The Jump

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by Cole, Martina


  ‘Come on, Donna, give over. Calm down.’

  Gradually the laughter left her body. She sat back in her seat and wiped her eyes with the back of her hands, leaving black lines from her mascara across her fingers.

  ‘After all I heard here today, I never thought I’d laugh again. But there, you could always shock me, Georgio. It seems you haven’t lost the knack.’

  She picked up her purse from the table and stood up. ‘I’m going now, I have to get back. It’s a long journey here, you know. I really don’t know how the women with children manage it.’ She kissed her husband’s cheek and straightened up.

  Georgio was flabbergasted. ‘You’re going? Visiting time’s not up yet, we have another hour at least.’

  ‘Your visit is up, Georgio. I need some good clean air in my lungs. I need time to think. I need time for me now.’

  ‘Don’t go, Donna. Please don’t go yet.’

  She stared down into her husband’s face and grinned. ‘If only you knew, Georgio, the number of times I’ve said that to you in my mind. Unlike you, though, I never had the guts to say it out loud. Maybe if I hadn’t been such a coward, you might be at home with me now. Tell this Lewis he did us a favour with the car lot by the way - we’re quids in.’

  Georgio watched with amazement as his wife, his little Donna, left the visiting room.

  He felt as if he had just lost something precious.

  Chapter Ten

  On the ferry back to the mainland, Donna sat beside a young girl with two children, a boy of about three and his big sister. The mother herself didn’t look much older than twenty.

  ‘Do you mind if I smoke?’

  Donna shook her head. ‘Not at all.’

  The young woman lit a cigarette and drew the smoke down into her lungs. ‘I should give up really, but I can’t.’

  Donna looked at her properly, taking in the light blonde hair and the expertly applied make-up.

  ‘They’re not very good for one’s health.’

  The woman roared with laughter. ‘Sod me health, love. It’s just that I can’t really afford them!’

  Donna found herself laughing with her as if what she had said was hilarious.

  The young mother sat her son on her lap and wiped his face with a grubby handkerchief. ‘What’s your old man in for?’

  Donna looked out of the window at the passing water and sighed. The girl carried on talking as if she had answered.

  ‘My Wayne’s on a twelve-stretch. I could have killed him. Robbed our local Tesco. Course, it was summertime, so he only had a T-shirt on and his tattoos, my name in a heart and the kids’ underneath, were on show. One of me neighbours grassed him up. Not exactly Brain of Britain, know what I mean? Still, as I said to his mum, at least we know where he is!’

  She laughed again, a good-natured infectious laugh, and suddenly Donna felt a great urge to cry for this beautiful young woman and her children.

  ‘Your children are lovely. What are their names?’

  The girl pulled her son’s head around and kissed him hard on the mouth. ‘This is Michael Joseph and she’s Chivonne Maria, otherwise known as Micky and ’Vonne. He’s three and she’s six.’ The little girl smiled shyly at Donna, displaying gapped front teeth. It made her look very endearing and vulnerable.

  ‘They’re gorgeous, and very good. They’ve hardly moved an inch since we boarded.’

  The mother winked. ‘That’s because I threatened them with death, pain, torture and destruction before we set out today. But we’ve been doing this once a fortnight for nearly a year now, so they’re quite used to it. They get more attention from their dad when he’s banged up. My name’s Caroline, by the way. What’s yours?’

  ‘Donna, Donna Brunos. Pleased to meet you.’

  Caroline shook Donna’s hand. ‘I saw you today. Your old man’s a bit of all right, ain’t he? Very good-looking. Have you got any kids?’

  The question was asked in innocence and Donna, looking into the girl’s open, trusting face, felt once more an urge to cry her eyes out. The ferry docked and Donna stood up, taking Chivonne’s hand and helping Caroline off the ferry with her pushchair and bags.

  Outside it was overcast, and a wind was picking up off the sea.

  ‘I’d better get a cab to the station,’ Caroline said. ‘Nice meeting you anyway, Donna. Probably see you again.’

  Donna watched her struggling with the children and the bags, wheeling the pushchair with difficulty while she staggered on impossibly high heels, her narrow back making her look very young.

