Cold Feet: The Lost Years

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Cold Feet: The Lost Years Page 24

by Carmel Harrington


  And then he turned around to face her.

  He had spent years blotting her out of his mind, so seeing her here, in three dimension was surreal. Over the years, whenever Rachel questioned him about her, he shut her down. There was nothing to be gained in talking about his relationship with Mary Williams. She was an interfering old witch. She’d never really loved him. She took joy in tearing him down.

  Yet looking at her now, all he could think about was how her hand had felt when it caressed away his tears, thousands of times in his youth.

  He’d imagined over the years the many things he would say to her, if by some unfortunate twist of fate, he came face to face with his mother. But all those rehearsals were a waste of time, because now he was rendered dumb.

  He looked at his father. How could he have brought her to him? Not after all she’d done to them both. And destroying Bill’s relationships with his family. And with him. He’d lost years with his father at a time when a boy needs a father most. He felt anger dance around his head, and floaters began to shimmy in front of his eyes.

  Yet as he watched her, looking at him, tremulous, all he could think of once again was that day when he was ten and she gently washed away the pain of the belt from bollicky Will, with a cold facecloth.

  ‘Son?’ She looked unsure. Scared.

  Son.

  He thought of Matthew and contemplated a world in the future, where he was not in his life. A world where Matthew would shun him, turn his back on him. A world where he was no longer allowed to be his parent.

  Son.

  He thought of Rachel, cold in the ground, but haunting his dreams, night and day. A mother, who was ripped from her child with one shuddering crash of a lorry. Rachel had fought so hard to stay with Matthew and with him, but in the end, she had no choice but to go.

  His parents had a choice.

  But despite all the things that tormented his brain, demanding answers to so many questions, they all disappeared. And instead the only thing that came out, was a quiet, anguished, single word.

  ‘Mam.’

  She took a deep breath. ‘I have no excuses. After Bill left, I reacted as I did, from a place of great pain. I was wrong to keep you from him. I know that now.’

  ‘Your mother and I have made our peace. We hurt each other and you got caught in the crossfire,’ Bill said. ‘We’re both to blame.’

  Mary looked at Bill and nodded her thanks to him. He was helping her. He was shouldering the blame alongside her and she felt lighter for it.

  ‘The guilt of who I became after we split up changed me. Made me angry and bitter. And when we fought, when you left, I felt like it was what I deserved. I took Bill from you. So therefore it was only right that I lost you too. I’m a stupid, stupid woman. I was wrong.’ Mary watched him intently. ‘I don’t expect you to forgive me. Because I’ll never forgive myself for all those wasted years. But I want you to know that I’m here for you and Matthew. If you need me. I won’t force myself on you. I don’t have that right. But I’ll stand, silently, by your side, waiting for you to let me know, when . . . if . . . you want me.’

  Adam looked at her, then at his father and back to his mother. He felt tiredness seep through his body again. He couldn’t take any more of this. The emotional battering from ghosts from his past and his present were too much. He just wanted it to end.

  A mother never stops loving their child. That’s what the doctor had said, at the hospital, when Matthew fell.

  He thought of Rachel and Matthew, and how his son would never get the chance to fall out and make up with his mother. And he felt pain pierce him, cut him in two. Yes, it was a waste.

  No more.

  He took the first step towards her, and her eyes were round with surprise. She moved a step towards him and then they ran into each other’s arms.

  She smelled as she always had done. She felt as she always had done. And as her arms wrapped their way around him, he thought, for the first time in a long time, that this feels like it could be home.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

  Marching creepy crawlies and Nurse Ratched

  Josh’s School, Didsbury, Manchester

  A series of unfortunate incidents resulted in Robyn answering the call from Josh’s school principal, which in turn led to one of the most bizarre moments of her life.

  Her boyfriend’s ex-wife in her kitchen, combing her hair.

  Earlier that morning, David had left for work, late, and in his haste, left his mobile phone behind him. The fact that he was leaving late had been her fault. She’d looked at him, standing in her bedroom, towel hung low on his hips, and she’d been struck by something she’d not felt in a long time. She didn’t just love this guy, she loved every part of him. He made her laugh, he made her feel safe, he made her feel sexy, he made her feel intelligent . . . he made her feel.

