If I Should Go (Novella)

by Amanda Brooke

  Mrs Wilson didn’t reply immediately but stared at Rachel in disbelief. ‘You want to leave Hope behind?’ she asked at last.

  ‘I’m being torn in two, Bea,’ Rachel said by way of an answer. ‘Hope and mum are pulling me back to my old, mundane, life as a single mum, while Martin is offering this amazing chance to start over again with a husband and a career.’

  ‘But without Hope.’

  Rachel followed Bea’s gaze back towards the little girl she was preparing to abandon. ‘In more ways than one,’ she said, and tried to laugh at the pun but it came out as a sob. In a heartbeat, her blood pressure soared and her chest felt tight. ‘He doesn’t want her, Bea. I’ve been trying to tell myself that all he needs is time to adjust and to get to know her but I’m fooling myself, aren’t I? Of course he hasn’t factored Hope into his plans, it’s been obvious. He bought that damn two-seater sports car and wants a swanky apartment but I’m more of a people carrier and a house in the suburbs kind of girl. He’s expecting luxury Caribbean holidays while I’d be happy with a caravan in Wales, as long as we could be a family. How can two people who love each other have such different views of their perfect life together? It’s not like I’m expecting to live happily ever after, but just one slice of happiness would be nice for a change.’

  When Bea replied, it was as if she hadn’t heard a thing that Rachel had said. ‘Despite everything that happened, I’ve had some good times in the last fifty years. The day I was made headmistress; the surprise party for my sixtieth birthday; or when I retired and the whole school made such a fuss …’ She hadn’t taken her eyes off Hope but suddenly turned on Rachel. ‘And I would give up every single one of those spectacular, noteworthy days for just one more day with my son. Not a special one, not Christmas day or holidays, nothing extraordinary, just one, average, every day kind of day,’ she said, her voice crackling with the kind of pain that couldn’t be blunted with time. ‘The sort of days that you have with Hope, taking her to the dentist or dragging her around the supermarket – all that time you have together but value so little it would seem.’

  Rachel tried to meet Bea’s steely glare but her tears blurred her vision. She tipped her head back and looked up to the heavens. Through the tendrils of the weeping willow the sky was splintered like the shards of her broken dreams. ‘I can’t do this,’ she whispered. She had felt her anger building all morning – anger at her family for not supporting her, anger at Martin for forcing her to fight for what she wanted – but the rage that consumed her now was directed only at herself. She dropped her head so she could face Bea again. ‘I’m not the kind of person who abandons their child,’ she said, with a sense of purpose that both scared and comforted her.

  ‘Good, I didn’t think you were.’

  ‘I can’t believe I was on the verge of leaving her,’ Rachel said, stammering over gulps for air – air that tasted sweeter now that a decision had been made. ‘I can’t believe I ever contemplated it.’ Rachel’s eyes searched out Hope again. She could see the sun shining off her daughter’s head like a halo and knew immediately how it would feel to run her fingers through her hair,how it smelt of damp, sweet sweat each morning. She looked back at Mrs Wilson and imagined the bed left empty after her son scrambled out of his covers one Sunday morning, never to return. To be there and then to be gone in an instant. The pain that Rachel could only imagine hit her like a fist in the stomach, making her gasp out loud. ‘How could I be so selfish? I was thinking only of me … How did I ever think I could live with myself if I gave up my daughter? I can’t live without her,’ she said between sobs that couldn’t be held back as she made a pitiful attempt to explain what was going on inside her head. ‘I would rather die – I’m so ashamed, Bea …’

  Rachel took a breath only to have it forced from her lungs by the tiny figure who had rushed up and clamped her arms fiercely around her Mummy.

  ‘Don’t cry, Mummy! I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to make you sad.’ Hope was sobbing too.

  ‘Oh, sweetheart, you could never make me unhappy,’ Rachel said as she tried to bring the collective sobbing under control. She wiped her eyes so she could see clearly enough to wipe away her daughter’s tears. ‘I love you so much, Hope. I’d be lost without you.’

  ‘But you love Martin too and you might die of a broken heart if he goes away!’

