Today she isn’t starving, but she’s too hungry to eat like a lady. That’s how she likes me to eat. Cutting up little pieces on my fork and putting it into my mouth, closing my lips around it and pulling the fork out, and then chewing lots of times with my mouth tight shut.
I pick up my knife and fork and cut a little piece of chicken Kiev off the end. The garlicky oil seeps out into the mashed potato. I cut that bit into two and put it in my mouth, making sure I close my lips around the fork, and pull it out slowly. It tastes good. I chew it lots of times. I go back for the second piece. Now that I have the taste in my mouth, I am a teeny-weeny bit hungry. But I remind myself that if I fell off the chair, I would roll out the door and Sooty would maybe even chew me up, the way he’s chewed the corners of the tables and some of Mummy’s shoes with heels. I cut an even teenier piece and decide to count how many times I chew it. I get to twenty-eight and it’s goo in my mouth, so I swallow it. I decide I will eat one section of the Kiev and draw a line across the mash to mark where I can eat up to. I cut another little piece of Kiev and get a teeny bit of mash and put it on top, and chew it thirty times until it doesn’t taste of chicken Kiev and mash any more. I swallow it. The next forkful I chew fifteen times, and the one after that is so good I chew it ten times, and then I forget to chew and keep eating.
By the time I remember the line on the mash and the section of Kiev I was supposed to eat, I’ve gone way past it. It’s too late now, I decide. I will do it tomorrow. I keep eating until I have finished.
CLARE
20TH SEPTEMBER 1997
I want to go to Uncle John’s and run round the back of the house and in and out of the trees, careful not to run into them and bang my forehead so my head bounces around inside itself.
We only have our garden. We’re not allowed on the flowerbeds because they’re Mummy’s and we’ll destroy them, and we’re not allowed to make a noise.
The car’s not working, so we have to walk to school through the park. Mummy doesn’t like it. She says it’s too cold and miserable and dark to be walking through the park. But I like it because it reminds me of Uncle John’s.
I was looking forward to the summer holidays for so long and, now we’re back, it’s only worse. It was what Mummy needed, Daddy said. But I don’t think it was a good idea at all.
Me and Thomas run ahead. Sooty runs after us, his tail wagging one way and the other, the way it does when he’s happy. We’re not allowed on the grass, but she’s looking down so I run on and off the grass, slithering like a snake. A snake has no legs, so it needs to move in swirly swirls. That’s what they do in my dreams. Slither in swirls through the sea and jump up in the sky and into my hair. I run onto the grass, onto the path, onto the grass, onto the path.
‘Clare, wait for me,’ Thomas calls.
I look back. I don’t want to stop. ‘Catch me up,’ I call back, the wind blowing my words away as they come out. It’s cold. Fingers touch mine and I cling to them, and then his hand is in mine. I turn and he smiles, and I smile back and we run, holding our hands with our school bags out, onto the grass, onto the path. Onto the grass, onto the path.
Sooty barks. Woof, woof! Shush, Sooty. Woof, woof! He will take Mummy out of her dreams and make her look up.
I feel a hand on my shoulder and first I think it’s Thomas’s, but then I remember that Thomas’s hand is in my hand. Just when I turn to see whose it is, my shoulder is yanked and I’m thrown backwards onto the grass. I feel the tired tears of the morning grass soak through the bum of my dress.
‘What do you think you’re doing?’ Mummy screams. ‘How many times do I have to tell you?’ Sooty comes and licks my face and puts his paws on me. They’re all wet and, when he moves them, there are muddy prints on my coat. When he’s happy he puts his paws all over you, playing. Stop it, Sooty, I think. Down, Sooty.
Mummy pulls him by his collar and he yelps as he’s yanked into the air away from me.
I don’t want to be a cry-baby but I can’t help it. My bum is cold and wet and my school bag is muddy and Mummy is mad. I start crying. Thomas cries too. His shoulders shake before anything else. He is quiet like a mouse, but his shoulders shudder and then the sound comes and the tears roll.
‘It’s okay, Thomas,’ I tell him.
‘God help me – both of you, be quiet!’ Mummy screams.
Other mummies and their children go past and they are all staring at us, but Mummy doesn’t care.
