Hello, My Name is May

by Rosalind Stopps

‘It’s just us, kid,’ May said to the sleeping Jenny, careful not to wake her. ‘This is me, pulling myself together right now, and everything is going to be just fine, I promise.’

  May couldn’t face trying to get the pushchair on the bus so she walked along the straight, wide avenues until she got to Helen’s flat. It was the top floor of a terraced house and May had been there several times. It looked wrong as May approached it and it took her a minute to work out why. The curtains were closed, that was it. Helen wasn’t fanatically tidy, but there was no way she would have the curtains closed on a sunny afternoon. May felt a lurch of unease.

  May rang the bell for the upstairs flat, still expecting Helen to open the window and drop the keys down, despite the closed curtains. The front door to the communal hallway opened and for a second, just a second, May thought it was Helen. It wasn’t, it was her downstairs neighbour. May had met her before, she and Helen had found her curtain-twitching surveillance of the neighbourhood quite touching. She was kindly, Helen had explained, just lonely and under occupied.

  ‘What are you doing here?’ the neighbour said. ‘Ringing on Helen’s door?’

  ‘I’m a friend of hers,’ May said, ‘we met before, a few months ago, do you remember?’

  ‘You’d better come in,’ said the neighbour. ‘Leave the pram in the hallway.’

  She sounded abrupt, not at all how May remembered her. The unease that had followed May from London increased. May parked the pushchair, picked up the sleeping Jenny and followed the neighbour into her living room with a growing sense of dread. She was trying to think of the neighbour’s name, which was much easier than trying to think of what might be wrong.

  ‘It’s Margaret, isn’t it?’ May said as the name came to her. ‘I’ve come to stay with Helen for a while. Helen and Seb.’

  ‘Oh,’ said Margaret.

  She jumped a little as she said it, and May wondered what on earth was wrong with her. I’ll ask Helen, she thought, poor woman, maybe we can help her.

  ‘Sit down,’ Margaret said. ‘Would you like a cup of tea?’

  ‘No thank you,’ said May, ‘we’re fine, we just want to pop up and see Helen.’

  May could see that Helen’s neighbour was struggling with tears.

  ‘Are you OK? Shall I go and get Helen? Is there something wrong?’

  Margaret stared at her.

  ‘You don’t know,’ she said in a quiet voice, almost a whisper.

  ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about, but I’ll go and get Helen, maybe she can help.’ May stood up, but before she could go any further, Margaret spoke again.

  ‘No, don’t go up there, please don’t. Sit down, let me tell you.’

  That was enough. May sat. She knew what Margaret was going to say before she said it, there couldn’t be anything else.

  ‘I’m afraid she’s gone,’ Margaret said. ‘She passed away, I can hardly believe it myself. Gone.’

  She shook her head as if she was trying to shake off a wasp. May felt a surge of unreasonable anger at her, before the sadness hit. That was why she hadn’t replied, why May hadn’t heard from her, how could she have doubted her lovely friend?

  ‘What do you mean?’ she asked. ‘How, when?’ May felt as though the world was spinning in the wrong direction. All this time she had been thinking just of herself, worrying, fussing, not wondering about Helen at all.

  ‘It’s not for me to say, but she was killed. Stabbed. A lot of people seem to think that it might have been her ex, Seb’s dad. He’s gone missing, so my money’s on him. Either way, someone was waiting for her when she got home with Seb three weeks ago. I was out, I was at my local history group, and I’m so sorry I wasn’t here. There was quite a tussle, you see, quite a tussle indeed and if I had been here I might have stopped it.’

  ‘It wasn’t your fault. Don’t blame yourself,’ said May on automatic pilot. ‘Of course it was him, it has to be him, who else could it be?’

  I could have stopped it, she thought, I knew what he was, how scared she was of him. I could have kept her in London, I could have been less preoccupied with my own troubles. May held Jenny tight. She knew which question she had to ask next but she dreaded the answer. Without planning to, she put her hands over Jenny’s ears so that she couldn’t hear any of this.

  ‘What about Seb?’ said May. ‘Where’s the baby?’

