Cause And Effect

by Pete Adams

  He whispered in her ear, Meesh’s as well as she was not to be left out, ‘Flowers, Mands? I’m not ginger beer, you know.’ Meesh tutted; Dolly, it has to be. Mandy play-slapped Jack’s face and Meesh smoothed it, to make it better, giving Mandy an old-fashioned look. Definitely Dolly.

  ‘The doctor says you can come out whenever you feel like it,’ Mandy said.

  ‘Why didn’t he speak to me?’

  Mandy smiled, it was obvious, ‘He thought you couldn’t handle medical facts.’

  ‘Not that spotty kid, cheeky sod.’

  Mrs Chief tutted and Meesh saw a kindred spirit in the squaw woman, looked up, tilted her head and smiled. ‘He’s not my dad, you know, but he loves me very much.’

  ‘I’m sure he does, and who would not love you, darling,’ the squaw replied, stroking Meesh’s mousey hair that Jack had come to like.

  Mandy was talking and Jack was not listening, ‘He doesn’t have spots, and he’s a very nice young man, you could learn a lot from him.’

  ‘Amanda, I want to go,’ Jack said in his sickly voice, and Meesh pushed past Mandy, went to the bedside cupboard, and began throwing out Jack's clothes.

  ‘I'll speak to the nurse, come with me Meesh?’ The girl chucked the clothes on the bed and Jack’s jumbo pants fell on the floor; the Squaw picked them up. Jack sighed as Meesh dashed to Mandy, grabbed her hand, miraculously slowed, and casually they trotted off together. Jack felt amused, whether this was Mandy and Meesh, or the squaw holding his pants, he was not sure, bit of both probably.

  Father O’Brien, his sanctimonious head on, ‘I've mass in an hour,’ sketched a blessing, lingering over the baby Jane. A cue for squaw woman who European-kissed Jack and also left.

  Gail took the vacated seat, simultaneously suckering the baby’s mouth onto a flying saucer nipple; it was all too much. ‘Gail, what’s happening with Meesh, where are Social Services?’

  ‘Don’t fret, I often foster kids, so she’s with me, better than being carted off to a home. She’s stuck fast on you and Mandy though.’

  ‘What can I do? She’s a lovely kid, but?’

  ‘Jack, find her mother and that will solve everything.’

  ‘Yes, that’s what I’ll do,’ Jack said, ‘double whammy, as Michael says; where is Michael?’

  ‘Don’t be a plank, who d’you think brought your stuff. Alana’s been as well. She’s a lovely girl, and so is that man of hers, so cut him a bit of slack.’

  ‘Slack? She’s only twenty-five.’

  ‘Talking about Alana again?’ Mandy returned.

  Matron Meesh climbed on the bed, snuggled into Jack, who subconsciously put an arm around her. ‘Alana?’

  ‘Jack’s older daughter,’ Mandy answered because Jack was close to crying, ‘you’re going to love her, and my kids, John, he’s 20 and Elizabeth’s twenty-two.’

  ‘When can I meet them?’

  ‘Soon, darling, very soon,’ and Mandy kissed her.

  Jack felt he was losing control of his life; no change there then.

  Mandy helped Jack get dressed, turned to put his pants on. ‘Jack, stop being a wuss there’s nothing I haven’t seen before,’ Mandy said, giggling. Stone me Old-timer’s, Jack thought, struggling with a leg in the wrong pants hole. ‘Come here,’ and Mandy spun him and Jack tried to gather his bits and pieces, too late. ‘Well, halloo, Jack,’ she hooted, and he heard Gail and Meesh giggling from behind the curtain; Jack sighed his hospital sigh.

  A giggling nurse, popped her head around the curtain, ‘Need a hand?’

  ‘No, it’s not that big,’ Mandy replied. More guffaws the other side of the curtain. Mandy kissed him and whispered, ‘For Christmas,’ and patted his bum.

  ‘What do I get for Boxing Day?’

  ‘Ha, last word, nice save.’ Mandy pulled the curtain back to spontaneous applause. Jack thought it was a bit presumptuous of Mandy to be taking a bow; who was the patient?

  She put the rest of his things in a bag, suggesting his hospital pyjamas could be used as a tent by the boy scouts, and Meesh tutted and wriggled; Jack let her tiny hand into his, it felt warm, moist, and sent a shiver up his spine. ‘Now this girl knows how to treat a patient,’ he said, looking at Mandy who made like Meesh and wriggled her hand into Jack’s other hand.

  Ego restored, they walked along, the Meesh arm tugged, ‘Martin’s okay now, and Father Mike said you will let me walk him.’

