by Sarah Till
Lynus smiled.
“Go on.”
I paused for breath.
“I’m the one who deserves sympathy. No one understands what I’ve gone through, how alone I’ve felt at times. Even with Ellis here, I still felt alone. They abandoned me, all because Steve seduced them into a series of frauds and they became hooked on the money. Never done a day’s work in their lives, any of them. Totally brainwashed by their father.”
I folded my arms and hissed. Lynus leaned back.
“Seduced by their father, like you were seduced by your father. You saw it done to your own children yet you didn’t see it happening to you. For all your protests that you are the opposite of your mother, you are exactly like her. That sense of loneliness you refer to, don’t you think she felt like that, day after day, knowing your father was with another woman? So, she went to the nearest available lonesome soul, who just happened to be your husband. And what were you doing, Virginia? You were focussed on your father’s illness, his side of the full-scale war between him and your mother. His loneliness. Four members of a family, all strangers. But united by one fact – what’s good for the goose. You criminalised your husband’s behaviour whilst your father was doing the same. And as for your mother, well...”
“What? What about her? As we are speaking frankly, if she was so squeaky clean and misunderstood, why was she such a tart? Why was she always chasing any available male? Always coifed to perfection just in case. Even the bloody vicar fancied her. She would have slept with anyone.”
Lynus shook his head.
“Yeah. I guess so. But again, if you look further than your inherited nose, missy, you’ll see that she was very insecure. Flitting from man to man, confusing love and sex. All she wanted was a hug. Someone to bring her a cup of tea in bed. But she got a host of men interested in her body and her property. Then the pièce de résistance. The very people she tried to eliminate from her life came back years later and took advantage of her. So, to sum up, she was oppressed by your father, used by your husband and then killed by your brother. Do you still hate her now?”
I frowned.
“What about me? She treated me badly. She banished me from her life. When I found out what had happened, she just shut me out.”
“Perhaps she was ashamed. Have you considered that? Was Sally a desperate woman, clutching at straws? Was she like a butterfly, flitting from one person to another, looking desperately for love but finding only sex and greed? Then, when she was exposed, what did she do? She ran away and hid. Flitted again into a world where again she mistook the attention of a man for love. Moulded herself around a vaguely religious notion of redemption, propagated by her young, virile husband and supported by her long-standing friend, the vicar. Was she afraid of you, Virginia, afraid that she didn’t fit the ‘mother’ mould that you hold so dear?”
I stood up.
“How dare you? I’ve thought long and hard about what this mother role is. My children pushed me into a corner, one where I had to sit and think about just what that role entailed for me. Their expectation was too high, and I couldn’t perform.”
Everything I said made Lynus’ eyebrows raise ever higher on his brow. My concerns for my own role and the clarification of Sally’s dilemma now crashed together in the car wreck of my psyche.
“Whatever you say, Virginia, it doesn’t change the fact that there are always two sides to every story.”
I stopped in my tracks.
“So, you’re saying that actually she wasn’t a bitch but she was in pain and suffering? Someone who was insecure and searching all her life for love, but constantly being used?”
Lynus nodded.
“That’s one point of view. As I said earlier. Poor Sally.”
I laughed again.
“Poor Sally? How can you describe her as poor? She had enough money to keep her comfortable, the farm had its ups and downs but it’s a going concern and gave her an income. The cottage was paid for by my dad’s insurance. I can see that she might not have had the perfect life now, but she certainly wasn’t poor.”
Lynus shook his head.
“Jinny. I know you’re better than this. I know that you have depth of understanding for your fellow man, that you are capable of looking at how other people’s problems arise. So, why do you have such a blind spot about your mother. Sure, Sally was financially comfortable. Rich, some might say. But she lived in spiritual poverty. She hadn’t figured out that the feeling of romantic love isn't the be all and end all. That rush of sexual desire fed her longing for love, am I right? And when that wilted, she moved on to the next person. A dangerous game to play with your soul. But so common. She was so busy competing with your father that they never developed a real relationship, where they were truly together. How could they? He wasn’t exclusive to her, and she was involved in a competition where the best woman wins. Half the time fighting for him, half the time alone. Except for you. You represented her best bargaining tool. Of course she loved you, but she was forced to use you to get her man.”
I could feel a warm sensation rushing through my shoulders. My nose hurt and my cheeks were on fire.
“So, she was lonely? And she abandoned me because she was ashamed? And she believed John Baxter was her salvation, her way to be forgiven? So, she didn’t really hate me at all?”
Lynus put his hand on my bruised leg.
“Hate is a strong word, Virginia. Hate, anger, love, all from the same line, all feelings, all bullshit. At the end of the day, we can fool ourselves that we feel something. We are the kings of our own minds, and we can conjure up anything we want to. Or in your case, nothing.”
The words swam around my consciousness: my mother loved me. I mulled over the flaws, all the things that had irritated me, all the things I had lined up under the ‘bad mother’ banner and watched them drain away as weaknesses and humanity. The poor, proud woman had based her whole existence on validating herself on her worth to men. It was only when she glimpsed a sliver of reality, when she realised how her actions had hurt people, that she had withdrawn to start a new life. John Baxter had seen the weakness clearly and exploited her vanity. He had courted and married her, in the meantime bending her to his particular form of cruelty and making her silently punish herself for her former ‘sins’.