  Margaret started to cry.

  ‘I guess it wasn’t on the news down in London, not important enough. Oh dear, oh dear, I’m afraid he died too. That’s why they think it was the ex, although it doesn’t make sense. Who would kill their own child? There were roses in the flat, roses on the floor, on the beds, roses everywhere. They were both stabbed, that poor little baby and his mum. I just want to move now. I can’t stay here. Would you like to stay with me tonight?’

  May couldn’t think of anything she would like less. She wanted to get away as fast as she could. Take Jenny and run, again. She couldn’t stop thinking about where it had happened, and how, and whether they had suffered. She stood up.

  ‘No!’ May said. ‘No, sorry, I can’t.’

  ‘Where are you going to go then?’ Margaret asked. ‘Have you got somewhere else to go? Other friends? Do you think your other friends might have any clues, did they know her?’

  ‘I’m sorry,’ she said. ‘I don’t know anyone who could help. We didn’t really have any friends in common, I mean, I haven’t really got any friends here. Except Helen.’

  ‘Don’t go,’ said Margaret. ‘I’ve been so scared since it happened, it’s not right, that little baby.’

  May felt trapped. She absolutely had to leave. She felt as though she couldn’t breathe, as though she was being strangled. Helen, lovely Helen, fat little Seb. Stabbed. A knife, what kind of knife? Where on Seb’s new little body?

  ‘I’ve got to go,’ May said. ‘I’m so sorry. I really am. I know Helen thought a lot of you. Thank you so much for telling me, I’ve got to go, goodbye.’

  May stumbled out into the hallway. Was this where he had stood? Was this where he was when she first saw him? Was this the door he left from, blood maybe still on his hands?

  May put Jenny into the buggy as she felt the house close in on her. She couldn’t bear to stay a moment longer. Visions of Seb’s perfect body ran around her head, along with the terrible thought – who died first? Did Helen see her dear little baby stabbed and bleeding? Or did he kill Helen first and then go for Seb when he started to cry?

  Oh Helen, she thought, oh Helen I wish I’d come up sooner. I wish I’d been with you, I would have been able to ring the police or punch him on the nose or stand in front of you and Seb. There would have been two of us to fight him off. I’m sorry I was so busy thinking about myself that I didn’t notice the danger you were in. You told me you often saw him hanging around near the flat, I didn’t listen.

  And what if he’s nearby now? May thought, looking up and down the road. What if he knows I’m her friend? She tucked the blankets more tightly round Jenny and set off back to the station.

  There was no choice, she thought as she walked. No one to go to here, not enough money to stay in a hotel, choices running out. May would have to go back to London. Alain’s not like this, she thought, thank goodness he’s better than this. He’s got a real problem, sorry, Helen, but we’re not the same, you and I, we’re not.

  We’re different.

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  June 2018

  Lewisham

  I keep my door shut now. All the time, not just when I want a nap or when the carers are giving me a wash. All the time. Shut the door, please, I have to make it understood to every damn one of them, pointing at the door and indicating a slam and then doing this ridiculous thing I seem to have started of putting my hands together and bending my head slightly like a geisha girl, to show people I am grateful for whatever tiny task they’ve done for me. I can’t even quite get my hands together, it’s more like I’m high fiving myself to be honest, but at least
people seem to understand what I mean. More or less.

  What on earth for, Agnita said, the first time I asked her to shut my door. It’s good to be sociable, come on, it’s nice to make friends. Oh I wished for my lost words at that moment, I really did, although I can’t help thinking that there wouldn’t have been anything I could say that would have convinced her. I growled a bit instead, and did my pointing and slamming thing again. On a bad day it’s the nearest I get to communication.

  I know what you want, she said, there’s no point doing it all again, that’s not the problem. It’s just we’re all friends here, aren’t we, and this business of shutting people out or keeping people in, that’s not the way we make a happy home, is it?

