Lily Alone

by Vivien Brown

  Agnes looked at her and smiled, almost apologetically. Don’t worry, the smile said. You’re her granny. It’s you she loves, not me. She’s still confused, still uncertain about what’s happening. ‘Well, I think I should be going. Let you sort things out now, as a family.’ She tried again to stand, tried to hand Lily over to her grandmother, but the little one clung like a limpet.

  ‘No. Stay.’ Geraldine smiled back. No use blaming the woman. If Lily felt secure with her, then so be it. She had as good as rescued her, after all. ‘A few minutes more, anyway. Here, give me the number and I’ll call your son for you. We could wait for Michael to come back and use his mobile. I’ve left mine in the car. Or use the payphone outside, if you’d rather do it now?’

  ‘Yes, all right. It’s very kind of you. He’ll be wondering what’s happening, I’m sure. William. His name’s William. Munro. Well, obviously it’s Munro! But you must let me give you the money for the call.’

  ‘No, no, it’s only a few pennies. Now, you stay right there with Lily for a minute or two, at least until Michael comes back. I know he’ll want to thank you.’ She stood and stretched, ruffling Lily’s hair while she waited. ‘So, do you have the number, Agnes?’

  ‘Oh, yes, of course. Just give me a moment to think. I have it written down on a pad by the phone at home. I don’t call it enough to know it off by heart, you see. It will come to me in a minute. Oh, but he might still be at my flat, of course. That’s one number I do know!’

  That’s sad, Geraldine thought, taking both scribbled-down numbers and heading for the phone. Not being sure of her own son’s number. Another case of life, and time, and distance, coming between an ageing mother and her grown-up son … She knew that scenario only too well. Could she reel off Michael’s number without the aid of her address book? Probably not. They might have something more in common than met the eye, she and this old lady. But, of course, she was just being fanciful. She knew nothing about Agnes’s life. She might have a husband, and ten children, and hordes of grandchildren who visited every day, for all she knew.

  But somehow, watching the way she clung to Lily, and Lily clung right back, she knew she was right. Agnes was not just alone, but lonely, and the two weren’t always quite the same thing.

  *

  It was two hours later, with the Munro woman long gone and his mother hardly able to keep her eyes open, that Barbara Freeman finally gave Michael the good news. ‘You can take Lily home this evening, Mr Payne,’ she said, smiling, but the smile didn’t quite reach her eyes and he still wasn’t sure he could trust her. ‘doctor seems happy with her, and says there’s no reason to keep her overnight. I think she’s had enough separation for a while. It’s her family she needs now. Obviously we can’t stop you taking her wherever you like. You are her father, after all. But …’

  ‘But you’d rather we didn’t swan off back to Brighton?’

  ‘We will be calling a case conference, getting together to talk about Lily, within the next week or so, to decide a plan of action. It’s routine in cases like this. Of course we all want what’s best for her, and your input into that process will be very important. It would be useful to everyone if you stayed in the area.’

  ‘She’s not at any risk, you know. Not when she’s with me.’

  ‘I’m sure that’s true, but decisions are going to have to be made, to determine what risk there might be if and when she is returned to her mother’s care. I’m sure you can understand our concerns. So, can I ask, where do you expect to be staying?’

  ‘At Ruby’s flat, I suppose. Our flat. I’ve still got a set of keys. Still have my name on the lease. So, my mother and I can squeeze in there for a day or two, and then Lily can at least have some normality, sleep in her own bed …’

  ‘That’s good. How are you taking her home? You have a car here? And a properly fitted car seat, I assume?’

  ‘Car seat?’

  ‘For Lily. You do realise that, by law, she can only travel in a regulation seat?’

  ‘Well, no, I hadn’t thought …’

  ‘But you were going to take her to Brighton today?’

  ‘In the back seat. On my mother’s lap. I don’t know. I hadn’t really thought about that. I suppose I should have, shouldn’t I?’

  She looked at him sternly, then wavered a bit and forced a smile. ‘I have one with me. A car seat.’

  ‘You do?’

  ‘I could drive Lily home for you if you like. I would like to take a look at her living arrangements anyway. Kill two birds with one stone, save coming back and bothering you tomorrow.’

