I put on my jacket and run towards the door, but before I leave I turn to Aunt Viv and Mary-Jane. ‘Thank you,’ I say, ‘I needed to hear that.’
*
Outside, I dial Ben’s number. The moment he comes on to the line I know something is wrong. ‘It’s Emily,’ he says. ‘She’s hurt her arm.’
Ben tells me he can’t talk; he’s about to pick her up from school and take her straight to hospital.
‘Do you want me to come with you?’
He hesitates.
‘I’ll jump in a cab and be at the school gates in five,’ I say, giving him no choice, before I call Aunt Viv, asking if she can pick Louis up later and look after him until I get home. There’s been an emergency with Emily.
*
Ben, Emily and I walk through the doors of A & E. Emily has one of Ben’s woolly jumpers wrapped round her shoulders. She’s crying, punctuated little sobs. When we’re seen by a duty doctor, he looks carefully at her arm and I do my best not to turn away when I see a big swollen lump where there shouldn’t be. Ben informs the doctor that she’d fallen hard onto the stone steps leading to the classroom, her hand outstretched, and she must have hit the ground at an odd angle. ‘I’d seen a dead bird,’ Emily mutters tearfully, ‘and it made me scared when someone said my mum was dead too, like the bird.’
The doctor promises her everything will be fine, before informing us that Emily will need to have an X-ray. My mobile rings. Flustered I dig into my handbag, apologising. Without looking at the screen I switch it off. ‘I suspect she’s broken her arm above the elbow.’ The doctor turns to Emily with a warm smile, ‘But don’t worry, you’ll be as right as rain in no time.’
‘Do you want me to stay?’ I ask Ben, when Emily is led into the X-ray room.
*
It’s early evening when Ben and I are on the children’s ward, waiting for Emily to be taken down to theatre. Ben had to sign a consent form, the doctor warning him that as with any operation there are risks. She will need her arm pinned and will be put under a general anaesthetic; the operation should take an hour or so. Ben is perched on the edge of her bed. I’m sitting beside her, on a deeply uncomfortable bright-blue plastic leather armchair with a high back. Emily looks pale in her white hospital gown. ‘I want my mummy,’ she says, her face crumbling.
Ben moves closer, puts his arms around her. ‘I’m so sorry, Emily, but I’m here. Uncle Ben is here. And Polly is here too, and everything is going to be fine.’
‘I want Mummy,’ she repeats, Ben helplessly trying to comfort her.
When Emily is wheeled off to theatre, he turns to me, anguish in his eyes. ‘She’s so little,’ he says. ‘If anything happens to her …’
‘It won’t,’ I promise.
*
For the next hour, while Emily is in theatre, Ben and I take a walk around the hospital. I suggest we find something to eat, buying us both a tired-looking chicken salad sandwich that neither of us wants from the canteen. When I turn my mobile back on, only to make sure Aunt Viv hasn’t called, I see I have five missed calls, all from a number I don’t recognise. ‘If you need to call someone,’ Ben murmurs. I tuck the phone firmly back into my bag. ‘No, it’s fine.’ I try to keep the conversation going, unsuccessfully. It’s as if the clocks have stopped for Ben. Time is suspended. He’s not with me; he’s lying next to Emily. I sense he’s thinking of Grace too, how her death was so unexpected, that anything can happen when you least expect it. ‘I know it’s only a broken arm,’ he mutters when we’re returning to the ward, ‘but …’ He pauses. ‘I can’t lose Emily. I know I’ll never be enough for her, she wants her mum, but she means the world to me. She’s the only part of Grace left. Does that make sense? What if something goes wrong?’ He glances at his watch for what feels like the millionth time. I realise that whatever I say isn’t going to calm him, so I put my arms around him instead.
*
When the nurse tells us that Emily is in recovery and that the operation went well, the relief on Ben’s face is overwhelming. ‘When can I see her?’ he asks, strength returning in his voice.
‘Now,’ the nurse replies with an encouraging smile, ‘but she will need to stay in hospital overnight to be monitored, it’s standard procedure.’
I call Aunt Viv to give her an update. ‘Stay as long as he needs you,’ she says.
