She peered through the cupboards, looking for her box of Special K with cranberries. When she picked it up and shook it, it was empty, save for one lone flake. Was that flake symbolic? Was she that flake? Alone without even a cranberry to keep her company?
Damn it. She could make some porridge, she supposed, but the rumble from her tummy ruled that one out. This baby needed feeding now! Her only other choice was health Nazi Jo’s blasted granola mix. A large batch was still uneaten, sitting in the cupboard in a plastic cereal box.
Pete had told her how every month Jo toasted her own nuts and weighed out her sunflower seeds one by one and her coconut flakes too, making up her own sugar-free breakfast crunch. Jenny yawned loudly. Just thinking about all that effort made her tired. She bet Jo was a diet bore. Ha! How the hell poor Pete ever ended up with someone like her, Jenny would never work out. He must have been starving the entire time they were together.
She pushed aside the image of a gorgeous-looking Jo from her mind. She didn’t need that picture taunting her, not while she was nearly nine months pregnant.
Another rumble from her tummy, quickly followed by a kick from the baby for good measure, and Jenny had no choice but to shove her ‘I-will-not-touch-a-single-thing-placed-here-by-health-Nazi-Jo’ principles to one side. She pulled open the lid to the Tupperware container and the most intoxicating smell hit her. Nuts, honey, maple syrup, oats and apricots, which God damn it, was her second favourite fruit after the cranberry. She loved those little bites of golden sunshine.
She’d have one little bowl, just to keep the baby happy, then she’d make some porridge.
Sweet mother of all things crunchy! She’d never tasted anything so delicious in her entire life. The nutty texture, the apricots, the coconut, the cinnamon, the raisons and, glory be, the almonds too, were all covered with the hint of maple syrup. What kind of a witch was Jo? No wonder Pete had fallen for her. If she could make granola taste so bloody good, what other hidden talents did she have?
She had to have one more bowl. For the baby, not for her. The phone rang and she was tempted to ignore it, so she could continue gorging, but the thought that it might be Pete ringing on the landline made her answer it. She had him trained to only use the mobile so she didn’t have to get up, but he might have forgotten.
‘Hello,’ she muttered, mouth half full.
‘Hello, Jo dear,’ a voice said.
It was Audrey, Pete’s mother, the old witch. She knew full well she was speaking to Jenny, that Jo had left Pete weeks ago. She had all her marbles and that ‘slip’ was intentional, its aim only to wind her up. She wouldn’t give her the satisfaction.
‘Hello, Audrey. It’s Jenny. JENNY!’ She shouted loudly, just to annoy her. ‘I know how forgetful you get, now that you’re getting so OLD.’ Ha! Take that.
‘No need to shout, dear,’ Audrey sniffed. ‘You’ll have to forgive me, but it’s hard for me to keep up with all of Pete’s women.’
Her comment hit home and hurt. But Jenny knew that from years of going head to head with Audrey, she was better off keeping her sweet rather than taking her on. She’d do her best to win her over with humour. That used to work years ago. ‘Oh well, never mind. I’m happy to report that it’s the original and the best here.’ Jenny joked.
Her joke was met with silence. Jenny was sure she could see tumbleweeds fly across her kitchen floor. She waited for Audrey to speak, but she was much better at this game than her. Jenny couldn’t bear the silence. Plus she wanted to get back to that damn bowl of granola. Like a drug addict, she needed the crunch.
‘What can I do for you Audrey?’ Jenny asked, trying her hardest to be pleasant. ‘Pete’s gone to work already.’
‘I’ve tried ringing him, but his phone is switched off. Will you ask him to bring some of my special medicine with him when he comes to visit tomorrow?’
‘Yeah, will do.’ Jenny shoved another spoon of granola into her mouth, unable to stop herself. She mumbled, ‘What medicine is that?’
‘Never you mind. Goodbye, Jo love.’ Audrey said. And Jenny could have sworn she heard her laughing before she put the phone down. The old witch was good, she’d give her that.
The phone rang again almost immediately and she grabbed it, assuming it was Audrey once more. This time, she’d give her a piece of her mind. ‘What?’ she snapped.
‘And hello to you too.’ It was Adam’s soft Irish lilt. ‘Who put your knickers in a twist so early in the morning?’
