‘Only I thought you’d be right behind me in the ambulance, I thought you would bring Jenny. Is she OK?’
‘That’s a lot of thoughts for one person to have,’ said Alain. ‘I’m so sorry you were worried, darling. I couldn’t get here straight away, I had to find someone to take Jenny and I wasn’t sure, I tried a couple of people from school but they weren’t in and then I thought of Joan, you know, in the flat across the hall. I had to wait for her to come home. Sorry about that, but I couldn’t help it and I knew you were in good hands.’
May looked at him. There was something wrong with his story but she wasn’t sure what. Sue, she thought, if my baby is with Sue, whoever she is, I will kill myself. She imagined Sue ignoring Jenny’s cries or worse, and she tried to get out of bed.
Alain looked alarmed.
‘What are you doing?’ he said. ‘Get back in, she’s fine, Jenny is fine, I promise.’
‘She’s with Joan from upstairs, yes?’ May said. ‘Promise me, Alain, promise me.’
‘Where’s your merriness, May?’ Alain said. ‘Of course she’s at Joan’s. I said she was. Joan seemed quite pleased, actually.’
Alain looked at the ground like a child who had been caught out, and May wondered what else he hadn’t told her.
‘There’s no baby, Al,’ May said. ‘It definitely happened this time. Jenny isn’t going to be a big sister.’ As she said it, May began to cry, and she realised that she was a lot sadder than she had realised. It was as though her emotions had undergone a local anaesthetic and the feeling was just starting to come back.
‘Oh darling,’ Alain said. He put the crocodile glove puppet neatly on May’s bed, head turned to the side. ‘I’m so sorry, I was looking forward to meeting her.’
‘Him,’ said May. ‘It was a little boy, Al, a little brother for Jenny. They can tell that, you know, when you’re this far along. Fourteen weeks at least, Al, past the danger stage.’
‘A boy,’ Al said, ‘imagine that.’
‘And past the danger stage, too,’ May said again. ‘What do you think happened?’
Alain wiped his eyes and stared at her.
‘What do you mean?’ he said. ‘I know you’ve had a hard time, but I hope you’re not implying what I think you might be implying. Be careful what you say, my love.’
A nurse bustled past the open doorway carrying a tray and May reckoned she was still OK. He can’t do anything here, she thought.
‘I can’t pretend it isn’t happening, Alain,’ May said. ‘I know you’re a good person and you don’t mean to hurt me but…’ May trailed off as she saw the absolute indignation on Alain’s face.
‘Me,’ he said, ‘me hurt you? I don’t know what you’re talking about. Listen, May, you’ve had a nasty shock, a horrible experience and I get that, I really do. But I’ve been wondering, I’ve read some stuff about childhood trauma, and I’m wondering, do you think something bad happened in your childhood? Something that would make you, sort of, unable to function properly in adult relationships?’
May could feel the tears coming and she willed them back up her tear ducts to wherever they had come from. This was no time for weakness. She couldn’t believe he had said that, that he had made it all her fault. It was outrageous. A tiny part of her stood back, watching what was going on. Of course, the tiny part of her said, what did you think he was going to do, roll over? Guys like him don’t do that. Guys like him plan, and think, and make damn sure that no one catches them.
May pulled up her sleeve, and held her arm out towards him. There were three bruises on her forearm in three different shades varying from almost black to greenish yellow.
‘What about this?’ May said.
‘Oh May,’ Alain said, ‘do you really want to do this now? What about this?’
Alain pulled up his right trouser leg and May gasped. It was where she had scratched him, but so much worse. He must have used a razor or a very sharp knife. There were cuts, gouges, some of them still oozing blood and some looking infected. There was no way she could have done this with just the nails on her hand.
‘Do you need to see the injuries on my other leg?’ Alain said. ‘I’ll show you if you want.’
May felt so tired. She had imagined Alain reacting in different ways but never this. He had won this round too, and she wanted to leave the fight.
‘Only the thing is,’ Alain said, ‘I took a bit of advice, you know, just to protect myself, and apparently this,’ he pointed to his leg, ‘this is enough to get me custody of Jenny, probably. If I thought it wasn’t safe to leave her with you.’ He smiled and reached for May’s hand. ‘It won’t come to that, my darling, will it? I want us to live as a family, I’ll help you with your anger.’
