by Linda Green
I breathed. For what seemed like the first time in minutes. And all I could think, as I looked around at my family, was how ridiculous it was that we were all still wearing our paper hats.
So I came downstairs and he had Page Three open on the breakfast table and he drew a circle in green felt tip around the girl’s tummy at the top of the thong and said, ‘She needs to get rid of that, she’s got a bit of an overhang there.’
I looked at it. I mean, there was nothing there. Her belly looked perfectly flat to me. And then I looked at him, all sixteen stone of him, most of it hanging over the top of his trousers.
13
‘Is Tilda OK?’ asked Josh, the first to break the silence.
I nodded, feeling her little chest heaving against me, and picked out the bits of glass I could see in her hair.
‘I’m sorry,’ he said, his voice small and shaky. ‘I’m really sorry.’ He pushed his chair back, got up and walked out of the kitchen.
I listened to his footsteps on the stairs. To his bedroom door shutting behind him. To the hurt that seeped out under it. Matilda was still clinging to me.
‘Do you think I’ve got it all out?’ I asked Chris, handing him the three shards of glass I’d found.
‘I don’t know,’ he said. ‘I’ll get a comb. We’ll go through it.’
I nodded. Barbara was already on her way back from the kitchen with a dustpan and brush. We were doing that thing British people did in crises. Coping stoically without a mention of what had gone on before.
Barbara swept all the big pieces of glass on the floor into the dustpan while I sat holding Matilda. Stroking her back. Making soothing noises. Chris returned with the comb and a piece of card. He ran the comb gently through Matilda’s hair. Once or twice there was a tiny sound as a fragment dropped out on to the card which he held underneath.
Still Matilda said nothing. She didn’t even complain when the comb pulled on her tangles. Just gulped for air and clung on tight to me.
Barbara brought the vacuum cleaner in. ‘I’m going to go over floor,’ she said. ‘Make sure I’ve got it all up.’
Chris continued working on the other side of Matilda’s hair. He didn’t make eye contact with me once, but stayed entirely focused on the task in hand. Eventually he stepped back. ‘That’s everything I can find. Might be a good idea to wash her hair, though, just to be on the safe side.’
I nodded. ‘Let’s go upstairs,’ I said to Matilda. ‘We’ll get you all clean and changed. You’ll feel better then.’
Matilda peeled her damp face off my jumper. ‘We haven’t even had our Christmas pudding yet,’ she said.
I nodded and stroked her hair, surveying the remnants of the Christmas dinner on the table. Half-eaten potatoes and prostrate parsnips littered the dinner plates like casualties of war on a battlefield.
‘Tell you what,’ I said. ‘After we’ve got you sorted, why don’t we come down and eat Christmas pudding?’
Matilda nodded, her face brightening a fraction. ‘All of us?’ she asked. ‘Will we all eat it together?’
‘Nearly all of us,’ I said. ‘I don’t think Josh will be hungry.’
‘He’s never really liked Christmas pudding, has he?’ said Matilda.
‘No, love. Not really.’
* * *
I didn’t say anything to her about what had happened until I’d washed her hair in the shower and she was in the bath, enveloped womb-like in warm water, with a few drops of lavender oil thrown in for good measure.
‘I’m really sorry, love,’ I said, kneeling next to the bath, ‘about what happened just now. You shouldn’t have had to see or hear any of that.’
‘Why did she change?’ Matilda asked. ‘She was really nice at first.’
‘I think she had a text message which upset her, love. And she had too much to drink. Unfortunately, adults can get very upset and angry when they’ve had too much alcohol.’
‘Had Daddy had too much to drink?’
‘No, love.’
‘So why did he get angry?’
I sighed. ‘Because he’s very protective of you and Josh. Of all of us, really. He didn’t like her saying bad things.’
‘So why did you let her come here? She spoilt Christmas dinner for everyone.’
‘I know, love. But Josh wanted to be with her on Christmas Day, and I thought it would be nicer if she came here than if Josh went to her house. Only, sometimes, adults get things wrong.’
‘She won’t be coming next year, will she?’
