by Linda Huber
Daria scrolled further down the page. A few photos of their school days were up too. Here was one of her and her Kit, all smiles and holding the area trophy while the rest of their netball team beamed in the background. She’d been happy back then, and oh, if only she could go back. Relive her life in exactly the same way, right up until that taxi journey.
All-consuming emptiness swirled around in her head, and Daria closed her eyes. Help me, someone. This is so hard.
Day Thirteen – Wednesday 29th April
Chapter 17
Her cough was worse this morning, and her legs weren’t doing too well either. Margie leaned heavily on the banister on the way downstairs. She hadn’t felt this rough for many a long day – for two pins she’d have stayed in bed, but the family was waiting. They needed her, and she needed them to keep her going.
Most of the cats were milling around yowling for food. Bridie ran out of the living room when Margie arrived at the bottom of the stairs – seeing the maid so bright and ready for breakfast was the first good thing about today. Bridie shook cat food into bowls while Margie made toast and provided fresh water, then collapsed onto a hard chair at the table and leaned her head on one hand. It was hard when you were ill and had little ones – especially now, when she was alone with such a big family to take care of. Oh, they should have stayed in Ireland.
Bantry Bay… Life had been more sociable there, especially when she was a little one. In those days, neighbours had helped you. Food was scarcer but people had shared, they’d come by with a few extra spuds or a cabbage. And if a mother was ill, well, everyone in the street would rally round. Margie wiped her eyes on her sleeve. Bad days didn’t usually get to her like this.
‘Can you get me a glass of water, Bride, darlin’?’
Bridie left her toast and went to the sink. Margie gulped the whole glass down, wincing. She should get something from the chemist’s, but that meant going there, and medicine was expensive. Still, she needed something to get her back on her feet again.
Most of the cats vanished outside when the food was gone. Tabitha was on the kitchen table but that was all right, she was allowed to do what she liked, li’l mama she was. Marmaduke was still sniffing around the empty bowls, and Ermintrude and Bridie were playing with a piece of string in the hallway. Margie lifted her purse.
‘Out with you, Marmaduke. Bridie, Ermie, darlin’s, you keep Tabitha company in the warm while I’m out.’
She shooed Marmaduke outside then ushered the other three into the living room. The kitchen window was always open in case someone needed to get in or out. Her bag… here it was. She was ready. Where was she going, again? She coughed – oh, that hurt. The chemist, yes.
Margie croaked a goodbye, closed the back door behind her but didn’t lock it – she’d lost the key somewhere this week. But no matter. The front door was locked, and nobody ever came around the back except Mrs Fancy Curtains at the side, and she’d only done that once. All the old friendly neighbours they’d had when they moved here were long gone, more was the pity.
The road to the chemist’s was as long as it had ever been. Margie’s feet dragged along the pavement as her head grew hotter and her breath shorter. She would have a sit-down on that strip of scratched grey plastic in the bus shelter outside the chemist. You couldn’t call it a seat; it wasn’t wide enough to sit on properly. You were supposed to lean on it and poke at your mobile phone. She came to the bus shelter and leaned thankfully on the grubby rest. They were nosy parkers and busybodies in the chemist’s too; if she went in all breathless, they might not let her out again.
Watching the traffic filled a few minutes, and thanks be, no one paid any attention to her. Margie swung herself forward and stood straight – yes, that was better. She’d be fine in no time with some medicine.
‘Bottle of aspirin, please.’
The lass behind the counter didn’t look old enough to be at secondary school, never mind out working. ‘I’ll give you a packet, shall I?’
Snooty li’l madam. Margie slid a note over the counter, scrabbled up the change that was slid back to her and retreated. Twenty piddling little aspirins wouldn’t last her long, would they? What was wrong with a bottle of a hundred pills like you used to get? All they wanted nowadays was to make you spend more money and she didn’t have it. She had Bridie and the others to buy things for, and the kits. The walk home had Margie’s head throbbing with every step, and she was almost in tears by the time she arrived at her street. Two more minutes – she would manage.
