by Linda Huber
That evening they’d all gone out searching for Snowball/Snugglepuss, and he’d cried real tears – to his father’s disgust – because his cat was gone. But underneath the tears part of him was laughing. He’d shown Snugglepuss how dangerous it was not to love him as he deserved.
He’d never had another cat, and he’d never again felt anger like that against an animal.
Next time, it had been Mummy.
Chapter Five
Tuesday, 11th July
Alicia
Alicia forced her legs out of bed. Shit, she hadn’t felt this knackered since Jenny was a baby and broken nights had been the norm. There was no baby now, though, just an old man whose mind had gone, and the hard truth was he had been up three times in the night. Each time she’d had to persuade him back to bed and then sit with him, seething with impatience until he’d fallen asleep again. They simply couldn’t go on like this, she was exhausted already and they’d only been here five minutes. She would ask Frank for stronger sleeping pills for him and make an appointment for her and Margaret to see round St. Joe’s at the earliest possibility.
Her aunt was scrambling eggs when she went downstairs, and a trail of Coco-pops on the floor revealed that Jenny had already had breakfast. Alicia hesitated in the doorway. It felt a bit odd, living with Margaret again. The two years in Edinburgh after she’d run away from here seemed like a very long time ago now. Margaret and Jeff had been great, keeping Alicia while she attended a final year of school and then a year at college before starting her nursing training in Glasgow. Margaret had tried at first to patch things up between her and her parents, but had given that up very quickly. Her father had been adamant and so had teenage Alicia. A slight reconciliation had occurred years later when Jenny was born – nothing like a new baby to mend family rifts – but when Alicia and Paul divorced, her father was incensed and the devil triumphant. Good Christian people didn’t divorce. So the contact had ended again, and it had stayed that way all through Mum’s death and her father’s series of strokes. Alicia had gone to her mother’s funeral, of course, been righteously ignored by her father and had subsequently left him to it. Margaret had coped well and willingly with things here. Up until now.
‘Morning, lovey,’ said Margaret. ‘The eggs are just ready.’
Alicia wasn’t fond of scrambled eggs but it seemed churlish to say so. It was going to be difficult enough to persuade Margaret that finding a care home was the logical, fairly urgent next step for them to take. A squabble about the breakfast menu would benefit no-one.
‘Lovely. Margaret, I’d like to go and have a look round St. Joe’s today,’ she said impulsively. ‘It would be interesting to see it from the inside. Frank Carter said it’s a good place.’
Margaret stirred sweetener into her tea, staring at the mug. Alicia could see she was organizing her argument.
‘You’re giving up too easily, Alicia,’ she said at last. ‘Your father’s a sick man now, but he wouldn’t have wanted to end his days in an old folk’s home. I know the two of you have never been close, but he’s never asked you for anything either. Until now. So let’s you and me do this last thing, lovey. For Bob.’
Alicia was silent. So Margaret wasn’t above using emotional blackmail. Why was it so important to her to keep him here? There was no stigma attached to having a member of your family go into a care home nowadays, was there? Or was it maybe that her aunt was afraid she’d lose her home here if he was in care? Surely not, Margaret moving in after the first stroke had been as much about her having a purpose in life after Uncle Jeff had died so suddenly. And whatever happened, they mustn’t fall out over this, because then her father and the devil would have won not only the battle but the entire war as well.
‘I’m only here for six weeks,’ she said gently. ‘I have a job back home, and Jenny has school. We can’t stay indefinitely. And Margaret, looking after him 24/7 is more than one person’s job.’
Margaret tutted impatiently out of the room and Alicia sighed. Maybe she should get Frank Carter and Douglas Patton over here for a talk, as it was obviously going to be next to impossible to get Margaret anywhere near St. Joe’s. And she would phone David in York and ask him to have a word too. He might be able to make his mother see sense where a mere niece couldn’t.
Alone in the kitchen, she opened the back door to get rid of the egg smell. The whole garden, stretching towards the hillside and merging into the woods, had become terribly unkempt. Whatever had happened to Mr Johnston who used to come every week to mow the lawn and tidy up? The grass was more or less civilised, but the summerhouse in the middle was wild with overgrown brambles and beyond that again it was an absolute jungle. And where on earth was Jenny?
