The Girl in the Corner

by Amanda Prowse

  ‘Red for me.’ Arturo called out.

  ‘I’ll take white.’ Mitzy followed her husband into the lounge.

  Rae placed her in-laws’ coats on top of those already in the spare bedroom and walked back to the bathroom. She filled the kettle but instead of racing back down the stairs, she rested her head on the cold mirror and closed her eyes for a second.

  Just breathe, Rae-Valentine . . . just breathe . . .

  ‘Here they are! Hello, baby girl!’ she heard Dolly shout, followed by the squeals of greetings and welcomes and the unmistakable sound of her daughter’s voice.

  Hannah was home on this important evening and there Rae was, hiding in the bathroom.

  She walked slowly down the stairs and stared at the throng of people all clustered in the hallway. Hannah was surrounded by both sets of grandparents, her brother, Ruby, Howard, Dolly, Vinnie – they were crowding her, kissing her cheek and squeezing her to them, all so happy for her. There were mere seconds before Rae was seen. And in these seconds of undiscovery she was happy to be the girl in the corner, standing in the background, peeking out over her family, who from this angle looked like a mass of outstretched arms and smiling mouths. She briefly pictured the many-tentacled octopus, sitting cooped up in its orange bucket before making its break for freedom, remembering that loud, unfiltered laugh that had left her mouth.

  She stared particularly at the pretty girl with the shiny, mahogany-coloured hair scraped into a ballerina bun and the dark-rimmed glasses framing her big, brown eyes. A petite, stylish girl who looked briefly at Hannah as Dolly crushed her to her bosom. It was only a second, no more than a glance, but it was a look that made Rae’s heart flex. It was a powerful look – that of a person seeking reassurance, knowing that no matter what, the person they were seeking out had the power to make everything okay. It was a look she recognised as one she had given to Howard on more occasions than she was able to recount. The sadness that punched a hole in her chest was quite unexpected. It was a stark realisation that this was how two people very much in love behaved, something that had been missing between her and her husband for quite a while.

  ‘Mum! There you are!’ Hannah spotted her and called, breaking free from the crowd. She climbed the step and came to rest in her mother’s arms.

  ‘Welcome home, darling. I’ve missed you.’ Rae ran her eyes over her daughter’s beautiful face, newly lit from within.

  ‘I’ve missed you too.’ Hannah looked up at her. ‘Come and meet Niamh.’

  Rae let her daughter take her by the hand and drag her down the hallway, where the noise was growing along with the air of excitement.

  ‘Niamh, this is my mum.’

  ‘Hello, darling. Welcome!’

  ‘Hi. I’ve heard so much about you and I am so, so sorry about your kitchen.’ The girl placed her hand over her heart.

  Rae saw the blush of mortification on her face and appreciated that it was important enough to be the first thing she said.

  ‘Please don’t worry about it; come and see what we have done.’ She walked along the hall and looked into the dining room as she passed, just in time to see Mitzy and Arturo digging into the trays of food like they hadn’t eaten for a week. Rae led Niamh into the kitchen with Hannah following. ‘I only partly wanted to show you the kitchen, all prepped for the new one, to show you we are way ahead of schedule. But mainly, I wanted to get you away from the crowd!’

  ‘I don’t mind. I come from a tiny family and this feels like Christmas! It’s exciting!’

  Rae smiled at her, wary of bursting her bubble with her own deflated view on life as a Latimer. ‘It is exciting sometimes, but most of the time it’s just exhausting.’

  ‘What the hell? Are you kidding me right now?’ Hannah stared at the walls, where only a week or so ago cupboards had stood. ‘Really? The whole kitchen gone? Because of one lousy pizza?’

  ‘Did you see it, Hannah? Did you smell it?’ Rae asked with her hands on her hips.

  ‘I did, actually, but I kind of thought it might just all come good with a bit of a scrub. Who told you it needed to be gutted? Is it someone ripping you off? Did Dad check it out?’

  Rae felt the stir of a headache as Hannah started with the tone that usually led to a rant.

  Niamh walked forward and placed her hand on Hannah’s arm. She spoke softly. ‘Hannah, you need to calm down. You need to not think the worst of everyone. I’ve told you, when you get wound up like this it affects everyone around you. It sends out ripples. This is a family party, remember?’

