Dear Mother: A gripping and emotional story that will make you sob your heart out

by Angela Marsons

  ‘Jay, please,’ she called across the bar, struggling to make herself heard. At first he refused to turn around but Marcus, a friend to them both, nudged Jay and pointed in her direction. He moved towards her end of the bar, his face hard. She stood and shouted in his ear. ‘I’m sorry, Jay. I’ve only just remembered but I’m really sorry.’

  ‘For calling me an old worn-out queer or a fucking failure?’

  ‘Both,’ she cried, battling to make herself heard above the noise. She could see from the hurt on his face that her insults had affected him deeply. She felt sick to her stomach and it had nothing to do with her hangover.

  ‘You know that I’m a total bitch when I get like that and I didn’t mean a word I said,’ she offered, sincerely.

  ‘I didn’t know you had so many friends that you could afford to discard one quite so easily.’

  ‘I don’t,’ she said, honestly. Jay was the only person she cared about in the world and the thought of losing him brought tears to her eyes.

  Jay surveyed her for a second, chewing his lip. He reached across the bar. ‘Come here you silly old dyke.’

  Alex accepted the embrace, relieved that she hadn’t damaged their friendship irreparably.

  He released her and pointed a wagging finger in her direction. ‘And no more fucking benders, eh?’

  Despite the humour in his words she could see the seriousness in his eyes.

  She nodded. ‘No more benders.’

  He turned and poured her a Coke. ‘Here, this one’s on the house.’

  ‘Fuck off, I’m not turning into Mary Poppins.’

  He laughed and added a measure of brandy.

  ‘The wagon will still be there tomorrow,’ she said, slugging the drink down in one go.

  ‘Promise?’ Jay asked, real concern shaping his eyes.

  She nodded and meant it.

  ‘Mike was in here yesterday.’

  ‘Oh shit,’ she said, lighting a cigarette.

  ‘I told him you’d contracted that summer flu and you’d probably be back at the weekend.’

  Alex felt a rush of love and gratitude. Despite her treatment of him he had still saved her bacon. Thanks to him she still had a job.

  Jay headed for the other end of the bar, which was becoming congested.

  Alex sipped her second drink more leisurely than the first, savouring the warm sensation as it travelled the journey from her throat into her stomach. Already the comfort blanket was cloaking itself around her. The memories unearthed by the funeral were travelling further away into a long black tunnel.

  She didn’t want to remember how Beth had gained that scar. She didn’t want to relive other painful events from all those years ago. She didn’t want to consider the repercussions of Beth’s repressed memories, but most of all she didn’t want to remember how close the three of them had once been.

  She was surprised at the speed of the effect the alcohol was having on her system. Only two drinks and her head was feeling pleasantly woozy. She supposed it was like a top-up effect as the previous binge of alcohol was still in her system. Fantastic, she decided, pleased that less effort and money was required to restore her to her very own plateau of contentment.

  The third drink slid down easily and within seconds she was jigging on the stool in time to the music. Her arms waved madly in the air. The deep thudding sound of the trance mix worked its way up the stool and into her brain until all she could feel and hear was the incessant pounding of the beat.

  She felt a tap on her shoulder and turned to find Jay appraising her with concern. She smiled widely at all three of him and mouthed ‘Tomorrow’ at the top of her voice to show him that she had not forgotten her promise. The word sounded amusing on her lips.

  ‘Tomorrow, tomorrow, the sun’ll come out tomorrow,’ she sang to Jay, but he wasn’t listening. He had the phone to his ear. She spluttered with laughter. Who the hell would try and make a phone call with all this noise?

  ‘If that’s the Samaritans for me, tell ’em I’ll call at my normal time,’ she shouted across the bar before dissolving into fits of laughter. She signalled to Marcus to fix her another drink. He looked doubtful but shrugged and put another one before her.

  ‘Thank you very much, thank you very much, that’s the nicest thing that anyone’s ever done for me,’ she sang to his retreating back.

