Lost Angel

by Mandasue Heller

  ‘Mum . . .’ Johnny held up his hand to stop her. ‘I really haven’t got time for this.’

  Cathy stopped talking and smiled. ‘Sorry, was I going on? I should have realised when your eyes started glazing over. You always did that, even when you were little. I’d be saying something, and you’d be pretending you were listening, but you wouldn’t have heard a word.’

  Johnny’s brow creased and he gave a weary sigh.

  ‘Sorry.’ Cathy held up her hands. ‘Go on . . . you said you had something to tell me? It’s not about that girl, is it?’

  ‘Girl?’ Johnny frowned, wondering if she’d already heard about Ruth and had just been waiting for him to come out with it.

  ‘The one I saw you with in town that time. I didn’t like to say anything at the time in case you thought I was interfering, but I didn’t really like the look of her. You’re not still seeing her, are you?’

  Relieved, Johnny smiled and shook his head. ‘God, no, she was just a one-night stand. But, you’re half right. This is about a girl.’

  ‘I knew it,’ Cathy crowed. ‘So, who is she? Do I know her?’

  ‘No, but you will.’

  Cathy’s eyebrows knitted together as she waited for her son to go on. When he didn’t, she said, ‘I’m guessing it’s serious, or you wouldn’t have bothered coming round to tell me about her.’

  ‘Yeah, it’s serious,’ Johnny affirmed. ‘She’s pregnant. We’re getting married.’

  ‘Wow.’ Stunned, Cathy flopped back in her seat. ‘Well, I wasn’t expecting that.’

  ‘Join the club,’ Johnny murmured. ‘I was as shocked as you when I first heard about it.’

  A look of concern crept into Cathy’s eyes as she gazed at him. They might not have seen each other for a while, but she knew her son better than anyone, and there was something he wasn’t telling her.

  ‘You don’t seem very happy,’ she ventured. ‘Are you sure you’re ready to take such a big step? How long have you been seeing her?’

  ‘Six months.’

  ‘Six months?’ Cathy squawked. ‘And you’re even thinking about getting married? Are you stark raving mad?’

  ‘I know it doesn’t seem long,’ Johnny said lamely. ‘But it’s happened, so I’ve got to do the right thing by her.’

  ‘I don’t believe this.’ Cathy shook her head and tapped her cigarette agitatedly on the side of the ashtray. ‘Marriage isn’t something you can do one day and undo the next, you know. It’s a massive commitment. Don’t you think it’d be better to get the baby out of the way and spend some time getting to know each other before you think about tying yourself down like that?’

  Irritated that she was lecturing him as if he was a kid who didn’t know his arse from his elbow – even if she was right – Johnny said, ‘Like you and my dad did? Oh, but you didn’t bother going the whole hog, did you? Never mind what that made me.’

  A look of hurt leapt into Cathy’s eyes and she raised her chin proudly. ‘I think you’ll find that I wanted to get married,’ she told him. ‘It was your dad who couldn’t be arsed. Too busy screwing that slag behind my back.’

  She took another drag on her cigarette, and Johnny could tell that she was struggling to hold the tears at bay. Feeling guilty, he said, ‘Sorry, I didn’t mean that. You know I don’t blame you.’

  ‘I did my best,’ she replied quietly. ‘And I thought you were happy.’

  ‘I was,’ Johnny told her.

  Until you fetched Les home and ruined my life.

  ‘I was,’ he repeated, more positively. He reached across the table and took his mother’s hand in his. ‘I know how tough you had it after my dad walked out, and I’ve got tons of respect for the way you handled it.’

  Cathy peered down at their joined hands and bit her lip hard. It had been ages since she’d felt her son’s flesh on hers, and it made her realise that she had missed him more than she’d allowed herself to admit.

  ‘Are we all right?’ Johnny tilted his head and gazed up at her. ‘Am I forgiven?’

  Cathy swallowed the lump that had formed in her throat and pulled her hand free. ‘Yeah, course,’ she said, lighting a fresh cigarette and pushing the pack across the table for him to help himself. ‘Anyhow, whose idea was it to get married? Yours or hers?’

  ‘Both,’ Johnny lied.

  Cathy arched her eyebrows and gave him a disbelieving look. ‘You never could fool me, Jon-Jon, so don’t bother trying now.’