  ‘Well, yes. All right. You could follow me maybe? Or I’ll come with you and Lily, and Mum can drive our car home. I don’t feel I should leave her alone again. With a stranger, I mean. No offence. But I’ll have to come back here to the hospital, won’t I? Tomorrow. To see how Ruby is, maybe let Lily see her. How will I …?’

  ‘You’ll have to acquire a seat, I’m afraid. Or come on the bus.’

  He looked the woman right in the eyes, expecting some kind of defiance, and saw nothing there but compassion and a hint of tiredness. She meant well. Just doing her job.

  ‘Right,’ he said, in the calmest voice he could muster. ‘Let’s get her discharged and out of here then, shall we?’

  It was only halfway out to the car park, their three pairs of feet scrunching in unison across the ground in the encroaching gloom of another cold wet evening, that he realised. The woman had a car seat in her car. Why? Had she come here expecting to take Lily away with her? To fill in her forms, tick her little boxes, and drive her off somewhere, still alone and scared, to be with strangers? He slowed to let his mother catch up, holding Lily against his chest, pulling his coat closed around her, as he watched the woman open up the back door of her car and beckon him forward. Thank God they’d got here when they did. A day later and his daughter might have been taken away from him.

  They were almost at the front door of the flat, the two cars parked one behind the other, when he remembered Patsy. He hadn’t called her. In fact, he hadn’t given her a single thought since the moment they’d walked into this awful mess all those hours ago.

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  Ruby

  My mother has black hair. I think it’s black. Although she’s right here in the room with me, I can’t see her very clearly. She keeps turning her back, walking away from me and then, just when I think she’s gone, she comes back again, another day, with some dirty second-hand doll in her arms, or a bunch of over-ripe bananas.

  Her name is Dorothy. I know that because Mrs Castle calls her that as she pours the tea, but I just call her Mummy. She smells of cheap soap, or maybe it’s talcum powder, and too many peppermints – and booze. I don’t know if I knew that then, but I know it now. I think it’s gin. Sweet, almost like perfume; on her breath, her clothes, her skin. The soapy smell wafts alongside it but doesn’t disguise it.

  Mummy wears flat shoes with soft bendy soles. They are not always very clean, but they are always very quiet. I think that’s why I don’t hear her leave sometimes. I feel the silence, look round from playing with the doll, and she’s gone. The tea is still warm in the cup, and she’s hardly sipped it. I run to the window and climb onto a chair and I can see she’s already out of the gate, the top of her head showing over the tall hedge, bobbing up and down as she walks away, tipping back to face the sun as she swigs something from a bottle. I feel Mrs Castle’s arm behind me, steadying the chair, making sure I don’t fall. She does a lot of that. Steadying. She’s very good at it.

  ‘Shall we go and make some cakes, Ruby?’ she says. ‘Pink or white icing? You choose.’ In the kitchen, I pound the spoon around in the bowl, crushing the sugar into the marg, crash the eggs against the side, and try to get rid of the smell of her. But it’s there on the doll. When I pick her up, it’s in her dress, in her matted, nylon, second-hand hair.

  I start to cry, right into the bowl, tiny trickly raindrops landing on a bed of flour, and I mix t
hem in quickly so they disappear and I can pretend everything’s going to be all right, and wonder whether the cakes will taste of my tears.

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  ‘Where are we all going to sleep?’ Geraldine sank into Ruby’s sofa, kicked off her shoes and pushed away a mound of scattered toys with her toes. She glugged down what was left of her milkless tea, made a space on the cluttered coffee table and deposited the empty mug.

  ‘Take Ruby’s bed. I don’t mind. I can’t say I really fancy sleeping in it again, to be honest with you. I’m happy enough on the sofa. Not sure I’ll be able to sleep much anyway.’

  ‘And we need to eat, Michael. I took a peek in the fridge freezer and there’s virtually nothing. In fact, the door wasn’t properly closed, so whatever there was is probably ruined anyway. Is there anything nearby? A late-night grocery shop? A takeaway place? We need the basics. Milk, bread, juice for Lily, something for breakfast …’

  ‘don’t you think we should get Lily to bed first?’

