What Milo Saw

by Virginia MacGregor

  A pause.

  ‘I’m going to London.’

  ‘What do you mean, you’re going to London?’

  ‘I’m hitch-hiking.’

  Hitch-hiking was one of the most dangerous ways to get to places, that’s what Mrs Harris said. It was like inviting a stranger to bundle you into his car and kidnap you.

  ‘What are you doing to do in London?’

  ‘When MailOrderBrideMan came back and I didn’t have a place to stay any more, a light bulb went on.’

  ‘What do you mean, a light bulb?’

  Milo heard another lorry rattle past. He hoped that Tripi wasn’t standing too close to the motorway.

  ‘I’ve been wishing that Ayishah will come here and find me, but that’s not going to happen, is it, Milo? She’s twelve years old. How would she get to England on her own? I’ve got to go back to Syria to find her. If I go to London I can earn money faster for the plane ticket.’

  Looking up into the sky Milo saw a plane, its nose angled up at the clouds as it made its ascent.

  All the bits of his life were slipping away. He couldn’t keep hold of anything good, could he? Not Dad, not Gran, not Hamlet and now Tripi was leaving too.

  ‘But what if you don’t find her? What if you starve or get sick? What if you’re blown up?’ Milo thought about the pictures he’d seen on Clouds’s telly last night. A mother carrying a boy Milo’s age, a bullet wound in his chest.

  ‘That doesn’t matter, Milo, all I know is that I shouldn’t be here, I should be with Ayishah.’

  ‘Please, Tripi, please come back so we can talk.’ Milo’s brain whirred. He had to think of a good reason to change Tripi’s mind. ‘Clouds said he could help. He saw Ayishah on the news.’ He gulped down the lie.

  ‘Ayishah?’ Tripi’s voice went quiet. ‘He saw Ayishah?’

  Milo took a deep breath. ‘He watches the news all the time. I showed him the copy of Ayishah’s photo.’ Milo screwed shut his eyes and opened them again. The numbers on the keypad blurred. ‘If you come back, we’ll help you find her.’

  Milo had kept secrets before, like about sneaking Hamlet up to Gran’s room when Mum thought he was still in the garage, like about failing his maths and English exams. But this was the first time he’d said a big, out-loud lie.

  ‘Okay,’ said Tripi. ‘Okay. But if we do not find her, I am leaving, I am going back to Syria.’

  ‘We’ll find her. I promise.’

  52

  SANDY

  ‘M-Milo? Where’s Milo?’ Lou called out.

  Sandy woke up with a start and looked across the room. Lou speaking and craning her neck, the left side of her face sunk lower than the right, her arm collapsed under her as she tried to prop herself up. She’d had a few strokes in the past, and the scars they’d left on her body and on her face came to the surface when she was tired or anxious.

  Milo was right, she’d gone downhill since she was here, one more item to add to the list of Sandy’s failures.

  Sandy stood up from the armchair by the window.

  ‘Lou, you need to rest.’

  ‘Where’s M-Milo…?’

  ‘It’s okay, Lou.’

  ‘W-who are you?’ Lou’s face creased.

  ‘It’s me, Sandy.’

  ‘Who’s Sandy?’

  Good question. Sandy took a breath. ‘I’m Milo’s mum.’

  ‘Angela?’

  Sandy felt a stab at Lou confusing her for Andy’s Tart. Before they left for Abu Dhabi, Andy had arranged a meeting between Angela and Lou at The Cup Half Full; Sandy had hoped that she’d been slotted into the lost property department of Lou’s brain.

  ‘No, it’s me, Sandy.’

  ‘Where’s Milo?’

  ‘Al found him wandering the high street and took him home.’

  Lou smiled weakly and closed her eyes. ‘I.’ She took a breath. ‘I thought y-you’d like Alasdair.’ Her voice was small and slurred and she jolted over her words, but it was coming back, that old muscle gaining strength with every word. ‘L-lovely little Alasdair, swimming with me in the sea, never afraid of the cold. He reminds me of Milo.’