Who had perpetrated the sins in the first place? The very religious fervour that she bowed down to and worshiped was the author of the rules of engagement in her war. Her adherence to the marriage vows, her inability to let my father go to the woman he loved, set her in a tar pit of battle.
My vision became blurred and my chest heavy. I felt a sense of desperation in my soul and hugged myself tightly. My eyes burned and eventually I opened them wide. A small tear trickled down my cheek. It made a wet line down my neck as it soaked into the collar of my blouse. Now the track was forged, another larger globule leaked. My other eye followed and released a double blob of saline, which trickled quickly into the corner of my mouth. I licked my lips and tasted my absence of emotions disappear. Finally, a sob erupted from the pit of my stomach and rose in my chest. I felt a release that years of doubt and worry had robbed me of, a sensation that flooded my soul with warmth and desire for comfort.
Lynus reached out towards me and cradled me in his huge arms, and I felt the rough weave of his overcoat rub my wet face as I sobbed and sobbed. I needed to apologise to him. I raised myself up and looked into his face. His expression reflected my pain and I cried harder.
“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have shouted like that.”
He patted my shoulder.
“It’s OK. I’m used to it. It’s never pretty to hear the harsh truth. Sometimes I wish I could draw down a cloud from the sky and project the images onto it, so that people can see.”
I laughed and wiped my nose on my sleeve.
“How come you’re so wise? And how do you know so much about me and my mother?”
Lynus laughed.
“Just instinct, I guess. Don’t t
hink you’re the only mother and daughter ever to run into trouble! Must have an in-built switch that stops us from seeing just how vulnerable our parents can be. Huh?”
I nodded.
“Thanks, Lynus. I needed that. I haven’t cried for years.”
Lynus nodded and leant on his stick again.
“No problem. But now on to the serious stuff. I’m having a problem with this John Baxter character. He seems to be brewing some kind of hatred with all this business about extremists and obviously the fact that he killed Sally and nearly killed you. You have to be very careful, Jinny, very careful. He’s a dangerous man. I would suggest that you go away somewhere for a while. “
I nodded, still savouring the dampness on my face.
“Yes, yes. I’ll speak to Ellis. But I don’t know what the police intend to do. What if they don’t believe me and charge me? And what about the cottage? I need to sell it.”
Lynus laughed.
“Go to see your solicitor. First thing in the morning. Monday morning, he won’t have much to do! Tell him the whole story, make a statement of your position. Ask him to find out what the police intend to do. As for the cottage, forget about it for now. Do you need the money from it? Bearing in mind the truth about your mother, she left it as an asset for you. Whatever happens, it belongs to you. John Baxter can’t change that, no matter how long he camps out there with his mother. In time, when he is fully immersed in his fantasy and thinks you have given up, you can instruct your solicitor to make the sale. Take it easy. Don’t rush!”
He laughed throatily again and I couldn’t help but join in.
“Not so bad when you put it like that. But what if the police believe him? He’s very convincing. What if he throws them off with another lie like the terror plot?”
Lynus thought for a moment, and I could see anger sweep over his countenance.
“Yes. Yes. And he probably will. Those poor people. The two who he framed on the tube. They were held for forty-eight hours and interrogated. Their lives will never be their own again now that he’s tarred them with the brush of terrorism, when in fact he’s the terrorist. He’s the one who is the fundamentalist, the man stuck in a fixed mindset with no chance of change. Blinkered. Dangerous. It’s a crying shame. Because of the way things are here, the police will believe him. He’s the epitome of normality to the police. White, British, middle-class, pious male. They’re going to have a hard time not believing him. He knows this. But if you do nothing, disengage and remove yourself, then he’ll come looking. And that’ll be his downfall. Sally must have realised, found him out. Now he knows that you are enlightened, you are dangerous to him. Get away, as soon as you can.”
I nodded. I could hear Ellis upstairs, switching on the shower.
“Thanks, Lynus. I don’t know how to thank you enough. And I hate to ask, but the job?”
Lynus rose and waved my doubts aside with a waft of his large hand, and I caught a glimpse of the white skin on his palm, a stark contrast to the leathery brown upper.
“I’ll call you. The job’s still yours. Make yourself safe and we’ll continue.”
I smiled and took his hand.
“Thanks.”
“No problem.”
He pulled away and was ready to go. He re-negotiated the hallway and I opened the door. He stepped out into the grey London day and tapped his stick on the path.
“Don’t forget, Jinny, get away. And love, hate, regret, loathing, mother, daughter, normal, the whole shebang are just labels. Just words. It’s the meaning around them that matters, and to make a meaning there has to be communication.”
I waved and shut the door, remembering that he actually couldn’t see me waving.
I reeled a little and leaned against the doorway. Somehow my soul felt lighter. The implications of my mother’s death were gradually sinking through my reasoning, making connections with all the loose ends that I had previously not understood. The puzzle was fitting together rapidly and although I was confused by Lynus and his visit, I accepted his words. His parting statement resonated somewhere inside me, like an old friend, and confirmed that my path now was in the direction of sensibility. Ellis appeared at the top of the stairs.
