The Girl I Was Before

by Izzy Bayliss

  Clara and I had always had a tumultuous relationship, but we had never had a fight like that. I had never seen Clara in tears before. I just couldn’t understand her problem – okay so I knew she was fed up of me not getting my life together, hell I was even fed up of me not getting myself together too, but it was my life and it was none of her business. I thought about ringing Dad, but I knew he would get upset if he thought his two daughters were fighting, plus he’d feel awful for letting the cat out of the bag about Sam. I wondered if what she said about Mam were true – would she be disappointed in me? Would she be disappointed with how I had turned out? That upset me more than anything, the thoughts of Mam looking down on me in despair from wherever she was. I went over and picked up the photograph from the bookshelves and traced my finger along the outline of her face. What would she have thought of all of this – Marc and I breaking up, then meeting Sam so soon afterwards?

  “I’m sorry if I’ve disappointed you, Mam,” I whispered. “I don’t mean to make such a mess of everything – it’s like I can’t help myself.”

  I placed the picture down again and sat on the sofa and flicked through the channels. A really old episode of Home & Away was on, it had Pippa and Tom, and Bobby and even Donald’s evil sister Morag was in it, it was that old. When I was a child I always wanted to go to Australia and live with Pippa and Tom, and be one of their foster kids. I thought all my problems would fade away living in that wooden clapboard house. I sat watching the TV absently, thinking over all Clara had said. My phone rang then and I saw it was Sam, but I didn’t answer it. Maybe Clara was right. Maybe it was time I grew up.

  Chapter 30

  Sam rang me several times that evening. He eventually left a message saying that he hoped everything was okay between us. I felt terrible not answering him, but it was for the best. Clara’s words had hurt me and even rung true. What had I been thinking, moving on so soon?

  I didn’t sleep a wink that night as the argument with Clara replayed in my head. I saw every hour on the clock. I didn’t like fighting with people, it unsettled me. I wasn’t tough like Clara, who was probably fast asleep now, not giving it a second thought. An argument would play on my mind, and anxiety would curl around my gut until it was all sorted out again. Although the next day was Christmas Eve, I certainly wasn't feeling the Christmas spirit.

  I was exhausted when I got up the next morning. Sam phoned me again, and I wasn’t going to answer it but then I decided I owed it to him to be upfront.

  “Lily,” he said. I could hear in his voice. “Are you alright? I was getting worried about you, I rang you last night?”

  “I know – sorry.”

  “Look did I do something wrong?” Sam asked.

  “No, of course not – I just think that maybe we’re better off leaving things as they are. Before we get in any deeper,” I sighed.

  “Oh –” he said clearly taken aback, “I see.”

  “I’m so sorry, Sam.”

  “Can I ask why?”

  “Look, it’s just for the best.”

  “I just don't understand? Was it the other night, if it was too soon for you then I'm sorry –”

  “It wasn't that – the other night was perfect, but I'm sorry Sam, I can't be with you any more.”

  “I don't get you at all," he said in obvious frustration. "But, well if that's what you want . . . then take care of yourself, Lily.”

  I hung up the phone and bawled. Big full on fat tears with snot and everything ran down my face and wet the front of my t-shirt. My life was a complete mess. But the thing was I liked Sam, I really, really liked him. That was why I had to do it. I hadn’t been honest with him about Marc, and I was pretty sure he wouldn’t want to get involved in all that hassle and drama that was inevitably going to come down the line. I was doing him a favour in the long run – I had to keep on telling myself that.

  My phone rang later that day from a number I didn’t recognise.

  “Hello?”

  “Lily, hi, it’s Marita here – Sam’s sister.”

  “Oh hi, Marita.” What was she ringing me for?

  “Well firstly I just want to say thanks for bringing the kids to Playfactory at the weekend – they had a ball, and went straight to bed after you dropped them home – they were that tired!

  “No worries – we had a great day. They’re lovely children.”