Inside, she went straight to the living room. Empty. What rascals those three were, but surely Bridie hadn’t gone out after she’d been told not to. Tabitha should take better care too; those kitties could come any day.
‘Bridie!’
A thud came from upstairs, and Margie relaxed. ‘It’s all right – stay in your room!’
She coughed, then collapsed onto the sofa to recover her breath. It was a moment before she was able to go for some water to wash the aspirins down. She glanced out, but the other girls and boys were all out of sight. So precious, they were, especially Tabitha and Bridie. Her little family. She had to get better for them.
Day Fourteen – Thursday 30th April
Chapter 18
Liane scrabbled around in the bottom of the removal box for the garlic press and a stray bottle-opener that had escaped the bag of miscellaneous bits and pieces they’d started out in, and dropped them into the cutlery drawer. Another box unpacked. Whoever had said that moving house was one of the five most stressful things you did in life had got it dead right – and it was especially true when you went from sitting still to full speed ahead in three seconds flat, like they had. Her legs were aching; you’d think she’d run a marathon every day since last Wednesday.
Steve came in with the ironing board ‘This for the cupboard in here?’
‘If there’s space.’ Liane added the empty box to the pile by the back door. ‘I think we’re winning, you know.’
He closed the cupboard door on the ironing board and grinned at her. Liane grinned back. It was amazing, spending time with Steve. They’d had a trip down the Clyde Coast on Monday afternoon when he was off work, and even with Frith monopolising the conversation, being with him had felt right. Now he was helping them with the speediest removal of the century. Life was looking up.
‘Mummy! I knocked down six skittles!’
Frith was out on the patio, playing with the skittles set Steve had bought her on Monday, the picture of a happy child. Liane sent a thumbs up through the kitchen window. Just think, they had a garden all of their own; that was heading towards a dream come true. Not to mention two parks within walking distance, one a mere hundred yards away, and the primary school Frith would go to after summer was in the next street. It was perfect. They were also quite a lot closer to Tony’s flat, which was questionably less perfect. One thing she’d need to do today was inform him of their new address.
Frith appeared at the back door, accompanied by an enormous orange cat. ‘Can I have a biscuit? Look, Mummy, Marmaduke’s here – he’s so friendly! Do you think he’d like a biscuit too?’
Liane bent to stroke the cat, who purred obligingly and stepped into the kitchen. Help – she didn’t want every cat in the neighbourhood coming by for afternoon tea every day. Liane handed over a chocolate digestive and ushered Frith outside again, relieved when Marmaduke followed on.
‘We shouldn’t feed him, Frithy – look, he’s not exactly skinny. He obviously gets plenty of grub at home. You can be garden friends, huh?’
Frith was charmed. ‘We can make a little house – or a den – in the bushes! Come on, Marmaduke!’ She skipped off down the garden, and Liane turned back to the house to see Steve leaning in the back doorway.
He lurched upright, producing a bottle of Prosecco from behind his back. ‘Well fielded, Mummy. How about we toast your new home?’
‘Good plan. I think I know where the glasses are.’
His eyes w
ere warm, and Liane’s insides tugged in a delicious, shivery way. Golly, this really could be the start of something big in her life. New house, new bloke (potentially) – all she needed was the new job to complete the trio. She shook nuts into a bowl while Steve poured drinks, and they adjourned to the elderly iron bench beneath the kitchen window.
Liane called down the garden. ‘Frith! Want some nuts?’
Frith’s voice was audible, talking presumably to the orange cat, but the little girl was lost to sight in the bushes. Liane called again. Imagine losing your child in your own back garden – this couldn’t be more different to the patch of crazed, crumbling concrete they’d shared with three other flats at their old place.
Frith bounced across the grass and plumped down at Liane’s feet. ‘Bridie’s not here, but I met one of her other cats. He’s black and he’s much smaller than Marmaduke. He came through a hole in the fence.’