Emily is woozy when she wakes up, her arm in a cast. I stand back, making sure Ben is the first person she sees. Disorientated, she looks around, as if searching for something lost. ‘Mummy,’ she says.
Ben grips her hand, kisses her cheek. ‘It’s Uncle Ben. Mummy’s not here,’ he says softly, ‘but that doesn’t mean she’s not thinking of us. She’s watching over you and me, especially you, and she loves you. I love you too. What a brave girl you are.’
‘Daddy,’ she says. Ben glances at me for a split second, before turning back to her. I am almost in tears.
‘Daddy,’ she repeats, trying to hug him with her good arm.
Tears are in his eyes as they hug, Ben trying not to touch her cast. ‘Don’t scare me like that again, you’re so precious.’ Ben gestures for me to come forward. I kiss Emily on the cheek and hold her hand, realising how much I need to talk to Ben. In front of me are two people I care about deeply. They have become my family.
*
Back on the children’s ward it’s quiet, the lights dimmed and visiting hours over. Emily is settled in bed, having her blood pressure and temperature taken. She’s exhausted, drifting in and out of sleep.
‘Don’t hang around,’ Ben says to me. ‘You must be tired.’
‘What are you going to do?’
‘Stay here. They said I could sleep on the chair.’ He gestures to the uncomfortable bright-blue plastic thing next to the bed.
I gather my jacket and handbag, still desperately wishing I could say something to Ben about the other night, but …
‘I’ll walk you to the lift,’ he says.
The hospital corridor is eerily quiet, the lifts at the far end of the building. ‘She called you Daddy,’ I say.
I can see pride in his eyes. ‘All I want is for her to feel loved. I know what it’s like not having a father, and then losing her mum so suddenly. She hasn’t had the easiest of starts,’ he says, putting it lightly.
‘Grace would be so proud of you both, you know.’
‘Thank you. And thank you for being here.’
I inhale deeply, my pace slowing down as I pluck up the courage to say, ‘I know now probably isn’t the best time to talk …’
‘Let’s not.’
‘I’m so sorry, Ben, about …’
‘You don’t need to explain.’
‘Yes. Yes I do. What you said that night, it came as a shock.’
He raises an eyebrow. ‘A rude shock.’
We both smile for the first time that evening. ‘What you said, it must have taken courage, but …’ We both stop walking, the lifts getting too close.
‘No more buts, Polly.’
‘But I need to say this.’ We continue to walk on slowly. ‘I do care about you.’
He stares ahead. ‘But you want to be just friends. I understand.’
‘I don’t know. All I do know is my life wouldn’t be half as happy if you weren’t in it. I feel …’ I shrug, trying to understand my feelings for him. ‘The thing is, I haven’t wanted to look at you in that way.’ I think back to our first evening together, when I taught him how to plait Emily’s hair. ‘There was so much going on with you looking after Emily and grieving for Grace, I didn’t think …’
‘Nor did I. I didn’t plan to feel this way, you can’t plan falling in love or making it fit into your diary.’
I nod. ‘I haven’t had such a close friendship in years, well, ever,’ I admit. ‘What we have is special and I want to keep it safe.’
We reach the lifts and Ben gently turns me towards him. ‘I have an idea.’
‘Go on.’
‘Why don’t we go out on
a few dates without the children? Give us a chance, Polly. I’ll keep my hands off, they’ll stay firmly in my pockets, but maybe you’ll see me in a different way, maybe you might grow to love me.’
‘I don’t think it’ll be hard.’
‘Thank you for being with me tonight,’ he says again.
‘I wouldn’t have wanted to be anywhere else.’
He touches my cheek, the palm of his hand warm against my skin. ‘I’d better go. See how Emily is.’
‘Be careful of that blue chair,’ I warn him, since I’d been playing with it while Ben had been talking to the anaesthetist. ‘It snaps back into the upright position when you’re least expecting it. If I were you, I’d sleep on the empty bed next door.’
‘Thanks for the tip.’
I’m about to enter the lift when I turn back to him. ‘When did you know, Ben?’
His face softens. ‘Camping. When we danced in the mud.’