  “Well the real reason I was ringing was to ask you over for Christmas drinks tonight? It’s a family tradition – everyone comes to my house for mulled wine and mince pies on Christmas Eve. Now the kids will be up to ninety waiting for Santa but it’s normally a bit of fun. Will you come along with Sam? I’d love to get to know you better.”

  “You obviously haven’t been talking to Sam then?”

  “No, why?” she asked.

  “Well Sam and I have decided to go our separate ways I’m afraid.”

  “Oh really? God I’m so sorry. I should have talked to Sam first before I rang you . . . Sorry, Lily. God I’m so embarrassed now.”

  “Don’t be. You weren’t to know.”

  “Me and my big mouth – pass me a shovel so I can dig myself out of this one,” she laughed nervously.

  “It’s okay, really, Marita.”

  After we hung up I felt really bad. His family, well the ones I had met anyway, were so lovely and welcoming – it was like breaking up with them too.

  I held my head in my hands and sighed. Why could life never be straightforward?

  I had to do a wedding cake that was being collected on St Stephen's day, and I didn’t want to spend all of Christmas Day sweating over it in my kitchen so I knew I should make a start on it. I smashed bags of digestive biscuits that I was using to make a chocolate biscuit cake on the worktop with unnecessary force. I rattled cake tins and pounded out icing with the rolling pin – this cake was definitely not Baked with Love.

  A while later there was a knock at the door. My heart leaped a little, hoping that it might be Sam. I opened the door, but it was Dad.

  “Hi there,” I said trying to mask my disappointment.

  “Well hello to you too.” He sat down on the sofa. “There’s a lovely smell in the place.”

  “Chocolate biscuit cake. I’m making it for a wedding,” I said grumpily.

  “Are you all set for tomorrow?” He was referring to Christmas dinner in Clara’s.

  “I’m not going.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I’m not going.”

  “Did you and Clara have a falling out or something?”

  I said nothing.

  “Well there is something wrong or my name isn’t Hugh McDermott – you’ve a face on you that would turn milk sour!”

  “Look Clara and I had a fight yesterday – she called over here and said some pretty nasty stuff.”

  “Ah,” he said. I knew by his tone, he knew more about this than he was telling me.

  “Come on spit it out?”

  “Well it’s probably my fault so –” He stopped. “Look, Clara rang me telling me that she’d met you with some fella outside Playfactory, and I said well actually he’s not just some fella, his name is Sam and that you seemed to be very happy with him but that was it, she just went off on one. I’m sorry, Lily I should have pretended that I knew nothing about him.”

  “Look it’s not your fault – she said lots of hurtful things, Dad and I’m not going to stand for it anymore. I’ve been listening to her for years bossing me around – well not anymore!”

  “But it's Christmas – we always go to Clara’s for Christmas dinner?”

  “Well I’m not going. I’ll get a frozen turkey in Tesco or something.”

  “Aaaah, Lily.”

  “You should have heard what she said, Dad!”

  “Go on what did she say?” he groaned.

  “Well, where will I start – first of all she started by ranting at me for moving on so quickly after Marc. Then it just snowballed.” I didn’t want to tell him what she had
said about Mam because I knew it would upset him too. “Anyway she’ll be happy now because I’ve finished with Sam.”

  “Why?” He was shocked.

  “I don’t often say this, Dad but Clara is right. It’s far too soon for me to be rushing into another relationship. It isn’t fair to Sam to get me on the rebound – he’s a lovely guy and deserves someone with no baggage.”

  “But you liked him, Lily!”

  “I know, Dad. I know,” I sighed.

  “Look Clara will come around – don’t be worrying about what she thinks. She just feels she has to look out for everyone.”

  “That’s exactly what she said to me the other night – that’s why she is so angry with me because she said she’s been spending her whole life minding me.”

  “There’s probably a bit of truth in that,” he said quietly.

  “What do you mean?”

