I have to confess that having Oliver at home was not turning out to be the unexpected pleasure I’d hoped it might be. For a start, he was very untidy. I was used to him leaving newspapers and dirty mugs all over the place but normally only in the evenings and at weekends – it was a contained messiness. However, now he was home all day, he left a trail of empty bowls, dirty plates and mugs. The kitchen was littered with filthy saucepans, used tea-bags and crumbs, whilst the toilet seat was always in the ‘up’ position and there was never any milk.
He has also told me that he intends to use this time as a ‘sabbatical’. His firm have been pretty generous with his severance package and he seems to think that this means he can take all the time in the world to decide what to do next.
‘I want to do something worthwhile, Caroline,’ he smiled, running a hand over his five-day stubble. ‘Something different. Make a change, you know?’
How about changing out of the jogging bottoms you’ve been wearing for the past three days? That would be a start.
I didn’t say this, of course. I didn’t want to suppress his enthusiasm. I tried a different tack. ‘Have you called your old contacts to see if they have any leads on jobs?’
He shook his head vigorously. ‘I don’t think that’s right for me. I think this is an opportunity to do something new and exciting.’ He pulled me into his arms and kissed me. I considered telling him that he really needed to brush his teeth but kept my counsel. ‘Meanwhile, I’m going to enjoy some precious time at home with my beautiful wife and darling daughter. How about I take Tilly to school?’
‘Yay, Daddy’s taking me to school!’ cried Matilda, jumping up and down. ‘Will you pick me up too?’
‘If you like, pumpkin,’ grinned Oliver.
‘This is the best day ever,’ declared Matilda, running off to find her shoes.
Thank you, Matilda. Please don’t feel the need to spare my feelings. Daddy’s home now, so Mummy can go and boil her head. Well I won’t let it bother me.
‘Fine. I’ll take this opportunity to get to the gym early,’ I said, reaching for my trainers.
‘Yeah, actually. About that …’ began Oliver.
‘What about that?’ I asked.
‘We got the gym membership through work. So it’s a bit of a no-go now,’ he winced.
‘Okay. I’ll put it on the card.’
‘Yeah, I’m just not sure we should be forking out on luxuries like gym membership,’ he said. He spotted the look of horror on my face. ‘Just for the time being. I’m sure we’ll be able to re-join once we’re back on our feet,’ he added.
‘Right. Okay,’ I said. ‘Anything else? Am I still allowed to shop at Waitrose, or is it the 99p store for us now?’
‘I love the 99p store,’ observed Matilda. I ignored her.
Oliver sensed my irritation and put one arm around my shoulder. ‘We may need to make some cuts but it’s fine for now,’ he said, kissing the top of my head.
Fine for now? What does that even mean? That it won’t be fine in the future? That I will actually have to comprehend shopping at Aldi with Natalie? I shivered with dread.
‘Come on then, Daddy. We don’t want to be late,’ said Matilda, grabbing hold of his hand.
‘Bye then,’ I said, standing in the hallway, watching them go.
‘Bye,’ said Matilda without a backward glance.
I tend not to let life ruffle me. I am of the belief that you should get on with it and not allow yourself to become a victim of circumstance, but there was something about the casual way with which my daughter brushed me off that upset me a little.
It wasn’t helped by the fact that she had formed such a strong and easy bond with my mother. They were constant companions. My mother’s communication skills were limited now but Matilda seemed to have brought her out of herself somehow. It was as if a light had been switched on in the back of her brain again. They would often look at photographs together and one day, I had found some old cine-films in the loft. I was curious to see what was on them so I had them converted into DVDs. One Sunday afternoon, Oliver and I sat down with Matilda and my mother to watch them.
‘These are funny,’ laughed Matilda. ‘Everyone looks as if they’re walking really fast.’
It was true. There was no sharpness in the resolution or slickness in the production like the digital films of today, but there was a charm in the way that the people on screen had been told to walk towards the camera and try to look natural. There was one particular film of me at about the age of three or four. It looked as if we were in the middle of a big field, the blanket of green stretching all around us, the sky a pure blue; the perfect day really. My father had obviously been filming, instructing my mother and me to walk towards him from a distance. My mother looked so young and bright. I gazed in wonder as she caught hold of my hand and we skipped along, happy and giggling with delight. I couldn’t remember laughing with my mother as a child. She always seemed so cross to me.