‘No.’
‘Is Josh ever going to see her again?’
‘I don’t know.’
Matilda sat for a moment staring at the tiles opposite. The troubled look on her face remained.
I wondered if I should say anything more. It was hard to know how much she had understood of what had been said down there.
‘Are there things you’re still not sure about?’ I asked.
She nodded her head.
‘You can ask me anything, you know that.’
‘Can I still open my present from her?’
‘Yes, love,’ I said, managing a faint smile. ‘Of course you can.’
* * *
When we got back downstairs, Barbara had cleared away the debris of lunch.
‘I’ve saved what I can, love,’ she whispered to me. ‘We can always have turkey sandwiches for tea.’
I nodded and squeezed her hand. ‘Where’s Chris?’ I asked.
‘In the lounge. He’s not said a word since.’
‘Has he been up to see Josh?’
Barbara shook her head.
‘Matilda, why don’t you pop and play with your presents for a bit, while we get the pudding ready?’
‘OK,’ she said and went through to the lounge.
If anyone could get Chris out of the place he was in right now, it was Matilda.
‘Can you warm up the pudding for me, please?’ I asked Barbara. ‘I’m just going to pop upstairs.’
I knocked on Josh’s bedroom door.
‘I don’t want anything else to eat,’ he called out.
‘I know,’ I said. ‘I wanted to check you were OK.’
I waited to be told where to go. He said nothing. I pushed open the door. Josh was lying on his bed, staring up at the ceiling, his eyes red and puffy, the sound of something loud and thrashy coming from his earphones.
I sat down on the end of the bed. ‘Matilda’s fine, love,’ I said. ‘I think it was the shock more than anything.’
Josh turned his iPod off. ‘She didn’t have any scratches?’
I shook my head. ‘I’m sorry,’ I said. ‘It was a bad idea to invite your mum here.’
‘So why did you suggest it?’ His tone was hurt rather than angry.
I sighed and shut my eyes for a second. ‘I was trying to keep everyone happy. Obviously it didn’t work.’
‘It wasn’t your fault,’ said Josh after a while.
‘Well, I’m really sorry, anyway. It should never have happened.’
‘Dad shouldn’t have started on her either. Not when she was in that state.’
‘I know. It was hard for him, though. I should have realised how hard it would be.’
Josh lay for a while, staring at the ceiling. ‘They hate each other, don’t they?’
I put my hand on his shin, rubbed it a little. ‘I don’t think it’s really hate. Just leftover hurt. And that comes from loving someone. What you’ve got to remember is that they did love each other once, when they had you.’
‘Whatever, it doesn’t matter. I’m not going to be allowed to see her now, am I?’
‘Do you want to see her?’
‘I don’t know. Not right at this moment, I don’t. Not after what she’s done. But she’s still my mum.’
‘I understand that.’
‘I’ve never seen her like that before. I don’t ever want to drink, if that’s what it does to you.’
‘It doesn’t do that to everyone. It’s only
if you don’t know when to stop. Or if you use it to try to blot out your problems.’
‘You think she’s got problems?’
‘I think most people have.’
Josh sighed and propped himself up on his elbows. ‘The text was from her boyfriend, wasn’t it?’
‘I imagine so. Though he doesn’t seem much of a boyfriend.’
‘I don’t know why people bother with relationships, if it makes them that unhappy.’
‘I’ll remind you of that one day,’ I said.
‘It’s true. It only ever seems to lead to rows.’
‘Not for everyone. Tom seems very happy with Alicia.’
‘Yeah, but they’ve only been going out for a bit. And they’re still at that sick-making lovey-dovey stage. Wait till they have some big fallout and I have to put up with Tom being a miserable git for weeks.’
I smiled at him, wanting to say the ‘Better to have loved and lost’ line but deciding I’d sound way too much like a relationship counsellor if I did.
‘Are you sure you won’t come down for some Christmas pudding?’ I asked.
Josh shook his head. ‘No, thanks. I’m really not hungry.’