  An hour later when he ran out the door, teasing her that she’d get him fired, neither of them noticed the phone sitting on the kitchen counter top. And by the time she did notice it, David was long gone with no way for her to contact him. So she decided to bring the phone with her to work. She figured she would meet David later that day to pass it on.

  The first hiccup of that plan was that David was in fact not in his office all day, and incommunicado. He was meeting a new client who needed some TLC. So his plan was to spend the day shadowing him, as he went about his business.

  They both played a bit of phone tag for an hour or two, laughingly leaving messages for each other. David finally admitted defeat, suggesting to Robyn that they meet after work for an early supper.

  As he said in his last message, ‘How much trouble can I get into without a phone for one day!’

  Famous last words.

  Robyn felt inordinately giddy at the new plan to meet up that evening. They hadn’t been supposed to see each other today and she kissed his phone for its part in a much more fun evening for her than the one she’d thought was on the cards.

  Later that afternoon, she was knee-deep reading a deposition from the husband of one of her clients – a young woman who had signed a pre-nuptial agreement in the early flushes of love. The silly, naive woman was now paying the price for that. Because if Robyn couldn’t find a way to break the pre-nup, she would leave their marriage without a penny. And having spent a few hours in the same room as the husband, hours that she would never get back, she was determined to find a loophole. That girl deserved danger money for having put up with an arrogant buffoon like him as long as she had.

  When David’s phone rang, mid-afternoon, Robyn answered it, assuming it was him again.

  ‘Hello, darling,’ she’d said huskily.

  ‘I’m looking for David Marsden,’ a stern voice clipped back at her.

  It was Josh’s head teacher, a woman without a sense of humour, it seemed, when Robyn apologised, saying she thought it was her boyfriend on the phone. Mrs Joyce demanded to know where David was. David had once jokingly told Robyn that Mrs Joyce made Nurse Ratched look like Mary Poppins. She was beginning to see what he meant.

  Robyn gritted her teeth, deciding it was perhaps best if she didn’t remind the woman that manners cost nothing. She explained politely that David was temporarily not available and suggested the school call Karen if there was a problem.

  ‘We’ve tried that. But her phone has gone to voicemail. Everyone is too busy these days for their children. It’s not good enough,’ Mrs Joyce complained.

  That felt harsh and in the case of David and Karen’s children, vastly untrue. Robyn was amazed at how much those two did for their kids.

  ‘Have you left a voicemail for him?’ Robyn asked, fighting the urge to make a response to her outrageous comment. ‘He’s ringing in to check his messages throughout the day. I’m sure he’ll call you back very soon.’

  ‘Soon is not good enough,’ Mrs Joyce snapped. ‘I need to speak to someone immediately.’

  Robyn ran through her possibilities. Could she suggest one of David and Karen’s fri
ends? Pete or Jenny? Adam, perhaps. She didn’t think she had their numbers. And besides, was that even allowed in schools? Surely you needed to be a family member?

  She sighed, feeling sorry for Josh. To him she was the quintessential evil stepmother. But it appeared that right now, she was also all he’d got.

  ‘I’m David’s girlfriend. What do you need?’ she asked.

  ‘Well, it’s a bit delicate. He needs to go home. Now,’ Nurse Ratched said.

  ‘Is he ill?’ Robyn asked. ‘Does he need to see a doctor?’

  ‘Not a doctor as such. But he does need to go home. I’ll explain when somebody comes to collect him.’

  ‘And it can’t wait until you hear back from his parents? I’m sure they will call you any minute.’ Robyn looked down at the deposition in front of her. She was sure she about to crack this, she just needed a few more hours.

  ‘No, it most certainly cannot wait. Someone needs to come to the school immediately.’ Mrs Joyce was firm. ‘It’s urgent.’

  Robyn told her she’d be there in twenty minutes. The pre-nup would have to wait till later on, or the next day. She rang David’s secretary and asked her to pass on a message to him, if he happened to call into the office. She also asked his secretary to keep trying Karen’s number at work. She smiled as she heard the delicious anticipation of gossip in her secretary’s voice as he asked her if all was okay.

