Daria's Daughter

by Linda Huber

  They weren’t going to help her here. She would leave the moment she could.

  ‘Her BP’s better, Steve.’

  ‘Good. Get her into a gown and I’ll call Davie to come and have another look now she’s come round. See if you can find any clue as to who she is in her pockets.’

  The voices were going over her head. The best thing was to let them get on with it. They’d get tired of her sooner or later and then she’d be able to get on and find Bridie. Margie lay passively as the girl unbuttoned her cardigan. But no, no, she didn’t want it off – she needed her things.

  ‘What are you doing? This is mine!’ She clutched at the sleeve the girl was pulling down her arm.

  ‘I’ll put everything into a bag for you and leave it right here under the bed. Don’t worry.’

  Margie gave up, and let her arms go limp. She couldn’t stop them; she’d have to wait until they’d gone. When the girl had finished, Margie took a quick peek – ah, the man called Steve was coming back.

  ‘The doctor’s on his way.’ He took her hand in both of his.

  Margie sniffed. Her Ned had done that too.

  He was smiling into her eyes. A charmer, he was, just like her Ned. ‘Tell me your name, my love. We’ll be able to help you better if we can look at your records.’

  That was what he thought. ‘Don’t have any.’

  ‘Do you have any in Ireland? Where are you from?’

  ‘Bantry. And soon as I’ve found my girls, I’ll be going back.’

  ‘Can we phone them for you? Who do you live with?’

  Ha – he knew nothing. ‘My girls and boys.’

  ‘Lovely – are they your grandchildren?’

  ‘Over the sea and far away, they are.’

  She was babbling. That wouldn’t help her find Bridie. Bridie, who’d gone and come back again and was lost for the second time. Margie screwed up her face, clutching her chest as the beeps from somewhere close by became faster and faster and once again the world faded away.

  Day Thirty-Two – Monday 18th May (morning)

  Chapter 38

  Mammy wasn’t here. She hadn’t been here last night either, when Evie went to bed. Demelza had come to cuddle her to sleep, not Mammy, and Evie had cried because it wasn’t nice here when Mammy wasn’t home. And Daddy still hadn’t come.

  She stood in the kitchen, watching the cats as they rushed around making sure they’d found the last bite of breakfast. Was Mammy cross with her? They’d been naughty yesterday, her and Frith – Frith’s mummy had called, and Mammy had called, but they’d stayed quiet as mice in the den, waiting for Tabitha to come and eat the chicken. But then when Frith went home and Evie went back to the house, Mammy wasn’t there. She’d waited and waited but Mammy didn’t come home. It was lonely when you were all alone. Tabitha was still lost, too.

  Evie rubbed two tears away and swallowed hard. This wasn’t a nice kitchen, was it, and with Mammy gone it was worse. When was Daddy coming? She went back upstairs to check that Mammy really wasn’t there, in her room or in the bathroom, but everywhere was as empty as it had been before breakfast. And the bath still had smelly water in it.

  Evie trailed over to her bedroom window. You could see all the bushes in her garden and Frith’s from here, but nobody would ever guess there were dens underneath. What was she going to do, here all alone?

  It wasn’t as sunny today. Evie pulled a jumper over her T-shirt and went outside – Frith might be out playing. Most of the cats were out in the garden too. Evie pushed her way through the bushes to the fence, but there was still no sign of Frith. Would Tabitha be in the den today? Evie ducked back and into the den, but apart from Ermintrude in the big box, it was empty, so she climbed in beside Ermie to wait. She felt all choky and horrible inside.

  ‘Bridie! Are you out?’

  Frith! Evie jumped up and rushed through the jungle. Frith was there at the fence with half an apple in each hand. She gave one to Evie and they stood munching.

  Frith made a face. ‘Mummy was cross yesterday because I didn’t come back when she called. I’m not allowed to watch TV today. Was your mammy cross too?’

  ‘I think so. She went away. And my daddy’s not here yet, and nor is Tabitha.’

  ‘Where did your mammy go?’

  ‘I don’t know. I looked everywhere, but she’s not in the house.’

  ‘Did you look in the loft? We have a loft here.’

  The loft? Evie wrinkled her nose. ‘I don’t know.’

  ‘You’re so funny – how can you not know? Let’s go and look.’

