My Daughter, My Mother (41 page)

They parted with a hug and Joanne realized she was lucky. Some mothers-in-law would have taken sides with a vengeance, no matter what their sons had done.

As she walked out to the traffic-clogged Dudley Road, she felt drained and exhausted. Nothing could go back to being just as it was. She saw that now, even if she had not seen it before. It wasn’t just that she had left home: everything had changed. It was like rebuilding a house after an earthquake – if anything
could
be rebuilt. She and Dave would have to start from a quite new place.

Mom had not been quite as snotty with her as she expected, when she’d gone to drop Amy off late that morning, before the hospital visit.

‘You’d better come in,’ was all she said when Joanne arrived. Her tone was ominous and Joanne expected a diatribe, but it never came. She’d been away from home nearly three weeks – maybe they’d all got past the explosive stage and come to terms with it a bit. And Wendy would have talked to Margaret, as well as Karen.

Margaret had greeted Amy in her usual way, and Amy looked at first dazed, and then delighted to be back with Nanna in a familiar place at last.

‘You’re going to the hospital then?’ Margaret said, going to the ashtray on the TV to stub out her cigarette. ‘What’s actually up with him?’

‘I don’t know really.’

‘Karen says he’s had a breakdown – but you know what she’s like,’ Margaret said, as if she doubted anyone did ever really have a breakdown and considered such a thing to be some sort of myth. She often seemed annoyed with other people for having emotions.

‘Anyroad, go and do what you need to do,’ she said gruffly. ‘There’s no need to come carting over here all again later – your father can drop her back.’

‘I’ll have to meet him in town,’ Joanne said. ‘I’m not allowed to tell him where the refuge is.’

Now that she had seen Dave, and knew she could move back home without him being there, Joanne couldn’t get there fast enough. Suddenly the prospect of another night in the refuge was unthinkable.

She hurried to the nearest callbox.

‘Mom?’ She felt excited. ‘I’m going home. I’ve got to get my stuff, so tell Dad he can drop Amy off at home. I should be there after five o’clock!’

Fifty-One

Joanne spent her first half-hour at home wandering from room to room. Every inch of it was so familiar, but it felt as if she had been away for years.

It was upstairs that made her emotional: the sight of Amy’s little bed with her bears and other toys rowed up on it, and their bed – hers and Dave’s. She had pulled the duvet up over it before leaving, and it seemed just as she had left it. It was remembering how things had been when they were good that hurt the most.
I want my man back . . .
Thinking of all the nights they had lain there together, she was almost overwhelmed with sadness and longing and made herself go back downstairs.

She was restless waiting for Amy to arrive. Instead of sitting fidgeting, she hurried out to buy milk, called in to see the Coles next door, then unpacked while drinking tea. At six she turned on the TV, realizing that she had heard no news in weeks. Horrifying images met her eyes: faces honed razor-sharp by starvation, clusters of flies round their eyes and mouths – the worst famine in recorded history in Ethiopia. Unable to bear the thin wails of anguish, she turned it off again.

‘Thanks for everything,’ she’d said to Marcia, who had hugged her goodbye and wished her luck, saying, in the nicest possible way, that they didn’t want to see her back again. Megan would be round to see them both very soon. Marcia offered advice and caution.

‘Be strong, girl – he’s got to know he can’t get away with it again. I’ve got faith in you.’ She’d held Joanne’s shoulders and looked deep into her eyes.

‘Thanks, Marcia,’ Joanne had said tearfully. ‘Thanks for everything.’

Sue hadn’t been there, but Joanne parted with Jackie as well. She was sad at the thought she would probably never see Marcia again. Doreen’s doleful face had lifted into some sort of smile as they said goodbye and wished each other luck. Mariam, to Joanne’s surprise, held out her arms and they hugged. By this time Gina had left (noisily and emotionally) to resume her life with the man Joanne thought of as ‘psycho Benny’ – without their children. Gina’s life was too awful to think about: the refuge would almost certainly see her again.

The letterbox rattled and she leapt to her feet. Fred was at the door with Amy, and Karen as well.

‘Welcome back, love,’ he said awkwardly. But there was affection in his voice and sadness, not judgement.

‘Thanks, Dad,’ Joanne said, tears coming on again. ‘You coming in for a cup of tea?’

Amy was running round, squeaking excitedly as she recognized toys she had not seen in weeks.

