“Hello,” I said and smiled.
He just looked blankly at me and wandered away leaving the door open. I walked in. The kitchen was empty. There were piles of dirty plates and bowls in the sink and on the drainer. There was a pat of melting butter on the table with its paper open, covered in flies which flew up in a cloud when I waved my hand sharply over them. Something in the bin stank. Smelt like rotting meat. Presumably where the flies had bred. I looked in the fridge. A sour gone off milk smell in there. Hardly anything else. Bit of mouldy looking cheese. A few half empty jars of stuff. I closed it again. I could hear the TV on in the living room so I went to investigate.
I pushed open the door and found Declan curled up on the settee, thumb in his mouth watching a Disney cartoon, and Mariah sitting on the carpet with a blouse on her top half and a completely bare bum. A filled nappy was lying on the carpet with a trail of poo from it. From the look of the brown stuff encrusted on her bum she’d got tired of having it on and tried to wipe her bum on the rug. I put a hand over my mouth and tried to stop myself gagging. Her face lit up when she saw me and she stood up and ran towards me, arms out. Her hands were all pooey too. I tried to pick her up round the waist and hold her at arm’s length. Where the hell was everyone? Mariah was getting on for two now wasn’t she? Shouldn’t she be potty trained? Or did that come later?
I gave up worrying about the shit. Clearly I was going to have to deal with it. I carried Mariah to the bathroom, turned the taps on in the bath and stripped her top half. Weren’t you supposed to do something with your elbow in bath water for babies? Wasn’t sure what… But I tried to make sure the bath wasn’t too hot, then I dumped her in it and let her soak for a bit before finding a flannel and scrubbing the muck off. Then I threw the flannel in the bin which I saw was full of unwrapped used tampons and tampon applicators. I tied the bag off so the boys wouldn’t see them.
Mariah kept lifting her hands to me and saying, “Gitty, Gitty!” But I had no idea what she was on about. I wrapped her in the cleanest looking towel available and went out with her wrapped round my waist like a monkey to look in the various bedrooms for some clothes for her.
The boy’s bedroom was empty, but in the next door one I found Siân. She was lying there looking dreadful. Make-up smeared on her face like she’d gone to bed in it last night and not got up at all today. She was in a vest top and knickers and socks and nothing else.
“Are you ill?” I asked.
“Piss off,” she said in a low but violent tone.
“Where can I find some clothes for Mariah?” I asked.
“Just fucking take her. Mum seemed to think you’d look after her better than me anyway!”
“Where’s your Dad?” I asked.
“In bed,” she hissed. “Now fucking leave me alone!”
I backed out and shut the door. Shit. What to do now? I rested my hand nervously on the door that I knew was the parent’s bedroom. Ok, better do it. I turned the handle and pushed open the door. Con was lying asleep on the bed. He was unshaven, his hair hadn’t been cut for months by the look of it, and there was an empty bottle of whisky lying on the bed beside him and several empty Carlsberg cans on the floor. I shut the door again. Double shit. I hitched Mariah up and she lay her head on my shoulder. I looked in Quinn’s old room. Bingo! At last! A cot and all her things.
I dressed her in the prettiest, cleanest things I could find and brushed her soft dark curls. “Gitty,” she said smiling engagingly at me with her dark blue eyes fixed on my face. I carried her back downstairs and as I walked into the kitchen, the front door opened and Liam came in, whistling cheerfully.
“Thank God for that!” I could have cried with relief. One normal one!
Liam looked startled. He was about fourteen now, and clearly somehow surviving. “Hi McGinty,” he said. “What are you doing here?”
“Liam, they’re not coping are they? Your father and sister?”
He shook his head, his expression shadowing.
“Listen, I’m going to try to do something. But in the meanwhile, will you make a point of looking after Declan? Leave everyone else to sort themselves out, but feed Declan and take care of him for now. Why’s my Dad and Pauline not here helping?” I knew Kathleen had asked Pauline to keep an eye out for Declan.
