Loose Connections

by Rosemary Hayes

  She’s going to kill someone if she goes on like this.

  She jumped the next set of traffic lights and missed the turning.

  ‘You’ll have to turn round, Gran. You missed the turning.’

  She looked across at him, taking her eyes off the road. ‘Eh?’

  ‘GRAN!’

  She looked back at the road and slammed on the brakes again; she missed the car in front by a centimetre.

  ‘PLEASE, Gran! Please be careful.’

  She was frowning. ‘Which way?’ she said.

  ‘You need to turn round.’

  Immediately she started to turn.

  ‘Not now Gran! Wait until there’s a. . .’

  Too late. She was already doing a U-turn into a stream of traffic. Jake closed his eyes and tensed up for the inevitable collision. But, although there were more horns and screeching brakes, she made it, and Jake slowly opened his eyes again.

  ‘For God’s sake Gran!’

  She seemed really jumpy, so Jake tried to keep quiet after that. For the rest of the journey she drove more slowly, peering anxiously out through the windscreen.

  By the time they’d reached the hospital, Jake had made up his mind. He’d have to let her drive home but after that, he’d hide the keys. He couldn’t risk it. She mustn’t drive the car again – ever. Somehow they’d just have to manage without it.

  When they finally drew up in the hospital car park Jake relaxed his taut muscles and unclenched his fists. He turned to her.

  ‘Gran, you shouldn’t be driving,’ he said quietly.

  She switched off the engine and looked straight at him.

  ‘You’re turning into a right old woman, Jake,’ she said crossly.

  Jake flushed with anger. ‘And you’re turning into a bloody boy racer!’ he yelled at her.

  Gran didn’t seem that shocked. She just looked straight ahead. Then she started to laugh and, after a moment, Jake joined in.

  They got out of the car still shaking with laughter.

  What do I do with her? Part of her is still there; part of her is still my feisty, funny old Gran.

  They walked slowly towards the hospital entrance. Gran reached for Jake’s hand and held it tight. ‘I hate hospitals,’ she said fiercely.

  ‘Because of Grandad?’ asked Jake. Jake’s grandad had died in hospital after a long illness.

  She looked at him and frowned, her face all vague again. ‘Who?’

  Jake stared at her. This was getting really bad. He knew he had to tell someone. But not Mum. What had Dad said just before he left for America?

  “Try not to worry Mum about anything Jake. The medics say she mustn’t have any stress, so if you or Gran have any problems, tell me – don ‘t bother Mum.”

  ‘OK, but we’ll be fine. There won’t be any problems.’ He’d said it so confidently.

  But if I tell Dad, he’s sure to come home early. I can’t ask him to leave the training course halfway through.

  ***

  They took the lift to the fourth floor. There were lots of people and it was a tight fit. Some were clutching bunches of flowers, some were loaded down with bags. Some talked and laughed with one another and others stood silently, eyes cast down. Jake had bought some magazines and chocolates for Mum from the supermarket and stuffed them into a big plastic bag full of her clean clothes. Last week Mum had given the clothes to Gran to wash, but she’d forgotten, so Jake had put them through the machine. He’d hated doing it – felt embarrassed handling his mum’s things – but he knew she’d ask questions if her clothes weren’t washed.

  As they came into the ward, Jake gave the plastic bag to Gran.

  ‘What’s this?’

  ‘Mum’s clothes,’ he muttered. ‘The ones she gave us to wash.’

  Gran frowned. ‘Did we wash them?’

  Jake nodded. ‘Yep. They’ll all done.’

  Gran’s face relaxed.

  Mum was sitting in a chair beside her bed, busy working on her laptop on a table in front of her.

  She’s keeping the family afloat. Will she stop working so hard once Dad starts the new job?

  Her head was bent and she didn’t hear them approach, so Jake was able to watch her for a few seconds before she saw them. She looked really well. Her long dark hair was glossy and her face had more colour in it now.

  Surely this time it will be OK?

  Twice before, Mum had had a miscarriage. The first time, he’d been too young to understand what was going on. But the second time – three years ago – he remembered Mum being rushed into hospital and coming back home looking miserable, pale and quiet with all the sparkle gone out of her eyes.

