by Caroline Day
But I don’t remember my mum, Jenny Nicely, ever talking about it. I do remember the monkey. And I remember the vodka and the friends, who were not very good friends, actually, because of not keeping their hands and feet to themselves.
And I remember the car and screaming and screaming, and not being able to move my arm. And I remember my mum, Jenny Nicely, cuddling me and saying she loved me and that everything was going to be OK.
The rope was a different time. When I was already grown up with a real job. It was when I used to walk back from the park to my home, which is 23a Station Close. After walking the dogs, Karen, my boss, gave me my money and I walked back and my mum was there. Now, Karen always comes back with me to the house now, or else my mum picks me up or Karen, my boss, takes me to my writing group, except now it’s a bit different, with me walking more with Connor Flynn or Bridget or Danny Flynn because of living in their house now, but then, before, the pub time, I walked back on my own. And sometimes, when my mum wasn’t there because of working in the bookshop, I had my key and it was all right, because of just watching TV, until my mum was home too. And one day, I met some of my friends from school – even though they weren’t really friends anymore, because of being not very good ones, and also because of not being at school anymore – and they said, oh look, it’s Hope Nicely. They said fancy meeting me there, and what was I doing now and I told them I had a real job, actually, with real dogs and real money. And they said I should go to the pub with them. And I said I didn’t like pubs but they said I should go with them anyway. It was because of being like a school … what’s the word? Like a party. And that was why it was OK. It was like a school party. For old friends.
A celebration. Because of meeting them again.
And the pub was not the White Hart. I can’t remember its name, maybe another animal one. And it wasn’t very nice because of being noisy and smelly too. And my friends didn’t have any money, but it was all right because of me having some money. And it was enough money for some beer for them, and for me too, and for some other people, who I didn’t know, but who were their friends from the pub.
But it wasn’t a very good celebration. My friends told the other people in the pub about me being a pissy knickers and always shouting in school and being a Spaz. And also about me drinking vodka and running into a car. And I think it was maybe funny, because of them laughing a lot. But I wasn’t laughing so much. It made me think that maybe, actually, it would be good to be just an ordinary drop of light, even if it didn’t make a rainbow. Maybe it would be good to be a person who was not me at all. And it made me think that maybe adopting me wasn’t the best thing my mum, Jenny Nicely, ever did. Maybe it was not all for the best, actually.
It made me think about the rope.
But Julie Clarke says it was because of all the words like issues and loss and susceptible and vulnerable. And about there being so much to take in and about it being a low point. She thinks it was about my birth mother being dead. Triggered, she says. Because of my mum, Jenny Nicely, trying to tell me, even if I don’t remember it.
And Julie Clarke thinks that now there is so much to take in again. She means about my birth mother. About Ellie.
‘We really don’t have to talk about all this now, Hope.’ This is what she’s saying. ‘Maybe it’s best to leave it until another time.’
But now I do think I want to talk about it. And there is a lot to take in, maybe. But maybe now it’s different. Maybe because of my book. Because I’m writing my book now, and it is a Big Achievement. And the book is because of wanting to find my birth mother, and now I have found her. Sort of I have. So I do want to talk about it, actually.
I’m not shouting. I’m not throwing toys or knives or spoons. I’m not even counting. Not even one, two, three. I’m not sitting on my hands. I’m not humming. I’m only looking at my mum, Jenny Nicely, with her eyes closed still, but now it’s only called sleeping, now she’s got her conscious back, and it will help her to be right as rain.
‘I do want to talk about it actually.’ This is me. I’m talking to Julie Clarke. And I’m looking at her hard to show it really is OK. ‘Even if it’s a lot to take in, I do want to know about it.’
Julie Clarke does a noise with her nose, which is a bit like a sigh. And she looks at Simon Taylor and she moves her shoulders up a bit. And then she does another sort of sigh, but with her mouth. And she asks me if I’m quite sure, sweetheart, that it’s not going to make me upset, because, honestly, we can always carry on this conversation another time. It might be easier for me. She gives me a very long look. But I tell her I am sure, actually.
