Hello, My Name is May

by Rosalind Stopps

  May knew that she should talk to someone. She looked at Joan, and wished it could be an easy friendship, that they could talk about politics and music, men and babies. There was a price for staying silent, May knew that, but she also knew that some things were too terrible to say. Some truths changed everything. Some truths were too dangerous to let out.

  ‘Yes,’ May said, ‘he’s great. Hey, do you mind, I’m really tired. I think I’m going to rest now, have a sleep with Jenny.’

  ‘Of course,’ said Joan. ‘Thanks for the tea. Let me know if there’s anything, you know, if I can help. It’ll all be good from here, I bet.’

  ‘Yes,’ said May.

  She saw Joan to the door. I’m on my own here, she thought, just me and Jenny.

  May had felt terribly weak when she first lost the baby. In the mornings it was as though her legs wouldn’t hold her when she stepped out of bed. It was a frightening feeling, and she had been trying to get fit. Sometimes, while Alain had taken Jenny out for a walk leaving May to rest, she had done star jumps from a Jane Fonda fitness magazine, touched her toes and tried to carry heavy bags of clothes whilst jumping on and off the bed. She was definitely starting to feel stronger. Whatever came next, May thought, she would be more able to deal with it. She didn’t want to be the frightened little rabbit any more. May even felt like provoking Alain sometimes, just to get the explosion out of the way. If it was going to come, she thought, it would be so much easier if she was ready for it.

  Spookily though, Alain had continued to give almost no cause for alarm. Just sometimes, when Jenny cried for ages and wouldn’t go to sleep, or when things didn’t go his way, May could see a glint of anger that reminded her of what could happen. Just sometimes.

  May was reading when Alain got back from his jog. He didn’t look like a person who’d been running, May thought, in fact quite the reverse. He was wearing jeans, for a start, jeans and a T-shirt and he wasn’t sweating or out of breath.

  ‘Good run?’ May said.

  She tried to keep any hint of sarcasm out of her voice.

  ‘Yes, marvellous,’ Alain said. ‘I went along by the river, it was gorgeous but a little too hot so I just walked back. In case you’re wondering why I don’t look sweaty.’

  He grinned as he said it. He knows, May thought, he knows I’m on to him. In spite of the heat of the day May felt cold, suddenly. It’s the moment in the horror film, she thought, I’m down in the cellar again and I’ve got no choice.

  ‘Come here,’ Alain said. ‘Come and give me a cuddle, my little ice maiden. May-den, get it?’

  May didn’t want to go anywhere near him. He had that look, that smell of other, of bad, she couldn’t explain it any other way. She wasn’t safe. She could feel it.

  ‘Jenny,’ she said and made to move towards Jenny, who was sitting in her playpen sucking the leg of a squeaky giraffe.

  Alain put a hand on May’s arm and she stood still.

  ‘She’s fine,’ he said, ‘it’s me that wants the cuddle.’

  ‘It’s still too soon,’ May said, ‘only four weeks since I lost the baby.’

  ‘Oh I think it’s been five, at least,’ said Alain. ‘Surely I’ve been a patient husband and a model father, surely there’s a little bit of something in it for me.’

  May tried to weigh things up in her head, but she was so scared she couldn’t think straight. If she just gave in, had sex with him and pretended she liked it, would he stay OK, nice, friendly? Or would he turn on her anyway, become angry even though she had gone along with him? Maybe even because she had gone along with him, he was so difficult to predict.

  May tried to arrange the pros and cons in columns in her head, but the words wouldn’t stay still. They jumped around from one column to the other and all the time Alain was coming nearer to her, an evil villain look on his face.

  ‘Come on, merry May, it’s only me, your loving husband. Don’t I deserve something for my troubles? Haven’t I been a good dad and a lovely nurse while you were ill? Don’t I deserve a bit of a reward?’

  May felt trapped. She looked around to see if there was anything she could use, anything she could grab that might help to fend him off but there was nothing, a small pile of clean nappies and Jenny’s sun hat, that was all. And Jenny in the playpen staring, staring.

  ‘Alain,’ said May, ‘listen to me. I’m not ready, and Jenny is awake. It’s a no.’

