‘That’s the shock. It’s OK. We’re both OK. I’d better ring the guards. Do you need an ambulance? Are you hurt? What on earth will Mrs Oaks say when she sees the state of her garden?’
Greta felt herself sway again at her mother’s words. ‘If the guards come, they will want to know if I’m under the influence.’
Shock flashed across Emily’s face.
‘Have you been drinking?’ Emily whispered.
‘No.’
‘Oh, thank goodness.’
‘But I did take a sleeping pill on the flight.’
Now anger flashed across Emily’s face. ‘You stupid, stupid girl. How could you be so reckless?’
Greta couldn’t look her in the eye. She hung her head low, ‘I’m sorry, Mam. I’m so sorry.’
Emily ignored her, reaching into the car until she found her phone on the floor.
‘What happened? I heard screams,’ Amanda asked, when she rang her back.
‘We crashed the car. But we are both fine. I just wanted to tell you that. But I’ve got to go now. I need to get hold of Stephen.’
His phone went to voicemail, so she left a message, then rang Ray who thankfully was at home and could come over straight away.
‘Mam …’ Greta reached over to touch her mother’s arm. All she wanted was to feel her mam’s embrace, telling her that it would be OK, everything would be fine.
‘Don’t!’ Emily took a step back from her.
Greta blanched at the intensity of Emily’s reaction.
‘Just don’t. I’ll deal with you in a bit. For now, we need to clear your mess up.’
When Ray arrived, the first thing he noticed was that Emily and Greta were standing three feet apart. His sister-in-law had a trickle of red blood staining her white face. His niece was pale, shaking, with her two arms wrapped around her chest, as if she were giving herself a hug. Ray had a feeling that whatever pain was afflicting his niece, it was the kind that you couldn’t see with the naked eye.
‘What happened?’ He walked around the car, surveying the damage.
‘I was driving. I swerved to miss a cat and lost control of the car,’ Emily said.
Ray watched the look that passed between his sister-in-law and his niece. Something didn’t add up here. ‘What am I missing here?’
Emily held eye contact with her brother-in-law and a silent communication passed between the two. The kind that only family who had shared history for decades could understand. They were the keeper of each other’s secrets. He looked around to see if there were any twitching curtains. The road was deserted, with the neighbourhood all at work. A good guess was that if anyone had seen the accident they would be out here already, rubbernecking. That was the way with most folk.
‘Is Mrs Oaks in?’ Ray asked.
Emily shook her head. She wouldn’t get home from work until after six at the earliest.
Ray squeezed into the driver’s seat, pushing the deflated airbag away from him. The smell of smoke and powder tickled his nose, making his throat feel scratchy. He switched the engine on and was surprised to hear it turn over. He reversed it out slowly, then moved it into its rightful place, next door. He’d call a tow truck, later on, to take it away. He figured it was a write-off. Mrs Oaks’s garage wall was unmarked, with not even a scratch on it. But there was considerable damage to the lawn and the flowerbeds. Ray felt his stomach flip as he contemplated how much worse this could be. If anything had happened to Emily or Greta … He saw Emily wipe another trickle of blood away and he took hold of her arm and led her towards the house. ‘Let’s go inside and have a cup of tea. I want to take a look at that cut.’
‘I’d better ring Mrs Oaks to tell her what’s happened,’ Emily said.
Greta couldn’t take her eyes off the squashed flowers. Muddy brown tyre marks ripped through the green lawn, telling tales of the reckless, stupid, unforgivable thing she’d done. She’d put her mother’s life at risk. Her own, she didn’t care about.
The weather was in sync with how she felt, because all at once it began to lash rain, the clouds grey and thunderous above them. She felt movement at her feet; when she looked down, the scrappy black dog was sitting beside her again. His coat was drenched, showing how thin and bedraggled he was. Poor little mite. His eyes met hers, and Greta recognized something of herself in him again.
‘Inside,’ Emily shouted, her voice shrill. ‘Now!’
