Sprawled there now, with a dirty grey quilt covering her lap, a cigarette in one hand and the remote for the TV in the other, she grumbled when Karen opened the door.
‘Bloody hurry up, will you? I’m freezing my tits off here. You trying to give me pneumonia or something?’
Rolling her eyes at Sarah, Karen said, ‘Shut up moaning, mam. You’ve got a visitor.’
‘Who?’ Maggie grunted, struggling to turn her head on its pedestal of fat-rolls. ‘Rob?’
‘No, it’s not bloody Rob. You think I’d have let him in if it was?’
‘It’s me,’ Sarah said, stepping into view. Whatever reaction she’d expected, she didn’t get it. Her mother looked at her as if she’d never seen her before in her life.
‘Who are you, when you’re at home?’ Maggie demanded. ‘You from the social, or something?’
‘In a way,’ Sarah said curtly, returning the glare.
‘Well, you can piss off out of it, then, can’t you?’ Maggie thumbed towards the door. ‘You ain’t got no business coming round here on the sneak. I’m disabled, me – long-term!’
‘She isn’t from the social,’ Karen said, coming to stand beside Sarah now. ‘Don’t you recognize your own daughter?’
Maggie’s eyes disappeared into her cheeks as she squinted up at the two of them, then hardened to two stony little pebbles.
‘Don’t know what you’re talking about.’
‘Don’t come the innocent. You know exactly what I mean. Our Sarah – my sister.’
‘You ain’t got no sister.’
‘Oh, behave yourself!’ Karen was losing patience now. ‘She’s your flesh and blood. Stop being such a fucking bitch.’
‘Don’t you talk to me like that!’
‘Or what?’ Karen snorted incredulously. ‘What you gonna do, mam? Lay into me, when you can’t even move off the fucking couch? Give it up, you gobby bitch, or I’ll piss off right now – and I won’t come back!’
‘Piss off, then! See if I care.’
‘You never did.’
‘You ungrateful little cow! I sacrificed everything for you.’
‘No, mother.’ Karen leaned forward aggressively. ‘You took – and you’re still taking. And what do you give back? Nothing! You just moan and gripe about every goddamned thing I do for you.’
‘Shut your friggin’ mouth!’
‘Make me!’
Maggie looked as if she were about to explode. Watching her, Sarah felt a surge of pity. Maggie was helpless, and she knew it. It must be killing her to know that she couldn’t batter her daughter like she would have done in the good old days if they’d dared to disagree with her.
‘You’ve always put yourself first,’ Karen went on venomously, ‘and sod what it did to the rest of us. You’re just selfish. Always have been, always will be.’
‘That’s you, more like,’ Maggie retorted. ‘You and her.’
‘Oh, so you do remember her?’
‘Yeah, I remember her,’ Maggie snarled. ‘And I don’t see why you’re so pally with her all of a sudden. It was your bleeding cat she murdered.’
‘It was hers, actually,’ Karen corrected her angrily. ‘Don’t you remember? I do. I’ve thought about it often enough over the years. That’s right, mother, hers. And guess what? . . . She didn’t kill it – you did!’
‘I did not!’ Maggie spluttered indignantly.
‘Yeah you did, ’cos it wasn’t dead till you put your big fucking feet on it.’
‘She cut its throat.’ Maggie pointed at Sarah accusingly.
‘No, mother.’ Karen shook her head. ‘Want me to remind you what really happened?’
‘Shut up!’ Scarlet-faced, Maggie fumbled a fresh cigarette from the packet on her lap. ‘You’re pissing me off now.’
‘Funny how the truth always does that to you,’ Karen sniped. ‘I remember when I first came clean. You could have put everything right then, couldn’t you? But oh, no – not Maggie Know-it-all! You couldn’t back down and admit you’d been spreading a pack of lies about your own daughter, could you? So you belted me and told me I was imagining things instead.’
In the momentary lull, Sarah stared at her sister open-mouthed.
Turning to her, Karen said, ‘I’m sorry, Sarah. I was only twelve when I admitted it. I wouldn’t give you the cat and we started fighting and I fell on the glass.’
‘She was holding it when I come out,’ Maggie cut in. ‘You can cover for her if you want, but I know the truth.’