  She responded to the voice in her head that urged her to down it in one go. The alcohol travelled straight to her eyesight and the whole dance floor tipped on its own axis. She turned her head sideways so that it was straight again. The motion prompted the telltale rush of bile into her mouth.

  Oh shit, she thought cheerfully, as she weaved in and out of the crowd on her way to the toilets. She pushed past the waiting queue and collapsed beside the toilet. She kicked the door shut behind her and threw up. She watched as the diluted black liquid of the Coke filled the toilet bowl. Angry knocks sounded on the cubicle door and between heaves she politely told the party poopers to go fuck themselves.

  The acid in her throat had brought salty tears to her eyes and her whole body began to tremble with cold and weakness. She reached for the toilet paper to stem the mucus dribbling from her nose but found the holder empty.

  She felt another rush of nausea and threw up again, barely aware of the cubicle door caving in behind her.

  Alex felt a presence beside her.

  ‘Come on, I think it’s about time I got you home,’ said a soft voice that she recognised. A gentle hand rubbed her back. She turned and looked into the sweet face of an angel.

  ‘Hello Nikki, what the fuck are you doing here?’

  Alex was barely aware of the journey. Her head fell against the window and rattled against it every time the car hit a pothole or stopped at lights. The mist in her mind was clearing and it annoyed her. It meant she had to think, explain, justify, when all she really wanted to do was exchange one form of anaesthetic for another by moving straight from being pissed to falling asleep.

  She stared out of the window, seeing in the reflection of the glass the concerned glances occasionally cast by Nikki.

  The car stopped in front of the flat they had shared until six months ago and which had been Nikki’s before that and was Nikki’s again now. Alex was surprised at the stab of nostalgia she felt on seeing the converted Victorian house.

  ‘Come on, sweet, let’s get you inside,’ Nikki said, helping her out of the passenger-side door. Alex’s natural instinct was to push aside the assistance and get out of the car by herself. Nikki stood to the side as Alex swayed and almost collapsed in the gutter.

  Nikki took her arm forcefully. ‘No arguments,’ she said.

  Alex allowed herself to be assisted up the stairs to the front door of the first-floor flat. Nikki managed to support her and open the front door at the same time. It occurred to Alex that the flat had barely changed since she’d left. And, she realised, from when she’d moved in as well. She saw just how little impact she’d had on the place either by moving into it or moving out.

  It seemed to have grown since she’d seen it last or maybe it was just in her head. She had quickly acclimatised to a studio flat where everything except going to the toilet was done in one room. She remembered now what it was like to move from room to room to perform different functions.

  ‘How are you feeling?’ Nikki asked, as she eased Alex on to the sofa.

  ‘Like my stomach just got ripped through my throat.’

  ‘I’ll make some black coffee.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘To sober you up.’

  ‘Don’t bother,’ Alex instructed, allowing her head to loll back against the fabric of the sofa. ‘It’s a myth. Black coffee does nothing. I’ll have some water.’

  Nikki nodded and headed for the kitchen.

  ‘And throw a double measure of whisky in with it,’ she called, but Nikki ignored her. If she knew Nikki, any alcohol in the place would have been tipped away before she left to come and get her. Damn Jay, she though
t angrily. Why did he have to be so damned interfering? If she’d been left alone she would have thrown up some more and then started drinking again. It was a vicious cycle and she loved it.

  ‘When was the last time you ate?’ Nikki asked, placing the water on the coffee table that separated the two sofas. The one she was sitting on now had always been hers. At times they had shared and cuddled up on both, but when they had been doing separate things this sofa had been hers. She could almost feel the outline that her body had sculpted in the fabric during their two years together.

  ‘I can’t think about food,’ Alex groaned as her stomach began to roll.

  ‘I bet it’s been a while since you gave it a thought at all. How long was this one?’

  Alex shrugged. ‘A couple of days.’

  ‘That’s not what Jay said.’

  ‘Then why fucking ask?’ Alex exploded. If Jay had already filled her in why was she getting the third degree?

  ‘Because I wanted to see if you’d lie. And you did. Why?’

  ‘I d… don’t know,’ Alex said, beginning to dither. The heat inside the car had been close and suffocating but now her body began to react.

