Anna

by Amanda Prowse

Theo looked at her quizzically. ‘Is that the alphabet game you mentioned that time in the lift? You’ll have to explain.’

  ‘Okay, so in here...’ She looked around the opulent sitting room. ‘I might do colours. A... apple green. B... blue. C... cream. D...’

  ‘Damson!’ He pointed at the sash on the rather grand-looking military gent sitting astride a horse in the painting above the fireplace.

  ‘Exactly! And I do that until I’ve worked my way through the alphabet. And I do it a lot.’

  ‘O-kaay, so do you do it out loud?’

  She was glad he hadn’t laughed. ‘Only if I’m on my own, but mostly I do it in my head. And I can carry the puzzle over to the next time I’m in the same situation, so say I’m in the sandwich shop and am doing fillings but am only able to get to E—’

  ‘Egg and cress, of course,’ he said.

  ‘Of course.’ She smiled. ‘Then the next day I’ll start with F.’

  ‘Are you doing it now?’ he asked sincerely.

  ‘No. I only do it when I need to and I don’t need to right now.’

  ‘Doesn’t it crowd your thoughts, get in the way?’

  She shook her head. ‘Not really. I’ve been doing it so long, it’s second nature, and as I said, I don’t do it all of the time.’

  ‘I see.’ He nodded. ‘Why do you do it?’

  Anna pictured herself and her mum in their tiny kitchen and Joe raging in the bedroom next door. ‘I want you to go round the room with your eyes and try to think of something in here for every letter of the alphabet. Don’t worry if you get the alphabet wrong, but do as many as you can! I’ll start you off. A...’

  She took a breath. ‘My mum told me it would be a good distraction, my alphabet game, and that when my thoughts were too loud or I felt afraid or I just wanted to pass the time, I should go through the alphabet and find things to match the letters. And she was right. By the time I get to Z, things have usually calmed a little and I’ve taken time to breathe.’ She grinned. ‘It’s even become part of my name! I was just plain old Anna Cole until my mum gave me Bee as a middle name so I could be ABC.’

  ‘It’s not the weirdest thing.’ He smiled. ‘I can give you weirder. Like...’ He looked up at the ceiling and exhaled, as if considering whether to confide in her or not. ‘When I told you the other night that I don’t like the dark, it’s a little more than that. I am a grown-up who is very afraid of the dark.’ He clicked his tongue and sipped his wine.

  ‘Me too.’ She tilted her head at him. ‘So I would do the alphabet game to try and distract me from the fear.’ She pictured herself under the blanket in the care home, her eyes screwed tightly shut.

  ‘Do you often feel afraid?’ he asked softly.

  ‘Less so now I’m older, I guess. My fears are different. I grew up very poor and I grew up mostly in care.’

  ‘I know this.’

  She saw his expression soften and liked that he was kind, empathetic. ‘Yes, but that’s kind of my starter for ten, reminding you where I’ve come from, setting the tone – so just let me get the rest of it out, okay?’

  ‘Okay.’ He pressed his lips together and held up his right palm.

  ‘My dad died quite recently,’ she began. Theo placed his hand loosely on her thigh; clearly it was as much support as he felt he could give without interrupting. ‘But loss isn’t a stranger to me, in fact it’s shaped me, shaped everything. I had a nice life when I was really little. Not a life full of stuff or money.’ She glanced again at the grand oil painting. ‘Things were hard for us, but I didn’t realise how poor we were because I was happy and I was loved. I was so loved.’ She smiled at this truth. ‘But now I’m older I can look back and see the little clues to just how tough it was for my mum. I remember being about five and feeling really mad because she made me eat a lamb chop with cabbage and carrots while she got to have toast and jam. God, I sulked! Pushed that lump of meat and those veg around the plate until she shouted at me, you know, really shouted, and I shoved it in my mouth. It didn’t occur to me that she could only afford enough meat for me and my brother Joe.’

  She felt Theo’s body stiffen beside her, whether through a misplaced sense of guilt or in distaste she didn’t know, but one thing she did know, it was important to give him the details, important he knew every bit of her, background and all.