  “Well for a while after your mother died – I wasn’t there for her, for both of you as much as I should have been. I know that now. But at the time . . . well grief does funny things to you. You were okay – you were too young to understand really and Clara took on the role of mothering you. But Clara . . . well . . . Clara had no one to do that for her I suppose.” He paused. “I regret that every day. Look, I know she goes on a bit, Lily and I know she gives you a terrible time of it sometimes but she means well, and she was so good to you when you were small. If you saw the way she used to mind you, Lily - and she only a small thing herself!” His voice broke and his eyes filled with tears. “I’m sorry, Lily –”

  I was shocked by what he had said. Dad had never spoken about this before. I was too young to remember the immediate aftermath of Mam's death, so this was new to me. I could only ever remember Dad being a good father to us. I was lost for words.

  I could feel myself starting to cry as well. I always did that as a child if I saw a grown-up crying, it frightened me so I ended up crying with them. “Go on, Dad. It’s okay,” I said softly.

  “She’s not as bad as you think, Lily – she has a hard front but she’s a big softie underneath it all.”

  I had never thought of things from this perspective before. I had just seen Clara as a bossy, interfering older sister, but maybe this was the reason why she was like that.

  “Nobody every spoke about it, you know?”

  “Well that was probably my fault, people didn't want to upset me, you see? I'm sorry, Lily, I'm sorry that you never felt able to talk about your mother or to ask questions about her. I suppose I never thought of it from your point of view – you probably don't even really remember her, you're bound to be curious.”

  I nodded gently. “It's okay, Dad, honestly. I know it wasn't easy on you or Clara either. She was a few years older, maybe I was lucky to be so young.”

  “Who knows, Lily,” he sighed, “who knows. I’d bet my life that Clara is just as upset as you are right now.”

  “Do you think?”

  “I’d bet money on it, Lily. Why don’t I drive you over there now and you two can make it up. Huh?”

  I looked back at him sulkily.

  “Come on, it's Christmas, ” he cajoled.

  “Alright,” I mumbled.

  Chapter 31

  Dad pulled up the handbrake and silenced the engine. We were outside Clara’s house. Through the bars of her formidable electric gates, I could see that the house was decorated like a house from an American Christmas movie. The whole façade was illuminated with strip lighting like it was a giant Christmas present waiting to be opened. Garlands tied with huge red bows hung in every window and a bushy wreath arched over the front door. Fairy lights were strewn gracefully across the branches of the trees in the driveway. It must have cost tens of thousands to light up the house and grounds like that, I thought.

  “Clara's been busy,” I said nodding to the lights that were twinkling magically in the evening twilight.

  “She hired professionals,” Dad said.

  “I see . . .” I paused for a moment. “So are you going to come in?” I asked nervously.

  “I think you two need to sort this out by yourselves without me being there.” He put his hand over mine and gave it a squeeze. “It’s for the best, Lily.”

  “Yeah, you’re probably right,” I sighed. I was usually able to let Dad do the talking for me but it was probably time I did it myself now.

  “Ring me afterwards, won’t you and let me know how you get on?”

  “Of course, Dad.” I gave him a kiss on the cheek and got out of the Nissan Micra.

  The gravel crunched under my feet as I let myself in through the pedestrian side gate and trudged towards her front door. The sky was heavy, with grey woolly-looking clouds. I took a deep breath and pressed the doorbell.

  “What are you doing here?” Clara said icily as she opened the door to me.

  “I wanted to talk to you,” I said.

  She held back the door and directed me into the living room.

  “Where are the boys?”

  “Tatiana has brought them swimming to try and burn off some excess energy – they’re exuberant about Father Christmas.”

  Father Christmas? Since when did she call him that? It was always Santa when we were growing up.

  “The house looks great,” I said by way of conversation.

  She merely nodded at me.

  I sat down onto the formal Chesterfield sofa, which was quite hard and always made me sit up straight. Clara took one of the armchairs.

  I decided to come straight out with it.

  “Look, Clara – you said some hurtful things last night, but I’ve been talking with Dad, and well I realise that maybe you didn’t have things as easy as I thought growing up . . .”