I glanced over at her. She was sitting very upright on the sofa, staring at the screen, her face expressionless as usual, but I noticed tears streaming down her face. I felt an unexpected ache in my chest and with it, a surge of panic.
This is a mistake. We shouldn’t be watching this. It’s too late for this.
‘You look so happy!’ declared Matilda, gazing up at her grandmother. ‘Oh, Nanny, why are you crying?’ she asked in alarm. She raised herself onto her knees and wrapped her arms around my mother, planting tiny kisses on her face. ‘Don’t cry, Nanny. Don’t cry,’ she soothed.
I felt Oliver reach for my hand but I gently pulled away. ‘I think I’ll make some tea,’ I said before leaving the room. Once in the kitchen, I heard the sob I’d been suppressing escape from me. It sounded like the noise a distressed animal would make.
Don’t put yourself through this, Caroline. You don’t need to. Everything was fine as it was, the past was set as you remembered it. Where’s the sense in dredging things up, things that can’t be resolved? Don’t upset the balance now.
I regained my composure. It was just an old film. It didn’t mean a thing.
By the time Oliver reappeared twenty minutes later, I had made us both coffee and was sitting at the kitchen table checking the choir’s Twitter feed. We had over three thousand followers now including, I noted with annoyance, Danielle and the Dulwich Darlings. She had even posted a response to the video of our south-east finals performance:
‘You guys are ADORABLE – I want to adopt you all. #bless’
Whereas I had an immediate and over-powering urge to push her off a cliff.
‘Everything all right at the school?’ I asked as Oliver sat down next to me at the kitchen table.
‘Fine,’ he smiled. ‘I saw your friend, Nat is it?’
‘Natalie,’ I replied. ‘How about Zoe? Did she say, “Hi”?’
He furrowed his brow. ‘I don’t think I saw her. Mind you, I can’t remember what she looks like, but Natalie made a point of speaking to me. She seems nice.’ He picked up his coffee mug and took a sip. ‘Ahhh, I could get used to this,’ he grinned, leaning back in his chair.
‘Don’t get too used to it,’ I warned. ‘We don’t want to end up on the breadline.’
‘That won’t happen. I’ve got enough money to keep us going for at least six months.’
‘And pay for holidays?’
He took hold of my hand.‘If the lady wants a holiday, the lady shall have a holiday,’ he said, kissing his way up my arm.
‘I don’t mean a camping holiday, by the way,’ I said.
Oliver stared at me. ‘Now actually, that’s a really good idea. Tilly would LOVE to go camping, I’m sure. Just think of it – the great outdoors, cooking in the open, sleeping under the stars—’
‘Freezing to death and holding onto the tent in a torrential storm,’ I added.
He laughed. ‘It would be fun. You would love it.’
‘I love nice warm hotels with spas attached,’ I said firmly.
He smiled, shuffled his chair closer to me and started to kiss my neck. ‘And huge four-poster beds too?’
‘Provided the sheets have a thread count of at least eight hundred,’ I murmured.
He kissed me on the mouth and stared into my eyes. The sound of my mother shuffling into the kitchen made us both jump.
Oliver leapt from his chair. ‘Patricia!’ he cried. ‘Would you like a cup of tea?’ She stared at him before shuffling back out again. ‘That’ll be a no then,’ he laughed. ‘Right, I’m going for a shower,’ he said, kissing me again and heading for the stairs.
Moments later the doorbell rang. ‘I’ve got it,’ I called.
I made my way down the hall, peering through the glass to see if I recognised who was there. I expected it to be Jim with a parcel but the person was much smaller. I opened the door to a woman, who I didn’t recognise immediately, although I knew we’d met before. She was slight with short hair and elfin features and a veritable array of ear piercings. She smiled at me. She had a natural beauty and warmth, which said, ‘I am a good person. You can trust me.’
‘Mrs Taylor? Do you remember me? I’m Laurie. I was your mother’s care worker.’
‘Oh yes, of course,’ I said, a little confused. ‘Would you like to come in?’
‘If it’s not too much trouble. I hope you don’t mind me dropping by. It’s my day off and I just wondered how Patricia was?’ she said. I was astonished. This woman had given up a day off to come and visit my mother.
‘She’s just in the lounge. Do go through. Can I get you a tea or coffee?’
‘A tea would be great, thanks. Milk, no sugar.’
I watched her enter the room. ‘Patricia! Do you remember me? Laurie?’
I glanced into the lounge and was amazed to see my mother reaching out her arms to embrace this woman. ‘Laurie,’ she said with a smile.