‘Jen!’ she called, sudden apprehension making her voice catch.
‘Here I am!’ Her daughter ran round the side of the house, and Alicia relaxed. ‘Mummy, can I go and ask at the pet shop how the little kitty is? Please? It isn’t far and I can take Conker with me.’
Alicia bit her lip as she remembered Kenneth Taylor’s shining, round face, and the way he had known her name.
‘Not today, sweetheart,’ she said. ‘Mr Taylor said he would get in touch and I’m sure he will if no-one claims the kitty. But we don’t want to make a nuisance of ourselves. After all you don’t really know him, do you?’
How mean she was, playing on Jenny’s nervousness about strangers like that. After everything she had said yesterday too. But she did not want Jen visiting the pet shop owner by herself.
‘Oh!’ said Jenny, pouting. ‘Well, alright. Then can I take Conker up into the woods and play? We won’t go far.’
Mother’s dilemma, thought Alicia wryly. You can’t say ‘no’ all the time, even her own mother hadn’t. She could remember playing in the woods with Cathal O’Brian next door, and wow, what a rarity, a good memory of her childhood. It just felt different now when it was her own daughter about to vanish into the undergrowth. But the woods literally were an extension of the garden, Jen would be within shouting – well, yelling – distance all the time. She nodded, and Jenny whooped.
Alicia watched unhappily as her daughter and Conker raced into the jungle behind the summerhouse and were gone. Margaret had gone to see a neighbour, and it was time she got her father up.
She ran upstairs and paused at the threshold to her father’s room, pushing the door ajar to see if he was awake yet.
This is the bad room.
The young voice was brittle with panic. Alicia held her breath as another wave of nausea swept through her, even stronger this time. She stood there retching, quite unable to control her gut.
Oh God. What did it mean, ‘the bad room’? The bad room in the bad place? Shivering, she took a deep breath. What was this little voice in her head trying to tell her? She leaned her head against the wall and closed her eyes.
The bad room. Her father’s room. Why should the child’s voice – her own voice? – warn her so insistently that her father’s room was bad? What had happened in this room? Something a whole lot worse than bible-reading or no dinner? Worse than having her hair hacked off, something so ‘bad’ it had literally made her retch, all these years later? But she couldn’t remember, she just couldn’t remember.
A bang from inside the room brought her back to here and now.
Her father was wandering about in urine-soaked pyjamas. He didn’t look at her. Alicia stood in the doorway staring at the spot on the floor where she’d lain - no, where he’d held her down while he cut off her hair. Why hadn’t she told a teacher what had happened? She hadn’t been able to admit that she’d needed help, that was why. She’d laughed at herself with the ‘pixie’ cut – Mum had evened it out a bit – and everyone had laughed with her. They hadn’t seen the hurt because she’d hidden it very carefully, and anyway by the time she arrived at school the next day she’d already decided to leave home just as soon as she could.
Stepping into the room, Alicia grasped her father’s arm and stared into his f
ace. He still wouldn’t meet her eye. God, what use was all this soul-searching? He was a demented old thing now, old before his time, there was nothing of him left to be accountable for what he had or hadn’t done.
‘You cut my hair off right here on the floor,’ she said. ‘Remember that, do you? I was terrified.’
He gave no indication of even having heard her, sitting passively on the bed while she removed his pyjamas and took out clean clothes. There he was, naked and vulnerable, and for the first time she was the superior one, the one in control.
Forcing the uncomfortable thoughts away, Alicia showered him and took him downstairs, where he wandered round after her like a lost sheep before eventually settling into his chair by the fireplace. Now at least she didn’t have to touch him for a while.
‘I was a good child, you know,’ she said, speaking before she had even thought. He stared at her, making eye contact for the first time that morning, then the one-sided grin spread over his face and he wheezed his horrible Aaaah-ha-ha-ha, his eyes never leaving hers.
