by Susan Lewis
Lucy’s hackles rose. To try turning her little phobia into a positive reason for why he shouldn’t be here now, when his son was about to leave for six months, and when she could really do with his support, physically if nothing else, was taking artifice to a degree she didn’t like one bit. However, that was Joe all over, never lost for a slippery route out of a guilty conscience, so what was the point in arguing, especially when he was already on his way north?
‘I know he’s my cousin and everything,’ Stephie had stated when she’d dropped in later to find Lucy in a foul mood, ‘but sometimes I have to wonder if you might not be better off without him.’
Though she didn’t disagree, all Lucy said was, ‘It’s OK, I’ve had a vent now, so let’s not start tearing him apart.’
Undeterred, Stephie said, ‘What about the trial separation? Is it still a part of the deal?’ Her hungry eyes were showing how torn she was between wanting Lucy to find out what it was like to be single, and hoping that her cousin’s marriage would find its way back on track.
‘As far as I’m concerned it is,’ Lucy replied, ‘but it’s not easy to tell how Joe’s viewing it from in the sand, which is where his head is stuck. Your mother was here earlier and apparently he told her that we just need a bit of time to figure out how we’re going to make things work, with me being in the Cotswolds and him in London.’
Though Stephie had looked tactlessly doubtful about the chances of that working out, to Lucy’s relief she’d promptly dropped the subject and launched into the intimate details of her second date with the security guard, who’d ended up staying the night, but then he hadn’t called again since so did Lucy think she should call him?
No, Lucy didn’t, but it wasn’t what Stephie wanted to hear, so she’d had to sit through all the reasons why Stephie felt she should pick up the phone, or send a text, or maybe even a card to say thanks for a great evening.
Coming back to the present as Hanna entwined their fingers, Lucy rested her head on her daughter’s as Hanna said, ‘I know why you were crying. It’s because of Ben, isn’t it?’ Her voice began to quiver with tears. ‘I don’t want him to go either,’ she said. ‘Everything’s changing and it’s all horrible and Dad’s not here which is the worst. Why does Ben have to go now?’
Why now? Why ever? Lucy was asking herself. ‘You know he’s had this trip planned for a long time …’
‘Yeah, but it can be dangerous in Thailand with all those Red Shirts …’
‘Please don’t remind me of that.’
‘You should stop him from going.’
‘At eighteen he gets to make his own decisions,’ Lucy reminded her.
‘You’re going to seriously regret it if something happens to him.’
Lucy said, more sharply than she’d intended, ‘Nothing’s going to happen to him. He’ll be fine. He knows how to take care of himself and he’s not reckless or stupid.’
‘It doesn’t have to be him who does something stupid. Someone might attack him, or steal all his stuff, or plant drugs on him …’
‘Hanna, please don’t do this. I’m working very hard to convince myself that he’s going to be safe, and you’re really not helping.’
‘I’m just saying, that’s all. God, you always have to have a go at me. I know he’s your favourite and I just get on your nerves …’
Gathering her up tightly as she started to cry again, Lucy said, ‘That is utter nonsense and you know it. I love you equally …’
‘No, you don’t.’
‘Yes, I do. OK, we have our ups and downs, you and me, but that’s normal between a mother and daughter, especially when girls get to your age. I know I used to give Granny a pretty hard time when I was fifteen, so I guess I’m getting a taste of my own medicine now.’
Hanna looked interested. ‘Were you really bad?’ she said hopefully.
Lucy grimaced, though she wasn’t prepared to concoct something awful in case it gave Hanna ideas. ‘I sometimes wonder how poor Granny ever managed to put up with me,’ she fudged, ‘especially when she’s so sweet and mild-tempered and never says anything to hurt anyone. It must have been pretty difficult for her when I was going through adolescence, but we’ve both survived. And you and I will too.’
Hanna was still locked into the idea of her mother as a rebel. ‘Were you worse than me?’ she asked.
Lucy tilted her head as she gave it some thought. ‘No, no one’s that bad,’ she decided.
