Can't Get You Out of My Head

by Sue Shepherd

‘I remember when she went with Winnie to see a colour therapist, or something like that, the silly woman told her she was a “Spring Person” and must always wear pale colours. She was not happy about that.’

  ‘What was it she said?’ Lisa asked.

  ‘She said, I’m not a bloody watercolour painting and I refuse to be dressed like a baby in pale blue from head to foot.’

  ‘Daft of Winnie to have asked her to go really!’

  ‘Yes. She was never going to change her choice of outfits. She looked brilliant in bold colours.’ Glancing at the photo, Beth continued, ‘I prefer to think of her like this, rather than …you know?’ For one awful second, she was reminded of how Nanna had looked in the hospital, just after she’d passed away. Frail and as if she were made of wax. ‘I try not to remember her that way. I like to picture her just like this.’

  ‘Imagine if she was alive today, you know what she’d say, don’t you?’

  ‘Is this a dig about me still being with James?’

  ‘NO.’

  ‘Are you sure?’

  ‘Yes. I wasn’t going to mention him at all.’

  Beth sighed. ‘To be honest, she would be mad as hell that I’m still with him. She’d probably give me a right telling off.’

  ‘Maybe. But it wasn’t that she didn’t like him. It was just ‒’

  ‘Oh, don’t worry, I know what it was. I’ve never been more ashamed than the day I had to admit to her all her money was gone.’

  ‘She certainly had the measure of him. She tried to warn you not to let him get his hands on it.’

  ‘Yes, she did.’ With a shiver, Beth got to her feet. Wrapping her coat around her, she began slowly making her way around the garden, reading the plaques as she went.

  ‘I’m sure that’s why she left her house to Dad, you know?’

  ‘Why wouldn’t she leave it to him?’ Beth asked. ‘He’s her only son.’

  ‘I know … but …’

  ‘Look, this man died the same day as Nanna.’ Beth pointed to a faded plaque. ‘The same day, but nearly fifty years earlier. Time’s funny, isn’t it? They both have the same date of remembrance, 28th February. It was the last day for both of them.’ Returning to Lisa’s comment, she asked, ‘Tell me, then, why wouldn’t she leave her house to Dad?’

  ‘He already has a house. A nice house. I think she should’ve left it to you.’

  ‘But I have a house too.’

  ‘Yeah, but … yours is a piddly little thing. Nanna’s house would be way better for you.’

  ‘Well, it was up to her who she left it to.’

  ‘Of course. I just think … well, I think she didn’t want James to have it. I’m sure if you’d not been with him, she’d have left it to you.’

  ‘Maybe. I can tell you one thing, though, I’m glad she didn’t leave it to us. James would be taking out extra mortgages on it left, right and centre. It would break my heart if we lost Nanna’s house. At least now Dad owns it, it’s safe.’

  ‘And the people who are renting it seem nice.’

  ‘They are.’

  ‘James was pissed off. Wasn’t he?’

  ‘You mean when we found out she’d left us nothing?’

  ‘Yeah. The idiot was absolutely fuming.’

  ‘I suppose he was. It was too soon after Nanna died, I don’t think I took it all in.’ Beth tried to think back to the day they’d read the will, but almost all that time was shrouded in grief.

  ‘You must remember the annoying little hissy fit he had when you got back home. All his protests that she ought to have left you something.’

  Beth shrugged. ‘Now you say it, I do remember. But I didn’t care at that point. I was just desperately sad that we’d lost Nanna.’

  ‘Plus of course you were still heartbroken, because “Dickhead” had stolen the money.’

  ‘Yes, I was. I should’ve taken your advice and left him then.’

  Lisa gave a hollow laugh. ‘Of course you should. There was nothing left of your marriage. The minute he took that four grand, he was essentially saying “divorce me”. But you didn’t.’

  ‘I didn’t have the strength. You don’t know how I felt.’

  ‘I felt it too. I missed her as well.’

  ‘You’re right. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t assume that because you don’t taste and hear things the way I do, that you feel emotions less too.’

  ‘Look, it’s not a competition to see who loved her more. I know you were the apple of her eye. And I know she didn’t even know of my existence until just before she died. But I did grieve for her, I still do.’

