‘I’m back,’ I call, turning the key to the flat.
Aunt Viv approaches me, Louis by her side dressed in denim dungarees.
‘Wow!’ I clap my hands as I watch him tottering towards me, before he topples over. Aunt Viv helps him up and he takes a few more steps before I scoop him into my arms. ‘You are such a clever monkey.’
Aunt Viv tells me they’ve been playing with pots and pans and wooden spoons.
‘Pots,’ Louis repeats.
‘We’ve been emptying wastepaper bins too.’
‘Sorry,’ I mouth when I see her sitting room now looks like a hurricane has visited.
She laughs. ‘We’ve danced around the flat as well, haven’t we, Louis? And we’ve made you a card.’
With Louis in my arms, I follow Aunt Viv into the sitting room and she shows me a piece of paper with red and yellow pencil crayon scribbles. ‘You have been a busy bee, haven’t you, with your great-aunt?’
‘Don’t call me that,’ Aunt Viv says looking away. ‘It makes me feel so old.’
*
While I put Louis down for a nap, Aunt Viv makes us something to eat. ‘So, how did it go?’ she asks, trying to sound casual when I know she is longing to talk about my session with Stephanie.
‘Aunt Viv, when did you start drinking?’ I ask. I have so many questions, questions neither Hugo or I had the courage to ask when we were younger.
‘I was ten. I stole some wine from the kitchen after overhearing someone in the village shop saying my father was having an affair. I was confused and certain Mum would find out. It didn’t occur to me at the time that the drink was numbing my fear; all I knew was it was like swallowing cough medicine.’
‘Mum never told me Granddad Arthur had an affair.’
‘He had a few, Polly. Granny Sue turned a blind eye many times.’
‘I worshipped him when I was little.’
‘Of course you did! So did I. Addicts are often good with children because they’ve never grown up themselves. Dad was fun, charming, lovable and forgiving too. He was a good man, until the drink got the better of him.’
‘You and Mum, you’re so different.’
‘Gina went the opposite way because she saw how drink damaged our family. She frets and worries because she’s always had to play the big sister role. I was the emotionally immature one.’
‘Our family had so many secrets. Mum should have told us about you.’
‘She had her reasons. We always think we’re doing the right thing to protect our children.’
‘How did you pull through?’ I ask, unsure if I would have had the strength of spirit to carry on if I’d lost my son, my brother, sister, my entire family and ended up behind bars.
‘I did want to end my life,’ she confides. ‘I understand why people hang themselves in their cells. All my waking hours were spent feeling tormented, wishing I could rewind, grieving …’ She pauses, as if this conversation is causing her too much pain. ‘Drugs and alcohol were rife in prison; they were the only things left. People self-harmed. To begin with I thought, “What the hell?” I took heroin inside. “Have a go on this, it’ll make your bird fly,”’ she says. ‘Your bird was your sentence.’
‘What changed?’
‘My father. Your Granddad Arthur visited me regularly. He was the only one. He forgave me and promised the others would too, in time. Mum never has. She’s tried to but … I’d had so many lives before the car crash. You need to see it from their side too, I’d used them all up, and more. Even prison wasn’t punishment enough.’
Aunt Viv tells me that Granddad Arthur sent her money when she was released; enough to help her fly to LA and get help.
‘So you had treatment in America?’
She nods. ‘I booked myself into a rehab clinic. I met this incredible man there, Tate. We became close. I lived with him for a time. He made me laugh. When we were encouraged to find true spirituality through God or a Higher Power he said, “Why God? Can’t we find it through George Harrison?”’ Aunt Viv smiles. ‘He loved the Beatles. We’d dance to them all night long.’
I ask her about the Higher Power stuff.
‘I believe God puts people in front of you when you need them. Tate was a gift. Often you’ll find people come into your life for a reason. Sometimes they’ll stay, sometimes they’re only meant to be around for a short time to help you find your way. I believe I’m meant to be here now.’ She touches my cheek with the palm of her hand. ‘With you.’
*
When I wake Louis, I breathe in the smell of sleep and warm blankets and milky skin. Holding him in my arms makes me realise how much I want to stay clean and live a fulfilled life. I owe it to Aunt Viv, to Hugo and, most importantly, my boy. He deserves a mother who will be there for him. I also owe it to myself. I’ve made some bad choices in my life. ‘I won’t ever let you down again,’ I promise him, touching his cheek.
Aunt Viv stands in the doorway, watching.
‘Here,’ I say, holding him out towards her.
She cradles him in her arms.
‘It must hurt, every day,’ I say, thinking of her loss.
‘It does, but I’ve done my time grieving. I have to live for today now. There’s a beautiful reading,’ she says, rocking Louis in her arms.
‘Is it the one in your bedroom?’ I ask. ‘In the frame?’
She nods. ‘I’m not sure who it’s by, but I know it off by heart.
‘There are only two days in every week,
That we should not worry about.
One is Yesterday
With its mistakes and cares,
Its faults and blunders, its aches and pains.
Yesterday has passed, forever beyond our control.
All the money in the world cannot bring back yesterday.
The other day we shouldn’t worry about is Tomorrow.
Tomorrow is beyond our control.
Tomorrow’s sun will rise either in splendour
Or behind a mask of clouds – but it will rise.
Until it does, we have no stake in tomorrow, for it is yet unborn.
This leaves only one day …’
‘Today,’ we both say together. Aunt Viv smiles at me, before she goes on,
‘Any person can fight the battles of just one day.
It is only when we add the burdens of yesterday and tomorrow
That we break down.
The experience of today doesn’t drive people mad –
It is the remorse of bitterness for something
Which happened yesterday,
And the dread of what tomorrow may bring.’