Daria's Daughter

by Linda Huber

  Something smelled horrible. Evie swivelled round – oh no! It was the TV. Was that smoke coming out of the back?

  She whimpered and scooted back to the kitchen, where Mammy was bent over her tea at the table.

  ‘I wanted to watch TV and now it smells all burny!’

  Mammy gaped at her, then sniffed the air. ‘I don’t smell anything.’

  Evie pulled Mammy’s arm, and she swayed through to the living room. It was smoke coming out of the TV, and Evie began to cry.

  ‘Tsk. It’s been broken for years. Leave it alone, maid.’ Mammy yanked the plug from the wall, then flopped down on the sofa.

  Evie crept back to the kitchen. Mammy’s cup was empty, but Evie was too little to make her a cup of tea. She filled a glass with water and took it through to the living room.

  ‘I brought you a drink.’

  Mammy took the glass and gave her a cracked little smile. ‘Fetch me the pills too, and then we’ll remember Ireland.’

  Mammy’s Ireland stories were nice, though Evie didn’t remember the things they’d done there. It must be the same as Spain, though, because there was a beach and rocks to climb over. She hurried back to the kitchen for the pills. Mammy swallowed two, then Evie clambered up and Mammy pulled her onto her lap.

  She gave Evie a little squeeze. ‘What was the best thing about Bantry Bay?’

  ‘The sea?’

  ‘That’s right. Your daddy had a boat when you were little and we all used to go fishing. Swimming sometimes, too, but you liked it best when we were on the beach and you all went paddling.’

  ‘Did we have ice cream?’

  ‘For a treat. You liked having raspberry sauce on yours and Maeve liked the chocolate.’

  Raspberry on your ice cream was yummy. Mammy coughed, and her chest heaved against Evie’s back. She jumped down and handed Mammy the glass of water.

  ‘Good girl. Let me have a little sleep while you play for a bit, darlin’.’ Mammy sipped her water. Very soon she was snoring.

  Evie went back to the kitchen. Poor Mammy. But it would help if she washed some of the cups and glasses, wouldn’t it? Mammy didn’t have a dishwasher. The water was cold but there was plenty of it, and Evie soon had a row of clean glasses and cups on the draining board, though she got her bandage all wet. The tea towel was dirty, so she searched through drawers until she found a clean one. It had a big hole and the picture was all washed away, but she dried the things anyway.

  She was almost finished when Mammy came through to the kitchen and opened a tin of tomato soup for lunch. Evie cleared a space on the table and found bowls and spoons for the soup. She was helping, and it was nice.

  The sun came out while they were having lunch, and Evie went to the kitchen window as soon as they’d finished their soup. ‘Can I go out to play?’

  Mammy was drinking pink medicine straight from the bottle. ‘Don’t go on the grass until it’s dry or you’ll catch your death too.’

  Evie ran out before Mammy changed her mind. Everything was quiet in Frith’s garden, so Evie played a game with some twigs she found to waggle about while Socks pounced on them. She would listen all the time, though, and – yes! That was Frith talking in her garden. Evie wriggled through the jungle to the back fence.

  ‘Frith! Are you there?’

  Frith came squashing through the bushes. ‘Ouch – my jungle’s thicker than yours!’ She poked at a scratch on her arm.

  ‘Can you come and play with the cats?’

  ‘I’ll ask.’ She pushed her way back, and Evie jumped up and down to see more of the other garden. It was true, Frith’s jungle was more jungly.

  After a minute Frith was back. ‘I can’t stay for long. We’re having ice cream and cake with a friend of Mummy’s and when she’s gone home we’re going to the shops and then the park. I’ll be back afterwards, though.’

  She crawled through the biggest hole in the fence and joined Evie, and they started a game of Catch the Twig with Socks at the back of Mammy’s house. They’d only been playing for five minutes when Frith’s mummy called, and Evie was alone all over again.

  Mummy used to take her to the park too, but that was before. Evie kicked a stone around for a while, then sat on the step with half a packet of biscuits she’d found in a cupboard in the kitchen. They’d gone all soft, though, so she spat the first bite out then went back inside and put the rest in the bin. The packet of pills was in there, all squashed up. They hadn’t made Mammy better, had they? Evie put her head into the living room, but Mammy was asleep on the sofa, her breath rattling in her chest. Evie closed the door and headed for the stairs. She’d better play in the house in case Mammy needed her to fetch something.

