If I Should Go (Novella)

by Amanda Brooke

  The glass of wine at dinner had settled Rachel’s nerves and the efforts Hope was putting in to at least appear polite gave her some much needed reassurance. As she left the room, the conversation resumed and Rachel smiled to herself. This really could work.

  ‘This must be such an exciting time for you,’ Karen said, determined to find out more about the man who had stolen her daughter’s heart.

  ‘Yes, it’s hard to believe how much things are changing. This time last year I was juggling my time between my job and visiting mum. I can honestly say I didn’t have a life beyond that.’

  ‘Did you look after your mum for very long?’

  Martin’s laugh was tinged with sadness. ‘Most of my life,’ he said. ‘I was in my teens when my dad died so I became the man of the house. Mum started acting a bit odd shortly afterwards, so she frightened away a few girlfriends, that’s for sure, but we both put it down to her grief. It was only when I came home from university that she was diagnosed with early onset Alzheimer’s and caring for her took over more and more of my life.’

  ‘It must have been a difficult time for you.’

  ‘Which is why I’m making up for it now and doing my best not to feel guilty. My mum kept a tight hold of the purse strings, saving and investing for the future but look what happened to her. OK, her wealth funded her care in the last year of her life, but she never used her money to enjoy her life while she could. I won’t make the same mistake and I want Rachel to enjoy that same kind of freedom. I don’t want her to waste any more of her life.’

  Karen bristled. ‘Life may not have gone the way she planned but she has a beautiful daughter to show for those wasted years.’

  Martin rubbed his face to cool his glowing cheeks. ‘Of course and I didn’t mean to suggest she should wish her away, but while we’re in Liverpool I want her to live a little, that’s all.’

  ‘Assuming Hope doesn’t go with you straight away.’

  ‘Which is why I need your help convincing Rae that it’s the right thing to do. She’d see that now if she wasn’t feeling so guilty. It’s just until we settle in. Then later, we can see …’

  ‘It’s not about guilt,’ Karen said. ‘Rachel wants … No, Rachel needs Hope in her life.’

  ‘But so do you,’ Martin was quick to add. ‘If we’re talking about guilt then I do feel terrible about taking your family away from you all at once.’

  ‘What is it you want, Martin?’ Karen asked candidly. ‘How do you see your future with Rachel?’

  ‘I want to marry her, if that’s what you mean.’ The blush in his cheeks was glowing furiously now.

  Karen tried to smile. ‘No, what I meant was, do you want to settle down and become a family man; a father to Hope and whoever else comes along? Because if I’m honest, you don’t seem ready for that.’

  ‘My relationship with Hope will take time to develop for both of us but yes, one day I’d like to be a father.’

  ‘But first you’d like to enjoy yourself.’

  ‘I want to spoil your daughter too,’ Martin said. ‘We’ll have to work hard to make the business work but it won’t be all work and no play. I want to take her on exotic holidays too and just pamper her in general.’

  ‘Including driving her around in your sports car?’ Karen added, raising an eyebrow. ‘I hear your old car is ready for the scrap heap.’ When Martin agreed, she added, ‘So when you’re not working or living it up and Rachel needs to see Hope, how will you all fit into the two-seater exactly?’

  Martin didn’t look fazed. ‘When Rachel eventually learns to drive then I’ll get her a runaround but until then there are other options. That’s why I bought Hope an iPad. They can use Facetime to see and talk to each other as often as they like.’

  ‘So Rachel will be able to see her daughter, she just won’t be able to hold her?’ she said, suddenly understanding Martin’s intentions quite clearly.

  When Rachel came downstairs, she noticed the change in atmosphere immediately. Karen and Martin were sitting in silence and wouldn’t meet each other’s gaze. When Martin decided to call it an early night, no one argued, not even Rachel. She needed to find out what had happened between them.

  ‘Martin has no intention of Hope coming to live with you,’ Karen said before Rachel had even asked. They were still standing in the hall and the headlights of Martin’s car flashed across the window. ‘I’m sorry, Rachel, but I don’t think he’ll ever be able to give you what you want, not the important things anyway.’