Liam looked down at his hands. “Siân and my Dad just shout at them to get out…”
“Ok,” I said with a frown. Now I could understand a bit more. “Have you got any money?”
He shook his head. I felt around in my jeans pocket and found a twenty pound note. “Here – feed yourself and Declan. I’m going to take Mariah away for the weekend so you can all have a rest. Why isn’t Quinn coming round?”
Liam shrugged and looked miserable. “He came a couple of times, but just stood in the kitchen, looked around and walked straight out again…”
“Ok,” I said. I hitched Mariah up again, she was dead heavy these days. I thought about it for a moment. “Help me get together everything I’ll need for three days for Mariah and help me carry it round to Dad’s.” I’d leave the bike at Dad’s for the weekend and get him to drive me back to the flat with Mariah and all her stuff.
“Ok,” Liam said immediately, looking more cheerful again.
The pile of things seemed endless. Nappies, bottle, wipes, baby food, clothes. A baby carrier you put on your back. Liam helpfully carried them round to my Dad’s then I left Mariah with Pauline and went back to transfer Quinn’s bike into Dad’s drive.
Back inside my own house, the lump was sitting enigmatically staring ahead of him on the sofa, propped up with cushions. Mariah was running around like a little mosquito chasing Pauline’s brown and white spaniel round the room then she stopped suddenly to giggle and wave at Ethan. He just looked blankly at her.
“Will you look after her for an hour or so?” I asked Pauline. She was agreeable. So I went out, got on the bike and drove round to PC Holt’s house.
Holty’s wife Thérèse answered the door. “He’s not here right now,” she said immediately.
“Maybe it’s you I need this time?” I suggested.
She led me into their squishy plush peach coloured living room and I explained the whole situation. “Is there anything the church can do to tide them over? Is there any childcare available? It’s school holidays now, so Declan won’t be going to the reception class and Mariah needs some day care maybe five days a week so Siân can go to college or work or whatever and Con can work.”
Thérèse was frowning. “Maybe we should call social services?”
“Please don’t! Please don’t…” I begged. “Please don’t let Mariah get taken into care! If we look after her, the others will pick up I’m sure. They just need some time…”
Thérèse bit her lip. “I’ll ring around the Union of Catholic Mothers,” she promised, “and see what we can do to help.”
“If someone would volunteer to come in to clean once a week for a few months, and other people would drop in some meals, and maybe someone shop for them and fill the fridge, and someone befriend Con, that would tide them over… And then some day-care for Declan and Mariah. I don’t even know if Con is working. What’s happening there?”
Thérèse looked worried. “Someone needs to find out if he’s working, or if not, whether he’s sorted out any benefits.”
“So can I leave it with you and John?” I said.
She nodded.
“But promise me you won’t let the kids go into care?”
“Listen Eve, if John thinks we should call social services, we will, but the first thing social workers do is set structures in place to help parents and families to cope. Taking children away is a total last resort, so most likely they wouldn’t even suggest it.”
I looked suspiciously at her. “You promise?”
She looked straight into my eyes. “I promise,” she said.
The Satterthwaites stared at me as I walked out of my flat the next morning with a huge bag and a framed construction
on my back.
“Don’t shout at me,” I said quickly, “I had to…”
“Had to what?” Jo queried puzzled.
I turned round to show the beaming face of Mariah peeping over the top of the baby carrier.
Pete and Jo both looked appalled.
“Someone please help me,” I appealed. “I have no idea how to get a baby out of one of these things once they’re behind you on your back!”
Pete got out and awkwardly hauled at Mariah and held her like a piece of oily engine away from himself and I performed contortions to get the ruddy framed thing off my back.
“I have literally no idea how I’m going to manage this weekend,” I groaned. “I was struggling already and that was at home in the flat with all the facilities to hand. This latest nappy is the first one I’ve even got to stay done up! I thought Quinn would be around to help but he never came home last night.”
“Tyler’s going to love you,” Pete observed sarcastically as he handed Mariah into me on the back seat.
