Love That Lasts Forever

by Pat Barrow

  Sure enough when we got back to the house after a bit of chatting with Dad, Carol broached the subject. “Hetty feels very confused about her mum,” she said. “I think it would help if she met with Mum, but that I was with her so that she could work out how she feels now.”

  “Right.” Dad looked surprised. Well dumbstruck really, but then he turned and that winning smile of his flashed across his face as he said, “Yes, of course, if that’s what she’d like.” But there was always a ‘but’ so that he could reiterate his concerns about Mum. “But I am worried you know. Every time her mum’s appeared, it’s brought on these awful nightmares and upset and it takes ages to get her sorted out and settled down again. I don’t want that blowing up.”

  “Don’t worry, Mr Taylor. Hetty and I have a plan that if it’s all too much for her, she will just give a secret sign and we’ll be gone within seconds. And I will be visiting Mrs Taylor prior to the visit to ensure that she understands that she’s not to put Hetty under any pressure. It will just be a causal laid-back meeting at a venue for you and Hetty to choose.” Dad had no response, Carol had everything covered. A flicker of annoyance crossed his smiling face.

  We planned for the visit to take place the following Saturday afternoon. On Friday, I was in bits. I couldn’t think straight, I was bad tempered, bit everybody’s head off. On Friday night, I tossed and turned and just couldn’t sleep. When I did, I woke up screaming with Dad stroking my forehead. “It’s okay my little one, if it’s too much for you we’ll just ring Carol and tell her you can’t go.”

  “I want to, I want to, let me this time, Dad.” I don’t think Dad really understood what I meant, I couldn’t put it into words. A bit of what Carol had said to me about people changing, about me not remembering accurately that sort of stuck in my head and I just wondered. Maybe Mum was different; I wanted to see.

  Our meeting was to be in the café in the park in Shrewsbury. I don’t know why I’d chosen that, but I guess it was the openness and perhaps memories of happy times playing on the play equipment with Mum joining in was significant. Carol came to collect me. I spent ages getting ready. Dad got impatient and kept shouting up the stairs, “Aren’t you ready yet?!” Eventually, I willed my feet to walk down the stairs. I felt sick. I looked at Dad’s face. I wanted him to tell me that it was all right, all right to see my mum. But he wouldn’t look at me, not really look at me. He had a big smile on his face, but somehow it didn’t feel real. He just said, “Have a good time, my dear.” I could tell that he didn’t want me to know that he really didn’t want me to want my mum but I knew the truth. I recognised that look of disappointment in his face – I’d let him down, but no – I couldn’t think that – I pushed those thoughts away.

  Carol held my arm and off we went to the park. My feet just seemed like they were lumps of lead. They didn’t want to walk but Carol was so cheerful, so smiley and encouraging that I followed her through the café door. Mum was sitting at the table with her big smile on her face. I had to hold back the tears and the urge to run and fling myself into those arms, those arms which had wrapped around me so many times in the past. I held back, somehow, ‘cos there sitting on my shoulder was Dad and his persuasive voice was nagging in my ear. ’Careful my dear, just be careful, don’t trust her, don’t trust her, she’s not real, she’s not real’.

  “Do you want a milkshake?” said Mum. “A flapjack as well?” And I nodded and breathed a sigh of relief, as Mum walked towards the counter. I was panic-stricken, but Carol just smiled and put her arm on mine.

  “It’s okay, don’t worry.” And somehow when Mum sat back down with the tray of goodies, the tension between us just melted away. I found myself just chatting to her and telling her about school and my friends and Christmas and what we’d been doing. It just all came spilling out. I didn’t mention Dad or Aunty Nicky, and Mum didn’t ask me about them. She was just really, really interested in me, wanted to know all about me and I forgot to ask her about her. The meeting came to an end and I knew I wanted to see Mum again but I didn’t know how to say it. Carol saved the situation by saying, “Let’s not make any plans today. It will give me a chance to have a chat with Hetty and work out what’s best for her.” Mum was fine with that, just fine. We’d been holding hands as I talked to her, and it just seemed quite natural to put my arms around her and give her a kiss before I left. I saw the tears running down her cheeks, she quickly wiped them away and a big smile lit up her face. It was her winning smile that I took home with me and could still see as I fell asleep that night.