‘Sorry, thought you were Audrey again!’ Jenny answered, delighted to hear her friend Adam’s voice.
‘Say no more.’ Adam knew only too well how much those two loved to bicker. They were too alike, that was the problem. The only saving grace was that they both loved Pete. Speaking of which . . . ‘Pete’s not answering his phone. Is he home?’
‘He’s very popular this morning. Nobody can get him. Me included,’ Jenny said. ‘Is everything okay?’
‘Yeah. Kind of. I just fancied a chat, that’s all. I miss all of you,’ Adam replied. ‘I woke up early. Dad’s gone to work.’
‘Are Belfast’s charms already wearing thin?’ Jenny was gladdened by that thought. They all wanted Adam to come home to Manchester.
‘Belfast is grand. But it doesn’t have you all.’
Jenny put her bowl down as inspiration hit her. ‘Book a flight. Come on over to visit, you can stay here with us. For a few weeks. You and Matthew.’
‘Ah, I can’t do that. Sure, I’ve only just left you all a few weeks back. And you’ve just moved back in with Pete. Not to mention that you’re due the baby soon. You don’t want us cluttering up the place.’
‘We do. I do. Anyhow, if this baby is like the last one, it won’t be in any rush to come out. I’ve weeks to go yet! Please come,’ Jenny begged. Now the thought was in her head, she wanted nothing more than to see him. Nobody knew Pete better than Adam. Maybe he could work out what was going on in his head.
‘But you’re having a baby soon . . .’ Adam said again.
‘Er, I hadn’t forgotten about that, thanks very much, Adam Williams. You’d be doing me a favour by coming. If I’m honest, I’m worried about Pete. There’s something wrong with him. But he won’t say what.’ Jenny paused and her voice cracked with emotion. ‘He needs you, Adam . . . I need you.’
‘Ah, Jen pet.’ Adam hated hearing her so distressed. Could he go back this soon? Then he thought about his row with his dad the day before. They’d barely spoken at breakfast and while he knew that they’d have to deal with it at some point, there was a merit to dodging that bullet by jumping on a flight. Not to mention the fact that he’d had six voicemails in a row from Jane, wanting to meet up. Maybe this was the perfect get-out-of-deep-and-meaningfuls that he was looking for.
‘I’ll even babysit little Adam and Matthew. You and Pete can go for pints. Like the old days,’ Jenny threw in for good measure, determined to get a yes from him.
‘Why didn’t you just start with that! I’m on my way!’ Adam joked. ‘You know what, in all seriousness, I’d love to come over. Give me a few days to sort out flights.’
CHAPTER SIX
The mermaid and the beached whale
Audrey’s Retirement Home
Jenny was pleasantly surprised. Audrey’s residential care home looked bright and welcoming. She had envisioned her in a dreary grey building, with no soul and a Nurse Ratched type roaming the corridors with a clipboard in hand. And that wouldn’t suit Audrey one little bit. But it was contrary to every pre-conceived idea she had. Sitting behind the large reception desk was a young Scottish lad called Rick, who welcomed them warmly as they signed the registrar. He gave little Adam a lollipop.
‘So that’s why he likes coming here,’ Jenny joked. Pete had brought little Adam here a few times since they’d been back, without her. She’d been avoiding this day, the unavoidable confrontation with her ex-mother-in-law.
The grounds surrounding each apartment were pretty, filled with flowers and trees to
provide shade, to the wooden benches that sat underneath them. There was a big communal room where the residents could watch movies, play cards or sing songs. And Pete told her that most weeks, special guests were brought in to entertain them all. Magicians, singers and even a comedian, on occasion.
Little Adam loved visiting his nana Audrey. There were always chocolate treats by the dozen. She always whispered in his ear, ‘What your mum doesn’t know can’t harm her.’ Oh yes, he loved his nana.
Jenny took a deep breath, steeling herself for the visit. On the drive over, Pete had made it clear that he wanted them to get on. He banged on about how close Jo and Audrey had become, and that hadn’t helped one little bit. She felt pressure coming at her from all directions.
‘I used to get on with Audrey too,’ Jenny had replied and he’d just raised one of his eyebrows.
