by Lucy English
Waiting for me patiently. My tiny little space. I thought about you.
She sat on the bed. She could feel the absence in the next room. At last she went to look. Debbie went with her. It was completely empty, even the carpet had gone. One wall was half pink.
‘I’m sorry,’ said Debbie. She could see Leah was upset.
‘Are they still in Bristol?’ said Leah.
‘They’re still on Garden Hill.’
It was the longest walk she’d ever taken. Longer than walking to the sea from Bridgwater. Up Brewery Lane and under the railway bridge. Then she was up the steps and knocking on Al’s door. She heard his footsteps coming up the hall.
He didn’t recognise her. He said, ‘What do you want?’ as if she were a beggar. Then he said, ‘Leah?’
‘I want to see my children.’
‘What?’ He pulled her into the house and into the kitchen. ‘How can you do this? What are you doing?’ He was furious. ‘What do you think you are doing?’
‘I want to see my children.’
‘You cannot do this … you can’t … you walked out months ago.’
‘Are they here?’ she said, because there was no sign that they were.
‘Thank God they’ve gone out, and you better go before they come back. Do you know what you’ve put them through? Have you any idea, you selfish cow … where have you been?’
‘In a caravan,’ said Leah, trying to be calm.
‘Oh, how jolly nice, and now you’ve just popped in to say hello. How sweet of you … Let me tell you what’s been going on. Tom, wetting his bed and having nightmares. Jo, his work at school has gone to pieces, and Ben, God knows how it’s affected him, he’s so internal … Your mother on the phone and the Project … and every bloody day, it’s ‘‘When is Mummy coming back?’’.’
‘Well, here I am,’ said Leah.
‘Not like this!’ shouted Al. ‘You have no business to waltz in here. We’ve coped. I’ve coped. They’ve got over the worst now.’ He leaned against the cooker. He was wearing a new pair of jeans and a blue shirt. His hair was shorter and almost stylish. The kitchen was clean and there was a bowl of daffodils on the table. He was still yelling at Leah: ‘What was in your head? No word. Not a phone call, nothing. Did you think about them at all?’
‘I thought about them all the time. That’s why I’ve come back.’
‘You’re not needed now. We can do without you.’
She looked at the floor. Recently cleaned, and Al, who was rolling a fag like he used to and dropping the tobacco down his front.
‘Where are the children?’ she said.
‘They’re with Sally. She lives here now.’
Leah moved to the table and put her hands on the bowl of flowers. ‘I left because I was going mad. How can I explain that? I hated not seeing the boys. I hated hurting them. I needed to get well. Can you understand that?’
He was brooding. He looked explosive. He was flicking his ash on to the cooker, but she wasn’t scared.
The daffodils had burst out of their bulbs, fresh and green. Their yellow flowers glowed with colour. The bowl they were in was dark blue and rounded. She had never seen it before.
‘Do you want to know what I’ve been through?’ she said. ‘What it feels like to feel you’re splitting in pieces. To feel like you’re nothing.’
Al was still quiet.
‘Listen. I don’t want to fight you. You’re right. I could go now and not see you or the boys for ever. Is that what you want? Is that what you really want?’
‘And what do you want?’ sneered Al. ‘You never know.’
‘Yes I do,’ said Leah and she had never felt more clear about anything. ‘I want to be able to see my children. I want to live in Bristol. I don’t want to hurt them any more. I want us to stop fighting. I want us to co-operate. If you can’t do that, Al, I’ll go.’
There was a long moment. You are angry, but I am not frightened. Something is different. Am I that much stronger I can meet you, or has your anger been dissolved?
He sat down. He said, ‘I need to think.’ He was in conflict and she could see it. She waited. She brushed her finger along the stamen of a daffodil and the pollen fell on to her. The trumpets of the flowers like open singing throats.
He said, ‘I’m angry with you. Yes … I want you to fuck off … yes … but when you left and the kids were upset, they kept saying, ‘‘Why has Mummy gone?’’ and I couldn’t tell them, could I? I hit you and you ran away … There is a link.’
‘There is,’ said Leah.
