by Sarah Hope
Oh dear the poor boy’s dropping off to sleep now.
‘Wait there and I’ll get you a pillow and blanket.’
Where did I put that thick blanket I put over my knees when it gets bitterly cold? Ah, just there in the back of the wardrobe.
‘Here you go. Lift your head up a moment and I’ll put this behind you. Right lay back on the pillow now. Good lad. This will keep you warm.’
Even before I’ve sat down in my armchair he’s fallen asleep. He must have had a busy day, falling asleep like that in a stranger’s house.
I pick up my knitting. It’s no good. I can’t concentrate. This is exactly the reason I stay away from children and people with children. It brings back all those painful memories. Why did the stupid woman bring him here? I would never have dropped Peter off at a neighbour’s house who I didn’t know and swanned straight off without a backwards glance. I wouldn’t have let him out of my sight in the first place. It makes me so angry, these young mothers who think they can pick and choose when to look after their own kids. I wouldn’t have been like that at all. I would have kept my Peter by my side every hour of the day. If I’d have been given the choice that is.
Imagine if he were my boy, asleep on the sofa. Maybe he’d had a bad dream or something had woken him up and he’d come trudging through to the front room to find me and Albert. We would have comforted him and made a little bed for him on the sofa, just like the one I’ve just made for this lad, and settled him down with a cup of cocoa before he fell asleep again. Me and Albert would have sat here whispering together in the half dark so as not to wake him. It could have been. It really could have. I don’t know if I’m crying for Peter, for Albert or for the life I should have led. Why is life so ruddy unfair?
I force myself to look away. This is no good I’m getting myself worked up again. I’ll have to carry on with Peter’s jumper tomorrow I’ll only drop stitches with these shaking hands. Here it comes, the pain in my chest. Not again please. My breath quickens until I feel as though I’m fighting to get enough air in my lungs. Pulling myself up, I stagger to the kitchen. I don’t want to wake the boy.
Leaning against the work surface I wait for the pain and nausea to subside. For my breathing to regulate again.
As Shirley’s concerned face comes to mind I remind myself that I don’t need the doctors. I have no need for the silly tests they want to run on me. Treating me like a ruddy guinea pig. What do they know? Look at Ingrid, one of the girls that comes on the mystery tours. The doctors prodded and poked her, filling her with all this medicine, and what happens? She still drops down dead. No, I don’t need all that fuss. If it’s my time, it’s my time and no amount of hocus pocus will prevent it.
That’s better, it’s subsided now. I think I could do with a cup of cocoa myself, but I’ll just have a sit down beforehand, I don’t think I can stand for that long at the moment.
Chapter Sixteen
Lynette
My feet pound feet on the tiles of the hospital corridor, the sterile air parting around me as I run, following the directions given to me by the receptionist at A & E. Which way did she say? Was it left or right? It was right, I’m sure it was. Yes there it is.
‘My daughter, I was told my daughter Mandy is here? Where is she? I need to see her. Is she okay?’ I catch my breath as the nurse smiles and points down the corridor.
‘Room 3 on the right. The doctor’s just in with her now.’
Flying down the corridor I can just picture what a state she’ll be in. Please let her be alright. Please God, I’ll do anything. I’ll start going to Church every Sunday. I’ll never lie again. I’ll forgive all. Please just let my baby be okay.
Flinging the door open I barge in without knocking. Catching my breath I take everything in; Mandy lying in the stiff white sheets on the hospital bed, face ashen and a drip in the back of her hand. I thought I had prepared myself to see her ill but I’d assumed she would be conscious. I had no idea she would be on a drip.
‘Ah, you must be Mum. Am I right?’ A kind featured doctor looks up from Mandy’s notes at the foot of the bed.
‘Yes. Is she going to be okay?’
‘Ah, she will be fine. No lasting damage. This time. How much have you been told about your daughter’s condition?’
‘Just that she was in hospital with alcohol poisoning.’
