The Day I lost You

by Fionnuala Kearney

  Minutes later, Jess was back with two Costa coffees and two sandwiches. She handed him his. ‘One skinny cap, laced with three sugars. An irony all of its own.’

  Food-fuelled, she was talking again. They were talking again.

  ‘You know something? I get the primal thing, the unconditional love. I’ve felt it more for Finn lately,’ he told her. ‘His mother has left and I feel the need to make it up somehow. I feel I’d do anything to make him happy.’

  Jess turned around to face him from her passenger seat as much as her seatbelt would allow. ‘I felt that always. When Doug left … Who knows, maybe that’s why I’ve never let anyone else in? We were enough, the two of us – just Anna and me.’

  Theo decided to bite the bullet. There was something in this woman that made him want to confront things rather than ignore them. He swallowed hard. ‘You know about the blog,’ he said.

  She glanced back at him, touched her throat. ‘You were listening …’

  ‘Yes.’ He chose not to reveal he had, at first, been glued to the gap in the doors. ‘I know that Finn sent you the link. I’m sorry. He’s sorry, he should never have done it.’

  ‘How much did you hear?’

  ‘Not much. A lot of it was muffled.’

  ‘I’m glad Finn did what he did. Did you read any of it, the blog?

  He nodded. ‘Some of it.’

  ‘She’s a bloody revelation, that daughter of mine!’ Her laugh was sarcastic. ‘And it turns out my father knows more than he ever pretended. Decided not to tell me.’

  Theo paled. That was something he didn’t know. The urgent trip to the Lakes suddenly made sense.

  Jess began to cry softly. Silent tears flowed from her eyes and she scrabbled in her bag for a tissue. He reached in his pocket and handed her a hanky and she looked at it and laughed and cried all at once.

  ‘Don’t cry, Jess. Why are you crying?’ He sensed it was a stupid question but asked it anyway.

  ‘I’m crying because I was a shit mother,’ she said. ‘I let her down. Somewhere along the line, some day, somewhere, I must have let her down.’

  Theo bit his bottom lip as she shook her head, stared out of the window and blew her nose into the hanky. ‘I was a shit mother and now I don’t know what to do.’ She sobbed in a way where her breath caught in her throat, and when she whipped her head around, looked hard at him, eyeball to eyeball, he gripped the steering wheel. ‘What do I do, Theo,’ she asked, ‘when there’s no one left unscathed and there’s no one left to trust?’

  42. Jess

  It is Saturday, 14 March, Rose’s sixth birthday, and we’re in the back garden planting a Christmas tree. She is so excited, it might as well be 25 December. I just want to vomit into the hole we’re digging.

  ‘Nanny,’ she says, wielding the small rake, as I use the larger spade to carve out the hole. ‘I love this tree. It feels like Mummy’s present for me.’

  I haven’t discussed the tree’s provenance with her, so I just nod, force my foot to put pressure on the shovel and loosen another pile of earth. It takes every ounce of energy I have to lift the tree from its tub and place it in the ground. Together we pack the soil back in. I do it with my feet and Rose thumps it with the back of her rake.

  I leave her doing that and I sit down nearby on the edge of the fading deck. I run a hand over its surface – it needs painting. My hand is shaking and I use the other one to still it. Be still, I tell myself. All around me, everything needs painting. It’s all looking tired. Like me. Be still …

  My mother is singing ‘Happy Birthday’ down the phone to Rose and she squeals with delight when it’s finished. She is beyond excited about the party and I am beyond petrified – all those children, here in the house; so many people here in the house.

  Rose runs off, Pug circling her legs, barking madly. I put one hand over my ear and try to talk to Mum.

  ‘How’re things up there?’

  We have spoken a few times this week, agreed not to discuss the other day. Things are calmer, but though I’ve had time to think and am less emotional, I’ve been plunged back into uncertainty and have no idea how to plough ahead. I’m also mindful of what I said to Sean. If he takes me up on my offer regarding Rose, I may be moving much closer to my parents. I may be leaving this house that I love. I may be living another life. Theo flashes across my brain and the idea of running away from him doesn’t seem a bad one either, when I hear a loud crash from the kitchen followed by a louder, ‘Nanny!’

