by A B Turner
“Like you said to me once, the past always catches up with you in the end,” I replied, she half-smiled at me,
“No matter how fast you might run.”
I shifted to a more comfortable position and asked her to tell me what had happened, right from the beginning, it felt less aggressive to have her talk than for me to launch into some kind of interrogation, bombarding her with questions and making what was already difficult, a thousand times worse. She expressed her surprise, as she had clearly been expecting me to either rant at her, demanding answers, or maybe even judge,
“I haven’t heard your side yet,” I replied simply, “I can’t really have an opinion.”
She thanked me and began to tell me her story, for the next hour, I sat in silence as she spoke about how young she’d been when she married, how filled with hope for the future and how, when she’d had me, her life seemed complete.
“There were days when I’d look at you, at my life, and it felt impossible anyone could be happier,” she explained wistfully, “I believed it would always be that way, but I was wrong.”
A great sadness filled her eyes, as she went on to explain about how, after I’d been born, my father had changed,
“It was like he was jealous of all the attention I gave you, he became so demanding and when I didn’t do what he wanted, well..” she paused, as if there was just too much emotion for her to continue, but then I could see her swallow hard, “he became abusive.”
“Did he hit you?” I asked quietly, she shook her head,
“Not really, not in the way you mean, I think, it was more about making sure I satisfied his needs as much as I did yours.”
She reached over to her bedside table for a half-drunk glass of water and took a sip, as if she wanted to give me time to digest what she’d just said, after carefully putting it back, she continued,
“When I was unable to do what he wanted, he started going out and finding it with other women, I should have been angry, but the truth was, in the end, I was relieved, which might sound strange, but it’s the truth.”
“But it must have hurt you?” I insisted, as I struggled to believe there was any possible scenario where knowing your partner is routinely cheating on you, could ever be a cause of relief.
“It did, at first, “she admitted, “But you know something? When you get hurt for long enough, you get to a point, where you don’t feel anything anymore, like you can switch it off somehow and I was like that until I met Christopher.”
I shifted again, as she talked about how they’d first met in the park, as she spoke, I noticed her tone completely soften as she relived the memory,
“I was walking with you, it was a beautiful day and you looked so pretty, we were on our way to feed the ducks on the lake, when you ran straight into him, you looked up and said, ‘be more careful’, and he smiled at you…oh that smile.”
Despite myself, I couldn’t help but feel the warmth of the memory, even though I couldn’t remember it myself,
“We started talking about nothing really, maybe the weather, but it was just so perfect, the sunshine, a beautiful place and this wonderful, charming man being so attentive to me, you know there wasn’t a single moment, when it felt wrong,” she said strongly, before adding sadly, “but it was because that’s when everything changed again.”
What had started as an innocent flirtation in a park quickly became a full blown affair, where my father was cold and unfeeling, Christopher was kind, gentle and made her feel completely loved,
“So when he talked about us moving away and starting a new life, I agreed, but only because, at first, it seemed like some kind of fantasy, but then he said he was serious, but we would need money.”
“So you took everything from my father?” I asked coldly, her expression instantly changed from warmth to restrained anger,
“He’d already taken everything from me, aren’t you listening?” she snapped back, we sat in an uncomfortable silence for several minutes until I apologised and asked her to tell me the rest.
“Your father was going away for some conference, so it seemed like the ideal time to go, so I packed our things and we left with Christopher, do you know something strange? As we drove away, I didn’t look back once at the house, not once.”
“What happened then?” while being unable to ignore the similarity between her experience and how I’d felt when I’d first left for the city.
“At first, everything seemed fine until Christopher gave up his job, he said he wanted to find his true calling, so I worked, with the money I’d brought with me and my wages, we did okay until I found out I was expecting Cal.”
“Why was that a problem?”
Mum’s eyes filled with tears, she wiped her face quickly obviously hoping I hadn’t noticed,
“It meant I wouldn’t be able to work anymore so he would have to get a job, we discussed it and I felt everything would work out,” she paused again and shook her head, “I was so stupid.”
“Why?”
“The next day, he said he was going to register for work, he left the house and that was the last I saw of him, when I went to the bank, all the money was gone, he’d taken everything, and yes, I know, before you say it, I didn’t deserve any better after what I’d done myself.”
“I wasn’t going to say that at all,” I protested, even though we both knew I wasn’t being entirely honest, as even though I might not have said the words aloud, they were in my head. Mum smiled at me,
“Well, anyway, I was alone, with two children and I knew I needed to take control of my own life, so I moved here and believed I could start again, I believed your father was long gone and would never bother looking for us, but I was wrong again.”
She went on to explain, it had only been a few months later, when she’d heard from him again and he demanded all the money back that she’d taken, so she’d had to get a second job which was why she had never been home. As she stopped talking to take another drink of water, my mind started to wonder what exactly this second ‘job’ had been, especially as the idea of prostitution had come to me only a few hours earlier. Although I didn’t want to ask, it seemed I would have too until she spoke again,
“I got a second job working for a loan company, it meant going to peoples’ houses and making them take out debts with repayments, I know they can’t afford,” she paused, as if she was recalling the faces of those she’d knowingly led into trouble, before quickly adding,
“I didn’t want to do it, but what choice did I have? It’s good money and it helped me to sort things out.”