  As we walked back across the park, Carol seemed to sense my need for silence. I remember that she came in with me and surprisingly, Dad wasn’t there. Aunty Nicky had a friend around. Carol and I arranged a meeting and then she went. I felt exhausted as I battled with my whirring emotions. The euphoria and how fantastic it had been to see my mum, her lovely smiley face and soft gentle hands was at war with the drumming in my head constantly reminding me of how she had been or rather how Dad had said she was. He’d always insisted she was a threat to my safety and to Jonty’s. He wouldn’t say that if it wasn’t true, my little voice insisted. Perhaps my memory was playing tricks and I’d forgotten how weird and scary she’d been.

  I didn’t know what to believe. Dad was firmly back on my shoulder, the repetitive parrot, oh so persuasive. ‘I thought it was me you loved. Don’t trust her, she’s not what she seems, you’ll get hurt’ it screamed in my ear. His warnings were reinforced when he came home. He put his arms around me and twirled me around. Jonty and I were soon laughing as he tickled us. He pretended to be a hairy monster chasing us around the kitchen. Funny Dad, safe Dad. Nevertheless when I went to bed that night, it was my mum’s smile which illuminated my thoughts. Her tender arms wrapped around me as I fell asleep. Dad just didn’t mention Mum and my visit or the fact that Jonty had seen her either.

  Chapter 8

  I felt a buzz of excitement mixed with a sense of relief to see Carol later in the week. She picked me up from school and we went to McDonald’s again. It was so easy to explain how I felt, the words tumbled out and as always, she listened carefully and then, “I wonder if meeting up with your mum has helped you to remember some of the good times and the special things about her?” We talked about nobody being all-bad; that most people had attributes that we weren’t keen on however much we liked them and then she asked what would make me feel more comfortable about seeing Mum. I knew straightaway that I wasn’t ready to go to our old home, I wanted to go out to places, for Mum and me to have good times together and for Jonty to come too, not always, but some of the time. “Carol, surely Dad knows that I will have a good time with Mum and he won’t mind?” She asked me what Dad would need to know to support me. “I guess he needs to know that I feel that I’m safe. I guess he’s likely to prefer us to go to places rather than to be at home.” I panicked, would I ever tell Dad that I felt good with Mum, that I’d changed my mind, I wasn’t scared of her and she didn’t upset me. Carol and I worked out a strategy. She would support me and together we would tell Dad. She knew that Jonty felt the same but she would help him on a separate occasion. She felt that it was important that just as we each established our own individual relationship with Mum so we needed to make that clear to Dad.

  I was excited when we went back home but quickly deflated by Dad’s total lack of enthusiasm. He didn’t seem particularly pleased to see Carol. She gave him one of her winning smiles making it very difficult for him to be anything other than friendly. Between us, Carol and I explained that I wanted to see Mum regularly for a few hours at a time each week going out to places. His response surprised me. “Oh, you want to give her a second chance? That’s what’s so remarkable about you, Hetty, you always put everybody else first. The trouble is that you can get hurt doing that in this tough world. I can’t say I’m happy about it, but if it’s what you want, we’ll give it a try.”

  I fought back the tears. I wanted Dad to be happy for me. He stood there with his ar
ms folded across his chest; he didn’t seem like my dad any more. I started to panic; perhaps I’d made a mistake. Perhaps like Carol had said, I didn’t know everything and perhaps it really wasn’t safe. Carol saw my panicked look and stepped in explaining to Dad, “I’m not going to be there all the time but I’m going to pop in unannounced when the children are with Mum. I’ll talk to Hetty and to Jonty in between the visits to ensure that things are okay for them. Don’t worry Mr Taylor, if anything is untoward, I’ll make sure you know but Hetty and Jonty need a chance to re-establish their relationships with their mum and they need your support. Surely, you can do that for them.”