‘She had hold of the glass because she’d just pulled it out of the cat’s fucking neck – as you well know.’
‘She knew?’ Sarah felt numb.
‘Yeah.’ Karen nodded guiltily. ‘But she didn’t want to admit she was wrong.’
‘I wasn’t wrong about her going for me, though, was I?’ Maggie said, flicking Sarah a cutting glance.
‘No,’ Karen conceded. ‘But I’ll tell you something, mam – if I was her, I’d have done the same thing, the beating you were giving her.’
Slumping down like a deflated balloon, Maggie stared at the TV screen.
Shaking her head, Karen straightened up. ‘That’s right, mam. Switch off like you always do when you can’t get your own way. That’s why Lol pissed off, and God knows he had the patience of a saint. You want to think about that before you turn everyone else against you.’
‘I’d better go,’ Sarah murmured, exhausted by the suffocating emotions fogging the room.
‘No! Stay for a brew,’ Karen said. ‘Please . . . I really want to talk to you.’
‘It ain’t your house,’ Maggie muttered, her voice barely audible now. ‘You can’t go round offering brews out whenever you feel like it.’
‘I can when I buy the tea bags and pay the electric,’ Karen countered frostily.
‘No, really, I can’t,’ Sarah said. ‘Thanks for asking, though.’
‘I’ll let you out,’ Karen said, throwing a glare at Maggie as she wrenched the door open. ‘Hope you’re satisfied, you miserable old bitch!’
Following her sister out, Sarah paused in the doorway and looked back at her mother. She’d been prepared to forgive and forget when she came here today, but finding out that the bitch had known the truth all these years and had never tried to put things right hardened her. She wasn’t going to waste any more time yearning for Maggie’s love.
‘Have a nice death,’ she said, closing the door on the deafening silence of her mother’s response.
‘I’m so sorry,’ Karen said when Sarah joined her at the front door. ‘I knew she’d be off with you, but that was just plain nasty.’
‘Don’t worry about it.’ Sarah shrugged. ‘I expected it.’
‘Doesn’t make it right, though.’
‘I really don’t care. It was you I wanted to see. It always was.’
‘Really?’ Karen peered at her doubtfully. ‘After what I did? You must have known all along.’
‘It doesn’t matter.’ Sarah smiled reassuringly. ‘We’re not kids any more. I came to terms with all that a long time ago.’
‘Well, you’re better than me,’ Karen said. ‘If it had been the other way round I would have hated you.’
‘Yeah, well, I don’t hate you. Anyway, forget all that. When am I going to see you again?’
‘You really want to?’
‘Wouldn’t ask if I didn’t.’ Sarah smiled. ‘Anyway, you’ve got to meet your niece.’
‘My niece?’ Karen repeated, her eyes widening. ‘Wow! You’ve got a kid?’
‘Yeah. She’s called Kimmy, and she’s gorgeous. You’ll love her.’
‘Bloody hell!’ Karen laughed. ‘Me an aunt. I can’t believe it.’
‘Yeah, and her a gran!’ Sarah hissed, jerking her thumb back towards the living room. ‘But I’m not telling her. She doesn’t deserve it. Anyway, look, I’ve really got to go. I was only supposed to be leaving her for an hour. Let’s swap numbers so we can set something up for you to meet Kimmy.’
&n
bsp; ‘Brilliant!’ Karen yelped, hugging her sister tightly. ‘I can’t wait! Just let me get a pen and paper.’
Sarah was smiling all the way to Hannah’s house. She felt as if she had found a missing piece in her life – and put another firmly in the bin where it belonged. Shame that she and Karen hadn’t had a chance to talk. She had so much to find out about her. But they had the rest of their lives to make up for the time they had lost.
Vinnie was on the couch when Sarah brought Kimmy home. Seeing him there, Sarah smiled, pleased to see him, eager to tell him her news.
‘Hello, you!’ she said, taking Kimmy’s coat off. ‘Haven’t been waiting long, have you?’
‘Since about three,’ he murmured, frowning as he flicked the ash from his cigarette onto his knee and rubbed it in.
Sarah told Kimmy to go and play in the bedroom for a while. There was something wrong. Vinnie would never spoil his clothes like that otherwise.
‘What’s the matter?’ she asked when they were alone. ‘Has something happened?’