  ‘I’m just trying to explain why I couldn’t walk out on James back then. Mum and Dad were upset. We were all pulling together as a family, it just seemed like the wrong time to stand up and announce – I’m leaving my husband!’

  ‘And now?’

  ‘What?’

  ‘It’s a year since she died.’

  ‘That’s why we’re here, isn’t it?’

  ‘What I mean is, why not leave him now?’

  ‘The moment has passed. The anger that gripped me that day when I realised what he’d done, it’s … well, it’s not there any more.’

  ‘Do you love him?’

  ‘I feel sorry for him.’

  ‘For goodness’ sake, that’s no basis for a marriage.’

  ‘I honestly think, if I left him, he’d be dead in a year. He needs me to keep him out of trouble.’

  ‘How can you do that, when he’s so fucking secretive?’

  ‘Lisa don’t swear here, not when we’re surrounded by the dead.’

  ‘What the hell do they care?’

  ‘I don’t know. It just seems disrespectful.’

  ‘OK, fine. But tell me, how can you keep him out of trouble when he’s sneaking around behind your back?’

  ‘I do my best. I try to stop him gambling as much as possible.’

  ‘He’s a gambler, you will never stop him.’

  ‘Well, I have to at least attempt to keep him from harm.’

  ‘And what about a baby? Can you live your whole life without children?’

  Beth stopped by a bench and sat down. Rubbing her forehead, she replied, ‘We’re still trying. You know we are. We tried this morning before he headed off to work on the coast.’

  ‘Oh yes, boring, clockwork sex, every time your temperature goes up or down or whatever the stupid rules are.’

  ‘According to my chart, today was a very good day to have sex.’

  ‘How romantic.’

  ‘And he’ll be gone for two nights, it made sense. I don’t see the harm in trying. It’s better than giving up.’

  ‘Can you hear yourself? Sometimes I wonder which one of us is living the half life.’

  ‘All right, enough now. Can’t you tell I’m getting a headache?’ Standing, Beth continued her journey around the Garden of Roses.

  ‘You know, I don’t really experience pain the way you do. By the time it reaches me, back here, it’s very faint.’

  ‘That would explain why you always wanted me to drink tequila. No hangover for you.’

  ‘It’s hardly compensation for all the things I miss out on, is it?’ Lisa replied, petulantly.

  ‘No. You’re right.’ Beth instantly felt guilty again.

  With a sigh, Lisa asked, ‘Anyway, can we just go back and look at Nanna’s rose bush once more, before we head off?’

  Keen to oblige, Beth agreed. ‘Of course. Just … please, remember my headache, no more nagging?’

  ‘I never nag.’ Lisa sounded wounded.

  ‘You never do anything but.’

  ‘Don’t be daft.’

  ‘By the way, what would she have said?’

  ‘Who?’

  ‘Nanna. You said, “Imagine if she were alive today, you know what she’d say, don’t you?” But I don’t know.’

  ‘That was ages ago, you idiot.’

  ‘Still, tell me? What would she say?’

  ‘She’d say we all n
eed to get over it. It’s been a year now. She’d say life is for the living. And she’d say we ought to stop moping around in this friggin’ cold Rose Garden and go to the pub.’

  Sixty-two

  They arrived back to an empty house. In previous years, Beth had hated it when James had to work away. She understood there wasn’t always going to be building work locally, and she appreciated the fact the boss offered him work ahead of some of the others, due to his loyalty. But back then, when things were different, she missed her husband terribly, and wished he could be at home. Not now though. Now she enjoyed the times he was picked up by one of the lads, and whisked away in the van. He could be gone for anything up to four nights, and she found those times far more peaceful. If he gambled whilst he was away, she knew nothing of it. She could remain at home, blissfully unaware. It was the equivalent of sticking her fingers in her ears and singing ‘La, la, la.’

  She made herself a milky drink, and popped on her pyjamas and fleecy dressing gown. A message popped up on her phone from Michelle, it said she was thinking of Nanna on the anniversary of her death, and hoping Beth was OK. She sent lots of love from Ricky, Solomon, Ava and little Leo, the latest, and final, edition to their family.

  ‘Bless her for thinking of me.’

  ‘Yes, she seems to be making up for her mistake.’

