Judith Wants To Be Your Friend

by Annie Weir

  A bit further down opposite Fiona sat a youngish man who looked as though he hadn’t slept for a month. He was with a young woman and a middle-aged couple. Rosie heard the reporter say to his colleague that he was the driver of the train. She looked over then nodded and whispered to her mother that the young woman was Shelly from Mill View.

  As soon as the service was over, the reporter, a young man, approached Rosie. He looked at her and held her gaze, she thought, for a little too long for such a sad occasion then he said, ‘So, where’s your Auntie Judith today?’

  Nice looking though he was, she suddenly felt repulsed by him, so much so that she didn’t even answer. She turned back to Fiona and took her arm.

  ‘Let’s go, Mum.’

  Fiona nodded, and with one last look round, walked towards the car.

  ‘Better that she wasn’t here,’ she said.

  ‘Yes, but I wish we knew where she was.’

  ‘She’ll tell us when she’s ready. Shall we go to her flat this afternoon and decide what to do with her stuff?’

  ‘Yes. Can we take most of it home so it’s there when she’s ready?’

  ‘Poor Judith,’ they said together.

  Chapter 13

  Carlisle, March 2010

  Monday 1st March 2010

  Back at work today and now back at Spanish. For once I have something to talk about. I tell the group about my trip to see my mother but without going into how shocked I was to see the state she’s in, and about going to the theatre in Newcastle and walking in Northumberland. It all sounds quite jolly when told in halting Spanish; it was relaxing and a chance not to think about anything except where to go and what to do for a few days.

  I did feel refreshed until I got back to work where the atmosphere has got worse since the police interviews and fingerprinting. Anita seems glad that I’m back; she’s had to hold the fort for a few days on her own. That just goes to show that I should be second-in-command. Maybe that can be my next mission. Actually, maybe I should be the supervisor if Maureen doesn’t come back; or even if she does. She’s hardly been stable lately.

  Anyway back to the here and now. I must stop this day-dreaming as I miss what’s going on. Senor Rossi is setting homework for next week. He has photocopied some articles from Spanish magazines and newspapers and is handing them out. We are to read our own then précis it to tell everyone about it next time. No problem; my spoken Spanish was actually quite rusty but I can still read it reasonably well. Nine o’clock comes round.

  ‘How are you, Joanna?’ I ask on the way out. ‘We don’t seem to have had much chance to chat tonight.’

  ‘No, it gets more like a proper lesson all the time, doesn’t it? I’m so glad you had a good break. That business at work was really getting to you.’

  ‘Yes, thanks, it was good to get right away.’

  ‘Mam suggested I ask you for dinner one night when none of us are working. How about Thursday this week? I have to change my shift and work the morning but I’ll have the afternoon and evening off.’

  Gaynor suggested I come for dinner. Well, well, well. Maybe she’s fed up with Danny-this Danny-that the whole time as well. I haven’t spoken to her since that afternoon in January so I suppose this is her making a gesture of peace. It might even be something we can bond over.

  ‘That’ll be lovely. Thanks. Shall I bring something?’

  ‘No, just turn up.’

  ‘Well I’ll bring some wine, shall I?’

  ‘OK, thanks. About seven?’

  I nod and jump up and down on the spot. It’s still cold enough for snow to be lying on the hills. ‘I’m going to have to move. I’m freezing. See you on Thursday night.’

  I decide to walk back home. It’s a cold night but clear and frost-free at the moment. I did a lot of walking in Northumberland and started to feel a bit fitter again. I must keep it up. The River Eden looks absolutely beautiful as I cross the bridge. I love it when the moon is reflected right in the middle, kind of solid in the centre and ruffled around the edges. I must be feeling better if I’m noticing things like that again. Oh well, the only way now is up; metaphorically and actually as the road steepens here. That’s OK; I’ve started to feel cold again by stopping to marvel at nature. Keep moving, that’s the answer.