Looking up at her, Vinnie sighed heavily. She was so beautiful. He had missed her so much last night. His bed hadn’t felt right. He’d spent too many nights in hers, in her arms.
‘I’ve been thinking,’ he said. ‘That’s all.’
‘Oh? What about?’
‘Us.’ His voice was grave. ‘I’ve been thinking about it all night.’
Sitting down, a knot of apprehension tightening her gut now, Sarah said, ‘What about us? Have you had enough, or something?’
‘God, no!’ Vinnie gazed into her fearful eyes. ‘It’s nothing like that. It’s the opposite, if anything.’ Breathing deeply, he sat forward. Then, suddenly, he dropped onto one knee.
‘What are you doing?’ she asked, a bemused smile twitching her lips.
Looking up at her, his eyes dark, he said, ‘Will you marry me, Sarah?’
Gasping, she drew back from him, her free hand lifting unconsciously to her breast. Had he really just said that?
‘Well?’ He smiled uncertainly. ‘I know it’s not long since Pete – you know. But we don’t have to do it right away. We can wait till you’re ready . . . Say something.’
‘I don’t know what to say.’
‘How about yes?’
‘Oh, Vinnie, it’s not that easy. There’s Kimmy to think about.’
‘What about her? She loves me. That’s why we got together in the first place. Well, not why, but it was that conversation that sparked it all off. She wanted me to be her daddy, remember?’
‘Yeah, I know, but . . . It’s just so soon.’
‘I said we could wait,’ Vinnie persisted, squeezing her hands. ‘At least say yes, so we know we’re gonna do it sometime.’
Sarah saw the sincerity in his eyes and knew that he really wanted this. And was it so wrong? He’d be a wonderful father, and she had no doubt he’d be an amazing husband. He’d been a model boyfriend so far, treating her with respect and affection.
‘Okay,’ she said, coming to a decision. ‘Yes, I will.’
‘Really?’ He could hardly believe it. ‘Do you mean it?’
‘Yes.’ She laughed softly. ‘But not yet.’
Peering deep into her eyes, he said, ‘I told you a long time ago that I could be patient.’
‘You did, didn’t you?’ Tipping her head to the side, Sarah smiled. ‘I can’t believe you remembered that.’
‘I never forget anything,’ Vinnie murmured. ‘So don’t think I’ll forget that you just agreed to marry me.’
Lifting her left hand, he gazed for a moment at the rings still adorning her third finger. Then he slid them off and put them on the table.
Sarah felt a thrill of panic. They were the rings that Pete had given her, and letting Vinnie remove them was like a betrayal. It felt wrong.
‘You don’t need them any more,’ he told her, stroking her cheek gently. ‘That’s the past. This is the future.’
Taking a small black velvet box from his pocket, he opened it and plucked a two-carat solitaire diamond ring from the groove within. Slipping it onto her naked finger, he raised her hand to his lips and kissed it.
‘From now on,’ Vinnie promised, ‘everything you wear will be the best that money can buy.’
Lying beside Vinnie in bed that night, listening to his soft snores and watching the flickering of his eyes behind the long lashes, Sarah twisted the engagement ring around and around on her finger, and gradually came to terms with the decision she had made.
Mrs Walker. Her third surname. No, make that her fourth. Her father’s name had been Bell, which made that her real maiden name – morally, if not legally.
But what about Kimmy’s surname? Vinnie wanted Sarah to change it when they got married but she didn’t know if it was the right thing to do. It seemed wrong to deny Kimmy her real father’s name – as she herself had been denied.
Still, she would decide that nearer the time. Right now, she had more immediate things to consider. Like moving into Vinnie’s flat. It was the one thing he had been adamant about. He would give her time for everything else, but he would not continue sleeping in Pete’s bed. And she could see his point. She wouldn’t like it if the situation were reversed.
Whatever she decided in the end, she would make sure that Kimmy was all right with it. This was the only home the child had ever known and Sarah wasn’t about to traumatize her even more than she already had been.
Sarah needn’t have worried. Kimmy was absolutely thrilled when they sat her down and told her about the move the next morning. But it wasn’t just the prospect of moving into Vinnie’s flat that made her jump up and down, it was the thought of being a bridesmaid at their wedding.
