by Dawn Goodwin
Maybe she could grow a few simple vegetables and herbs, although she didn’t know where to start. Greg had employed a gardener when they had moved into the house down the road. Peter, with his quiet smile and baggy, grass-stained trousers, would arrive every Thursday, let himself into the garden, weed, prune and mow, then let himself out again. Sometimes when she was lying in bed when things got really bad, she would hear the lawnmower, smell the cut grass and imagine she could hear children laughing and playing football outside. It reminded her that there was a world going on outside. Even now, the smell of cut grass made her feel inexplicably sad. Every Christmas she would leave out a hamper of homemade mince pies and shortbread for Peter with a fifty-pound note tucked into a Christmas card. She had no idea if Peter was married or had children, if he liked shortbread or loathed mince pies, but she liked to think he was pleased to receive it.
The polite ignorance of the middle classes.
The same could be said of the cleaner they had employed for years. Maddie would communicate with her by text message and leave money on the kitchen counter for her. She would let herself in once a week, so that when Maddie came home from work, the house would be immaculately tidy and smelling of citrus and bleach. Maddie knew her first name was Aneta, but knew nothing about her family or where she lived, but when everything felt like it was spiralling out of control, Aneta knew to leave the main bedroom untouched, to let Maddie sleep, not to intrude on her grief. It was never discussed though. She just knew. Maddie realised with embarrassment that she had seen her in person only a handful of times and yet this woman had cleaned up many of Maddie’s most intimate messes.
A train rumbled past in the distance and tyres squealed on the road outside. The cardigan she was wearing was doing a poor job of keeping the morning chill out. She looked around one more time, then picked up the bowl and turned to head back indoors.
Ben’s tiny face was peeking through the railings on Jade’s balcony above her. She wiggled her fingers at him and he watched her, his face serious. Maddie could hear Jade calling his name, but he didn’t move, just carried on staring at her, like an animal trapped in a cage at the zoo.
‘What are you staring at?’ Jade appeared behind him, her face impatient, then it visibly softened as she looked down and saw Maddie below, like a mask had slipped into place.
Maddie waved up at her. ‘Hi, neighbour!’
‘Hey! Getting rid of evidence?’ She smirked and Maddie blushed.
‘Yeah, something like that. Typical that it hasn’t rained when I want it to.’
‘You’re a badass, you are!’
No one had ever called her that before and she grinned. Ben was still staring down at her, his little fists clamped around the railings. Jade looked at him, then Maddie. Jade reached out and stroked his hair. ‘We’re going out to the park in a bit, maybe feed the ducks if you want to join us?’ she said.
‘I’d love to!’
‘I’ll knock when we’re ready then, maybe half an hour?’
Maddie skipped back inside and started rummaging through her cupboards for kid-friendly snacks to take with her. She pulled a tub of hummus from the fridge and started cutting carrots and cucumber into neat little batons, humming while she chopped.
With plenty of time to spare, she was ready, coat on, snack bag packed and waiting, her fingers tapping against the countertop. It was closer to forty-five minutes later when she finally heard the knock.
Maddie opened the door and immediately crouched down to say hello to Ben, who was strapped into his pushchair, the straps pulled tight so that it looked like his yellow raincoat was swallowing him whole.
‘Hi, do you remember me? I’m Maddie, but you can call me Mads if you like?’
He blinked at her and said nothing, but she noticed he was clutching the new car she had bought him and her chest puffed out.
‘Right, let’s go,’ Jade said, then noticed the bag. ‘What’s in there?’
‘Snacks, you know, in case we decide to sit for a bit.’
‘Well, I have to have him back by twelve.’
Maddie tried to disguise her disappointment. ‘Oh, why?’
Jade looked away. ‘You know, his nap and stuff…’
‘Ok, well, let’s see. You never know, he might nap in his pushchair if we’re out longer?’
‘He’s a creature of habit, our Ben. He likes his own bed and can be a right little shit if he doesn’t get enough sleep,’ she said quickly. ‘Aren’t you, Benny Boy?’ She reached down to rub his cheek.