‘I’m not going to accept it’s entirely my fault, I won’t do that for you … no … but they missed you … I didn’t think they would. I thought … I could make them forget you, but they couldn’t. You’re their mother and they missed you.’ He relit his roll-up.
You love your children. You may never have loved me but you love them.
They didn’t look at each other. Al said, ‘I don’t want you to see them today. I want to talk to them first and I want to tell Sally.’
‘I understand,’ said Leah.
But there were voices in the hall. They had already returned.
It was Jo who saw her first. ‘It’s Mum, it’s Mum!’ and he rushed up the corridor and hugged her. ‘I knew you’d come back. Ben said you wouldn’t and we had a bet on it. See, Ben, you lost your bet.’
Ben was standing there like he had been punched. He looked at Leah and ran into the front room. Tom put his head back and wailed.
‘Children! Children!’ said Sally. Leah picked up Tom and carried him to the front room. She squeezed past Sally in the hall, who was looking alarmed and disturbed.
‘Thank you for looking after them. I’m pleased you’re with Al,’ said Leah and Jo said, ‘Sally mended all our clothes and got our hair cut and looks after Dad … she makes chocolate cake.’
‘I’ll let you be with them,’ said Sally and ran to the kitchen to Al.
Leah sat on the sofa and hugged Tom who was crying in her ear and Jo telling her about everything they had done in the last three months.
Only Ben was solemn. ‘I lost my bet,’ he said.
‘Didn’t you want me to come back?’ said Leah.
His chunky face began to wobble and then splinter. ‘I missed my mummy!’ He burst into tears.
They were all bundled up on the sofa in a mess of runny noses and red eyes. Leah was crying too, they were her children and to touch and smell them again was all she wanted. But she was also crying because she knew she wouldn’t be going back to Axe.
‘I’m so sorry,’ she said to him and to them.
‘Tom kept wetting his bed,’ said Ben.
‘I’ve stopped now,’ said Tom.
‘And Jo might get remedial,’ said Ben.
‘No, I won’t!’ said Jo.
‘Shh,’ said Leah.
‘Did you go round the world?’ said Jo. ‘Did you go to America?’
‘I was in a caravan by the sea. Perhaps I’ll show you one day.’
‘Will we live at Clive’s now?’ said Tom.
‘I think I will try to find somewhere else, somewhere better.’
‘With a big garden?’ said Ben.
‘Will we still see Dad?’ said Tom, looking worried.
‘You will see Dad and you will see me.’
‘Grandma sent Dad ₤500,’ said Jo. ‘She wrote him a letter. She said you were always wayward.’
Leah smiled.
‘And Uncle Jimbo sent us ₤50 each, and Grandma Ferris is going to pay for a holiday.’
‘So it wasn’t all bad?’ said Leah.
‘It’s better that you’re back,’ said Jo.
She could hear Sally in the kitchen getting tea ready and talking to Al in whispers. ‘I have to go soon,’ she said.
‘Can you tell us a story?’ said Tom. ‘Sally reads us stories, but they’re not as good as yours.’
Al was standing in the doorway. He was red-eyed. ‘Tell them a story,’ he said.
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br /> ‘We want the three little pigs,’ said Tom.
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
Across the park the daffodils and tulips nodded in the flowerbeds. The grass was growing again. The town was becoming green. She paused at the highest point to look across the city. She was going to see Rachel.
Sally said to the children, ‘Say goodbye to your mummy.’ They stood on the top step and she said, ‘Wave to your mummy,’ and they did, slowly. Tom sucking his thumb and just waving his fingers and I could see it in their eyes, they’re not sure about me now, they don’t trust me now, it’s not going to be easy for them. I shouted, ‘I will never go away again and not let you know where I am,’ and Sally was embarrassed but I didn’t care who heard it. ‘I will phone you every day until I’ve found a house.’ And when I went up the street they were still waving and I could see them.
On the table were sandwiches, cakes, crisps, baked beans on toast, ready for them. Wasn’t she loving it. ‘Al, love, are you all right? Leah, we’re pleased you’re back.’ We are. He was clean and scrubbed with mended clothes. She was plumper, heavier but blooming like a fat camellia. She said, ‘Rachel’s having a hard time,’ and didn’t she love saying that.