‘You’ll come down later, though? For the film. Matilda will complain like mad if you’re not there, and she’ll end up making us all watch Santa Paws again.’
‘OK,’ said Josh.
When I got back downstairs the pudding was ready, and Barbara was about to dish up.
‘Is Josh not joining us?’ she asked.
I shook my head.
‘She should never have been allowed anywhere near him,’ Barbara said.
‘I’m sorry. I had no idea it would turn out like this.’
‘The trouble with nice people like you,’ said Barbara, taking my hand and patting it, ‘is you don’t seem to realise how horrible other people can be.’
‘She’s his mother, Barbara. She deserved a chance.’
‘No,’ said Barbara, her eyes stern, the corners of her mouth for once neutral. ‘You’re more of a mother than she ever was. Blood means nothing in the end, you know. Not compared to love.’
Matilda came running through to the kitchen with a princess glove puppet on her hand.
‘Look,’ said Matilda. ‘She got me another puppet.’
Chris was standing behind her in the doorway. I could practically hear his skin bristling.
‘That’s nice, love,’ I said.
‘When are you going to open yours?’ she asked.
‘I don’t know. Let’s not worry about that now, eh? Pop that down and come and have some Christmas pudding.’
* * *
Josh came down for tea later. I told him we’d have turkey sandwiches while watching the film. Anything to avoid sitting around the kitchen table again and pretending everything was OK.
He chose Finding Nemo. It had been his favourite film when he was a kid. I think he’d related to the fact that Nemo, like him, didn’t have a mum.
I remembered watching it with him and Chris at the cinema not long after we’d got married. Wondering where the hell I was going to fit into a family with a father and son relationship as tight as the one we were watching on screen. And knowing at the point where Marlin and Nemo had been reunited, and I’d turned to see Chris sitting with tears rolling down his cheeks, that whatever he felt for me, it was nothing compared to the love he felt for his son.
Chris took a deep breath as Josh loaded the DVD. I wasn’t sure he’d be up to watching it either, but I knew we couldn’t say anything. It met all the criteria. Matilda loved it too.
And I sensed that Josh had chosen it specially. It was his cinematic equivalent of daubing everyone with antiseptic.
Matilda cuddled up between me and Josh on the sofa. The curtains were drawn. The door firmly shut. Our family was safe now.
‘Can you fast-forward the bit at the beginning?’ she asked.
I knew which bit she meant, of course. The bit where the barracuda came along and ate Coral and all the eggs, bar Nemo.
Josh nodded and hit the fast-forward button.
It was as if Coral had never existed. And I wished like hell you could do that in real life.
* * *
‘I’m sorry,’ I said when Chris returned from dropping Barbara back home later that night.
He said nothing, simply took his boots off, hung up his jacket and walked through to the kitchen. I followed him, shutting the door behind me in case anyone upstairs was still awake.
‘I mean it. I’m really sorry. I didn’t think –’
‘No,’ said Chris, turning to face me, ‘because you wouldn’t listen to me.’
‘I did listen.’
‘Well, you didn’t take any notice of what I said.’
‘I was trying to make the best of a bad hand. I didn’t want you and Matilda to be upset if Josh went to hers for lunch.’
‘But we were only in that situation to start with because you wanted to give Lydia a second chance.’
‘For Josh’s sake, yes.’
‘And Josh is happy now, is he? This has all worked out for the best?’
I sighed. ‘I said I’m sorry. What more do you want me to do?’
‘To stop doing it.’
‘What?’
‘Trying to mend people. Couples, families, whatever. Not everyone can be mended, you know.’
‘So what, I’m supposed to let people carry on hating each other?’
‘Yes, if that’s what they want to do.’
‘But what about Josh? He didn’t hate his mother. Not really. It was simply that he’d never had the chance to get to know her.’
‘Because she ran off and left him. Shit happens, Ali. And sometimes you just have to leave it alone.’
He walked over to the sink, staring out of the mullioned windows into the darkness beyond. I sat down at the kitchen table and held my head in my hands. I tried very hard not to cry. But I’d already been trying very hard not to cry for most of the day. Chris came over to me and rubbed my shoulders. Kissed me on the top of my head.