  Nikki went to the bedroom and returned with a patchwork quilt that she had made from scraps of material. Alex had always loved that quilt because despite being a mismatch of fabric there was an order, a theme to it, that was so Nikki.

  Alex had always called it ‘Nikki’s Worry Quilt’. She had only worked on it when she had things on her mind that she needed to think through. Nikki draped it over her and pulled it up around her shoulders so that no skin was exposed.

  ‘Jay said that your mother died,’ Nikki said, as she turned up the heating.

  Alex shrugged. ‘So?’

  ‘Is that all you have to say about it?’

  ‘What do you want me to say?’

  Nikki sighed and smiled sadly. ‘You still won’t let me in, will you?’

  ‘We’ve been through this,’ Alex said, reaching for her cigarettes.

  ‘But that’s the point, Alex. We never really went through anything, did we?’

  Alex drew on the cigarette, hating the fact that Nikki finished almost every sentence with a question. ‘You were the one who made an issue of it.’

  ‘Because we weren’t communicating. You didn’t trust me enough to confide in me. The only thing you ever said was that it was rough.’

  ‘I didn’t ask you to tell me everything about your childhood,’ Alex said. She could almost recite the lines word for word.

  ‘Because there was nothing to tell, but I would have told you everything. You wouldn’t even say if you had brothers or sisters. We were together for two years and I didn’t even know that much about you.’

  ‘It wasn’t important.’

  ‘It was to me.’

  ‘Why?’ Alex asked, meeting her gaze for the first time. She was shocked at the love and concern she found staring back at her. She looked away.

  ‘Because I loved you,’ she said quietly.

  Alex noticed the use of the past tense and an inexplicable wave of panic coursed through her, but what could she expect? It had been six months since they split. Nikki had carried on with her life and Alex accepted that she was no longer the centre of it. She also knew that it had been her choice.

  ‘And I loved you,’ Alex said, quietly. For some reason it was important to her that Nikki knew that.

  ‘As much as you could.’

  ‘Don’t demean what I felt for you,’ Alex raged. It was something Nikki had said to her on the day of their final argument. The one where they had both said things that they couldn’t unsay. Things that no amount of apologising would ever erase.

  ‘It’s true, Alex, whether you like it or not. There are things that you need to work through and until you do you will be unable to give yourself properly to anyone.’

  ‘Glad to see the eight-week psychology course paid off,’ Alex said, nastily. She didn’t like the fact that Nikki felt that in some way she was unable to love properly. That she was incomplete, somehow. That she was damaged.

  ‘I don’t need my psychology degree to see that. Anyone who’s ever spent more than ten minutes with you would agree.’ Nikki held her hands up to Alex’s protestations. ‘What I’m trying to say is that I’m flattered. I’m flattered that it was with me you tried your hardest.’

  Alex snorted derisively. Why couldn’t Nikki accept that it just hadn’t worked out? They’d had some good times but ultimately they were just not meant to be together. It happened to couples all the time. Why did she have to apply some deep and meaningful reason to the fact that they had just separated?

  ‘I’ll be back in a minute,’ Nikki said, heading off to the kitchen.

  Alex finished her cigarette and took a long drink of the water. Her head was beginning to clear more every minute and she didn’t like it at all. A wave of irritation rolled over her at Nikki’s attitude towards her. Even when they’d been together Alex had despaired at Nikki’s constant equilibrium.

  She remembered the night they’d met in Jay’s club. One glance at the woman with the golden hair had stopped her in her tracks. Nikki wasn’t the sort of girl that Alex usually went for. She was far too feminine and girly. Hell, the woman even wore make-up.

  She’d been dancing with a casual acquaintance with whom she’d hoped the night would end but the crowd had parted to reveal a tall, slim woman standing at the bar drinking a pint of lager. Alex had been struck by how out of place the drink had looked. The woman should have been holding the stem of a wine glass or sipping a daiquiri. Corny as it was, their eyes had met and both the music and Alex’s partner had disappeared. The woman had stared back at her, a silent challenge in her eyes, but Alex had refused the battle.