I still have the photograph in my hand. And he really has changed a lot, because of looking so much older now, with lines around his eyes and around his mouth and his hair with white in it. And when he smiles there are even more lines around his eyes.
‘OK, Hope. Well, I met Ellie at a party in …’
‘The party in your book. In the dark room with the coats?’
Because of course I know that. It’s from his extract.
‘Of course. Yes. Exactly. In the dark room.’ Simon Taylor smiles again and he says, well, it was very much love at first sight for both of them. And I say, doesn’t he mean hear. And he says, not right here, but not far away – it was in Hatfield, which is where he was a student and … And I say, no, hear. Love at first hear. Because of it being dark and him not seeing her in the room, except a little bit with the cigarettes. So it wasn’t love at first sight. It was love at first hear. And Simon Taylor says, oh, oh yes. It was love at first hear.
‘She was the most spontaneous person I ever met.’ This is him. And he tells me that spontaneous means not just sitting around and thinking about doing things, but going right ahead and doing them – seizing the day. And when he told her his real dream was to travel to America, which is where they did grunge, which was music with guitars, and dirty clothes, she said, OK, go for it. He didn’t have a real job and she had a holiday which was going to be months and months, because of being a student. And they both had an overdraft, which is making money from the future come to you now. And so that is what they did. Five days after meeting each other in a dark room in a party, they bought two tickets to go to America with their overdrafts.
‘What neither of us knew is that she must have already been pregnant.’ Simon Taylor is telling me this now and it is a bit difficult to understand, but it’s because of Eliana having had other boyfriends before Simon Taylor, because of being very spontaneous. And also that’s why Simon Taylor thought he was my father except in fact he wasn’t. Because of DNA. But Ellie didn’t even know that she had me in her tummy. And this is because of always having had problems with you-know-what girl stuff, which is periods, and also because of them partying too hard, and thinking that is why she was being sick so much. And although it was fun in America, they also had lots of fights and the biggest fight was right on the day when they were going to the airport to fly back to England and, in the end, it was such a bad fight that Simon Taylor said, right, just fuck it – ‘Oh, God, I’m so sorry, Hope. Do excuse me, Julie’ – why didn’t she just fuck off back to England on her own and he’d stay right there in America because there sure as hell wasn’t any other reason for him to go home if she was going to be like that.
And, afterwards, when she had gone back and he was still in America, he wanted to phone Ellie straight away, because of missing her so much, and also to write to her, but he didn’t even have her new address because of her being a student and not having one yet. And he didn’t have her phone number because of it being different then, with phone boxes not mobile phones. It was in the old days when there wasn’t even the internet, for looking on Twitter and Facebook. So it was impossible. And he couldn’t get on another aeroplane, because of not having any more of his overdraft, so he needed to work before he could buy another ticket. But he didn’t have a thing called a visa for it even. And it ended up being more years, and a very wild time, and when he
did come home in the end, nobody even knew where Ellie was and nobody knew about the baby, which was me, because of her doing that all by herself, in a bedsit, not even with any nurses, and being so scared and just putting me in a box because of being in a panic and with her brain so confused that she didn’t even know what she was doing. And it made her so sad that for a long time, she wasn’t even a student anymore, only a dropped-out one, and very messed up.
‘She was only nineteen, Hope. Six years younger than you are now. Still a kid, really. She never forgave herself for abandoning you.’
There is a happy bit and a sad bit in the story that is about Ellie. And the happy bit is that she met a very nice man, who was a Kiwi – which is not the furry fruit, but a person who comes from the country of New Zealand. And Simon Taylor is not sure if it was love at first sight, or love at first hear, or what sort of love it was. But it was some sort of love probably, and this very nice Kiwi man helped her to get herself happy again, which is also called getting her shit together, which meant going back to university, and also coming to meet me with Monkey the monkey, because she would never be able to have a nice life ever, if she did not see me just once. And she saw that I was with a lovely new mummy and a nice home and a nice life for me too. And that is the happy bit and the moving to New Zealand and becoming a Kiwi too, and also a teacher.