“Just as well I’m purely decorative this weekend unless he seriously trashes his car,” I agreed. “He’s got both Mick and Tom so he was just taking the piss when he was pretending to need me…”
Later in the journey I started asking if a nearly two year old should be off baby food and toilet trained by now. Paul glanced in the mirror back at me and made his big confession. “I’m ashamed to say that twenty seven years ago everything was very different and I was with an engineering company that sent me abroad a lot, so I wasn’t very hands on. Barely changed a nappy. Had nothing to do with weaning and potties. Then got straight back into the driving.”
Sounded like Jo had to get into the driving or she’d have never seen her Dad. “Oh well,” I said. “I expect Tyler will know, it’s only five years ago for him.”
“Tyler’s going to really love you!” Pete drawled.
Tom took a second glance and sort of scratched his head and said nothing. Mick, a much older guy who I barely knew, raised his eyebrows and said, “Does Nat know?”
“Who’s Nat?” I said blankly.
“That would be me,” said Tyler from behind me.
“Oh yeah – forgot…” I said turning round and lifting my face for a kiss which he dutifully bestowed.
“So we have the lovely Mariah with us do we?” He observed.
I sighed. “Sorry, long story. Just tell me if there’s anything I should know about what she’s up to, I can’t see her behind me.”
“Won’t she cry with all the loud noise?” Tom protested.
I shrugged then realised it was quite difficult to shrug whilst strapped up in a framed rucksack thing full of heavy toddler. “She’s been carted around on Quinn’s motorbike since she was born, so she’ll probably just feel at home.”
Tyler had a friendly word with her and she exclaimed, “Gitty! Gitty!” at him.
“She keeps saying that and I have no idea what she’s trying to tell me,” I sighed.
Tyler laughed. “She’s trying to say your name of course!” He leaned towards her. “Ginty! Ginty!” He encouraged.
“Gitty! Gitty!” She enthused back.
“Oh G-a-a-w-d,” Tom groaned.
I grinned at him. I felt pretty much the same way. “Anything I can do?” I asked.
“Not yet,” Tom said.
“Get us two cappuccinos and one builders’ with milk and two,” Mick ordered.
I sighed again. It was obviously evolutionarily programmed – put a baby on your back and you’re instantly demoted to the char-lady. But I went off without complaint avoiding Tyler’s amused look as they were right, that was probably all I was going to be good for today.
Having delivered the brews, I wandered off to try to find the F1 section of the pits. The F1s were on before the 2s, and there seemed to be some last minute rush on with Rob’s car. Quinn looked up and his pupils contracted angrily when he saw Mariah.
“What are you doing with her?”
“I’m looking after her for the weekend because they needed a break,” I explained. I could see that now wasn’t the time to try to talk to him about anything.
“Don’t you start your fucking interfering now!” Quinn swore at me. “It’s none of your effing business!”
“Ok, Quinn,” I said and walked away. I saw Rob glance up at me from the other side of the car and then heard him sharply order Quinn to do something or other.
I went back to Tyler. “You all set then for the big race?”
“Yeah, as long as I don’t wreck the car in the earlier ones.”
“What’s she up to?” I asked.
“Asleep,” he reported.
“Sorry about this,” I said and explained a bit of what had been going on. “I’m really worried she’ll get taken into care, but I just can’t take her on myself. I work full time, will soon be back doing the driving and Quinn’s on strange irregular shifts so we couldn’t even do it between us…”
Tyler frowned. “She’s not your responsibility.”
“Kathleen asked me to keep an eye on her, and now I can see why…” I explained. “Anyway, I’ve gone to the church about it, so I think they’re going to do their best to sort it out. The funny thing is, I never liked Kathleen. I suppose with the way she treated me I assumed she was a terrible mother as well. But when she was dying I got to know her a bit and I saw another side to her. And now she’s gone they’ve all just fallen apart so I guess she must have been the lynch pin of the family…”
Tyler nodded. He started pulling on his gloves. “Wish me luck.”
“You don’t need luck,” I said. “You just need skill and you’ve got that already.”
