by Annie Murray
Margaret knew she ought to say no. She had told Fred she’d be back by nine or soon after. But would Fred notice? It was all above board. Alan knew she was a married woman. She also knew that nothing on earth was going to stop her going.
‘That’d be very nice,’ she said. ‘Have you got time?’
‘At this time of day I’ve got all the time in the world,’ he said.
Fifty-Six
‘That’s a nice picture,’ Sooky said.
She was looking at the photo of Joanne and Dave’s wedding on the shelf in the back room. It showed them standing in front of the Registry Office, smiling at Pete, Dave’s friend, who had volunteered to take photos.
‘It was only two years ago,’ Joanne said, handing Sooky a mug of tea. ‘I’ve made it your way, with milk.’ Sooky had taught her, and she liked the sweet, milky brew.
‘That’s lovely, thanks.’ Sooky turned and took the mug. The girls were playing with Lego.
‘I was four months pregnant with her,’ Joanne said. ‘Which was lucky, because I was just past the sicky bit.’
Sooky peered at it again. ‘He looks nice,’ she said cautiously.
‘Yeah,’ she sighed. ‘Well, he was – is, really I s’pose. Come on, let’s sit down. Oh, I’ve got some Jaffa Cakes. Is Priya allowed one?’
They were getting into a routine, visiting each other’s houses on a Wednesday or Thursday. Joanne really liked going to Sooky’s, the feel of there being a big family around. Her own home seemed lonely in comparison. She thought Harpreet, Sooky’s sister, was lovely. Her mom seemed a bit out of it and she wasn’t sure about Raj, her big brother. He was really uptight and unsmiling. Sooky had told her he was obsessed with politics. His wife Roopinder had been okay – a bit distant. Joanne simply saw that she seemed tired.
‘So, how’s it going: the degree and everything?’ Joanne asked, when they were all settled.
Sooky gave her smile. ‘It’s good. Actually, I really love it – learning again. Getting out of the house. I know Priya’s okay with Mom, so that’s not a problem. And it’s nice to have a challenge.’
‘That’s great.’ Joanne watched her with admiration. She kept toying with the idea of going to college. There were even places with crèches. For some reason, though, each time she thought of it, her heart sank. It seemed a lonely road to take and she didn’t want to leave Amy, not at her age and with strangers. Asking her own mother didn’t feel like an option.
‘How’s your husband?’ Sooky asked.
‘Okay, I think. It’s hard to tell. I’ve at least got his mom to say he can stay there till the end of the month. She keeps saying, “Oh, he’ll be back at work before that, so he’ll need to come home.” But I’m not sure that he will – he’s just . . .’ She shook her head. ‘He’s gone to pieces. Completely. But at least now that Wendy’s sure he’ll be moving back here by November, she’s calmed down a bit. She’s stopped ringing me up all the time anyway! And he’s been over a couple of times, on the bus, for a visit. In fact he’s coming on Friday, if he’s up to it.’
The first time he had sat where Joanne was sitting now and wept. ‘Oh God,’ he kept saying over and over. ‘Oh God, God . . . I could’ve lost you. I’m such a fool.’
‘You do want him back, though?’
Joanne loved Sooky’s directness. It felt as if they could talk about anything now. And she knew Sooky wasn’t a simple hearts-and-flowers romantic who’d just say, ‘Well, if you love him . . .’ She did love him, still – but it wasn’t as simple as that.
‘I think I do,’ she said slowly. ‘I know that the way he was before he left is not really him. I’ve known him years. It’s more as if he’s been having a long, slow breakdown without any of us realizing.’
Sooky nodded. ‘That’s a kind way to look at it.’
‘I do want him,’ Joanne continued slowly. ‘Only at the moment everything about it feels like jumping off a cliff. I don’t know where we’re going to land!’
Sooky laughed. ‘That’s the trouble with marriage in general, I’d say!’
They spent a lovely afternoon, taking the girls out for a little while when the sun came out, to play in the garden. Sooky told Joanne more about her family.
‘It’s really nice the way you and your sister are so close,’ Joanne said.