  Flicking on the TV, Beth marvelled at the fact that, as James wasn’t there, she could watch whatever the hell she liked.

  ‘Another thrilling night ahead! I thought I made it clear Nanna would’ve preferred the pub.’

  ‘Sorry, Lisa, I know I bore you.’

  ‘Me, bored? Whatever gave you that idea?’

  ‘Would you like to choose what we watch? Would that help?’

  ‘Not particularly. But I guess if it was up to me, I’d choose a horror film.’

  ‘Oh no, anything but that.’

  ‘You said I could choose.’

  ‘Yes, but not a horror, not when James is away.’

  ‘Oh fine. Don’t bother, you choose.’

  ‘There’s a romcom starting in half an hour.’

  ‘Oh, bloody marvellous. Romcoms are crap.’

  Beth switched the TV off. ‘Blimey, it’s worse than trying to reach a compromise with James.’

  ‘I wonder how we would’ve got on if I’d lived.’

  ‘If we’d have been separate, you mean?’

  ‘Yeah …’ Lisa paused. ‘You know, just regular twins.’

  Beth gave it some thought. ‘I think I would’ve liked you.’

  ‘Me too.’

  ‘I would definitely have preferred it.’

  ‘Not as much as I would!’

  ‘Sorry, Lisa.’

  ‘I would have liked to have known Mum and Dad … and Nanna, of course.’

  Beth began to feel uncomfortable. As always, when Lisa talked about how bad her life was, Beth blamed herself. Even though saving Lisa and offering to share her life had been a completely instinctive decision, made when she was barely conscious, she couldn’t help thinking she had trapped her sister. Whenever Lisa went into self-pity mode, Beth went into self-reproach mode. There was simply no stopping the cycle.

  She decided the best plan of action was to change the subject. Switching back to Nanna, she said, ‘I can’t believe there’s going to be no more Hogmanay for Nanna.’

  ‘I know. Fucking Grim Reaper!’

  They were both lost in thought.

  ‘Right, well, if we can’t agree on what to watch,’ Beth got up from the sofa, ‘I’m going to head off to bed. I’ll read or something.’

  ‘Not more romcoms.’

  ‘Listen, ideally, I’d like to just go to sleep. But you know as well as I do, I never sleep well.’

  ‘And that’s my fault, is it?’

  ‘Yes, it is.’

  ‘How the hell …?’

  ‘I’ve spent most of my adult life not drinking in case I fall into a deep sleep and you come out and reap havoc. Loads of times, when we were younger, I was aware of you trying to sneak out, and I had to wake myself up. I’ve never slept deeply, and it’s all because of you!’

  ‘Well, pardon me.’

  ‘You can’t blame me for being just a tad annoyed. I mean, if I could trust you, I could’ve had years of lovely sleep.’

  ‘I don’t even remember the last time I tried to get out. There’s no point any more. Just go to sleep. It’ll be fine.’

  ‘It’s too late now. Years of not allowing yourself to sleep can’t be undone with one “you can trust me now”.’

  ‘What about those sleeping pills?’

  ‘The ones Mum gave me?’

  ‘Yeah.’

  ‘I don’t know, they were meant for Dad. When he was struggling, straight after Nanna died.’

  ‘So? Mum gave you a few, didn’t she?’

  ‘Yes, but I don’t think it’s right to take someone else’s medication.’

  ‘Mum insisted they would be fine for you. Take a couple. Have a good sleep.’

  ‘But …’

  ‘What do you think I’m going to do? Steal your stupid pink car, which, by the way, I can’t drive, whizz off to the coast, and sleep with your husband?’

  ‘Not the car bit, but sleeping with James … maybe.’

  ‘Been there, done that!’

  ‘I don’t need reminding!’

  ‘And that was back when he was hot. Extremely hot, actually. I wouldn’t sleep with him now if you paid me. Besides, I’ve seen the kind of boring sex you guys have these days. I’m not into baby-making.’

  ‘Shut up, Lisa. I don’t like the thought of you watching us and I definitely don’t need you reminiscing about how hot James used to be.’

  ‘I’m just offering you a good night’s sleep, that’s all. No drama. No sneaking out. I’ll probably just go to sleep too.’

