Mothers and Daughters

by Fleming, Leah

  ‘Isn’t it about time you washed your hair? It looks a mess,’ Gran nagged, handing her a towel.

  Connie didn’t need anyone to tell her she looked a mess, a stick insect.

  ‘And put something on a little more cheerful. You look as if you’re going to a funeral.’

  ‘I’ll wear what I want,’ Connie snapped, knowing Esme was right. All she wore was grey or black because she felt dead inside, colourless, drab, a walking ghost, and sometimes the urge to end it all suggested itself again in her mind. This time do it properly. Go where no one will find you. Buy a bottle of painkillers and some gin, anything to relieve the pain in your heart. It was as if she was walking under a heavy grey cloud that hovered over everything she did.

  Walking through Sutter’s Copse with the autumn leaves drifting down on her like confetti, she sobbed. Where was little Anna now? Why had she been so weak and let her go?

  Gran shoved platefuls of pies and stews, soup and puddings before Connie, trying to make up for all that had happened but she was too choked to eat anything. Gran prattled on about Freddie, Connie’s dad, as if he was still a little boy. I didn’t know him, she thought, and he would never know me. I abandoned my baby as he abandoned us.

  Perhaps if she went to see the doctor it might help, but then the look on Paul Jerviss’s face when she was in labour froze her resolve. Lily had said he was back at Grimbleton Royal, finishing off his training. How would she cope if she bumped into him in a corridor? She couldn’t face anyone she knew. There must be other places to seek help.

  It was Dr Friedmann who suggested she went to a new surgery across town where there were a team of doctors to choose from. He’d heard one of his colleagues there was good with patients with ‘depression’.

  ‘I’m not mental,’ Connie snapped. ‘I’m just tired. You could give me something to pep me up.’

  ‘You’ve had enough uppers, young lady. You need help and you know I can’t do it, not since Su and I got together. I’m family now. Dr Blackie is the man for you. He’ll give you time and prescribe, if necessary. He’s got a special interest in the mind and mental health.’

  There was no choice but to make an appointment and register as a new patient. She was desperate for an instant cure, but one look at the strange little man sitting behind an enormous desk with half-moon glasses sliding down his nose and she was not so sure.

  ‘How may I help, young lady?’

  ‘I’m not sure … Everything’s an effort. I ran away and came back home in disgrace. I was fed up and took an overdose … an accidental one,’ she lied.

  ‘Tell me how you’re feeling now,’ he asked.

  ‘Terrible. Can’t be bothered with anyone or anything.’

  ‘How do you intend to keep yourself – live off benefit, get a job … or sponge off your family?’ he challenged her. ‘I hear you’re related to Dr Friedmann.’

  ‘What’s that got to do with anything?’

  ‘Don’t be so tetchy,’ he shot back. ‘I’m trying to get the full picture.’

  ‘I don’t want the whole world knowing I’m here,’ she argued.

  ‘You are very defensive, Miss Winstanley. Why are you so angry?’ He was not ruffled by her outburst.

  ‘I’m not angry. I’m tired. I don’t want to talk about it any more, thank you. I just need something to buck me up so I can make some decisions.’

  ‘I can give you something but I do want to know why you are so angry with the world. Who has hurt you, or are you angry with yourself? In my experience, girls who overdose are crying out for help. Help with what?’

  She didn’t like his emphasis on girls and being a silly teenager. He was poking and prying into her life and she wasn’t having any of it.

  ‘I had a boyfriend and he let me down. I thought I was going to college but I’m not fit for anything,’ she offered, hoping to put him off.

  ‘So now you are sulking?’ He smiled as if he had discovered the key to her sadness.

  ‘I suppose so. Nothing has gone right this last year and now I’m home, it’s not the same.’

  ‘I don’t suppose it is, young lady. So why stay around?’

  ‘I’ve no job, no money and no energy. It’s an effort to get dressed of a morning or eat. I don’t want to face the day, any day.’

  ‘That does sound like depression to me and we have tablets to lift that mood, but you’re a little young to have given up on life.’

  ‘I’ve not given up. I just don’t see a way through the fog.’ That bit was true enough.