“Was someone just here. I could hear you talking.”
I smiled as I saw him, wrapped in just a towel.
“Yes, it was Lynus, you know, the guy I’m doing some work for.”
He descended the stairs two at a time and took my face in his hands.
“Jinny! Are you OK? Your eyes, they’re all red and...”
I choked out the words and smiled through impending tears.
“I’ve been crying!”
This simple statement was like a whirlwind of understanding between us, lifting us into a mutual perception of this major breakthrough. Ellis held my shoulders and looked over my face, as tears streamed forth.
“Oh my God! What happened? How did this happen? I thought you were lost, Jinny, I thought I’d lost you!”
I laughed weakly.
“I had a chat with Lynus and he pointed out what was on the other side of the page. The page that I hadn’t been looking at because I was too focused on my own witterings. But now I can see a bit more clearly.”
Ellis laughed loudly.
“Fuck me, what did he say?”
“Nothing really, he just made me see it all in a different light, step outside myself. Particularly about my mother and Steve.” I saw Ellis’ expression change so I hurried on. “Anyway. I think we should get away from all this. Go on holiday. Maybe Cornwall, or abroad if you like. Just away for a while.”
Ellis nodded.
“Great idea. But are you sure you’re OK with all this, Jinny? I mean, you’ve lost twenty-four hours of your life, you’ve been hurt. And you still have a lot to deal with, like the police and the cottage?”
I shook my head.
“No, no. I’m going to get Henry to deal with it. After all, that’s what he’s paid for. I’ll go and see him in the morning. I can find out then what the police are going to do. He can deal with the lot of it. I just want to tell him my story, in fact, I’m going to write it down in a minute to save time. A sort of position paper. And then we’ll book the holiday.”
“OK. Great. If you’re sure.”
I laughed now and the tears stopped. Ellis wiped away the new dampness with his towel and stood naked before me.
“Yes, I’m sure.”
I knew that he wanted to make love, but the fact that he didn’t broach the subject now confirmed his care and love for me. I remembered Lynus’ words about love. About romantic love and the development of something more. Something that I’d caught a glimpse of, the elusive conquering of desire with empathy for another. I hugged him close and he stroked my hair.
“I’ll switch the laptop on if you make the tea. I’ll soon have this done!”
I had the statement done in a couple of hours while Ellis pottered around, hoovering up and bringing me tea. I felt strangely buoyant and tapped the keys like I was composing a piano concerto. Ellis occasionally hugged me. When I had finished, we brought the laptop over to the sofa. By now it was early evening, and after lasagne, served by Ellis with a salad, we settled to choose a holiday destination. It was like old times, the early part of our relationship, where we had looked at each other more often and touched a lot more frequently. I liked the way his arm played around my shoulder and how he twirled my hair around his fingers. I typed and he pointed. Soon we had a shortlist of ten hotels. Ellis laughed.
“Why don’t we just get in the car and drive? We can drive and drive and when we see a nice hotel, stop. Book in for one night, like two lovers who are on a tryst, then move on the next day to the next destination.”
The idea fired me up.
“Yes. We can book in under false names like Susan Duval and Peter Prince and wear fifties-style clothes! We could kiss long and hard in front of the hotel receptionists, like we did when we went on our first dirty weekend!”
“Oh, Jinny! I was starting to think all was lost!”
I looked at him now.
“Were you?”
He became serious.
“Yes. You were totally preoccupied with getting your own back on your family. Obviously, I hardly know them, but it seemed that you were hell-bent on beating them at all costs.”
I feigned a giggle.
“Always the competitor.”
The mood was lost. We packed up the laptop and stashed the list ready for tomorrow afternoon, when we would embark on our trip.
The rest of the evening we spent curled up silently on the sofa watching back-to-back movies. Eventually, we helped each other stagger up to bed around midnight.
I was awake well before the sun rose. Although exhausted and still groggy from the drugs, I had recovered my mental abilities enough to figure out that in my current state I couldn’t walk to the solicitor’s office. Ellis had to go to work early if he was to close up his office for two weeks while we went on holiday. There was no easy bus route, so that meant that I would have to take the tube. I knew in the back of my mind that I would have to return to this routine in order to go back to work – if indeed I still had a job - but I didn’t realise that it would be so soon. My legs still felt a little wobbly and my bruises were the three-day deep purple of old body blows. I simply had to see Henry. If I didn’t get to see him that morning we would have to call the trip off. I couldn’t bear to see Ellis’ disappointed face if I went back on my word. I hadn’t realised how close our relationship was to crumbling, but his words last night had served as a warning. I couldn’t let him go. My worrying was halted by the shrill ringing of my mobile phone. The word ‘Ted’ flashed on the screen as I reached over Ellis to retrieve it.
“Hello?”
The line was crackly and I strained to hear.
“Hello, Jinny. It’s Ted Brierly. Just ringing to see how you are.”
I gulped. ‘See how you are' in Ted speak equated to ‘See what time you will be in’. I decided to cut to the chase.