  ‘May, merry May,’ said Alain, ‘I’m lonely. Do you want me to be lonely? Jenny won’t mind. Jenny’s OK.’

  Alain put his arms around May and pulled her to him. Her face was against his shirt buttons. May tried to twist her head to the side so that she could breathe, and not to panic. It was difficult. She wanted to scream but even if she had had the breath for it, she guessed that it might excite Alain.

  ‘Let me just get Jenny’s giraffe,’ May said, turning her head just enough for the words to come out. ‘She’ll cry otherwise and then we won’t be able to have a cuddle at all.’ She couldn’t believe that she sounded so normal. If I stay, she thought, this will be my life forever, ducking and weaving, dodging and lying.

  ‘Oh May,’ said Alain, ‘oh May, oh May, you don’t get it, do you? You should be pleased that anyone fancies you, merry May, pleased that a real man wants to fuck you. You should be on your knees and begging me for it, my darling, don’t you think that would be a good idea? Now?’

  Alain pushed May’s shoulders down towards the floor but she made herself keep standing. Come on, May, she thought, you can do it, keep fighting, don’t let him do this. She was so scared that she could feel her legs shake.

  ‘Hey,’ she said, ‘maybe later.’

  She twisted and pulled and managed to break free. It was the element of surprise, she thought, it wouldn’t necessarily work twice. Alain seemed almost shocked that she had fought back.

  ‘Aww,’ Alain said, ‘my poor little frightened rabbit. Scared of her own husband. Big bad Alain. Don’t worry, I can wait, poor little rabbit.’

  Alain was furious, May could tell. She shivered, wondering what he might have in store for later.

  ‘I’m going out,’ he said, ‘this place bores me, you bore me. Going out and don’t wait up for me, I’ll be very late. Very, very late.’

  Alain poured the rest of his fizzy drink on to the carpet, right next to Jenny’s playpen. ‘Clean that up, could you?’ he said. ‘Jump to it, May.’ He flicked the ash from his cigarette on to the sticky mess before grinding out his cigarette in it.

  ‘Bye,’ he called, ‘get to it.’

  Jenny pointed towards the mess from her playpen.

  I’ll get you, she thought, I’ll get you if it’s the last thing I do. I’ll get you for me and I’ll get you for Jenny. She could see that it would never change, that she would always be scared, that he would always be looking for new ways to hurt her, humiliate her, keep her under control. It was good to feel so clear, and May felt almost cleansed, free from the worry of having to treat him like a friend or a lover, free from worrying whether she was being unfair. She didn’t have to decide any more. None of it mattered now. He could be a good father from now until the end of his life and it still wouldn’t change anything. May stretched her arms up and laughed.

  ‘The thing is,’ she told Jenny later, speaking quietly so that Alain didn’t wake up, ‘the thing is that people mostly see what they want to see, believe what they want to believe. That’s the thing you have to remember. That’s what we’ve got to hope for now, that’s going to be our only way out.’

  Jenny smiled and said, ‘ga.’

  ‘Sssh,’ May said, ‘we’ll be OK, I’ll look after you, don’t you worry.’

  May put the sleepy baby back in her cot and got into bed, making sure to keep as far over to her own side as possible.

  The weather stayed hot over the next few days and it suited May’s mood. She felt as though she was living in a feverish state, not quite ill and not yet well, undecided about what to do and yet very, very determ
ined that things would change as soon as possible. She tried to finish sewing Jenny’s little green and pink dress but the material felt unbearably warm on her lap. Even reading seemed like too much of an effort. May listened to the new Bob Dylan album over and over again on the little portable record player, listening to the words and hoping to find an answer, a way forward, a plan. She knew she had to act soon, that every day she left the situation to stagnate was making things worse, but somehow she was stuck.

  Alain was charming whenever he was home. He left the flat often, and always with an excuse that was difficult to argue with. May didn’t want to argue anyway, she liked the time without him, was terrified whenever she heard his key in the lock. He knitted more, as if his life depended on it, Pooh animals and whole families of creatures, hedgehogs, otters, sharks and dogs, all of them with a mummy, a daddy and two babies. He built shelves in Jenny’s room for them to sit on. May bided her time, knowing that she had to go but terrified of any change, anything that might upset the shaky peace. It was so difficult to make any kind of move. She had absorbed so much terror that she didn’t dare to tilt him in any way, throw him off balance, in case the result was unbearable.