  Upstairs, she went into the smallest room where nobody slept. She would build a house for her and the cats, yes, there was a big box with a lot of little boxes inside it in the corner here. By the time Mammy called, Evie and Socks were having a lovely game in their own houses, though Socks only sat in his box and miaowed at Evie when she tried to make him visit hers.

  Back in the kitchen, Mammy had started to make tea. Her face was pink and shiny, but she smiled at Evie and held out one hand.

  ‘Come on, Bridie, maid. Let’s get that bandage fixed.’

  Evie sat still while Mammy took the bandage off. It was dry now. ‘Why am I called Bridie?’

  ‘It was your grandma’s sister’s name. She went away to Dublin when she was a young woman, then she married a man from the north and went there to live. Maeve is after my little sister – she died of tuberculosis when she was just two.’

  Oh no – a little girl died? ‘Didn’t she go to hospital? And what’s tuber— what you said?’

  ‘It’s when your lungs are sick and you can’t breathe properly. They took her away for a while, but my mammy brought her home again. There was nothing you could do in those days.’ She coughed and reached for the medicine bottle.

  ‘Are you sick too?’ It would be awful if Mammy was as sick as little Maeve who died.

  ‘Nothing but a silly cough. I’ll get something else at the chemist soon, that’ll fix it.’

  Mammy fastened the bandage again and Evie tried out her arm. It was almost as good as new. She smiled at Mammy, but then Mammy started coughing again, harder than before.

  She waved Evie to the sink. ‘Water!’

  Evie fetched a glassful and Mammy sipped, but the cough kept coming back. Mammy stood up and leaned on a space beside the kettle, making a funny noise as she breathed. Evie was breathing fast too – what if they took Mammy away to hospital? Would she go back to Mummy then? Was Mummy home yet? And what about the cats?

  A shivery-scared lump was heavy in Evie’s tummy now. She ran to fetch the pink medicine – oh, no, the bottle was nearly empty. Mammy grabbed it and fumbled the top off, but then it slipped from her hand and crashed to the floor. Pink medicine oozed out, and Evie’s throat went all thick and choky. Oh, poor Mammy.

  Mammy leaned her head on her hands, pushing the toaster to one side. Her shoulders were shaking.

  Evie stood still. What should she do? It was dreadful when grown-ups cried.

  Chapter 20

  Daria tucked tissues into her handbag, and lifted her jacket from the coatstand. Was she ready for this coffee invitation? She and Liane had been friendly for a few years, but that was a long time ago. She had no idea what Liane had done in the meantime. Except, have a baby. Was Frith an only child? Imagine being confronted today with Liane, several children and a happy family life. How could she even start to tell them about Evie? Maybe this wasn’t a good idea.

  Her mother’s voice came from the bedroom. ‘Do you need help, darling?’

  Too late to change anything now. Daria slung her handbag over her head, and reached for her crutches, propped against the coatstand.

  Noah was driving, and Daria settled into the back seat beside her mother. They were dropping her off at Liane’s, then Noah and her parents were going on to Silverburn Shopping Centre. Mum and Dad were fl
ying back to Spain on Sunday, so they wanted some home-stuff to take with them. No doubt too the three of them would seize the opportunity to talk about her and how she was coping. Daria swallowed rising apprehension. In five minutes, it would be Liane and her family she’d be coping with…

  Noah pulled up on a wide street near a park and came to help Daria out. ‘We’ll be back for you between three and four. I’ll text you when we’re leaving Silverburn.’

  ‘That’s fine. If I need to leave before that for any reason, I’ll let you know.’

  ‘Why would you?’

  Daria struggled to reply pleasantly to his petulant tone. Mum hated it when she and Noah snapped at each other. It was easier to keep the peace.

  ‘I don’t know if she has anything else planned.’ Daria ducked her head to speak to her parents. ‘Have a good shop.’ She swung her way up Liane’s front path.

  Liane opened the door and stood back to let her in. ‘Lovely to see you, Daria. Now, do you want to sit on an armchair, or would we be better at the kitchen table?’

  Daria handed over her crutches while she shrugged out of her jacket. How nice of Liane to ask. ‘The kitchen table would be easier, thanks.’