  Rachel cupped Hope’s face in her hands and said, ‘I promise I’m not going to die of a broken heart.’ Despite the conviction she had tried to convey, Rachel’s voice trembled. She had made her choice but she couldn’t help grieving for what she was about to lose.

  Mrs Wilson cleared her throat, both to get their attention and to swallow back her own tears. ‘If you’re right and Martin is a decent, if slightly misguided chap, then isn’t there a chance you can still reconcile your needs?’

  Rachel was already shaking her head. ‘I don’t want to cling onto false hope. Not when I have my real-life Hope.’ She made a brave attempt at a smile.

  ‘But I’ll be good, Mummy!’ Hope declared. ‘I won’t sulk and I will really, really try to like him if you promise not to cry any more.’

  Rachel kissed her daughter’s forehead then simply breathed her in. When she caught a glance from Bea, she said, ‘It’s all right.’

  ‘No,’ Bea said firmly. ‘If your daughter’s willing to give it one last try then why not you? Tell him how you feel, tell him you’ve made your choice and now it’s his turn. Give him an ultimatum; you and Hope or nothing at all.’

  Still resisting the temptation to cling onto her dreams, Rachel said, ‘We were going to Liverpool next week to look at places to rent, Martin still will be … No, it’s too late. What would be the point?’

  ‘The point would be that you could use that time to convince him that you come as a package and that he’s lucky to have the chance to have such a beautiful family,’ Bea insisted.

  It was Hope who added a dose of reality this time. ‘Nana won’t look after me and Mummy can’t take me with them because Martin’s old car is knackered, isn’t it, mum?’ she said before turning purposefully towards Mrs Wilson. ‘But you could look after me.’

  Bea frowned. ‘When?’

  ‘A week on Saturday,’ Rachel replied, still unconvinced the trip with Martin would be worthwhile.

  ‘Hmm, a week on Saturday …’ Mrs Wilson said, and then, just when Rachel thought she was going to say no, she added, ‘Actually, I think that might work perfectly.’

  ‘Are you sure?’ Rachel asked.

  ‘More than you are by the sounds of it,’ said Bea, who refused to broker any more debate on the matter.

  7

  A pair of arms slipped around her waist and hugged her tightly. ‘Watch out, sweetheart, you’ll make me spill the milk,’ Rachel said and shuffled from the fridge to the table with her daughter attached like a limpet.

  ‘Love you, Mummy,’ Hope said, giving Rachel a final squeeze before releasing her.

  Rachel kissed the top of her daughter’s head. ‘And I love you, my beautiful, beautiful girl. Now eat up your breakfast as quick as you can so we can get going.’

  Hope sat down and was already shovelling the first spoonful of cocoa pops into her mouth as Rachel poured the milk. She couldn’t have asked more from her daughter over the last week. Hope had returned to school without complaint or incident and on the one occasion she had seen Martin she couldn’t have been more excited if he had turned up in a Santa suit with an armful of presents. It was just a shame Karen hadn’t been around to witness it but Rachel’s mum had been keeping her distance. She hadn’t seen Martin since the ill-fated dinner and as much as was possible in a small terraced house she was even avoiding Rachel.

  ‘So you’re still going then?’ Karen said as she came into the kitchen. It was the first time they had come close to talking about Rachel’s plans.

  ‘Yes, of course I am,’ Rachel said as she joined Hope at the table.

  ‘And you’re sure Mrs Wilson is able to handle a six-year-old for
the weekend?’

  Her mum’s voice was etched with concern and perhaps a little guilt too but Rachel heard only an accusation. ‘I don’t exactly have a choice. I presume you’re still going to Auntie Jane’s for the weekend?’

  ‘She thinks I could do with cheering up,’ Karen said carefully and sat down at the end of the table furthest from her daughter. When Hope gave her a worried look, she managed to return a wink if not a smile.

  The little girl was too intent on finishing her breakfast to notice her nan’s eyes welling with tears but Rachel did. She wanted to say something – a heart-to-heart was well overdue – but there seemed little point in wrestling with so many unknowns when they would all know where they stood soon enough. ‘Hope will be fine and I think it’ll do Bea good having some company.’