Alicia swallowed. Did he see how difficult this was for her? Was he behaving like this to taunt her? Was he thinking about the day he cut her hair off? They would have to find out exactly what he could understand. It was a long time since the last speech assessment; a good therapist might be able to help them now. If his mind really was gone Alicia knew she would feel a whole lot better about having to care for him. Illogical but true.
She bent towards him in his chair. ‘Do you understand? Can you give me a sign? Yes? No?’
No Daddy no! The child’s voice again and she was crying hysterically.
It was like a waking dream, a long-forgotten memory slowly rising towards the surface.
What the hell had he done to her?
Sickening thoughts of abuse, rape and paedophilia flashed through her mind. But surely nothing like that... This was her religious father she was thinking about, she was being melodramatic. Maybe the child’s voice was simply her own reluctance to deal with the situation that had developed here. Her father had been a terrible parent and with perfect justification she had broken off contact. Now circumstances were forcing her not only to live in this house again, but also attend to her father’s intimate care. That was all. Not easy even for someone with nursing training, but it would pass. Things would get better.
Her mobile rang in the kitchen while she was still helping her father with his breakfast. She set the mug of tea on the mantelpiece where he couldn’t reach it, and gave him the slice of toast in his good hand. He might eat it if he was holding it.
‘Hello?’ It was difficult not to sound harassed.
‘Hi, Alicia, it’s Paul. How are things with you?’
‘Paul?’ She repeated the name stupidly.
‘Your ex-husband? The father of your child? Don’t tell me you’ve forgotten all about me?’
Alicia sank onto a hard kitchen chair. Hell, this was the last thing she needed. Paul hadn’t been in touch for nearly a year and that suited her just fine.
‘Paul. We’re... okay. Visiting Lower Banford just now. How are you?’ There was no point going into details he wasn’t interested in hearing.
‘Very well indeed. I’m in England on business at the moment. Home’s in Singapore now, as you know, and, actually, Alicia, I remarried at Easter. A wonderful girl from China. Siu-pen. So Jenny has a stepmum.’
‘Oh - congratulations. Jen’s not here at the moment, she’s um, out with a friend.’
‘Never mind. Alicia, I want Jen in Singapore for a holiday in the autumn. I want her to get to know her stepmother.’
‘No,’ said Alicia immediately. It was another gut reaction. ‘You have a nerve, Paul. She doesn’t even know you properly and that’s because you’ve never bothered with her. No way am I letting you take her to Singapore.’
‘We’ll see about that. I have a stable home to offer her now, with a stay-at-home mum and a new little brother or sister expected at Christmas. I could get custody. Think about that, Alicia.’
The connection ended abruptly, and Alicia stared at her phone. He could never get custody, surely. Even if his wife was everything Jenny could wish for in a stepmother, that wouldn’t undo the years of neglect that Paul had inflicted on his daughter. He’d been a useless father right from the start, leaving when Jen was less than a year old. Alicia had scrimped and saved by herself ever since; the irregular and inadequate sums of money Paul sent them would barely have financed a cat, never mind a growing child.
A crash from the next room jolted her attention back to the present and she ran back to her father. He was standing by the fireplace, looking down at the remains of the mug he’d obviously managed to reach after all. The rug and his slippers were soaked with tea. Tired tears of frustration welled up in Alicia’s eyes, then she tilted her chin determinedly. If Paul sued for custody she might have to prove soon exactly what a super-mum she was, so she would just start right now.
Chapter Six
Alicia
She was pegging out the washing when Frank arrived, emerging from the back door with Bob following behind.
‘He was wandering around in the hall,’ said Frank, and Alicia sighed. She should be keeping a better eye on him, she knew that. He could open the front door and walk off into the sunset if he put his mind to it. Christ, if only he would. She watched as Frank lowered the old man onto the wooden bench by the back door. He sat there, clutching his cloth cap in his good hand and sucking on his teeth.
Frank straightened and stepped closer, concern on his face. ‘You’re tired,’ he said.
Alicia shrugged. Not the best way to make a girl feel great. But then he was a doctor, he was allowed to say things like that and the mirror had told her exactly the same thing anyway.