  Jack thought it felt strange to have one hand swing and the other stationery. Gail was close behind, the baby whimpering having lost the space craft of sustenance; home, Jack thought, where is everyone else going?

  Jack was directed to the back seat of Mandy’s car, and Gail passed the baby Jane who immediately spewed breast milk onto his shoulder; he made a yeeeuk noise.

  ‘Tut,’ Dolly possessed Meesh.

  Mandy dropped Gail and the baby Jane home, and onto Jack’s; Mandy would drop Meesh off later to sleep at Gail’s. They pulled up behind Jack’s garage, Meesh not daring to let Jack’s hand go as they clambered out. He’d missed this feeling, a child’s trust and his consequent comfort. Through the garage into the back garden, Meesh’s eyes widened, Colleen appeared and Meesh ran to her open arms, was sucked into a house smelling of roast dinner, it reminded Jack of Sunday lunches when he was a kid; Two way family favourites on the radio and he sang, “With a song in my heart...” That was it, he didn’t know the rest of the words, so he made them up and hummed the other bits. Meesh was at his side holding his hand, humming with him, repeating the wrong words, out of sync. Jack lifted Meesh and she tucked her head under his chin, stroked his stubble, laughed, and rubbed her cheek against it. Mandy wrapped her arms around the both of them and kissed Jack. ‘Me, me,’ she kissed Meesh.

  Jack felt a stirring, was this love, for Mandy? Meesh? ‘Show Meesh around, Michael,’ Jack asked, and Colleen, Hi Ho’ing and insisting Michael be Dopey, trooped them off. Jack looked into Mandy’s hazel eyes, ‘I love you,’ and they embraced.

  ‘Jack, is that your phone?’

  ‘Can’t hear anything.’ Mandy tittered; this was getting easier, she thought, and then, I am in deep, but it felt wonderful, didn’t it?

  They spent a lovely late afternoon and early evening. Michael’s roast lamb was delicious, Meesh insisted on having the mint sauce and pickled beetroot Jack always had, and giggled when everyone else made sick noises. Jack’s East End of London family always had pickled beetroot on their Sunday roasts. He told Meesh when he was her age he would visit his Nan and Granddad in Stepney, and under one of the railway arches was a beetroot boiler. The road was always stained red, and he used to think it was blood. She absorbed the story with her eyes.

  ‘Lovely,’ Meesh said, screwing her mouth at the intense vinegary tastes of the beetroot and mint. She ate it all, blissfully happy, ‘My mum’s dead, will you be my new mum, Mandy?’

  ‘Oh my God,’ Colleen rushed to hug the child.

  Meesh slipped from Colleen and went to sit on Mandy’s lap. Mandy whispered gently, ‘How do you know your mum is dead?’

  Meesh looked less frail, not tormented; malnourished, neglected, but an underlying strength of character. She turned from Mandy to the table and declared with force, ‘Moy mum put me behind the boxes, and I saw the 'orrible man kill her with a knife.’

  Mandy pulled Meesh’s head to her breast and held her. ‘It’s alright, darling, everything will be okay, we’ll make sure of that,’ and Mandy mouthed to Jack, ‘she may recognise the killer.’

  ‘Christ’s tits.’

  ‘Tut,’ from Meesh, lifting her head momentarily.

  ‘Did I say that out loud?’

  ‘Yes,’ Meesh said.

  Meesh seemed unmoved, but Jack thought this kid will need counselling, may also be in danger if word gets around she’s seen the killer. Michael leapt into action, ‘Let’s watch Mary Poppins.’

  Jack gave his impression of the terrible Dick Van Dyke cockney accent, ‘Mary Popp-ins,’ and started jumping and bashing
his legs together, singing Step in Time, which Michael thought quite remarkable since he and Alana both knew their dad hated that bit, well, that and the penguins, but then nobody liked the penguins.

  Mandy thought there was “Trouble brewing on Cherry Tree Lane” and she whispered to Jack before he flew a kite and fed the birds, ‘We need to follow this up, but how?’

  He whispered back, ‘You know that girl, wotsername-thingybob, child psyche, Kate used to work with her, remember?’

  ‘Jackie Philips, she’s probably forty-five, not a girl but a woman, and how can you forget her name when it’s virtually the same as yours?’

  ‘Because I’ve not given her a nickname.’

  ‘You did, Lips, which she told you never to use, and then Phil, which amused you more than it did Jackie.’

  Jack was charged, ‘Oh yeah, I'll call her.’