  Thursday 4th March 2010

  My little holiday wasn’t expensive but I did spend more than I had intended so I decide to catch the bus to Joanna’s house tonight rather than get a taxi. I may get one back, I’ll see how I feel later. The trip through Carlisle and out the other side is quite familiar to me now and there isn’t much point in looking out of the windows anyway as it’s dark. Just over three weeks until the clocks change again, thank God, I hate these dark evenings. The bus pulls into Cumrew Close and I get off and turn up the lane to her street.

  Ricky throws himself at me as she answers the door. He’s in one of his hyperactive moods. Joanna suggests that he and I do a jigsaw or read a story while she finishes cooking and before Ricky goes to bed. He chooses a jigsaw and a book. That suits me as I am able to avoid Gaynor’s eyes and conversation for a while longer. She has a bottle of wine in hand as usual, and I think I am safe to accept a glass knowing what she’s going to be like in an hour. She takes Ricky to bed after a while and after he has ceremoniously kissed us all goodnight. I sit in the kitchen and drink another glass while Joanna puts the finishing touches to rack of lamb, new potatoes and a selection of fresh vegetables. It smells lovely; obviously sprinkled with rosemary, and there’s mint sauce and redcurrant jelly to go with it. I’m starving and am glad when Gaynor returns and we can eat.

  ‘So, Judith, how have you been?’ she says. She sounds friendly but I detect the inquisitor style she started with on Christmas Day.

  ‘Oh, fine thanks, Gaynor. You?’

  ‘Yes, I’ve been busy. I hear you have too, with Maureen being off – sick.’

  I turn and give her a look that Joanna can’t see that says back off, then turn back and smile sadly.

  ‘Yes, poor Maureen. I hope it’s all going to be cleared up soon and she can get back to work with a clean slate.’

  ‘Do you?’

  ‘Yes, I do. I am so sure there’s an explanation for it all.’

  ‘Judith’s said that all along, Mam, that she doesn’t think Maureen did anything wrong.’

  ‘Yes, so I hear.’

  ‘Do you know Maureen?’ I ask Gaynor.

  ‘Not well, but I work with her older sister. The family aren’t happy about it all.’

  ‘No, I’m sure.’ I wonder where this conversation is going. Gaynor pours more wine, and to be honest I feel like I need it. Joanna gives her mother a warning look and I can’t tell whether it is for the booze or for the line of conversation. We eat in silence for a while.

  ‘This is delicious, Joanna,’ I say, absolutely meaning it.

  ‘Thanks. It’s my favourite meal to cook for guests.’

  ‘Where’s Danny tonight?’ Gaynor asks.

  ‘He’s at his parents’ place. His brother is back for a couple of days so they’re all catching up together.’

  ‘Nice. Did you see your family while you were away, Judith?’

  Here we go again. ‘Yes, well I saw my mum.’

  ‘Not your sister or niece?’

  ‘No. Rosie’s away at university now and my sister happened to be in Leeds visiting her when I was there.’

  ‘When did you last see them?’

  ‘I can’t remember exactly.’ I can, actually, remember exactly, but I’m not going to tell nosey Gaynor; Monday 16th February 2009 at about nine in the evening; over a year ago. It wasn’t the happiest day.

  ‘Roughly’

  ‘Mam, stop it, you’re doing it again. Stop asking so many questions.’

  ‘I’m just interested. It’s n
ice when someone’s interested in you, isn’t it Judith?’

  Personally I hate it when anyone takes any interest in me, but that is not the answer required here. Gaynor tops up my glass and I take a sip knowing I should stop drinking now. Where is she going with this? She tops up her own glass as well, and Joanna’s, but she is clearing the plates and going to the kitchen to sort out dessert. Gaynor gives me a meaningful look before I can give her one.

  ‘I’m really interested in people,’ she goes on, ‘maybe that’s why I enjoy working in Marks and Sparks. I’m one of the few that actually like the customers!’ and she laughs in a not-funny way. Joanna comes back over with apple crumble and I laugh along with Gaynor.

  ‘That’s better,’ she says, ‘you two laughing together for a change.’

  I am not convinced. Gaynor is pleasant enough for the rest of the meal, but I am still on my guard. I thought I had relaxed over my holiday but now I think I am still a bit tense. Joanna goes to make us a coffee and she starts again.

