Ribbons in Her Hair

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Ribbons in Her Hair Page 19

by Colette McCormick


  I’m too old for these dramas and I told her so. ‘It’s not like you didn’t know he was going,’ I said. ‘You’ve had time to prepare. Anyway, I thought you wanted him to go. You’ll see him again in a few weeks.’

  I know that she thought I was being heartless but I was just telling her the truth. It wasn’t like he was disappearing into the night never to be seen again for years.

  He’s finished university since then and got a job the other side of London so she doesn’t see much of him now either; none of us do. She’ll see even less next year. He’s marrying a Spanish girl and going to live in Madrid. At least she’ll get cheap holidays.

  Julie and Chris are just the same as always. They are like two peas in a pod, made for each other. They only had Michael but that doesn’t seem to matter to them. He’s twenty now and training to be some sort of engineer.

  And then there’s Mary. She works in an office somewhere and lives with Jack and he seems like a nice enough bloke. They’re having a baby. Susan rang last night and told me.

  ‘You’re going to be a great grandma,’ she told me and I cried. They’re not planning on getting married – nobody seems to get married these days; they’re all living over the brush – but there’s nothing I can do about it, so I don’t worry. The world has changed a lot since I was a girl.

  So, Susan is going to be a grandma before she’s forty. She’s still alone though, just like I said she would be. That worries me sometimes but it’s the bed she chose to lie in and she seems happy enough with her lot.

  HELEN

  I didn’t know what was going on when we got to Mum’s house that night. She and Dad were sitting in the living room chatting away to each other like I hadn’t seen them do in years. Richard and I had heard the laughter as soon as we’d come through the door and we’d looked at each other as if to say what the hell …? The noise woke James up. He’d been half asleep on my shoulder and at seven he was a bit heavy to be carrying but he’d fallen asleep in the car so I’d had no choice. He didn’t really want to wake up but the sound of what I can only describe as raucous laughter woke him right up.

  Richard took James from me and I carefully opened the frosted glass door to the living room. I wondered what I’d see when I got inside but it turned out to be just Mum and Dad sitting next to each other on the sofa with a bottle of brandy and two half-filled glasses on the coffee table in front of them.

  Mum saw me out of the corner of her eye. ‘Come on in,’ she said waving us over. ‘You too, Richard, come on in – we have got so much to tell you.’

  ‘What is it? Oh, happy Mother’s Day,’ I said, ‘holding out the gift bag that was hooked on my little finger. ‘Sorry we couldn’t make lunch and I know we’re late but the traffic was ridiculous.’ I sat down in one chair and Richard sat in the other with James on his knee. ‘Has Julie gone?’ I asked. It was a daft question because she obviously wasn’t there.

  ‘Aye,’ Mum giggled, ‘gone into labour.’

  ‘Labour? Is she all right?’

  ‘Yes,’ Mum said, without the giggle this time which I was thankful for because frankly it didn’t suit her. She was a like a stranger.

  With her emotions under control she told me that Julie’s waters had broken that afternoon, right there on the sofa. That explained the towel that was across one of the seats. Chris had rung from the hospital about an hour earlier to say things were progressing as they should be. I was just wondering if they had been this excited when I went into labour with James when Dad told me the real reason for the celebration.

  ‘Susan came back,’ he said.

  I thought I’d misheard him at first. I mean, why would Susan come back? But I only had to look at Dad’s face to know that he was telling the truth. I’d never seen him look so happy. I didn’t know what to say and, in the end, all I could do was ask, ‘When?’

  ‘Today,’ he said. ‘She just turned up out of the blue on the doorstep.’

  ‘With the little girl?’ I asked.

  ‘Yes, with Mary,’ Mum said, without even a hint of embarrassment.

  Mum had become more tolerant of people in recent years and anyway, a pregnant teenager wasn’t her shame du jour any more was it? Susan and her secret were out of sight now, unlike my divorce. Except they were back suddenly and Mum seemed quite happy about it. Maybe she had changed more than I had given her credit for.

  I asked where Susan was now and they said that she’d gone home. I asked where home was and was surprised when they told me. It had a good shopping centre on the outskirts where Robert and I used to do our Christmas shopping. Had I ever come close to seeing her?

  I was happy that Susan was back, really I was, but I just couldn’t understand it. Why then? What had changed? I got the chance to ask her the following week when she came again but I didn’t bother; it didn’t make any difference did it? What mattered was that she was back with the daughter that was the image of all of Tim Preston’s kids. Apart form the eyes that is – the eyes weren’t his.

  I’d spent all week wondering how I would react when I saw her. We’d never been close, in fact I used to try and ignore her to tell you the truth. When I was young I was a bit embarrassed by her I think though I don’t really know why. It might have been the greasy hair and the chubby cheeks but I’d like to think that I’m not that shallow. I was going to have to face her again and I didn’t know what to expect.

  When I saw her she just opened her arms up and I couldn’t help but go into them. I’d never hugged her before in my life – I’m not big into physical contact – but she was hugging me so what could I do? We didn’t say much to each other, so there was nothing new there, but we did exchange pleasantries. I introduced her to Richard and she introduced us to Mary. The child was perfectly pleasant and so well mannered. I had to admit that she could have taught James a thing or two, especially the words please and thank you.