  Liane led the way into a bright but ancient kitchen. ‘I was on crutches for a while when I was a teenager. It’s amazing how much we take for granted about moving around the place, isn’t it? Grab a chair.’

  Daria sat, and leaned her crutches on the wall to her left. ‘How long have you been here?’

  Liane looked at her watch. ‘Almost twenty-eight hours.’ She jerked her head at the pile of boxes in one corner. ‘That’s why cardboard is such a major part of the ambience at the moment.’

  Daria gasped. ‘Gosh – you’ve settled in quickly! It was weeks before I even considered inviting people for coffee when we moved into our place.’

  Liane laughed. ‘What’re a few boxes between friends? We’ll be living in chaos for a few months, anyway. The house is being renovated soon and we’ll move out for the duration.’

  She chatted on while she was setting out coffee mugs, and Daria circled tight shoulders. Frith wasn’t here. Would this be a good time to tell Liane about Evie? The thought had barely formed in her mind when the back door burst open and Frith charged in.

  ‘Are we having cake now? Hello, Daria!’

  And there it was, Evie’s love of life. Most happy little girls would have it, but it was still heart-wrenching for Daria to see.

  Liane winked at her. ‘Frith, sweetie-pie, that was very nearly the perfect way to come into the room when we have a visitor. Next time, say hello before you ask about the menu, and you’ll have cracked it.’ She dropped a kiss on Frith’s blonde head, and Daria’s heart broke.

  The next hour was spent at the table, with Frith eating a huge portion of chocolate ice cream as well as a chunk of apple cake while she interrogated Daria and Liane about their school days. It was hard not to laugh at the little face opposite, so serious while she asked her questions. Daria’s cake vanished before she realised she’d eaten it – for seconds at a time, this was like being back in the universe she’d been catapulted out of on the day of the accident. But in between, again and again, reality hit her like a kick in the stomach. Evie should have been here too.

  Eventually, Frith ran out of questions and dessert. ‘Can I go and play with Bridie again until we go to the park?’ Bright eyes met Daria’s. ‘Bridie’s my new friend – she’s got lots and lots of cats.’

  Liane was shaking her head. ‘The rain’s back on, look. Why don’t you unpack more of your toys?’

  Frith’s face fell as she stared outside, but she thundered upstairs obediently. Silence fell in the kitchen, and Daria drained her mug. This would be the ideal time to—

  ‘More coffee?’ Liane went over to the machine.

  Daria watched idly as she pressed buttons, and the clock on the microwave swam into focus – gosh, it was well after three. Noah could turn up any second. ‘Half a cup would be lovely, thanks.’

  Should she…? No. She wasn’t going to start a difficult conversation today. They’d had a nice afternoon and anyway, Frith could reappear at any second too. A conversation about Evie was best had when there were no children present and they had plenty of time. And to prove the point, here was Frith again, a picture book clutched to her chest.

  ‘Daria, would you like to see my fairy book? And can I show Daria my game on your phone, Mummy?’

  ‘We’re in a phone-free zone this afternoon, love bug. Show Daria the book, though – the illustrations are gorgeous.’

  Frith slid her chair round the table, and a whiff of lemon shampoo reached Daria’s nose. Oh, how many times had she sat leafing through a book with Evie? Her girl would have loved these pictures too. Daria forced out a few questions about the story, loving Frith’s answers and hating the fact that her heart was torn between the joy of the moment and the twin holes of loss and grief.

  Her mobile buzzed in her bag, and Daria was glad to see Noah’s text. With you in five.

  ‘That’s my husband. I’ll wait by the door, if you don’t mind. He has Mum and Dad in the car too. Liane, Frith, thank you so much for a lovely afternoon.’

  Liane walked with her to the door and helped her into her jacket. ‘We’ll do it again sometime. And see if you can make it to the reunion, Daria – I think it’ll be a lot of fun.’

  It would have to be fun without her. Daria swung her way to the car when Noah drew up outside. She waved to Liane and Frith in the doorway, and dropped into the back seat beside her mother. Who’d have thought that spending an hour or two with a little girl who wasn’t Evie would be so tough – and so wonderful?

