part0021

I t’s still dark as we leave the hospital. And cold. I sit huddled in the back seat of the car and shove my hands underneath my armpits to keep them warm.

Uncle Ralph is not happy; it didn’t help that when we came out of A&E there was a parking ticket on his car.

‘For fuck’s sake,’ he said loudly, ripping the ticket off the windscreen. ‘A parking ticket? A PARKING TICKET? What sort of traffic warden works through the night?’ He screwed it up in a ball and threw it on the floor and kicked it and then marched around to the driver’s side of the car and got in.

Auntie Bridget tried to shush him, but only half-heartedly. I think she’d had enough by then. I ran over and picked the ticket up, smoothed it out and put it in my pocket. Dad will probably pay it.

We race along the empty roads in silence, the only sound the roar of the heater on full blast. Eventually Uncle Ralph breaks the silence.

‘I’ll text Louise and tell her we won’t be in today.’

‘I was very impressed with the staff at the hospital, very nice, I thought.’ Auntie Bridget looks around from the front passenger seat and smiles. This is met with a snort from Uncle Ralph.

‘Yeah, apart from that cow on reception. Got a good mind to put a complaint in about her.’

Auntie Bridget looks back at me and smiles and winks. ‘Apart from her, I meant.’

‘And the traffic warden,’ Uncle Ralph barks. He’s not happy.

‘Look,’ says Dad from the seat next to me. ‘I’m really sorry you’ve all had a wasted night but there’s nothing I can do about it.’

‘Don’t be silly,’ says Auntie Bridget. ‘You weren’t to know and nor were we. You’re okay and that’s the main thing isn’t it, Ralph?’

Uncle Ralph doesn’t say anything and changes gear brutally as we turn into our street.

‘Ralph?’ Dad puts his hand on Uncle Ralph’s shoulder.

We pull up in front of our house and come to an abrupt halt as Uncle Ralph slams on the brakes while simultaneously yanking the handbrake on.

‘No, it’s not your fault, mate, course it ain’t.’ Uncle Ralph turns the engine off and rubs his eyes. ‘But I thought you were going to fucking die. Next time you have a hot curry, mate, take some Rennies, have a shit and save us all the worry.’

‘Please.’ I sit down wearily at the table and watch as Dad fills the kettle and drops bread into the toaster. Skipper appears from the lounge and stands blinking at us from the kitchen doorway. When he’s satisfied it’s us, he makes a bee line for the back door and Dad opens it and lets him out.

‘He must be bursting,’ I say.

‘Poor little sod. Bet he wondered what the hell was going on.’

‘He probably slept most of the time.’

‘Yeah.’ Dad shakes his head in disbelief. ‘God knows what that doctor at the hospital thinks of me. There’s me thinking I was having a heart attack and it’s indigestion, talk about embarrassing.’

‘He did say it was an easy mistake, Dad, and that you weren’t the first one to make that mistake and you won’t be the last.’

‘Yeah.’ He digs his knife into the butter dish, loads it up and slaps a knife full onto the hot toast. ‘But it doesn’t stop me feeling like a complete idiot.’

He brings my toast over to the table and I tuck in; OMG a slice of toast never tasted so good.

‘Well,’ I say between mouthfuls, ‘At least you know your heart’s okay after all of the tests.’

‘Yeah, there is that,’ he says ruefully. ‘Although I’ll never hear the end of it from Ralph.’

No, he won’t, not for years. ‘He was so worried Dad, and so was I. We were frightened we were going to lose you.’ I was so frightened, although I tried to hide it but there’s no fooling Dad. He comes over and puts his arm around me.

‘I’m not going anywhere, sweetheart, don’t you worry. If anything, this has been a wakeup call for me.’ He straightens up and pats his stomach. ‘Time to start taking care of myself and stop being such a pig; get a bit of weight off.’

‘You’re not fat, Dad.’

‘No, but I’ve got a bit of a pot belly coming, too much comfort eating.’ He opens the door and lets Skipper back in. ‘Cut the portion sizes down, that’s what I need to do.’

I smile. It won’t last; he says this at least once a week.

‘No, I’m good. I’ll pour the tea out.’

‘I might have a couple more slices, because I’ll probably sleep through lunch.’

See? Said it wouldn’t last.

I pour the tea out and carry our mugs over to the table and sit down opposite him.

My eyes are heavy and I’m looking forward to crawling into bed for a few hours. But I won’t be able to sleep until I know.

‘So. About last night?’

Dad looks at me, eyebrows raised, cheeks bulging with hot buttered toast.

‘Was Mum having an affair?’

Dad shakes his head. ‘No! Of course not.’

‘There’s no point in lying Dad, I heard you talking, you might as well tell me.’ Besides, I already know and the sad thing is that I thought I was protecting you.

I wait while he swallows his toast and washes it down with a mouthful of tea.

‘I’m not lying.’ He puts the cup down. ‘Of course she wasn’t having an affair, whatever gives you that idea?’

