Cuckoo (26 page)

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Authors: Julia Crouch

Tags: #Fiction

BOOK: Cuckoo
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‘This is going to be awesome,’ Gareth said, tasting the stew and adjusting the seasoning.
 
‘You can’t really go wrong with a kilo of organic beef, two bottles of good red wine and some of Rose’s thyme, Gareth,’ Polly said, going over to breathe in the steam that rose from the casserole dish. ‘Come on, chaps!’ she called into the living room. ‘Oh, sorry, I forgot,’ and she got the handbell and, ever so daintily, rang it.
 
Rose had never seen Polly with so much positive energy. Not offstage, anyway. She welcomed it. She was happy just to sit, drink her wine and let it all happen about her.
 
Gareth carried the casserole to the table, where he set it down on a board next to a pile of bowls that Anna had put out.
 
‘I think you’re going to be proud of my stew, Rose,’ he said as he ladled it out.
 
‘Well, I’m very impressed with the look of the kitchen,’ she said. And she was: it looked like he had made a real effort to clean up.
 
‘It’s not just housework, though, Rose. It’s how I’ve really managed without you. I even surprised myself. It’s gone really well, hasn’t it, Anna?’
 
‘Yeah,’ Anna said. ‘Though we did miss you, Mum.’
 
‘Course we did,’ Gareth said, lifting his spoon to his mouth. ‘God, this stew is really something.’
 
‘Men can never eat something they’ve cooked without constant self-congratulation,’ Polly said. ‘Christos was exactly the same. It was all, “This is the best stifado ever”, and, “My mother doesn’t make it as good as this”.’
 
‘I don’t remember Papa doing that,’ Nico said, not looking anyone in the eye. These were the first words he had said since Rose got back.
 
‘Well, he did, Nico. It was funny,’ Polly said, pushing a bit of meat around her plate. Rose noticed that, despite all the talk about food, she still wasn’t eating much.
 
‘God, those drains are really bad, Gareth,’ Rose said. ‘Can we close the windows?’
 
‘It is a bit high, isn’t it?’ he said, getting up and pulling the sashes down.
 
‘Mama’s got a jig,’ Yannis said.
 
‘A what?’ Rose said. She realised she was so tired, it sounded like everyone was speaking from another room.
 
‘A gig, spastic,’ Nico said to his brother.
 
‘Nico, we don’t use that word, remember?’ Gareth said.
 
‘Whatever, Gareth,’ Nico muttered.
 
Gareth bristled.
 
‘This is the thing at the Lamb?’ Rose said.
 
Polly nodded.
 
‘Yeah,’ Gareth said. ‘I went down and had a word with Charlie and he said he’d be only too happy to have Polly do her try-out in there. In fact, he was as excited as a little kid.’
 
‘He was one of my boy fans.’ Polly rolled her eyes. ‘Still dyes his hair – what’s left of it – jet black.’
 
‘Well, that’s wonderful,’ Rose said. ‘When?’
 
‘Next week,’ Polly said. ‘It’s quite bracing. But it’ll only be to an invited audience and locals – we’re not doing a big load of publicity or anything. I just need to give the new work an airing. Get me feet back again.’
 
‘It’s great work, Rose,’ Gareth said. ‘Very moving. It’s your best yet,’ he said to Polly, who smiled and lowered her eyes.
 
‘I’m going to do some old numbers too – unplugged – for Charlie and his mates,’ she said. ‘But mostly it’ll be my Christos songs. My
Widow Cycle
.’
 
There was a pause, and Nico stared at his mother as she fiddled with her food.
 
‘You’ve written songs about Papa?’ he asked.
 
‘Yes.’
 
‘Why? Why did you do that?’
 
‘Because it’s something that has happened to me – to us – and it’s important to record it and express it.’ She spoke slowly, choosing her words with care.
 
‘You can’t use him like that!’ Nico jumped up.
 
‘Nico . . .’ Gareth warned.
 
‘He’s only just died. You can’t use him like that!’ Nico was waving his finger in the air, stabbing it towards his mother.
 
‘Shut up!’ Yannis put his hands over his ears and screwed up his eyes.
 
‘You always do that – you always just use us for yourself, Mama. You never see anything from our point of view,’ Nico railed.
 
‘Nico, be quiet.
Now
.’ Gareth stood up, pulling his great height against the small, wiry boy.
 
‘Shut up.’ Nico turned on him. ‘You’re not my papa.’
 
‘I am quite aware of that, Nico,’ Gareth said. ‘Now, come with me into the back garden and we’re going to have a little talk.’
 
‘Make me, cunt.’
 
Anna gasped; Rose looked at her and blanched. Why wasn’t Polly doing anything to stop this?
 
‘That’s it!’ Gareth stormed. He grabbed Nico by the arm and dragged him out of the back door. Everyone stopped eating. Yannis hid his face in his hands and Anna sat looking at her plate, her lip trembling. Rose, who had never seen such forcefulness from Gareth, looked over at Polly and was shocked to see that she had the ghost of a lopsided smile on her face.
 
‘He deserved that,’ Polly said. ‘He’s getting out of order, that boy.’
 
‘He’s remarkably articulate about his feelings,’ Rose said.
 
‘He doesn’t understand a thing,’ Polly snapped. ‘He’s a fine one to talk about not seeing things from anybody else’s point of view.’
 
‘He’s nine years old, Polly!’
 
‘And how else am I supposed to get us on our feet again? It’s all I know, Rose – how to use what’s in here.’ She punched her breast, just above her heart. ‘It’s the only way I know of making a living.’
 
Rose thought Polly was missing the point entirely, turning it all onto herself, but she didn’t have the energy to pursue it.
 