  ‘Well, she must be hungrier than the lot of us, poor soul. The odd biscuit and a bag of crisps at the hospital, and whatever the old lady downstairs gave her, isn’t going to do the trick, is it? She needs fattening up. A treat, to take her mind off what’s been happening.’ She looked across at Lily, sitting silently on the carpet, surrounded by the big chunky pieces of a giant floor puzzle Michael had found in a cupboard, but not showing much interest in trying to fit them together. ‘You were talking about McDonalds earlier, weren’t you?’

  ‘It’s very late.’

  ‘In the circumstances, I hardly think we need to clock-watch, Michael. Can’t you just pop out in the car and fetch something back? Something with chips, milkshake, one of those boxes with a toy. It will cheer her up. I don’t know about you, but my stomach feels like my throat’s been cut. Please. Anything …’

  ‘But I can’t leave Lily. After the time she’s had, she needs me.’

  ‘She’ll be fine with me. Now that social services woman has finally gone we need to try to get things back to normal. Lily can have a bit of granny time. Maybe she can help me to clean up a bit. There’s an awful smell in her room, and a nasty stain on the carpet and I’ll have to change the beds. I couldn’t help noticing they are both a bit crumpled, and Lily’s is decidedly damp. Where did Ruby keep the spare sheets?’

  ‘don’t say it like she’s in the past tense, Mother. Airing cupboard, I suppose. And I need to call Patsy. She must be wondering where in the world we are. I need to explain what’s been going on, though I hardly know where to start, and I’ll have to tell her we won’t be back tonight.’

  ‘Or for quite a few nights, I should imagine. Whatever are we going to wear? I didn’t set out with the intention of not going back. I’ve got nothing with me. No toothbrush, no nightclothes, no spare underwear …’

  ‘Least of our problems.’

  ‘Even so, we do have to be practical.’

  ‘Try something of Ruby’s.’

  ‘Michael, you may not have noticed but we are about forty years and a good three dress sizes apart.’

  ‘The Munro woman then. Agnes. Go downstairs and ask her. She may have something, a spare nightie or a dressing gown to see you through tonight at least. Maybe she can let you borrow a pair of knickers too. I can just see you in pink flannelette, or some of those old-fashioned knee-length thermals!’ He laughed, circling his arms out wide around his hips in a poor imitation of how she might look in an old lady’s underwear. ‘Oh, don’t look so shocked. I’m kidding. I’m sure we can find a shop in the morning. For now, just keep the ones you’re wearing on. Nobody, as far as I know, has ever died of wearing their pants two days in a row. Or go commando if you have to.’

  He picked up his keys and wallet, tucked his phone into his pocket, kissed Lily on the top of the head and went off out in search of food. He’d be a while, Geraldine was sure. He’d be on the phone to that Patricia as soon as he was out of earshot, so there was plenty of time to have a good nose about.

  She started with the big cardboard box that had been waiting outside the door, more curious than Michael obviously was to find out what was inside. It was clothes, mostly men’s shirts, and a pile of hangers. She couldn’t think why they were there, and when she lifted one or two out they smelled a bit strange. Musty. She carried the box in and dropped it down in the corner of the kitchen, folded down the ironing board, brushed up a pile of biscuit crumbs into the dustpan and ran a mop around the floor. Gradually, the place started to look tidier, and smell fresher.

  In Lily’s room, the small window at the top was slightly open, bringing in a chilly breeze and, despite the whiff of old nappies that pervaded the air, she quickly banged it shut and eased the curtains across. She found a spray bottle of carpet cleaner under the sink and hastily sprayed and scrubbed at the carpet until the worst of it had been sorted, trying not to breathe in as she worked.

  The bed needed stripping, and she was pleased to find, as she pulled the sheets off, that there was a plastic covering underneath so at least the mattress had survived without staining. She found clean sheets and pillow cases piled up in the airing cupboard, and swiftly and efficiently restored the bed and the room to some kind of order, aware all the while of Lily standing behind her in the doorway, her thumb locked firmly in her mouth, watching every move she made.

  ‘Come on, Lily. Would you like to help Granny to make Mummy’s bed nice and clean now?’