  As her senses returned to her, Alex realised the woman was probably part of a hen party frequenting the gay bars for the good music and a bit of a laugh. Disgusted at the thought, Alex had headed for the other end of the bar and tried to push the memory of those piercing green eyes away.

  ‘You gonna ask me to dance or what?’ the woman asked, sidling up beside her.

  Surprised at the advance, Alex made a decision that she didn’t know would change her life. She accepted the invitation and decided to give this straight girl a night to remember for trying to make a fool of her in front of her straight, girly friends. She guided Nikki on to the dance floor and held her in a close embrace.

  Her hands caressed Nikki’s back as her pelvis ground against Nikki’s. Alex had been surprised to feel hardened nipples against her chest, so she had turned up the heat. Her hands wandered down to the small of Nikki’s back and lower. She didn’t grab or clutch at Nikki’s buttocks but made slow, tantalising movements over the curve that led down to her leg, before bringing her hands round to rest on her hips.

  Alex forced Nikki’s head up so that their eyes met. She was expecting to find fear and uncertainty as the girl realised that the game had gone too far. What she did see stunned her. Nikki’s eyes were filled with desire and longing. They danced some more and Alex knew that Nikki was hers. It was something she could feel in the movement of their bodies together. But Alex didn’t want a quick shag with this woman. It felt wrong and she knew it. Five minutes later Alex excused herself and went home. She’d briefly considered trying to find her previous partner but she didn’t want hamburger. She wanted steak, but she wanted it cooked properly.

  A month later Alex had moved her belongings into Nikki’s flat.

  ‘Here, try and eat some of this,’ Nikki said, placing a dish on her legs. Alex could smell the overpowering aroma of chicken soup.

  She turned her head away. ‘I can’t, honestly.’

  ‘Alex, for once trust me. Your body is reacting so badly to the alcohol because you’ve eaten nothing for days.’

  ‘But I feel—’

  ‘Now you’re whining and sounding like a child,’ Nikki said, smiling. ‘Just try a little bit and then I’ll stop nagging.’


  Alex lifted the spoon to her mouth. It was worth it just for that. The soup was thick and creamy, strewn with pieces of chicken. The first mouthful travelled down her throat and plummeted to her stomach with a resounding thud. Alex tried to push it away but Nikki was quick to push it back. ‘Try some more. It’s just your body reacting to food after having none for a while.’

  Alex swallowed another mouthful, enjoying the taste on her tongue but hating the uncomfortable feeling of it falling into the oblivion of her empty stomach. Mouthful by mouthful the sensation lessened until the last spoonful seemed to work its way through her intestines properly.

  ‘That was delicious,’ Alex admitted. ‘Did you make it yourself?’

  ‘Yeah, me and Campbell’s,’ Nikki chuckled, reaching for the dish. She went to the kitchen and returned with the bowl refilled.

  Alex groaned good-naturedly, but now her system had been woken she felt ravenous. She reached for the half of French loaf and dipped it into the soup so that it was sodden and yellow.

  ‘Sorry to see that your appetite is still suffering,’ Nikki said, taking the empty dish from her.

  Alex chuckled and lit a cigarette. Nikki had always been able to make her laugh. She had a dry, acerbic wit that often matched her own. Some of their bantering sessions had lasted for hours, reducing them both to childish fits of laughter that had made them cry.

  Nikki disappeared to the kitchen once again and returned with two mugs of steaming hot chocolate.

  ‘Can you make it?’ Nikki asked, with a smile.

  Alex tried to stand and found that although a little wobbly she could make it to the balcony. Nikki followed with the mugs of hot chocolate and the blanket. The reclining patio chairs stood as she remembered them. Facing outwards towards the view of two rows of rooftops, yet the chairs were turned in towards each other slightly. Alex sat in the one that had been hers. Nikki draped the blanket around her and handed her a mug of hot chocolate.

  Nikki sat and they remained in silence as they had done hundreds of times before. It had been part of their nightly ritual to come on to the balcony with either a whisky and lemonade or hot chocolate, as dictated by the weather.