  After he moved south, Andy had lost touch with his relatives in Scotland. His parents came down twice, once for the wedding and once when Milo was born, but then the journey got too much for them and Andy never quite found the time to drive up. Anyway, it was Lou who’d brought him up, his parents too busy working, living their own lives in Glasgow. They’d never wanted children, his mother had let slip once. I don’t owe them anything, Andy had said whenever Sandy suggested a visit.

  Lou turned her head to the clock on the wall. ‘H-how long have I been asleep?’

  Sandy looked out of the window at the darkening sky, at the Christmas lights blinking over the high street. ‘You’ve been asleep for most of the day.’

  Her face clouded over again. ‘W-where am I?’

  One moment Lou was here, her brain in the present, and then, all of a sudden, it slipped.

  ‘You gave us a fright, Lou. When Milo left, your heart went into overdrive – I had to persuade Nurse Thornhill to get the doctor in, he’ll be coming back later.’

  Tripi and Milo had been right about Nurse Thornhill. She’d come close to suggesting that Lou had over-exerted herself on purpose like an attention-seeking child. What made someone like her become a nurse?

  ‘Where’s H-Hamlet?’ asked Lou. Her eyes welled up. ‘Where’s little Hamlet?’ She puckered her lips and made some small sounds as though calling a cat. ‘Hamlet?’ she called.

  ‘God knows where Hamlet is, Lou. He hasn’t been seen since this morning, looks like he couldn’t get out of here fast enough. I don’t blame him.’

  ‘It’s not so bad. The roof’s started leaking and I need to fix the front steps, they’re rotting away – the sea can be vicious, you know. Petros could help me, don’t you think? Such a practical man. No, it’s not so bad.’

  ‘You’re here, Lou, at Forget Me Not. And it is so bad, Lou. Milo told me what he saw. If I’d have known…’ Sandy scratched at a raw bit of skin on her throat. The rash used to come and go, but now it looked like it was here to stay. ‘To rely on a child to notice that something’s wrong.’

  ‘Milo… always… always sees things.’

  Sandy came over to sit on the bed next to Lou. ‘I’m sorry.’ She looked around the room. ‘I’m sorry about all this.’

  Lou lifted her hand and placed it over Sandy’s fingers. Her face settled into the present.

  ‘I shouldn’t have let you come here.’

  ‘The fire…’ Lou started. ‘You had to… the kitchen.’ Her cheeks flushed pink. How much did she remember of that day?

  Using words on one side and paper and pen on the other, they’d discussed it. That it was time for Lou to move out. That Milo could no longer carry the burden of looking after her. But Sandy hadn’t expected Lou to take it into her own hands, to set fire to the kitchen to give her a reason to move out. They could have made a plan, something safer.

  Lou stroked the edge of Sandy’s green fleece. ‘You’re wearing a uniform?’

  ‘I was meant to be at the Co-op today, my second day at the tills. I imagine they’ll sack me for not turning up.’

  ‘The Co-op?’

  Sandy nodded. ‘It’s just for now, until I get back on my feet.’ She laughed. ‘I can hear the beeping from that stupid scanner in my sleep. I keep thinking it’s the alarm clock.’

  ‘I have some m-money…’ She reached a clumsy hand into her pocket as though looking for loose change. ‘Enough m-money…’

  Sandy took hold of Lou’s hand and stilled it.

  ‘I have to learn to stand on my own two feet, isn’t that what you always told me, Lou? I’ve spent ten years taking money from Andy, I’m not going to spend the next ten taking money from his Gran. I’ll find another job.’