May lay back against the pillows. So this is how it goes, she thought. I grabbed my chance and he was ready, he’s always going to win. I’m going to be frightened for ever.
‘So put your bruises away, my dear,’ said Alain, ‘or I’ll tell the nice doctor how you got them, and what you were trying to do to me when I managed to hold you off. You look pale. Are you delirious or something?’
May stared at him. She had nothing left to say. She could tell he was agitated. He kept looking towards the door and licking his lips as if his mouth was very dry.
‘Look, love,’ he said. He stood up and bent over to kiss May’s head. She could smell something chemical and unpleasant. She shrank away from his touch.
‘I won’t tell anyone, May, you know I won’t. I want you to be there for Jenny, you’re her mum. I’ve had some problems, I won’t deny that. And sometimes I’ve shouted a bit, thrown things about, I’m ashamed of all that. I never should have done it, not with darling baby Jenny there and everything. But I would never hurt you, May, you know that. I had to defend myself, my darling. I know sometimes you fall, you’re clumsy, and you want someone to blame. And sorry, there’s no easy way to say this, but have you ever thought that a responsible mother would see someone? That your version of what’s going on may be very real to you, I’m not denying that, very real, but maybe it’s not what actually happened? I’ve been reading a lot about delayed childhood trauma and it’s not uncommon, May, you’re not on your own.’
Alain looked at May as if he had said something important, monumental even. She tried to understand what was going on. It didn’t seem completely possible, but despite that she wasn’t surprised.
‘Self-harming, I think they call it. I’ve researched it, it’s not that uncommon in cases like yours, honest. Apparently the first thing to do is to go to your GP and ask for a referral to a psychiatrist. May, think about it, you could get better, think how wonderful that would be?’
Alain grabbed May’s hands and stared into her eyes as if he was rehearsing for a Disney movie. Any minute now, May thought, he’ll be covered in tiny cartoon birds and there will be music in the background. The thought made her laugh, she couldn’t help it. She pulled her hands back from his to cover her mouth.
‘May,’ Alain said, ‘May stop it, you’re hysterical. Shall I call the nurse? This is exactly the kind of behaviour I’ve been worrying about. Calm down.’
May stopped straight away. She felt as if a bucket of cold water had been tipped over her head. Of course. This was his plan, she had to make sure that she didn’t play into his hands in any way.
‘I’m sorry,’ she said, ‘it really isn’t funny, I know that. But, Alain, you and I both know the truth. It isn’t me, I didn’t have a childhood trauma, and if you did, well we can work on that. But I’m tired, Al, leave me alone.’
‘Exactly,’ Al said, as if May had said something else altogether. ‘Exactly, you can’t even remember the trauma, that’s how deeply ingrained it is. You need help, May.’
Alain stroked May’s forearm where the bruises were. She flinched, and pulled her arm back.
‘Go away, please, Al. Just go away and leave me alone. I’m sad, I’m ill, I just lost a baby but I’m not crazy. Just go.’
‘Thin
k about it, that’s all I’m asking. Just think about it, I could help, all this,’ Alain pointed to May’s arm, ‘all this could go away. We could be happy. We could have more babies, a football team of babies if you want. Just think about it.’
May thought that she must be going mad, she must be, it wasn’t possible that he could talk with such passion and enthusiasm about their impossible future.
‘Bye-bye,’ Alain said, ‘bye-bye, I’ll go and get Jenny now. Don’t worry,’ his voice moved to a stage whisper, ‘I won’t tell anyone about this.’ He tapped his trouser leg. ‘It’ll be our little secret,’ he said.
There was more than a hint of triumph in his voice.
‘One more thing,’ Alain said when he got to the door. ‘I don’t want you to worry about Jenny at all. Not at all. If you’re not well, if you’re not up to looking after her, that’s just fine by me. I can do it. I’ll keep her safe, you needn’t worry your head about that for one moment. I’ll look after our little girl for you.’
May sat up in bed, wincing at the pain in her back.