  ‘Then let’s lift the fog and it’ll be clearer.’ He wrote out a prescription. ‘Come back in two weeks and let’s see if this helps your mood.’ He smiled, satisfied.

  Connie snatched the paper and fled out into the waiting room. She’d got a bottle full of pills and hadn’t told him a thing. Round one to her. His writing was atrocious and she couldn’t read what the pills were but Jacob would know. She’d give them a try and if they were useless, then she’d swallow the lot and finish things off properly this time.

  Rosa read her mother’s letter with concern. Maria had seen Connie in the street one afternoon and she’d almost ignored her, looking like a zombie, like an old woman, a shadow of her former self. The family were worried about her. She hadn’t gone to university and was back working in Neville’s shop but she was no advert for Health and Herbs, not the state she was in.

  Perhaps she ought to write to her and tell her all her news … perhaps not. She didn’t want to upset her again. She sat in her dressing room smiling at her own image in the mirror. Her face was beaming, blushing, her eyes bright. She was in love and it was so unexpected and exciting.

  They were entertaining on the ship bound for Australia. It was a good crew, lots of handsome officers, some nice passengers too. She and Mel danced and sang in the troupe. The weather was fabulous and she’d got her sea legs. It was a huge ship with a first-class deck and top entertainers, magicians, comedians, top-notch pianist and big band, and a guest rock artist with his band.

  There were rumours that Gerry and the Pacemakers were on board but when she went to watch the sound check rehearsal who should she bump into but Marty Gorman, strumming up a storm on his guitar. God! He was gorgeous! She’d forgotten how good he was on stage and she stared up at him in disbelief.

  ‘Up the Grasshoppers!’ she yelled, and he looked down and smiled.

  ‘Are they still in the First Division? Hey, don’t I know you from somewhere?’

  ‘Nice try, but yes, you do. Our Lady of Sorrows … one of the bumblebees. I knew your brother, Vincent … in my class. Rosa Santini – you knew my friend.’

  ‘You’re one of Connie’s mates? How is she?’ He ruffled his hair with his hand as if he was nervous.

  ‘Fine, no thanks to you,’ she snapped waltzing off.

  ‘Wait!’ he cried, jumping off the podium. ‘I can explain. I had to strike out on my own. I didn’t mean to upset anyone.’

  ‘Well, you did, and her family were furious with her when she got back.’

  ‘I’m sorry. Give her my best when you see her again. Did she do her exams in the end?’

  Rosa nodded but she wasn’t going to let him off the hook ‘I’ve not seen her for yonks, but you could sing a few of her songs and help get her name on some song sheets. She’s already had one stolen from her.’

  ‘How come?’

  Connie told him all about Shady Sadie and ‘Colours of My Love’.

  ‘I have one or two of hers but they’re not my style now. Fancy a drink?’

  ‘No, thanks … things to do.’ Rosa tore herself away, trying to play it cool. How could she even think of chatting up Connie’s old flame?

  The flowers came every night before the show: roses, pretty bouquets from the florist’s shop flown in from South Africa; wonderful exotic blooms, oranges, golds and crimson.

  Mel was green with envy. ‘Treat ’em mean, keep ’em keen, is it?’

  ‘Shipboard romances don’t last; you sh
ould know that by now,’ Rosa argued, but she crept at the back of the theatre none the less to see his act most nights when she was free.

  Would Connie mind if she had a secret fling? It was all over with them but it was only a year ago. She didn’t want to upset Con, but what the eye didn’t see … They were young, full of lust and miles from shore. Why shouldn’t she have a good time? It wouldn’t last. She’d seen enough of these stars to know they had a girl at every gig, hotel room and house, but she was curious. What a feather in her cap to make out with Ricky Romero, the Gypsy King, even if he was just Marty Gorman from Roper Avenue. There were still three more weeks before they docked. Perhaps it was time to let her guard down and give him the once-over. Nothing too heavy, just a bit of fun before he set off on his tour down under and she cruised back home. All work and no play was a mug’s game, especially aboard an ocean-going liner. Connie would never know a thing …

  Jacob made Connie give the pills to Gran when she got home. He’d left instructions that she was to be treated like a child and doled them out one at a time. He needn’t have bothered, for they were useless. If she was tired before, now she was exhausted, ten times more lethargic, and dry-mouthed, sleeping night and day, dragging her limbs back and forth, her lips unable to articulate words. She felt like one of those victims in a horror movie, night of the living dead.