  Sandy didn’t have many principles, not ones she stuck to, anyway, but taking Lou’s money? She’d never do that. After decades of being b
attered by the Atlantic, Lou hadn’t been able to give her cottage away, let alone sell it. In the end, they’d demolished it to make room for some beach huts, the cost of the land barely covering Andy’s loft conversion. Sandy had resented it at first, wondered why Lou couldn’t be looked after by her own children, but then she’d seen it, how much the old lady loved Milo, how when they were introduced it was more like a reunion than a first meeting. And family didn’t fall into neat lines, she understood that now.

  Anyway, whatever Lou had left wouldn’t add up to more than a few pennies, some pocket money for Milo. No, Sandy wouldn’t touch it.

  ‘Andrew?’ asked Lou. ‘He has m-money…’ She shook her head. ‘He was always saving as a boy, saving pennies in the jam jar, pennies for sweets…’

  Sandy looked at the bare bulb hanging from the ceiling. With the fees they were charging, you’d have thought Forget Me Not could afford lampshades. She should have told Andy that Lou wasn’t living at home any more, maybe he’d have checked the place out.

  ‘He’s got a new baby to think of and anyway, it’s down to me now. I’m going to focus on the things that matter, like making sure Milo’s happy and that you’re looked after. When you’re strong enough we’ll get you out of here, Lou, move you to a nice place.’ She looked back at Lou’s small hand covering her fingers. ‘Oh, and it turns out I might have a wedding to organise?’

  Lou’s eyes brightened and then suddenly dimmed again.

  ‘Milo?’ she began.

  ‘Milo will come round. Isn’t that one of life’s lessons? That we have to share the people we love?’

  ‘It w-wasn’t your fault, Sandy.’ Lou stroked her hand. ‘Andrew… he leaves… h-he’s always leaving…’

  Sandy pressed her thumb into the corner of one eye, then the other, and tilted her head up to reverse the flow of tears. ‘So, do you think you’ll convince Petros to give up that cap of his?’

  Lou let out a bubble of laughter. ‘I-I’ll try.’ Then she patted her head, her hair matted from sleep, from not being washed.

  Back home, Milo had bathed Gran, washed and blow-dried her hair. Sandy had let him do too much.

  ‘He’s very fond of you,’ Sandy said. ‘Tripi had to drag him back to his room.’

  ‘Tripi?’ Lou’s face lit up.

  ‘Yes, Tripi. He turned up late for his shift, but he’s here.’

  ‘B-but h-he left. He said g-goodbye.’

  Sandy felt the rash heat up along her throat. Tripi had planned to leave?

  Nurse Thornhill had threatened to sack him, but Tripi had taken it, standing there listening to her, no sign of anger or irritation on his face. Sandy had wanted to step in and defend him, to tell Nurse Thornhill that she had no right to talk to him like that. That Tripi was her… her what? Her friend? The man who’d been kind to her son? The first man since Andy had left who’d made her feel like maybe, under all those flabby rolls of flesh, she was still a woman?

  Nurse Thornhill must have lost someone, been left, maybe like Sandy, and then turned bitter. Sandy refused to let that happen to her: she’d get over Andy. She’d fall in love again.

  She blinked away the thought. ‘Tripi’s gathering evidence, as instructed by Milo. I imagine you’ve heard about this film they’re making?’

  Lou nodded and her eyes went far away. ‘Alasdair’s always c-clicking away on his camera. Click, click, click. D-dropped it in the sea once, cried for days.’

  ‘Milo will fill you in tomorrow. I can’t believe I’m letting a nine-year-old take on a nursing home.’ Sandy laughed. ‘But then again, perhaps it takes a nine-year-old to have the courage…’ Sandy stood up. ‘I’d better get home. Make sure he’s okay.’

  ‘Petros?’ Her eyes suddenly wild.

  ‘What is it, Lou?’

  ‘A d-debt? A debt? What did she mean? Tell him not to worry, tell him that I’ll take care of it, that w-when we’re… when we’re…’

  ‘When you’re married, Lou?’

  Lou nodded and Sandy noticed that pink glow pushing up into Lou’s cheeks again.

