‘Yeah, but I wouldn’t ask if I wasn’t desperate,’ Kes said, her baby blue voice more evident.
What was this girl up to? Doreen wondered. Then decided she didn’t want to go there. ‘Can’t it wait until your mate can get here?’ Doreen asked just wanting them both out of her flat.
‘I would but it’s important and I have to go, but if it’s a prob, no worries.’ Kes smiled, but it was a smile that barely moved her lips let alone reached her eyes. She made no attempt to leave.
Doreen didn’t want to think what could be so important that Kes would leave her kid with a stranger. What would happen if she said no, would the kiddie be left alone? Relenting, she said, ‘I’m shattered and dead on my feet, but if it is only a couple of hours,’ she raised her voice two octaves to emphasise the word, only, ‘then best you get off, but I can tell you, if you piss me off with any shenanigans and you’re not back in two hours, I’ll call Social Services. Got it?’ Doreen felt mean with her threatening attitude, but not only was she beat with exhaustion, but no way was she going to be put on by this slip of a girl. Best to nip it in the bud before anyone gets too settled.
A look of shock flashed across Kes’ face and for a second she hesitated. ‘I understand, but I promise I’ll be back in the time I said.’ Averting her eyes so not to look at Doreen, Kes placed Poppy down on one end of the sofa. ‘Mummy’s just going out for a few moments and this lovely lady is going to look after you.’ As Kes spoke, she produced a small packet of snacks and handed them to the little girl who sat hugging a little teddy bear. Poppy took the packet and watched her mummy walk away.
‘Fanks for this. I very much appreciate your help,’ Kes said and after dropping a kiss on Poppy’s head, rushed out of the flat.
Doreen bent down and smiled at Poppy. ‘Let me open them for you,’ she said and at the same time checked her watch. What had she got herself involved in, she wondered?
‘I’ll put the kettle on,’ Trisha said clattering about in the kitchen.
Doreen didn’t miss the dislike on Trisha’s face and guessed her daughter was not happy with the situation from next door. Nor was she, but it would get sorted. ‘Thanks,’ Doreen said, the missing lottery ticket temporarily forgotten.
Chapter Fifteen
Doreen smiled at the little girl sitting next to her. ‘Would you like a cup of milk to drink with your snacks?’ Poppy nodded her head. Doreen called out to Trisha in the kitchen, ‘Bring a cup of milk along with my tea.’ Poppy pushed herself against the back of the sofa, her little legs well short of the edge. Doreen looked on, remembering how Trisha used to sit at her side like this. It seemed only yesterday.
‘What did your last slave die of,’ Trisha moaned, carrying the drinks through to the lounge and plonking them on the small coffee table.
Doreen looked at her daughter then at Poppy and wondered how little girls morphed into belligerent teenagers.
‘Thanks love,’ Doreen said, but would rather have said something cutting if only she had the energy to be bothered. Holding the cup to Poppy, the little girl took it and drank nosily leaving a milky ring around her mouth. ‘I think you enjoyed that,’ Doreen said handing over one of her little snacks before picking up her own cup of tea.
Kicking her shoes off, Doreen curled her legs up on to the sofa and sipped at her tea. She should be looking for that ticket and checking the numbers again not sitting here expecting the ticket to jump into her lap. She would finish her tea then empty her bag on to the floor to check every item and every nook and cranny to ensure there was not a stray piece of paper or lottery ticket lurking there. She tried not to feel irritated at having to mind the little girl, but of all nights she could have done without it.
‘I’m off out,’ Trisha said appearing in front of her, pulling on her coat, ‘I said I’d meet Chelsea in town and then we’re going to the cinema. So I’ll see you laters.’
Doreen felt the weight of disappointment settle on her shoulders at being left alone. She would have loved to have shared with Trisha the numbers on the paper Mr Greedy had given her and, then, together look for the ticket. Then thinking about it, Trisha would only scoff if it turned out she had read the numbers wrong. Maybe it was for the best her girl was going out. When she had finished her tea she would look at the numbers on her own.
Rallying from her disappointment, she called back, ‘OK, and I hope it is with Chelsea.’ She still had not had a talk with her daughter she needed to add this to her mental list. This thought was endorsed as she took in Poppy and the age she guessed the child’s mother was.