  Put like that what could he say but. “Of course, but well, I know her in a way you don’t, Carol. She’s a masterclass in deception and I don’t want Hetty and Jonty hurt. I’ll pull the plug if I need to.” Carol smiled.

  “Don’t worry Mr Taylor, Jonty and Hetty will be quite safe.” And as she was leaving, she said, “Some children find it easier when their Mum and Dad don’t get on having two separate boxes; when you are with Dad, have him out of his box and shut him away when you see your mum and put her back in her box when you go back again. Have a think about it; it does help sometimes.”

  I agreed that it sounded like a good idea but there wasn’t much chance of it actually happening. Dad seemed to take every opportunity during the next week to check that meeting up with Mum was really what I wanted and it wasn’t just Carol persuading me, convincing me of something that I wasn’t really sure about. “I know how you like being with her but can you trust her? She’s a good actress – your mum – it’s all designed to win you over.” He was so convincing and just threw me into a state of confusion.

  Chapter 9

  The Saturday when I was to see Mum again loomed and on Friday night, I couldn’t sleep. I tossed and turned and Dad came in and stroked my head. “There, there my angel, I’ll ring Carol and tell her it’s just too much for you.”

  “No.” I panicked, I didn’t want that. “Let me go with Jonty and see how it is.”

  “Oh my dear, I don’t want you to have all this upset. She’s not worth it – you’ve got me. I’ve lost my little girl, I want her back.”

  “It’s all right, Dad. We’re going ten pin bowling and then for something to eat. There will be lots of people about; she can’t get angry with me.”

  “Be careful,” sighed Dad. “I don’t want her to upset you. You know what she’s like; she’ll just fly off the handle if you do anything she doesn’t like.” But the funny thing was that I actually couldn’t recall Mum ever doing that with us – it was when she and Dad were arguing that sometimes she’d scared us when she got so angry and upset.

  At breakfast time, Jonty and I fell out and between us ended up knocking the milk over. “If this is what going to see your mother does, you won’t be going that’s for sure.” Dad was really cross. It took me ages to get ready. I didn’t know what to wear and then I had butterflies in my tummy. I just wanted Dad to put his arms around me and tell me that it was all right, but he didn’t come anywhere near me.

  I shouted at Jonty because of this ridiculous toy dog that he had started to carry everywhere. “You’re not a baby, you can’t take that bowling, you stupid child!” I yelled at him. Jonty promptly burst into tears and was comforted by Aunty Nicky.

  “Come on, Hetty, there’s no need for that.”

  “What do you mean, why me? Why is it always my fault?!” I shouted, as I flung my bag across the hall. Aunty Nicky looked horrified; it was so unlike me. “Sorry,” I muttered. Aunty Nicky gave me a quick hug. Then Carol was knocking at the door, and it was time to go. There was still no sign of Dad, where was my dad? Why wasn’t he saying goodbye to me?

  Bowling with Mum was fun. Carol simply dropped us off and disappeared. She came back to pick us up three hours later. Mum was relaxed and attentive and just my lovely mum. She made Jonty and I both feel so special and so wanted. I knew I had made the right decision. Yes, of course I wanted to see my mum.

  When we got back, I burst through the door ready to tell Dad how good it had been. “Whoa, there!” He swept us both off our feet together. “My word, it’s great to have you two back, it’s been so quiet.” I wanted to tell him about Mum, about bowling but somehow it just didn’t happen. Dad and Aunty Nicky never mentioned her.

  And that became the pattern. Jonty and I would go off every other Saturday and spend a few hours with Mum and when we came back, we would pick up our lives with Dad and Aunty Nicky again. He never saw us off, never told me to have a good time and in the preceding week, he would always ask me on several occasions if it was what I really wanted. He constantly reminded me that I could always back out, I could just say the word and he’d sort it.