  If I’d known it was a happy home you wanted, I thought, I could have maybe slit my throat instead of coming here. Childish, I know. I was quite cross, upset really, and I may have knocked a couple of things onto the floor, I don’t remember. Oh, I know Agnita was angry, I know I’m not her favourite or anything but she doesn’t know, does she? She doesn’t know about Bill or whatever he says he’s called. She doesn’t know about any of his little games, and I can’t tell her, all I can do is look out for myself. Take care of number one, that’s what I’ve been reduced to. It’s me he’s after. Even my Do Good Lady seems to have deserted me, she hasn’t been in for ages.

  Thank goodness for Trevor. He’s the only bright thing around here sometimes, especially when Jackie is busy with you know who. He came in last night, knocked on the door with such a sweet knock.

  I wanted to see how my favourite girl is, he said, although he sounded a bit breathless and he hadn’t got a good colour. Only it’s been a couple of days and I’m pining a bit, he said and he made a silly face, all moon eyed and lovelorn.

  I thought about what it might have been like if we were friends earlier in my life, when I was still a walking, chatting person. Would we have got on? I think so. I think I would have liked to talk to him about Jenny, when she was younger, and problems at school, that sort of thing. I bet he would have made me laugh. Maybe I could have helped him too.

  Let me show you a trick, he said last night, did I tell you I used to be in the Magic Circle? I forgot about Bill and everything else for a moment. I love tricks, always have. I guess that’s why I’ve been tricked before, I thought and then I pushed the thought away. Don’t spoil it, May.

  Trevor pulled his hand out with a flourish from behind his back. He was holding a banana. See this, he said, one ordinary banana, straight from somewhere warm, they don’t grow here dear, they’ve got more sense. It was a rehearsed patter, I could tell it was, and I wondered whether he used to be on stage. I made a mental note to ask him later.

  Would you like a slice, he said and I nodded because that’s what he wanted me to do. He held it up close to my face and I could see it was just a banana, nothing special, and then he peeled it, right in front of me and it was all in slices. No kidding, a banana that’s sliced before being peeled. I don’t know how that works but I was thrilled, I loved it and I clapped with my good hand against my leg. Bravo, I wanted to shout, encore. I wished that Jackie would drop by so that she could see it too.

  He bowed. He loves bowing, Trevor, I’ve noticed that before. Bows at the drop of a hat. He stood there after that, looked a bit confused, then he started coughing so he turned on his heel, snappy like a soldier, saluted and left the room.

  I was in a good mood after that, a really good mood. What’s not to enjoy about a banana that’s sliced but not peeled? I was still thinking about it when that man came in here, Bill, not long after Trevor left. It was late, I know that because the televisions had gone quiet. All day you can hear them, the TVs up and down the corridor, turned up to the max because we’re all a bit deaf. All of them tuned in to different channels. I’ve got used to it, it’s a bit of company, but it’s a nice stretchy out comfortable feeling when the sounds stop.

  Jackie didn’t come round at all yesterday evening, she was out with him I think, at a film or something. She often goes straight to bed when she comes in after a night out so I didn’t think anything of it when she didn’t come to say goodnight.

  In fact I thought it was her for a moment, I was looking down at an article in the newspaper about nuclear weapons and I was glad of an excuse to stop reading so I looked up with a smile, wanting to tell her about the banana. I was going to shrug my shoulders to make a pantomime of the fact that she needn’t have come to see me but I was grateful that she had. Oh, I remember thinking, maybe we can have some hot chocolate if one of the nice carers is on duty. Maybe we can stay up chatting and she can tell me the plot of the film and all that. It happens sometimes.

  So I looked up but it was Bill. He was right there in front of me and that wasn’t what I was expecting so I wiped the smile off my face as quick as that game. The one where you pass your hand back and forth in front of your face and every time it goes past you change your expression, smile, frown, eyes shut, eyes open, that kind of thing. I was aiming for steely, I didn’t want to give away how scared he makes me. So I just stared at him.

  Oh, he said, not so keen to talk to me now your little friend isn’t here. I knew a woman like you once, he said and he grinned, grinned like it was the funniest thing. She wasn’t old like you, she was young, well younger anyway and even a bit pretty in the right light but she thought she knew the lot. Everything. There was nothing she didn’t know, and that can get on a person’s nerves, do you know what I’m saying?