  It took a phone call in the end, that was all. May had been out with Jenny, walking the streets of Pimlico and thinking. They had gone up as far as Sloane Square and along the King’s Road for a while, looking in the windows of the shops. May loved the crazy punk fashions but didn’t feel any envy, any longing to have them. She looked down at her old flared jeans and faded T-shirt and laughed. All I want, she thought, all I want is to be the most ordinary of ordinary mums. I want to wear shabby old clothes and save my money for Jenny to have violin lessons, and for us to have a week in a caravan in Devon each year. Most of all, I want her to be safe. I want neither of us ever to have to worry or be frightened. Ever.

  Jenny woke with a smile and a stretch. May bent down and adjusted the seat so that she could sit up.

  ‘Do you know what, little treasure?’ May said to her. ‘It really is going to be alright this time. I have such a great feeling. By the winter it’s going to be just you and me, the two musketeers.’

  Jenny giggled. May felt as if a cloud had lifted from inside her head. She pointed out dogs and trees and a police horse, seeing each individual thing as if it had just emerged after a rain storm.

  We’ll be OK, she kept thinking, it’s down to me and I can do it and it will be worth it. No more, no more, no more. The whole of her life with Alain zipped past her on that walk, the courtship, such as it was, the tiny wedding with almost no guests, the shared house in Hull and the little Pimlico flat. All of the kindnesses and all of the fun times, all of the bad times. The bad, bad times. May felt as if gauzy cloaks had been removed from her eyes. None of the good stuff was worth it, that’s what she realised. None of it was that good, nowhere near good enough for her daughter, and not even close to the life she had hoped for, even back in the days when she was fat and lonely and dreaming of a different life. She had still believed that she had some worth.

  It’s time for all this to stop, she thought, as soon as I can, I’m going to make some changes, big ones.

  ‘Hello,’ May called as she manoeuvred the buggy through the front door, ‘we’re home.’

  May could hear Alain on the phone in the front room. She left Jenny in the buggy and went through, ready to talk, ready to explain why she was leaving, ready for anything. Anything apart from what she saw, which was Alain holding the phone tightly to his ear, so tightly it looked as if he was trying to push it through his head, holding the phone and twisting, crying even.

  ‘No,’ she heard him say, ‘no, please.’

  He turned and saw her and tried to loosen his posture immediately.

  May saw fear and anger on his face, both fighting each other.

  If I’d had an ounce of sense, she thought later, if I had been the teeniest bit sensible, I would have turned around and left. Just gone. Jenny was in her buggy, we didn’t need to collect anything, we could have been at the women’s aid hostel in half an hour and on the phone to a solicitor. May was never sure why she didn’t do exactly that. Embarrassment? Loyalty? Love? Or just curiosity? May had wanted for so long to know what was going on, where the hell he went to, who he saw, and she knew that if she left now she might never know. She might live her whole life not knowing who she had married, or what had happened. May owed it to Jenny to find out.

  ‘Who’s that?’ she said. ‘Who are you talking to? Sue? What’s going on?’

  ‘Ssshhh,’ Alain said.

  His face was as pale as a dead man.

  May turned back to the little hallway to get Jenny out of her buggy. She heard a crash as Alain slammed the phone back onto its receiver. Shit, she thought, what have I done? The momentum of the walk with Jenny and the resolution she had made to leave was still carrying her along, so it took May a moment or two to realise that the growling she could hear was coming from the living room. It was coming from Alain. Hard to believe, but he was actually growling. Growling like a mad dog, or a lion. May realised that this was real, not a growl for a game with Jenny. It was the growl of an angry grown man. There was only one thing to do. May knew she had to get the hell out, and quickly. She didn’t have time to slip Jenny back into the buggy so she shifted it to the side and squeezed past in the narrow hallway, Jenny in her arms.

  May almost made it to the door. She was reaching for the lock as Alain launched himself at her, smashing the buggy to the ground and out of his way.