  Marmaduke was scratching away in the grass when they ran past to the back door, and Evie pulled Frith well away from him. It didn’t do to upset Marmaduke when he was busy.

  She stepped up into the kitchen. ‘Mammy?’

  Nothing, and it was an empty kind of nothing, not like it was when Mammy was sitting quietly in the living room stroking one of the cats. Evie opened the big cupboard, but of course Mammy wasn’t in there, and she wasn’t in the living room or the hall cupboard either.

  Frith started up the stairs. ‘Let’s look up here, and we can see if you have a loft, too.’

  Evie followed, but Mammy wasn’t here, was she? And no one had ever said anything about a loft. She didn’t even know what that was. She stood on the landing while Frith opened each door in turn then stared up at the ceiling.

  ‘No loft. Your bathroom’s yukky.’

  Evie didn’t know what to say. It was true. You could smell the bathroom as soon as you came up the stairs, but she didn’t know what to do about it. ‘My other house was much nicer.’

  ‘What other house?’

  ‘Where I lived before, with Mummy and Daddy.’

  ‘Why don’t you live there any longer?’

  ‘They went to Spain, I think, or Ireland. I had a bad arm and Mammy was looking after me.’ Evie clutched at the one bright thing she knew. ‘But Mammy said Daddy’s coming home, and he’ll bring Mummy with him. They might be back now.’

  Mummy and Daddy might be in their lovely kitchen or the living room, drinking coffee and—

  Evie sat down on the top stair and buried her head in her knees. Everything was horrible here without Mammy and she was all alone and Frith didn’t understand because she had a lovely mummy still with her. Evie glowered at Frith, who was checking in the airing cupboard now. Frith had a yellow T-shirt with a sparkly unicorn on the front, and where were all Evie’s own nice clothes and her Pooh bear and her – everything?

  Frith came and sat down beside her and put an arm around her. ‘Don’t be sad. Where is your other house?’

  ‘It’s in Albert Drive’ Mummy had made her learn that.

  ‘Is that far? Did you come here in the car?’

  Evie frowned. How had she come here? There was a car, wasn’t there – but then she and Mammy had walked in the rain, but it was a long time ago and she didn’t remember exactly.

  ‘I think we walked.’

  ‘Maybe your mammy’s gone to see them and then they’ll come back and get you?’

  Evie sniffed. All, all she wanted was to find Mummy and have a lovely big cuddle on the sofa and hold on tight and never let go again. Mammy said Daddy was coming, and that was yesterday or the day before that, so he must be back by this time. She stood up.

  ‘I’m going to find my other house. Are you coming?’

  Frith’s eyes were round as saucers. ‘That’s running away.’

  ‘No, it’s not. I’m going home. And we might find Mammy.’

  ‘P’rhaps she’s gone to the shops.’

  Evie screwed up her face. Mammy might have gone to the shops, she did that quite often. When she did, she went down the path then walked up the hill. It couldn’t be far because Mammy didn’t walk fast and she was never away for long.

  ‘I’ll look there first. Come on!’ It was better now she had something to do.

  Downstairs, Demelza and Socks were in the kitchen, and oh, she still hadn’t found Tabitha. Evi
e stopped. The little baby kitties were coming soon. But if she found Mammy as well as Mummy and Daddy, that would be all right, wouldn’t it?

  ‘Bridie, I don’t think we should go away. Mummy’ll be cross all over again.’

  Evie opened the back door. ‘I’m going anyway.’

  She stepped past Daisy, stopping to stroke the soft little head. Frith was still rooted in the kitchen.

  A voice called from next door. ‘Little girl!’

  Oh, no, it was the bad cross woman. She was standing in her back garden with her hands on her hips and her mouth was all squashed up and she was frowning. Quick, quick, away!

  Evie scurried round to the front of the house, not looking to see if Frith was coming too, and out onto the pavement. There weren’t any cars driving on this road, but there was a bigger one up at the top of the hill and some cars were going along there, quite fast, and a bus.

  ‘Bridie! Wait!’

  Frith was coming after all! Bridie waited while Frith hurried up the hill. The cross neighbour was nowhere to be seen.

  ‘Is that lady gone?’

  Frith stopped beside her. ‘She went back inside. Where are you going, ’xactly?’