‘Yes, she’s a sweetheart. When I got married and went to Derby I missed her more than anyone – well, Mom too.’
‘What about your sister-in-law?’
Sooky made a face, then tried to be charitable. ‘Well, she’s okay.’ She bent to pass Priya the ball they were throwing around. ‘It’s just – me coming home and everything . . . She can be quite spiteful. It’s almost as if she thinks it’s her duty to be nasty to me. The disgraced sister-in-law, you know. She’s quite traditional, but then I don’t know if she’s really happy with that. Also, she’s not feeling well during this pregnancy. She seems really down.’
Joanne remembered Roopinder’s pointy, aloof face. She hadn’t looked very nice. But she said, ‘Poor thing. It’s all nerve-racking, isn’t it?’
‘Raj is out such a lot – I think it’s tough for her. He’s quite obsessed with what’s going on in India. What with that and work, he doesn’t spend much time with her. Oh, look!’
A huge, hairy ginger tabby cat had appeared on the fence-post further down the garden, and Amy and Priya had just noticed it. The two little girls moved closer, staring up at the cat, which sat with its head bowed, gazing down at them.
Joanne laughed. ‘I wish I had a camera!’
‘What the hell’s got into Mom?’ Karen said when she phoned later.
Joanne was in the middle of giving Amy her tea. It wasn’t a good time to talk.
‘What d’you mean? Is she poorly again?’
Karen laughed. ‘No! She’s asked me to go into town with her on Saturday. Says she wants to get some new clothes, and I’m a better judge of what’s in fashion.’
Joanne grinned. ‘Well, that’s true. But . . . that’s good, isn’t it?’
‘Yeah, well, I s’pose it is. She just seems . . . different. I think it’s because of that group – the war thing. It’s really perked her up. I mean, she won’t say much about it, but it only goes to prove that letting it out’s the answer.’ Karen had got her ‘counsellor’ hat on again.
‘Umm, I s’pect you’re right,’ Joanne said, trying to cut up Amy’s toast with one hand. ‘Or maybe she’s got a fancy man?’
‘Pigs might fly,’ Karen said.
‘How’s the course going?’
She almost heard Karen stand up straighter down the phone. ‘It’s brilliant! And the woman running it says I’m a natural.’
‘Oh.’ Joanne was leaning down to the table with the phone jammed between ear and shoulder, scraping out Amy’s egg. Amy giggled. ‘I expect you are. You’re getting plenty of practice anyway.’
‘How’s Dave, Joanne?’
She righted herself again.
‘Fragile,’ she said.
They had agreed that when he came, it should be for a limited time. An hour and a half, Joanne had said at first. She had to set a limit, to make sure he would leave, and not spread his difficulties like an oil slick all over the house. The time had extended now to two hours. Megan, the social worker, had come for one of his visits to see how they were getting on, and Joanne found her presence comforting.
He arrived at two-thirty on Friday afternoon, planning to get a bus back before the rush-hour. Joanne had taken his keys off him and he had to ring the bell. To her surprise Dave had submitted to all this without a fuss.
Amy was asleep when he arrived. Joanne opened up to find him talking to Jim Coles over the fence. Jim was brisk, but friendly.
‘Go on then, lad – there’s yer missis,’ he said. ‘Mustn’t keep her waiting.’
As soon as they were inside, he wanted to hug her. They stood for a few moments in the hall with their arms round each other. He felt different from how she remembered. Still solid, b
ut somehow slacker. He made a small sound of relief, as if being in her arms was all he needed. She breathed him in.
‘Where’s Amy?’ he asked, still holding her.
‘Having a nap. She’s been down a while, so it won’t last much longer.’
This was the moment she expected to step back, but he still held her close and nuzzled the top of her head. In a moment she realized he was becoming aroused and she tried to pull away.
He looked at her pleadingly. ‘I miss you. I need you, Jo.’
She wanted him too, in those moments, longed to be held, naked and warm. But she also knew it was too fast. Things had to go a certain way, slowly, carefully and on her terms, or she would be lost.
‘Not yet,’ she said. ‘You know what we agreed. And Amy’ll wake anyway.’ She stepped away from him in a business-like way, protecting herself. ‘Cuppa tea?’