  It was a while later after Carol had talked to Jonty and me about seeing Mum and we’d said we’d like the visits to be for longer that there was a subtle change in Dad’s demeanour. As he kissed me goodnight, he wasted no time in reminding me. “She’s been on her best behaviour, just seeing you for short visits but remember all those times when she snapped and lost it and how scared you were. Once Carol’s not around, that’s what’s going to happen again, she can’t help herself. You won’t feel safe then. If you start going back home to see her, it won’t be the same as when you’ve been bowling and swimming and out for meals and walks. She’ll be up to her old tricks again. She’ll be drinking. You know what happens to her then, how nasty she gets, how scared you were and all that yelling. Think on, Hetty, it’s not what you really want.” Then Dad would cuddle me and hold me and tell me how safe I was with him and how he’d always look after me. I was his princess and he’d win me over again.

  In spite of that, Carol must have talked to Dad and to Mum because arrangements were made for Jonty and me to spend longer with Mum and to go back to our old house for lunch on those days. It was five months since we’d seen our old home and we were both looking forward to rooting around our old stuff in our bedrooms. Mum had delivered all our really important things to Dad long, long before but there were bits and pieces still at home that we’d almost forgotten. I knew that Carol had spent ages talking to Mum and Dad and then she explained to us that she wouldn’t be taking us to meet Mum on Saturday morning but when it was time for us to come home, she’d be there to pick us up.

  A sense of panic overwhelmed me at the thought of Mum and Dad meeting. This couldn’t happen. They’d start shouting and it would be horrible again. But in her calm, gentle way, Carol encouraged me to think of what would need to happen to make me feel more comfortable, what would Mum and Dad have to do, so I wouldn’t be so scared that it would just blow up between them. That was the thing about Carol, she never expected me to make decisions and she listened oh so carefully to what I said, what worried me, my hopes and my expectations. I know now she used a solution focussed approach to make sure I felt included and felt part of deciding whatever arrangements were then put in place but without the responsibility for how other people felt. Somehow, she always seemed to know how I would feel and she encouraged me to identify what I needed to happen to take away all those panicky feelings. It didn’t matter that she was old, well as old as Mum and Dad at any rate. I just trusted her, I trusted her like a friend, a friend who would never let me down. My panic about Mum and Dad meeting gradually subsided. I felt reassured by Carol’s assurance that she would talk to Mum and Dad and stress to them the need for them not to argue or to discuss anything in front of me and Jonty but just to say ‘hello’ and ‘goodbye’ to each other. It couldn’t be much simpler – well, that’s what I wanted to believe.

  Chapter 10

  A few days before that first Saturday, I felt quite excited when at breakfast Dad said, “There’s a really good film on at the cinema on Saturday and we could all go.” Then he added with that beaming smile of his, “Oh gosh, I forgot of course you’re meeting your mother. Well never mind, I expect we’ll get another chance.” His smile vanished and a look of disappointment crossed his fa
ce so in spite of fighting it hard, I just couldn’t get rid of those guilty feelings nagging away at me. ‘He’s the one that saved you, he’s the special one, she’ll let you down, don’t trust Mum, don’t trust Mum’. They went on and on burning away in my head but I didn’t say anything, I just got snappy with everybody instead. Then on Saturday morning, Jonty and I were ready ages before we were due to set off. It was only a ten-minute walk to the supermarket where we were meeting Mum. Aunty Nicky seemed to have disappeared.

  “Dad,” I whined, “can’t we go now? I don’t want to be late.”

  His snappy response surprised me. “There’s plenty of time, stop fretting.” Then when we did set off, he insisted on going to the newsagents to get himself a paper. It was three minutes after ten when we actually arrived at the car park. I anxiously scanned it for Mum’s car, as we walked across towards the entrance of the store. I saw Mum in the distance and tugged eagerly at Dad’s arm. “She’s there, she’s there!” Jonty started jumping around excitedly.