  Rae gaped at the girl who was so easily able to voice the words she had shied away from for longer than she could remember.

  ‘You’re right.’ Hannah took a deep breath. ‘Sorry, Mum. I guess I just feel bad. I didn’t realise how badly damaged it was.’

  Rae found herself a little lost for words.

  Dolly came bustling in. ‘So, I have two questions.’

  ‘Fire away!’ Hannah smiled.

  ‘Ooh, bad choice of phrase.’ Niamh squirmed.

  ‘So . . .’ Dolly began.

  Rae watched Hannah briefly raise her eyebrows at Niamh, suggesting she might have pre-warned her about her rather forward Aunt Dolly.

  ‘First, how did you two meet?’

  ‘At a hockey social at uni. We both play, but for different teams,’ Niamh clarified.

  ‘Ah, lovely! Was it eyes meeting across a crowded room, that kind of thing?’ Dolly probed, as she popped the last of a slice of cured ham in to her mouth.

  ‘Not really. I was horribly drunk and being sick outside and Niamh came out and held my hair back for me. And that was it.’

  ‘And who says romance is dead?’ Dolly offered soberly.

  ‘What was the second question?’ Hannah seemed to ready herself.

  ‘What kind of pizza was it?’

  ‘Ham and pineapple.’ Niamh tutted.

  Rae laughed as her mum came into the kitchen, walking slowly and looking around for something to hold on to in this bare space.

  Hannah took her arm. ‘You can lean on me, Nan.’

  Her mum patted Hannah’s hand. ‘You’re a lovely girl – and Rae, darling, you did mention a cup of tea? And Mitzy and Arturo need some wine.’

  Rae gazed at the woman who had told her she had potential, the woman who believed she could have worked behind a desk and yet who apparently still saw her as the bloody waitress!

  ‘Yes, well, I tell you what, Mum, I’ll stop chatting to Niamh, shall I, and jump straight to it?’

  Maureen ignored her and clung to Hannah’s arm.

  ‘I think we all need wine.’ Hannah looked at Niamh before her eyes danced over her mother’s face with a smile of something that looked a lot like pride. She seemed to like this new sassy side to her mum.

  Hannah walked out with her Nan to go in search of plonk and Dolly agreed to make the tea.

  ‘I can’t tell you how bad I feel about your kitchen, Rae. Honestly, I feel terrible,’ Niamh confided.

  Rae liked the ease with which Niamh could chat to her, and was thankful she’d ignored her outburst. ‘It doesn’t matter, not really, not in the scheme of things.’ She sighed. ‘What matters is that you and Hannah weren’t hurt. We can replace kitchen cupboards . . .’

  ‘Thank you, Rae. And if you need a hand choosing a new kitchen, I’m studying architecture and design and I’d love to come with you.’

  ‘Oh, wonderful, that sounds like a date.’ Rae looked at the girl. ‘I mean, not a date, but an event, a get-together, a trip.’

  ‘It’s okay, Rae, I knew what you meant.’

  It was gone midnight before everyone finally left. Hannah and Niamh, George and Ruby had all called it a night and were tucked up on the floor below, and Rae fell into bed exhausted but happy. It was nice to know that her family was sleeping under one roof; it gave her a sense of peace that was missing at other times, particularly since Howard’s revelation. Again she pictured the train at the platform and wondered how far it had now t
ravelled without her. She rubbed in her hand cream and recapped the lovely evening in her mind. With or without a kitchen, it had been a success. She laughed, picturing how Mitzy and Arturo had bagged up the leftover food and popped it into Mitzy’s handbag for tomorrow. She wasn’t sure how well cold salami, cheese and strawberry tarts would travel wrapped only in cling film, especially with Arturo’s driving.

  Howard walked slowly into the room.

  ‘Well, that was a great evening.’ He breathed what sounded like a sigh of relief, as if the more family events they managed to get under their belts, the closer they might creep back to normality – almost the exact opposite of how she felt. She wished it were that simple, his version where everything just clunked neatly back into place. Happiness restored.

  ‘It was. I really like Niamh. I think she’s good for Hannah; she can keep her in check as well as making her happy.’

  ‘Good job someone can, Rae.’

  ‘Yes. Your mum and dad make me laugh. They were bickering as ever.’