  I run in the direction of the noise.

  Rose is standing there with Pug in her arms. ‘She made me do it, I was running away and then I knocked into the thing and it fell.’

  There’s a glass vase that was full of flowers in pieces on the floor. Anna bought it for me one year in Spain. She had fallen in love with it, making sure I knew how difficult it had been to carry back in her hand luggage. It had meant she had no room for booze at all and did I understand that? I loved that vase. I bend down and pick up the sodden pieces. Rose bends down to help.

  ‘No, darling, keep back. I don’t want you to get cut. Keep hold of Pug until I clear it up, will you?’

  She nods, her big eyes wide and worried. ‘It’s just a vase, Rose, don’t worry.’ And it is, it’s just a vase, I realize, as I get the dustpan and some kitchen roll to soak up the water. I have the memories; nothing can break them.

  By two o’clock, my nerves are frayed, and that’s before a single child arrives. Rose is behaving as if she has mainlined on soft drinks, even though she hasn’t touched one yet. She is wired with excitement.

  Theo and Finn are first to arrive. I take Finn aside. ‘Don’t worry. You did nothing wrong,’ I whisper in his ear, aware that he has been avoiding me all week in school. I give them both jobs. Finn is blowing up the last of the balloons and Theo is putting the Rice Krispie buns that Rose and I made this morning out on plates. I’m unwrapping ten pizzas ready for the conveyor belt system in and out of the oven. When the doorbell rings, it’s Leah that’s first to arrive and for a brief, sick, second I worry if Rose actually gave her party invites out. Focus … The children will be here.

  On cue, about six children walk together up my path. Behind them, Gus follows, carrying what looks like a cheese and meat platter. I nod at him. ‘For the grown-ups,’ Leah says, already behind me.

  Within an hour the place is mayhem and I’m counting down to going-home time. Thankfully six or seven of the children didn’t arrive. I don’t care why; all I know is my house has children coming out of the crevices. I’ve told them to stay downstairs, but inevitably they’re all fascinated with loos and they’ve been in the bathroom and in my tiny en suite. I send Theo to round them up.

  ‘Jesus.’ Leah is watching the proceedings. ‘There are times, quite a few of them actually, where I’m really glad I didn’t have kids of my own. I’m not sure I’m cut out for this stuff.’

  I’m watching Gus doing card tricks with a few of them; they’re engrossed in the magic of it. ‘How did you do that?’ one of them shrieks. Theo’s out in the back garden on the phone, pacing up and down. Whoever he’s talking to, it looks serious. When the door rings again, I see Rose stop what she’s doing and stare back down the hallway. I have everything crossed for her. Outside, Sean is standing on the step, bearing an enormous package. He looks so much better than when I saw him last week; looks like he’s slept, is dressed in pressed chinos and a sweater.

  ‘Daddy!’ Rose runs towards him, grabs his legs, and he bends down to her.

  ‘Is it my beautiful girl’s sixth birthday today?’ She nods dramatically; her finger goes in her mouth as she eyes the package. ‘Let’s bring it up to your bedroom for now and we can open it together later when your friends have gone.’ Her little face is at first disappointed and then she looks at her father and beams.

  ‘Thank you.’ I mouth the words as he climbs the stairs, resist the urge to run after him and hug him. He’s here, and that’s all I want for Rose today.

&nbs
p; ‘He came,’ Leah whispers when I get back to the kitchen.

  ‘He did.’

  ‘Good on him,’ she nods.

  ‘He’s a good man.’ I haven’t told Leah the full details of my conversation with Sean, just told her that I’d apologized and asked him to come to the party. Theo is back in the room, pulls the rear door shut. ‘It’s nice out there when you’re in the sun,’ he says. ‘It’s warming up. Maybe we’ll have a good summer.’

  But I can’t think that far ahead as I scan the room, hear Sean’s tread on the stairs, and take the whole scene in. I can only get through today, and today I have a pain where my heart is. Today, I miss my daughter with a passion.