‘Yes, found unconscious I’m led to believe. Well, she’s had her stomach pumped. We were worried about her low blood sugar levels and dehydration which is why she’s on a drip.’ He comes over to me at the door and leads me towards a bedside chair. ‘We’ll keep her in for tonight and check her bloods again tomorrow. Then hopefully she can go home.’
Unconscious. She drunk herself unconscious? How did she manage that? She’s only fourteen for goodness sake. Where would she even have gotten alcohol from?
‘Why would she do this? How did she get the alcohol?’ As soon as the words are out of my mouth I wish I had never asked them. How can he know the answers?
‘Is she going through a particularly challenging time? High demands at school? Boyfriend troubles? Changes at home? Unfortunately we are seeing an increase in teenage alcohol problems, binge drinking and what not. I see from her records this is the first time she has been admitted due to alcohol misuse. I’ll be back in the morning to talk to her about the complications and risks involved when misusing alcohol this way. In the meantime, I suggest you talk to her friend who came in with her. Kayleigh, I think her name is. She’s down in the family room at the end of the ward.’
Nodding at him, he leaves. I clasp her clammy, still hand as I let the relief run through me. Trying to steady my shaking hand, I wipe the tears running down my cheeks. She’s okay. The doctor said she was going to be fine. I bring her hand to my lips and kiss her. She’s so cold. My poor darling, what did she think she was doing? She knows not to drink; she knows she’s too young. Why would she put herself at risk like this? We could have lost her.
Looking up, startled as the quiet knocking breaks the silence, I see Kayleigh hovering in the doorway.
‘Kayleigh. What happened?’ The poor girl looks terrified as she walks over to take a seat on the over side of the bed. And so she should. And so should Mandy when she wakes up. I’m going to kill her. Drinking at her age. Putting herself at risk like this. Anything could have happen.
‘I tried to stop her. I really did.’
‘Why were you drinking? Where did you go? Were you at someone’s party or something? You both know you’re too young to drink. Why was there even alcohol there? Or were they older than you? Have you been hanging around with older people is that it?’ So many questions, but I need to know. My poor baby has ended up in this place and I deserve to know.
‘No. No, it wasn’t like that.’ Kayleigh rubs her already red eyes with the palms of her hands and I remember how young she is. ‘We didn’t go to a party. It was just her and me there.’
‘But you haven’t been drinking have you?’ Why didn’t I notice before? She’s stone cold sober. It doesn’t make any sense. Mandy wouldn’t drink on her own. What would be the fun in that?
‘No.’ Kayleigh shakes her head and fixes her eyes on the floor. ‘We went to the park on the way back to your place. She got a bottle of vodka out of her bag. I tried to stop her. I told her she was being stupid, drinking it like she did. I even tried to get it off her but she pushed me away.’
‘What? Why would she do that? Why would she drink on her own?’
Still avoiding all eye contact with me, Kayleigh clears her throat and I strain to hear her.
‘She was saying what happened today with her dad and his other woman. She’s been funny since you and her dad split up. She’s been saying all this stuff like...’
‘Like what? What stuff?’
‘Like she wants to kill herself. Give up.’
‘What? Why would she say that?’ My stomach feels as though it’s taken a punch and I physically recoil from the words.
‘She’s finding it hard to cope with things not being the same at home. And I think today, realising that he had been cheating on you before he left was the last straw. I think she thinks he’s left her for his new baby.’
‘Why didn’t she just talk to me about how she was feeling?’ I could have helped her, made her see that this isn’t a burden she has to take on. That her stupid father still loves her.
‘I think because you’ve been upset and crying all the time, she didn’t want to hurt you anymore.’
Hang on, Mandy didn’t feel as though she could talk to me. My baby can always talk to me. What a crap mum I’ve been, moping about feeling sorry for myself. I’ve not really considered that it was all affecting the kids so much.
‘I’m sorry Mrs Andrews, I wouldn’t have said anything. I promised her I wouldn’t. But I think you should know. Please don’t think I’m rude.’