‘Sorry,’ he said. ‘I shouldn’t have had a go at you. Only this whole thing has done my head in.’
‘No, you’re right,’ I said. ‘I guess I do like to try to fix things.’
‘The thing is,’ said Chris, ‘you had no idea what you were dealing with.’
‘How could I? You won’t talk about her. There’s so much I don’t know. So many gaps that need filling in.’
‘No,’ said Chris. ‘They don’t. It’s the past, and you have to leave it there. I drew a line under it when I married you, and I don’t want to go raking it all back up again. You’re my family now. You and Josh and Matilda, and that’s all that matters. And when I said I didn’t want Josh to have anything to do with her, it was because I knew he’d end up getting hurt again. And as it turned out, it wasn’t just him but Matilda too.’
‘I know, and I feel awful about that. But it was a no-win situation.’
‘Well, at least we haven’t got to worry about him seeing her again now he knows exactly what she’s capable of.’
‘I think it’s too early to say that.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘He’s pretty mad at her right now, but I’m not sure he’s ready to say goodbye to her either.’
‘He hasn’t got any choice. Mum was right. She’s not coming anywhere near our family again. And none of our family are going anywhere near her.’
‘That’s easier said than done. He’s sixteen, Chris. He goes out on his own. He’s got a mobile, he goes online. We can’t do some Big Brother thing on him.’
‘No, but he can be told very clearly that he’s not to have any contact with her. And we can explain what the consequences will be if he doesn’t go along with that.’
I shook my head.
‘What?’
‘I just don’t think that’s the approach to take with Josh. We’ve got to support him through this, not ban him from seeing her. It will turn
him against us, if we do.’
‘There you go again,’ said Chris, throwing his hands up into the air. ‘Assuming we can do this with some kind of softly, softly approach. Look where that got us, Ali. She’s already ruined Christmas. I’m not having her spoil another single day in any of our lives.’
He walked past me, his eyes burning dark, his breath hot. I heard him go upstairs. The bathroom door clicked shut. He was going to bed. Without me. On Christmas night. That was where we were at. I could have gone after him. Tried to reason. Tried to smooth things over. But I knew Chris well enough to know that it was pointless. I had to let him burn himself out. I would try again tomorrow, when the embers might just be cool enough to touch.
I got up and wandered into the lounge. All was dark apart from the lights on the Christmas tree, it being completely oblivious of the fact this was far from a twinkly house tonight. The unopened presents lay under it. Ours to Lydia. Lydia’s to the rest of us, apart from Matilda, of course.
I knelt down next to the tree and found the present with my name on the gift tag. It was soft, very light. I peeled off the tape at one end and pulled out the contents, opening the layer of tissue paper. It was a scarf. One of those delicate alpaca wool ones from the designer shop in town. They were expensive. I knew that. It was why I’d never asked for one, though I’d often admired them through the window. And Lydia, of all people, had bought one for me. I held it up to my face, the softness of the wool immediately soothing. I had no idea what I was going to do with it. I didn’t see how I could wear it, not with Chris knowing where it had come from. I slipped it back into the wrapping paper and resealed the tape.
I was about to go when I noticed Chris’s name on the gift tag attached to the present next to it. I picked it up. The one downside about LPs was that you could never really disguise them when wrapping one as a present. I held it in my hands for a moment, knowing I shouldn’t. But also knowing that, come the morning, Chris would probably put it straight in a bag for Oxfam. He certainly wouldn’t open it.
I peeled the tape back and slid the LP out. It was The Division Bell by Pink Floyd. He already had it, I was pretty sure of that. But I also had a vague recollection of him saying it was a replacement for one he’d lost. I opened up the gatefold sleeve and carefully slid out the record. It was made of marbled blue vinyl. I didn’t know much about these things but I knew enough to know it was likely to be pretty rare. It was only as I went to put it back in the wrapping paper that I noticed the note inside. Written on a sheet of spiral-bound notepaper was the message – ‘Returned to its rightful owner – with apologies for the long loan!’