through the glass to see if I recognised who was there. I expected it to be Jim with a parcel but the person was much smaller. I opened the door to a woman, who I didn’t recognise immediately, although I knew we’d met before. She was slight with short hair and elfin features and a veritable array of ear piercings. She smiled at me. She had a natural beauty and warmth, which said, ‘I am a good person. You can trust me.’

  ‘Mrs Taylor? Do you remember me? I’m Laurie. I was your mother’s care worker.’

  ‘Oh yes, of course,’ I said, a little confused. ‘Would you like to come in?’

  ‘If it’s not too much trouble. I hope you don’t mind me dropping by. It’s my day off and I just wondered how Patricia was?’ she said. I was astonished. This woman had given up a day off to come and visit my mother.

  ‘She’s just in the lounge. Do go through. Can I get you a tea or coffee?’

  ‘A tea would be great, thanks. Milk, no sugar.’

  I watched her enter the room. ‘Patricia! Do you remember me? Laurie?’

  I glanced into the lounge and was amazed to see my mother reaching out her arms to embrace this woman. ‘Laurie,’ she said with a smile.

  I busied myself in the kitchen, suppressing the envy I felt.

  It’s ridiculous, Caroline. You don’t want a relationship with your mother. It’s too late. Remember?

  I stayed in the kitchen for a while. I thought I’d leave them to it. It was better that way. After a time, I heard Laurie helping my mother to the toilet before appearing in the doorway.

  ‘So, how are you coping?’ she asked.

  ‘Fine,’ I said. If you can call the daily washing of soiled bedsheets and living with a stranger in your house ‘fine’.

  I noticed Laurie take in her surroundings, smiling at the pictures and photographs on the fridge. ‘Is this your daughter?’ she asked.

  ‘Yes. That’s Matilda. She’s eight,’ I replied.

  ‘I bet your mother loves her,’ she observed.

  I knew that Matilda adored my mother but I hadn’t really considered how my mother felt. ‘They have formed quite a close bond, yes,’ I admitted.

  ‘And what about you?’

  ‘Pardon?’

  ‘How is your bond?’

  ‘Well, it’s fine.’ There’s that word again. I’m fine. She’s fine. We’re fine. Everything’s fine. Now please stop prying.

  ‘Don’t take this the wrong way, Caroline, but I know that you didn’t visit your mother very often and I also know that she dotes on you.’

  Dotes on you. Oliver had used the same phrase. I smiled at Laurie. She was kind but she didn’t understand. ‘Look, Laurie, I appreciate you coming and I’m sure my mother does too, but you don’t know what happened in my family. It’s private and I don’t need anyone interfering.’

  Laurie fixed me with a look. There was no judgement in her gaze – it was more as if she were trying to read my soul, to glean the truth because she knew I was hiding it. ‘I’m not here to make you feel guilty or uncomfortable,’ she said. ‘I just know from experience that the pain and regret you feel after someone dies can become alm
ost unbearable if you don’t do your best for them while they’re alive. I see something in your mother – a pain and distress, a hidden upset she needs to resolve. I’m sure that you have your reasons for not allowing her to do that but I would beg you to think again. For her sake and for yours.’ She reached across the table and squeezed one of my hands, her smile understanding and encouraging.

  ‘I’ll think about it,’ I said. I won’t but I have to say something to bring an end to this.

  She nodded and stood up. ‘Thank you for the tea. I’ll pop in to say goodbye to Patricia and see myself out.’ I heard the front door close behind her and then the sound of Oliver coming down the stairs.

  ‘Who was that?’ he asked, standing in the kitchen doorway.

  ‘No-one important,’ I replied, rising to my feet and gathering up my bag. ‘I’m just going out for a bit. Is it okay if I leave you here with my mother?’

  ‘Of course, darling,’ he said, kissing me on the way past. ‘We’ll be fine. I’m going to get online and suss out some new job opportunities.

  ‘Great,’ I smiled. ‘Good luck.’

  I drove into town and spent a couple of hours indulging in a little retail therapy. This was a rare treat for me but one which I felt I deserved today. The hall campaign could wait, the issues with my mother could wait, hopefully indefinitely. I made my way to my favourite boutique on the high street. The woman behind the counter knew me by sight and was always happy to recommend clothes or jewellery that she felt might suit me. I soon found a dress and a top I liked and carried them to the changing room to try on. I had just taken off my top when I heard two voices that I recognised – Amanda and Zoe. I was about to get dressed again so that I could go out and greet them but something stopped me – to be honest, I was a little miffed that they were meeting up without me. Amanda was often visiting clients nearby and we would meet for lunch. I took out my phone to check our WhatsApp group but there was nothing. I stayed where I was and listened, my adrenaline starting to pump.