‘No,’ she said, ‘no, Al, I’m fine, I’ll be out tomorrow, just leave her with Joan and tell her and I’ll be fine to look after Jenny tomorrow. I’m OK, honestly.’
‘Let’s see how it goes,’ said Alain.
His voice sounded thoughtful, even caring, but his mouth was grinning like a Halloween skull mask.
‘Please,’ May said.
Alain held up the crocodile glove puppet on his hand, wiggled his hands to make the puppet wave goodbye and left the room.
May sat still in bed, trying to control her breathing, trying not to gasp or cry out. She had to process what had happened. It was a declaration of war, that was obvious. He was challenging her to a fight over who would look after Jenny, now that their relationship was on the rocks. Any thoughts May might have had of rescuing Jenny, going off to start a new, safe life with her, she could forget them. He wasn’t going to let it happen. May felt terrified. She was crying when the doctor put her head round the door.
‘Do you mind if I come in?’ she said. ‘Only I heard some of that. Not eavesdropping or anything, just doing my job. He’s got a loud voice.’
‘No,’ said May, ‘come in, but there’s nothing you can do, if that’s what you were thinking.’
‘May, I haven’t met you before today, but I can tell you something absolutely definitely. You didn’t harm yourself, May. You have bruises – don’t forget I’ve seen you undressed – you have bruises in places you couldn’t possibly reach. And unless you want to tell me otherwise, I don’t think you have any kind of balance problem. That means someone else did it to you, May, and I’m guessing it’s your husband. Now not every doctor will agree with me, there’s some really stuffy old ones in this profession. But if you want to prosecute, go to a safe place, I’ll support you. Think about it, May.’
May felt too ashamed even to thank the doctor. She just wanted her to go, leave her alone, let her make a plan of her own. One that didn’t involve persuading anyone that her husband beat her, that didn’t involve people not believing her and ridiculing her story. He was so articulate. He had been to the same sort of school as the lawyers and the doctors and he could speak their language. Even with the help of the lovely junior doctor, May knew that she didn’t stand a chance. Most people thought it was OK for a husband to hit his wife, and they certainly would once Alain talked about extreme provocation. If she lost, if she said all those things in a court so that everyone could hear how stupid she was, how pathetic, she might not even be allowed to keep her own baby, her own Jenny.
‘It’s OK,’ May said to the doctor, ‘it’s OK, I don’t need any help, thank you though. I’ll be fine. I’ve got a plan.’
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
August 2018
Lewisham
It’s hot in here, like a sauna or a front room full of family on Christmas Day.
I can’t believe the radiators aren’t on. I’d go and check them if I could. Maybe I can reach my hand out and check next time they wheel me past, make a complaint if they’re on. I don’t get to walk around much any more, I haven’t got any mobility in this heat. My feet seem to have swollen to the size of clown’s feet, I can’t get them cool. I’m having trouble even feeding myself, all my movements seem to be bigger than I meant them to be. I can’t believe I ever managed to draw those screwdrivers. Yesterday I knocked over three things, a jug of water, a glass of Ribena and a sandwich I was trying to pick up. It must be the heat. It’s been hot for days now and the rabbits outside that I used to watch from my window are very still. They sit under the hedge and only come out in the evening, sometimes not even then. Hull never had summers like this.
Everyone in the gravy boat seems listless, as if things are too much bother. Spilt drinks stay spilt for hours and twice I’ve had an accident waiting for them to answer my buzzer and come to take me to the toilet. This nursing home is not built for heat.
Jenny is finding it hard. It’s not surprising. She’s almost forty-one, overweight and married to a borderline paedophile, what does she expect? He’s not one of those, Mum, she always says, they got it wrong, honestly. I can’t see how she can swallow that but it’s not really my business and anyway, I should know better than anyone that a baby isn’t necessarily fifty per cent made of its father. Or mother really, some babies are just themselves from the word go. I think Seb would have been like that. His own person.
Jenny came in to see me yesterday so I’m surprised to see her here again today.
You be careful, rest up a bit, that’s what I’d like to tell her. Instead I make worried, clucking noises, smoothing the air with my good hand. I think she gets it.