  ‘Mammy goes up here to the shops. Come on!’

  Evie grabbed Frith’s hand, and on they went. It was better now she wasn’t alone. They were nearly at the top of the hill when she stopped short. Yes! The houses on the other side of the big road they were coming to were different from the houses where Mammy lived, much more like her old house. This must be the right way.

  Frith was pulling at her arm again.

  ‘I don’t think we should go so far. I’m not allowed to.’

  Evie wasn’t allowed to go away either, not by Mummy and Daddy or Mammy. But she’d explain when she found Mummy or Mammy again, and it would be all right, wouldn’t it? And if Mummy was back, then she could go home properly and they could visit Mammy and the cats and that would be lovely.

  ‘We’ll only go a little way along. I’m sure it’s here somewhere. It must be.’

  Evie grabbed Frith’s hand and ran on.

  Chapter 39

  They were kind to her here, but she had to go home. Margie sighed as yet another stranger arrived by the bed – why was she in bed? She wasn’t ill, was she? No, a lovely floaty, dreamy feeling was washing all the way through her, like lying on an air mattress bobbing on the ocean in Bantry Bay.

  A new nurse was leaning over her. ‘Hello, my love. Are you going to tell us your name? Go on, then.’

  Aha. An Irish accent, but not the same as Margie’s and not to be trusted. She was from the North, this one. Margie closed her mouth stubbornly. The nurse pulled over a trolley and started to wash her.

  ‘Let’s get you all nice and clean and ready for a cuppa. Would you like that?’

  A cuppa sounded good. Margie peeked through half-closed eyes as the nurse chatted on.

  ‘Will Aiden be in to see you today?’

  Ach, her Aiden. Such a long time ago…

  ‘No.’

  ‘Is he your oldest, then? How many do you have?’

  ‘Two boys and two girls, I had.’

  ‘Where are they now, my love?’

  Over the sea and far away, and Bridie was gone, was gone. No – that was wrong; she was looking for Bridie, and she had to find her, too, poor maid. Margie jerked upright and tried to swing her legs out of bed.

  The nurse laid her back on the pillows. ‘You stay right here, my love. We have to take care of you, you know. Where does your Aiden live? What’s his other name?’

  ‘Donohoe.’ It slipped out before Margie had time to think.

  The nurse dabbed her brow with the towel and smoothed the bedclothes over Margie’s chest.

  ‘There we are. You have a rest, and I’ll bring you a cuppa in a moment. Milk and sugar?’

  Margie’s eyes followed the nurse as she went over to a desk. She was talking to the young man, the nice one who’d been here before. They were looking over at her. Fear settled heavily in Margie’s gut, and she coughed. She shouldn’t have told them her name. She shouldn’t have told them any names.

  But it didn’t matter.

  They wouldn’t find Bridie, would they? Bridie would stay at home where she was safe, and she’d look after the kits, too. She was a good girl, Bridie. And Tabitha. Oh, she wanted her girls. Margie jerked bolt upright in bed, and a beep came from somewhere overhead as her chest tightened. Both nurses rushed over.

  ‘Nice and easy, my love. I’m Steve, I was here last night, remember?’ He muttered to the nurse on the other side of the bed. ‘Give Davie a call, would you? And see if you can track down her son, now we have a surname too.’

  The Irish nurse made a face. ‘Long shot.’

  ‘It’s the best shot we’ve got.’ He bent over Margie. ‘Tell us your first name, love. It would make things easier.’

  Oh, no, it wouldn’t.

  Chapter 40

  Liane pressed her foot on the vacuum cleaner control, and the cable whirred back in. Monday morning, ten fifteen, housework, box ticked. The weather wasn’t being cooperative, though – those clouds were getting ever darker. A rainy-day programme might be the best thing. A visit to the Art Gallery after lunch? Frithy loved the dinosaur skeletons and stuffed animals there. Or the transport museum? She would let her daughter choose. Liane stuffed the vacuum back into the hall cupboard and went through to the kitchen. Coffee time.