  ‘Caroline,’ she called out, ‘where exactly are you going?’

  ‘East Ham. Want to travel with me?’

  Donna walked over to her. ‘No. Let me give you a lift home. We can stop on the way, break the journey for the children, eh? I’m going to Canning Town anyway.’

  Caroline’s face was animated with pleasure. ‘You sure now, ’cos these two can be a bit noisy?’

  Donna grinned, taking Chivonne’s hand. ‘I’m sure. I don’t have any children myself so consequently, I rather like them. Even if they are noisy!’

  She led the little group over the road and into the car park opposite the ferry terminal. She opened up her Mercedes and Caroline was impressed.

  ‘What a lovely motor! Your old man must have done you proud.’

  Donna smiled tightly and helped her to belt the children into the back of the car. Michael Joseph was falling asleep on his feet, and Chivonne settled him back on the seat as if she was his mother.

  Ten minutes later they had stowed the pushchair in the boot with the bags and were driving along the road. Caroline chattered her thanks and Donna was pleased she had her there, was glad of the company. While she had them in the car she didn’t have to think.

  ‘I’d love a car, Donna. Nothing expensive - a little runaround would do me. But I ain’t got the money. It’s a pain in the arse getting down to visit Wayne. I could get the coach, but there’s some right ones on there, you know. Right sorts. All talking about how hard their husbands are. Oh, you know the scenario. I can’t handle it myself. So Wayne’s mum and me come down by train. It’s more expensive but it’s worth it for the peace. How long is your old man doing?’

  Donna said quietly, ‘Eighteen years.’

  Caroline’s face spoke volumes. ‘What’s he done? Murder or something?’ It was said with interest, no judgement whatsoever. Donna sighed. ‘It’s a long story.’

  Caroline grinned. ‘Well, I ain’t going nowhere, love. But if you want to keep stumm about it, that’s fine by me.’

  She turned around in the car and checked on her children. ‘All right, ’Vonne? Lovely to get a lift, ain’t it?’

  ‘I’m hungry, Mum. Me belly thinks me throat’s been cut.’

  Donna laughed at the child’s words.

  Caroline rolled her eyes. ‘She picks all that up from me. Everything I say she copies. I have to watch me language, I can tell you!’ She turned back to the child. ‘When we get home I’ll make you something. It won’t be that long now, love, I promise.’

  Ten minutes later Donna pulled into a Happy Eater on the motorway. She stopped the car and turned to Caroline.

  ‘Let’s all have something.’ Caroline’s face was sombre, her eyes blank. Donna frowned. ‘What’s wrong?’

  Caroline looked out of the car window in distress. ‘Look, I ain’t got the money . . .’

  Donna interrupted her and squeezed her arm. ‘Well, I have. They do a lovely hamburger, I hear.’

  ’Vonne whooped with delight. ‘Can I have French fries with mine? Not chips, I want French fries.’

  Donna smiled at her. ‘You can have anything you want, it’s my treat.’ Before Caroline could argue she was out of the car and opening the door. ‘Come on then, kids. Let’s get going!’

  Chivonne was already unbuckling her brother’s seat belt. Michael Joseph was awake and smiling.

  Inside, Donna ordered the children a large meal and milkshakes; a hamburger and coffee
for herself and when Caroline only asked for coffee, she ordered her a hamburger as well.

  Sitting at the table, Caroline said, ‘Thanks ever so much. They get so hungry, and they ate their sandwiches ages ago.’

  Donna flicked a hand at her. ‘Forget it. How long have you been married?’

  Caroline shrugged. ‘I’m not married. Wayne didn’t want to be tied down. I had the kids and he lived with me and still had his freedom. Or so he thought anyway. He never saw us without, not once. He always ducked and dived like, this was his first big one and he got caught. I could have murdered him when the Old Bill turned up. Smug bastards they were and all, but then you’d know that already. So he was nicked and eventually he got his sentence. No bail, nothing beforehand. I mean, we ain’t got the money for anything like that. Michael was six months old when he got the capture. Wayne was twenty-three. We’re the same age.’

  Donna said, ‘You must have been very young when you had Chivonne.’