Memories of dozens of battles fought with her mother-in-law over the years flooded her mind. She’d gone head to head with her on more than one occasion. But their relationship was complicated and had many layers. They’d also been friends. She liked her. Most of the time. And she felt Audrey liked her too.
‘Just be nice. She’s got a bit, well, frail, with her arthritis,’ Pete said.
‘I can do nice!’ Jenny replied. And she could. She’d walk in there and be nothing but charm itself.
‘Nana!’ Little Adam screamed, running into her arms. She pulled him in tight, wrapping her green cardigan around him in a blanket of grandmotherly love.
‘You’re looking well,’ Jenny said. And she meant it. Audrey’s vibrant red hair was set in soft waves, as she had always worn it, as long as she’d known her. There were a few more lines on her face, Jenny supposed, but she still looked bloody good for her age. Her hazel eyes twinkled with joy as she cuddled her grandson.
Audrey nodded, just once, then her eyes dropped to Jenny’s stomach. Without comment, she raised her cheek for a kiss from Pete, finally saying to him, ‘Hello, son.’
As Jenny waddled in after Audrey, who walked between her two big loves, Pete and little Adam, she felt like an outsider. She came here knowing that Audrey most likely hadn’t forgiven her for leaving Pete, nor for taking her grandson to the other side of the Atlantic. But when she made that decision a few years ago, she had her reasons and she had hoped Audrey would understand that.
If she could go back in time, she would. Audrey was going to have to find a way to understand and accept their past. Or they’d never move on.
A mix of lemon and bleach aromas filled her nostrils as she walked into Audrey’s small square sitting room. ‘Some things never change. Mr Sheen has been busy again,’ Jenny whispered to Pete, sniffing the air. And he laughed in response. If Aggie and Kim – from the show How Clean is Your House? – came in here this minute, Jenny doubted that they could find a spot that had even a smidgen of dust on it. Audrey would give them two a run for their money any day.
Jenny shuddered thinking of all the times Audrey had surprised them at their home over the years. She did it deliberately, Jenny was sure of it, arriving without any warning, just so she could catch her dirty knickers on the bedroom floor, or last night’s spaghetti Bolognese congealing on unwashed plates.
Maybe Pete was right. They were all older and wiser. It was time to bury the hatchet. That’s what he said. She giggled as she imagined a hatchet buried in Audrey’s head.
As if reading her mind, Pete frowned. She stifled her giggle and made a decision. If she wanted to be back in Pete’s life, both she and Audrey needed to find a way to get on again. There was nothing else to it, Jenny would have to be . . . nice.
‘Place looks great, Audrey,’ Jenny said, waving her arms around. ‘You could eat your dinner off that floor, eh!’
Audrey sniffed, loudly, just to make sure she had the room’s attention. Then she delivered the epitome of snide mother-in-law remarks. ‘Well, Jo dear, it’s just how I like to do things. Your house always plays such havoc with my allergies. The dust isn’t my friend you know . . .’
Oh you’re good, you old witch, Jenny thought. She felt Pete’s hand on her arm and realised that she was on her tippy toes, ready to pounce. Think of your blood pressure, she told herself, dropping back down on to her heels. Last week, her GP said her BP was dangerously high and right now, if he placed the machine on her wrist, she reckoned new levels would be recorded.
Audrey threw a defiant look at her, as if to say, go on, come at me.
Then Pete did this thing with his eyes that she could never resist. Puppy dog eyes, she called them. Big and wet and slushy. He just wanted everyone to get on. Her resolve to be pleasant strengthened. She could do this, for him. And for little Adam. She smiled to reassure him that she was fine. But then added a whispered warning, ‘If she calls me Jo one more time . . .’
‘Mum, it’s Jenny. Remember? Jenny,’ Pete said firmly and slowly. Jenny squeezed his hand in gratitude.
‘Did I say Jo again?’ Audrey tinkled laughter like it was the silliest gaff she’d made. ‘Oh I am forgetful. I’m so sorry, Pete. I do try my best to keep up with all these changes. But it’s not easy, at my age . . .’
‘You’re doing great, Mum,’ Pete said adoringly, moving closer to give her a quick squeeze.
She beamed up at him. Then urged them to sit down, but not before grabbing a huge bar of Dairy Milk and passing it to her grandson. ‘And here’s a little treat for you.’