  The next time I met up with Susan was the afternoon that we all went round to Julie’s. She’d just come out of hospital after having her baby and I remember thinking there we were, three sisters with our children. How different things were since the last time we’d all been together.

  We’re still not close, not as close as she and Julie are but I am glad that Susan came back into our lives. She’s going to be a grandma soon and I can’t help wishing it was me.

  JULIE

  Mum was busy in the kitchen with the dinner so I’d said that I would get the door. There was football on and Dad and Chris were watching it, so if we’d waited for them to answer the knock whoever it was would have been standing there a long time. I don’t know who I’d expected to find on a Sunday lunchtime but if I’d had to guess I would never have said Susan. Yet there she was.

  I’d always thought it was a cliché when people said that their hearts were in their mouths but no, it’s real; I know it can happen because that’s exactly what happened to me. Suddenly something was thumping in my throat and I felt faint. I had to lean against the door jamb to stop myself falling over. Time sort of stood still for a minute and the next thing I knew, Mum was standing beside me face to face with the daughter she hadn’t seen for … how long was it? Six years?

  Once I’d got over the initial shock I was so happy to see her. And the little one of course; my God, she was the spit of Tim, apart from the eyes that is, there was something about the eyes. Mum told them to come in and shut the door. There was a bit of a stand off between Mum and Susan; they are as stubborn as each other and I didn’t know who was going to blink first. Then Mary introduced herself to her grandma which took Mam by surprise and then Mam surprised me even more by telling her that she was her gran. Mam had a bit of a wobble on when she took Mary’s hand but she soon pulled herself together and she and Susan started looking at each other again. I suggested that I take Mary to meet her granddad so that the pair of them could get on with whatever they were going to do. I don’t think Mary was that keen on leaving her mum, which was hardly surprising given that she didn’t k
now me from Adam and she could probably sense the tension, but Susan gave her the nod and she went with me into the living room.

  Chris had a look of who is that? On his face but Dad knew exactly who it was immediately. His face lit up as soon as he saw her.

  ‘Is…?’ He didn’t get any further than that.

  I nodded my head and took Mary to him. God love her, she offered her hand for him to shake and said, ‘Hello, I’m Mary and I am very pleased to meet you.’ It was adorable.

  Dad took her hand and said he was pleased to meet her too. He looked at me and I could see the question that was on his face. I nodded my head to the door that I had just come through just to reassure him that Susan was here too.

  He sobbed when Susan came into the room. She sobbed too and they hugged each other for a long time. They’ve always had a special bond and it was as though, now they were back together, they didn’t want to let each other go. Mum watched them and whereas before there would have been something critical on her face now she smiled. Mum really had changed and it was only then that I realised how much.

  I didn’t get the chance to enjoy the reunion though because they’d been there less than half an hour when I felt something warm and wet and realised that my waters had broken. I thought bloody hell, I’m sitting on Mum’s sofa but it wasn’t like it was something I could hide so I had to come clean and tell her I was sorry. She told me not to be so soft and that it couldn’t be helped! It was like an alien had taken over her body. Mum rang the hospital and then Chris and I had to leave.

  I didn’t know how to feel about the baby coming. I was excited obviously. I – we – had wanted this baby so much and now it was on its way, but I also wanted to talk to Susan. I had a million questions that I wanted to ask her but my priority was my baby, just as Susan’s had been, so I went off to hospital and Susan promised that she would come and see me the following week.

  Chris will tell you that I talked about Susan all the way through my labour. Obviously he knew what had happened that had made her go away but he didn’t know much about what her childhood had been like. I told him how hard I think it was for her being so much younger than Helen and me. We’d had each other but she was on her own. She didn’t even have Mum; none of us had really but it seemed worse for Susan. I told Chris something that I had never admitted to anyone not even him before; I told him that I wished things had been different, that I had been a better sister to her when she was young. The trouble was that even though I tried to appear like a bolshy teenager I was easily led by Helen. She was the older sister and I had always looked up to her so I followed her lead when it came to Susan. Plus, like I said, she was so much younger than us that we didn’t have a lot in common. We became closer after Helen married Robert and then I wished that we’d done it earlier. She was a good kid and things might have been different.

  Anyway, things were what they were, and at least we had found the relationship that we should have always had. And thank God we did; she’d felt able to contact me after she’d left and I think if she hadn’t been able to do that we might not have heard from her ever again.

  I always hoped that she’d come back but I hadn’t expected it to happen that day. And what a day that was! I had my son Michael just after midnight. It was the happiest day of my life.

  Susan was true to her word and came back to see me the following week. I’d just got home from hospital the day before when Helen and Susan came to visit me in the afternoon. They both had their children with them and it felt really good that the three of us were together with our little ones. It was something I hadn’t dared to hope would happen. Chris took a picture of the six of us. I haven’t looked at it in a while but I have it somewhere.