  She glanced up and saw them, and her face lit up. She pushed the table away and held out her arms.

  ‘Jake!’

  Jake stumbled forward into her arms and hugged her fiercely.

  She laughed and pushed him away, but kept holding one of his hands. ‘Careful, love, you’ll squash the baby.’

  He looked down at her swollen tummy.

  ‘Is everything OK?’

  She nodded. ‘Yes. Everything’s fine. They’re really pleased with me.’

  Jake twisted round. ‘Gran’s got your washing for you.’

  His mum put out her free hand and took the bag from Gran.

  ‘Thanks for doing all that,’ she said. ‘How are you both?’

  ‘We’re fine, aren’t we, Gran?’

  Please recognise Mum. Please don’t say anything stupid.

  He watched Gran’s face.

  She’s trying so hard to remember.

  Then Gran smiled. She bent forward and dropped a kiss on Mum’s head and patted her tummy.

  ‘Is the baby kicking?’

  Mum put her hands across her belly. ‘Kicks all the time. I think we’ve got another footie player in here, Jake.’

  Jake grinned. ‘I’ll teach him when he’s big enough.’

  ‘Who says it’s going to be a boy?’

  ‘Sure to be,’ said Jake.

  Gran and Jake sat on Mum’s bed and Jake handed round the chocolates. Jake did all the talking, worried that Gran would say something weird.

  ‘Hey, hey, slow down, Jakey. I want to hear how your gran is, too!’

  Gran connected. ‘Oh, I’m OK. Jake’s a big help.’

  ‘What about Irene? Is she being a help too?’

  Gran raised her eyes to the ceiling. ‘Her-next-door?’

  Mum smiled. ‘She means well.’

  ‘Huh!’ said Gran.

  ‘She’s got her own troubles,’ said Mum quietly. ‘With Kenny and . . . well . . . other things.’

  ‘Huh!’ said Gran again.

  Mum sat back and put her hands behind her head. ‘It’s good to have someone to talk to. I know I shouldn’t complain, but it’s so boring. The other people in the ward are nice, but we’ve not got much to say to each other. And the doctors and nurses are always too busy to chat.’

  After a while, Jake could sense that Gran was getting restless. She was crossing and uncrossing her legs and shifting around on the bed.

  ‘I need the toilet,’ she said suddenly.

  Mum looked surprised. ‘Well, you know where it is.’

  She has no idea where it is. She’s completely forgotten.

  ‘Yes, yes. I remember,’ said Gran. She got up and started walking to the other end of the ward, away from the exit.

  Jake followed her and took her hand.

  ‘It’s this way, Gran,’ he whispered, leading her out of the ward and showing her the toilet door.

  ‘I’ll come back and get you in a bit.’

  When he went back to her bed, Mum was frowning.

  ‘Is Gran OK, Jake? Only she seems a bit vague.’

  Try not to worry Mum about anything.

  ‘I think she had a bad night. She’s just tired, that’s all.’

  ‘But she seemed confused . . . you know, about the toilet.’

  ‘No, honest, Mum, she’s OK.’ He hesitated. ‘Sh
e forgets things sometimes – but nothing important. Just when she’s tired. We’re OK. Don’t worry about us.’

  Mum took his chin in her hand and forced him to look at her.

  ‘Are you sure?’

  ‘Sure I’m sure. Trust me. I’m on the case.’ He grinned.

  Mum released his chin and smiled. ‘Gran’s sense of direction’s always been crap,’ she said.

  Jake stood up. ‘I’ll just go and check she’s not turned the wrong way out of the toilet, then.’

  ***

  When they left, Jake glanced out of the big plate glass windows opposite the lift and saw the whole town spread out beneath him. So many people scurrying about like ants, each with their own worries and their own secrets. And so many cars and lorries reduced to the size of toys, speeding along the streets.

  His jaw was tense from smiling. From keeping up a front. From saving Gran from doing or saying anything too daft.

  And now they had to get back home.

  They were alone in the lift this time. He turned to Gran.

  ‘Please be careful driving home, Gran. Don’t go too fast.’

  Suddenly she swung round and stared him full in the face.

  ‘Shut up! Stop it! Just stop it, will you!’

  Jake was too surprised to answer and they travelled down in silence. When the lift doors opened, Gran marched out.