Greta followed her indoors, looking back one last time at the dog. And the fear that had been snaking its way around her body since she’d arrived at Dublin airport made its way to her neck and started to tighten, strangling her. She wasn’t sure she was ever going to be able to untangle herself from its grasp ever again.
Chapter 4
Greta was aware of whispered conversations being held in the kitchen. When she went downstairs, Uncle Ray had already left and her parents were sitting side by side.
‘Sit down.’ Emily’s voice made her jump. The tone was firm, and one that Greta knew well. It was the one Emily used throughout their childhood when she had reached her limit. It said enough was enough.
‘I want you to get all of your tablets and bring them down to us,’ Emily said.
Greta had not expected this and felt panic creeping its way through her body. Only a few weeks previously, Emily had voiced concerns about her over-reliance on taking tablets to help her sleep. Greta had been ‘sleep walking’, doing strange things, while under their influence. This was pure nonsense. She’d told her mam that, who was prone to drama at the best of times. But she’d also promised her she’d only take a tablet in an emergency. That, of course, was a lie.
‘It’s time to knock them on the head,’ Stephen added, firmly.
Thoughts began to race around Greta’s mind, excuses that she could make, that would get her off the hook she was dangling on so precariously. She took a deep breath, sat up straight and tried to give the performance of a lifetime. ‘Look, I’m really sorry about what happened yesterday. I will pay for the damage to the car and Mrs Oaks’s garden.’
‘That you will,’ Stephen answered.
‘And I’ll help Uncle Ray sow the new flowers,’ Greta threw in, feeling magnanimous. Everyone knew that she wasn’t the outdoorsy type, never showing any interest in their garden at home – or, in fact, any garden. Greta didn’t see the point of flowers, being more of a tree woman. She glanced at both their faces, expecting to see a softening, a sign that she was making ground with them.
But there was nothing but disappointment and anger there.
‘You know I’ve suffered from insomnia for years. The pills were prescribed by Dr Hanrahan! And I’ve been thinking about what happened. It wasn’t the pills. You see, I had the most terrible time in London. I didn’t want to tell you, to worry you, but the hotel was awful. I think there was a party going on in the room beside me. I complained several times to reception. So you see, I’d not slept a wink all night, and I thought, I’ll never manage the flight home unless I get a quick nap. I only took half a pill. Thinking about it now, I must have caught a virus on the flight. The air conditioning is notorious for doing that. The virus made me dizzy …’ She stopped talking when she saw her mother’s face.
‘Liar.’ Emily’s voice, cold and hard, sliced through the air. ‘No more excuses, I want those pills now.’ When Greta didn’t move, she continued, ‘If necessary I’ll go get them for you.’
‘You’ve not been yourself for months now. And your weight is a disgrace. Every time I look at you, you’ve got bigger. I should have said something sooner,’ Stephen chipped in. ‘But enough already.’
‘Jeez, Dad, you’d turn a girl’s head with all those compliments.’ Greta stood up and pulled her pyjamas down over her stomach and hips, feeling her father’s eyes on her. His shame and disappointment with her was a poor match for her own feelings. She grabbed a pack of tablets from her bedside locker, then walked the green mile back to the kitchen.
‘There.’ She placed them on the kitchen t
able. They were small and white, inoffensive. They were also circles of destruction.
‘Swear to us that you’ll not take any more of these,’ Emily said.
‘Do I have to swear on the Bible?’ Greta asked. For the first time in the history of that family joke, nobody laughed.
‘Say it out loud so we can hear you,’ Stephen said. ‘Swear that you will never take another sleeping tablet.’
Greta didn’t answer straight away. Because, to her horror, she realized that she didn’t want to make that promise. In fact, if she were honest, she wanted to take one of her pills so that she could go to sleep and escape from this moment.
‘I swear.’
‘Good. We’ll say no more about it,’ Emily said.
Stephen cleared his throat to say something, but Emily silenced him with a shake of her head.
‘We’ll say no more,’ Emily repeated. ‘Have something to eat. Then get dressed and go next door to help your Uncle Ray out.’