He leans forward, kissing me gently on the lips. I don’t pull away. ‘Now go,’ he says. I inch backwards into the lift, smiling at him as I press the down button. Ben stands there, waiting, as the doors shut.
*
As I head up the stairs to my flat, a wave of excitement overtakes exhaustion. I feel hope in my stride. I want to give us a chance. I think of Janey and how much has happened during her honeymoon. I can’t wait to talk to her when she gets back. My mind returns to Ben again. I imagine him sitting on the ugly blue chair, trying to get some sleep. Emily has been unlucky in so many ways, my heart breaks for her, but she’s also won the lottery with him.
I turn the key in the lock and enter the hallway, taking my jacket off. Louis’s bedroom door is slightly ajar, the lights off. Quietly I poke my head round the door and see my boy all curled up, in the shape of a kidney bean, looking so peaceful. Aunt Viv approaches and ushers me into the kitchen. I plonk my handbag on to the barstool. ‘I didn’t think I’d be this late,’ I say. ‘I’m so sorry if I’ve kept you up.’
‘Don’t worry. Polly …’
I put the kettle on. ‘Emily’s fine. The op went well.’
‘Good.’
I reach for the tin of herbal teas. ‘Want one?’
‘No. I’m all right.’
‘Ben’s sleeping at the hospital. Oh, Aunt Viv, it was so emotional, she called him Dad for the first time.’ I turn round to face her. ‘And then after all the drama we managed to talk. We were walking to the lifts …’ I stop, noticing Aunt Viv looks pale and distracted. ‘Are you OK?’
‘I’m not sure,’ she says, before sitting down on the other barstool. ‘Sit down, Polly.’
Nervous, I obey her.
‘He called.’
‘Who called?’
‘Matthew. Somehow he tracked you down.’
‘Matthew,’ I repeat, suddenly remembering my mobile ringing earlier in hospital. Those strange missed calls. The times I didn’t recognise the number. The silence on the other end. I pace the room. ‘Did you speak to him?’
She shakes her head. ‘He left a message on your machine. I almost deleted it.’
I walk over to the answer machine in the corner of the kitchen and press ‘Play’.
‘Polly, it’s me.’
I shiver at the familiarity of his voice.
‘I know it’s been a long time, but don’t hang up, give me a chance to explain. I’ve been trying to pluck up the courage to talk to you for a long time, but each time I called you, I lost my nerve. I mean why would you want anything to do with me ever again? But we need to talk. There are things I need to say, sorry most importantly, and that I’ve changed. Can we meet?’ He clears his throat. ‘I want to see my son. I want to get to know Louis.’
‘Men like him never change,’ Aunt Viv says, unable to keep the loathing out of her voice.
I sit down again, trying to get my head round it. Why now? Why wait nearly four years?
‘What are you going to do?’ Aunt Viv is saying. ‘If I were you I’d call him, say you don’t want to meet, say …’ Soon Aunt Viv is background noise. I’m seeing us in the flat the day I walked out. I’m seeing the other side of me, the me that did nothing but drink, the me that loved Louis but was a useless mum who put her son in danger. I have changed. Is it possible Matt has too?
‘We were given a second chance,’ I mutter, still deep in thought.
‘That’s different.’
‘Is it? Why?’
‘It just is. Polly, don’t forget what he did to you, and Louis.’
‘I won’t, but …’
‘And what about Ben?’
‘But what about Louis?’ I raise my voice for the first time. ‘When he’s older, and he asks more questions about his dad, which he will, he’s already asking them now, how can I lie to him?’
‘You tell him the truth.’
‘How can I tell him that his father did try to get in touch but I wouldn’t see him, I wouldn’t give him a second chance? He’s the one that loses out. It’s not about me or you, it’s about my son.’
‘All I care about is you, Polly. That man has no rights. He gave those up the day he hit you,’ she says, a tremble in her voice. ‘How can you even think of seeing him?’
I press my head into my hands. ‘I’m not making any decision right now.’
‘You can’t let him back into your life,’ she stresses again. ‘You’ve come so far and now you have a real chance of happiness with Ben.’