  She won’t be able to find the car.

  He trailed behind her as she strode into the car park. There weren’t many cars parked there and she found theirs right away. She fished in her bag for the keys and unlocked the doors.

  They didn’t speak on the way home – until Gran took a wrong turn.

  ‘The other way, Gran,’ said Jake quietly.

  She stopped the car and did a U-turn. Fortunately there wasn’t much traffic about. She looked at him and smiled.

  ‘I know,’ she said. ‘Just testing.’

  He laughed, and some of the tension in his muscles ebbed away.

  As Gran turned into their street, Jake glanced over at the big house right at the end. The ‘For Sale’ sign was still there.

  Then he looked further up the street to his house. He half-expected to see the girl still sitting on his wall, swinging her legs. But there was no one there.

  He made sure that Gran had switched off the engine and put on the handbrake before he clambered out of the car. He stood beside it, stretching and yawning.

  That journey’s taken years off my life.

  Gran was still sitting in the driving seat, so he went round and opened her door. He put his hand in and undid her seat belt. ‘Come on, Gran,’ he said, giving her a heave.

  She frowned, then she struggled out.

  ‘Ow. I’m so. . .’

  ‘Stiff?’

  She nodded. ‘Stiff,’ she muttered. ‘Very stiff’.’

  Walking up the path to the front door, Jake checked his mobile. As he fumbled in his pocket for the key, he turned back.

  ‘Can Tom come over for tea, Gran?’

  She looked worried. ‘I’d best go shopping, then.’

  Jake shut his eyes and took a deep breath. ‘No need, Gran,’ he said. ‘We’re all stocked up. Remember? We went to the supermarket this morning.’

  She looked at him as though she’d not heard.

  Jake went into the house and she followed him through to the kitchen. He opened the fridge.

  ‘Look, Gran. We’ve got loads of food for tea.’

  ‘Tea?’

  How can she forget so quickly?

  ‘Yes, Gran. Tom’s coming for tea.’

  ‘All right, love.’ But she was still frowning.

  She sat down in one of the kitchen chairs and took her shoes off. Jake looked at her. She suddenly looked tired and old and he felt a twinge of fear.

  ‘Shall I make you a cuppa, Gran?’

  She nodded, and smiled.

  Maybe asking Tom over wasn’t such a good idea. Jake scowled, suddenly feeling defiant. But, hell, why not? He was sick of babysitting Gran. And anyway, she wouldn’t have to do anything. They’d look after themselves.

  When Tom arrived, they went straight out into the garden and kicked a ball around until they were both panting, then they sank down by the fence beside one another, hunkering down into a squat.

  ‘This grass is brilliant,’ said Tom. ‘From down here you can’t even see over the top. It’s like a jungle.’

  Jake shrugged. ‘Gran’s not doing any gardening,’ he said.

  ‘Doesn’t matter. It’s great like this.’

  ‘Mm.’

  But it’s not great. It’s all wrong. Everything’s wrong.

  For a while they didn’t speak. Tom twirled the football around in his hands and hummed quietly to himself. There was a faint buzzing of bees in the flower beds and the leaves of the apple tree shook as a blackbird flew out, breaking the silence with a throaty cry of alarm.

  Jake sat very still. He was beginning to feel light-headed. He glanced across to the other side of the garden and blinked. The climbing roses on the fence seemed to be closing in on him and again he sensed another presence – not Tom but someone unseen. He felt as though he was observing his body from somewhere up above himself, even though his stiff legs were telling him he was still squatting against the fence.

  Poor Gran. P’raps this is how she feels all the time. Sort of trapped in her head, half-here, half-somewhere else.

  He knew Tom had said something, but he couldn’t make out the words.

  ‘What?’

  ‘I said that I’d talked to my mum about the footie. . . Hey, are you OK, mate? You look funny.’

  ‘Yeah, I’m fine. Just felt a bit dizzy.’

  Tom peered at him. ‘You sure?’

  Jake nodded. ‘Yeah. Go on.’

  ‘I told Mum about you not going to the footie course and she said you can come with us if you like. She’ll take you there and back every day.’

  Jake focused on Tom. ‘It’s not that,’ he said slowly. ‘It’s not just getting there.’