  ‘I thought you wanted to support me, mum,’ Rachel said levelly so as not to turn the discussion into a confrontation.

  ‘I won’t support you running off to Liverpool and turning your back on your family.’

  Rachel raised her voice to match her mum’s. ‘I have no intention of turning my back on my family. I might have agreed, reluctantly I may add, that I’d consider Hope staying here, but that would only be for a couple of months. I’ve made that very clear to Martin.’

  ‘Not clear enough,’ her mum countered. ‘I’d say he’s thinking that it’s more like two years and I wouldn’t be surprised if he’s hoping to put it off for so long that you’ll forget to take her at all.’

  ‘One way or another, Hope will be coming to Liverpool to live with me and Martin,’ Rachel replied, louder than she would have liked.

  Karen opened her mouth to cast another accusation but Hope stole her thunder.

  ‘I don’t want to go to Liverpool!’ she cried.

  Karen and Rachel looked up to see the little girl in her apple green pyjamas cowering at the top of the stairs, still rubbing sleep from her eyes. Her lip trembled but not as much as the rest of her body. ‘I don’t like your nasty, smelly boyfriend, Mummy, so he can go to Liverpool all by himself and never come back!’ She gulped back a sob, wet with angry tears. ‘You said if I didn’t like him you would send him away! Well, I don’t like him, Mummy! I don’t like him one bit!’

  ‘Hope, sweetheart,’ Rachel said. She made a move to go up to her but Hope stepped back and threatened to turn and run, so Rachel was forced to stay where she was, empty handed. ‘I know it’s going to be a bit scary but it’s also going to be a big adventure.’ In her mind, Rachel was pleading with her daughter. Don’t do this, Hope. Don’t make it any more difficult than it already is. Don’t make me give up my one chance of happiness.

  ‘I don’t want to live with him and you can’t make me!’

  Rachel wanted to sink to her knees but she somehow managed to stand up to the six year old. ‘I’m your mum, Hope, and this is a tough decision but it’s one I have to make. Not you. I want you to be happy and this is going to be—’

  Hope rushed downstairs and straight past Rachel to reach her nan. ‘Don’t let her take me away from you, Nana. Please!’

  It took all of Rachel’s willpower to stand and watch as her mother and her daughter were reduced to sobs. ‘I love you both so much,’ she began, not sure where her thoughts were leading her any more. ‘You are my reason for living, Hope, but I love Martin too. He makes me happy. He makes me feel like a real person again.’ Her last comment was directed at her mum but, from the look on Karen’s face, she was of the same opinion as her granddaughter. ‘Please, mum. Why are you doing this? You said you would help me.’

  Karen couldn’t look at her daughter and when she spoke, she talked softly in the hope that her sobbing granddaughter wouldn’t overhear her reservations. ‘I won’t stand in your way and God forgive me, I won’t retract my offer of having Hope, if only for her sake, but I can’t give you my blessing, Rachel, so please don’t ask me to. Maybe I don’t know Martin as well as you but I heard enough to know he’s in no rush to take on the responsibilities of a family. You need to be very clear about what he’s expecting you to sacrifice for him.’

  Despite the sight of devastation in front of her, Rachel felt herself harden. She was twenty-five years old and she wasn’t ready to be a spinster. Her mum might be happy being single but Rachel wanted somethin
g different, something better. ‘You’re wrong, mum. Martin would do anything for me.’

  Karen finally looked up. ‘So let him prove it,’ she said. ‘That weekend away you have planned, take Hope with you. Oh, that’s right, you can’t all fit into his new car, can you?’ She didn’t wait for an answer but said, ‘He’ll just have to hire something bigger, assuming he’s as keen as you think he is to have Hope living with you.’

  Hope yanked her head up. ‘No, Nana, I don’t want to go. Why can’t I stay here with you?’

  Rachel pursed her lips to stop herself from saying something she might regret. She was tired of being the only one fighting for Hope to come to Liverpool with her and so the suggestion her daughter had made in all innocence was left floating in the ether, gathering substance.

  6

  When Rachel had arranged to visit Bea at home, she had imagined a pleasant little trip with Hope. They would be laden with gifts, a mixture of the essentials Mrs Wilson probably thought she could do without and a few treats too. They would sit down to enjoy a cream tea and Hope would be able to compare notes with Bea on their colourful perceptions.