  Day Eighteen – Monday 4th May

  Chapter 21

  Liane awoke on the day of the interview to rain battering against the windows, almost drowning out her mobile ringing on the bedside table. Shit, had she overslept? Panic surged until she saw it was only half past six. She scrabbled to connect; bummer, this was Karen, who was supposed to be looking after Frith while Liane was at the interview – please, please, don’t let her say she was backing out.

  ‘I’m so sorry, Liane, but Susie’s been up sick all night. Can you find someone else to take Frithy?’

  Liane dredged up her Superwoman skills. ‘Oh, poor little thing. Don’t worry, I’ll manage something.’

  She dropped the phone as soon as Karen disconnected, and flopped back on the pillow. Who on earth could she ask at three seconds’ notice? All her other friends had work to go to and Steve was on duty this morning too. Tony? Gawd. It was going to come to that, wasn’t it? The only other person she could think of was Daria, who Frithy barely knew and who was on crutches. She tapped to connect to Tony’s number, grinning wryly. A 6.33 call; how to make yourself popular with your ex who’d most likely been partying all weekend. Her call went to voicemail. Liane tried three times with the same result, then thumped the pillow. Tony was most likely still in bed with a massive weekend hangover. There was no reason to suppose he’d answer a text in a useful time frame. She’d have one more go in half an hour.

  Liane showered, then put on her bathrobe – it wouldn’t do to spill half her breakfast down her interview outfit, and the way her hands shook every time she thought about half past nine, that was almost inevitable. Okay, should she have coffee for the energy boost, or a nice herbal tea to calm her nerves? No question really, was there? She pressed buttons for cappuccino and chewed her way through a bowlful of healthy muesli.

  Okay. Now to try Tony again. Pick up, pick up… Voicemail. They were onto plan B. It was half seven, late enough to try Daria. Liane swiped down her contacts list. Daria and Frithy’d got on like a house on fire on Friday and Daria didn’t have a job to go to while her leg was healing, so fingers crossed. A text might be a good way to start.

  Babysitter fail – any chance you could take F for 1–2 hours this a.m. while I’m at my interview? Liane sent it off and went for more coffee.

  Her phone rang b
efore she’d pressed a single button. Daria – wow, this was hopeful.

  ‘Hi, Liane – I have a hair appointment at half eleven, would that suit your times?’

  A wave of relief flashed through Liane. ‘Yes! The interview’s at half nine. I’d be in your debt forever. I know it’s a big ask when you’re on crutches. Perhaps your mum can help?’

  ‘Mum and Dad went home yesterday, but if you bring Frith here, I can manage. It’s not as if I’d have to run around after her all the time.’

  Sorted, if not a hundred per cent ideal. Liane made a note of the address and went back to planning. It might be best to damn the expense and get a taxi to Daria’s and then on to the hospital. She couldn’t sit down in front of the interview panel all rushed and sweaty, not to mention rain-splashed. So much was riding on this interview.

  Frith was charmed when she learned about the new plan for the morning. ‘Shall I take my fairy book? Daria liked that.’

  Ten to nine saw their taxi pull up in front of Daria’s building. Liane leaned forward to speak to the driver. ‘I’ll see my daughter inside and be straight back.’

  She raced in with Frith, who was carrying a huge bag of books and toys, and bundled her up the stairs to Daria’s flat door.

  ‘Be good!’ She kissed Frith and rang the bell, grinning at Daria when the door opened. ‘I’ll be back ASAP – I’ll text you when I’m on my way. You’re a star; I owe you.’

  Back in the taxi, she sat organising her head into a more interview-like mindset. This simply had to go well.

  The Children’s Hospital was busy, and Liane crossed the entrance hallway with her heart beating in her throat. Quarter past nine; she was in good time. A quick trip to the loo, then she’d be ready for anything they asked her. She hoped. The next hour could change her life.

  The interview passed in a blur, with Liane on one side of a large and shiny wooden conference table and the panel of three on the other. The head of the admin staff was there, plus the leader of the playgroup and some high-up person in the nursing hierarchy, though Liane wasn’t clear what his role on the panel was. They were all older than she’d been expecting – the administrator must have been past retirement age – and while they were pleasant, they weren’t friendly. Liane sat with her hands clasped tightly on her lap, struggling at first to keep her breathing under control. Once she settled down it was okay, though; the one question that threw her slightly was why she hadn’t asked her previous employer for a reference.