Realising she was being teased, Hanna smiled. ‘I’m quite a lot like you, really, aren’t I?’ she said, seeming, to Lucy’s surprise, not wholly appalled by the idea. ‘We both have fiery tempers and end up saying things we shouldn’t. Well, I do, anyway, especially to you. Ben’s more like Dad. And like Granny, because he’s all cool and laid-back, nothing ever seems to get to him. I wish he wasn’t going, Mum,’ she said, starting to cry again. ‘I really, really love him and it’s going to be horrible not having him or Dad around. Or my friends, or anyone who matters.’
‘I know, sweetheart, but you won’t let Granny or Grandpa hear you say that, will you, because I think they’d like to feel that they matter.’
‘Of course they do, and so do you, but they’re going to be in Exmoor soon, and anyway, you know what I’m saying.’
Smiling, and pulling her into a deeper cuddle, Lucy sat gazing at the wall, tracing the cracks she’d come to know so well, while trying to stop her mind conjuring all the disasters and perils Ben might meet on his travels. She had to give this up, or getting through each day was going to become as difficult as trying to deal with the nightmares by night. It was yet another reason, and perhaps the most important, why she was glad to have the challenge of taking over the auctions. With any luck she’d be too busy to keep falling victim to her demons, particularly those where her children were concerned.
‘What time’s Ben coming back?’ Hanna asked.
Surprised, Lucy said, ‘I didn’t know he’d gone out. Did he say where he was going?’
‘He was just taking some stuff over to Ali’s so it would be there in the morning.’
‘Of course,’ Lucy murmured, and feeling endlessly thankful that Ben’s travelling partner was from such a respectable family, she almost relaxed. She wondered how Mr and Mrs Patel were feeling today, along the road in their newspaper shop. Probably as fearful as she was, particularly with Ali being their only child. She’d no doubt find out later when they all got together for the boys’ farewell dinner.
‘Do you think Dad’ll ring tonight?’ Hanna yawned.
‘I’m sure he will.’
‘Aren’t you worried that he might forget about us, if we’re not here any more? I know I would be, if I were you.’
‘Oh Hanna, Hanna, Hanna …’
‘Don’t do that,’ Hanna protested angrily. ‘I hate my name anyway and when you say it like that it really bugs me.’
Closing her eyes, Lucy said, ‘It’s a very pretty name.’
‘Ugh! It’s revolting. I don’t know why you had to give me it. I bet it was you, wasn’t it?’
‘Actually, it was Dad’s choice,’ Lucy told her. ‘If I’d had my way you’d be Rebecca.’
Hanna looked horrified. ‘That’s even worse,’ she declared.
Lucy smiled. ‘Well, I like it. Actually, according to Granny I used to have an imaginary friend called Rebecca.’
Hanna’s horror was compounded. ‘You are so weird,’ she informed her.
Lucy’s eyebrows arched.
Hanna’s eyes narrowed suspiciously. ‘So, what, like you used to pretend someone was there when they weren’t?’ she said. ‘Did you talk to them and everything?’
‘I suppose so. I don’t really remember.’
‘It’s because you were an only child, isn’t it?’
‘Possibly, except that wouldn’t explain why you had one too.’
Hanna’s eyes nearly popped out. ‘No way am I a raving loony,’ she declared with certainty.
‘I’m trying to think w
hat you called her,’ Lucy continued. ‘Penny! That’s it. She had to come everywhere with us. We even had to feed her and buy her clothes. Dad used to give her rides on his back and I’d help you to wash her hair and tuck her up in bed.’
Hanna’s expression was incredulous. ‘You’re winding me up,’ she accused.
Lucy shook her head. ‘You wouldn’t be parted from her for ages, then one day she suddenly wasn’t there any more.’
Hanna nodded. ‘That must have been the day I got a life.’
Laughing, Lucy started to get up from the bed.
‘You were kidding, weren’t you?’ Hanna insisted.
‘If you say so,’ Lucy replied, pulling a brush through her hair. ‘Is Sadie coming with us tonight?’ When there was no reply she turned back to find Hanna’s eyes full of tears again.