I busied myself in the kitchen, suppressing the envy I felt.
It’s ridiculous, Caroline. You don’t want a relationship with your mother. It’s too late. Remember?
I stayed in the kitchen for a while. I thought I’d leave them to it. It was better that way. After a time, I heard Laurie helping my mother to the toilet before appearing in the doorway.
‘So, how are you coping?’ she asked.
‘Fine,’ I said. If you can call the daily washing of soiled bedsheets and living with a stranger in your house ‘fine’.
I noticed Laurie take in her surroundings, smiling at the pictures and photographs on the fridge. ‘Is this your daughter?’ she asked.
‘Yes. That’s Matilda. She’s eight,’ I replied.
‘I bet your mother loves her,’ she observed.
I knew that Matilda adored my mother but I hadn’t really considered how my mother felt. ‘They have formed quite a close bond, yes,’ I admitted.
‘And what about you?’
‘Pardon?’
‘How is your bond?’
‘Well, it’s fine.’ There’s that word again. I’m fine. She’s fine. We’re fine. Everything’s fine. Now please stop prying.
‘Don’t take this the wrong way, Caroline, but I know that you didn’t visit your mother very often and I also know that she dotes on you.’
Dotes on you. Oliver had used the same phrase. I smiled at Laurie. She was kind but she didn’t understand. ‘Look, Laurie, I appreciate you coming and I’m sure my mother does too, but you don’t know what happened in my family. It’s private and I don’t need anyone interfering.’
Laurie fixed me with a look. There was no judgement in her gaze – it was more as if she were trying to read my soul, to glean the truth because she knew I was hiding it. ‘I’m not here to make you feel guilty or uncomfortable,’ she said. ‘I just know from experience that the pain and regret you feel after someone dies can become almost unbearable if you don’t do your best for them while they’re alive. I see something in your mother – a pain and distress, a hidden upset she needs to resolve. I’m sure that you have your reasons for not allowing her to do that but I would beg you to think again. For her sake and for yours.’ She reached across the table and squeezed one of my hands, her smile understanding and encouraging.
‘I’ll think about it,’ I said. I won’t but I have to say something to bring an end to this.
She nodded and stood up. ‘Thank you for the tea. I’ll pop in to say goodbye to Patricia and see myself out.’ I heard the front door close behind her and then the sound of Oliver coming down the stairs.
‘Who was that?’ he asked, standing in the kitchen doorway.
‘No-one important,’ I replied, rising to my feet and gathering up my bag. ‘I’m just going out for a bit. Is it okay if I leave you here with my mother?’
‘Of course, darling,’ he said, kissing me on the way past. ‘We’ll be fine. I’m going to get online and suss out some new job opportunities.
‘Great,’ I smiled. ‘Good luck.’
I drove into town and spent a couple of hours indulging in a little retail therapy. This was a rare treat for me but one which I felt I deserved today. The hall campaign could wait, the issues with my mother could wait, hopefully indefinitely. I made my way to my favourite boutique on the high street. The woman behind the counter knew me by sight and was always happy to recommend clothes or jewellery that she felt might suit me. I soon found a dress and a top I liked and carried them to the changing room to try on. I had just taken off my top when I heard two voices that I recognised – Amanda and Zoe. I was about to get dressed again so that I could go out and greet them but something stopped me – to be honest, I was a little miffed that they were meeting up without me. Amanda was often visiting clients nearby and we would meet for lunch. I took out my phone to check our WhatsApp group but there was nothing. I stayed where I was and listened, my adrenaline starting to pump.
‘How about this, Mands?’ asked Zoe, holding up something for her inspection.
‘That’s pretty but a bit last year,’ observed Amanda. They were right outside my changing room.
‘Mmm, maybe. So anyway, I haven’t had a chance to tell you – I saw Oliver today.’
I held my breath.
‘Oh yes?’ said Amanda, ready for gossip.
‘Oh, my God, he looked terrible. It’s like he’s given up since he lost his job.’
‘Terrible,’ echoed Amanda. ‘Poor Caroline. Have you seen her?’
‘No. I think she might be keeping a low profile. Mind you, you can hardly blame her.’
‘Totally. I mean, I thought about inviting her today but it’s probably hard for her financially.’
‘I thought the same. What about the drinks thing next week? Shall we ask her to that?’
Amanda sighed. ‘Best not. That cocktail bar is pretty pricey, plus she’ll probably just be moaning. You know how she can be.’