‘You both have me driven mad! And this fucking dog!’ She yanks Sooty’s lead and pulls him into the air until he yelps again.
Please be quiet, Mummy, I think. Everyone is looking. But she doesn’t care. She’s in one of her monster moods when she doesn’t see and there’s nothing you can say or do. She just keeps screaming until you’re red in the face and everyone is looking with their mouths open, like they are at the cinema.
Then she whispers, which she sometimes does. I don’t know what’s worse. ‘Get your arse up off that ground.’ She says it with her lips tight and white, and I am scared.
I get up and make to run away, but she catches me and squeezes me under the arm and it hurts so much my eyes sting and the tears come out by themselves.
‘Be-have,’ she says.
I walk beside her the rest of the way. I don’t touch Thomas and I stay away from Sooty, because I know that’s what she wants. I don’t cry, because that will just make her worse. I don’t rub my arm, because that will make her angry.
‘Goodbye, Mummy,’ I say when we get to the gate, because that’s what I have to say. ‘Bye, Thomas,’ I say. I want to give him a hug, but that will just make Mummy mad, so I look at him quickly and then look away. Thomas goes to the school next door because he’s littler than me. I will look for him later in the playground and see if I can find him through the fence.
*
Miss asks me what happened and I say I fell over playing with my new dog. She laughs and shakes her head and I smile as much as I can, even though my chest is still popping in and out and I feel like I should take my pump.
When I sit down at my desk, Mandy and the other girls ask me what’s wrong and I say I was running on the grass and my Mummy got mad and they tell me not to worry. That’s nothing, they say. I nod. I say, ‘Here’ when my name is called and then I gaze out the window. Miss asks me a question, but I wasn’t listening, so I don’t know what she said. ‘Sorry, Miss?’
‘Pay attention, Clare,’ she says.
‘Yes, Miss; sorry, Miss.’ I hope she doesn’t pinch me under my arm, too.
At breaktime I go to the toilet and pull up my jumper and look under my arm. It’s all purple. I poke it and it hurts. I poke it again.
At lunchtime I go to look for Thomas but I don’t see him. I sit on the end of the table in the canteen, so I don’t have to talk. Mandy fancies Dominic and she thinks he likes her, too. I’m not hungry, so I give my sandwich to Rebecca. Rebecca is always hungry and when someone doesn’t finish their lunch, she always wants it. I give her my sandwich and the cereal bar I have for dessert and I eat my yogurt.
‘Are you okay, Clare?’ they ask.
I nod and say I just don’t feel very well.
Last class is history and we have a quiz and I know the answers, so I forget I’m sad and shoot my hand up in the air and go, ‘Miss, Miss,’ and she picks me and I tell her that the Children’s Crusade was in 1212. I’m the best in my class at history. It’s so much fun. Dates and things that happened before even Mummy and Daddy were born. Just when I’m smiling and happy, it’s home time. I wish I could stay longer and that I was in the after-school club, which is for children whose mummies work and come to pick them up late. I go out and meet Thomas and we walk to the gate together. He’s forgotten all about this morning and starts telling me about everything that’s happened today. I smile and listen. Then Mummy comes with Sooty and we both say, ‘Hi, Mummy!’, which we have to do before we go and say hello to Sooty, or Mummy will get mad.
Mummy smiles.
I run to Sooty and wrap my arms around him. He licks my face and squeals with delight. He’s such a baby and I love him so much. His tail goes wild wagging-wagging-wagging. When you stand next to him, his tail beats against your leg. Sometimes I stand next to him when Thomas is hugging him, just to feel it thumping like a heartbeat.
I don’t run on the way home. But I do ask Mummy for the lead, so I can take Sooty. He pulls me along because he’s so strong, and me and Thomas take it in turns to hold the lead.
At home we get changed and play in the utility room with Sooty until we’re called for dinner.
We wash our hands and sit down at our places at the table. Daddy isn’t home. I don’t ask where he is. I say thank you for dinner and bless myself and wait for Mummy to say the prayer, but she picks up her knife and fork and starts eating. I’m not hungry, so I eat little bits here and there until Mummy tells me not to play with my food. When she’s not looking I give some to Sooty and he gulps it down, with his tail wagging-wagging-wagging like mad.