  ‘That’s funny really,’ he said. ‘I don’t think my mother ever knew if I had eaten or not. There was more than the occasional night that I went to bed hungry. Didn’t know or didn’t care. Not sure which. Anyway, go on.’ He rolled his hand.

  She noted his wistful tone and was saddened by the comparison, unable to imagine having so much at your disposal but not feeding your child. ‘So those were my early years in Honor Oak Park: hard-up but happy. Just me and Mum and my brother Joe.’

  Her throat tightened at her next words, which were followed by a gulp of emotion. ‘Joe died too.’

  ‘Jesus!’ Theo shook his head.

  ‘I know, right? I’m a bundle of laughs with my terrible tales of how crap my life has been!’ She took another drink.

  ‘I... I didn’t mean to imply that. I was merely thinking how bloody awful it must have been for you.’

  It was ‘bloody awful’. She mimicked his rounded vowels in her head.

  The two sat staring into the fire, both mulling over what she’d just said. It was Anna who eventually broke the silence.

  ‘Joe was different.’ She pictured him again, this time lying on the sofa under a greasy sleeping bag. ‘He was almost the exact opposite of me, born with so much knowledge, happiness and sparkle and yet everything he did and saw seemed to erase a piece of him. And no matter how much we tried to hold him together, we were powerless. And then the last piece in his puzzle was me and that music box and the day the police came...’

  Theo pulled away and lifted her chin so she would look at him. It was as if he needed to see her expression to fully get the measure of her words. ‘What do you mean? What music box?’

  Anna realised she’d been rambling a little. She drained the last of her wine and set the glass to one side.

  ‘Joe was a heroin addict.’ She sniffed. ‘Actually, by the time he died, he was an anything addict, whatever he could get hold of, but heroin was his first love. Anyway, the police came to the flat and I had a music box he’d given me open on the bed. He only gave it to me because I made him, and if I hadn’t...’

  She paused, trying to gather her thoughts.

  ‘I won’t forget the way the police came into our home, looking around with their heads held high, confident, as if they were the ones who had a right to be there and not me. They picked things up, turned over cushions, poked through drawers, drawers where my mum had had her hand...’

  She sniffed up the tears that had gathered at the back of her throat.

  ‘Then they saw the music box and the woman called to her colleague and pointed and he grinned and she laughed and they picked it up and she said, “Where did you get this?” And I shrugged and didn’t know what to say. And the man snorted and looked at me like I was rubbish and he said, “As if we don’t know.” And they took it and left and...’

  She paused to catch her breath.

  ‘I’ve thought about it a lot, but it was that music box that linked Joe to a burglary where someone had got hurt. I think it was the last straw for him, the thing that tipped the scales. He hadn’t wanted me to have it – he was going to sell it, I guess, get rid of the evidence – but I begged and he gave in. And it was two days later that he... that he...’

  Her body folded. The wind had been knocked out of her.

  Theo bent forward and wrapped her in his arms. ‘It’s okay, Anna, it’s all okay.’

  She shook her head against his chest, clinging onto his shirt with her fingers tightly clenched, trying in vain to hold back the tide of distress that she’d kept at bay for as long as she could remember.

  ‘It’s not okay, it will never be okay!’ She sobbed. ‘Joe walked
into the house and I told him the police had been and he barely blinked, as if what I was saying was of no interest. He looked through me, like he didn’t know who I was, and I tried to use my mum’s soft voice that sometimes made him calmer, but it didn’t do anything. He was so thin and he smelt terrible and I thought of what my mum would say – “Wash, Joe! And for God’s sake clean your teeth.” And then I told him they had taken the music box and... that was the last time I saw him. He didn’t say anything, but I can see it now, him disappearing out of the front door in just his shirt, and the back of his jeans all baggy because his bum had vanished.’

  She took a massive breath and stared at the carpet. ‘He jumped, Theo! He jumped off the car park in town and he died! He jumped and he left me and I was just a little girl!’