I felt my body go rigid as Zoe laughed. ‘True, she does put a dampener on things sometimes. Let’s just keep it the two of us then.’
‘Perfect. Are you going to get that? I’m done here.’
‘No, I’ll leave it for now. Let’s grab lunch.’
I heard the shop bell tinkle, indicating their departure. I stayed still for a moment, suddenly aware of the sound of my own heart. I felt crushed, as if I couldn’t breathe. I must not cry. I must not cry. I looked at the clothes still on their hangers, before pulling my top back over my head and leaving the changing room.
‘Any good?’ smiled the lady behind the counter.
‘No, not today, thank you,’ I said, before hurrying from the shop. I practically ran to my car and sat in the driver’s seat, wondering what to do next. I was rather surprised when I found myself sitting outside Natalie’s house ten minutes later. I rang the doorbell, my face ready with a smile.
Natalie’s face, on the other hand, was set in a frown, which relaxed a little when she saw me on the doorstep. ‘Oh, Caroline, hi. Do you want to come in?’ she asked.
‘If you’re not too busy,’ I replied.
Natalie sighed. ‘I’ve been farting about all day trying to finish the next Ned story, so a distraction would be welcome.’
‘Thank you,’ I said, following her to the kitchen.
‘I’m just making a sandwich. Would you like one?’ she asked.
‘That would be lovely – thank you.’
She opened the fridge. ‘Okay, we have cheese – or – er, cheese?’ She grinned, holding up a parcel of cheddar.
‘Cheese is fine, thanks,’ I replied, shouldering off my coat.
‘So-o, how are you? Is everything okay?’ she asked, looking at me with genuine concern.
How to answer? I hate my mother and my friends have been mean to me? You sound like a six-year-old, Caroline. Besides, I don’t hate my mother. I just don’t know her, not really and I’m starting to wonder if I’m being a little unfair.
The truth was, I’d never tried to talk about these things before because I’d never felt the need, but now, I was hitting a low point. My ordered life was starting to look a little less than ordered and I was beginning to feel desperate. I didn’t really have anyone else to talk to. Oliver had enough on his plate and Natalie had offered. Plus, I found her easy to talk to. She may have been chaotic but she was kind.
‘I had a visit today from the woman who used to be my mother’s carer,’ I began.
‘Oh, that was nice of her.’
I nodded. ‘Yes, yes it was.’ I thought for a moment. ‘She believes there are issues which my mother is trying to resolve.’
‘What kind of issues?’
I stared at the ceiling. This was hard. ‘Issues relating to our relationship.’
‘I see. But you don’t feel as if you can talk to her?’
Actually, I don’t want to talk to her. I’m scared of talking to her. I hesitated. ‘I find it tricky.’
She nodded. ‘It’s not easy. I had a similar thing with my father when he was dying.’
‘And what did you do?’
Natalie stared at me and puffed out her cheeks. ‘You and I are very different. I’m not sure I’m the best person to advise you, Caroline.’
‘Please,’ I said.
Natalie heard the desperation in my voice. She took a deep breath. ‘I talked to him, did my best to work through it,’ she said. ‘I had a very trying relationship with him but I always took Woody when I went and actually, they had a good relationship – better than my own with him. And now my father’s dead, I’m glad I did it because I did my best. Life isn’t about smooth edges and neat endings. It’s about doing your best. At least, that’s what I think.’
This was an alien concept to me but it was starting to make sense. ‘Thank you,’ I said.
‘You’re welcome. Now, do you want pickle in this sandwich?’
I laughed. ‘I’ll have whatever you’re having.’
‘Pickle it is then,’ she said with a grin.
‘How about you? Are you talking to Dan?’
Natalie sighed. ‘Not really. He took Woody out for pizza the other day but I hid in my office when he rang the doorbell and he stayed in the car when he dropped Woody back.’
I couldn’t imagine how that would feel. ‘I’m sorry, Natalie. It must be hard for you.’
She shrugged. ‘I have good days and bad days. Choir days are always good days though,’ she said, handing me a sandwich.
‘Very true,’ I agreed.
‘Well, there’s one thing we have in common then,’ she said with a wry smile. ‘That and a love of cheese-and-pickle sandwiches.’
I laughed. ‘A match made in heaven.’
Maybe sharing isn’t such a bad thing after all, I thought as we sat and chatted. Maybe sharing with the right people actually helps. Maybe it enables you to face things you’d never thought possible and resolve them once and for all. Maybe. Just maybe.