  ‘Oh, you wouldn’t believe what’s going on,’ Robyn said to him as she walked out the door. She laughed out loud, knowing he was driving himself mad, trying to work out what the drama was. He was so easy to wind up.

  When she arrived at Josh’s school, she half expected Karen to be there already, that she’d had a wasted journey. But both parents were still missing in action.

  She walked into the head teacher’s office and felt a trickle of unease. Funny how certain things can make you feel guilty for no reason. Same whenever she saw a policeman. She immediately felt like she was hiding something and had to fight the urge to run in the opposite direction. She shook her head at how silly she was being. How scary could Nurse Ratched really be?

  She heard his tears before she saw him and she quickened her pace. Oh Josh!

  He was sitting on a plastic chair, wearing a girl’s Barbie-pink hat that looked ridiculous on him. Fat tears splashed down his face.

  Despite the fact that they had had a precarious start to their relationship, her heart melted when she saw his chest heave as he sobbed.

  ‘Whatever is the matter, Josh?’ she asked, kneeling down beside him. Her irritation toward Mrs Joyce trebled. How dare she sit behind her desk, so cold and remote, when a little boy was in so much distress? And what on earth was he doing with a bloody pink hat on?

  ‘I want my mummy and daddy,’ he hiccupped back to her. ‘Is Daddy with you?’ His little eyes were wide with hope and she wished with all her might that she could take away whatever fear and pain he was in.

  She stroked his hand and whispered to him, ‘I know you do, buddy, and I’ve left messages with them both to come get you. In fact, I bet they are on their way. But for now, I’m all you’ve got. And I’d like to help you. Would that be okay?’

  He looked at her, his big blue eyes, filling up with fresh tears and his bottom lip wobbled, as sobs racked his little body again.

  She pulled him to her and hugged him tight. His two hands crept up around her neck and he nestled his head under her chin. She rocked him back and forth, wishing she had more practice at this. When his sobs quietened down, she looked up at the head teacher, who was staring at them both with a solemn expression. ‘What happened to him?’ she demanded.

  Mrs Joyce shuddered as she spoke. ‘I wouldn’t get so close to the child, if I were you. His teacher noticed he has head lice. His head is crawling with them.’

  She said the words like she was telling her he had the bubonic plague.

  Despite herself, Robyn felt herself shudder, then her scalp began to itch at the mere mention of the crawlies. She remembered the pain of her mother yanking a metal comb through her long hair when she was a young girl. She also remembered how scared she’d felt and once again, her heart filled with sympathy for Josh.

  His sobs grew louder. ‘Mrs Joyce said that my head was disgusting and full of creepy crawlies. Are they going to eat my brains? I don’t want them to eat my brains . . .’ he wailed.

  Robyn could not believe her ears. ‘Mrs Joyce said that to you?’ she asked, incredulous.

  He nodded then buried his head in her shoulder again.

  Robyn turned to face the head teacher, who, for the first time since she walked in, didn’t look quite so sure of herself.

  ‘I never said anything about them eating his brains. That’s his imagination and I won’t be responsible for that. But you have to understand that we cannot allow a child with head lice in the school. We have a reputation to uphold here. The last time an outbreak occurred, we had parents up in arms, threatening to pull their children.’

  ’You called a child disgusting,’ Robyn spat the words out.

  Mrs Joyce blanched.

  Robyn lifted Josh off her lap and looked him in the eye. ‘Nothing is going to eat your brains. It couldn’t be further from the truth. I had head lice when I was a little girl and while I know you think I’m a bit of a monster . . .’ she smiled so he knew she was teasing, ‘I turned out okay, didn’t I?’

  He nodded, his eyes round with shock at her words.

  Robyn turned towards the head teacher and said loudly, ‘In fact, I turned out to be a lawyer. Some would say a rather good one. I do enjoy a good litigation case.’

  ‘I don’t think I used the word disgusting . . .’ Mrs Joyce tried to take back her mean words.