‘How’s Dave?’ Karen asked as Joanne put the kettle on. The sisters stood in the kitchen, and Fred stayed with Amy.

‘I don’t know. Not too good,’ Joanne said. ‘He wouldn’t really speak. It’s . . . it’s like he’s in shock or something. Like someone who’s been in an explosion. I even wondered at first,’ she confided, ‘whether he was putting it on, sort of thing.’

Karen had on her listening face. ‘I think it’s gone too far for that.’

‘Well, I know – now I’ve seen him.’

As they drank their tea in the back room, they talked a bit about her visiting Dave at Wendy’s in Northfield.

‘It’s a bit of a jaunt for yer,’ Fred said.

‘Maybe it’s a good thing he’s not too close,’ Karen said. ‘And his car’s still at work, isn’t it? So he’s not going to turn up too easily.’

Joanne didn’t feel like talking about it much. She needed time to think about what she was going to do.

‘Mom seemed all right yesterday,’ she said cautiously. ‘How d’you think she’s doing?’

‘Oh, not too bad,’ Fred said.

Realizing he would have said much the same if she had just contracted bubonic plague, Joanne looked at Karen.

‘She’s going along,’ Karen said. ‘I think she’s coming round a bit. Yesterday she did say she thought she’d been a bit hard on you.’

‘Did she?’ Joanne said, feeling relieved.

Karen leaned forward. ‘I think she needs to get out a bit, so she’s not so sunk into herself. Actually, I had this idea about something she might like. The library are putting on this thing – it’s called a reminiscence group – and they’re going to be talking about the war first of all: people of Mom and Dad’s age and older. They’re saying people ought to record their memories before it’s too late. She never talks about it, but I thought it might be a good way of, you know, sort of getting her going on things. Maybe even make some friends . . .’

‘Can’t see her going to that,’ Fred said gloomily.

‘To be honest, nor can I,’ Joanne said. As usual, she saw, they were all tiptoeing round Mom as if she was a ticking bomb. ‘Have you asked her?’

‘Well, I did show her the leaflet,’ Karen said. ‘It’s on a Thursday morning. She didn’t say no straight away.’

‘But she didn’t say yes, either?’

‘What she actually said was, “What’s all this rubbish?” You know what she’s like. But she did pick the leaflet up again.’

‘What – to put it in the bin?’ Joanne suggested.

‘No! That was the thing. She put it down by the phone. Anyway, I did say to her I’d take the day off and go with her the first time, if she decided to go. I thought it might be interesting. But we’re quite busy at work. Now you’re back, I wondered if maybe you could go?’

‘You mean if she suddenly decides to go?’

‘Well, yeah.’

‘But she won’t, will she?’

Once they had gone and she had Amy tucked up in bed, Joanne began to feel very stressed and uneasy. The nights were drawing in and it was soon dark. Several times she went to the front door to make sure it was locked and that the chain was fastened. Then she checked the back. She realized she still had a split image of Dave in her mind. There was the helpless, seemingly broken man lying prone in a hospital bed. She recalled his tears, his desperate silence. Surely no one could put that on? But the controlling, scheming, violent Dave still haunted her mind. Did he know she was home? What if he discharged himself and came back? What might he do then?

Mrs Coles had told her to call in any time she was worried or wanted anything. But Joanne didn’t feel like sitting with the Coles, kind as they were. And she couldn’t keep phoning Karen. Instead, she searched her bag and found the scrap of paper on which Sooky had written her number, saying it was fine to call her.

‘Are you sure?’ Joanne had said. ‘It wouldn’t get you into trouble?’

‘No, of course not! You can phone any time. Why not?’

She felt nervous dialling the number, unsure what to expect, and once it was ringing she almost chickened out and put the receiver down. But she was in need of a friend.

A male voice answered, nasal and not all that old. One of her brothers, Joanne thought, not her father. ‘Yeah? Hello?’

‘Hello, can I speak to Sooky please?’

‘Sooky? Yeah, hang on . . . Sukhdeep – phone!’ The yell switched into Punjabi. There was an uncomfortable pause, then she heard Sooky’s gentle voice say, ‘Hello?’

When Joanne told her who it was, she sounded pleased. ‘You phoned! Oh, it’s really nice to hear from you! How are you?’

‘I’m back home,’ Joanne said, feeling her composure slipping. She wanted Sooky to say that she’d come round now – keep her company.

‘Are you? That’s great. I mean, is it? What about . . . ?’