  ‘You promise?’

  ‘Yes. Take them. It’s been a tough day.’

  Beth made her way to the bathroom and opened the medicine cabinet. Fishing out the sleeping tablets Pat had given her almost a year before, she paused.

  ‘What’s the matter now?’

  ‘I was just thinking about the day I discovered James had taken the money from the bathroom cupboard.’

  ‘Bastard!’

  ‘What am I doing still with him?’

  ‘Well, one, you’re an idiot. And two, you’ve lost all your confidence. You know you should’ve left, and started again, but thanks to him wearing you down over the years, you’re just not capable of doing it.’

  ‘Blimey, tell it like it is.’

  ‘Charlie would never treat you this way.’

  ‘Where did he come from?’

  ‘I often think of him. Don’t you?’

  Taking a second to consider, Beth replied, ‘I do think of him, yes. I wanted to see him when Nanna died. I thought it would be wonderful to tell him how much pain I was in, and to have him wrap his stupid great arms around me.’

  ‘So why didn’t you contact him, then?’

  ‘He’ll have moved on. I blew that one, big time.’

  ‘So that’s it. We’re just going to give up on him?’

  ‘I’m married to James, he needs me.’

  ‘But ‒’

  ‘Yes, I know what you’re going to say – James has secrets. James isn’t good for me. James betrayed me. But the fact is, I’m still married to him, and you reminding me what an amazing guy Charlie is, is just … well, it’s not helping!’ With that, Beth popped two sleeping pills under her tongue. Sticking her head under the tap, she turned it on and gulped down some water. ‘Just leave it now. For goodness’ sake. Please. Just let me sleep!’

  Sixty-three

  ‘What have I done to deserve this, I wonder?’ James took in the sight before him.

  Beth rushed to take his jacket and propelled him towards the kitchen table. ‘Welcome, sir, dinner’s nearly ready.’

  James remained clueless. ‘Seriously, why are we eating at the table? And, more i
mportantly, what is that delicious smell? Could it be one of your lasagnes?’

  ‘It is indeed a homemade lasagne. Aren’t you a lucky man?’

  ‘I guess I am.’ He seemed slightly on the defensive. Too many times over the years he’d come home to an angry wife with a face like a slapped arse. She had the right to look that way, he knew that, but still, with all this kindness, she was really throwing him a curveball. He sat, as directed, and took a large gulp of the wine she’d poured for him.

  She joined him at the table, a glass of tap water in her hand. ‘Dinner will be a couple of minutes. I timed it well.’

  ‘Yes. You did. But …’

  ‘Do you remember when we made love the morning you headed off to work on that posh woman’s extension in Kent?’

  James laughed. ‘Not especially. Sorry, but I don’t note every single time, the way you do.’

  ‘It was the anniversary of the day Nanna died. We made love, and then you went away for a few days.’

  ‘Um … yeah. I think so.’ It was clear he was pretending to remember, but she didn’t mind.

  ‘Well, it would seem …’ she produced a pregnancy test from behind her back, and placed it on the table in front of her husband, ‘that we made a baby that day!’ She looked down at the test. It clearly displayed two dark blue lines. How proud was Beth of those two lines?

  ‘We … I … you’re kidding?’

  ‘The test doesn’t lie.’

  ‘But … my sperm …’

  ‘It only takes one! Apparently one of your lads found his way home.’

  ‘Bloody hell fire!’

  ‘I knew it was worth it, to keep trying, I mean. I knew we shouldn’t give up.’

  James jumped to his feet and grabbed Beth in a hug. ‘I can’t believe this is happening.’

  ‘Listen, there’s something else I need to say.’

  ‘Oh, here it comes.’

  ‘No, it’s fine. It’s not a lecture. I promise.’

  He seemed relieved. ‘Go on?’

  ‘This is a fresh start for us. We just need this little one to stay put.’ She swallowed hard, already in love with their baby, the thought of more heartache scared the life out of her.

  ‘It will, sweetheart. I’m sure of it.’

  ‘Right, well, I want this to be a new beginning for us. You’re going to go to your GA meetings regularly. You’re not going to let me down, and I … well, I’m going to finally forgive you for taking Nanna’s money.’