  Mary was a credit to Susan. I’d liked her as soon as I saw her but as I got to know her I liked her even more. That day, the one just after Michael was born, she gave me a little parcel that was wrapped up in blue tissue paper and said that it was a present for the baby. There were two T-shirts inside, one had an elephant on I remember, and I was so grateful. I knew money must be tight for Susan and her gesture, their gesture, really touched me. She’d already forked out for the bus fares twice and she’d still somehow managed to find the money for a gift for Michael. Mind, she always could save, not like me; I spend it as soon as I get it. I suppose she’d had to get used to managing her money.

  Mum had started to change before Susan came back but I noticed the difference in her even more afterwards. I think she still cared what the neighbours thought but she blocked them out now, she was just glad to have her daughter back. She never talked about what had happened though, not to me anyway and I doubt she has to Susan. We as a family never spoke about who Mary’s father was, why Susan did what she did, or any of it really. It was something we all knew had happened but we just didn’t acknowledge it, if that makes sense.

  I often wish that Susan had moved back but she never has. She says that she likes where she lives, that she has friends there and that she is happy, and that’s what matters the most. We see a lot of her though and I talk to her on the phone two or three times a week.

  I don’t think she has ever bothered with another man or at least, if she has, she’s never mentioned it to me. Mum always said that a man wouldn’t be interested in her once she had a baby. I’m not sure Mary is the reason Susan is still alone though, not in the way Mum meant. Mary is all that Susan needs.

  And now that she’s going to be a grandma she is so happy and I’m happy for her.

  MARY

  I love my mum so much. She’s more than a parent to me, she’s a friend too. She’s my best friend.

  Mum risked everything so that I could be born. She’d become pregnant as a teenager and ran away from home for reasons I’m not quite sure of, though I suspect it has something to do with my grandmother. She lived in a hostel for unmarried mothers in the months leading up to my birth and we lived a series of council houses after that.

  When Mum tells me of those very early days when we lived in a one bedroom flat she always smiles. I think that we were happy there. She’s told me all about the people that lived near us and I wish that I could remember them, especially the lady called Miriam because Mum seems very fond of her. Apparently she used to sing a lot. Mum’s friend Mandy also lived a few doors away from us with her daughter Jade but I don’t remember that either. I mean I’ve known them all of my life and they were always dropping into our house, or we were in theirs; I just can’t remember that flat, but then I was only about two when we moved so I suppose it’s not surprising.

  When I was five, Mum decided that we were going to visit her parents and we went on Mother’s Day. I don’t know if I actually remember what happened that day or if it’s something that I think I remember because I’ve been told the story so often. I vaguely remember the bus journey. It seemed really long but I didn’t mind because riding on the bus was an adventure to me.

  I do remember the way they looked at me though, these people that were my family. It was like they weren’t sure if I was real or not. I don’t remember much else about that day apart from the fact that one of the people, the one that turned out to be my Aunty Julie, wet herself and had to go to hospital because she said that her baby was coming. Of course she hadn’t wet herself, it was her waters breaking, but as a five-year-old I just thought she’d had a really big wee on the sofa and I remember being very confused by how that meant she was going to have a baby. I hadn’t wet myself in ages but that day I resolved always to go to the toilet as soon as I felt the need – I am so embarrassed to admit that and I can’t believe I’ve told you but I’ve said it to you now so I can’t take it back.

  Aunty Julie had a baby boy and called him Michael after his granddad. Mum explained to me that my auntie’s baby was my cousin and that I had another cousin too. In addition to the cousins I had grandparents, two aunts and even an uncle. However in all of this family there was no mention of a father. I think I was about eight when I asked Mum about him. S
he said that they just hadn’t got along and that she’d decided to bring me up on her own. That was enough for me when I was a very a small girl but as I got older I started to ask more questions. Not so much about why he wasn’t around but rather who he was. Did he know about me? What was he like? Was I like him? Her answers were, ‘No’ ‘A prat’ and ‘Yes, I did look like him.’

  I met him when I was about fifteen. Well, I didn’t meet him exactly but I saw him in the street. He was with a couple of other men standing around a car watching a fourth man fiddle about underneath it. He gave Mum a double take as we walked past and muttered something to his mates that I couldn’t hear. They all burst out laughing and started nudging each other. Mum kept her eyes straight ahead and marched past them towards my grandparents’ house. I looked at her as I walked beside her and I saw the muscles in the side of her face twitching as though it was taking everything she had to behave the way she was.

  ‘That was him, wasn’t it?’ I said and she barely nodded her head. I linked arms with her and said, ‘I think you were being generous when you called him a prat.’ We both laughed.

  She didn’t have to ask how I knew who he was because she had been right when she said I looked like him; it was like looking in a mirror. His face was my face. I thought that made my mum even more remarkable than I’d already thought she was because she loved me despite the fact that when she saw me she must have seen him.

  After that day I understood my grandmother’s behaviour towards me a bit more. Clearly I reminded her of the man who did my mother wrong – her words not mine. My gran was never hostile towards me, in fact she was lovely but, I don’t know, I always got the feeling that there was something different about me compared to her other grandchildren. The way I looked didn’t put my granddad off though; he always made me feel special but I think that was because Mum is so special to him.

 

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