But then there is the sad bit, and this is the bit that Simon Taylor knows, because of Ellie finding him on a computer when they were much older and he was not doing grunge in America anymore, but was back in England and being a computer programmer. And there still wasn’t Facebook or Twitter, so it wasn’t easy as anything, but there was something called Friends Reunited, which is how she found him. And it was good because she could tell him all about me, and it being the worst thing that she had ever done, and also about maybe him being my father. But it was not good too, because of her also telling him another very, very sad thing which was about her having a bad cancer which was very serious and the doctors said that probably she would die.
Julie Clarke is saying – and it’s a little bit interrupting, but I think it’s OK, because she’s leaning towards us, with her hand up like a cue: ‘What you have to realise, Hope, is that we all wanted what was best for you. And Jenny and I were aware that you had issues regarding loss. It’s one of the reasons that she felt writing your book might be such a helpful …’
In my brain, somewhere, not right at the front, I do remember, perhaps. Maybe I remember my mum, Jenny Nicely, saying how would I feel if one day I learned my birth mother had died. Would I want to know? I remember a little tiny bit – but not in the front bit of my brain so I’m having to look very hard like it’s hiding. And I don’t like death. I don’t like people being in a box and gone forever. And I’m sitting on my hands because of thinking about it. I’m even humming, but only a little bit. And Julie is saying, Hope, Hope, sweetheart, are you all right?
And in my head, I’m doing a little bit of counting. One, two, three. Just a little bit. Because I think I do remember. I think I remember talking to Camilla da Silva. And her saying, what were your feelings?
‘I’m so sorry.’ This is Simon Taylor and he’s putting his hand onto his head and shaking his head too. ‘This is all my fault.’
‘Your fault that Ellie is dead?’
‘No. My fault that it’s all ended up coming out like this. It must be such a shock to you. I should have listened to Jenny. I should have talked to her first.’
‘My mum Jenny?’
‘Yes.’
‘Jenny Nicely.’
‘Yes.’
‘How could you listen to her if you haven’t talked to her first?’
‘I …’ He’s shaking his head.
‘Simon first approached us – social services – thirteen years ago about the DNA test to see if he was your biological father, and that was because your birth mother had been in contact with him to say that she was poorly. And in fact, Eliana had already contacted us too. She thought Jenny should know. But whenever Jenny tried to talk to you about her, you would become very upset. And that’s why, even though Jenny said she thought it was the right thing to do the DNA test – and she tried very hard to discuss it with you too, to make sure it was something you wanted – afterwards, when the results came back, she said she thought it was best for you if we didn’t try to talk to you about Eliana again too soon. She was very sorry for her, of course, and I believe she wrote to her, but she didn’t think it would be good for you to have to deal with all the emotions of confronting your birth mother’s existence knowing that you would then have to deal with her being gone again. She said her priority had to be your mental well-being. You do understand, don’t you, darling Hope? Your mother would never hide anything from you.’
And I’m thinking about if I remember or not. But my brain, it’s such a jumble. And my memory … I’m thinking maybe my mum did ask me. About would I want to know if somebody was related to me, or would I not want to know. And asking my mum if related was family, and about putting an earbud into my mouth, like cleaning my ear, but in my cheek. And me saying, a test to see if my mouth was clean? I don’t remember her saying about a father but maybe she did. Probably she would have done.
Julie and Simon are both looking at me with their eyes watching very hard. I think they’re worrying about me maybe shouting or screaming or going away. But I’m looking at my mum, Jenny, now. Because of course she would never hide anything from me. I’m more precious than all her poems put together. And her eyes are still closed, because of still needing lots of rest before she can be right as rain. But I think her head has moved a bit now.