When we are putting the things away I hear the click of the front door. I drop the tea towel and run to the door. Thomas runs after me. ‘Daddy Daddy Daddy!’ I shout. I’m so happy to see him. He kneels down and is there to catch me when I get to the door. He wraps an arm round me and then catches Thomas in the other arm and lifts us up into the air. He still has his coat on. I kiss his cheek. It’s cold. I wrap my arms around his neck and snuggle my face into his shoulder. It’s so warm and safe there. I don’t even mind his hairy chin that pricks me. I don’t care about the pricks today. I like them. They remind me of him; that he is here. Now that he’s here, we can play and run around and Mummy can go upstairs.
He carries us into the kitchen and sets us down on the floor. He goes over to Mummy, who is making a cup of coffee, and says, ‘Hello, love,’ but she doesn’t look at him or smile or anything. She looks as angry as she looks all the time.
I feel bad for running to the door. I think that might have made her angry. The three of us should have gone to the door together.
When I have a lovely man, I think, I will run to him and let him pick me up as soon as he gets in the door.
Mummy wrinkles up her nose and sniffs. ‘I can smell shit,’ she says to Daddy, looking at him for the first time.
Daddy sighs a big sigh that means he’s tired. ‘Here we go.’
‘I bet you brought it in on the bottom of your fucking shoes.’ Me and Thomas stand still and watch them, hoping everything will be okay and they will make up, and Daddy will sit down to have his dinner and we can tell him about our day.
‘Lift up your shoes,’ Mummy says to Daddy.
‘Come on now, Josephine.’ He turns to us, not smiling any more. ‘You two, go upstairs to your room.’
I take Thomas’s hand and walk out of the kitchen. We walk upstairs until we get three-quarters of the way up and sit down. I make the shush-sign at Thomas and he nods. They start up again.
‘Come on, Josephine,’ says Mummy, putting on Daddy’s voice. ‘I can smell shit in my kitchen, which I spent the whole morning cleaning, and you’re telling me to come on? Ha!’ she laughs. The horrible cackle she does when she’s not really laughing. ‘I’m not the one who, when they cook, it smells of shit.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘I mean you can’t even cook, is what I mean. Now lift up your shoes,’ she shouts.
I feel bad for Daddy. I wish Mummy wouldn’t shout at him.
‘Come on. I’m not a child.’
‘Oh, really. Unless you told me, I really wouldn’t know.’
‘Josephine, what are we going to do?’
‘Well, you’re going to show me the soles of your shoes, and if you brought dog’s shit through those carpets that I spent hours cleaning today, so help me God.’
I run up the rest of the stairs into our room. I pick up my shoes and turn them over. They’re clean. I pick up Thomas’s. There is brown sludge on the bottom. I look at the floor in our room and see brown sludge on the carpet, too. I keep my head down all the way to the stairs and follow the poo-sludges. I go downstairs and see the sludges all the way into the kitchen. They’re shouting now. Mummy’s voice is high and swirly, like the night the snakes were in my hair.
‘Mummy,’ I say, keeping my head down. ‘It was me.’
As soon as I’ve said it, a thump comes down on the side of my head and my ear rings. She’s screaming at the top of her voice. Daddy has her wrist in his hand and he’s shouting, too, telling me to get upstairs to our bedroom.
I turn and run, and all I hear is Mummy screaming, ‘Trodden through the whole fucking house! That dog! That fucking mongrel!’
On Saturday, Daddy says we’ve been good all week, so we’re going to the big park with cows and sheep and peacocks. I ask if we can go for a Family Night Out after, but he says no – no Family Nights Out for a while. Me and Thomas huff and fold our arms and he says there’ll be none of that, so I unfold my arms and Thomas copies me. Daddy’s eyes are small and watery and he has lines around them that he didn’t used to have.
‘Is Mum coming?’ I ask.
‘No, she’s got things to do.’
‘Can Sooty come?’
‘Yes,’ he says.
That makes me and Thomas jump up and down and clap our hands. Sooty comes running in from the garden and barks. Woof-woof. I rub his head and under his chin and he jumps up on me. He puts his paws on my tummy and I take them in my hands and make him dance. Thomas laughs and so does Daddy, and that makes me laugh. I get a fit of giggles and the tears sneak out of the corners of my eyes and my face goes red, I’m that hot.