  I looked towards the door, hoping one of the staff might be passing by but he saw me, caught the look and maybe he could read my mind, like he always could.

  There’s no point expecting anyone to hear you, he said, they’re all down the other end of the corridor putting Manny back to bed. This is the quiet end, nothing happens here, they won’t be back for a while. So you and me can have a chat, can’t we, a chat that’s been overdue. We’ve got lots to talk about haven’t we?

  Screwdriver, I tried to say but of all the words that are difficult to say in the whole world, screwdriver is probably one of the worst. I didn’t even know why I wanted to say it. Bring him down a peg or two I guess, remind him that he’s just a confused old man now, whatever else he might have been one day.

  Oh dear, he said, you’re a poor dribbling old thing, aren’t you?

  He was right, I was dribbling, it was the effort of trying to get the words out. That’s what made me dribble but I hate that he noticed. Hate that he homed straight in on it. He was always good at working out whatever it was that would upset me the most, he had a feel for it.

  He got this dirty old tissue from his pocket and he held it right by my mouth. I tried not to breathe so that I wouldn’t breathe in his horrible germs but he held it there for so long I had to and it was repulsive. Grim. I nearly threw up.

  Ah, he said, just trying to help my dear.

  He tilted his head.

  I was sure of it then.

  He looks different of course, time plays all sorts of tricks on a person. Look at me, you’d never for a moment peg me as the soft young woman with the pretty hair and the quiet voice. Even his face shape seems to have changed, got longer somehow, as if he’d been dangled by the head until his chin dropped, but that’s age for you. There’s not one of us ends up the way we began, no matter what the film stars try to do. The wicked twinkle in his eye though, and the nastiness of his smile, not to mention the snaggly half twist of his front teeth. That’s my evidence.

  I had to see him off. I might be old and dumb in every sense of the word, but I’m not a victim. Not now. I picked up the little scissors the Do Good Lady had left behind. I didn’t do anything with them. I just stared. It made my eyes water but I stared at him, steady and fierce. I know who you are, I said through my eyes, I know exactly who you are and you don’t frighten me. The words seemed to echo in my brain, deep and booming. He must have been able to pick them up, he must have.

  Oh, he said after a minute or two of my killer
stare, oh if you’re going to be like that. I just thought you might like some company, that’s all.

  I didn’t move, kept on with the staring.

  Come on mate, he said and I could tell that he was getting really uncomfortable, come on, let’s be nice to each other, I knew someone like you once, come on.

  I kept on staring, and I allowed myself a slight curl of the lip as well, to show that I found him beneath contempt. I could remember so many things, so many times when he hurt me or was vile to me or said terrible things about poor Helen and Jenny. I can’t believe that he could just sit there, talking to me as if everything was OK, as if we might have a cup of tea and a laugh together.

  I breathed deep like the speech and language therapist showed me and I formed the word in my head before I let it out.

  Al, I said, then I tried again. Alain, I said. I spat the word at him and I watched to see his reaction and I was right, I was sure I was right because he flinched and his eyes shut for a moment. It wasn’t only because I was holding the nail scissors.

  I don’t know, he said, I don’t know what you’re trying to say. Do you want your notepad? Maybe I can get your notepad, I’ve seen you use that when you’re with my Jackie or with the nurses, maybe that’s the thing.

  Some people might think that was a harmless thing to say, but those people do not know my Alain like I know him. Even if he says his name is Bill now I know how he works, and he was trying to get close to things that matter to me, my personal things on my tray. He’d cut them up, I know he would. Anything that I love, that’s what he wants to spoil, he was always the same.

  No I shouted, nail scissors held aloft. Just the usual grunting piggy noise came out. It stopped him in his tracks, he looked startled. A bit scared, even, although I could hardly believe that. He wasn’t frightened of anything back when I knew him. You could have taken a bolt cutter to his fingers and he would have laughed in your face, that’s the man I remember.

  Stop, I yelled, or a mangled version of stop but I think the intent was fairly clear.