and cry harder
than I have
ever done before.
No Answer
Kelly-Anne doesn’t reply to
any of my messages.
She isn’t even reading them
and I haven’t got her number
to call
so I send her my new one.
PLEASE CALL ME ASAP.
I’M SO SORRY. A xxxxx
I check every three minutes
for some sign she’s seen me.
Where is she?
Where is she?
Where is she?
The Fire
The point of a lit match
against a firelighter
that squeaks and burns up like Styrofoam,
the flame catching hold of
newspaper fists
beneath a scaffolding of twigs and logs.
The fire crackles, pops, smokes
through the empty room.
On the rug,
I stare into the flitting flames,
my scar coming awake with the heat.
I stoke the blaze,
jabbing with a heavy poker,
forcing the white ash from the log edges to fall
away,
aiming for an inferno,
something to drink me up.
I have never been so alone.
Intruder
I awake to smoulder, cinders,
the fire cooling in the grate
and to a clatter in the hallway.
I stay still,
curl myself into a ball
like I might
blend in with the paisley-patterned rug.
There is muttering
and someone ascending the stairs.
A light.
Quickly
I crawl
behind the sofa,
try not to breathe.
A rattling around;
drawers in Marla’s room opened,
slammed shut,
wardrobes raided.
You need to come here, Donal snaps,
and at first I think he might be summoning me,
but he goes on.
I’m rooting through her knicker drawer.
I don’t want to see my mum’s knickers.
You’ve gotta come here.
Or she’s gotta go to you.
She needs a woman.
She can’t take care of herself
and I haven’t time for it, Louise.
If Mary was alive I’d ask her
but she isn’t.
I don’t want to burden you, I just …
He’s on the phone.
Collecting things for the hospital.
Donal’s here doing what I could have done
if I hadn’t been so thoughtless,
squandering time feeling sorry for myself
instead of being helpful.
Yeah, well, I’m at the end of my rope
and I’ve been saying for a long time
that she doesn’t need this house.
Something has to give.
He searches a while longer,
clanging, banging,
no attempt to treat Marla’s home gently,
and then he is gone,
not bothering to give the house
a once over,
but warning me nevertheless
that my time here is
running
out.
Packing
I leave behind anything Marla gave me –
socks and slippers,
books and pens –
in a pile on the end of the bed.
It isn’t right for me to live here now.
And anyway,
I have to find somewhere
before someone finds me.
I wish Kelly-Anne would find me.
Free-Falling
I am not suicidal
but up on this clifftop,
the wind heavy-breathing against my neck,
the foamy waves jeering,
I imagine how easy
a slip would be,
how I could find a few seconds of relief in
free-falling
and then
nothing.
I am not suicidal
but there are days when I do not
want to
be.
The hanging on.
It is so hard.
Jazz
Marla is watching the ceiling fan turn,
a cannula in her arm.
Hey, I say.
She sits up straighter. Smiles.
I brought you this.
It is a box wrapped in red paper,
cheap ribbon around it.
She rips at the wrapping,
opens the lid and yelps.
Jazz shoes!
In pink?
Jazz shoes in pink!
She holds one to her chest,
kisses the toe
like you might the nose of a new puppy.
They’re for Christmas.
It’s Christmas tomorrow.
I sit on her bed,
place one hand on her leg.
Why won’t I see you at Christmas? she asks.
We can have visitors whenever we like.
I force my finger into a hole in the blanket.
Marla puts the shoes back into the box,
passes the lot to me and says,
Take those home and hide them from Donal.
When I get out of here
we’ll get going on a routine.
I won’t have anyone beating us to it.
She presses her mouth to my ear.
That’s the best present I’ve ever had in my life,
and when I was gorgeous,
fellas bought me diamonds.
I had a boyfriend who died.
He was a right old codger – too old for me.
Sure didn’t he leave me his boat?
I couldn’t keep it.
Told the lawyer to give it to his son
and then didn’t I find out he had a wife.
A wife!
So she got the bloody boat.
Dirty old bastard.
How did you know I liked to dance?
I chew on my thumb knuckle.
Allison? she says.
How did you know?
I Am Allison
I am Allison.
I am Allison.
I am Allison.
And the world still spins.
She Will Know
I
buy
a tree
so that when
Marla comes home
she will smile and know it is
Christmas. I buy a tall tree and cover it in
baubles and coloured lights. For when Marla comes
HOME.
The Other Side
I watch Mary Poppins,
eat frozen pizza
and listen to the sounds
of Christmas coming from outside –
carols through car radios,
families drunk and happy by noon.
And
when it’s afternoon visiting hours,
I go to the hospital,
where Marla is wearing a paper hat
and watching the Queen’s Speech.
Lizzy got very old, she says.
And she needs a decent bra.
With all the money
you’d think someone would find her
a bit of support.
A nurse smiles.
Peggy saunters in.
It’s you again.
Don’t you have a home to go to?
No, I admit.
Peggy shrugs, hands Marla a gift.
Would someone turn that claptrap over?
Bake Off is on the other side.
Boxing Day
His energy is in the lift.
I can feel it on my way up.
And there he is by her bedside
,
berating her.
Do you have to make that
noise through your mouth?
I interrupt.
Do you mean her breathing?
Would you like her to stop?
I laugh. It is fake.
Donal does a double take,
lifts his chin.
He has fluff in his beard.
Hey, Marla!
I got you a bag of strawberry laces.
They’ll rot your dentures.
Who are you? Donal demands.
Me? I’m Allison.
And I know all about you, Donal.
Lovely to meet you.
I do not think he can tell I am a teenager.
Perhaps my tone
suggests social worker.
He stands. Downs something
from a polystyrene cup.
Money is up on my parking.
I’ll be back in a few days, he says.