  Caught out, Johnny said, ‘All right, so maybe she wants it more than me.’

  ‘So why are you going along with it if you don’t want to do it?’ Cathy demanded. ‘And don’t say you’re doing it for the baby, ’cos it’s her you’ll have to go to bed with every night and wake up next to every morning. And, believe me, that’s hard enough when you love each other. But if you don’t, it’ll kill any feelings you have got stone dead. And you don’t love her, do you?’

  She asked the question, but then snorted softly and answered it herself.

  ‘Course you don’t. How could you after six months?’

  Johnny groaned and ran his hands through his hair. His mother was right on all counts, but he couldn’t tell her that. If she suspected he was being forced into it, she’d have him straight down to the police station screaming for Frankie to be arrested. But that was her world, where people played by the rules and respected authority. In his world, people like Frankie only followed the rules they had set – and anyone who grassed was a dead man walking.

  ‘It’s not too late,’ Cathy persisted. ‘Just tell her you’ve changed your mind and put it on hold. You can still be a dad to the kid. And you can even carry on seeing her – if that’s what you want. Then, if you’re still together a few years down the line, there’ll be nothing to stop you giving it another go. But at least you’ll know you’re doing it for the right reasons by then, won’t you?’

  ‘I know you’re trying to help,’ Johnny said wearily. ‘But I can’t back out of it.’

  Cathy drew her head back and gave him a knowing look. ‘Oh, I see. She’s one of them, is she? Thinks she’s too special to have a baby if she hasn’t got a big fat ring on her finger? Well, maybe I’d better have a word with her, ’cos I’m not having any little madam push my son around like that.’

  Johnny cursed himself for having made it so obvious that he wasn’t happy about the wedding and the baby. His mum had always been able to see right through him. When he was a kid, no matter where he told her he’d been she’d always known exactly where he’d really been, who he’d seen, and what he’d done while he was there. But confessions weren’t an option here. He had to convince her that she’d got it wrong.

  ‘Look, I think we’ve got our wires crossed,’ he said, looking her straight in the eye. ‘I was shocked when she told me she was pregnant, I’m not going to deny that. But once I got my head around it, I was made up. I’m chuffed to bits now, and you will be, an’ all – nan.’

  He grinned as he said that last word, knowing that it would knock her for six.

  ‘God, don’t call me that,’ Cathy moaned, rolling her eyes. ‘Have you any idea how old that makes me feel?’

  ‘Yeah, well, you don’t look it,’ Johnny said, using flattery to manoeuvre her away from the other subject. ‘You’re still a babe.’

  ‘Shut up,’ she scolded, a hint of pinkness colouring her cheeks.

  ‘It’s true,’ Johnny insisted. ‘My mate went on about you for ages after he saw you that time. I had to tell him to pack it in, ’cos it was getting too freaky.’

  ‘You’re such a liar,’ Cathy chuckled. Then, self-consciously flicking her bottle-blonde hair back, she said, ‘Was that the lad who let you move into his flat?’

  ‘Yeah – Dave. He’s a good mate.’

  ‘He’s a nice-looking boy. And I’m glad it worked out all right, ’cos I was worried about you, you know.’

  Johnny sensed that she was on the verge of getting emotional, and said, ‘Forget it.’ Then, ‘So,
about the wedding . . . do you want to come, or what? Only I’ll need to tell Ruth and her mum, so they can send out a proper invite.’

  ‘Ruth?’ Cathy raised an eyebrow. ‘Is that her name? Bit old-fashioned, isn’t it?’

  ‘Never really thought about it,’ Johnny answered. And it was true, he hadn’t. But now that she’d brought it up, he supposed it was a bit dreary.

  Dreary name for a dreary girl.

  ‘Well?’ He shoved Ruth out of his mind and gave his mum a questioning look.

  ‘I’m not sure,’ she murmured, scraping her chair back and reaching for their empty cups. ‘Let’s have another brew while I think about it.’

  ‘Not for me.’ He shook his head. ‘It’s being booked for the thirteenth of November, so if you’re coming I need to know asap.’

  ‘Let me talk to Les,’ Cathy said quietly. Sighing when Johnny rolled his eyes, she said, ‘Well, you can’t invite me and not him. It wouldn’t be right.’