‘Right. Eat up your breakfast and we’ll be off,’ Daddy says. He gulps down his tea.
I let Sooty go, and I sit down, but he jumps back up and rests his paws on my lap. Daddy doesn’t say anything. If Mummy was here, she would scream that it’s disgusting and to get that dirty mongrel outside this minute. I’m glad she’s not coming. Everything is so much brighter when she’s not here. The sun peeps out from behind the clouds and we can play and run around, and Thomas can squeal like a mouse when I tickle him.
I gulp down my cereal and barely even chew, but the Krispies are so small I can swallow them right down. Daddy goes out and it’s just me, Thomas and Sooty. I look at the kitchen door to make sure it’s all clear and then put the bowl on my lap. Sooty licks up the milk like he’s a mop and splashes me. When he’s finished, his whiskers are all white like he’s an old man, even though he’s only a baby like Thomas. I wonder if Uncle John got my letter.
When we get presents, Mummy always makes us write a Thank You Letter. So I got the writing paper and pen out of the cabinet in the sitting room and wrote a letter. It said:
Dear Uncle John,
Thank you so so so so so much for my puppy. I love him more than anything in the world (apart from Mummy and Daddy and Thomas). I promise I will look after Sooty for ever and ever. Amen.
Love you, Clare
P.S. Thomas says thank you too.
P.P.S. Tell Sarah and Mary and John we miss them.
I made Mummy send it, even though she said there was no need. She hates Sooty. I don’t know why. He’s done nothing to her.
Sooty licks his lips until the milk has gone. I get my bowl and Thomas’s, put them in the sink and turn on the tap. I want to be quick, so instead of using the sponge like Mummy has shown me, I wipe the bowls with my hand under the cold water. I don’t use the hot tap because I might burn myself, and that hurts. If Mummy knew I was washing the bowls in cold water, she would give me a slap across the back of my legs.
Me and Thomas run upstairs to the bathroom to brush our teeth. I make a worm of toothpaste on my toothbrush and hold it under the tap. Thomas makes a worm on his toothbrush, but it’s long and skinny and looks funny. ‘Yours is skinny,’ I say, laughing and pointing at his toothbrush.
‘Well, yours is fat, like you!’ he shouts.
I stand on his foot and elbow him in the tummy. Saying you’re f
at is the worst thing you could say to anyone. No one wants to be fat. Everyone wants to be slim and beautiful. I hate Thomas right now, so I make my eyes really small like black holes and stare at him with pursed lips.
He squeals and hits me with his toothbrush. I look down at my top; it has blue toothpaste on it.
I clip him round the ear with the backs of my fingers.
He starts crying.
‘Shut up, you idiot,’ I tell him with tight lips, like Mummy’s when she’s angry.
‘You’re an idiot,’ he shouts.
I finish brushing my teeth without looking at him again in the mirror. I rinse three times and storm out of the bathroom and into our bedroom. I shut the door and lock it, even though we’re not allowed to. I pull my top up over my head and throw it on the floor and stamp on it. I look up. My eyes are burning. I can see myself in the mirror. I look like a big blurry blob. I sit on the carpet and cry into my top, so no one will hear me.
I wipe my eyes and look at myself. My boobies look big. Mummy is right. I’m fat.
I hear Daddy call up from downstairs, asking if we’re ready. I wipe my eyes again and get a new T-shirt from the wardrobe, put it on and go downstairs.
In the car Daddy puts on a funny face and says, ‘Seatbelts, everyone,’ like he’s the captain of a big ship. Normally I would laugh, but I just smile this time. When he turns on the engine he makes voom-voom noises that only he can make, and he pulls out and we whizz down the road.
We make a stop at the petrol station because Daddy needs to fill up. We wait until he puts the pipe in the back of the car and feeds it, and then we go into the shop with him. We can each choose some treats for our day out. I choose a packet of salt-and-vinegar crisps and a chocolate-and-caramel bar, and Thomas gets a bar of chocolate and a packet of sweets. Daddy goes over to the ice-cream fridge and gets one out for himself. When I see the ice-cream in his hand I say, ‘Oh!’ because I want one, too. Thomas copies me the way he does, and Daddy says, ‘Do you want an ice-cream, too?’
Her Mother's Daughter Page 20