‘She’s my best friend,’ Hanna wailed, ‘and she’s dreading me going nearly as much as I am. I think it’s really mean of you to take me away. I so don’t deserve it.’
‘I’m not doing it to punish you,’ Lucy reminded her, though in truth she could hardly wait to get Hanna away from the girl whose parents were known to be on drugs, and who had already earned herself a seriously unpleasant reputation. ‘What time did you tell her to come over?’
‘Six o’clock. We’re going to hang out in my bedroom before we go.’
Probably texting boys or plotting how to shoplift from New Look, Lucy suspected with growing apprehension.
After Hanna had gone to run a bath Lucy began pulling out drawers and opening cupboards to make sure nothing was left inside. Since she’d performed this task half an hour ago she wasn’t quite sure why she was doing it again. It wasn’t as if something might have magically appeared in the last few minutes, or worked its way out of the cracks. Still, there was no harm in double-checking, or in feeling thankful for the first time in her married life that she and Joe had no furniture of any particular worth. All those years of poring through magazines and browsing shops imagining how wonderful it would be to own a sumptuous Italian three-piece, or a huge wrought-iron bedstead, or some exquisite Eastern chests, or a dining table with no scratches and matching chairs … Dreams that had never come true, nor would they now, at least not here, but the good part was that it meant she didn’t have to worry about moving any of what they did have to Cromstone – or getting rid of it at the dump, because the landlord had given them a hundred pounds to leave it in place. So, all she had to do now was load up the car with their personal belongings, hand back the keys and go.
As easy as that.
Except it wouldn’t be, of course, because nothing ever was. For a start there wasn’t enough room in the car for a couple of backpacks and two teenage boys, so she couldn’t take Ben and Ali to the airport tomorrow. Charlie had offered, but then had taken off for Tenerife, and Vince would have done it if his minicab wasn’t in the shop. So Ali’s uncle was going to drive them. She and Hanna couldn’t even go to the airport to say goodbye, since it would have meant leaving the car with all their worldly goods in a parking lot that had notices all over it warning people not to leave valuables in their vehicles. So she’d have to say goodbye to her son tonight, and the mere thought of it was already stirring up such an awful panic inside her that she was finding it hard to breathe.
‘Shall I get that?’ Hanna offered as she came back into the bedroom.
Realising the phone was ringing Lucy waved her on, and plonked down on a suitcase in an effort to squash it shut.
‘Hello?’ Hanna said. ‘Oh, hey Granny. How are you?’
Pleased by the angelic front Hanna usually put on for her grandparents, and loving her for considering them worthy of it, Lucy bounced on the lid again and only became aware of how baffled Hanna was sounding when she heard her say, ‘So when was the last time you saw him?’
‘Saw who?’ Lucy asked, using the bedpost to pull herself up.
‘Grandpa,’ Hanna mouthed. Then into the phone, ‘Did he say where he was going?’
‘Let me speak to her,’ Lucy said, coming to take the phone as a new wave of foreboding washed over her. ‘Mum? Is everything OK?’
‘I think so,’ her mother replied. ‘I was just wondering if Dad had called you at all today, but Hanna says he hasn’t.’
‘No, but why are you asking?’
‘Oh, no reason. Well, he went out in the car earlier and he hasn’t come back yet.’
‘What time did he leave?’
‘About ten thirty this morning.’
Lucy reeled. ‘Mum, that’s over six hours ago. You have to call the police and local hospitals to make sure nothing’s happened to him.’
‘But if it had someone’s sure to have been in touch with me by now.’
‘You don’t know that for certain. Would you like me to make the calls?’
‘No, no. You’ve got enough on your plate, and I’m sure he’ll walk in the door any minute. I just wanted to find out if he’d been in touch with you. I’ll ring again as soon as I have some news.’
Before she could hang up, Lucy said, ‘Mum, I know you don’t like talking about this, but we both know he’s become quite forgetful lately …’
‘Just a moment, dear, my mobile’s ringing, it might be him.’ A few minutes later her mother came back on the line sounding years younger with relief as she said, ‘Yes it was and everything’s fine. Silly me, getting all worked up. There’s …’
‘So where is he?’