  ‘I don’t want him there,’ Johnny told her bluntly, unable to hold his tongue any longer. ‘And I can’t believe you’re still trying to force him down my throat after everything he did.’

  ‘Oh, Johnny, not this again,’ Cathy groaned. ‘I know you blamed him for your dad walking out, but he wasn’t even around at the time. He’s done nothing but try to support us.’

  ‘And beating the shit out of me was supporting us, was it?’

  ‘Stop it,’ Cathy scolded. ‘He might have given you the occasional smack, but that’s all. And you should think yourself lucky, ’cos anyone else would have snapped if you’d pushed them as far as you pushed him.’

  ‘Really?’ Johnny raised an eyebrow and stared at her.

  ‘Yes, really.’ Cathy held his gaze. ‘I’m the one who had all the neighbours looking down on me like I was the world’s worst mother whenever the police dragged you home, so don’t try and make out like you were some kind of angel.’

  ‘I never said I was,’ Johnny replied coolly. ‘But I was only nine when he moved in, and I’d never got into any kind of trouble before, so didn’t it strike you as odd that I suddenly went off the rails?’

  ‘You were twelve when you started playing up,’ Cathy reminded him. ‘All kids are little bastards at that age.’

  ‘Especially if they’re getting the shit beat out of them day in, day out, eh?’

  Cathy tutted. ‘Les never did anything of the sort, and you know it. You just said it to break us up, ’cos you’d had me all to yourself and you were jealous of him moving in. But it didn’t work then and it won’t work now. Les might not be perfect, but he’s done his best by me – and you. It wasn’t his fault you wouldn’t let him near.’

  Johnny’s cheek muscles twitched as the rage he’d tried so hard to suppress came bubbling to the surface.

  ‘Oh, he got near, all right. Every time you went out, he was on me like a fucking dog. I remember how scared I used to get when he was standing over me with that evil look on his face. And he fucking loved it – seeing me cry, and knowing I’d end up pissing my bed and get into trouble with you.’

  Cathy gave him a pained look. ‘I can’t keep doing this, Jon. I’ve lived with Les for near enough ten years, and I know him inside out. If he was like that, I’d know.’

  ‘So all the bruises I started getting after he moved in just came out of thin air, did they?’

  ‘Lads play rough. You were always getting scuffed up when you were out with your mates.’

  ‘Not when I was nine,’ Johnny reminded her. ‘You didn’t let me play out till I was eleven, ’cos you always wanted me where you could see me after my dad left. Don’t you remember?’

  ‘Oh, so now I’m a bad mother because I tried to protect you?’ Cathy shot back defensively. ‘The kids round here were a load of hooligans; I didn’t want you ending up like them.’

  ‘I’m not saying you were a bad mother for keeping me in,’ Johnny replied coolly. ‘Just for leaving me with a man you didn’t even know, then calling me a liar when I told you what he was doing to me. Any mother who cared about her kid would have kept an eye on the bloke if she heard something like that. But not you – you just fucked off out and left him to it.’

  ‘I had to work,’ Cathy reminded him.

  ‘No, you wanted to work,’ Johnny corrected her. ‘You got a buzz from it. Used to come home boasting about you and Julie getting all the tips ’cos you had a “special way of flirting with the punters”.’ He did speech marks in the air with his fingers.

  Cathy’s eyes sparked with anger and she gritted her teeth. ‘Don’t you dare try and make out like I was some kind of tart.’

  ‘I’m not. I’m just saying if it was me, and my kid was covered in bruises every time I came home from work, I wouldn’t care how much I liked my job, I’d jack it in and stay home to make sure it never happened again – even if I didn’t really believe him.’

  ‘You can think what you like, but until you’ve been there you haven’t got a clue what it’s like bringing a kid up. A parent knows when their kid’s lying. And you were a born liar – just like your dad.’

  They locked eyes across the table and glared at each other for several long moments, the silence broken only by the sound of their breathing. Inhaling deeply through his nostrils when he’d had enough, Johnny stabbed the butt of his burned-down cigarette into the ashtray, scraped his chair back and stood up.