Trisha flicked the strap of her bag over her head and slipped out of the room. ‘Bye Mama, have a nice evening,’ she called from the open front door.
‘Don’t forget we need to talk,’ Doreen called as the front door slammed shut and wondered if her daughter’s feet ever touched the ground as she was constantly flitting from one place to another, but she would talk to her.
Doreen finished her tea and placed the mug on the coffee table. Turning to Poppy, she saw the little girl had fallen asleep hugging her teddy, crumbs from her treats scattered over her clothes and on the sofa. Ignoring the mess, Doreen gently laid Poppy down next to her and smiled. With the little girl settled, she rested her head on the back of the sofa and felt the weight of her own eye lids press down and instead of looking for the ticket, she let her eyes close.
The banging on the door startled Doreen. Her eye lids flew open and she wondered what was going on. Realising she had fallen asleep, she swung her legs down, then slipping her feet into her trainers, noticed Poppy lying at her side. The little girl was fast asleep oblivious of the noise. Not wanting to startle her, Doreen crept quietly to the front door as another knock echoed through the flat.
‘It’s you,’ Doreen hissed raising her finger to her lips to silence Kes, ‘Come on in,’ she mouthed.
‘I said I’d only be a couple of hours,’ Kes said in a half whisper, ‘so fanks for having her. Here…’ Kes added thrusting a packet of cigarettes into Doreen’s hand. ‘It’s a little fanks for helping me out.’
Doreen looked down at the packet and again wondered what her new neighbour was up to. ‘You didn’t need to, but thanks, fags are always welcome.’
‘How she been?’ Kes asked following Doreen.
‘She’s slept most of the time you were out,’ she wanted to add that it was hardly surprising since she seemed to be awake all night.
‘That’s good, she needed to get her head down,’ Kes said as if she was talking about someone much older rather than a twenty-month-old toddler.
As Doreen and Kes entered the lounge, Poppy opened her eyes and smiled at the sound of Kes’ voice. ‘Mumma,’ she said pushing herself up, dropping her teddy, she lifted her arms to be picked up.
In a heartbeat, Kes bent down and scooped Poppy into her arms. Kissing her daughter’s face, Kes held her tight. ‘Mummy’s back lovely and did you have a nice sleep?’
With her thumb in her mouth, Poppy moulded herself to her mother.
Doreen looked on. Perhaps she was a little premature on judging Kes. It was not easy being a young mum on your own. She had been there.
‘Would you like a cuppa?’ Doreen asked, softening towards her new neighbour.
‘Fanks, but as she’s sleepy, I’d like to get her home and into bed. I need some shut eye myself,’ Kes said, her eyes never leaving her daughter.
Doreen was on the same song sheet there, they all needed some kip after the last week. ‘No problem; another time, eh? And thanks for the ciggies.’
‘Yeah, you’re welcome and fanks too for having my baby.’ Kes hugged Poppy closer and turned to leave.
‘Oh, don’t forget this,’ Doreen said handing the teddy bear to Kes. ‘Bye bye, Poppy,’ she added in a gentle voice. Poppy snuggled further into her mother, but not before giving a little smile.
‘Say thank you to the lovely lady,’ Kes said, talking to Poppy. Turning to Doreen, added, ‘She’s gone all shy all of a sudden.
Anyway, fanks again and see you about.’ Carrying Poppy, Kes left Doreen’s flat. Moments later Doreen heard the door next door bang shut and hoped the peace that filled her flat would last all night.
Alone at last, Doreen flopped down on the sofa and reaching out grabbed her bag. She needed to have another look at those numbers. With her bag on her knee, she pulled out the paper and stared at the tiny printed numbers.
‘Blimey,’ she gulped and checked the numbers again. She was, almost, certain she had used four of the numbers. The only way to know for certain was to find the bleeding ticket, but what had she done with it?
Frustration gripping her, she tipped the bag upside down. The contents spilled out over the sofa and on to the floor. With a lack of patience, she shook the bag violently; a further two pieces of paper fell out. Rummaging inside, she found nothing more. Satisfied there was nothing else to be found she tossed the bag to one side. Dropping down on to her knees she picked through the debris of tab ends, old bus tickets, two empty boxes of matches, used tissues, even a piece of chewing gum stuck to a twisted piece of paper.
