What Goes Around... (17 page)

‘Lucy?’ How can it be as hard for Lucy? It’s not as if he walked out, it’s not as if he simply turned his back on his family and left! She could have anyone – and that includes my son-in-law. She’s gorgeous; she takes care of herself, her home, her body. I’m furious with him for not supporting
me. ‘Why would you defend her?’ I feel this surge of loathing, not towards Lucy; instead it’s devoted entirely to me. It comes up now and then, not so often these days, but when it does, I feel as if I’m going to choke.

‘I’m not defending her, Gloria.’ I hear his voice and he’s calm when I’m not. ‘I just…’ he goes quiet, it’s as if he wants to say something but has changed his mind. I won’t let her ruin this too, I will not let Lucy, and my hate for her, ruin another thing in my life. I take deep breaths, I pour cool water, I can’t explain it here. I just pour cool water on the hate inside and then I look down and it’s his hand I’m holding. Paul
’s hand. It’s warm and it’s holding mine back and I’m not alone with my fear. For the first time, I don’t feel so alone.

We’re on the second bottle by the time he kisses me but I know it isn't the wine that has lowered our inhibitions, it's the conversation, it's the trust
– it's finding another person who gets you. For the first time in my life I feel wrapped in understanding.

The wine certainly helped in the bedroom though!

You try getting your kit off for the first time with a new man, when you’re in your fifties – I defy anyone to do it sober.

I’m not telling you about that though!

Lucy

It is, Luke agrees, a shit time to sell.

I own an £800,000 house that used to be worth 1.2.

And yes, while I know a thing or three about real estate, for a long time
, I’ve been trying to ignore that fact.

Still, whatever its value
, it’s paid off now thanks to mortgage insurance, but it’s rather more complicated than that.

It would seem that he’s cashed in one life insurance policy without my knowing and there was a loan he had me take out a couple of years ago, he told me it was to do with tax and I just signed for it.

Well, I’m liable for that.

And
, I have to then tell Luke about another loan I took out without him knowing, because he got so annoyed all the time about how much the pony was costing.

Then there’s my secret, secret credit card that stays hidden in my bag.

It’s not exactly a fun Saturday morning.

It soon gets worse.

‘You can use the money that’s been left in trust to Charlotte to pay her school fees,’ Luke says, ‘but does she really need to go to such an expensive school?’

‘She’s not changing schools.’ I shake my head. ‘And why should those three get a lump sum, to do what they want with, while Charlotte has to pay her own school fees?

‘Because
those three
,’ Luke says with more than an edge of pissed offedness at my churlishness, ‘didn’t get private school educations. Nor did they get a pony a piece.’

It’s a mess, I know that, but it’s not unsalvageable I’ve decided.

I’ve been doing a lot of thinking in recent days – in an effort to not think about what happened with Noel and what Gloria may or may not have seen, I’ve been trying to sort out my life and I’ve come up with a solution.

‘I’m going to take out a mortgage on the house.’

‘And how are you going to pay the mortgage, Lucy?’ Luke just doesn't give me an inch. ‘With the money you borrow? You don't even work. Do you really think the bank
is going to give you a mortgage just like that? You've got debt everywhere and more on the way if you keep this house.’

‘Luke!’ Jess fires another warning. We’ve been going for about an hour now and it’s just getting worse. ‘Go easy.’

‘And what will that solve?’ Luke frowns at his wife but he saves the big frown for me. ‘The trouble is Lucy, you want to carry on exactly as you did before but from what I can see, the pair of you were heading for a big fall anyway. You need to downsize.’

‘I know that!’ My voice is shrill and I struggle to keep it down but I have to because Charlotte
’s upstairs in her room. ‘Do you think I don't know that?  You carry on like I'm some greedy bimbo.’

‘He’s not,’ Jess attempts.

‘Yes, he is…’ I am just clawing with panic. ‘I have to keep things stable. I have to….’

‘You can’t afford to.’

To Luke it really is that simple – well what would he know? Nothing. He has no idea what I’m going through, what I’m really going through.

‘I went to see the GP about Charlotte.’ I drop my voice to a whisper. ‘She’s wetting the bed,’ I tell Luke
. I just want him to understand. ‘Doctor Patel says to try and keep things as even as possible for her, for at least a year.’

‘What if you can’t?’

‘I
have
to.’

‘Jess,’ Luke turns to his wife. ‘Why don’t you take Charlotte to the park or…’

Jess looks at me and I nod, because I don't want to say things that Charlotte might overhear.

‘I know it’s not the same as losing her
father,’ I say once we’re alone. ‘But losing Noodle really upset her and then it was her Dad…’

Luke nods.

‘I can't take her away from her friends at school.  I know I might have to at some point but I just can't do it to her now. The same way I can't tell her that she's losing her home.’

‘Lucy,’ he remains unmoved. ‘There’s no shame in selling your home; you won’t be the only
one. We’re in the middle of a global…

Do
n’t even go there, I snarl inside.

I don’t care about some global f
inancial crisis. I don’t care if governments have fucked up - they can sort it out amongst themselves but I am not losing my home.

I tell him why.

I tell this cold, immutable man my reasons.

I’m never honest with anyone, no-one knows, well, my husband knew some it and he threw it back at me at times but, for my daughter I’ll be honest.

I’ll be honest if I have to be, because I am
not
losing my home.

‘I’m not leaving here
, Luke,’ I tell him. ‘Charlotte’s getting her year of calm. I put up with enough of his shit over the years just to keep it.’