‘Ok, no problem,’ Maddie replied, but she was disappointed. She had had the whole morning planned in her head, could imagine them feeding the ducks, having a picnic, chasing a ball around.
Jade was already heading towards the door to the street. Maddie slammed her front door behind her and rushed over to hold the outside door open for Jade.
‘Oh, and don’t be too surprised if he doesn’t say much to you. He’s not much of a talker. I’m trying to get him to use his words, but… you know… they do what they want when they want,’ Jade said.
‘What does his nursery school say?’ They were out in the noise of the street now, with cars driving past and people wandering around with cups of coffee in one hand and phones in the other.
‘Oh, you know …’ she replied vaguely. They passed a coffee shop and Jade said, ‘Fancy a coffee?’
‘Why not? I’ll get it.’
‘No, you stay here with him. Whatcha want?’
‘Americano, please – no sugar. Here, take this. My treat.’ Maddie rummaged in her purse for some money.
Jade took the proffered twenty-pound note without argument and disappeared into the coffee shop. Maddie crouched down to Ben again and said, ‘Do you like your car?’
He looked at her with wide eyes, then at the car in his hand and gave an almost imperceptible nod of his head.
‘Good, I’m glad. When we get to the park, maybe you can show me how fast it goes.’ He blinked. ‘Can you say Maddie? Maddie?’ He blinked again. She reached out to push his hair from his eyes and he shrank away from her. She hesitated, then pulled her hand back. Too much, too soon. She didn’t want him to be frightened of his Aunty Maddie.
She really needed him to like her.
‘So did you have fun with your daddy?’
He whispered something that was carried away in the street noise. She leant closer. ‘Sorry?’
‘Mumma,’ he said.
‘No, Daddy yesterday. Did you have fun with Daddy?’ she repeated.
‘Mumma,’ he said again.
Jade’s shadow fell over her. ‘He doesn’t like talking about his dad, it makes him upset.’ She looked annoyed.
Maddie shot to her feet. ‘Oh! I’m so sorry.’
‘Come on, let’s go.’ Jade shoved the coffee at her. Maddie could see a brown paper bag from the coffee shop poking out from Jade’s handbag. She must’ve bought a cookie for Ben. She waited for Jade to give her back the change from the coffees, which wouldn’t have cost twenty pounds, but nothing was forthcoming. Jade gripped the pushchair with her free hand and steered it into the pedestrians, the atmosphere between them suddenly crisp.
Maddie followed Jade like a faithful puppy, chattering about the weather, the shops they passed, the people around them, until they reached the gate to the park. She could hear herself overcompensating for the lack of conversation coming from Jade, but couldn’t stop herself from babbling. Maddie held the gate open for Jade, who pushed past her without a word. Maddie had to jump backwards to avoid the wheels of the pushchair running over her foot.
The grass was wet underfoot, with leaves mushed into the ground. A small, black dog ran over to them, sniffing at the pushchair and wagging its tail. Ben smiled and reached out to touch it and Maddie smiled with him.
‘Hey there,’ Maddie said to the dog while bending down to let it sniff her hand. ‘You know, Ben, you should always let a dog sniff your hand first before reaching out to it – like this – so that it do
esn’t get frightened.’
Ben copied her and giggled as the dog licked his hand. She could feel Jade watching them quietly. The dog’s owner whistled from further up the path and it ran off, all flopping ears and lolling tongue. Ben followed it with his eyes, still smiling, and Maddie couldn’t help herself. She reached out and touched his cheek lightly, her heart aching.
‘You really like kids, don’t you?’
Maddie stood up quickly. ‘Yes, I do,’ she said with a sigh.
‘So why don’t you have any?’
Maddie hesitated, but if Jade had noticed her reticence, she didn’t retract her question. She just carried on staring at Maddie, waiting for an answer. ‘It’s complicated. We tried… for years,’ was all Maddie said.
‘Ah, Greg shooting blanks, was he? But wait, isn’t the new girlfriend pregnant? Oooh, is it not his?’ Her eyes lit up at the whiff of scandal.