Sarah hadn’t wanted to tell her that particular news just yet, but Vinnie hadn’t been able to contain himself and had blurted it out. Seeing the joy on both of their faces as they discussed pretty dresses, shoes and flowers, Sarah finally relinquished the last of her reserve.
‘I’ll start packing this afternoon,’ she announced. ‘But you’ll have to go and get me some boxes. And I suppose you’d better give me some money, as well.’
‘Oh?’ Vinnie grinned up at her from where he was playing with Kimmy on the floor.
‘Well, I’ll need a wedding dress, won’t I?’ she said, laughing when he immediately leaped up and swept her off her feet.
‘When?’ he asked, gazing lovingly into her eyes.
‘How about six months from now?’
‘Really?’
‘Yes, really. Fifteenth of June okay?’
‘My birthday!’ Kimmy squealed, clapping her hands excitedly.
‘Fifteenth of June it is, then,’ Vinnie said, scooping Kimmy up and bringing her into the circle.
Finally, he had exactly what he wanted.
PART FOUR
2003
35
‘Wake up, Harry . . . Climb the steps into the light . . . Now, I’ll count down from ten, and when I reach one I’ll snap my fingers and you’ll be awake and refreshed.
‘Ten . . . nine . . . eight . . .’
Harry’s eyes snapped open at the sound of clicking fingers and he gazed blearily up at the smiling moon face hovering above him, the spectacles barely hanging on to the tip of the long thin nose, the eyes as inquisitive and bright as a mouse’s.
‘How are you feeling?’ Dr Bandera asked, taking a linen handkerchief from his pocket and dabbing his bald pate with it. It had been an intense session.
‘Fine.’ Harry stretched languidly. ‘Like I’ve slept for a week. How was it?’
‘We’ll listen to the tape in a moment.’ Dr Bandera scribbled something in his notepad and snapped it shut. Pressing the rewind button on his tape recorder, he rubbed his hands together. ‘Cup of tea?’
‘That’d be great. Thanks.’
Yawning long and hard when the doctor left the comfortable plant-infested office, Harry got up and stretched his legs. This had been a good session, he could feel it. Maybe it hadn’t b
een such a crazy idea after all.
He had scoffed when his father had suggested hypnotherapy. He didn’t need it, he’d said – he was doing just fine with his locked-in-memory syndrome, thank you very much. But his father had insisted, reminding him that people who were doing just fine didn’t suffer nightmares and panic attacks, and didn’t go into slumps of depression for weeks afterwards.
One thing was for sure. Whether the mumbo-jumbo was phoney-baloney or not, Dr Bandera sure was good at relaxation therapy. Harry hadn’t felt this rested in months.
‘Here we are.’ Dr Bandera was beaming as he carried the cups in. Harry was a most pleasant and intriguing patient. ‘Now, we’ll just take a minute to talk before you listen to the tape. Smoke, if you wish.’
‘Er, thanks.’ Harry frowned bemusedly. ‘No smoking’ was Dr Bandera’s strictest rule. There must be something big in store. Lighting up, he waited.
‘You know what we discussed when you first came for treatment?’ Dr Bandera said, opening the window. ‘How memories can be so deeply buried that we need extreme measures to bring them to the surface. Well, I think we made a terrific breakthrough today. You see, the memories you’ve been harbouring are now in here.’ Reaching out, he patted the tape recorder. ‘Now, it can be incredibly disturbing when you come face to face with your darkest fears, so before we move on I need to ask if you think you’re ready to face yours?’
‘I think so,’ Harry replied.
Dr Bandera looked at him for a while then nodded decisively. Harry was intelligent and level-headed, and he’d obviously had enough of living under this terrible shadow.
‘You can’t lose a memory,’ he said, settling back in his seat and crossing his legs. ‘Anything that happens to us stays for ever within our psyche. We forget most things because the information is too insignificant. Truly monumental things, however, we can bring to the fore with ease, because we enjoyed them greatly or were hugely moved by them. But we lock horrendous experiences away so that they can’t torture our waking mind. We leak particles from time to time, allowing ourselves to come to terms in a gradual way with the associated feelings – the fear, the pain, and what have you. But our psyche prevents us from recalling the details because it fears that we could not survive reliving the event. Do you understand?’
Tainted Lives Page 35