  The conversation over breakfast remained stilted. Both women were more interested in what wasn’t being said than the inconsequential chatter passing their lips. It wasn’t until Rachel and Hope were heading out the door with their overnight cases that Karen decided to face the issue head on. She pulled her daughter back into the house, leaving Hope standing perplexed by the front gate.

  ‘I’m sorry, Rachel, really I am. I want to be supportive but I’m sick with worry for you both. I know we all have to take risks in life, and if you think Martin is going to be as committed to Hope as he is to you then I’ll trust your judgement.’ Karen left a pause that might only have been to catch her breath, but she was also looking into Rachel’s eyes, searching for the slightest hint of doubt. It didn’t take her long to find it. ‘What aren’t you telling me, Rachel?’

  ‘Martin loves me, mum, I don’t doubt that,’ Rachel managed.

  ‘For what it’s worth, neither do I.’

  ‘And I think we also agree on what his intentions are in terms of Hope,’ Rachel admitted. ‘Over the last few months I’ve been desperate to find a way forward which would make everyone happy. For a while I convinced myself that leaving Hope here would suit everyone but …’

  ‘But?’

  Rachel glanced over her shoulder towards Hope. ‘I won’t give her up, not even on a temporary basis.’

  ‘Does he know?’

  ‘He will do. I’m going to tell him that if he can’t see Hope as a part of his life then I can’t see him in mine.’

  ‘Oh, Rachel, why are you even considering moving now? If Martin can’t accept Hope except under duress then he’s not worth it. Don’t be blinded by his expensive gifts and flashy car. Cancel the weekend and stay here. Please, we can talk it through.’

  Bristling at the remark, Rachel turned away as she said, ‘No, mum, I’m going. And for the record I fell for a man who was devoted to his mother, there was no flashy car then.’

  Karen tried to grab her again but Rachel resisted. She didn’t look back or even say goodbye. She pulled back her shoulders and took hold of Hope’s hand as they set off down the road.

  Heading through the park, there was a chill in the air that cooled Rachel’s fired-up emotions. When they turned into Mrs Wilson’s road, she thought she had herself under control – but then she spotted the flashy red sports car at the bottom of the road and her heart began to race.

  ‘Is that Martin’s car?’ Hope asked.

  ‘Yes, he said he’d pick me up from Mrs Wilson’s house so I don’t have to walk all the way back home.’ It would also avoid the risk of Martin and her mum bumping into each other.

  ‘Can I go and say hello?’ she said, already pulling away. The wheels of her case sparked along the pavement as she sped off.

  Rachel watched as Hope ran past Mrs Wilson’s house and up to the car. She tapped on the window and then her head was bobbing up and down as she launched into what looked like an animated but probably one-sided conversation. By the time Rachel had reached the house, Hope was on her way back.

  ‘He said he’ll wait in the car,’ she said breathlessly.

  A hand appeared out of the car window and waved. She thought she could just make out the reflection of Martin’s face in the wing mirror as she waved back.

  ‘Let’s get you settled first,’ Rachel said, already sensing Martin’s impatience but refusing to give in to any pressure, perceived or otherwise.

  Mrs Wilson looked almost as excited as Hope by her arrival and listened intently as the little girl told her all about her first week back at school and how Mrs Carnegie had promised that the next time she needed a green crayon, all she had to do was ask.

  ‘And,’ Rachel said loud enough to silence her daughter who would gladly have chatted on for the next ten minutes without reprieve, ‘she’s really looking forward to this talk you’ve promised to give.’

  The comment was a playful one but Mrs Wilson’s response was stony-faced. ‘I didn’t promise any such thing, Rachel.’

  ‘Would it be such a bad thing to think there are still children out there who might be influenced by you?’

  The old lady rubbed her arms as if there was a sudden chill in the air. ‘That’s what today is all about,’ she said and turned back to Hope. ‘We’re going to have such fun.’

  Accepting it would have to be a battle for another day, Rachel focused on the immediate future. ‘Hope’s brought everything she could possibly need for a fun-filled weekend,’ Rachel said, as she went through the contents of her case. ‘I’ve packed some treats for tonight and there’s also cereal for tomorrow. She goes to bed at eight-thirty sharp, no arguments.’ She looked at Hope for agreement before continuing. ‘And there’s a note in the side pocket with all my contact details and my mum’s mobile number too, not that she’s in the mood to help, but for Hope she’d move heaven and earth. I can’t tell you how much I appreciate you doing this. I’m not exactly brimming with confidence that the weekend will go the way I want it to but …’ Rachel stopped midsentence as she finally took in the growing horror on Bea’s face.