Rachel opened the door: ‘Well, I thought you’d turn up one sunny day!’ They laughed and hugged. They sat on her huge sofa firing questions – Where? What? How?
‘Take that coat off. What a rag and it stinks!’ Rachel was dressed in a dark blue wool dress that hung about her softly. Her skin was porcelain white. ‘All your clothes stink. Have you been living in a ditch?’
‘Nearly.’ Rachel’s exquisite front room now had files on the floor, magazines, shirts and socks on the chairs.
‘Declan’s taken Oliver to the cinema and I’m doing housework …’ She sighed. ‘I don’t know where to start, I was asleep when you knocked.’
‘Asleep? What’s the matter?’ Rachel was exceptionally pale.
‘I’m pregnant!’ And she burst into tears. ‘Declan’s so chuffed, I’ll have to have it, but the whole house is falling apart and I’m too tired to do anything …’ She leaned on Leah’s shoulder, despite the smell, and sniffed into her handkerchief.
In the shell-framed mirror above the fireplace there was a blue shape and a black shape on the apricot sofa. The blue shape moved closer to the black shape.
‘If it’s a boy he wants to call it Ian. He thinks it’s Ian’s way of saying it’s OK.’
‘Let’s hope it’s a girl.’
The evening sun tiptoed into the room and lit up the undusted corners.
‘… so you were in a caravan up a cliff with a tramp. Sounds dreadful.’
‘It wasn’t. It was just what I needed.’
Rachel was now lying on the sofa with her head in Leah’s lap. ‘I met your friend Sarah at a party, she said she’s saying a mantra for you every day. She’s in love with a Buddhist.’
‘I love her, she’s mad … When I was up the cliff I missed it here. I missed my friends …’
‘What about Sally?’ And they both laughed.
‘She can wash Al’s socks till the end of time.’
‘Did she tell you about Bailey?’ said Rachel. They had not mentioned Bailey. Leah shook her head. ‘My God, he’s been making me so fucking angry!’ And the colour came back to her cheeks. ‘He hasn’t paid Declan any rent, none at all, or the bills. We’re so skint … Declan won’t throw him out because they’re mates. Some mate! Bailey’s fallen out with everybody. Bill won’t talk to him … we’ll have to evict him. It’ll cost the earth. He is so stubborn!’
‘I know,’ said Leah. You are walled up now and alone. Did I know this would happen to you?
Rachel jumped up and banged the cushions. She whisked Declan’s clothes into a neat pile and swept all the debris off the mantelpiece into the bin.
‘You’ve tidied up,’ said Leah.
‘Oh, so I have … Bailey makes me furious. I want to kill him. I hate him.’
‘You want to get rid of him. You want him to go away.’
‘What’s he doing here anyway? What’s he hanging on to?’
A thought slipping into me and growing bigger and growing rampant. ‘I’ll get rid of him. I’ll try, and if I do, if I can … can I have the house?’
Rachel blew the dust off the driftwood on the mantelpiece. ‘If you want to live with him, I’ll never talk to you again.’
‘I don’t want to.’
‘And you won’t fill it with crusties from Somerset and trash the place?’
‘Rachel, would I? I’d look after the house. I’d make it sweet, I’d do the garden.’
‘I’ll have to ask Declan … Oh hell, why should I ask Declan? Yes, of course you can. You can have Steep Street.’
Bailey knew who she was even though it was nearly dark. He said, ‘I thought you was dead.’
‘So did I sometimes,’ said Leah.
He stayed there, swinging the door. Then he said, ‘Come in.’
They sat in the blue room, as blue as a fish tank. The curtains were drawn. The gas fire was hissing. He sat opposite her. He had shaved off his hair. All that was left was a rash of stubble. He was wearing a grey tracksuit. He looked like he was becoming somebody else but he hadn’t quite got there. He self-consciously stroked his head.
‘So, where did you get to.’ And he looked her up and down. The last time I saw you, you were on the floor.
‘I was by the sea,’ said Leah.
‘Huh, well, it’s been crap here.’
‘I know. I’ve just been to see Rachel.’