‘Before Ellie died she wrote to me.’ This is Simon Taylor now. ‘We knew I wasn’t your father by then, but she sent me a card for you, in case I ever had the chance to meet you and give it to you. When you were ready.’
‘Like now, maybe?’
‘Well, yes. Except I never meant it to be like this. I’d been working in Manchester, for a few years, but when I moved back here, I got in touch with Jenny through Facebook. I told her who I was and asked if maybe I could meet you and tell you a bit about Ellie.’
‘And give me the card?’
‘Maybe that too. I think your mum tried to talk to you, and I think it upset you. So she said she didn’t think it was a good idea and, of course, I had to respect that. But then a month or two ago, I was a bit early for a train and I went into the bookshop by the station, to fill some time. There was a book of poems by Jenny Nicely on the table at the front, and I remembered from her Facebook page that it was where she worked. I asked the woman at the cash desk if Jenny was there, and she said no – your mum wasn’t working that day, so I was just going to leave again. But on the same table as the poetry book, there were some flyers for the writing group. And I’d been thinking for a long time how I’d like to write down some of my experiences – like a memoir – about my time in America. I thought it might help me put it all to rest. Anyway, I emailed Marnie to sign up. I didn’t have the slightest idea that you would be in the group. That was quite a shock, actually. I couldn’t believe it on that first day, when you introduced yourself. Especially as you look so much like Ellie. But then I thought that it could be a really good thing, because it would give me a chance to get to know you a bit, without upsetting you by telling you who I was or anything about the connection with Ellie. I thought maybe it would be best that way.’
‘But it’s definitely not a coincidence.’ I am looking at him very hard, with my brain a bit worried. ‘Not a ginormous one?’
‘No. Because I wouldn’t have been looking at that table, and have taken the flyer, if I hadn’t realised the link between the bookshop and Jenny, would I? So, no, not a complete coincidence. But then when you started asking me about whether I worked at the hospital and what I knew about your mum, I thought you’d worked out who I was. When you left that session with the editor, and were so upset, Marnie mentioned a family issue and I was worried it might b
e my fault in some way. I didn’t know about Jenny being ill. I just thought you’d rumbled me, and that it might be bad for you and that Jenny might be angry because she’d think I’d gone behind her back.’
And now I’m thinking about my mum, Jenny Nicely. And I’m looking in my box, and taking out the necklace with the hair, and the book with the not-very-straight corners, and the monkey photo. And I’m saying to Simon does he still have the card from Ellie. He says yes, he has it here and he’s putting his hand in his pocket. And Julie says maybe we should wait until Jenny …
‘Don’t worry.’ This is me talking. ‘I’m not going to drink vodka and run under a car. I’m not a baby boo boo anymore.’
And now Julie and Simon Taylor are both looking at me, with their eyes wide. It’s a little bit like the advert that was on telly yesterday. In the advert there’s a woman who is talking to her dog and he’s just being a dog lying on the floor, but then the dog talks to her too, and he says isn’t it time for tea. And their faces are like the woman’s face, with her wide eyes too. It’s a surprised look.
And then there is a noise, and it’s my mum, Jenny Nicely, maybe because of hearing Julie say her name. Or maybe she’s been listening all this time. And now she’s opening her eyes – and they’re lovely eyes, which are very big, with long lashes, and they’re the colour of coffee with just a tiny bit of milk. And I say to her does she want anything. I say does she want some water, maybe, like the man who wanted a glass of water in the quote. Konnigurt something. She nods. So I go to her, and I give her the glass of water from her table, and I help her drink it, because she’s not very strong yet, even though she’s doing lots of resting and the doctors say we can try to have her out of bed maybe later today. And that would be fan-tanty-tastic because it’s very boring, with her just lying down. I put her cup back down and I sit on the bed, beside her, even though I’m meant to really sit on the chair.