‘Why’ve I kept all this lot?’ she moaned pushing it all to one side. ‘Where was the lottery ticket?’ she wailed and picked up the paper with the numbers. It was pointless whether she had used two, three or four numbers because without the ticket it meant nothing. ’Twenty-eight,’ she said crestfallen, she had defiantly used twenty-eight. Ticket or no ticket, one bleeding number would win her diddly squat.
She leaned back on the sofa and closed her eyes. Doreen, you are a fool, a silly bloody fool. Her frustration and tiredness took over, and to her sadness, she felt the sting of tears. She needed to get some sleep then she might be able to sort things out properly. Wiping at her face, she heard a noise, holding her breath she heard the front door open.
Chapter Sixteen
‘Crikey, what’s happened?’ Trisha cried coming to a halt in the doorway and taking in the mess scattered across the lounge.
Swiping the back of her hand across her face, Doreen pushed herself on to the sofa and, swallowing down her frustration, replied, ‘I’m sorting out my bag. More to the point, what you doing home? Thought you’d gone to the flicks?’ she said, her voice threatening to betray her inner turmoil.
Not moving, Trisha continued to stare at the contents of her mother’s bag. ‘We arrived at the Regent in plenty of time for the film, but it was a waste of time, big notice on the door announcing it’s closed, a leak or something. Who knows, but no film showing. Anyway, Chelsea suddenly decided she wasn’t in the mood for being out and wanted to get back home so I thought I’d come home to you. And from what I see, it’s a good job I did,’ she said shrugging out of her coat before throwing it over the chair. Dropping down next to her mother and placing a hand on her arm, she asked, ‘So what’s happened? Run out of ciggies again?’ Trisha chuckled.
Doreen glared at her daughter, ‘You’re a cheeky mare at times,’ and wondered what had gone on between Trisha and Chelsea. Something was wrong, but right now she didn’t have the wherewithal to enquire. And, she didn’t believe Trisha would chose to come home rather than go clubbing.
Ignoring her mother’s remark, Trisha made an exaggerated sweep of the room with her arms. ‘So where’s the little ankle biter?’ Trisha asked nodding towards next door.
‘She’s gone home. She was a little darling and, in fairness, Kes was as good as her word and was back here in two hours. No idea what’s she’s up to and if I’m honest and I don’t want to know, but wherever she went, she must have come back with some dosh because she gave me a full packet of fags.’
‘Really!’ Trisha said, incredulity making her voice sound scratchy.
‘I just hope you noted how young Kes is?’
‘I’m not a fool, that school does teach us some things. So, no stressing,’ Trisha said, shifting her position as she twisted a strand of hair into a small spiral. ‘So what’s with the contents of your bag being scattered all over the place?’
‘I needed to find something, but it don’t seem to be there. It’s nothing, nothing at all.’ Doreen said and felt a surge of emotion build at not finding the ticket. Tears stung the back of her eyes and the weepiness of earlier threatened to overcome her. Gawd, what was wrong with her?
Trisha gave her mother a withering look, ‘Well, it doesn’t look like nothing to me,’ she said, scuffing her boot clad feet over the litter. A stifled sob escaped Doreen’s lips. Hearing the sound, Trisha turned to her mother and draping an arm around Doreen’s shoulder, ‘Whoa, what’s up, Mama? This is so not like you; the emotional type, getting upset over nothing and throwing the contents of your bag over the floor. Just spill, because I know something is wrong?’
Moved at Trisha’s concern, Doreen’s feelings rose further and try as she might to pull herself together, tears trickled down her face. ‘It’s me being foolish. Mr Greedy gave me the winning numbers for the week I bought my lottery ticket. I recognised one or two. Well, I think I recognised four and getting excited I thought we’d won a few quid, but we ain’t.’
‘What do you mean?’ Trisha said, removing her arm from around Doreen, her interest picking up.
‘I’m just knackered and didn’t look at the numbers properly. I’ve checked them again and realised I was wrong. Life is a bitch most of the time,’ she said and ran a hand over her face. ‘Sometimes, I wish I could be stronger and make a difference for us.’ She also wished she was not feeling sorry for herself. Tiredness always made her maudlin.
‘Mama, you are the strongest person on the planet and maybe you did see four numbers. Maybe I can look too.’