‘Marmaduke and Mr Black.’ Steve ruffled Frith’s hair. ‘Wonder who the next one’ll be? Mr White? Or Mr Black Patch over one eye?’
Frith giggled ‘Or Mr Stripy! Bridie said they had lots of cats! And one’s having kittens soon!’
‘You can ask their real names when we meet Bridie and her mum properly,’ said Liane, a vague idea entering her mind at the mention of kittens. Frith would love a little cat of their own and, with a cat-owning neighbour, they’d be able to exchange holiday feeding duties.
Frith gulped down her apple juice and grabbed a generous handful of nuts before vanishing into the undergrowth again.
Steve put an arm across Liane’s shoulders and gave her a quick hug. ‘She’s a lovely kid, you know.’
‘She’s my world. It’s going to be so much better for her here. Hey, I think I’ll have a house-warming party in a week or two. There are loads of people I’d like to thank for babysitting and helping me when Frithy was poorly – a celebration would be fun.’ Especially if she was celebrating a new job, too. The chances were good – as well as the creche job, she’d applied for an admin one in a logistics company and another in a medical supplies depot. Neither of the others came with childcare attached, though, so the hospital one would be best.
Steve went for the Prosecco bottle, and Liane tapped into her phone contacts, planning her invitations. There were dozens of people here. Steve, and Jon and his family, Sister Annie, plus the old neighbours and the new ones here they didn’t know yet, not to mention people like old school friends – and that reminded her, she should reply to that email about the reunion. It would be fun to see what everyone had been up to in the twelve years or so since they’d left school. She’d need to find a babysitter, preferably one where Frithy could spend the night. Sister Annie might help there… Liane stood up. The chatter in the bushes had stopped. Where was Frith?
‘Frith!’
Silence. Did Frithy realise you shouldn’t start exploring other people’s gardens? They would have to work out some rules here.
‘She’ll be concentrating on her game,’ said Steve, reaching for Liane’s glass to refill it.
A sudden giggle was accompanied by a flash of red T-shirt between the bushes, and Liane sat down again. A neurotic mother was the last thing any child needed.
She accepted a full glass from Steve. He’d already offered to lick the garden into shape for her. ‘Do you think you could thin those bushes out a touch?’
He shot her a look then cast his eyes heavenwards. ‘How (not) to endear yourself to your new girlfriend’s child.’
Ooh. Liane flapped her hand in front of her face to cool the flush. ‘Am I your new girlfriend, then? Do I have any say in this?’
‘Aren’t you? I know it’s early days, but… I’d like you to be.’
He’d gone all pink too. Liane raised her glass. ‘Here’s to us, then.’
They clinked, and Steve took her hand as they sat sipping and chatting about things they could do that summer, though part of her was on constant alert for sights and sounds of her daughter. What was it going to be like when Frithy went on her first sleepover, her first night out, not to mention her first date? And to think that a year or two ago she’d have given everything she owned to see her girl playing so happily. Parenting wasn’t for wimps.
At coffee time she yelled for Frith, and a moment or two later the little girl came running up the garden.
‘Mummy, I’ve met lots of Bridie’s cats in their garden! She came out to play for a little while. The little black one’s called Ermintrude and I met Daisy and Socks and Demelza too. The others don’t come outside so much, Margie said. The one who’s having kitties soon is Tabitha, Mummy, can we…?’
Unbearably hopeful eyes bored into hers, and Liane didn’t try to hide her grin. ‘We’ll think about it. Is Margie Bridie’s mum? You should come and check with me before you go into people’s gardens, Frithy.’
‘Bridie said it was okay. We were playing houses. I was Dad and Bridie was Mum and Marmaduke and—’
She chattered on, and Liane gloried in those pink cheeks, and the sheer love of life streaming from her child. She would have to go by and say hello to Margie, but immediately after consuming three glasses of Prosecco wasn’t the best time to introduce yourself to the neighbours.