I was just thinking about you, she said, in this heat. I thought maybe you could use a bit of company.
Hot, I manage to say.
I’m ridiculously pleased with myself.
Yes, she says, not hot by Mediterranean standards, but for Lewisham it’s something else.
I point to her tummy and hope she’ll understand that I’m worried about the baby.
Don’t you worry about this one, she says, patting herself, she likes the warmth. Oh, and did I tell you, I’m not so sure about Fortitude any more, I mean Dan likes it, but I’m worried about her being called Tit, or Titty.
That would be the least of her problems, I’d say if I could. Instead I arrange my face into a quizzical expression.
Charity, Jenny says, Charity if she is a girl, and maybe Finch for a boy. Or Story for either. I like names that are also nouns, do you?
Knife, I think, fork, table, bottom, ladle, toilet. Where on earth do you stop once you start that stuff? I turn my face into a kind of interested non-committal vacuum.
Mum, Jenny says, now I’m pregnant I’ve been wondering about my dad. What he was like, if he was excited when I was coming, that sort of stuff. I have that picture of him, the one from just before he, you know, before it happened.
It’s all a blur to me, that time, I think. It’s not a lie, I can hardly remember a thing except the bad bits but this lovely dumpy grown child of mine does not need to hear that.
One thing I do remember, though, and I try to get it across to her.
Pooh, I say, Pooh. I push the other memory away, the headless, legless animals, the look in his eyes when he got hold of the scissors.
Oh, she says, you’re talking about my knitted Pooh animals. I’d forgotten them. He made them, didn’t he. I always wondered where Eeyore went but I had the others. And the families, the sharks and the hedgehogs. Did he make them for me when I was a baby?
I nod. I’m glad I can’t speak, glad I can’t spoil it for her.
Oh it’s so nice being able to talk about this stuff with you, Mum, I love it, Jenny says. There’s a tear in my eye, and it’s all I can do not to blubber. Waterworks. Jenny looks embarrassed and I think about how I can shift the mood.
Jackie, I try to say with a shrug, as if I’m only a little bit interested in whether
Jenny has seen her or heard from her recently. Just a little bit, just making conversation. Something’s up though, I can tell that straight away. She shifts in her chair. She’s a big girl, my Jenny, a big girl with big feet. She can’t shift gracefully so I can hardly miss it.
Jackie? she says. I can tell she’s aiming for nonchalant, that she wants me to think that there’s nothing up at all, and this makes me nervous. I nod, yes, Jackie.
Well I don’t know, I’m not sure, I haven’t seen her, Jenny says. She’s fiddling with the clasp on her bag as if she has been given thirty seconds to fix it or the world will blow up. I stare. I’m sorry to do this, it’s not that I want to make Jenny feel uncomfortable or anything but the thing is that I haven’t seen her for a couple of days either, and that’s unusual. I grab my pad.
Is she ill? I write, because that’s what I’ve been thinking, that’s what I’ve been worrying about.
No, no, I’m sure she’s fine, Jenny says but she’s not meeting my eye when she says it so I feel really weird and sweaty and I wonder if it’s going to happen again, the stroke thing. I think it might have felt a little like this before.
Mum, says Jenny, are you OK, don’t worry, let me get you some water, sit still.
That one makes me laugh. Sit still. As if.
Phew, she says, glad to see you’re smiling. I thought you were having a funny turn then.
That makes me laugh as well, a funny turn, I imagine a comedian on the stage, taking a bow and turning around, saying, never mind me, dears, I’m having a funny turn. Trevor would like that, I think, he likes a laugh.
Jackie, Jenny says and I switch off the laughter as quick as a light switch. Jackie is erm, she’s, well I’m sorry and I know you’ll be sad but she’s getting married today, at the register office, that’s partly why I came, they haven’t invited anyone, not any of the carers or anything, well maybe one to help Bill because he’s not steady on his feet, you know that. They weren’t leaving you out, she says, all sympathetic and nice, Jackie would have loved to invite you but it’s Bill, he doesn’t have any family and she didn’t want him to feel different, you know how kind she is. They decided against the whole maid of honour thing, probably very sensible.
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