  ‘They drive me crazy.’ Howard unbuttoned his shirt.

  ‘I think your parents are supposed to drive you crazy,’ she surmised.

  ‘Maybe. Do you think our kids talk about us like that?’

  ‘Oh, undoubtedly. Right now at least one couple is under a duvet laughing at my choice of T-shirt and the other is discussing the way I got a little overwhelmed when I suggested I take Niamh on a date.’

  ‘You did?’

  ‘Not intentionally.’ She smiled ironically.

  Howard stood at the foot of the bed and spoke softly. ‘I feel awkward, after our talk earlier. You are right; I did just assume that I could come back to our bed and climb in next to you. It’s always been that way, for so much of our lives. And I am cringing to think that you watched me do that, wishing I was somewhere else. It feels horrible.’

  ‘Well, I don’t want to make you feel horrible.’ She didn’t. ‘And it’s not so much that I wished you were somewhere else; it’s more about your assumption that you could just dive in. It’s how everyone treats me, Howard: good old Rae, she just takes it.’

  ‘So . . .’ He paused, his expression one of confusion. ‘Do you want me to go and sleep in the spare room? Because I can . . .’ He pointed towards the door.

  ‘No.’ She looked out the window, wondering how he could still be missing the point. It was obviously her fault; maybe she needed to be more direct – but not tonight, when tiredness rendered them both fragile. That and the fact that the kids were only a few feet below them.

  ‘Because you want to present a united front to the kids?’ He eased off his shoes and slowly unbuttoned his trousers.

  ‘I would have to admit that that’s partly true, but also, Howard, because not only am I too tired, but banning you from the bedroom and having that row now feels like shutting the stable door after the horse has bolted. We should have had the discussion before that first night back home, but we didn’t. Just like we should have spoken about tensions, issues, unhappiness, sex and everything else before the Karina incident, but we didn’t. And I accept that that is down to me too, running around like a blind mouse, scampering to get things done and not looking up. So I am not blaming you solely; it’s just how it is, how it evolved.’ She yawned. ‘So just come to bed. It’s late. I’m tired and I don’t want to start overthinking.’ She was sleepy and knew that if the discussion deepened, she’d soon be wide awake and chasing the hands of the clock around until the early hours. She needed to think about her future, properly think, but now was not the time. Tomorrow she’d go for a long walk and try to give order to the muddle of her thoughts.

  Howard sat down on the bed. ‘Every time you say her name it makes me feel physically sick.’

  Karina! Karina! Karina! It echoed in her head. ‘What a coincidence, because every time I think about that name, it makes me feel physically sick too,’ she responded sharply.

  ‘How often do you think about it?’ he asked quietly.

  ‘Less than I used to: only about five hundred times a day. And when something reminds me, like the young waitresses sauntering into my home this evening.’ She ran her hand over the pouch of her stomach.

  He pulled back the duvet. ‘I want to hold you, Rae. I want to hold you and tell you everything is going to be okay.’

  She lay back on the pillows and faced the window. ‘One step at a time, Howard. One step at a time.’

  THIRTEEN

  Dolly called first thing. It used to be their routine, this catch-up chat each morning, but since returning from Antigua the regularity had slipped a little. It was an example of how things had altered between them.

  ‘Now that was a good evening! I love Niamh, she’s great!’

  ‘She is.’

  ‘And George and Ruby seem happy. Looks like you have cracked it, mate. When was the last time you didn’t have to worry about one of them?’

  ‘Quite a while ago, actually.’ Rae thought about the sleepless nights fretting and praying for their happiness.

  ‘I know – maybe you swanning off to the Caribbean is the answer! So with that in mind, let’s just book a flight and go back to the sunshine. I have seen the family, work is good, Vinnie’s happy, laundry all done and I am so over this cold weather! Come on, Rae, let’s go back to the land of sea and cocktails . . .’

  ‘I wish. I daren’t go away again – I’m not sure what room they might burn down next. It’s hard enough without the kitchen; I couldn’t cope if we lost the sitting room and bathroom as well.’

  And I’m not sure I want to go on holiday with you, Dolly. Can’t you feel the shift in the nature of us? Can’t you see that things have changed, no matter how hard we try to pretend they haven’t?