‘I’m not hungry. I’ll go straight over to Ray.’ She walked over and gave her mam a hug. ‘Don’t be worrying about me. I’m not an addict or anything. I’ll show you. I was reckless. Honestly, it won’t happen again.’
Back in her room, Greta turned to social media to help her forget the noise in her head. Though sometimes, if she were honest, seeing all the smiling, happy people she followed only increased the volume of that noise. Maybe it was because she wanted to be just like them.
There was a new post from Dr Gale, who had shared a black-and-white photo still from The Wizard of Oz. Dorothy was standing by a broken picket fence, with Toto the dog in her arms, as a tornado raced towards her.
Drgretagale There are days when I feel just like Dorothy here, about to be swept away in a tornado. We all have our ‘Dorothy’ moments, times when life rages around us, and all we can do is cling on and wait for the storm to pass. But remember this, my friends: maybe that nasty old storm will shake your cupboards and clear them out a little more …
#drgretagale #wizardofoz #dorothy #storm #inspire #inspirationalquotes #whatsinyourcupboard
Greta felt tears prick her eyes. How did Dr Gale do that? She always seemed to know what Greta was thinking. That was all she had to do. She had to cling on a little bit longer, then maybe the storm would pass.
Once Greta finished helping Uncle Ray, she retreated to her bedroom again, where she stayed for most of the day. But by four o’clock, the shock and the embarrassment of the past twenty-four hours caught up with her. Her head buzzed, while her stomach flipped. Greta put her hands over her ears and closed her eyes, but that didn’t stop the torment inside of her. Her mind refused to switch off and as her body began to shake, she felt the walls of her bedroom begin to close around her. The need to get out of the house overwhelmed her. She didn’t have a destination in mind, she just wanted to be anywhere else but here. So she ran out and made her way to the nearby Griffeen Valley Park, welcoming the soft rain that fell on her as she moved. It was only a short shower and by the time she arrived at the water’s edge at the back of the park, it had stopped. She paused to watch the ducks swim. And for a moment, she wondered what it would be like to jump in. Was it possible to swim away from her life, the mess she’d gotten herself into? Because she realized that no matter how far Greta walked away from her bedroom, the storm came with her.
She looked up to the sky which was dark and ominous, reflecting her mood. But then, the sunshine made its presence felt and a bright rainbow appeared. Could it melt her troubles away like lemon drops? Greta walked back home, watching the rainbow move further from her with every step.
‘That you, love?’ Emily called out when she heard the key in the door.
‘The one and only,’ Greta said. She took a deep breath, then plastered a smile on her face.
‘You’re looking fierce tired today, G. Peaky, in fact. Now, don’t get annoyed with me, but I read an article online earlier. And, to be honest with you, you fit the bill of an addict. To a T.’
‘Ah Mam! I’m hardly shooting up drugs on the side of the street!’
‘No, you’re not doing that,’ Emily agreed.
Please let this be the end of this discussion. The gods ignored Greta.
‘But you’ve had blackouts quite a few times. You’ve driven a car and nearly killed both of us.’ Emily blessed herself again. ‘And you look wrecked.’
‘I’ll go to bed early tonight. You won’t know me tomorrow.’
‘Well, they do say that the best eraser in the world is a good night’s sleep,’ Emily said. ‘Tell you what, I’ll run you a bath. Nothing like a nice long relaxing soak to set you up for bed. Your dad will be home soon to make his curry. By the time you come down, dinner will be ready.’
‘You know I hate baths. I don’t like to lie in my own filth.’
‘How dirty are you? Go away out of that!’ Emily said. ‘Follow me up in five minutes and I’ll have it ready for you.’
Greta watched her mam walk out of the kitchen, then sank into one of the dining-room chairs. She was so tired. Every bone in her body cried out in protest. But once her mam got a bee in her bonnet, there was no stopping her. She’d have the bath and go straight to bed, skipping her dad’s dinner. And, hopefully, her body would have no choice but to cooperate and sleep.