  The garden was silent, so the girls were either lurking in Frithy’s den in the jungle, or at Bridie’s. Liane glared at the empty patio and back lawn. It didn’t feel comfortable, not being able to see her child, but she’d have to get used to letting go a little. And after yesterday’s lecture and TV ban, Miss Frith would come the moment she was called today, you could bet on that. Liane jabbed buttons on the machine and breathed in deeply as the coffee-aroma wafted across the kitchen. Should she take little packets of Smarties out to Frith and Bridie? She pulled a face. Admit it, Liane, that’s nothing but an excuse to make sure Frithy was still alive and breathing. And an afternoon out was enough of a treat for her bad daughter today, anyway. She would pop down the garden and have a listen, though. Just to make sure.

  The jungle was devoid of little girls, and Frith’s den was empty. Liane stood at the fence. Nothing was moving on the other side, and no ghostly giggles from unseen children were echoing around Bridie’s jungle. Gawd. Okay, she was being a thoroughly neurotic mother, but so what?

  ‘Frithy! You there?’

  Silence.

  ‘Frith! Come here a second, please!’

  Silence. And stillness. The hairs on the back of Liane’s neck stood to attention.

  ‘Frith! Answer me, please. I’m counting to ten!’

  Nothing. Liane swung round and ran back to the house. It was possible, yes, it was distinctly possible that Frith had come back in while she’d been vacuuming. It was a chilly day, and if Bridie wasn’t out to play there wouldn’t be much to keep Frith outside either.

  ‘Frith!’ Her yell rang through the house; even old Mr Jenkins next door, who was almost stone deaf, must have heard that. Deep silence was coming from upstairs, but Liane went up anyway and found two empty bedrooms and a deserted loo. Okay. Don’t panic. It wasn’t a particularly good day out – the girls must have gone into Bridie’s house to play. Frithy’d told her they might go into Bridie’s garden, hadn’t she, so she might not feel she needed to report back because they were going into the house.

  Margie’s garden was silent as Liane pushed through the gap in the fence and picked her way through the jungle and across the grass on her neighbour’s side, seeds from dandelion clocks floating free as she brushed against them. Marmaduke the orange cat was lying on the kitchen window ledge, and three others were sprawled by the door.

  A voice came from the left. ‘Mrs, ah, Morton, isn’t it?’

  It was Margie’s posh neighbour. Heck, what was her name again? McGarry, that was it. The woman was standing at the fence clut
ching a large cardboard box, outrage all over her face. Liane swerved over to the fence. Not the moment to point out she was Ms – or Miss – Morton.

  Mrs McGarry thrust the box towards Liane. ‘Look! This is the last straw. This creature has made the most almighty mess in my shed.’

  ‘Oh! Tabitha – and her kittens! I guess.’ Liane gaped at the cat, who was glaring back at her as only a cat could. A wonder she’d stayed in the box to be lugged around like this, but the three tiny kittens – one still wet – would be the reason for that. What a horror this woman was, moving the animal at this time.

  Liane didn’t stop the chilly tone from entering her voice. ‘I thought cats were pretty clean about giving birth? You should have left her where she was. Margie could have collected them later. I’ll take them inside.’ She grasped the box, and Mrs McG let go like a shot.

  The other woman sniffed. ‘Mrs Donohoe’s – granddaughter, I suppose she is, was running round to the front gate not half an hour ago. You should be more careful who you let your daughter play with.’ She about-turned and strode back to her shed, presumably to start deep cleaning it.

  Liane murmured soothingly to Tabitha, who was still wearing a scandalised expression, and glided as smoothly as she could to the back door. By the time she got there, four other cats were milling around her feet.

  Liane knocked softly, in case a loud thump disturbed poor Tabitha even more than she was already. No answer. Bummer. The niggle of fear was back. Liane tried the door – hallelujah, it wasn’t locked. She pushed it open.

  ‘Anyone home?’ Liane stepped inside with the box and stood still.

  Oh. My. Gosh. The kitchen smelled of cats and to say it was uncared for was the understatement of the century. The floor was filthy, with bowls dotted around, presumably for the cats, and the amount of stuff piled across the work surfaces was incredible. The place looked as if Margie had spent the last month taking things out of cupboards and not putting them back. Empty boxes of cat food were lying around among dirty, empty tins of various things. Bowls, cutlery and cups were spread all over the place, used ones mingling with clean. Liane’s shoulders slumped. Her poor neighbour – was all this because Margie wasn’t well? Guilt stabbed Liane – she should have checked on the woman again.