See you later, Mum.
Marla watches him walk away.
Your son, I remind her,
is a bit of a bastard.
Kelly-Anne Calls
And all I can do is cry.
It’s OK, she says over and over.
It’s OK,
it’s OK,
it’s OK.
Is it?
The Sun-Up Bakery
Kelly-Anne pulls apart an almond croissant,
hands me one half
though I’ve a muffin of my own –
blueberries oozing from its crusty lid.
So, she says.
Yeah, I say.
I’m sorry, she says.
I’m sorry, I say.
He’s the one who should be sorry, she says,
pushing my hair back from my face.
Did he do that? Did he?
Pastry drifts into my lap.
Kelly-Anne gently brushes the crumbs away
from my skirt.
Her fingers are swollen.
Where are you living? she asks.
I’m fine, I say.
I was worried, she says. I came to find you.
I almost went back to Tottenham.
He’d have killed you, I say.
I don’t know whether or not
I’m being dramatic.
I might mean it.
When are you due?
I finally glance at her tummy.
Next week.
I’m terrified.
Do you know how big a baby’s head is?
I lay my hand on her bump.
The baby swims around
inside her like a
jellyfish,
turning the surface of her tummy
into moving mounds.
How did it get there? I find myself saying.
Kelly-Anne grins,
doesn’t understand the question.
But I am thinking of my father.
How did something as beautiful as a baby
happen without anyone getting hurt?
You only legged it once your kid was at risk, I say.
I am trying to explain how she let me down.
She touches my chin. I have a place. Come with me.
Bedsit
Kelly-Anne’s bedsit is smaller
than Marla’s sitting room.
The kitchen is a sink,
microwave on the draining board,
a shelf above
with one mug, one glass, a plate.
It smells of nail varnish.
Don’t say it’s nice.
I know it’s awful.
She winces,
grips her tummy.
You can’t stay here, I say.
I have somewhere we can go.
Not for ever.
But for tonight.
In Marla’s House
It would do no good
to tell Kelly-Anne the whole
truth
and nothing but the truth,
so
instead
I make her tea and
change the bedcovers
and vaguely mention Marla’s
hospitalisation from a fall and not
from her confusion.
She isn’t a weirdo, is she? Kelly-Anne wonders.
Unlike Lucy,
Kelly-Anne avoids touching things,
won’t lean against the walls
for the first hour.
You sure she wouldn’t mind me staying?
I say no because it’s the truth.
I don’t think Marla would mind.
Even so.
I keep the lights low and the curtains drawn.
Always
Marla is sitting up in her hospital bed.
Kelly-Anne shakes her hand
hello
and when I see in Marla’s eyes
that she has forgotten me
I shake her hand too
and say,
Did they hard-boil your egg again?
Hard-boil it?
They baked and varnished it.
Probably cos of salmonella.
Kelly-Anne smiles.
They’re just trying to needle me.
I overheard a nurse saying I was tricky.
Anyone would think I was a magician.
Tricky?
They wouldn’t know what to do if
I got difficult.
Is that a baby you have in there
or did you have a big feed for breakfast yourself?
Kelly-Anne doesn’t seem to hear.
She leans back into the chair suddenly and
whistles, her eyes wide.
She breathes hard through clenched teeth.
No, I say. No, not now, please.
Now isn’t that tidy?
If we were in a film you’d roll your eyes.
Marla presses the call bell.
Make sure they give you plenty of drugs.
Don’t be a hero.
Kelly-Anne starts to cry.
I’m so alone, she says.
We all are, I say.
But now we’re alone together.
Demi-Sister
When I hold Helena’s kitten-body
close,
feel her saw-toothed spine
against my arm,
I can’t remember how I ever
lived without her.
Louise
Peggy is talking quickly
while Marla looks at the wall.
Here’s your pal.
Peggy scoots her chair sideways
to make room for me.
I was just talking to Marla about how exciting
it’ll be to move to Portsmouth.
Louise is down there.
Peggy lowers her voice.
She’s Mary’s girl.
I don’t know whether you knew she had children.
I’ve come across Donal.
Marla pulls at the IV line.
I told you already. I like my house.
I need new carpet on the stairs,
that’s all.
Peggy leans in.
It isn’t immediate.
We’ll get you packed up
and take all your things down there with you.
Marla reaches for me.
Her eyes are sad.
I only just got you back
and now we have to say goodbye again.
I can’t say goodbye again, Toffee.
Forever
No goodbye is forever
unless you can
erase everything you ever
knew about a person and
everything you once felt.
I left Dad a few months ago
and decided
that was it –
I was drawing a line under
knowing him.
But sometimes I wake with his voice in my ears
and his maybe-love in my guts
and I remember everything good about
him w
hich has been left behind
and forget the bad,
and it makes me so sad
I wish I had the courage to call him
and beg for him to be better.
Mum has been dead my whole life
and not a day goes by when I don’t think
about how we would have been together –
all the spaces left empty where
she should have stood.
No goodbye is forever
unless you can
erase everything you ever
knew about a person and
everything you once felt.
Marla Is Home
Kelly-Anne came back with Helena
and made them a nest in the room that was mine.
I have to confess something, I told her a few days later.
She threw a rattle at me
when I explained
what was what.
We’re squatters! she shouted.
We hide in the shed
the day Marla comes home,
the three of us like fugitives,
until we are sure Peggy and Donal have gone
and Marla is alone again.
Blank
The line of daylight drops down out of sight.
I take Kelly-Anne and Helena in the back door.
Marla is playing scrabble with herself,
tiles of letters littering the table.
Is ramrod a word? she asks.
Kelly-Anne snickers.
Helena wails.
Marla straightens up.
I don’t know why you’re so pleased.
Have you seen yourself?
Toffee Page 14