  ‘Just seventeen. I went out with Wayne from when I was fourteen. Never had another bloke in all me life. He was over the moon when Michael Joseph was born. I think that’s why he done the blag. We was rock bottom, see. Couldn’t pay the bills, nothing. He’d been out of work a good while. Couldn’t even go clipping because he was a known face and he knew if he got caught he’d be in for a four at least. Then the silly bastard goes and does the blag at Tesco with his mate, and now he’s away for eight years at least. Unless he pushes his luck, then he’ll do the whole twelve.’

  Chivonne was listening to her mother intently as she was speaking.

  ‘He’ll be good, Mum, he told me he would.’

  Donna dropped her eyes to her plate. Her throat was thick with tears again. The child’s acceptance of her plight was heartrending.

  ‘Come on, ’Vonne, eat your grub. You shouldn’t be listening to me talk.’

  ’Vonne, a beautiful child with long blonde hair and large green eyes, said impatiently, ‘I can’t help hearing you, Mum, because I ain’t deaf!’

  Even Donna smiled at the child’s exasperated words.

  ‘So, what happened with your old man?’ Caroline enquired.

  Donna found herself telling Caroline everything about Georgio’s trial and subsequent sentence. It was an unburdening. She described how she had taken over all his businesses and the mess she had found them in, and then she told Caroline how she had confronted him. Everything.

  Caroline shook her head and frowned. ‘How long was you married?’

  ‘Twenty years this year.’

  ‘Didn’t you want any children or anything?’

  ‘I couldn’t have any. We tried for a long time. Every month I thought, this is it. A baby. But it never happened. Eventually we went to see a specialist and I found that I can’t conceive properly. It’s long and complicated. I had three miscarriages while on fertility drugs. It’s funny, you know, but when I heard of people giving birth to six children at once, or five, it reminded me of an animal, like having a litter of puppies or something. Yet I would gladly have given birth to twenty in the end, I wanted a baby so desperately. I wanted a child for Georgio, because he wanted a child so much. I used to worry myself sick in case he left me for some fertile beauty with big breasts and child-bearing hips!’

  Caroline laughed with her, but the girl’s face was filled with sorrow for her newfound friend.

  ‘Then, as the years went on, we talked about it less and less. In the end it was a self-defence thing. Our friends’ children started growing up, and we were getting older, and then I tried having a test-tube baby. I lost it at four months, a perfectly formed little boy. I lost heart after that, and so did Georgio. I was depressed, so very depressed. Georgio was like a child himself in many respects. I looked after him, our home, everything. I never had to do a day’s work. I even have a live-in housekeeper. My idea of a heavy day was doing the gardening - and I have a man who comes twice a week to cut the lawns and roll the tennis court. Another young man comes to clean the pool once a month. Outwardly I have everything, inside I’m empty. I have no children, and my husband is doing eighteen years, and now he wants me to do something I’m not sure I can do. Not even sure I want to do. It’s all a mess, a terrible mess.’

  Caroline was dumbstruck, unable to think of any words of comfort. She liked this woman enormously, liked everything about her, from the way she dressed to her lovely voice and kind nature. She felt as though Donna was centuries older than her, not in years but in experience of life. Listening to her loneliness was like a knife-thrust in the heart. She glanced at her own children, little Michael Joseph with a face covered in tomato sauce and a mouthful of hamburger, and her daughter, her Chivonne, with her blonde pigtails and gappy front teeth. She thought of her high-rise flat in East Ham and suddenly felt grateful for all she had. Being a natural mother herself, she recognised a kindred spirit in the well-dressed woman sitting opposite.

  ‘What does he want you to do?’

  Donna shook her head slowly. ‘I can’t tell you that, I’m sorry. I’m not even sure I heard him properly, it’s so outrageous. I worshipped Georgio from the first time I saw him, I have lived my life to please him, I was frightened that if I argued with him he’d leave me high and dry. Especially as I couldn’t give him a child. Consequently, he has lived his life as he wanted to, and I’ve allowed him to. He had affairs over the years and I never said a word, only lived for the day when I knew instinctively it was over. Now I am in control, he needs me more than I need him, and I feel pleasure in that fact, even though I know it’s wrong. It’s evil.’

