I’m kerb-crawling Megan as she walks to school. It’s not exactly the start to my day I’d planned. When I told my daughter over her Weetabix that I’d be escorting her to the school gates to make sure she didn’t truant again, she either thought I was bluffing or was hoping to catch me unprepared as she threw her spoon down, grabbed her school bag and stormed out of the cabin.
She was wrong on both counts. Keys in hand, I followed her, jumping into my battered old red Volvo and I’m now crawling behind her at approximately three miles per hour.
As we reach the Park exit, I draw alongside her and wind the window down. The weather has finally broken and rain specks my hands and face.
‘I’m going to follow you all the way to school, so I suggest you get in before one of your friends sees you.’
The public humiliation of your mother driving a metre behind you swings it and she gets into the car. Arms crossed and body twisted, she’s practically facing the passenger door, reminding me I’m still public enemy numbers one, two and three after last night’s clumsy attempts to understand why she skipped school.
I returned from Penny’s to find Megan where I’d left her – sulking in her room. After a gentle interrogation along the lines of ‘I won’t be angry, if you tell me the truth’, she finally admitted she was with Jay Cox because ‘he’s going through a tough time and just likes to talk to me’. It took considerable effort not to roll my eyes.
‘Can’t he do that outside of school hours?’
This was a genuine attempt on my part to be reasonable, but I get that it sounded like a cheap shot, earning me Megan’s special ‘you understand nothing’ look.
‘He’s feeling really low at the moment.’
‘It would help if he laid off the drugs – speaking of which, if he’s offered you any, I’ll kill him.’
‘I knew I shouldn’t have told you.’
‘Look, I’m sorry for Jay. I know he’s had it hard, but you’re my concern, not him, and he’s dangerous, Megan. He gets other kids hooked on drugs.’
‘He wouldn’t do that to me. He’s not like that.’
It’s at times like these that she reminds me of her dad, Julian. What I can remember of him. It’s more than the auburn hair and freckles. It’s the way she holds back on me, a sense of saying one thing, but meaning another, often the complete opposite. In Julian’s case, he told me he loved me and would stand by me, both of which were total bollocks.
‘Oh, Meggy, don’t be so naive. He’s a smackhead. That’s what smackheads do.’
‘No, he isn’t. God, you moan about Nana being judgemental, but you’re just as bad.’
‘No, I’m not and, in Jay’s case, I’m right.’
‘I hate you.’
Well done, Ally. How to lose daughters and isolate them. So, this morning when I woke up, I decided it was out with bad cop and in with conciliatory cop.
‘Look, I don’t want to give you a hard time about Jay.’
Megan stares out the passenger window.
‘Then trust me. Jay and I just talk. That’s all. He’s a friend and he’s never offered me anything. Not even a can of cider. He wouldn’t.’ She throws me a side glance. ‘I told him about Sean.’
Sean? Where did he come from? He’s not been in our lives for years.
‘What’s Sean got to do with anything?’
My question is met with silence, but it doesn’t matter because I’ve worked it out for myself. There’s only one reason why Megan would speak his name now.
‘You’ve seen him, haven’t you?’ She looks straight ahead and nods, which both horrifies and confuses me as I’d heard he’d moved away. ‘Where?’ She’s fighting herself about what to say, what to censor. ‘Just tell me, Megan.’
‘He’s working on the roof at school.’
‘Why didn’t you tell me?’
‘I didn’t want to upset you. I saw him a couple of days ago, but yesterday he said hello and I freaked out. I knew Jay would be around, so I called him and met him at the rec.’
She expels this like a breath she’s held on to for too long. What else is she holding on to?
‘Did – did Sean scare you?’
She nods and it crushes me, triggering a well-worn self-imposed trial by questions. How could I have ever let him into our lives? That’s an easy one. Meggy and I were living in a shithole of a council flat on the Tarka Estate and Sean, a handsome roofer, built like a prop forward, offered us a way out. We were married six months later.
How could I have let him hit me? I don’t know. It wasn’t a nought to sixty thing, but small, barely noticeable, steps until finally I accepted everything was my fault, including his violence. The irony is he divorced me on the grounds of my unreasonable behaviour. Penny told me it was the quickest way to get him out of our lives. It felt like he’d beaten me up all over again, but that was then and this is now. This time, I’m not going to stand by and do nothing.
‘I’ll speak to the school. Get him removed. Meg, I’m sorry.’ My apology joins a thousand others, but all the sorrys in the world can’t erase the memory of her mum being pinned against a wall by her throat.
‘Thank you. Sorry I bunked off. Seeing Sean freaked me out. I didn’t know what else to do.’
‘That’s OK. It doesn’t matter now.’ We’ve nearly reached the school gates, but there’s something else bothering me. ‘I understand you were upset about Sean, but why did you go to Bernadette’s after you met Jay?’
She doesn’t miss a beat.
‘Nana understands me. She knows how hard it is for me. She’s got time for me.’
‘Well, there’s a first time for everything.’ I can’t help myself. A quip for every occasion, it’s my public defence system, cauterizing any conversation that threatens emotional discomfort, but the message comes over loud and clear from Megan. Bernadette’s there for me. You’re not.
I pull up near the school gates. She opens the car door, but I grab her arm.
‘Promise me you won’t bunk off again.’ But she just shrugs. ‘I love you, you know.’
She stares at me and I brace myself for the usual ‘whatever’. Then something seems to give. Anger and resentment, her constant companions these days, look away for a moment and the corners of her mouth turn upwards, even if they don’t quite make it to a smile.
‘I know.’
‘And I promise you I will make this right.’
She reclaims her arm and slams the car door behind her, but it’s enough. For now.
Rain streaks on the windscreen, producing a blurred and distorted version of Megan walking away. I flick my wipers on, bringing her back into pin-sharp clarity. She merges with her classmates and her face bursts into smiles. One of them says something to her and she throws her head back with laughter.
She disappears through the school gates, but I linger, scanning the entrance for signs of my ex. My head bobs from side to side trying to spot him in among the slither of black blazers. I know he must be here somewhere, but I can’t see him.
I unclip my seatbelt just as my phone rings. It’s Jake, asking if I’m nearly at the office in a way that suggests I need to be there now. He’s going back to Exeter and there’s been some kind of incident at the Commissioner’s house and they’re clamouring for me to attend. I tell him I’m on my way and ring off. I glance back at the school and then at my phone on the seat beside me. Maybe Sean isn’t in today. Maybe Megan will be able to stay out of his way. I fasten my seatbelt and turn on the ignition. I wait for a gap in the traffic and am about to pull into it when I notice I am gripping the steering wheel so tightly the blood has leached from my knuckles.