  ‘Is Mummy coming home?’

  ‘Soon. Not tonight though. Remember what Daddy told you, on the way home in the car? Mummy’s a little bit poorly, and she needs to have a good long sleep to help her get better.’ She knelt down beside Lily and kissed her on the forehead. ‘So, tonight Granny will be sleeping here, in Mummy’s bed. We can have our breakfast together in the morning and then we can go to the shops. Would you like that? Just you and me.’

  Lily nodded, grabbing hold of Geraldine’s free hand as she carried yet more sheets through to the other bedroom.

  ‘Archie!’ Lily let go of her hand and ran excitedly into the room, bending down to scoop up a toy from the floor. ‘You naughty bear, where have you been?’

  So, this was the mysterious Archie! For the first time since they’d brought her home, Lily was smiling. She sat on the carpet telling Archie everything she could remember about her trip in an ambulance and her hospital stay, much of it completely made-up.

  Geraldine smiled. She just wanted to sit down on the floor with her and hug her but she knew she must be starting to smell unpleasant by now. The mingled scents of bleach, dust, damp bedding and poo had worked their way into her hands and hair. She opened the wardrobe, hoping that, if she stripped off and jumped into the bath later, there might be something she could wear afterwards. Maybe a loose robe or something but, as she’d suspected, Ruby’s few clothes were all clearly way too small. As she ran her hands through them she noticed that they only filled half the wardrobe. The rest of the space was packed with shirts. Men’s shirts, all neatly pressed and on covered hangers. Odd. If Ruby had found herself a new man, surely there would be other stuff. Evidence, dotted about the place. An extra toothbrush, a can of shaving gel, some trousers … Geraldine closed the door. Curious though she was, it wasn’t her business any more, what Ruby did, or who she saw.

  She began working on the double bed, pulling off sheets and easing the quilt from its crumpled cover. As she tossed the pillows out of the way and onto the floor, she saw what looked like a small piece of shiny card. It was wedged between the top of the mattress and the headboard, but it was only when she picked it up and turned it over that she realised what it was, and what it meant. A lump came up into Geraldine’s throat and she fought back an unexpected tear. It was an old picture of Michael.

  Despite everything, it would appear that Ruby might still have feelings for her son after all.

  *

  Laura fought her way to the crowded bar and came back with three halves of lager and a handful of crisp packets
. ‘Oh my God, what a day!’ she said, thumping down onto the long cushioned bench seat in the window.

  ‘You weren’t even at work, were you? I thought it was your day off?’ Fiona broke her way into a bag of cheese and onion, closely inspecting her pink-painted thumbnail, holding it under one of the frilly wall lamps in search of enough light, as if she feared it might have got irrevocably chipped in the process.

  ‘It was. But, Fi, you won’t believe what happened …’

  ‘That girl’s kid only went and turned up,’ Gina butted in, never one to stand on ceremony and eager to get the story told so she could get on with the serious business of getting drunk. ‘Seems Laura’s mystery girl had gone out and left her daughter by herself before inconveniently walking under a passing car.’

  ‘Gina! Don’t be so heartless. She can hardly have meant to get run over?’

  ‘I suppose not. But what a lot of fuss. The police and Children’s Services barging in, and the old lady who found her, then the little girl’s dad and grandmother rolling up as well. Give me a kid with a plain old broken wrist or a burst appendix any day! Patch them up and send them on their way.’

  ‘So …’ Fiona was trying to catch up but was struggling to take it all in. ‘They know who she is now then? Your Lily?’

  ‘Yes, only she’s not called Lily at all. The child is.’

  ‘I’m confused now.’

  ‘When aren’t you?’ Gina retorted, somewhat cruelly. ‘Now, let’s stop all this work talk and get back to what we usually talk about on a night out.’

  ‘Men!’ all three of them chorused together, dissolving into uncontrollable laughter that sent Fiona into a choking fit when a chunk of crisp went down the wrong way.

  ‘Talking of which …’ Gina’s eyes were trailing a small group of men who’d just come in, slipping their jackets off as they moved across towards the bar. One of them already had his wallet out and was asking the others what they wanted to drink.