  ‘I can’t be doing with these,’ she complained when she returned to see Dr Blackie, plonking the packet on his desk. ‘I can’t think straight. Dr Friedmann wonders if the dosage is too high.’

  The doctor wasn’t impressed with her diagnosis or Jacob’s. ‘I am the one who decides your dosage. Perhaps you’re not as depressed as you thought. We’ll try something else but first I want to hear all about your mood.’ He shone a lamp in her eyes so she blinked and couldn’t see his face at first.

  She didn’t want to tell him anything about her moods. She was sick of them. ‘I just want to feel some brightness, to see colours again, to feel life is worth living. I have no moods, just one long continuous grey fug to push through.’

  He handed out another prescription and told her to come back in two weeks again. The pills this time had the opposite effect, making her twitchy and restless. Her mind was racing ahead and it reminded her of the purple hearts they popped to keep awake when they were living in the van, her heart racing and thudding in her ears. She couldn’t eat.

  Back she went and she could see he was sick of the sight of her. ‘I give you medication to slow you down, and to speed you up but none of it works. Have you thought that it isn’t medication you need but a proper job with prospects, time fulfilled so you don’t keep dwelling on your disappointments? I’m not sure you are telling me the whole truth about your stay in Leeds, but without honesty I can’t help you.’ He peered over his glasses and she stood up to leave. ‘Perhaps if I send for your notes from your doctor there I might get a fuller picture.’

  If he got those he’d know about her pregnancy, and the family would be shamed all over again.

  ‘You’re right. I’ve taken up too much of your time. I’ll find work and stick with the medication … Thank you,’ she said. What a waste of time.

  ‘I still want to see you in two weeks,’ he ordered.

  Not on your life, Dr Valium, she thought, racing out of the surgery on winged feet. Fear of discovery had done more than any tranquilliser. The fog was lifted for an instant. She would effect her own cure somehow. No more talking to a stranger who didn’t understand just what she’d been through or bother to put her at ease enough to trust him with her secret sorrow. It felt like a Gestapo interrogation with that man.

  Keep busy, don’t mope about what you can’t change, just keep busy … As if to prove her resolve she took a hike up to the Moorlands Estate to see her new goddaughter, Kim. If she could face mother and baby now, she could face anything.

  23

  The Tupperware Queen

  Joy heard the doorbell ringing but sat tight. If she waited they might go away. She didn’t want anyone to see her in this state, but she couldn’t resist seeing who it was this time and pulled the net curtain aside to catch Connie staring up at her. She hadn’t seen her for months.

  ‘Oh, it’s you … We were just resting,’ she lied when she opened the door. How else could she explain herself still in a dressing gown and slippers at this hour? She had to look twice to see if this pale skinny woman with a bubble cut was really her half-sister.

  ‘What happened to you?’ Connie said, barging through the door, pointing to the bruise on Joy’s cheek and her puffy lip. ‘You look how I feel,’ she quipped.

  ‘I had an accident in the car, trying to steer and banged myself on the wheel.’

  ‘I didn’t know you drove,’ Connie quizzed.

  ‘I’m learning. I heard you were back. We were sort of expecting you. Come and see Kim, but don’t wake her. I’ve only just got her off.’ Another lie. She was happiest when Kim slept, and never woke her up.

  ‘So what’ve you been doing in Leeds? I heard you went to Auntie Diana’s.’

  ‘Helping out at Grove Park with the youngsters. I meant to come for the baptism but you got my message when I was sick? Sorry about missing the christening.’

  ‘You didn’t miss much. There’s been a bust-up in the family but no one will tell me why. Do you know?’

  Connie shook her head and gave Kim a brief glance, then turned away.

  ‘When she wakes you can hold her,’ Joy smiled. It was good to have company.

  ‘Better not … I’m not good with babies,’ Connie replied.