Even though, the morality of this work was, at best, debatable, I felt my whole body relax, she must have noticed my reaction because she asked if I was alright,
“I’m fine, “I replied, “I just wasn’t sure what you were going to say.”
She looked slightly puzzled by my answer, but thankfully, didn’t ask any more,
“Well, now you know, “she continued, “I’m getting tired now, is there anything else?”
There seemed like a hundred questions still to ask, but I could see she was starting to fade slightly, so despite my curiosity, I shook my head and stood up,
“Get some rest, we can talk more later,” I said, “There’s no rush.”
She pulled the covers over her shoulders and closed her eyes, I left the room, shut the door as quietly as possible and went downstairs to the kitchen to try and make some kind of sense of her story. As I switched on the kettle, I heard an impatient knock at the front door, I glanced out and saw Kathy’s car parked outside, so even though I was still in my pyjamas, I answered,
“Is everything alright?” I asked, as her face seemed flushed and she was obviously hurried,
“Yes, it’s just my sister called and I’ve got to go to her place for a few days, so I thought I’d drop your pictures in on my way.”
At first, I had no idea what she was talking about until she gave me three neatly-packaged parcels, I recognised them immediately,
&n
bsp; “Cal’s paintings!” I exclaimed, instantly realising, after all the recent drama, I had completely forgotten about them,
“Yes, “Kathy continued, obviously slightly bemused my reaction, “With your Mum having been so poorly, I thought you’d want her to have them now.”
I thanked her and invited her in, but she quickly declined, explaining she wanted to get on her way as soon as possible, so I wished her a safe trip and she hurried back to her waiting car. I waved as she drove away and then went back inside the house, it seemed almost impossible to believe, I’d somehow managed to put all the events in my own life so far to the back of my mind. I carefully put the unopened pictures on the stand in the hallway, deciding I could think about what to do with them later. Now, I just wanted to get dressed and go for a long walk to clear my head, when I’d been outside with Kathy, the sun had climbed higher in the bright blue sky and that thought alone was enough to entice me outside. I knew it would feel good just to feel the wind in my hair, smell the wild flowers and maybe even catch up with Cal and Uncle Jim. As soon as I was ready to go, I paused, wondering if I should tell Mum, but it seemed best to leave her to rest, so I carefully locked the front door and set off down the lane. Within a few steps, I knew this had been a good idea as I took a deep breath and seemed suddenly filled with very sight, sound and smell around me, from the gentle breeze rustling the elegant grass stems, to the unmistakable aroma of the wild garlic which roamed through the hedgerows. Although I must have walked this same path a thousand times or more, this morning felt unlike any other walk and I wasn’t entirely sure of the reason other than perhaps, just being in a wide, open space felt infinitely less oppressive than being in the house. I had come out to think about everything, but, at the moment, my mind felt just too ‘full’ so instead, I consciously decided just to put it all on hold and just absorb my surroundings, there was time enough for thought. As I reached the gate at the end of the lane, I looked across the field and saw Cal with Uncle Jim, they were laughing and looked so relaxed, I briefly felt the slightest twinge of jealousy. How much better things would have been, if Jim had been his real father? He was the one who had always looked out for Cal, had taught him so much and been the person he could always rely on, when things were difficult. I was glad Cal had him in his life, with Mum working all the time and me away in the city, I knew Cal was safe because of Jim and that meant more than anything. As I watched, Cal suddenly noticed me and waved enthusiastically before running across the field towards me. When he reached the gate, his whole face just seemed to beam,
“Hello, it’s good to see you out here again, isn’t it a beautiful day? How’s Mum?”
I smiled,
“She’s resting but she seemed better today, what have you been doing?”
Before he could answer, Jim ambled up next to him, he pushed his hat back and wiped his forehead with his shirt sleeve,
“We’ve been just working with the animals like every day, what brings you out here, Chicky?”
“I just needed to get out of the house,” I answered truthfully, “Anyway, I’ll let you get back to work and see you later for dinner.”
I strolled along the lane and found myself at the gate of the bull field, it was empty now, the grass had grown and waved softly in the breeze, it looked so inviting, I couldn’t resist clambering over the fence. As I walked slowly across the field, I let my hand caress the grass, with the sun now higher in the sky, I realised I couldn’t remember a time when I’d felt more at peace – despite everything that had happened. I walked all the way down to the stream, then followed its course back towards the house, I wanted to check in on Mum and perhaps even ask those questions I had avoided. When I reached the gravel drive, whether it was real or imaginary, I felt a cold chill around my shoulders, I looked up at the sky, expecting to see a cloud had temporarily blocked out the sun, but there was nothing but clear blue above me. I went into the house and called out,
“It’s only me, Mum, I’m going to make some lunch, can I get you anything?”