  ‘We’re supposed to be going over to cheer Mrs Wilson up,’ Rachel said, stopping for her daughter to catch up. It wasn’t the first time she had been forced to wait for the little girl scraping her heels along the pavement but, if Hope had any sense, it would be the last. ‘Stop scowling, Hope.’

  Hope retaliated with a smile so broad that it made her red and puffy eyes bulge. ‘Is that better?’

  Anger constricted Rachel’s chest and if she hadn’t been standing in the middle of a busy high street she might have released the scream building inside her. She was still reeling from the night before when the two people she loved and trusted most in the world had turned against her.

  She had spoken to Martin and told him that her mum couldn’t look after Hope for the weekend. She didn’t say why and neither did she put forward her mum’s suggestion of them hiring a car. Taking Hope with them would only increase the immense pressure they were all under so Rachel was going to ask one of her friends to babysit instead, someone who wasn’t so keen to stamp all over her dreams. Her mum’s blatant attempt to sabotage her relationship with Martin wasn’t going to work.

  Rachel could almost understand why her mum had done it; Karen didn’t want to lose her daughter and eventually her granddaughter, but that was exactly what was going to happen unless she came to her senses and realised how selfish she was being. Meanwhile Rachel would need to have the courage of her convictions – and one conviction held true above all others. She was lucky to have Martin in her life and she wasn’t going to let this chance of happiness pass her by. She accepted that he wasn’t perfect; maybe he didn’t have the kind of social skills that would make everyone love him as much as she did, but it was her feelings that mattered, not theirs. She wasn’t going to give into Hope’s emotional blackmail; she wasn’t going to beg her mum for support; and she certainly wasn’t going to give up without a fight.

  ‘I’ll be glad when you’re back at school next week,’ she muttered under her breath, as she imagined how liberating it would be to go to Liverpool without any parental responsibilities. Up until now, her conscience hadn’t allowed her to think such thoughts but as she set off through the park, she didn’t once look back or wait for Hope. Her daughter would have to learn to keep up or risk her mum disappearing into the distance.

  Mrs Wilson lived on the leafier side of town and her house was palatial compared to the tiny terrace Rachel had been brought up in. The front garden had a neat lawn with equally well-tended shrubs around its border.

  ‘You haven’t been out mowing the grass, have you?’ Rachel challenged when Bea opened the door.

  ‘I can manage to dead-head the roses but I know my limitations. I have a lovely gardener who comes over once a week to help with the heavy work. Now stop worrying about me and get inside.’

  It was only when they had settled on the leather Chesterfields in the living room that the old lady had a chance to greet her guests properly. ‘As I recall, young lady, your favourite colour is number …’

  ‘Eight.’ Hope answered with the first genuine smile Rachel had seen that morning.

  ‘Ah, that’s right. Mine is number three although I quite like Tuesday.’

  Hope’s bloodshot eyes began to sparkle as Mrs Wilson teased out more information about the way her mind coloured not only numbers but certain letters, symbols and words too. The more Rachel heard about synaesthesia, the more envious she became of this strange condition that seemed more of a gift than an affliction. She wished Martin was there to hear them talk; it might make him fear Hope that little bit less.

  It was only when Mrs Wilson mentioned how she had loved telling her pupils all about synaesthesia that Rachel found a reason to rejoin the conversation. ‘I bumped into Hope’s teacher the other day. She would love to meet you and suggested you might want to give a talk to Hope’s class.’

  ‘You could tell all my friends how I see things. They don’t believe me,’ Hope added.

  Mrs Wilson’s eyes narrowed. ‘We’ll see,’ she said. ‘I wouldn’t like to make promises I can’t keep. Now, where are my manners, I haven’t offered you any refreshments yet, have I? I was thinking we could sit out in the garden and make the most of the nice weather.’

  ‘That sounds like a lovely idea,’ Rachel said, ‘but please, let me help. I’ve brought a few goodies with me.’

  Bea glanced at the bulging shopping bag at Rachel’s feet. ‘Would I be wasting my breath by saying you didn’t have to?’