‘… nothing to worry about. I’d better ring off now. I’m sorry to have bothered you.’
‘It’s OK, but Mum, you have to start facing the fact that he might need some tests.’
With a sigh her mother said, ‘One thing at a time, Lucy. Let’s get him home first, then we can start discussing what, if anything, needs to be done.’
By the time they all left Frankie and Benny’s that night Lucy seemed to have lost contact with what she was saying, or even thinking. She was merely aware, as they started towards home in a straggling group, of being thankful that her brothers- and sisters-in-law weren’t suggesting coming back for another couple of bottles, the way they usually did when Joe was around – and that her father-in-law had managed not to upset any of the waiters with one of his choicer racist remarks. At least, she hoped he hadn’t, but since she hadn’t heard it if he had, she was happy to tell herself that for once he’d kept his revolting BNP views to himself. The only awkward moment she could recall was when Hanna had accused her of not engaging with her own family because she already considered herself too good for them. The silence that followed had made her realise that all the rough diamonds and hearts of gold sitting around the table were thinking the same way, and though they were wrong, she knew she wasn’t as sorry to be saying goodbye to them as she probably ought to have been.
Ben had been unusually quiet during the meal too, and knowing him so well Lucy guessed it wasn’t only nerves about his upcoming trip that were bothering him, he’d be worried about her too. He wouldn’t have had to be told how hard she was finding it to face their imminent parting, he was perfectly aware of her phobia, so he was no doubt dreading the kind of scene she might create when it came time to let go. Hopefully, it wouldn’t be anywhere near as mortifying as the day she’d sent him off on his first camping trip, aged eight, when she’d started banging frantically on the bus doors as they closed, begging the driver to open them again. Even she had been aware of the overreaction, but there had been nothing she could do to stop herself because she simply couldn’t bear the thought of him being transported away.
In the end Joe had managed to prise her away so the bus could set off, but the next thing they knew she was running down the road after it shouting to the teachers to bring her little boy back.
How much teasing Ben had suffered as a result of her hysteria she still didn’t know because he wouldn’t talk about it when he came home, and Joe’s only comment was that he’d always known she was off her head so this just went to prove it.
‘Why
do you think I get like it?’ she’d asked her mother after it happened again when Hanna, aged seven, went for her first sleepover with a friend in Gidea Park. It hadn’t been quite so bad on that occasion since she’d known exactly where Hanna was going and what time she’d be back in the morning, but even so, the terrible panic that came over her as Hanna waved from the back seat of her friend’s mother’s car had set off the silent screaming deep down inside her. She hadn’t been able to sleep at all that night, or leave the window until Hanna came home. ‘Did something happen in the past that I’ve blanked out now?’ she ventured. ‘I mean, it’s not normal, is it, to get the way I do?’
Daphne had taken her hands between her own and held them tightly. ‘Nothing bad’s ever happened to you, Lucy,’ she replied earnestly. ‘You know Dad and I would never let it.’
But it had, because her father had once rescued her from a fire when a faulty main had leaked gas into their house and exploded. It was a miracle, she’d often been told, that she had survived the fire at all, never mind with so few burns, but that was all thanks to her father’s quick thinking in wrapping her in a huge duvet to carry her out. Anyway, it hardly seemed to have a connection to her dread of goodbyes, so there hadn’t been any point in bringing it up while trying to dig some sort of forgotten trauma from her mother’s mind.
‘But I did get lost once, in John Lewis,’ she pointed out. ‘I was about six, I think, and I remember how scared you were – and cross with me that I’d wandered off. Do you think it might stem from that?’
‘I suppose it’s possible,’ Daphne concurred with a frown. ‘There’s never any knowing how a child’s brain might process events, but you were only missing for a few minutes … Anyway, what’s important is that you try not to frighten the children with this dread of yours, or they’ll become afraid to do things without you.’
Her mother was right, of course, and since the last thing Lucy wanted was her children to feel tied to her out of fear, from then on whenever a school trip, or any kind of stay away from home came up, she let Joe take them to the bus, or the train, or the car outside, while she stood in the kitchen trying desperately to overcome the panic.