Do I tell him about the card and phone calls? What if he doesn’t know? I decide to wait and see what he says.

‘It sounded like she was from what I overheard, you said he nearly destroyed us.’

Dad looks at me thoughtfully.

‘You might as well tell me because I’m not going to be fobbed off and despite what you think, I’m not a child.’

‘Okay. The reason we didn’t tell you was because we didn’t want to worry you.’

‘Your mother was being stalked.’

‘Stalked?’ I’m stunned.

‘Yes. Stalked. She’d been getting some weird phone calls. Some weirdo would ring her and say he’d been watching her, had some fantasy that they were having a relationship, that they were going to be together. He said she was sending him messages.’

‘Yeah. Things like when she drew the curtains that meant she loved him, said it was their secret code. If she wore a certain colour to work that meant something else, weird shit like that.’

‘He was clever though; if I picked the phone up, he’d put it straight down. I tried answering it and not speaking but somehow he guessed and I never managed to catch him out.’

The silent phone calls; he would only speak to her.

‘Why didn’t you go to the police?’

‘We did. They said Mum had to keep a diary of everything that happened; suggested we change our phone number to stop the phone calls. We didn’t want to do that, he would have won then, wouldn’t he? But we were considering it. He was clever though; always withheld his number.’

‘Didn’t you have any idea who it was, at all?’

‘No. And we tried, went through every person we knew, I knew, your mum knew. Friends, work colleagues, postman, you name it, we suspected them.’

‘Surely the police could do something ?’

Dad shakes his head. ‘Told Mum to keep a diary, record the phone calls, be more self-aware, look at the people around her, you know, notice if she kept seeing the same person, that sort of thing. If we’d known who it was, they could have done something but apart from catching him red handed there wasn’t a thing they could do.’

I was so convinced that Mum was having an affair. Poor Mum. I feel so bad for doubting her, for being so quick to think badly of her. I think back to her birthday; how I pretended to be ill when we came home from Rojanos because I thought she was cheating on Dad. I avoided her the next day. I feel sick. I could cry.

‘Josie?’ Dad is looking at me, concern etched onto his face. ‘Are you okay sweetheart?’

I pull myself together. ‘Yes, I’m just shocked.’ A horrible thought strikes me. ‘Did he threaten her?’

‘No.’ Dad shakes his head emphatically. ‘Not at all. Just seemed to have this idea that they were having a relationship, that she was in love with him and they were going to be together. It spooked us a bit, about the secret code, because that meant that he was watching her sometimes and he obviously knew her because he knew where she lived and worked, so it could have someone she knew, or had met. Stupid really.’ He laughs bitterly. ‘But I started drawing the curtains after he said that, used to drop Mum at work when I could. Thing is, when I think back over those three months before she died, they’re spoiled by him , by someone who had nothing to do with our lives but had an effect on it. Blighted it.’

He picks his cup up and drains the remaining tea.

‘The only consolation I have is that Mum’s last weekend with us was lovely, do you remember? We went to Rojano’s, it was always Mum’s favourite. It least he didn’t spoil that .’

But he did, at least for Mum. I remember her face when she opened that card; what I took for guilt was fear. I know Mum and I know why she ripped it up and hid it in the bin; she didn’t want it to spoil her birthday, spoil our day. So she hid it and pretended everything was fine so that we could enjoy it.

‘I was surprised though, I was sure he would send flowers or something because he seemed to know a lot about Mum and I didn’t think he’d let her birthday just go by. I felt better in a way because he couldn’t have known everything about her. And typically, the postman decided to come early that day. I remember I came downstairs after I got dressed and the post had already come. I went flying back upstairs and burst into our bedroom and Mum took one look at my face and laughed and said stop worrying nothing’s going to spoil today. I was so relieved. Especially when it turned out to be the last birthday she had with us. At least he didn’t spoil that.’

I reach my hand across the table and hold Dad’s hand and he gives me a sad smile.

I not going to tell him about the card now; there’s absolutely no point and it’ll ruin his memories of Mum’s last day. I think that’s a secret that I should keep.

‘Come on.’ He gets up and pushes his chair back. ‘We need to get some sleep.’

‘But I’m setting the alarm so we don’t sleep all day, otherwise we’ll be awake tonight.’

‘Night, sweetheart.’

I have my foot on the bottom step of the stairs when Dad grabs hold of me in a bear hug and holds me tight. We stand clinging onto each other for several minutes before he gently lets me go and I trudge up the stairs to bed.

I’m so tired I don’t even bother to brush my teeth; I get undressed and put on my pyjamas and collapse into bed. I feel exhausted but will I be able to sleep? My mind is whirling around like a washing machine. I feel so happy that Mum wasn’t having an affair and I got it so totally wrong. But I’m also angry at myself that I even thought she was capable. I shouldn’t have been so disloyal; I should have known that Mum would never betray us. I offer up a silent prayer; if you can hear me Mum, please forgive me. I am so, so sorry.