Doreen shook her head, ‘I’m just bushed. It’s been a busy week, but no matter how many hours I work, it ain’t enough. One week, I pay the rent or the lecky or Mr Greedy. I never pay everyone, cos we ain’t got enough money. Poor old Jack, God rest his soul, left a few quid and it made a difference. How sad is that?’
Trisha bit her bottom lip, ‘Let me leave school and then I can help. I’ll get a job and then we’d have an extra pay packet to help.’
Snapping her head up, Doreen speared her daughter with a teary look, she might be feeling rock bottom, but she would work twenty-four seven to make sure her daughter was educated and out of the pit they lived in.
‘We been through this already and like my answer last time, no way. I’ll repeat it, no way will I let you leave school, and don’t even think about an after school job either. We might be on our uppers, but I want you to get your exams.’ She glared at her daughter. ‘Don’t even think about it. Got it this time?’
Trisha’s steely eyes challenged Doreen. ‘And you can stare all you like it won’t make a scrap of difference. Now, put the kettle on and I’ll clear this mess up,’ Doreen said. Leaning forwards, she pulled her daughter close and kissed the top of her head. ‘I loves you, so let your silly mum pull herself together.’ Lottery ticket or no lottery ticket, she needed to get a grip and get on with it.
Trisha rose, ‘OK, but…’
‘No buts,’ Doreen said cutting across Trisha’s words.
Getting to her feet, Trisha stepped over the strewn papers and rubbish and headed to the kitchen.
‘Going back to your numbers, I never thought you bought lottery tickets. You always said they were a waste of money,’ Trisha said shouting over the noise of the cold water tap filling the kettle.
Not hearing what Trisha was saying, Doreen picked up the empty matchboxes and pushed them to one side. What had possessed her to keep these? she puzzled, but had no idea. Rummaging further through the contents she was bewildered how she had managed to accumulate so much in her bag. It held so much junk and weighed a ton; Hercules would struggle with this lot.
‘I thought you never bought a lottery ticket,’ Trisha repeated leaning on the door jamb as the kettle gurgled to boiling point behind her.
Gathering up the bus tickets, Doreen said, ‘I’ve spent a fortune on these. By now I must have bought the bleedin’ company.’
‘What!’ Trisha said in a sharp voice and threw her arms in the air. ‘Mama, I’m talking lottery tickets not bus tickets. I give in.’ Trisha swung round and reaching out, turned off the gas.
‘I never bought one as a rule, but the Friday it was Jack’s birthday, I relented. I was buoyed up with finding a great card for the old boy and that added with Mr Greedy harping on about how I could benefit from buying one if I won, so to shut him up I bought a ticket.’
Pouring hot water into the two mugs that shared a teabag, Trisha laughed. ‘When did you do anything to shut someone up?’
‘You might laugh, but the thing is, even if we had some of the numbers, I can’t find the bleedin’ ticket. I’m distraught with myself for not being able to find it. Just think what if we have won a couple of hundred and I can’t claim it. I tell you, it’s making me sick thinking about it.’
‘So that’s what all the tears are about,’ Trisha said under her breath. Holding the mugs of tea she saw further tears in her mother’s eyes.
Doreen swallowed down the lump in her throat and tried not to think about what might have been.
‘Come on, drink this and if it will help, I’ll go through this lot.’ Trisha handed over a mug of tea and after taking a sip from her mug, placed it down on the coffee table. She sat down on the floor and rummaged carefully through the contents scattered across the carpet. ‘Yuk, Mama, why don’t you throw you tissues away?’ Trisha squealed tossing the offending articles to one side. ‘What’s this?’ she asked pulling a scrunched up piece of pink paper from under an empty cigarette packet.
‘It’s the numbers, but don’t look at them, cos I don’t want to see them again. They are worthless if we can’t find the ticket.’
Trisha ignored her mother and read the numbers. She glanced at her mother.
‘Don’t say noffing,’ Doreen cried out, scooping up the rest of the clutter from the sofa. ‘Hell’s teeth, how did that happen?’ she squealed as the old piece of chewing gum, still attached to the twisted paper, stuck to her fingers like a limpet. She tried to dislodge it, but it stuck to her other fingers.
The Birthday Card Page 8