“Ok, kiss me then,” he suggested.
I smiled at him. “That’s what you really meant wasn’t it?”
“You’re so literal!” He complained.
“Just say what you mean Tyler…”
“Give me a snog, you annoying creature,” he said forcefully and then pulled an embarrassed face at me when Mick looked round disapprovingly. I giggled and gave him a kiss and I heard a gurgle from behind me.
“Now Mariah wants one too,” I interpreted.
“Oh g-a-a-w-d,” Tom groaned again. “Whose idea was it to let the women in around here?”
We’d intended to sleep in the van, but in the light of our additional charge Tyler changed his mind and hunted down a Travelodge.
“This décor is becoming a background theme to our lives isn’t it?” I said as we walked into the identikit room.
Tyler pulled a face. “This isn’t how I should be treating you is it?”
I laughed. “Well it’s either this or sleep in the van and I know which I’d prefer!”
He lifted Mariah out of the backpack and she put her arms out to him and smiled.
“She likes men who smell of oil,” I remarked. “Reminds her of her brother.”
“Do I always smell of oil?” He asked ruefully.
“Probably,” I said. “I wouldn’t know… Oil, petrol, diesel, hot metal – they’re like white noise to me, I don’t notice them.”
“Run a bath for her,” he ordered, and began to undress her.
When I came back to fetch her he was looking worried. “Look,” he said pointing. “She’s got a terrible raw nappy rash and look how those clothes have been cutting into her, I’m sure they’re too small for her. And she’s a bit undersized as it is for nearly two. And what’s she doing with a bottle still and pureed food? She should be onto a baby beaker and last time I saw her she was eating egg and soldiers so what’s caused this regression? What did Quinn say when you went to see him?”
“I didn’t try to speak to him because as soon as he saw I’d got Mariah, he just swore at me.”
Tyler frowned. “This has definitely got to be sorted out.”
“I know. I’m hoping someone from their church will take her in…”
“We need to do some shopping for her tomorrow,” Tyler suggested.
I was e
mbarrassed. “Thing is, Tyler, I gave all my spare money to Liam because he didn’t have any money to feed Declan, and I don’t get paid again until the twenty-third…”
“It’s ok, I’ll get it,” Tyler said. “Now then sweetie, we need to get you nice and clean don’t we?”
We all went out for a meal where Tyler and I took turns popping real food into her mouth which seemed to go down perfectly well and later, in bed, she crawled all over us trying to join in our cuddles. Finally she fell asleep and we were able to get on with special adult cuddles of our own.
In the morning I woke up as some tiny little hands patted at my face. I winched opened my eyes to see two little bright blue eyes a few inches away from mine. Mariah smiled joyously and exclaimed, “Gitty goop!” And threw herself on top of me. I groaned.
Tyler was already up. He turned round and smiled at me. “I think that was Ginty get up!” He interpreted. He came and sat on the edge of the bed beside us. He reached out and touched my fist. “You sleep like a baby yourself, Eve.”
“What do you mean?” I asked sleepily.
“You sleep with your hands above your head and your thumbs tucked into your fist, like this,” he demonstrated by curling his fist around his own thumb. “You look at Mariah next time she’s asleep in a cot. That’s how I know if you’re ready to wake up or not. If you look at me and uncurl your hands and stretch them out, you’re ready to get up, and if you cling a bit tighter to your thumbs then you’re trying to hang onto sleep. And at night, once your thumbs tuck in then I know that’s it for the night.”
I looked at him a bit perplexed. “But why?”
“Why do you do it, do you mean?” He interpreted. He smiled at me. “You see it in those photos of babies in the womb, with their little fists with their thumbs tucked in.”
“You mean I’m regressing?” I said dismayed.
He leant over and kissed me. “Probably.” Then kissed Mariah too as she crawled over me determinedly to muscle in on the action. Then he tickled us both even-handedly. She gurgled with delight and I shrieked in outrage.
The Way Barred (Not Quite Eden Book 4) Page 20