  “How do you mean?”

  “Dad said you used to look after me – after Mam died.”

  “He did?” She looked shocked.

  I nodded.

  “Well I had no choice, Lily – you were only two. Dad went to pieces, so someone had to step in.”

  “I never knew that before,” I said quietly. "Nobody ever talks about her."

  “It’s not a big deal. Someone had to hold it all together and that person was me.”

  “Well thank you – for doing that for me, even though I don’t really remember it – thank you.”

  She looked up at me and there were tears glistening in her eyes.

  “I’m sorry for everything I said yesterday, Lily. I didn’t mean it – really I didn’t and I know some of what I said was truly awful. Of course Mam would be so proud at the way you turned out.”

  This was enough to set me off too, and soon the two of us were a sobbing mess.

  “You were too young to remember, Lily, but I was five and I understood everything. She dropped me off to school one morning and then didn’t come back to pick me up. The thing was that Mam always picked me up on time – she was always the first mother there. I stood waiting and waiting with my teacher Mrs Byrne in the schoolyard as one by one every child went home with its parents, until suddenly I was the last child left. Even then I felt very anxious, it wasn't like Mam to be late. Mrs Byrne said it might be better to wait inside, and she brought me up to the principal’s office and gave me a Rich Tea biscuit. I’ll never forget it – I had never been inside it before. She kept trying to ring Mam from the school phone, but there was no answer.” Her voice was now a whisper. I knew there was something wrong because I could see it on Mrs Byrne’s face. Then the school rang Dad at work, because it was almost an hour later and still no one had come to collect me. So Dad tried ringing her and she still didn’t answer the phone, so he knew something was up. Dad came then and picked me up and when we went home, we found Mam lying on the kitchen tiles. That was it – a brain haemorrhage had taken her instantly. I’ll never, ever forget seeing her lying there on the floor. I was only five, but I knew something was very, very wrong and then Dad started shouting – I can still hear it now. I don’t really remember what happened after that but I remember wonde
ring why Mam would want to sleep on the kitchen floor. When Dad went to check where you were, you were sleeping soundly in your cot – you had slept through it all.”

  “I never knew that,” I whispered. I had known that a brain haemorrhage was what had killed Mam, but no one had ever told me the full details of what happened that morning, and I had always been too afraid of upsetting people to ask.

  “We were robbed of so much, Lily. So much.” Her voice broke and she started to sob. “We didn’t even get to say goodbye.”

  “I know,” I whispered. I had never really thought about it from Clara’s perspective before, what must it have been like for a five-year old girl to see her mother dead on the floor?

  “Auntie Flor came and helped out for a bit and Granny too, but with families of their own they couldn’t stay forever, so soon it was just the three of us left on our own to get on with things, and Dad went to pieces. He loved her so much, Lily – he took it very badly. He was caught up in his own world of grief so we stuck together you and I.”

  I smiled at her.

  “Sometimes I was jealous of the girls in my class in school – they still had mothers to mind them – for silly reasons like to plait their hair or iron their uniforms. Mrs Byrne was very good to me, she took me under her wing, but I still missed my own mother. So I had no choice really – I had to grow up fast. You were my little sister, and I loved minding you. And all the things Mam used to do for me, I tried to do for you so that you wouldn’t miss out on anything. When you started school, I did your hair as best I could in the mornings and I packed your lunches every day and made sure you always had your homework done. I even made your costumes for the school concert.”

  “Thanks, Clara,” I mumbled. This all had come as such a shock to me. Everything I thought I knew about my childhood had been turned upside down.

  “She was so beautiful, Lily. Really, classically, beautiful. She had such delicate features, pale flawless skin and dark shiny hair. I used to think she was the most beautiful woman in the world. She’d always put on her make-up every morning – even if we weren’t going anywhere and I would stand beside her at the mirror, and she would hand me her red lipstick or her mascara and I would put them on too. I’m sure I made a mess, but she never said – she just said how I looked so pretty.”