‘No, not at all, Kayleigh. Thanks for telling me. I just wish Mandy could have told me how she was feeling herself.’ Clinging on to Mandy’s hand for dear life I look at Kayleigh and finally catch her eye. ‘You’re a great friend to her. Thank you.’
‘I better go and ring my mum. Tell her what’s happened.’
I nod at Kayleigh as she retreats back through the door.
He picks up after the third ring.
‘Lynette. I don’t want to do this right now. We can talk later. Do you know what time it is?’ Always on the defensive. As if I’d ring at this time of night to have a go at him.
‘Ste, it’s Mandy. She’s in hospital. Can you come please? At St Matthews, not yours.’ I cut him off and wait.
By the time Ste gets here my blood is at boiling point. I know exactly who’s to blame for all this and it certainly isn’t Mandy, or Kayleigh for that matter. It’s him. Bloody Ste, creating this mess. Tearing our family apart.
‘What’s happened? Is she going to be okay?’
I can hardly look him in the eye as I explain to him what the doctor told me. I can feel myself shaking with rage and am physically biting my tongue to stop myself having a go at him. I know this isn’t the place for a row. My beautiful baby poisoned herself with alcohol. She could have killed herself. None of this would have happened if it hadn’t been for him.
‘Where the bloody hell did she get a bottle of vodka from? Didn’t you know where she was? You must have known what she was up to.’
How dare he? How dare he?
‘Don’t you dare have a go at me. Who do you think is to blame for this? You, that’s who. You’re the reason she was in such a mess in the first place. Don’t you realise how you’ve affected her, swanning off with your easy tart? She’s not been herself since you left. And to see that stupid woman pregnant like that, to realise that you’ve been cheating on me whilst we were still together, that was the final straw for her. You did this. You drove her to this. She could have died and it would all be down to you. I hope your stupid tart and her baby are worth it.’
‘Where did you get all this from? For all you know she was just binge drinking or trying to impress her mates. More than likely she’s been drinking for months.’
‘It was just her and Kayleigh. They were at the park and Kayleigh didn’t touch a drop. Mandy confided in Kayleigh. Kayleigh told me that Mandy feels like you’ve left her for that tart’s baby. That you’re replacing her and Charlie.’
‘Don’t you try and put all the blame on me. Yes, maybe it was me that walked out on you, but it’s not just my fault that our marriage broke down. There were two of us in the relationship.’
‘How can you even say that? Trying to turn it on me? I didn’t tell you to go and have an affair. I didn’t tell you to get some tart pregnant and walk out on your kids.’ Does he seriously think he can say this is my fault?
‘No but you’re well aware that our marriage was over before I started seeing her.’
‘What? I had no idea how you felt about us until you upped and left.’
‘Exactly. You were too busy with your mother and stuff.’
‘Huh, and you were too busy shagging your tart and settling into the house you brought behind my back. And don’t you bring my mum into this again. She didn’t ask for any of this. It’s not as if she asked to get ill. I still don’t understand why you couldn’t have manned up and spoken to me about any so called problems in our marriage instead of sleeping with some tart behind my back and leaving us.’
‘You make it sound so dirty.’
‘You said it.’ This is exactly what I didn’t want, us arguing in front of poor Mandy. Ste has come round my side of the bed. Clasping her hand I voice my worst fears. ‘She could have died.’
‘Yes, but she didn’t and while we’re on the subject of blame. Where do you think she’s learnt to binge drink? ‘
‘What do you mean by that?’
‘I saw the recycling bin this morning in the front garden. Overflowing with wine bottles there was that many.’
Shocked I raise my hands to my face in shame. I hadn’t realised how much I had been drinking, but he’s right when I think about it. I can picture the wine bottles falling out onto the grass, and the amount I’ve drunk since he left is disgusting. I hadn’t realised, which sounds so stupid, but it’s true. I had just been pouring myself a glass when I felt down. Which I guess is almost all the time at the moment.
He brings me into his arms and I beat his chest in despair and frustration.