‘It’s not that simple! You’re saying I just ignore him and he goes away and Louis never sees his dad again. Aunt Viv, you don’t have children …’ The moment I say it I want to take it back. She looks as if I’ve plunged a thorn in her weak side. ‘I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean, oh, Aunt Viv, I’m so sorry.’ I reach out to her. ‘But it’s not black and white. Aren’t we being hypocritical? We ask for forgiveness, look at the people we hurt, but the moment someone hurts us, we turn our backs on them.’
‘Sometimes we need to protect ourselves. I’ve never seen you this happy. I couldn’t bear it if that man comes back and ruins everything.’
‘I won’t let him. I’m stronger. I’m not the same Polly.’
*
That night I sit in my bedroom rocking chair, questions filling my head until I can no longer think straight. One minute I’m with Ben. I feel his lips on mine, can see his face at the lift doors, but then his face becomes Matthew’s. I fantasise about him holding Louis’s hand in the park. I know there’s a void in his life; as much as we love one another there is a vital piece of the jigsaw missing. What if he really has turned himself around? I think of those times when he must have called me and then hung up. How did he get my number? Has he been doing it to scare me? Or did he really lose his nerve? Is it possible he feels remorse? I pick up my mobile, call my counsellor, Stephanie, praying she’ll answer. She says she’s always on the end of the line in case of an emergency. When she picks up, she sounds sleepy.
‘Polly?’
‘I’m so sorry if I woke you, I didn’t know who else to turn to, who can be objective,’ I say, knowing Neve would be in Aunt Viv’s camp. Stephanie tells me to slow down and tell her what it is worrying me.
‘Doesn’t he deserve a hearing, at least?’ I ask, waiting for her to say something, anything.
‘Listen to your gut,’ she says finally. ‘What is it telling you to do?’
‘Sometimes I just wish you’d give me the bloody answer.’
‘I don’t have the answers, Polly.’
36
2008
Aunt Viv drops me off outside a flat on Cambridge Gardens, Ladbroke Grove. She’s borrowed Jean’s battered old car. I turn to look at Louis, sitting on the backseat, none the wiser that his mum’s messed up and off to see a shrink.
I feel like a schoolchild as Aunt Viv tells me she’ll pick me up in an hour and a half. As I head towards the front door I sense her gaze, making sure I don’t change my mind and run off. When Stephanie Green opens the door, I hear the sound of the engine, a car driving
away.
Stephanie Green is small, with pale skin and chestnut brown hair, strands tucked neatly behind both ears. She wears simple clothes and flat shoes, barely any make-up or jewellery. She leads me up a flight of stairs and gestures to a sofa covered with a checked throw and a coffee table stacked with a few glossy magazines, along with a bottle of Evian water and a couple of glasses. ‘Make yourself comfortable, I won’t be long.’
Alone, I fidget with the strap of my handbag, wondering what she’s going to ask me. My mind drifts to Matt. Would I be here if we were still together? Was I wrong to walk out on him when he’s about to face bankruptcy? Should I have understood why he lashed out at me? He was under huge pressure and I certainly didn’t help. I was a handicap. I’m sure he didn’t mean to hurt me. It was the worry and stress and … I curl my hand into a fist, trying to stamp out that persistent voice in my head as Stephanie calls me into her room.
*
‘Tell me about yourself, Polly,’ Stephanie asks, sitting comfortably in her black chair.
A big fat blank comes to mind. ‘I’m fine.’
She nods.
‘I have a son, Louis. I used to be a teacher.’
She asks me about my childhood.
Again nothing much comes to mind. ‘It was fine. My parents are still together.’
‘Do you have siblings?’
‘Hugo.’
‘What’s your relationship like with him?
‘We’re close.’
‘How are you feeling right this moment?’
I hunch my shoulders. ‘Fine.’
‘Can you be more specific?’
‘I’m good.’
‘Your aunt was keen I see you. Can you think why she might be concerned about you?’
Silence.
‘I understand this is hard, Polly.’ She gives me time.
I look out of the window. ‘I’ve been drinking a lot. I’m not now.’
‘How much were you drinking?’
I was expecting this question. I halve it and don’t include the vodka. ‘About a bottle of wine a night, sometimes less.’
‘And what did that do for you?’ Her expression remains neutral.
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