‘It is his. He wasn’t at fault. I was.’ Maddie swallowed thickly and set off up the path towards the pond.
Jade followed, more animated now. ‘So what happened?’
‘What they call “unexplained infertility”. I don’t want to talk about it though.’
Jade eyed Maddie curiously, like she was a specimen in a jar, as though if she stared hard enough she could see what was wrong with her. It’s a look Maddie had seen on Greg’s face before.
‘Oh, look, Ben! There’s a beautiful swan!’ Maddie pointed at the water. Ben strained to get out of the pushchair, so she reached down and unclipped him. He darted up with youthful clumsiness in his little welly boots and toddled towards the water.
‘Careful! Not too close to the water!’ Maddie said and followed him, pleased to leave the conversation behind.
The cup of coffee was still hot in her hand and she sipped at it as she watched him. Jade came to stand next to her. She had the bakery bag in her hand and pulled a millionaire’s shortbread from it. Her eyes flicked over to Maddie and she said begrudgingly, ‘Want some?’
‘Er, no, thanks.’ Maddie wasn’t sure what to make of her rudeness. Maybe it had slipped Jade’s mind to return Maddie’s change, but it looked like she had bought herself a treat and nothing for anyone else, which was selfish and bad manners. Maddie certainly wouldn’t buy herself something in a bakery without getting another for whoever she was with – or for her son.
Jade saw the look on Maddie’s face and said around shortbread crumbs, ‘Oh, sorry, I would’ve got you one, but you don’t look like the cake-eating kind.’ She gestured at Maddie’s body, crumbs falling as she gesticulated at her. ‘You’re such a skinny arse. I swear I could snap you in half. That’s a compliment, by the way. Besides, you have to be really careful these days. Everyone is allergic to something or other.’ She carried on chewing.
‘I’m not allergic to anything. Greg is – a severe nut allergy. I always had to be careful. I just don’t really have much of an appetite – usually.’
Jade ignored the inflection. ‘Well, there you go, see? So Greg has an allergy, huh? Me, I think about food all the time. Food and fags – ha! Cigarettes, not gay people,’ she added unnecessarily.
Feeling annoyed, Maddie stared at the people around them. The mums with their small children chasing balls; dogs sniffing, digging and playing; runners huffing and puffing past, their breath like clouds. She breathed it all in, remembering why she liked coming here and wishing not for the first time that she could bring her own children.
‘Speaking of food, what’s in your picnic then?’ Jade coughed loudly, a hacking bark that vibrated straight through Maddie, making her teeth clench. Her initial excitement at the possibility of a friend in her building was starting to wear thin. Jade’s little habits were grating on Maddie’s nerves today – like how she chewed on the inside of her cheek when she wasn’t talking, her mouth twisting and gurning as she bit at herself, or the way she walked in small steps on her toes, bouncing along.
Maddie could feel the weight of the bag on her shoulder and was in two minds as to whether she should just head home, maybe take a longer walk through the park so that she could enjoy the fresh air.
Then Ben ran up to her, pointing and giggling at the swans, saying, ‘Maddie, Maddie, look!’ and her mood lifted instantly. Who cared if Jade was selfish and irritating? Ben had just called her by her name! The truth was if she wanted to spend time with Ben, she would have to be friends with Jade. Did her broodiness outweigh her annoyance?
Without a doubt, yes.
‘Shall we find somewhere to sit, Ben? Then you can feed the ducks with some of the bread I brought along,’ Maddie said, then turned to Jade. ‘I just brought a few snacks in case he got hungry,’ she said apologetically. ‘It’s nothing much. Just crisps, cucumber, you know…’ She saw a park bench around the other side of the pond. ‘There’s a bench over there.’
‘Ben, babe, we’re going to sit over there. Let’s go around that side, yeah?’ Jade started walking towards the bench. ‘I tell you what, Maddie, you’re a natural mother. You can look after Ben anytime.’
Maddie grinned. ‘Thanks. I brought wholemeal bread for him to feed the ducks,’ she said, digging in the bag. ‘You’re not supposed to feed them white bread. It’s bad for them apparently.’