  ‘Take him home… with you and M-Milo. Take P-Petros home.’

  ‘If that’s what you want, Lou.’ Sandy picked up her bag and her coat and walked to the door.

  ‘Sandy?’ Lou’s hands trembled, the left side of her face joining the rhythm until her whole body shook. ‘It’s such a long time to wait for him.’ She looked out of the window. ‘I’m not… I’m not sure I’ll make it. I mean, until Christmas.’

  53

  TRIPI

  On his break, Tripi went down the corridor to visit Old Mrs Moon and to check that she was okay. She got upset when Milo left, Nurse Heidi had told him. We thought that maybe she had a fit, she’s had a few in the past, but the doctor said she’s just over-tired. She’ll be okay. Nurse Heidi smiled. She’s enjoying having her voice back.

  At first, Tripi didn’t understand the word. He thought that, in this country, fit meant beautiful, like Lovely Sandy with her big smile and her soft skin. But Nurse Heidi said it like it was a noun, A Fit, that it was when the body fought against the mind.

  Thinking of what the word meant made Tripi remember that all his things, including Ayishah’s backpack and her pocket dictionary, were still in MailOrderBrideMan’s house. He had nothing left but her school photograph, tucked into the back pocket of his trousers.

  Maybe, when he went to Milo’s house later tonight, they could find a way to get it all back. Milo had called the mobile again and said that Tripi could stay at his house, that his mum had agreed. This made Tripi feel better, that Lovely Sandy wanted Tripi in her home even with that Al man living upstairs.

  As he walked past Room 7, Tripi heard zipping and thumping and Petros saying things in his Greek language that sounded similar to the Syrian words that people used when they were angry.

  ‘Petros?’ He opened the door and looked in.

  The bed was stripped, bags piled up in a corner, Petros’s paintings of Greece taken off the walls and propped up by the bin.

  Petros stood on a chair, pulling a suitcase off the wardrobe. It landed on the carpet with a thud.

  ‘What is going on, Petros?’

  The old man breathed heavily, his hair stuck up around his bald patch like bits of straw, his yellow cap on the floor.

  ‘I’m leaving,’ said Petros.

  ‘Why?’

  ‘Nurse Thornhill needs my room.’

  ‘But it is your room, Petros, you are a resident here.’

  Petros shook his head.

  ‘I don’t understand.’ Tripi went over and helped Petros off the chair.

  ‘My daughter stopped paying.’

  ‘Stopped paying for what?’

  ‘For my place here. She said it was too expensive, she has gone back to live in Greece.’

  ‘But didn’t you come to England because of your daughter?’

  Petros stared down at his cap. ‘She thought it would be nice for her children to have me close by. It turned out they weren’t so interested in spending time with an old man.’

  ‘And Nurse Thornhill let you stay? Without paying?’

  Petros nodded. ‘Although to my grandchildren I am ancient, next to the ladies here, I am young. And I am a man, good for the Forget Me Not profile.’

  Tripi thought about how Petros followed Nurse Thornhill around with his camera the other day. How he never seemed to notice when she did unkind things or made decisions that were not in the best interests of the old people. But Nurse Thornhill must have more of a reason than this for letting Petros stay.

  ‘What else, Petros?’

  Petros sat down on the chair, put on his cap and bowed his head. ‘I tell her things.’

  ‘What things?’

  ‘Information about the patients.’ He slumped his shoulders. ‘And other people.’

  ‘Like me?’

  Petros nodded.

  ‘And Nurse Heidi?’

  ‘Everyone.’ And then he lifted his cap a bit and smiled. ‘Well,
not everyone. Not me and Louisa, that was meant to be a secret.’

  Tripi closed the door. ‘Nurse Thornhill makes you spy on us?’ he whispered.

  It started to make sense. How Nurse Thornhill always turned up at just the right time. How she knew everything that was going on. Tripi thought about what Nurse Heidi said the other day. Petros was Nurse Thornhill’s CCTV.