He grimaced and breathed through his teeth. It made Leah shiver. But I must be bold. Bolder than I’ve ever been.
‘Are you angry with me for leaving you?’
He was surprised. His eyes darkened. ‘Yes,’ he said. He lit a cigarette and smoked it, looking at her. ‘But now you’re back.’
Greeny eyes with black centres like black water. I know the taste of you. ‘I left because I couldn’t go further and I was sick. I don’t want to repeat that.’
A white stream of smoke. You want repetition. ‘I’ve come here to ask you to leave. I want the house.’
‘You fucking kidding or what?’ He spread himself out on the chair as if daring her to pull him off. ‘You got a nerve.’
‘Bailey. You’ve blown it. There’s nothing here. What are you doing here?’
‘I was having a quiet arvo till you came round.’
‘Aren’t you working any more? I thought you worked on Saturdays?’
He looked at his fag. ‘I left the café. I couldn’t hack it.’
‘And the Project?’
‘You can talk! Where’s that Leah? Weren’t they worried … and I had to deal with that git Vic … Do this, bloody do that … mega bust-up, I tell you.’
‘You got the sack.’ She smiled. ‘You’re terrible.’
There was a wrinkle of humour across him and pride, almost. ‘Yeah,’ he said.
‘Mr Terrible, what’s it like to be isolated?’
He looked at her with a flash.
‘You see, I know. Is it better to be terrible, or is it better to say, that didn’t work out and move on?’
He shifted his weight and she felt it. The bigness of him, the strength of his body he was holding on to.
‘You’re different,’ he said.
‘I know. I’m dirty. But inside I’m completely clean.’
‘Oh, are you now?’ And he stretched out his arms above his head.
You’re pulling me and I can feel it. You know I’m not unaffected. You know I used to walk across broken glass for this, this look on you, you know I know it. Your mouth pulls back from your teeth. I feel your eyes searching. Your tongue is waiting to lick, to push apart the layers, to find the place, the dark place where you can feed.
For a moment she closed her eyes and let him. Just this morning Axe kissed my eyes. We were rocking the caravan, the whole world was rocking. There is no part of me not touched by that. She opened her ey
es and Bailey was ready to spring. She said, ‘Not this time,’ not like a banner in front of him but like a hand held out.
He was speechless. He was racing and hot. He wiped his head. He looked at Leah for a long time. She was not sorry. She was waiting.
He sat back in his chair. She had refused him and it hurt. In his grey clothes he looked faded. She always thought of him as full of colours, brilliant, dazzling. He wasn’t like that now.
He turned his face away so she couldn’t look into his eyes but she could see it anyway. He had missed her. He had stayed here to wait for her. He had let everything else go but the thought that she would come back and save him from himself. Now she was here it was obvious how much of a fantasy that had been.
She said, ‘Once you asked me to leave, you could see what would happen to me. I see it, Bailey, how empty you will become.’
He was proud. He would never admit to her that she was right. He looked into the singing fire and then he said, ‘As it happens, I was thinking about going. I was thinking about it this arvo … Sod it, I’ll pack me bags.’
She could hear him. She hung on to the sofa and hid her face in the cushions. Don’t let me slip. Don’t let me slip.
He came downstairs with two holdalls. He put them on the floor. She sat up and she could feel it rushing through her. Bailey, where will you go, what will you do? He put the house keys on the coffee table.
‘I’ve got all I want. You have the rest.’ He was bending near to her. He was tense and she could feel it. She said, in a whisper, ‘Bailey, my dear, we weren’t bad. We were just selfish.’
He liked that. He stood up to his full height and put on his blistering orange anorak.
‘I could go to me mum’s for starters.’
‘You can go anywhere you like. I found that one out.’
Their eyes met and touched. They didn’t kiss or hug. There was no need.
She knelt by the gas fire and put her hands on the floor to steady herself. She was trembling all over. A part of her ran up the street after Bailey and she let it go.
A wordless piece to stay in your pocket.
She stood up slowly. She took off her coat and threw it into the corner of the room. At the bottom of her rucksack she found the seawashed pebbles and she put them by the fireplace one by one. This is now my home.