After a while, Gareth brought Nico back in, his arm around his shoulder. The boy looked tinier than ever.
 
‘Nico is sorry, Polly,’ Gareth said. ‘Aren’t you, Nico?’
 
‘Yeah,’ said Nico. ‘Sorry, “Polly”.’
 
Polly held out her hand and Nico reached over and shook it. He quietly went back to his seat.
 
‘Right,’ Polly said brightly. ‘Who’s for pudding? We’ve got something rather special made by our little Rose-in-waiting.’ She gestured over to Anna, who got up and started clearing the table.
 
‘It’s just chocolate ice cream,’ she blushed.
 
‘Home-made, Rose,’ Yannis whispered over to her. ‘Anna made it all by herself.’
 
‘She’s a clever, brilliant girl,’ Rose said, smiling at her daughter.
 
The chocolate ice cream was very good, with sauce swirled around inside it. Afterwards, Polly made coffee.
 
‘Gareth has shown me how to do it,’ she said.
 
‘There’s only the one way,’ Gareth said, holding his index finger up.
 
‘I’ll have tea, please,’ Rose said. ‘And I’m really, really tired, I’m afraid. If you don’t mind, chaps,’ she turned to Nico and Yannis, ‘I’d like to do Anna’s bedtime, just me, her and Flossie. Just this once because we’ve been away so long.’
 
Yannis nodded, but Nico, still stinging from his outburst, wrapped his arms around himself and shrugged.
 
‘I’ll have the boys up at the Annexe tonight,’ said Polly. ‘Give you lot some space. But we’ll clear up first. Come on, guys.’
 
‘Come on, Nico,’ Gareth said. ‘Let’s put it all behind ourselves, eh?’
 
Nico slowly got up and joined Polly, Gareth and Yannis at the sink. In no time at all, Gareth was leading the boys in a rousing chorus of ‘99 Bottles of Beer on the Wall’, and everything seemed to be forgotten.
 
Rose looked at the scene of domestic near-bliss and wondered what had happened. When she and Flossie had left, she had felt that she was running the show single-handedly. Now everyone was pitching in and it looked like a well-oiled machine. Did she really get in the way that much?
 
She bathed Anna and Flossie together. Flossie was on good form, but a little dazed, as if she were getting used to everything again – at least, that’s how Rose was trying to see it. How wonderful, in any case, to have her two girls together again in their own bath. Anna was so good with her sister, helping to wash her hair, wiping the water from her eyes with a flannel.
 
Then, with their pyjamas on, they went up to Rose and Gareth’s room, lay on the bed and read
Winnie the Pooh
. It was one of the few things Rose had kept from when she was a child, and her name was scribbled hundreds of times on the flysheet – autograph practice for when she grew up and became famous, she remembered.
 
Anna loved
Winnie the Pooh
, and was soon tucked into Rose’s side, giggling at his misadventures. Flossie curled into Rose, sucking her thumb, not reacting at all when Anna pointed out the pictures to her.
 
They finished reading. Rose lay Flossie in her cot, which Gareth had moved, at her request, into their bedroom. Then she went down with Anna to her room, where they tucked up together on her pink princess bed. Anna held her face right up by Rose’s. For a long time she was silent, as if framing the best way to say something.
 
‘It’s funny they’ve all moved back up there tonight,’ she said at last.
 
‘What?’ Rose said. She had been starting to drift off.
 
‘To the Annexe.’
 
‘Well, Polly thought it would be better for the boys to be there tonight, while we get back together as a family. I think it was very kind of her. She’s absolutely right.’
 
‘You know, I prefer
this
family,’ Anna said.
 
‘What do you mean?’ Rose asked, stroking her cheek, her eyes half-closed.
 
‘Just you, me, Floss and Dad,’ Anna said.
 
‘Yes,’ Rose murmured.
 
‘Not me, Nico, Yannis, Polly and Dad,’ Anna whispered.
 
Rose jerked. It was one of those twitches that wake you from half-sleep, shaking you out of yourself.
 
‘But it’s not going to be like that again,’ Rose said. ‘We’re back now.’
 
 
She called goodnight down the stairs, then went up to her room, checked on Flossie, and climbed into bed. Gareth wasn’t long after. He got in next to her, leaned over, kissed her, and fell straight asleep. After nearly two weeks apart, they didn’t make love. This was unusual enough to be slightly disturbing for Rose. She could have reached over and drawn him in, but, to be honest, she didn’t really feel like it. Flossie being in the room with them didn’t help much, either.
 
They both fell asleep back to back, warmth radiating into the cold bed from where their spines met. At some point in the night they parted company and, when Rose was woken by Flossie wanting a feed, she found herself clinging on to her side, perched on the edge of the bed as if it were some overhanging cliff. Gareth was miles away, over the other side of the sheets. She felt she would need a limb extension, or a loudhailer, to get to him.
 
Twenty-Four
 
Rose slept like a piece of lead. After Flossie had woken her up, she had brought her into bed, lying on her side and letting her feed like a piglet on a sow.
 
She was awoken by the sound of Anna howling. Gareth wasn’t next to her. A lump of panic stuck in her throat as she looked at the clock: eight-thirty. She had overslept. She should be taking the children to school. Why was Anna crying?
 
She jumped up and moved Flossie to the middle of the bed, using pillows to fence her off from the drop on either side. She grabbed her kimono, which was back hanging on its peg, then she flew down the stairs.
 
‘Anna!’
 
She stopped in her tracks on the landing. Anna stood by the bathroom door, sobbing. Nico and Yannis were further inside, looking down with ghoulish fascination at something in the toilet. And there, standing behind Anna, her hands on her hips, was Polly.

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