He sat waiting as she brewed up. When she went to sit with him he said, ‘I was thinking. Those albums you’ve got – shall we have a look at them?’
‘What, the old ones of us?’
‘Yeah.’ He seemed eager.
She hesitated, not knowing if she could stand going over it all again. ‘D’you think that’s a good idea?’
‘I just . . .’ He looked down as if embarrassed. ‘The counsellor woman said about looking at the past. Trying to see it differently – feel it. I just thought if I looked, with you . . .’
Joanne was moved by this admission. She could see he was working at something – really trying.
‘Okay then.’
There were only the two albums that she’d looked at not so long ago. She sat opposite him as he went through them. She didn’t really want to see them, or sit next to him. He lingered over pictures of his mom and dad.
‘Mom looks older now,’ he said. ‘Doesn’t she?’
He didn’t say anything about his dad.
There were the triumphant pictures of him as a young, promising footballer. He stared for ages at the one of him at the Villa ground, foot on the ball.
In the end he looked up at her. ‘That was a dream all right, wasn’t it? But that was me – there in that picture.’
His face crumpled and again he was weeping, but gently. She could see that grief was washing its way through and out of him.
Fifty-Seven
That Sunday, after the dinner was cleared away, Margaret went up to the bedroom and shut herself in.
Opening the cupboard, she stood looking in at her shopping from yesterday, pulsing with excitement. There was a skirt and two pairs of slacks arranged on hangers, and beside them on the shelves, blouses and jumpers – colourful ones! – carefully folded. She put her hands to her face for a moment as a tremor of glee passed through her. All these nice new things! Last night, when she and Karen had got back, she had brought the bags up here, carefully cut off the price tags and hung and folded them all away. She couldn’t stop thinking about them, so much so that she’d only smoked one cigarette all evening.
Taking off her skirt and blouse, which now seemed so drab, she slipped into a pair of navy slacks, a nice new white camisole – ‘You might as well get some underwear as well, Mom,’ Karen had encouraged her – and a pink jumper with a soft turtle-neck. Then the shoes, moccasin pumps in navy suede with a little gold chain across the front. It felt wonderful, as if she was clothing herself in a new life.
She combed out her hair, which was at a good stage after a perm (falling in soft waves, not too tight, but not yet grown-out and slack) and stood in front of the mirror on her dressing table. She could only see half of herself and leaned forward to look down at her feet.
Inside, she was trembling. She looked closely at her face. If only her eye was normal, instead of wandering off to the side! Nowadays something would be done to correct it. It made her look half-soaked, she thought. But otherwise, she had to admit, she didn’t look bad at all. In fact she looked quite spruce – years younger! And she really must try cutting down on the fags as well; that would surely help?
She smiled radiantly into the glass.
‘Hello, Alan,’ she whispered. ‘It’s lovely to see you again.’ Then she looked down, closing her eyes for a minute. ‘Oh God,’ she said. ‘What am I doing?’
‘Surprise!’ Karen cried, opening the door to Joanne and Amy. She waved an arm towards Margaret, who came along the hall feeling suddenly bashful.
‘Mom, you look lovely!’ Joanne said.
‘There’s no need to sound so flaming surprised.’ But Margaret was gratified to see that Joanne looked really impressed. She found herself grinning. ‘D’you like it?’ She twirled a little in the narrow hall. ‘Me and Karen had a bit of a spree. She was a big help.’
Karen had, to Margaret’s surprise, been marvellous. She had expected to be bossed and snapped at by her younger daughter. Instead, Karen had been helpful and encouraging, and seemed to have a good eye for what would suit her. They’d even had a bite to eat, just a baked spud and coleslaw and a coffee, but it had been a treat, making a day of it. Margaret realized she hadn’t enjoyed herself so much in a long time.
‘We got her some nice things,’ Karen said. ‘You know – classics really. It was high time you sorted out your wardrobe,’ she scolded, but jokingly. ‘Bit of a late birthday present for you.’
‘It’s lovely,’ Joanne said. Margaret was surprised to see that they found her transformation very cheering. What had she been like all these years? She could barely remember.