  We do the singing of the song. All of the children join in. I hear Theo’s singing voice for the first time ever and it’s Anna’s I miss. She should be here. She should just be here.

  I’m washing some plates up for the pizza and Gus is suddenly beside me, a tea towel in his hand. ‘Thanks,’ I say, and hand them to him.

  ‘No problem.’

  Everyone is down the other end of the room or in the living room with Leah and Sean. Some, including Rose, have even made it out into the garden with Theo and Finn. At first, I stare out of the window at Theo as I speak.

  ‘I know,’ I tell him.

  ‘Huh?’ he says, a plate poised in his hand.

  ‘I know, Gus. I know about you and Anna.’ My voice cracks on the last word.

  He says nothing, puts the plate down slowly, and grips the edge of the work surface with both of his hands. His eye-line follows mine and lands on Rose.

  ‘Don’t do it,’ he says. ‘Please.’

  ‘What time is it? Is it nearly chucking-out time?’ Leah comes into the kitchen and stares longingly at the oven clock. ‘You all right? You look pale?’

  ‘Yes, fine, just this cold. Not quite time yet, I’m afraid,’ I tell her. ‘Just pizzas to go.’ There are four already in the oven and I line up the next lot. ‘Do you want to call them in, Leah? Gus, you can start slicing this lot up, cut them small.’ I slide them along towards him, hand him a knife and a bunch of paper plates.

  ‘Right,’ he says.

  ‘Kids!’ Leah bellows at the top of her voice. ‘Pizza! Come and get it.’ Then she stands aside, her hands in the air, her face creased as the hordes descend.

  Sean is eating pizza standing at my breakfast bar for two. ‘I’ve got a tenant for the house,’ he says, and my tummy leaps inside. ‘So, I’ll actually be moving within the next fortnight.’

  I can only nod. My right hand is wiping the worktop next to him, my left is wiping my brow. I am sweating bricks and feel awful.

  ‘I’ve thought about what you said,’ he continues. ‘I’ve been thinking about nothing else the last few days.’ He eyeballs me as I near him. ‘I love my little girl and I want to stay in her life. I think she needs me in her life.’

  I drop the cloth and throw my arms around him. My eyes squeeze shut and relief floods through my body. I feel his arm on my back, cautious but still returning this very unusual embrace of ours. As I open my eyes, I see Gus watching from the hall.

  ‘Thank you,’ I whisper to Sean.

  ‘Look, what you do is up to you.’ Sean faces me. ‘But, what you said, what you said about you both possibly being nearer? That would be great. It would be great for my parents too. They’re in shock, but they love her and always will.’

  ‘It must have been awful for them.’ As I speak, I’m aware my hand has gone to my heart which is beating wildly.

  ‘They’d love her nearer them but if you both stay here, that’s ok too – I’ll just need a bed when I come to visit Rose.’

  I take his hand in mine. ‘You will always be welcome in my home, Sean, wherever that might end up being.’

  With the children gone, the adults plus Finn eat the remaining pizza, tuck into Leah’s amazing platter and have a well-deserved drink. I stand to the side, there but separate, unable to stomach breaking bread with this man. Leah has taken Rose into the front room to give her the present and I watch from the doorway.

  Rose is in awe of the memory box. She has run her tiny hands over the picture inside the lid; trembles slightly as she holds some of its contents as Leah explains what the box and each thing inside it means. Rose, the patterned, scented heart in her hand, throws her arms around Leah, tells her that it’s her ‘bestest present’. My own heart slows its rapid beat as I watch the scene. Pug, who has decided she’s bored with proceedings, grabs hold of the Mars bar and runs away with it.

  ‘Noooo!’ Rose squeals, but she is laughing as she chases her.

  Back in the kitchen, Theo is somehow driving Sean home. I don’t ask how or why. Today I am going with whatever the flow dictates. Leah yawns. ‘Kids are exhausting. I’m knackered.’ She nuzzles into her husband’s neck. ‘Better get home and deal with your little darling.’

  Gus looks away.

  ‘How’s that going? What’s it like having your daughter actually living with you, Gus?’ I can’t help myself, can’t resist the dig.