  Her tears again interrupted the rhythm of her speech. ‘I think about him standing there and I wonder what he thought about as he looked down at the streets, the cars, I wonder if he thought of me. If he... If he forgave me. I didn’t know the music box was stolen! I begged him to let me have it and I could tell he wasn’t sure, but I pushed and he gave in because he loved me, but I should have hidden it. I didn’t know!’

  Anna gave in to the huge sobs that again rocked her body. She felt Theo tighten his grip around her shaking form, holding her close.

  ‘I don’t want to be on my own any more!’ She raised her voice. ‘I don’t want to feel like sticks on the river! Like I’m being carried along, clinging on for dear life and hoping I don’t drown.’

  ‘I’ve got you, Anna. I’ve got you!’

  ‘I’ve had enough, Theo. I’m tired. I’m so tired of being sad and being scared and lonely! So lonely!’

  He kissed the top of her scalp and rocked her until she fell into a sleep of sorts.

  *

  It was an hour later when she stirred. Theo finally let go of her and crept forward on all fours, grabbing logs from the fire basket and tossing them onto the embers. ‘I didn’t want to move and risk waking you.’ He looked back at her and she was touched by his considerateness.

  ‘I’m sorry. I hardly ever, in fact never go off like that. I think it’s a combination of wine, a long day and being in this place.’ She sat up straight and rubbed beneath her eyes, suspecting there would be more than just a smudge of mascara from all that crying.

  ‘And there was me hoping it was because we were breaking through your shell.’ He gave a small snort of laughter.

  ‘I think you know it is that too and I’m just trying to save face.’

  ‘But that’s just it, I don’t want you to save face. I want you to tell me everything.’ He looked at her in earnest.

  ‘God, I think that is just about everything.’

  Theo sat opposite her as she wrapped the blanket around her shoulders, clutching it to her from inside her cocoon.

  ‘I’ve never met anyone like you, Anna. I think you’re extraordinary, remarkable. Brilliant.’

  ‘I’m so not.’ She sniffed. ‘I am just very ordinary.’

  ‘But you are! I know blokes in the army who don’t have half your resilience, your strength. Most people would be broken, but not you – you’re calm, smart. I want to keep repeating the word “extraordinary”.’

  She let herself smile at the compliment. ‘I can’t pretend that I haven’t wondered whether it might just be easier to hide behind my grief my whole life, keeping everyone and everything at bay. But when I came out of care...’ She bit her lip, thinking of Shania – Shania then, full of life, and Shania a few years ago, homeless and hopeless – and shook her head. ‘When I came out of care, I had this... this incredible feeling that I had a choice. I didn’t want to be another cliché, a statistic, I wanted to live a life that might be considered a success. I suppose to kind of make up for my mum, whose time was cut so short. I mean, mid thirties, that’s no age, is it?’

  ‘No. It’s not.’

  ‘And that’s sort of how I’ve been – planning, working, but all the time looking for something.’

  ‘Or someone?’ he asked steadily.

  She nodded, feeling the bubble of anticipation build in her gut. Was he saying it was him? Was this actually happening? She gulped and decided to just get it all out. ‘I’ve realised that what I need, to... to sort of help heal the things that have happened to me, to my family, is... a proper family of my own.’ She studied her fingernails, which needed cutting. ‘Kids and everything...’

  There was a long pause, during which she heard Theo swallowing repeatedly. Anna mentally kicked herself. She’d pushed it too far. Stupid woman!

  ‘I had a pretty shitty childhood,’ Theo said, breaking the silence at last and scooting across the rug to sit next to her once again.

  ‘You did?’ She laid her hand on his arm.

  ‘Yes. Different to yours, of course, in just about every way. A solid home, a good school, for want of a better phrase.’ He snorted. ‘I guess from the outside it looked like I had everything, but... My parents were aloof, bloody rubbish in fact. I just wasn’t a priority and my father has this knack of making me feel...’

  She watched his face contort as he tried to locate the right word. ‘Making you feel what?’ she whispered.

  Theo shrugged. ‘Like I’m a fucking idiot, like there’s something wrong with me. And he really didn’t get it when I became so depressed at uni. No one did, not really. It was... complicated.’