  Caroline made a noise with her lips. ‘I don’t see why. He sounds a selfish bastard if you ask me. My mum says they’re all selfish bastards, men. Twenty years you’ve given him; you’ve looked after him, his home, the works. It might do him good to see you showing a bit of strength. I know Wayne is proud of me and the way I cope. I’ll tell you something else: I give him a bit of lip now, something I would never have done before he got sentenced. I like me bit of independence. I’ve been with him since I was a kid, he’s called the tune and I’ve done the dance he wanted, same as you.’

  Caroline paused and took a swig of her coffee. ‘It’s time for you to save your own life, girl,’ she went on. ‘Whatever he’s asked, think about it long and hard before you make a decision. Do what your head tells you and not what your heart does. That’s the only real advice I can offer. You’re a good-looking woman, a nice woman, so don’t sell yourself short. There’s plenty of people around to do that for you. If you want him then have him, but on your terms. That’s what I’ve done with my Wayne. I’ve got that poor git on his knees, and oh, it don’t half feel good. I ain’t stepped foot outside the house since he’s been banged up, but I let him think I’m out and about. Not having it off or nothing, but out with me mates and that. In fact, I go to Bingo with me mum on a Friday at the Mecca, it’s her treat, and me dad babysits! I’ve realised that a lot of life is not what you say, see, it’s what you don’t say. People have to make up their own minds then. It’s like a game, and only we know the rules.’

  Donna smiled at the simplicity of the words, and at the truth in them. This young girl, with a life harder than she could even imagine, had more knowledge of men than she did. Whether it came with the bearing of children she didn’t know. Maybe, like a lioness, you lived your life for children with only their protection in mind. You took second place. Or maybe it was because Donna had been sheltered too much. She had met Georgio six months after her parents had died in that multiple car crash. He had come and taken her life over.

  Her only other living relative was Hamish, her brother, twelve years older and with his own life in Liverpool. Austere Hamish, the graduate, the respectable man whose children were like characters from an old 1940s film. They called him and Annabel Mother and Father, not Mum and Dad. They were grown now, both leading exemplary lives, never having once roared with laughter naturally, or played anything more rowdy than Monopoly.

  ‘Ca
n I get you another coffee?’ The waitress’s voice broke into Donna’s thoughts.

  ‘Would you like another coffee, Caroline?’

  ‘I’ll have one if you’re having one.’

  Donna nodded at the young waitress, marvelling at how easy she felt inside herself.

  ‘Penny for your thoughts? I was worried we’d lost you there, Donna. I was gonna put a sign on you saying, “Normal service will be resumed as soon as possible”.’

  Donna threw back her head and laughed out loud. ‘You’re funny, Caroline, do you know that? You’re also like a dose of medicine. I’m so glad I met you today, I really am.’

  Caroline smiled, her face half-sad. ‘I’m glad I met you too, and thanks for treating the kids and that.’

  ‘Can I have some ice cream, please?’

  Donna smiled at the little boy and said, ‘Today, Michael Joseph, you can have anything you want!’

  He clapped his chubby hands with glee.

  Georgio lay in his cell worrying. His eyes strayed to the photos of Donna on the wall by his bunk. He couldn’t believe that she had walked out on him; never in all their lives together had she done a thing like that. It was a shock to realise just how much he really needed her. Especially now, when she had the house and the businesses in her name. Everything he had worked for and built up was in her name. The house was worth a small fortune and he wanted it. It had never occurred to him that she would be rebellious; she had always done exactly what he wanted. But he had never been banged up before doing eighteen years . . .

  Timmy crashed into the cell full of good humour. ‘All right, Georgio, my son? I had a lovely visit from the old woman and two of me girls. One of them’s pregnant, but it’s all right because the bloke’s gonna marry her, my brothers have seen to that. Family, eh? What would we do without them? Look at this.’

  Timmy pushed under his nose a photograph of a girl of about twenty-one with a child in her arms. The child was a little girl about two years old and you could see they were mother and daughter.

  ‘That’s my Tracy. Her little girl’s called Corinne. Lovely little thing, ain’t she?’

 

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