  ‘So, that’s it?’ Cathy peered up at him with a hint of victory in her eyes. ‘You’re just going to piss off like this is all my fault?’

  ‘No point staying if you still think I’m lying,’ Johnny replied. Calmer now, but no less angry, he added, ‘You’re my mum, and I love you, but you’re wrong about Les. He’s the one who caused this, not me. I just hope you can live with yourself when you realise I’ve been telling the truth all along.’

  ‘Won’t happen.’ Cathy shrugged. ‘You’re lying, and we both know it.’

  Johnny shook his head in disgust. He could understand why she might have believed Les rather than him when he’d been a trouble-making teenager, but not when he’d been a scared little boy crying out for protection. But if the bruises hadn’t alerted her, and she hadn’t thought it strange that a nine-year-old who hadn’t wet the bed in years would suddenly start again for no reason, then nothing was ever going to convince her.

  ‘I’ll see myself out.’ He headed for the door.

  ‘You’ll let me know about the baby, won’t you?’ Cathy called after him. ‘I’m going to be its grandma, so I’ve got a right to see it. I’ll take you to court if I have to.’

  ‘Whatever,’ Johnny called back, slamming the front door firmly shut behind him.

  He trotted down the stairs, walked out into the crisp air and breathed in deeply. It had been going so well to start with, but he should have known it would end like that. As long as his mum insisted on making out like he was the devil and Les was some kind of saint they were never going to rebuild that shattered bridge. Which left him with two choices: wallow in self-pity for the rest of his life – or put the past to bed once and for all and concentrate on the future.

  Opting for the latter, Johnny set off back to the bus stop with a new resolve in his heart. The thought of being responsible for a tiny baby absolutely terrified him, but if he was going to be a parent he’d rather be one like Frankie than like his mum. Frankie might be an evil bastard but no one could question the strength of his love for and loyalty to his own. He worked his arse off to provide for Ruth and her mum and, despite his frequent absences, he’d instilled a real sense of family, respect and decency into Ruth.

  Johnny still wasn’t looking forward to being tied to her for the rest of his life, but now that he’d started to think about the child as being his he was determined to give it a better upbringing than the one he’d had. It hadn’t asked to be conceived, and it deserved to feel safe and loved. Whatever other failings Ruth might have, he had no doubt that she would do her damnedest to be a good mum – and he, in turn, would
try to be a great dad.

  4

  Johnny woke up on the morning of the wedding with the stench of piss in his nostrils, a foul taste in his mouth, a banging head – and absolutely no recollection of the events of the night before. He didn’t even know where he was when he opened his eyes, and it took a few moments before he realised that he was in his own room.

  As he lay there waiting for the bed to stop lurching beneath him, he had a vague recollection of Dave and the lads dragging him out for his stag party. But he had no clue where they had gone, what had happened when they got there, how he’d got home, or who had undressed him and put him to bed.

  Feeling sick, he rolled onto his side and groaned when he felt a telltale damp patch beneath his thigh. He peeped at the other side of the bed through half-closed eyes, and was flooded with relief to see that he was alone. That would have been all he needed – some girl telling everyone that he’d pissed the bed.

  He got up, yanked the shameful sheet off and stuffed it into a plastic bag to take to the launderette. He was pulling on his dressing gown when Dave burst through the door a couple of minutes later.

  ‘My alarm didn’t go off! We’ve got less than half an hour till the car gets here.’

  ‘Sshhh,’ Johnny begged, holding his aching head in his hands.

  ‘Never mind sshhh.’ Dave shoved him out into the hall. ‘Get washed – and hurry up, for fuck’s sake. Frankie’ll kill me if I don’t get you to the church on time.’

  ‘Oh, no,’ Johnny moaned, feeling nauseous again at the mention of that name and the thought of what lay ahead.

  ‘Oh, yes.’ Dave pushed him into the bathroom. ‘Hurry up!’

  Johnny closed the door and took a piss. Then, sitting on the edge of the bath, he filled the sink with cold water and sank his face into it until he felt more awake.

  Dave was dressed and waiting for him in the hall when he came back out.

  ‘Drink that and take them,’ he ordered, shoving a fizzing glass of Alka-Seltzer and two paracetamol tablets into his hand. ‘Then get your suit on. You’ve got fifteen minutes.’