  He clammed up then, clearly not ready to take it any further, and Anna understood that she shouldn’t press him. She was taken aback by the strength of emotion behind his words, by how deeply inadequate he seemed to feel, and by there being things that he wasn’t yet ready to share. He masked it well. Maybe they weren’t so different after all...

  ‘They bought you this house?’

  Theo pulled his head back on his shoulders. ‘Oh yes, they were always good at shelling out, writing cheques, but it’s no substitute for the feeling you’ve described of knowing you were so loved. I think I would have benefitted greatly from having someone who cared enough to teach me the alphabet game.’

  ‘I taught you the alphabet game.’ She wriggled closer and nuzzled her chin on his shoulder.

  ‘Yes, you did.’ He turned and kissed her scalp. ‘And actually I did have a mentor of sorts, for a while.’

  ‘Fishing-Fly Guy?’

  ‘Yes.’ He smiled. ‘I’m glad you remember. He was on the staff at my school, a sort of groundsman, a fisherman. He was a wonderful man. His name was Mr Porter.’

  Anna looked up at the unmistakeable sound of a stifled sob, which caught them both off guard. It was a night of high emotion, as if having raised the barrier to let joy and happiness in, every other emotion could come rushing at them too.

  ‘Oh, Theo! Oh, darling!’ She turned to him and kissed his face.

  ‘I’ve been lonely, Anna. Like you. Really lonely and afraid. You are the most wonderful thing that has ever happened to me.’ He reached for her and kissed her full on the mouth.

  ‘God, what are we like?’ She laughed through her sadness.

  ‘I love you, Anna. I love you.’

  She felt her laughter bubble to the surface. He had said it! He loved her! Someone as incredible as Theodore Montgomery loved her!

  ‘I love you too. I do, I really love you!’

  They fell against each other, laughing some more, giddy in the moment.

  ‘I always think you get the people in your life that you’re meant to. I think we’re meant to get each other.’ She smiled.

  ‘I think you’re right. Two weirdos together!’

  ‘Yes! Two weirdos with the lights left on.’

  ‘I think...’ Theo paused and reached for her hands, taking them both into his own. ‘I think we’ll get married and live here, together, just like this.’

  Anna couldn’t halt the flow of tears that ran down her cheeks. I’ve been so lonely too, so scared and I’m sick of trying to be brave...

  ‘Yes, Theo. I think we will get married and live here,
together, just like this.’

  Slowly he stood, pulled her up and guided her by the hand towards the staircase, towards a different life.

  *

  There was no way Anna could wait until she got back to Fulham to tell Fifi and Fox her news. She was bursting with it. As soon as the clock ticked round to 10 a.m. the next morning, the earliest acceptable time she could take her coffee break, she whizzed out to the café round the corner from Villiers House and laid her pad out on her favourite table.

  Fifi and Fox,

  I’ve never thought too much about material things, never thought it was that important. I figured if I loved you enough and made you laugh every day then that would bring you happiness (and me!). But I have to say that now I know that I’ll be able to get you all the things I didn’t have, it feels wonderful.

  I don’t mean ponies and gold, but you can eat meat every day and have new clothes bought just for you, and travel! Oh, the things we can do together and the places we will see...

  Your daddy is called Theodore Montgomery and he is a wonderful gentleman and I love him! I never ever want to lose this brilliant, brilliant happiness that I have right now – it makes my head spin so much that I have to hold onto something so I don’t fall over! I am in love with Mr Theodore Montgomery and he loves me right back and he is going to be the best dad in the whole wide world.

  And oh my goodness, when I get to hold you in my arms and gaze at you in the way my mum used to look at me, then I will begin a chapter in my life that I have been waiting for longer than I can say. My family! My very own little family!

  I want to be a mum; I want to be your mum. I want to have a noisy house full of people who don’t leave before they’re ready to, people who need me as much as I need them, people who are happy to be in my company – people who love me.

  My Fifi and Fox, I will always love you and I will always make you feel like there is nowhere in the world that you’d want to be other than by my side.

  I love you, I love you, I love you. I love the world right now and all because I am loved by my Theodore Montgomery.

  Mummy x