I see him frown.

‘I lied,’ I say to him. ‘There were never going to be any more babies. You all think I trapped him by getting pregnant; well you’re all wrong. I have never been more terrified than I was when I found out that I was having a baby. I have never felt more scared than the first time I held her. I swore things would be different for her than they were for me…’

‘Lucy…’

‘No!’ I am outside of myself. For once I don’t care what anyone thinks of me. I don’t care what he sees just so long as he sees my reason. ‘Everyone loves Valerie,’ I snarl. ‘Everyone thinks I’m too harsh on her, well that bitch was absent for the first sixteen years of my life. We lived in the slummiest flat and I was the fat kid that smelt.’ I am so, so angry. ‘Because of her I went through hell. “I don’t think Lucy Jones wipes her bottom.”’ I tell him my shame, I tell him how I found out I smelt. I tell him how lonely and scary it was. I tell him how many different homes I lived in the many, many times Mum was taken off to dry out. I tell him how petrifying it was to go to a new foster home and to lie there at night, trying to stay awake, so you don’t piss the bed. I tell him that no, I’m not allergic to ice cream, it was my only friend. I forget to be posh; I drop my accent, as I shout. I drop the pretence. I’m every inch an Essex girl as I fight for what’s mine and Charlotte is mine and I’m keeping the house!

‘I am.’ I am standing there right in his face and he just stands there looking at me.

‘It’s okay,’ he says.

Just two words.

Two words that I so needed to hear.

‘It’s going to be okay, Lucy.’

I feel my terror leave
.

We sit back down at the table and finally we
’re actually talking.

While I want things to carry on as before, at some level I know
that it can't. I just want this to be as gentle on her as possible, which is the one common ground between us. He crunches the figures as I try to find statements and we quietly work towards that goal.

‘It’s hard to get a mortgage.’ Luke looks at the numbers in front of him. ‘They don’t just give them out these days.’

‘I know that,’ I say.

I do know that.

I know something else too - I'm going to have to get a job.

I hear a noise and I stand and look out of the window - Jess's car is pulling up. I watch Charlotte climb out and she so doesn't deserve this. I look at her little face and she’s so pale and all that exuberance just seems to have left her.

She’s not losing her home; I won’t let her lose it.

I just need that year.

I’ll get another husband.

A richer one.

A younger one.

Anger fizzes inside me again and I spit it out with a single word. ‘Bastard.’

‘Because he didn't have enough life-insurance?’

Ah yes, I forget at times - Luke was his friend not mine. I'm the bitch, the gold-digger. I must remember his opinion of me.

‘Yes.’ I don’t even turn around as I speak. ‘I’m pissed off because he didn’t leave me enough money.’ I watch my daughter and I say it again. ‘Bastard.’

An hour of just us and Luke’s rapidly losing patience with me. ‘What are you so angry with him for Lucy? He didn't choose to die.’

I’m still watching my daughter through the window. She’s such a good girl, she’s laughing at something Jess has said but it’s a little too late and I can tell she’s pretending. My heart just squeezes. So much so, that again, for a moment, I forget to lie.

I forge
t for a moment who I am supposed to be.

The woman I invented.

The one with the perfect life.

I forget, so much so, that I answer him.
‘That smile on his face when he went out.’ I head for the door to greet Charlotte and I toss the words out over my shoulder but I don’t need to turn and see his reaction. I don’t care about Luke’s response. I say it out loud for the first time, purely for me. ‘He didn't get it from me.’

Gloria

‘She’s doing well.’

It annoys me that the nurse just hands Daisy back to me and starts to fill in the book. Yes, Daisy’s doing well but what about her mum?

What about me?

I think I’ve been too nice about it, I think I’ve said that I’m coping too well. I’m starting to find out that a
lot
of people are going through this. A few women at work, I’ve realised, are raising their grandkids. I just didn’t know and I never thought it might happen to me - that Eleanor would, if I let her, happily sign off on her child.

As I head out to the car with Daisy, I want to turn around and go back in. I want to tell the nurse that no, things are not okay.

She’s six weeks old and her mother is having nothing to do with her.

I’m sick of softly, softly.

I’m sick of my beaming smile when Eleanor deigns to give her daughter a bottle.

And I’m
furious
that Noel was round there the other day.

Laura told me.

He’s been round a few times.

It’s been churning inside me since I found out.

I’m sick of slowly, slowly because I’ve a feeling that this might take, oh, around sixteen years.

I’m not joking.

They’ll slot back into their perfect lives and just ignore their problem.

‘I’m going out tonight.’

I ring her while I’m still angry.

I sit in the car park and I call her.

‘Oh?’

‘So, do you want me to bring Daisy over?’

There’s silence, a long one and then she starts to cry. ‘Mum, please.’

‘Or, you can come over to mine and look after her.’

‘I’m not ready.’

‘Well guess what,’ I shout. ‘I’m not ready either. And,’ I am, I bloody well am, ‘I
am
going out tonight.’

I regret shouting when I hang up.

I know that I’m making a mess of things; I know that I’m being too harsh. I drive towards home and pass a take-away. I think about stopping there and getting lunch.

‘Do you really want that piece of chicken, Gloria?’ That’s what Beryl tells us to stop and do. Yes, I really want that piece of chicken. Some lovely
deep-fried chicken and they do mashed potato and gravy too. I’m sick of my diet, it’s not working, I didn’t even lose a pound last week. I don’t want to go and get weighed tonight; I know I’ll have put on.