  ‘For example,’ she says as Joanna comes and sits back down, ‘I was really interested in that woman in town.’

  ‘Which woman, Mam?’ she asks.

  ‘Oh, Joanna, I don’t think I mentioned it to you. This woman burst out of the crowd of shoppers and started shouting at Judith. I thought she was going to strangle her at one point, didn’t you think that, Judith?’

  ‘No, it was nothing really. A misunderstanding.’

  ‘Did she mistake you for someone else?’

  ‘No, she didn’t,’ Gaynor buts in, ‘did she, Judith?’

  ‘No she didn’t. But what she was referring to was a misunderstanding from ages ago.’

  ‘Not that long ago, surely. Just over a year wasn’t it? Just before you moved to Carlisle?’

  ‘What are you both talking about?’ Joanna asks, looking from me to her mother and back again. Gaynor holds my stare and I realise that she is not as tipsy as she has been making out and my head is starting to spin. I feel at a considerable disadvantage. I continue to hold her stare while I decide how to deal with this. I stick to a version that no-one can possibly dispute; the truth as I see it.

  ‘It’s something I’ve been trying to forget,’ I start to say.

  ‘I bet you have, too!’

  ‘Is it about your dead husband?’ Joanna asks me. ‘If so, Mam, just leave it.’

  ‘Dead husband!’ Gaynor snorts. ‘Which dead husband might that be, Judith?’

  ‘Mam, let Judith speak!’

  ‘A really good friend, someone I cared for very much, had an accident and was killed.’

  ‘Oh no, Judith, how awful for you. Mam, leave her alone. How did she die, Judith? Were you there?’

  ‘She was there alright. It was her fault.’

  I look at Joanna and say with all the sincerity that comes with the truth, ‘It was not my fault. It was an accident.’

  ‘The police interviewed you,’ says Gaynor.

  ‘The police interviewed everybody who knew her. The police always investigate what they call an unnatural death. Of course they interviewed me.’

  ‘They let you go, obviously.’

  I sigh deeply. ‘Obviously. I didn’t have anything to do with it.’ God, my head is swimming. I really don’t feel too good but I can’t run away from this now.

  ‘That woman didn’t think so.’

  ‘No she didn’t and still doesn’t. Her son was involved. It wasn’t his fault either, it was an accident, but he sort of blames himself.’

  ‘What on earth happened?’ Joanna looks at me, pleading to be let in on the story.

  ‘Your sister blames you too, and your niece does.’

  ‘They don’t blame me at all. They’re just upset about it. We all are. I left Hexham to get away from it. I wish I hadn’t in a way; maybe it would all be sorted now if I’d stayed.’

  Gaynor snorts even more loudly at this. ‘Yeah, right!’

  ‘Mam, stop it now,’ Joanna sort of screams. The scream cuts right through my head that has started to throb in the last few minutes. I feel very hot. I feel that if I don’t go outside and get some air I will faint or shout back. I have to get outside.

  ‘I need the loo,’ I say and stagger to the downstairs cloakroom. I splash cold water onto my red face then sit on the toilet for a few minutes to try to get myself back onto an even keel

  God, what has Gaynor put in that wine? It really isn’t that strong. Oh my God, conspiracy theories now. My coat is hanging on the peg. I wonder whether I can stay steady enough to calmly lift it down and put it on without any fuss. I wash my hands and face in cold water again and grab my coat as I make my way back to the table.

  ‘I need fresh air,’ I say as levelly as I can. ‘That wine has given me a headache.’ Gaynor smirks. Maybe she did put something in it or maybe she thinks she has won this round. Either way, by fair means or foul, she has won this round and I simply want to go outside and walk home even if it is a couple of miles on a freezing night. I have to work early tomorrow as well. I have to leave. I have to sober up. ‘Thank you for dinner, Joanna. I’ll see you soon.’

  I walk out of the front door in fierce and angry defiance at Gaynor who is still staring at me. How dare she do this to me? How fucking dare she? I can’t even get her back because she’s Joanna’s mother. How fucking dare she?