When she didn’t answer, my first thought was to leave her resting, but despite that thought, I went upstairs and into her room. As the curtains were only partly drawn, it was quite dark, but for a thin sliver of sunlight across the floor. I could see her quite clearly, her head resting on the pillow, one arm over the covers while the rest of her body was tucked.
“Mum?” I asked quietly, wanting to both not disturb her but also needing to see her make some movement, but there was nothing. I went over to the bed,
“Mum, are you alright?” I asked again, this time with more urgency, but still, she didn’t move at all, I reached over and touched her face. As soon as my fingertips touched her cheek, I knew she was gone, there was only the slightest warmth to her cheek, but it was clear, this was due more to the warm blankets than any sign of life. I leaned over to see if I could hear her breathe, to see if there was even the slightest flicker of her long eyelashes, but again, there was nothing. I wanted to stay with her, so it took all my strength to make myself stand up and go back downstairs to call for an ambulance, I knew it was probably hopeless, but there was the slight chance I was wrong. I sat on the stairs while I waited for the ambulance, I felt ridiculously young and I wasn’t sure why, other than maybe, I didn’t know what to do at all. When the ambulance arrived, the two paramedics raced upstairs carrying their equipment, but after only a matter of minutes, one slowly walked back down and confirmed my belief, my mother had died. Although there would need to be a post mortem, the medic explained, bearing in mind my mother’s recent medical issues, the chances were, she’d had another stroke only this one, was obviously far more devastating. As he talked, I felt as if I was watching myself, nodding and acknowledging the sympathetic comments, he kept asking me if I was alright and did I want them to call anyone.
“No, thank you, I have to tell my brother and try to sort out what I have to do,” I replied, my voice sounded far away to me, but perhaps that was just a way of coping with what had happened. The medic called for another kind of ambulance which would take Mum to the hospital, where the post mortem would happen.
“There aren’t any suspicious circumstances, I believe, so it should be straightforward,” he continued, “we will stay until they arrive.”
I thanked him, then he walked back upstairs and I wandered into the kitchen and sat at the table. The house was quiet, but for the low murmuring of the medics in Mum’s room, it all felt so unreal to me and so unfair, we had just started to connect and now she was gone, there were so many things left unsaid. I had been angry with her forever and any hope of being able to really reconcile anything had faded, in the time it had taken me to go for a walk. Suddenly the door burst open, Cal raced in,
“I saw the ambulance, what’s happened?” he said breathlessly, his eyes scanning my face for some kind of answer,
“Sit down, Cal,” I replied quietly, but he stood there, almost defiantly glaring at me,
“What’s going on? And don’t treat me like a kid anymore!” he snapped, “If something’s happened, just tell me.”
I sighed and looked at him, as soon as our eyes met, I could see, he already knew the answer to his own question. He slumped into a chair, his large eyes welling up,
“She’s gone?” he asked, his voice little more than a whisper, I slowly nodded, not really knowing what to say to him so I reached across the table and held his hand.
“But how?” he continued, “You told me she was going to be alright, you said she was getting better, you lied to me, why did you lie to me?” his tone was now bordering on hysterical, accusing me of knowing all along she was going to die. As I tried to reply, to tell him the truth, he just became more and more angry, until he virtually leapt up from the table and pulled me towards him with such force, it took all my strength not to fall over, By now he was screaming at me, blaming me for everything, saying I should never have come back, how it had all been fine until I’d moved here, they’d been happy and now everything was
ruined.
“I know Cal!” I yelled back, “I know I should have stayed away, does that make you happy? Does that make any of this better?”
His whole face seemed to flare with pure rage, he raised his hand as if to hit me, but a stronger hand took hold of his arm, Cal spun round and found Uncle Jim standing there, he said nothing, just looked straight at my brother, who crumpled into his arms, sobbing uncontrollably.
“It’s going to be alright, buddy, I’m here,” he said softly, before glancing up at me, “I’ll take care of him.”
He led Cal out of the back door and I sank back on to my chair, before I had a chance to even think, I heard another vehicle pull up outside, the medic appeared and explained, they’d come to take Mum. Once more, it felt as if I was watching a film, it all seemed to be happening around me, as if I wasn’t really there at all. I heard myself thanking the various people who came and went into the house, but I had no real input into what was being said, my mind felt as if it was in a kind of fog. When the house was empty again, the silence was almost crushing, I just sat motionless for hours, trying to do things without really achieving anything. It was dark everywhere, when I finally seemed to reconnect with the real world again, I had been startled out of my stupor-like state by the phone ringing. I’d wanted to ignore it, but felt compelled to answer, in case it was something to do with Mum, but it was someone else entirely,
“Hello, it’s me, Caroline from the gallery, how are you?” her voice sounded hesitant, I could tell from just her tone, this was not a call she had chosen to make,
“I’ve been better,” I heard myself say, “How are you?”
“I’m fine, look, I’m sorry to bother you, but some bills have been forwarded to the gallery, things owed from your apartment, I wasn’t sure what you wanted me to do…”
Even though I hadn’t wanted to say anything to her about Mum, I found myself interrupting anyway,
“Caroline, my mother just died, so do whatever it is you need to do, send them, throw them in the bin, whatever you feel is best.”