  ‘Neither am I, she terrifies me,’ Joy confessed. ‘Mummy takes her when she can, and Irene, of course. They dote on her.’ Another lie. Denny’s parents hardly visited these days. His father took one look at his granddaughter, at her olive skin and black hair, and called her a piccaninny.

  Joy showed her round the house. It was spick and span, ready for tonight’s event, with all the cushions plumped up and the dishes put away, as Denny insisted. You couldn’t tell there was a baby in the house.

  ‘It’s all very neat.’

  ‘Denny likes it that way. I’ve got a do tonight,’ Joy replied. Cleaning was the only thing that interested her. It stopped her from moping.

  ‘Is he still with the Grasshoppers?’

  ‘No.’ Joy paused. No point telling her he’d been dropped from the team. ‘He works for his father now in the coal company.’ She heard herself sigh, thinking how bad-tempered he was these days, and how he spent evenings in the pub, then came home full of piss and wind and spoiling for a fight. She took to bed early, but if Kim woke, he lashed out and blamed her.

  ‘Would you like a cup of tea? I’d ask you to stay but Den’s home early these days and likes his meal on the table sharp. I’ve got a party tonight and I’m going to leave Kim at Mummy’s.’

  ‘Lucky you,’ Connie smiled.

  ‘Oh, not that sort of party, just Tupperware. I’m hosting tonight. Denny’s night out, just the neighbours, not your sort of thing. You host and get a present for what is sold. Look.’ Joy pointed to the shelves in the fridge filled with pastel-coloured plastic containers. ‘It’s really good stuff.’

  They were being polite like strangers but she couldn’t tell Connie just how bad things were or she’d burst into tears and Kim might wake up.

  Connie sat on the edge of the Draylon sofa, trying not to make crumbs.

  ‘How’s things?’ she was asking, and Joy was glad she had on her long-sleeved dressing gown so she’d not see the bruises up her arm. ‘So when do you take your test?’

  ‘What test?’ Joy was puzzled.

  ‘The driving test,’ Connie said and Joy realised she’d been nearly caught out.

  ‘Oh, not yet. I’m not very confident.’

  ‘Will Denny let you use the car?’ Connie was looking at her strangely.

  ‘Eventually … I was half wondering if I could do some evening work but that’s a long way off. Mummy will baby-sit
. She’s marvellous. I don’t know what I’d do without her. You need your mum when you’ve had a baby. I’m sorry, that was tactless, but I’m so glad you called.’

  ‘Shall we go out one evening then, you and me, and catch up?’ Connie said.

  ‘I’m not sure. I’d have to ask Denny.’

  ‘Doesn’t he baby-sit?’

  ‘No, never. It’s not a man’s job, is it?’

  ‘Never mind, your mum could do it instead.’

  ‘Oh, no, she’s not allowed to sit here. I have to take Kim round there, and now that she and Jacob are an item, it’s not so easy.’ She saw the look on Connie’s face. ‘But I’ll ask. Have you heard from Rosa?’

  ‘Just postcards … from the high seas.’ Connie sighed. ‘And you?’

  ‘Just postcards.’ She looked at her watch. She must get Connie away before Den came home. There was so much still to do before the party. Her hand went out to wipe a mark off the table. Connie was watching her every move and the blue-black mark round her wrist.

  ‘I’d better be off. Hope it goes well tonight.’ Connie rose to leave, eyeing Joy carefully. ‘And mind the steering wheel. That looks nasty to me.’

  ‘Thanks for coming. Give me a ring and I’ll make sure I’m dressed next time,’ Joy laughed at her feeble joke, ushering Connie out of the hall and onto the drive. She shut the door quickly just as Kim woke up for another feed. Now she was late, the meal wasn’t ready and Denny would be in a slap-happy mood again.

  She’d seen Connie’s envy of her pristine house, her baby, all the comforts of being a married couple, but oh, how she envied Connie’s freedom. She’d give anything to be living like her and not a prisoner in her own home.

  Connie didn’t see Joy again for many weeks. For someone who was home all day she was elusive, and no mention was made of the outing. When she phoned Joy was always busy or couldn’t get a sitter, Kimberley was sick or some such excuse. She began to wonder if Joy was giving her a message until Auntie Su said she hardly saw her daughter either.