  I start to walk down the street back to where the main road joins it. A car has just pulled round the corner and I see straight away that it is Danny. I step out in front of him from behind a parked van and he swerves into a car parked opposite. That sets off the car alarm causing its owner to come running down the path. He starts yelling at Danny who has climbed out of his car, albeit from the passenger door. The driver’s door must be bent but he doesn’t look hurt.

  ‘It wasn’t my fault, mate,’ says Danny, ‘she stepped out in front of me – from nowhere.’

  ‘Yes, and you can go back to nowhere!’ I scream at him.

  ‘What?’ He spins round and takes a closer look at me. ‘It’s Judith, Jo’s friend, isn’t it? What’s going on?’

  ‘Don’t call her Jo! I don’t like it!’

  ‘What about my car?’ the man from across the road says as his wife comes out with the keys and switches off the alarm.

  Joanna and Gaynor come running out, and I can hear Ricky crying inside the house.

  ‘Danny, what happened?’

  ‘Jo! Judith ran out in front of me. I crashed.’ He’s started to shake a bit but just enough to make her concerned. Joanna gives him a hug.

  ‘Go back!’ I scream at Danny again, ‘Just go back to wherever you came from.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘Don’t worry about her, Danny,’ Gaynor joins in. She had gone back into the house to get Ricky and she carries him like a shield from me. He is still crying.

  ‘You stay out of this, Gaynor,’ I hiss, ‘it was alright until you started.’

  ‘Started! Started what? To tell my vulnerable daughter what you are really like? I think she has a right to know, especially if she’s leaving Ricky with you.’

  ‘A right to know what?’ Joanna asks. ‘Nobody has told me yet what this is all about.’

  ‘It’s about nothing,’ I think I am screaming again, ‘except your mother’s suspicious mind. Why can’t I just get on with my life in Carlisle without someone dragging it all up again?’ The someone was accompanied by a stare at Gaynor.

  She turns back to the house, soothing Ricky and muttering that as long as no one was injured she was going into the warm to finish her coffee.

  ‘What about my car?’ the man from across the road says again.

  A police car comes round the corner and two large policemen take charge. God, I’m a bit fed up with giving police statements. Danny and I are breathalysed. He’s sober. I�
�m not. They tell me to wait in the police car and they would drive me home. Danny is able to drive his car back off the other one and park it safely outside Joanna’s house. She stands next to him throughout, occasionally looking over to me uncertainly. They all agree the insurance claims and arrangements for repairs can wait until daylight. The police offer Danny a lift home as well, but Joanna says he can stay the night at her house and not to worry about that.

  My phone rings. It’s Ken. I almost don’t answer it but have lost all rational thought.

  ‘Judith, it’s me.’

  ‘I know, Ken, it says so on my phone.’

  ‘Are you OK?’

  ‘No. I’m sitting in the back of a police car. My friend isn’t my friend any more. Gaynor knows everything. Everything is total shit. I am definitely definitely definitely not OK.’ I know I am slurring my words, and that my attempt to disguise it is making me sound ridiculous.

  ‘Where are you? Who isn’t your friend? Everything about what?’

  ‘Forget it, Ken. Not your problem.’

  ‘It is. I’m your friend too. I’m your boyfriend.’

  ‘No you’re not. You never were, not really. I needed you for something but now that’s done. That went wrong as well. It’s all gone very very very wrong.’

  ‘I was; I am. What do you mean? We can sort whatever’s the matter.’

  ‘No, we can’t. I don’t want to anyway.’ I click the off button and slump back in the police car and wait for them to drive me home. I can hear my mother’s voice. You’ve done it again, Judith. You’ve really done it this time.

  Friday 5th March 2010

  I get up for work on autopilot. The shower wakes me up a bit but doesn’t help my headache. I take some aspirins and drink a cup of coffee about ten times stronger than normal. Walking to work I feel as though I have a block of lead on each foot. I make my way across the car park towards the staff entrance, my head pounding in time with my heartbeat. I see Anita and Sal getting out of Anita’s car. I wonder why three of us are needed this early in the morning. Just as well they’re both here, the way I’m feeling today.