‘He’s not even got his coat off and she’s shoving chocolate down his throat,’ Jenny whispered to Pete.
‘I know,’ Pete replied, smiling, missing the point. ‘Isn’t she great? Best nana ever, eh Adam?’ he shouted over to his son, who already had a full row of chocolate squares shoved in his tiny mouth.
Jenny decided to let it go. Just this once. But Pete better take him for a run outside when the sugar high kicked in. If not, the drive home would be fun.
They took a seat on the brown sofa, in front of a coffee table already laden with homemade scones, jam and cream, and a large pot of tea. It had a tea cosy on it, knitted by Audrey herself, no doubt. When Jenny looked closely at the tea cosy she realised it was actually a chicken. With its feathers covering the handle of the pot and its red beak covering the spout.
Jenny pictured picking up that chicken. If she half closed her eyes, the head looked a lot like Audrey. She imagined grabbing its scrawny neck and wringing it. She felt better almost immediately.
‘I like that, Audrey.’ She pointed to the tea cosy.
‘Thank you, dear,’ Audrey replied.
Dear was an improvement at least. Maybe they’d get through the day with no casualties after all.
And then she saw it.
Sitting on top of the mantelpiece was a large framed portrait of Pete and Jo on their wedding day. Jenny’s heart sank. Pete looked so happy and in love. And Jo was looking up at him, with adoration too.
This whole part of her husband’s life, she wasn’t part of it. She had no right to it, because she walked out. And he’d married Jo. But Pete was hers . . . everyone knew that. Since high school. Pete and Jenny, not Pete and Jo. Pete and Jo was a blip, a mistake and one that he was going to divorce.
It was and would always be Pete and Jenny.
Yet somehow or other, there was another woman, another wife, standing with her husband on her mother-in-law’s mantelpiece.
Jenny couldn’t help it. Big tears began to well up in her eyes. Damn it, damn it, she wouldn’t give Audrey the satisfaction of seeing her upset. She brushed them away angrily with her hand.
Pete was about to take a mouthful of scone, piled high with strawberry jam and clotted cream, when he saw Jenny’s tears. He followed her gaze to the photograph. His stomach plummeted, as did the scone, that fell to the floor with a dull plop.
‘Sorry, Mum,’ he said, scooping up the mess on to his side plate.
‘That’s all right son. I’ll have that out in a jiffy,’ Audrey said.
He looked at Jenny’s face. Now she looked angry as well
as sad. What the hell was his mum thinking? She knew he was in the process of divorcing Jo. He understood that she’d been upset by the news, of their separation, because she’d grown fond of Jo. But he thought she’d accepted it.
‘You need to take that down, Mum,’ he said, nodding towards the photograph. Then he turned to Jenny, ‘I’m sorry.’
Jenny couldn’t speak. She was afraid that if she did, a sob might escape in place of words.
‘I forgot that was even there,’ Audrey said, going back to her seat and delicately taking a sip of her tea. Her innocent act wasn’t fooling Jenny. This was deliberate. And in a few minutes’ time, Jenny would find out that Audrey was only warming up. She had a lot more ‘Jo’ treats in store for her.
‘You have to take that down, Mum,’ Pete repeated firmly.
‘Of course, son. I only have it there because you do look so handsome in that photograph. So in love with your beautiful bride. And what a beauty she was too. The most radiant of brides I’ve ever seen.’ Audrey stood up again and actually stroked the picture.
Pete replied, ‘I liked that suit. Got it in the Trafford Centre. It was on sale, in Mr Best. They threw in the tie for free.’
‘You look very handsome,’ Jenny managed to say. She wondered how she’d got herself into a situation where she had to compliment her ex-husband on his attire for his second marriage.
‘You’ve put a few pounds on, son, since this picture was taken,’ Audrey teased, poking him in his side.
‘Hey, you can’t say that!’ Jenny shouted, seeing the look of hurt on Pete’s face. He was sensitive about his weight.
‘I’ll say what I want, when I want, to my son,’ Audrey shouted back, moving closer towards Jenny.
Pete’s head started to pound. Shit, he’d forgotten what these two were like when they went for it. Once they got their horns locked, Kofi Annan himself would find it difficult to broker peace.
Cold Feet: The Lost Years Page 5