Steve had coffee with them before leaving Liane to sort Frith’s possessions into the little girl’s new bedroom. At six o’clock Frith announced she was hungry, so Liane went downstairs to make dinner. Spaghetti and sauce from a jar would do; this had been a tiring day.
Her mobile vibrated on the work surface and Liane lifted it, sighing. Life did keep on getting in the way. It was an email from Ruby, the woman who was organising the reunion. A list of people so far attending was attached, and a reminder to anyone else interested that they’d need to accept by May 5th to get tickets. This was going to be great – she would ask Steve to be her plus one. It would be fun, meeting people she hadn’t seen for yonks. Liane scanned the list of ex-schoolmates – Daria wasn’t there, but most of her other old friends were. Spontaneously, she tapped to make a voice call to Daria.
‘Hi, Liane.’
Daria’s voice was dull. She said nothing more, and Liane sat down at the kitchen table, which was still piled high with stuff she had yet to find a home for. Had she been too spontaneous, calling like this?
‘Hello – I’ve just seen the message from Ruby about the reunion. I guess you got one too?’
‘Ah, yes. I won’t be able to go, though.’
‘Oh, what a pity. I think it’ll be brilliant to see everyone again. I’ve more or less kept up with Gill and Karen, but that’s all. They’re both still in Glasgow.’
‘I haven’t kept up with anyone except Kit. She’s working in insurance in the city centre.’
‘Are you able to work at the moment, with your leg? Is it healing well?’
‘No. I don’t know when I’ll start again. It’s improving every day, though.’
Daria sounded terribly down, and Liane frowned in sympathy. It couldn’t be much fun, getting about on crutches and not being able to do everything you usually did.
The spaghetti water boiled, and Frith ran in from the garden.
‘Mummy, I’m hungry!’
‘Coming, love bug.’ Liane made an impulsive decision. ‘Daria – how about a coffee sometime? It would be nice to catch up, especially if you can’t come to the reunion. When would suit?’
‘Um – that would be nice. Any time suits.’
‘Great. Tomorrow at two?’
Daria agreed, and Liane gave her new address before hanging up and looking through her kitchen cupboards for the spaghetti. This had been the best day ever – moved in, Steve being lovely, and an old friend coming tomorrow. Now to concentrate on feeding her ravenous daughter. Having a garden made you extra-hungry, according to Frith.
Day Fifteen – Friday 1st May
Chapter 19
Mammy wasn’t well. Evie ate her toast quietly, blinking across the table as Mammy coughed her way through a cup of tea. She’d been cough
ing a lot in the night, too. It sounded sore. Evie had woken up twice when Mammy went to bang around downstairs – looking for medicine? The packet of pills was sitting beside the kettle.
Mammy sneezed, then she wiped her nose with her sleeve and leaned her head on one hand. Evie peered around the kitchen, but there weren’t any tissues. It was all a big mess here, even more than usual, and Mammy had forgotten to fill one of the cats’ water bowls. Evie jumped up and filled it, spilling quite a lot of water on the floor, but Mammy didn’t say anything.
‘Can I play outside?’ Maybe Frith would be out too.
‘It’s raining. Leave me in peace to get better, maid. Play in the house for now.’
Mammy coughed again, and Evie changed her mind about asking to have her bandage done. Her arm was much better anyway. She went through to the living room, but there wasn’t anything to play with here and the TV was nothing like the one they’d had at Mummy’s. This one was old and tiny, and it was in a dusty fat wooden box and not on the wall. The remote was nowhere to be seen. Evie stood in front of the TV – it had knobs on the side. She turned one, but nothing happened. Ah – it wasn’t plugged in. The plug was a bit old, too. Evie lifted it, then looked at the door. She wasn’t allowed to plug things in at home, but Mammy was still coughing in the kitchen. Evie shoved the plug into the socket on the wall and tried the knobs again. The TV made a crackly noise a few times, but nothing happened. Evie gave up. The cats were better fun, anyway.
A lorry splashed up the street, and Evie went over to the window. Mammy’s front garden was untidy too, and it was much smaller than the back. And it was still raining. And—