  ‘So? What’s the problem?’

  Jake grabbed at a stalk of the long grass and started to chew it.

  ‘I told you. I’m scared of leaving Gran on her own,’ he mumbled, staring down at his trainers.

  ‘What d’you mean? She’s OK when you’re at school, isn’t she?’

  Jake shook his head. ‘Not really. And she’s getting worse. Every day she’s a bit worse.’

  ‘But she’s just driven to the hospital and back. Surely, if she was. . . Well, surely she couldn’t do that if she was. . .’ He trailed off.

  Jake turned on him.‘You don’t know anything,’ he shouted. ‘You weren’t in the car with her. You don’t understand. She bloody nearly killed us both. It’s . . . the whole Gran thing – it’s doing my head in.’

  The silence between them was longer this time.

  ‘You should tell someone then, if you’re that worried,’ muttered Tom. Jake turned to face him, his face red and angry. ‘Just shut up! Stop going on at me, will you.’

  Tom didn’t reply and Jake added, more quietly. ‘It’s not for much longer. When Dad comes back, we’ll fix it.’

  Tom got slowly to his feet and threw the ball into the middle of the garden. ‘Let’s climb the tree and spy on Kenny.’

  Jake shook his head.

  ‘Aw, come on. It’ll be fun!’

  ‘I don’t want to, OK? I don’t feel like it.’

  I shouldn’t have said that to Irene.

  ‘Come on! He might be peeing in the garden again!’

  ‘No,’ said Jake, louder this time. He turned away from Tom. ‘He can’t help the way he is.’

  ‘Hey, what’s all this with the loving Kenny bit? You usually call him a great fat moron.’

  Jake was silent.

  Tom did a bit of shadow boxing with an imaginary opponent. ‘OK, so what are we going to do, then?’

  Jake put his head in his hands.

  Tom sighed. ‘Shall I go home?�
��

  Jake struggled to his feet. ‘No. No, don’t go. Look, I’m sorry, mate. I’m just knackered with looking out for Gran. Let’s get away from here and go to the park.’

  He ran his hands through his hair and shambled over to the back door. ‘We’re off to the park for a bit, Gran,’ he shouted.

  There was no reply, so he went inside. She was fast asleep in the kitchen chair. He stared at her for a moment. She looked so peaceful. Best not disturb her.

  He scrawled a note and left it on the table.

  Gone to the park.

  Back soon.

  Jx

  Then he tiptoed out.

  He and Tom walked down the garden path – through the jungle of weeds and overgrown plants. They ran out into the street, throwing the football across to each other as they went. Just before they reached the park, Jake stopped outside the big old house.

  Tom slithered to a halt behind him. ‘What’s the matter?’

  Jake shrugged. ‘Nothing. Just seeing if anyone’s moved in yet.’

  ‘It still says “For Sale”,’ said Tom. ‘Looks empty.’

  He was right. The board was still up outside. There was nothing saying ‘Sold’ and there was no sign of life.

  Jake stared up at the big square redbrick house. The garden was as overgrown as theirs and one of the hinges had come off the gate.

  It doesn’t look as if anyone’s living in it. Is that girl lying?

  He continued to stare at the house, his hand resting gently on the swinging gate. He suddenly wanted to go inside, to see for himself if that girl was living there. The place was drawing him towards it, urging him to walk through the gate, up the path. If Tom hadn’t been with him, he would have followed the urge, but he shook his head to free it from the pull being exerted on him.

  Tom tugged at his T-shirt. ‘Come on!’

  Jake looked at him blankly.

  ‘Earth to Jake, Earth to Jake. The park. . . football. . . Der!’

  Jake turned away from the house. ‘Sure.’

  There were some other lads in the park and Jake knew most of them.

  ‘Over here!’ they yelled.

  Jake and Tom joined in the game. There was no pitch marked out and the goalies stood between two bundles of clothes at either end, but the pace was fast and pretty chaotic. For an hour or so, Jake was completely happy. This was where he excelled. This is what he understood. He thought of nothing but the game, as he powered up and down the pitch. No one could stop him. He was too fast, too skilled for them. He could have scored all the goals but he tried not to hog the ball, and time and again he set up a goal for another player only to see it fumbled and the goal missed.