Her stomach flipped and fluttered as Greta’s mind spiralled. She walked over to the larder press and stood on her tippy toes to reach the good tin, which her mam had hidden behind a double pack of kitchen towels. Greta opened the lid and pulled out a treat-size bar of Crunchie. She unwrapped it and stuffed it whole in her mouth, feeling the chocolate melt on her tongue, followed by a hit of the sugary fizz of the honeycomb centre. But it wasn’t enough. So she grabbed a Cadbury’s Caramel too. But no matter how much she stuffed into her mouth, her heart continued to pound and her belly ached. The caramel bar hadn’t made life easy. The bunny was full of shit.
Chapter 5
‘I’ve put the good stuff in.’ Upstairs in the bathroom, Emily held up her Jo Malone birthday gift set to Greta. She had also put tea-light candles onto every available surface, which were few and far between in the small family bathroom. But they did look pretty as they flickered in the dusky evening, throwing shapes and shadows on the wall. There was a large glass of red wine for Greta, which sat on the ledge beside the bath. Emily was prepared to do anything to get her daughter to relax and fall asleep without the need for any tablets. How could she have let it go on for so long?
‘I think I’ll skip dinner, Mam. Once I get out of the bath I’ll just go straight to bed,’ Greta said.
‘Are you not hungry?’ Emily asked.
‘I’m trying to cut down,’ Greta said, trying not to think about the chocolate bars from the tin. There was a time when Greta and her mam had no secrets. Emily was always on her side. She used to say, ‘Us women have to stick together! Stand united against your dad and the boys!’ It had been a while since Greta had heard that or felt it either.
‘Oh love, that’s great. I think this is your time to shine, do you know that? Just try to forget about everything and relax in the bath. Have a total switch-off and let all your worries disappear. Tomorrow is another day.’
‘To mess it all up again?’ Greta joked, but it landed wrong and just made her mam frown.
‘Ah no, love.’
‘Ah yes, Mam.’
‘You don’t mean that?’ Emily asked.
‘Course I don’t. I’m joking. Now scoot. Let me get the full benefit of your Jo Malone!’
Greta slipped out of her dressing gown and hung it on the back of the door. The mirror above the sink had clouded over with steam. She ran her hand across it and revealed her naked body. Her breasts were OK, she supposed. And her waist had always been small. But her stomach protruded so much that people thought she was pregnant. In fact, one day a guy had stood up to give her his seat on the bus. She had been too embarrassed to say she wasn’t pregnant, so Greta had patted her tummy and smiled her thanks. She’d cried
herself to sleep that night.
Now, she sank into the tub and felt the sting of the too-hot water as it covered her body. This was one of the main problems she had with baths. Greta was always bored by the time the water reached optimum temperature. She preferred showers; there was less pressure to relax. The other issue with baths was that no matter which way she manoeuvred her body in the tub, parts of her white, flabby flesh were exposed through the bubbles. It wasn’t like this in the movie, where the heroine always looked so petite as she frolicked in a large bathtub. Mind you, the way her career was going right now, Greta would never have to worry about a bath scene in anything.
She looked up to the ceiling and became distracted by a crack. How long had that been there? The more she tried to relax, the more her body tensed. She should never have let her mam talk her into this. It was different when they were kids. They used to call it Splash Time. Her mam would squeeze the suds out of a yellow sponge, letting them run down Greta’s back, while she sang nursery rhymes to her. Greta blinked away tears and gulped down a mouthful of the Cabernet Sauvignon.
A fly appeared out of nowhere. There weren’t any open windows in the bathroom, yet somehow it had done a Houdini on it and was buzzing around like it owned the joint. It paused to take a rest and joined in Greta’s fascination of the ceiling above her and its new crack.
Rest. If only. Her body and mind were stretched so taut that she could feel cracks splintering through her just like the one above her. She imagined the ceiling collapsing on top of her, splashing water onto the floor. Her mam would hate that. And she loved her mam, even if she bugged the life out of her sometimes. She closed her mind to the worried frown that had been etched across Emily’s forehead as she closed the bathroom door a few minutes ago. And instead, she watched the fly, which watched the crack in the ceiling.
My Pear-Shaped Life: The most gripping and heartfelt page-turner of 2020! Page 5