  ‘Good point. So what are you doing for breakfast without a stove? Poor kids will have to go without bacon and eggs!’

  ‘I know, right! “Deprived” is the word you are looking for. Well, luckily they are fully grown adults and able to forage on the High Street for themselves.’

  Dolly chuckled loudly. ‘That’s made me laugh! As if you would ever send your babies out to forage for their own breakfast! You have ruined them!’

  ‘God, you are right.’ It’s because it’s what I do: I look after everyone. It’s my purpose, it validates my place – or at least it used to . . . ‘I am, as we speak, slipping on my trainers and heading out for croissants and pastries: no cooking and no mess. Easy.’

  ‘I was chatting to your mum outside the house while they waited for the cab. She was making me laugh, telling me what she was cooking for lunch today. I swear they are all getting worse, Rae! There’s your mum taking food planning to a whole other level. And my mum and dad arguing, constantly rowing about anything and everything and they seem to enjoy it more if they can involve the whole room. It made me think about our chat in Antigua, about turning into them.’

  ‘Oh God, Dolly, talk of the devil. I’ll have to call you back – that’s my mum on the other line.’

  ‘Ciao, ciao! Speak later.’

  ‘Hello, Mum? I was just talking about you – were your ears burning?’

  ‘No, Rae. Sorry, love. It’s not Mum . . . it’s me.’ Her father’s hesitant tone and croaky voice sent a bolt of alarm right through her.

  ‘Hey, Dad, everything okay?’ But she could tell by the way he spoke and the fact that he never called this early in the day that everything was not.

  ‘Rae, I need you to come home. I . . . I need you to . . .’

  ‘It’s okay, Dad, just take your time. Sit down and take a breath. Is Mum okay? What’s happened? What do you need?’

  ‘I have just called the ambulance,’ he gasped sharply. ‘It’s not good, Rae.’ His tears came then. ‘She’s . . . I can’t wake her up . . .’

  ‘Oh, Dad!’ She struggled to get the words out. ‘I will be there as soon as I can. Don’t worry. I will be there as soon as I can.’ Her thoughts raced to finding car keys, waking Howard and getting to her mum’s side as soon as possible .
. .

  ‘I . . . I don’t know what to do, Rae.’ He sounded afraid and it killed her.

  ‘Just hang in there, Dad. Go and get Mrs Dwight from next door and if you have to leave the house, to go to the hospital or whatever, then just go and I promise I will find you. I am coming now, Dad, just hang on. Are you sure the ambulance is on its way?’

  ‘Yes. I’ve left the front door open for them like they told me to.’

  ‘Okay, Dad, take deep breaths and take your time. I’ll be there as soon as I can.’

  She ended the call and walked on wobbly legs to the bottom of the stairs. ‘Howard!’ she shouted loudly up the stairs. ‘Howard! Please!’

  ‘God, Mum! Keep it down!’ came the shout from George, and she heard the door of Hannah’s room slam shut. Her children’s reaction to her calling out left her a little cold. She tried to imagine hearing them shout and not going running.

  Her husband came to the landing, tying his dressing gown. ‘What’s going on?’ he asked, his hair sticking up, his eyes still puffy from sleep.

  ‘My . . . my mum. She’s not well; Dad’s called an ambulance. He can’t wake her up,’ she managed. Suddenly light-headed, she gripped the newel post with both hands so she wouldn’t fall.

  ‘Did you call your sister?’ Howard looked across at her in the car. It seemed they had caught every single red light en route. Now, at a pedestrian crossing, Rae’s stomach twisted with tension as a woman with a pushchair and a toddler took an age to amble across the road. She chewed her thumbnail.

  ‘Dad did. I called Mrs Dwight and she was already round at Mum and Dad’s. I said we’d meet them at North Middlesex Hospital.’

  ‘Did your dad say what had happened?’

  ‘No, he was in shock, I could tell, and he was upset. He sounded awful. I thought I should just reassure him and get there without keeping him on the phone.’

  ‘Of course. Did he say if she’d had a fall or—’

  ‘He said nothing, Howard!’ she snapped, because she literally had no more information and was as frustrated by her inability to answer his questions as he was. She took a calming breath. ‘I’m sorry, I shouldn’t shout at you. I just want to get there! Dad said nothing other than he couldn’t wake her up. Oh God!’