  ‘I’d hazard a guess that Mrs Joyce herself had head lice at some point. Am I right?’ She turned to the head teacher, who pointedly ignored her question. ‘I thought so,’ Robyn declared. ‘Now, here’s what we are going to do. We are going to bring you home to my place and Mrs Joyce is going to ring your mummy and daddy and tell them that you are with me. Don’t worry about a thing, we’ll get this sorted in no time.’

  He smiled tentatively, his sobs reducing every moment, until eventually they ended on one big hiccup.

  Robyn gave his hand a little squeeze, then walked towards Mrs Joyce. She looked her squarely in the eye and said, ‘Imagine what would happen if this story went into the public domain. Head teacher bullies child. The papers would eat up a story like that.’

  ‘I beg your pardon!’ Mrs Joyce blustered.

  ‘Oh no, I beg yours,’ Robyn said, raising her voice a fraction. ‘I’d go so far as to call it harassment, picking on a poor child over a problem not of his own making – I’m sure a certain court would agree with me.’ She looked around the room and waved a hand. ‘Where are the other children? If Josh has head lice, then he got it from someone else. Why is he the only child in here?’

  Mrs Joyce stood up, opened her mouth, but had no retort for her.

  ‘It’s your responsibility to follow anti-discrimination law, you know. I think I’d enjoy the opportunity to take you on in court.’

  Mrs Joyce found her voice. ‘Hold on a moment.’

  ‘No, you hold on. I suggest you apologise to Josh immediately. And, by the way, I’d like a copy of your school’s Behaviour Policy. I assume you have one, as it’s a legal requirement? I’d hate to think you were breaking the law, Mrs Joyce, as well as bullying young children.’

  ‘I resent the implication of bullying!’

  ‘Oh, I’m not implying anything. I’m stating facts. And I would hazard a guess that your parents would be quite interested to hear how lovingly and sensitively you deal with issues like these. Head lice is part and parcel of going to school. Not nice, but never the child’s fault. And as for your despicable, judgemental comment about David and Karen not answering your call, they are both at work. Juggling ridiculous hours to maintain an income that can pay extortionate fees for a school like this. Supposedly
one of the finest schools in Didsbury, isn’t that what you boast? I would question that.’ Robyn walked back to Josh, who was staring open-mouthed at her. ‘Let’s go home, buddy.’

  He didn’t move, his feet seemed locked to the ground.

  ‘What’s up, buddy? Is it that you don’t want to come with me?’ Robyn asked. She should have expected that. To him, she was the horrible person who took his daddy away from his mummy. And even though there was no truth in that, it would always be how he saw things. The poor little fella.

  He shook his head at her assumption. ‘The other kids will laugh at me if I go out wearing this hat. But Mrs Joyce said I wasn’t to take it off, until I got home.’ He pointed to the pink woolly monstrosity. Robyn had always hated bubblegum pink and never more so than right now.

  Robyn whipped it off his blond curls.

  ‘But the crawlies will jump into your hair. That’s what Mrs Joyce said,’ Josh whispered.

  ‘I’ll take my chances,’ Robyn declared.

  When he still didn’t move, she said to him, ‘How about a piggyback ride?’ She’d watched David give him these dozens of times and she knew he loved them. Daddy train, David called it. ‘Robyn train?’ She winked at him.

  He smiled in delight and jumped up on her back, clasping his hands around her neck.

  As she walked out the door, she flung the hat back towards Mrs Joyce and snorted with laughter when she saw how the head teacher jumped back in fright.

  Half an hour later, they’d made a quick pit stop in the local pharmacy and Josh was now sitting beside her kitchen sink, on one of the breakfast chairs next to the island. She’d placed a towel around his little body and was painstakingly combing through his blond hair, strand by strand, removing the lice one by one. She planned to put the treatment in her own hair, just in case, they had done any moonlit flits during the Robyn train ride!

  ‘Are they moving?’ Josh asked.

  ‘No,’ Robyn lied. ‘The magic potion on your head has stunned them all.’ She was appalled and fascinated at how the little things were running for dear life as the lotion began to coat them.

 

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