Joanne explained and Sooky was full of sympathy. ‘Look, I’m just starting on my first assignment tonight, but why don’t you come over with Amy one afternoon this week? Priya would love to see her. It’d be fun.’

They agreed on an afternoon. She would fit visiting Dave around it somehow. When she’d put the phone down, Joanne sat for a long time, hugging her knees, rocking gently back and forth.

The next afternoon she took Amy to visit Dave. She was glad he was still in the hospital, a public, neutral place. Wendy would be along at some point as well. She felt very grateful to her mother-in-law, who despite her ditzy ways could be suddenly practical.

Amy caught sight of him along the ward and cried, ‘Dadda! Dadda!’, squirming to be put down.

Hearing Amy’s voice, Dave turned his head and Joanne saw a smile appear on his lips. She put Amy down and the little girl ran to her father. Dave managed to reach down and lift her up onto his body, cuddling her tightly. His chest began to heave. He was holding her too tightly, and as Joanne reached the bed she saw his face contort and Amy was pulling away, panicking, crying out, ‘No! Don’t like it!’

‘Sorry – sorry, bab,’ he said releasing her. ‘I never meant . . .’

Amy was sliding off the bed with a tight, terrified look. She ran to Joanne and clung to her leg, bursting into tears.

‘Oh, Amy, it’s all right!’ Joanne said, upset. She could see the terrible hurt on Dave’s face, knew he had not meant to frighten his daughter. But she could feel all Amy’s distress and shock in this strange place, after all the changes of the past weeks.

‘Oh dear, what’s the matter?’ One of the nurses was down their end of the bay and came over to them.

‘It’s me,’ Dave choked. ‘I can’t even get that right.’

‘It’s okay,’ Joanne said, heaving Amy up into her arms. She felt like crying herself. ‘She’s had a lot of changes and she’s not used to seeing her dad like this.’

‘No – it’s a funny old place, hospital, isn’t it?’ The nurse was middle-aged and sweet, and jollied Amy along, though Joanne just wished she’d go away. ‘You can come and talk to your daddy, can’t you? He’s just a bit poorly, but he’s going to get better.’

She went off, a clipboard in her hand, but her last remarks were cheering.

Joanne sat down. To her surprise, Dave talked this time, at least about himself. That was all right. She knew they couldn’t start on all the big things – not in here.

‘They’re sending me home tomorrow – to Mom’s, I mean.’

‘That’s good,’ Joanne said cautiously.

‘Someone came to see me yesterday: some sort of psycho person . . .’

‘Psychiatrist you mean?’

‘I dunno, maybe. She said she thought I had a kind of breakdown – nervous exhaustion she said. Summat like that. She asked a few things and said a few other things, but I couldn’t tell you what they were now. Summat about stuff I’ve buried needing to come out.’

‘So – you need rest, that sort of thing?’

‘Yeah.’ He sighed, looking up at the ceiling. He wasn’t propped up so high today, was almost lying down. ‘I’ve got pills of some sort.’ Awkwardly he added, ‘And she said about counselling – summat like that.’

Joanne was amazed at his acceptance of this.

‘D’you think that might be a good idea?’ she asked cautiously.

He turned to her, seeming to need her approval. ‘Well, I need summat, don’t I? I can’t go on the way I was.’

‘Yeah, I s’pose,’ she agreed.

There was a silence. He looked at Amy. ‘I’m sorry, pet – I never meant to scare yer.’

Amy looked at him still with solemn reproach.

‘Friends?’ He held out his hand.

Amy hesitated. Then she nodded, and began to smile.

Fifty-Two

That Friday morning Margaret found she had done all her housework. She didn’t even need any groceries. So she did something she hadn’t done in years. Pulling on an extra cardi, she set off up the road to the park, on a walk for its own sake.

What would Karen say? Mom, boring old Mom, doing something different! The thought made her feel rather pleased with herself, as if she had a special secret all of her own.

It was only ten in the morning, sun and cloud alternating. The park was quiet, except for a couple of mothers pushing buggies and a scruffy man on a bench, who clearly had nowhere else to go.

She walked fast at first, glad to have a physical outlet for the feelings that kept surging through her. More than anything she felt cheated of the life she might have had, right from the word go. If only Mom had not been sick, if the war had not ruined everything, giving her a taste of something so much better than she had ever had before or since – a paradise snatched away. And then all these years she’d spent in thrall to Valium, a half-life, spent with a man who was only half a person.