Joanne took Amy into the back room. Fred was sitting smoking, as usual, and looking at the sports results on Teletext.
‘Doesn’t she look nice, Dad?’
‘Eh – what, bab?’
‘Mom, she looks nice, doesn’t she?’
Fred glanced round and took in the sight of his wife. ‘Ar, she does.’ He frowned. ‘You been shopping?’
Margaret rolled her eyes. ‘I told you. Where did you think we’d gone all day yesterday?’ Shaking her head, she turned to Joanne. ‘So, is Dave coming over?’
‘No. I went over to see him yesterday. I did ask him, but to be honest, he’s not coping with things easily. He said thanks, but he’ll be round another time. He’s trying to get himself ready to come home this week.’
‘I dunno what’s up with the lad,’ Fred remarked, clicking off the TV.
‘No,’ Joanne said, ‘I don’t suppose you do.’
‘I mean, I’d’ve thought he’d’ve snapped out of it by now.’
Margaret saw Joanne roll her eyes at Karen.
‘Come on – I’ll get the kettle on,’ she said.
Every time she moved, Margaret was aware of her new clothes. Standing in the kitchen, she admired the delicately knitted cuffs of her sweater. She had never had anything as nice before. From the front room she could just hear Joanne trying to explain to Fred what a breakdown was, what had happened to Dave.
What was the point? Margaret thought. She felt such a long way from Fred. All these wonderful new experiences made her feel she was riding a high on a beautiful wave that had risen right over Fred’s head, taking her to a magical place where she couldn’t even see him any more. It was as simple and brutal as that.
Altogether now she’d been to three meetings at the library.
At the end of the second one Audrey had announced, ‘Next week’s session we’ve called “Joining Up!” Now, this doesn’t just mean the men. It means the women who joined up too, whether it was you or someone you knew – a relative perhaps.’
Margaret and Alan stepped out together into the dark street. A mizzling rain had started, but they only had to walk round the corner into Station Road. It felt strange to her, walking along with this man. The only man she had ever walked beside before was Fred. She was nervous, yet also very excited. There was nowhere she wanted to be more. She’d also promised herself that she wouldn’t smoke in the pub. She didn’t want to go about stinking like an ashtray.
‘What’ll I get you?’ Alan asked once they were inside.
Margaret asked for half a lager and sat down. She examined Alan as he went to the bar, his broad, square shoulders, the way his hair bristled out at the back, then stopped suddenly to reveal a band of flesh above the collar of his coat. His skin was a sallow colour and looked soft. An intense feeling came over her as she looked at his solid outline in his raincoat, of a sense of rightness, of being drawn to him.
As he turned to bring back the drinks, she realized in confusion that she hadn’t even taken her coat off and stood up hastily to do so. She’d put on the navy slacks to come out and felt self-conscious, but of course no one else had noticed. She was glad Alan hadn’t commented, that he seemed to take her as she was, whatever she was wearing. But did she imagine the admiring look that he cast over her as he walked back to the table?
‘There you go,’ he said, placing her drink on a beer mat. He shouldered off his own coat and laid it over the chair-back beside hers. Then he leaned over and fished a packet of cigarettes out of the breast pocket, went to open it, then made an impatient sound and laid it on the table. He turned to Margaret with a wry expression.
‘I’m trying to give them up.’
She smiled. ‘Snap! Me too.’
Reaching for the packet, she moved it over to her side of the table. ‘Out of harm’s way then,’ she said.
‘What about you, though?’
‘I don’t feel like one at the moment.’
‘That’s all right then – you can keep an eye on me!’ Alan gave a laugh, took a sip of his drink, then said, ‘I was just thinking about what Audrey said about women joining up. There was this wench – and she was a wench, if you know what I mean – up the old end where I lived as a kid. Molly Fox, that was her name.’ He shook his head. ‘God, she was trouble, she was! Blonde bombshell sort – always in a scrape of some sort. Her mother was like a prize-fighter – a drunk, no good to anyone. Anyhow, Molly went off and joined the army. I’d love to know what happened to her. The army must’ve wondered what’d hit them!’