  ‘You have her number?’ Mandy looked quizzical, whilst trying to calm and quieten him.

  ‘Kate’s old phone book,’ and Jack disappeared.

  Mandy felt a pang at the mention of Kate’s name, they’d been friends, rubbed along, and it was clear Jack worshiped the ground she walked on, but it had been nearly three years and Mandy had decided to release her feelings; maybe she should rein in?

  Back with a small black book, Jack stopped to watch Mary arriving on her umbrella, sung Jane and Michael Banks, got shushed by Meesh. ‘I’ll go into the kitchen,’ Jack oblivious, and Mandy thought, am I being unreasonable, trying to stop myself from getting hurt?

  Colleen was looking at her from the settee, stroked Meesh and Michael as she got up and went to sit opposite Mandy, ‘I do believe Jack loves you.'

  ‘Will he ever get over Kate though?’ They exchanged a look.

  ‘She’s a part of him, can you handle that?’

  ‘Hmmm,’ Mandy

  ‘Hmmm,’ Colleen; time drifted.

  ‘Oi, shout out to Dad, its Step in Time,’ and Michael got up with Meesh and started to do the dance, with Meesh giggling as if nothing had happened, the most natural thing in the world, but when will reality set in?

  ‘Like father, like son, you sure you’re okay with Michael, Colleen?’ Mandy asked.

  ‘I love him, Mandy, he can be as irritating as his dad, but for God’s sake I love him, though my dad could kick his feckin’ head in.’ Mandy laughed. Colleen shrugged her shoulders, applied an inane grin. ‘What is life for if not to make sport at our betters? But, Lizzie, you did not seem to enjoy that, are you not diverted?’

  Mandy rejoined, ‘Yes, I am exceedingly diverted.’

  ‘Brilliant PP girls, okay, Phil’s in tomorrow morning at nine-thirty,’ and Jack rubbed his hands together, Mandy and Colleen shared a moment, the investigation had killed the afternoon for her, but clearly not for Jack. ‘Blimey, have I missed Step in Time?’ and Jack feigned a disappointed grumpy face; Meesh jumped up and hugged and tugged him to come and join Michael and her on the settee, and as all parents do, he said, ‘As soon as this is finished, we need to get you to Gail’s for beddy-byes.’

  The emerald eyes looked back up at him. ‘Oh, I want to stay here.’

  ‘And who will help Gail with the baby Jane?’ Mandy to the rescue.

  ‘I forgot.’

  Along with a lot of other stuff, Jack thought, but just for now, ‘Let’s go fly a kite, skittish things, kites.’

  ‘Shush, Jack,’ Meesh said, a finger to his mouth.

  Mandy felt a jumble of emotions watching the eejits on the settee rumbling around, Jack tickling Meesh under her arms and innocently saying, “What?”

  Jack carried the sleeping Meesh to Mandy’s car. ‘Get in the back, you’ll need to hold her.’ Jack got into the back and put a seat belt over himself and slid Meesh to the side and fitted the centre belt. Mandy watched; again that pang. She drove off in what was for him a comfortable silence, but for Mandy a torture of emotions, looking occasionally in her mirror as he stroked Meesh’s hair; she felt wretched.

  Gail was waiting for them at the door, Mickey Splif behind, holding the baby. Jack woke Meesh gently, ‘We’re here, darlin’, let’s go and see the baby Jane,’ and Meesh tumbled with sleepy legs, and Jack holding her shoulders steered her into Gail's waiting arms.

  ‘Take her back, Mickey,’ tipping her head to Meesh, ‘hold baby Jane on the chair a moment, sweetie.’

  Still sleepy, ‘Hmmm, bye-bye,’ and Meesh wiggled her fingers.

  Mandy briefed Gail. ‘Poor luv, she can sleep with me tonight,’ and shouted to Mickey, ‘you’re on the settee, babes.’

  ‘Alright,’ Mickey replied, disgruntled, but accepting.

  They returned to the car, Jack belted up, but Mandy turned in her seat to look at him, ‘Don’t say a thing, we need to talk.’

  He felt the dread all men feel when a woman says, “We need to talk,” scrabbling around for thoughts. ‘If I don’t say a thing, it will be a bit one-sided, won’t it?’

  She chose to ignore this, ‘I love you.’

  He dared to interrupt, ‘I know.’

  ‘I know you know because I told you this afternoon.’ She was irritated; Jack could tell.

  ‘No, I knew before then,’ a presumptive victory?

  ‘When?’

  ‘In the hospital, you thought I was asleep,’ he relaxed, thinking the talk was over.