  ‘She’s all right,’ Leah replies for him. ‘It’ll all settle in time, won’t it, love?’

  He nods. When I look at him today, I can’t bear it. I think of how proud Leah was when she brought him home to meet Anna and me for the first time and of how quickly they had got married afterwards. I was so happy for her. She had taken a long time to find someone she felt she could live a lifetime with and I have – way before this moment in time – worked out that only a year after them marrying, Anna was carrying his child. I feel queasy, sick with the knowledge that could destroy what’s left of my family.

  Since talking to Dad, since him revealing the truth that he had seen them together, known about the affair; since promising not to do anything that will hurt Leah, my mind is wracked with images of Gus and Anna together. I’ve had to close my eyes every time it happens because it’s like an assault on my senses. It’s such a physical picture. I’m imagining them making love; him telling her he loves her and then going home to Leah. As he stands to go now, avoiding my eye-line, I just feel torn and saddened by the whole ugly mess.

  Rose is building a Disney-like castle in the middle of the room, Sean’s present to her. ‘A castle for his princess,’ he said. Before he leaves, she asks him to help her to hang the silver star from Leah’s memory box on top of the Christmas tree outside. Her thumb is planted in between her lips as she says a sleepy goodbye to her daddy and waves him away. Leah and Gus kiss my cheek before leaving. I try not to recoil from his touch, thank them for their help. Theo, with Finn and Sean already on the driveway, kisses my cheek too, then whispers in my ear. ‘Can I come back later?’

  I hesitate for just a moment. This should stop before it starts. I shouldn’t get involved. And, God help me, Anna flashes before my eyes and I wonder how many times she might have had the same thought but for different reasons. And God help me because I nod. With a small jerk of my head, I tell him to come back later. As I watch the cars drift away, I’m consumed with one thought. How am I ever going to un-know what I now know?

  When Theo arrives at nine o’clock, I ask him to hold me. We squeeze into the tatty sofa and he does just that. I don’t talk; I let him fill the space between us. His arms tighten around me and they are what I need tonight. Strangely, with his arms around me, I feel I can tackle anything, as though I’m finally capable of making decisions.

  And I’m really going to miss him.

  43. Anna

  Raw Honey Blogspot 01/12/2014

  Rose is not me. ROSE IS NOT ME! I tell Mama this all the time but she still seems to think we’re one and the same. It pisses me off and, because of other shit going on, I’ve been feeling unsettled, so tonight I touched on the subject of Rose and me moving out. That perhaps I didn’t have to save up for a deposit to buy? Maybe it might make more sense for us to rent something small nearby, just the two of us.

  God we had a row.

  It seems to be the week for it …


  One like we’ve never had before. She lost it – ranting about giving up a job that she loved in the surgery to work part-time in a school so she could look after Rose. She did that. Although I never asked her to. I do appreciate it and I’m grateful, really, and told her so – but there’ll come a time when Rose and I have to move on. I’m twenty-four years old and I think I’m ready.

  She yelled at me that that was good. Good that I’m ready and hopefully I’ve got childcare sorted because if I thought she was running to wherever it would be that I moved to twice a day, I had another think coming. Right. Consider me told. Then she yelled at me that I never think things through – that I jump first and think later. Yep. Right again.

  She didn’t like it when I talked back, that I considered out loud I might have other options, even though I know I don’t. She didn’t like it when I told her that her ‘unconditional love’ felt pretty laden with fucking conditions.

  Comment: Sideycrab

  God, she sounds like a nightmare! I’d move on if I were you, Honey-girl.

  Reply: Honey-girl

  She’s all right. I love her to bits and she does want what’s best for me. It’s just she’s not always right about what’s best for me.

  Comment: Snoopblah16

  If you’re still seeing your married lover, things would be easier if you moved away. I mean it might be easier to see him, but you have a child and it sounds like she’s close to your mother. At some point you have to move on but I’d be careful about upsetting your mother when she’s your route to the best, and also free, childcare. Rent, bills etc – all EXPENSIVE.

  Reply: Honey-girl