  ‘Give me that baby,’ he screamed.

  May wondered for a moment whether she could still get the door open before he got to her, get out into the hallway where someone else in the block might hear her.

  ‘She’s the daughter of the devil,’ Alain shouted. ‘Look at me, I’m the devil, you’re scared, aren’t you, scared of me.’

  Alain threw back his head and laughed like a villain in a Victorian melodrama. His eyes were wild and he was sweating heavily. He gave off a smell so unpleasant it made May gag, a mixture of chemicals and spoiled food.

  May couldn’t speak. She tried to hold on to Jenny, keep her tucked in as close as she could to her own chest, both arms round her, tightly.

  ‘Give me the baby,’ Alain shouted. ‘She’s mine, she’s mine, come to Daddy, little devil baby, come here.’

  Alain pinched May’s neck hard, twisting his fingers to try to make her let go of the baby, but May clung on. He grabbed her hair with his other hand and dragged her past the buggy and in to the living room.

  ‘Alain, stop,’ May said, trying to keep her voice calm. ‘Whatever it is, let’s talk about it. Jenny is scared, this is so bad for her, look.’

  May gestured towards Jenny, who did indeed look shocked and scared.

  ‘She’s fine, aren’t you, little dragon baby, devil baby, shall Daddy look for your horns?’

  Alain grabbed her from May, judging the exact moment when May reduced her grip a little in order to right herself and get her balance as Alain pushed her. Jenny screamed an unbabylike scream and began to wail.

  ‘Now, now,’ Alain said, bouncing Jenny too hard so that she became breathless, ‘you’re alright with devil Daddy, let’s see what Mummy does now.’

  ‘Alain,’ said May, ‘give her to me. Go on, now. She’s little, and she’s scared, and she will remember this all her life, deep in her subconscious, unless you change things now.’

  ‘Aha, subconscious is it now, devil baby, Mummy’s been reading books, hasn’t she?’

  Alain stood in the middle of the living room, Jenny in his arms. She squirmed and held her arms out towards May, who had fallen into the armchair. May jumped up and Alain shoved her again, hard. She fell back into the chair.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ he said, ‘she’s got to go. End of the devil line. No more.’

  He was swaying as he stood there and May realised that something was very wrong. Something more than rage, or a violent temper.

  ‘Hey,’ she said,
‘Alain, sit down. Go on, sit down, you look like you’re going to fall.’

  It took every bit of strength May had to speak to him in a gentle tone, but he stopped shouting and stared at her for a moment so she thought that she was doing the right thing.

  ‘Here,’ she said, standing up, ‘sit down here with Jenny and I’ll make you a cup of tea.’

  Alain sat down and tucked Jenny more comfortably onto his lap, so that she was sitting on his knee. He stared at May as if he had forgotten who she was, and what he wanted to say next.

  ‘It’s OK,’ May said, ‘just give me Jenny and then you’ll be more comfortable.’

  There was no response. Alain stayed exactly as he was, frozen in position, staring. May remembered an article she had read about hostages, after the American heiress had been captured. You were supposed to talk to your kidnapper quietly, never get angry, keep repeating things. Offer to help them.

  ‘Shall I take her so that you can get comfortable?’ May said.

  Alain continued to stare at her, moving his mouth as if he was about to say something. No sound came out. He flinched and moved his hand to his shoulder as if something was hurting him there. May moved forward in time to grab Jenny before she toppled over. She scooped her up and put her in the playpen in the corner of the room. Alain didn’t say anything. He didn’t seem to be breathing, and his eyes were glassy, unfocused. His hands stayed in the same position, frozen as if Jenny was still there.

  ‘May,’ he said.

  ‘Yes, Alain, what is it?’ May said.

  ‘May,’ said Alain again.

  May realised that he was sweating even more now, blinking as the sweat ran into his eyes. It was clear that there was something very wrong.

  Be careful, she thought, it could be a trick. It didn’t seem like a trick but May didn’t underestimate his cleverness. It was just that she had never seen anyone look so ill, so suddenly. His face was grey and distorted, as if he was stretching it into the strangest positions he could think of.