  ‘You’re an irritating twat, Jack Austin, but I still love you.’ Jack went to say something, she stopped him, ‘I want you, but I’m not sure you’re over Kate, and this is okay. You need to take the time it takes, I will wait. That’s what I wanted you to know.’ There was a pause and Jack was not sure if he was supposed to say something, and what danger he might be in if he did, he looked for a signal, it didn’t come, but Mandy filled the void. ‘We should go out on a few dates, maybe the pictures, and not one of those stupid Rom Coms you like. I also want you to know I will continue to beat you up in the office, I don’t want people thinking I’ve gone soft and feeling sorry for me because I love you.’

  ‘You, beat me up?’ Jack couldn’t resist.

  ‘Yes, Jack, I am continually beating you, in fact, I think this past week alone it was 532 to 2 in my favour.’ Mandy was using Jack’s persistent quips like, one nil, and sometimes ludicrously large numbers, plucked out of the air, and it was amazing how many people reacted, “It can’t be that,” and Jack would add another one onto the score and smile benignly.

  ‘I think I must have missed 531 of those, I had it at two-one to me,’ he was enjoying this now; there were warning signs, but when you’re having fun?

  ‘Jack, I’m trying to be serious.’

  ‘Serious? 532, in your dreams, babes,’ he never could get those signs.

  ‘I’ve said what I wanted,’ and Mandy started the car.

  ‘Suppose a fuck’s out of the question?’

  ‘Yes, though you were close, you sad bastard.’

  ‘Belt up.’

  ‘I beg your pardon.’

  ‘Put your seatbelt on,’ and Mandy laughed, defused again, and as she fastened her seat belt she leaned forward, and saw Gail and Meesh at the top window, peeking around the curtains. Meesh wiggled her fingers and Mandy wiggled hers back; they drove off.

  The drive back was quiet. Jack put his hand onto Mandy’s thigh, close to the knee, but the thigh nevertheless; a chancy move, but Mandy let it stay there. A few minutes later, she put her hand on top and wrapped his fingers.

  Twenty-Seven

  Jack squinted at the clock, another deep sleep, no thoughts of Mandy, Martin, Meesh or Kate. ‘Feck,’ it was ten to eight, made a dash for the bathroom and ran straight into Colleen. ‘Christ’s Tits.’

  ‘Not quite, but a fine pair of man boobs,’ Colleen was unfazed.

  Jack put fingers on his nipples. ‘Colleen, what’re you doing here?’

  Her face, poorly disguising her amusement, ‘Michael told my dad he loved me, that we had been sleeping together for a while, and he would like me to stay over. I said I loved him.’

  ‘Go
d! Do I need to take Michael to casualty?’

  ‘No,’ Colleen's face showed how happy she was.

  Michael was at the top of the stairs, ‘I’m okay, he was fine, not like you and Alana, and Dad.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘Your birthday suit?’

  ‘Shite, sorry, Colleen, was on my way for a pony and trap,’ and Jack dived into the bathroom.

  ‘Too much information, Dad,’ Michael called as he passed by, walking down the stairs.

  There was a tap on the door. ‘Yes?’ Jack answered.

  ‘Jane, if Michael is as lovely as you at sixty, I will be well pleased.’

  Jack delayed his poo while he puffed himself up, smiled to the mirror as he heard Michael say to Colleen, ‘What d’you say that for, he will continually remind you of this, like Mandy saying he sung and whistled beautifully.’

  ‘But he does sing and whistle beautifully,’ Colleen replied.

  Jack shouted from the bathroom, ‘I heard that, she has a good ear, Michael.’

  ‘Thank you very much, Colleen, you have condemned us and many others,’ and he heard Michael saying he’d better warn Mandy.

  'Tom Tit, rant and rave, and an Eiffel tower, Hampstead’s, Yabba dabber doo,’ Jack felt good. Michael shouted up the stairs he would do his muesli, ‘I’m in the canteen this morning, son,’ Jack called back, ‘I feel good, dah dah...’

  ‘Too late, Dad, I don’t want you having too many fry-ups.’

  He’s turned into Kate, Jack thought, a small pang; was that better? Looking in his wardrobe and thinking he’d better go shopping, he chose conservatively, with a small C, no way he would dress as a Tory Boy, heaven forbid; pink or mustard trousers! He looked out the window, cats and dogs, thought of that sunny day, Mandy's silhouette in front of the office window. Is she right? Am I missing Kate, still? His tummy made an involuntary turn as he counselled the face staring back at him from the mirror, ‘Do you really want to go on like this? Wasn’t it better, just a little?’