  ‘Yes, you would,’ Rachel said, following Bea into the kitchen. Needing no encouragement, Hope disappeared outside to explore the cottage garden at the back of the house. It was big enough to swallow up the little girl without trace.

  ‘You’re looking well,’ Rachel said. ‘I hardly noticed your limp at all.’

  ‘All I needed was to get back home where I belong,’ Bea said as she handed Rachel a plate for the colourful cupcakes she had brought with her.

  ‘Is this the house you shared with your family?’ Rachel asked, sensing that it was. Despite the emptiness that echoed off its walls, it felt like a family home, albeit one that had been put into hibernation for the last fifty years.

  Mrs Wilson reply was more of a sigh. ‘Yes,’ she said, then caught Rachel glancing up to the ceiling. ‘Don’t worry, I’m not another Miss Havisham. You won’t find Tim’s bedroom frozen in time with cobwebs hanging from the furniture but I will admit there was a time when we kept things as he’d left them. I put away the last set of clothes I would ever wash and iron for him, made his bed and occasionally wiped away the layers of dust that would otherwise go undisturbed. But only for a while.’

  ‘Sorry.’

  Mrs Wilson shrugged. ‘I can still recall how it looked and how it smelled but with each passing year it takes a little more effort.’ As if to press home the point, she stopped what she was doing and focused her eyes deeper into the past. There followed another shrug, another sigh. ‘When Richard and I split up, I had to take in lodgers to help cover the bills. I had no choice but to give up a little of the past. It hurt. There have been times that I regretted filling his room with someone else’s memories but I suppose it was for the best.’

  ‘I can’t imagine what it must have been like for you.’

  ‘Pray you never have to find out, Rachel.’

  Like a worm, that nightmarish thought invaded Rachel’s mind as she and Bea made their way out to a small bistro table tucked away beneath the shade of a weeping willow. Hope had been playing at the far end of the garden and came running up to take a long drink of the orange cordial Mrs Wilson had made. Rachel watched her, soaking up every inch of her physical presence and wondering how she could have lost sight of the most important thing in her life: her daughter.

  ‘There are loads and loads of berries by that fence over there,’ Hope said. ‘Would you like me to pick them for you, Bea?’<
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  ‘They’re blackberries and they taste delicious in a pie but if you’re going to pick them you need to be very careful and watch out for the thorns,’ Bea told her. She got up and took Hope to the potting shed to find a small basket and some gloves to dwarf Hope’s little hands.

  Rachel watched from a distance that stretched beyond the laws of physics. She hadn’t realised how far removed she had become, not only from her daughter, but from the person, or more precisely, the mother, she had once been.

  ‘Penny for your thoughts?’ Bea asked when she joined her at the table again.

  Rachel blinked hard as if the sun had stung her eyes and not her tears. ‘Hope found out last night about the move to Liverpool.’

  ‘She doesn’t want to go,’ Bea surmised.

  ‘And now my mum thinks I’m making a mistake. Between them, they’re making me choose,’ she said with a sigh. ‘I can understand why Hope is frightened of change but I thought my mum was ready to put aside her own feelings and support me.’

  ‘She doesn’t approve of Martin?’

  Rachel put her head in her hands, suddenly feeling swamped by her emotions. ‘She thinks he’s too immature to take on a family, that he’s behaving like a kid in a sweet shop, but it’s only to be expected after having put his life on hold for so long. I wish she could have seen the old Martin. He’s a decent enough bloke, Bea. He’s certainly good enough for me.’

  ‘Good enough doesn’t sound like a good basis for any relationship. And what of Hope? Is he good enough to be a father to her while he’s rediscovering his second childhood?’ Mrs Wilson asked, all too quickly exposing the fault lines Rachel had been hiding from herself as much as anyone else.

  Rachel could see her daughter’s head bobbing up and down as she collected her bounty. ‘I just need to work on him a little longer,’ she admitted. ‘It’s now looking likely that Hope will stay here while Martin and I establish our new life in Liverpool. That’s certainly what Martin wants and mum has said she’ll look after her although I wouldn’t be surprised if she turns the tables on me and changes her mind again.’