We stay like this for a few moments and it’s now I realise something has got to change. This is it. Crunch time. I either let what Ste has done, is doing, destroy my kids’ childhoods or I be the stronger, better parent and accept what’s happened. Find a way that we can both be in Mandy and Charlie’s lives.
Looking up at him it would be so easy to carry on with the blame game. I have so much hate in me. So much I want him to know is his fault. I want to make him feel as shit as I do. But I know I’ve got to put it aside for the sake of the kids. Or at least put on a pretence that I have for them anyway. Pulling myself away I take a deep breath.
‘We shouldn’t be arguing like this. Not here. Not in front of Mandy. This is what has put her in here. We’ve got to find a way to make it work. We’ve got to protect the kids from all the crap going on.’
‘I know.’ He sidles around the other side of the bed and slumps into the chair.
I just feel numb, as if all fight has gone out of me.
‘I am sorry the way it has worked out. I shouldn’t have seen Cindy behind your back.’
Nodding, I bite my tongue again and resist the urge to tell him that for once he’s right.
‘And I shouldn’t have brought her along to meet the kids like I did. I should have told you she was pregnant and given you all some time to get used to the idea.’
‘I wish you had. What do we do now?’
‘I don’t know.’ He looks around as if all the answers will be pinned up around the room. ‘I guess I need to talk to Mandy properly. Tell her what’s been going on. She needs to feel like she’s being treated like an adult. I guess I just thought she would accept all of this. Charlie seems to have.’
‘He still asks for you at home.’ Looking at his face as I tell him this makes me realise that he is still human after all. There is a flicker of emotion. It’s comforting to know a bit of the old Ste is still there, even if he is hidden most of the time by the new cold facade.
We sit here for at least another hour talking. It almost feels like old times apart from the fact that we are trying to work out where we go from here to make things as easy as possible on the kids, instead of discussing where we should take our next holiday or what colour to decorate the living room.
Ste asks if we can both sit down together to talk to Mandy about his affair and what’s going to happen from here on. I agree. I think he’s scared she won’t give him the time of day to get his side of the story across. I promise not to bad mouth him in front of the kids. Although I think I’ve done a brilliant job of refraining from doing so cons
idering what he’s done. We decide Ste can have the kids every Sunday. He can take them out or back to his or whatever; as long as they are home by a decent time because of school the next day.
I’m glad we’re sorting the practical things out for the kids’ sakes but I can’t stop how I’m feeling inside. I can’t switch off the hatred and love I still feel for him. I can’t see how I will ever stop crying myself to sleep or laying four places at the table before I remember with cold realisation that he no longer chooses to live with us. It’s easy for him. He has a new life now. A new partner, I guess is the word, to share his thoughts and feelings with. I don’t. The only person I have to talk to about it is Rachel, who I haven’t seen as much of since she went back to work and who I don’t want to put all of my problems onto. I wish Mum could be here for me. I wish I could talk to her. I know she does have lucid moments when I guess I could confide in her, but what’s the point in stressing her out when there is nothing she can do and when she probably won’t even remember it anyway?
‘Is Rachel okay having Charlie all night?’
Oh bugger, Charlie, I had forgotten about him. How crap a mother am I? My daughter is lying in a hospital bed after overdosing on alcohol and I have dumped my young son off with a neighbour I hardly know. My heart literally skips a beat when I see what the time is. It’s almost two in the morning. How could I have just left him there?
‘Rachel wasn’t in. I left him with Mrs Reynolds.’
‘Who?’
‘The old woman across the road.’ I look at the floor embarrassed that I could just leave him like that. With any Tom, Dick or Harry.
‘The busy body? He doesn’t even know her. We don’t even know her. She could be anyone.’
‘I know, I wasn’t thinking. Kayleigh rang me and told me to get here and I panicked. Rachel wasn’t in and there wasn’t anyone else. I better go and get him. Are you okay with Mandy? They should let you stay all night I should think. I’ll come back as soon as I can. I’ll drop him off at Jack’s before school.’