‘Tired? I’m half dead,’ she said, hearing the gloominess in her own voice. ‘My father spent half the night trying to go walkabout and then he wet the bed, plus it’s almost impossible to get him to eat a respectable amount of anything. Then my ghastly ex phoned, he’s threatening to fight for custody of Jen and take her to Singapore. He’s married again and thinks he has a ‘stable home’ to offer her. And Margaret just will not see that my father would be better off in St. Joe’s.’
Frank was silent for a moment, then he reached out and patted her shoulder awkwardly.
Alicia almost jumped, embarrassed by her sudden outburst.
‘Right. I’ll give you different pills for Bob. And I’ll talk to Margaret again, but you know you don’t actually need her consent to put your father into St. Joe’s. You’re his next of kin and I’ll back you up about this. And Alicia, for heaven’s sake, there’s no way your ex would get custody of Jenny, is there? Not in Singapore?’
‘I don’t know,’ she admitted. ‘I don’t think so. It’s just so horrible he’s threatening me like this. Imagine if I lost Jen, she - hell, where is she? She’s been gone for ages! Jenny?’
Christ, she had been so busy being tired and doing her father’s washing that she had forgotten to check on her daughter.
There was no reply from the bottom of the garden, and Alicia yelled again, aware that Frank was staring at her. But thank heavens, after the second shout there was an answering call and a few moments later, Jenny and Conker came careering up the garden.
‘Mummy! I found a little fairy clearing, it’s almost exactly a round circle of trees, great big high ones. We were playing a game where I’m a fairy princess, and Conker is my trusty unicorn and we went all over the galaxy, and the circle of trees is our palace when we’re home and our spaceship when we’re travelling.’
In spite of her fright Alicia felt her lips twitching. She glanced at Frank, and they exchanged grins.
‘Well, your Highness, it’s time for elevenses,’ she said. ‘You’ll have a coffee, won’t you, Frank? I promise I won’t moan too much. You can tell me more about Sonja, and how you’re finding life in Lower Banford.’
‘Sonja’s having a ball in Paris, she loves the good life
,’ he said, following her into the kitchen and settling down at the table, his face bright. ‘They were in Vancouver before. I’ll give you her email address if you like. As for Lower Banford - well, I’ve just moved into Dave Morton’s old place which was last redecorated when Doctor Kildare was a boy, so I’ve got a mammoth job in front of me. The practice suite is fine but the house is going to be... a challenge. It’s about the same era as this one.’
Alicia grinned in sympathy. ‘Poor you. Never mind, you can do it little by little.’
‘That’s the idea,’ said Frank. He seemed to be enjoying sitting there drinking coffee with her and Jenny, and Alicia wondered if he had made many friends in the village. When you weren’t talking to his doctor persona he was really quite shy; maybe he was finding his new life here lonely.
‘Doctor Frank, have you seen Mr Taylor from the pet shop today?’ asked Jenny, and Alicia groaned inwardly. Jen wasn’t going to forget about that kitten.
‘I haven’t, but I’m sure he’ll let you know about the kitten soon,’ said Frank. Alicia managed to catch his eye without Jenny noticing, and pulled a face. He rose to the occasion straightaway, and Alicia relaxed gratefully as he spoke.
‘Tell me more about your palace in the woods, Princess Jenny,’ he said. ‘It sounds like a very special place indeed.’
Jenny was only too happy to chatter on about life amongst the stars, and Alicia poured him a second cup of coffee. He was very patient, she thought, listening as he asked about Kings and Queens and spaceships. Her daughter’s face was one big beam, and she stood waving fondly as Frank drove off twenty minutes later.
Alicia had to force herself out of her chair after lunch. There was still the shopping to do, and she was way too tired to face the drive to Merton. Mrs Mullen here I come again.
Jenny chose to stay and help Margaret brush the dog, so Alicia trudged down the lane alone, glad to have a few minutes to herself and resentful that it only was a few minutes and not a couple of hours. Still, at least she was out of the house and the village was a pretty little place when you weren’t worrying about sleeping pills and voices in your head. It was a pity she couldn’t enjoy being here. There weren’t many villages like this left, even Upper Banford had mutated into a small town.