  ‘The weekend?’ Bea asked.

  Rachel felt the colour draining from her face. With a sickening twist of her stomach, she realised what was wrong. ‘Yes, Bea, I thought you realised. Martin’s arranged viewings for over the two days so we weren’t planning on coming back until tomorrow evening. Is that a problem?’

  ‘Well, yes. I can’t have Hope tomorrow. I simply can’t.’

  The two women stood in silence and the only movement came from Hope who looked from one stricken face to the other. ‘mum? Does that mean I can’t stay?’

  The tremble in Hope’s voice was nothing compared to the tremors coursing through Rachel’s body. It was over. Her dream was finally over. ‘Is there no way you can change your plans?’ Rachel asked.

  Mrs Wilson shook her head.

  ‘But I can’t ask mum.’

  ‘You’ve just said she’d move heaven and earth for Hope,’ Bea insisted.

  ‘But she wouldn’t lift a finger to help me salvage my relationship with Martin.’

  ‘I’m sorry, Rachel. I can’t look after Hope tomorrow.’

  A car horn sounded from outside. ‘Please, Bea,’ Rachel said, aware she was putting pressure on the old lady.

  ‘No. It isn’t possible, not at all.’ Mrs Wilson patted Hope’s head by way of an apology. ‘But I would still love to have her today as long as you promise to pick her up later.’

  Rachel held her breath as she tried to think. She had planned on spending the weekend digging deep into Martin’s psyche in search of the man she had fallen in love with, teasing out his doubts and fears and somehow convincing him that fatherhood could be a blessing and not a millstone around his neck. She had known it would be near impossible to achieve all of that in one weekend but what chance did she have with only one day? ‘It’s better than nothing, I suppose,’ she said, aware of how ungrateful she sounded and hating herself for it.

  ‘I’ll give your mum a ring once you’ve gone,’ Bea offered. ‘Maybe I can persuade her to pick up Hope tonight instead of you.’

  The glimmer of hope made Rachel’s eyes sparkle, albeit eyes that were glistening w
ith tears. ‘Thank you, Bea.’

  ‘Don’t go thanking me yet. There’s a long way to go before the end of this day.’

  8

  Despite the relief of her temporary reprieve, Rachel fought the urge to burst into tears as soon as Martin fired up the car and set off.

  ‘Excited?’ he asked.

  Rachel’s stomach lurched. ‘Something like that.’

  He reached over and squeezed her thigh. ‘This is a whole new start for us, Rae.’

  Fighting a wave of nausea, Rachel kept her eyes focused on the road ahead without saying a word. Sedgefield High Street blurred until all she could see was flashes of sunlight reflecting from the shop fronts.

  ‘There’s a folder underneath your seat if you want to take a look at the properties we’re going to see,’ Martin said to fill the yawning gap in the conversation. ‘We’ve got three viewings today and at least another two tomorrow. The estate agent is working on a couple more but I’ll sort those out once we get there.’

  Again there was no response and as the minutes ticked by, the silence between them became a solid wall. ‘Rachel?’ Martin said at last. ‘Is something wrong?’

  ‘Bea didn’t realise looking after Hope involved an overnight stay. She can’t have her tomorrow so she needs someone to pick her up tonight.’

  Martin shook his head. ‘This wouldn’t have happened if your mum hadn’t let you down to begin with.’

  ‘She is allowed a life too,’ Rachel said. ‘And Bea is going to try phoning her to see if she can help, but she’ll be on her way to Auntie Jane’s by now so that’s kind of a long shot.’ She was still looking out of the window; they had left town and were winding their way through the Cheshire countryside heading for the motorway.

  After a brief pause, Martin said, ‘Don’t worry about it, Rae. Even if your mum can’t pick her up, in an hour we’ll be miles away from Sedgefield and Bea won’t have a choice. It’s not like she’ll throw Hope out onto the streets.’