‘Ducks with gluten issues. Who knew? Come on, Benny Boy.’
He trailed after them, his little feet kicking at the fallen leaves. Jade plonked herself down on the bench and sighed. ‘I’m shattered.’
Maddie realised then that maybe she was being hard on Jade. She was a single mother, after all, and it couldn’t be easy.
‘Yeah, you must be,’ Maddie said sympathetically, sitting down next to her. She pulled a bag of chocolate buttons from her bag and offer them to Jade. ‘Here. A little pick me up.’
‘Oooh, yeah. Thanks.’ Jade tore open the packet and dove right in.
‘Does Ben want anything? I have breadsticks, crisps…’
‘Crisps! Lush – what flavour? Don’t worry about Ben. If he’s hungry, he’ll say.’
‘Oh, ok.’
The snacks were for Ben, not Jade, but she was now digging in the bag looking for salt and vinegar crisps. She found a bag and Maddie watched her curiously as she held the packet up to her face and breathed in deeply while opening it, inhaling the salt and vinegar with relish. ‘God, I bloody love salt and vinegar crisps,’ she said. ‘Oh Jesus! Look at that annoying cow over there!’
Maddie’s eyes followed where Jade was pointing towards a middle-aged woman with a bag over her shoulder that said in gold lettering, ‘Oh no! Have I bought prosecco instead of milk again?’ Maddie wondered where she’d bought the bag because she liked it.
‘I hate women like that – who think it’s fun to carry slogan bags. She’s probably got loads of jumpers with stars on them and three pairs of white trainers,’ Jade scoffed.
Maddie didn’t comment, not least because she herself had three pairs of white trainers, with stars on them in various colours, and slogan jumpers galore. Jade had a way of holding a mirror up to Maddie, so that she could see what others saw – and Maddie didn’t necessarily like the reflection staring back. And yet Jade was completely unapologetic about herself. Maybe Maddie should be more like her, then she wouldn’t feel like the world’s biggest doormat sometimes. Lately she was starting to realise that she had spent too much time worrying about what others thought of her and had lost sight of who she was, what she even liked. She had a vague recollection of herself from before she met Greg, but then she’d put on a fancy dress costume of the perfect wife, with the sensible clothes and controlled mannerisms, and eventually found she couldn’t take it off again, like the zip had got stuck and there was no one there to help her out of it.
Jade was chewing loudly next to her with her mouth open, sucking the salt from her fingers. It was mildly repulsive to watch.
Maddie hadn’t realised that she was still staring at the woman across the pond, but the woman had noticed and was now stalking over to where they were sitting. With a sic
kening lurch, Maddie recognised her as she drew closer.
The woman was livid. ‘You.’ The word dripped from her scowling mouth.
Maddie jumped to her feet. She felt cold all over. ‘Look, I don’t want any trouble…’
‘You are supposed to stay away from me.’
‘I didn’t know you’d… I’m sorry.’
The woman turned to Jade and said in a quivering voice, ‘You need to keep an eye on your son when she’s around,’ then turned on her heel and stormed away towards the park gate.
‘What the hell?’ Jade said, her forehead crumpled in confusion.
‘Just a misunderstanding years ago…’ Maddie slumped back onto the bench, her legs shaking. She exhaled slowly and clasped her hands together tightly.
‘But what did she mean about keeping—’
Ben ran over then and interrupted them, saying, ‘I’m hungry.’
Jade hesitated, then said, ‘Here, Ben, pick something from the bag that lovely Maddie brought. She’s very kind, isn’t she?’
The way she said it made Maddie wonder if she was making a point.
‘There’s chocolate over there too,’ Maddie said to Ben, ignoring the side eye Jade was giving her.
He found the chocolate buttons, grabbed a bag of mini breadsticks and trotted away again.
A phone’s text message alert chimed and Maddie retrieved her phone from her bag to check it. It was a text from Greg. Her stomach dropped as she remembered what she had said to him yesterday. She put her phone back in her bag without reading it, her hands still shaking.
The silence stretched and twisted between them.
‘You can answer it. I don’t mind,’ Jade said.
