Megan 3 (11 page)

‘’Course they won’t! They wouldn’t be able to do that!’

Kirsty’s voice shook. ‘I think they can. They can do anything they want.’

‘Well…’ I tried to think of something to say that would cheer her up, and failed. ‘Chin up,’ I said weakly.

I put the phone down and, very thoughtful, went back into the bathroom. Ellie had got Jack out of the bath and he was sitting on her lap, pink and glowing and gorgeous.

‘He said, “Duck”!’ Ellie reported. ‘He pointed at it in the bath and said, “Duck”.’

I smiled. ‘He’s a little genius!’ I said, taking him from her and sitting on the side of the bath with him. I lowered my voice. ‘Here,’ I said, ‘who was that on the phone for George?’

‘A woman,’ Ellie said.

‘I heard him having a right go at her! He was swearing and all sorts – and then when Kirsty rang he told her to piss off.’

‘Bet it was his wife who rang!’ Ellie said.

As she spoke the phone began ringing again. It rang and rang but neither George nor Mum answered it.

‘You go!’ I said to Ellie. ‘Find out if it’s her.’

Ellie went into the hall. ‘Who is it, please?’ I heard her ask politely. She came back past the bathroom, grinning all over her face. ‘It
is
her,’ she whispered. ‘She said, “It’s Mrs Simpson.” ’

Ellie carried on down the hall, opened the sitting-room door and said, ‘I’ve got someone on the phone for you, George.’

‘I’m not in,’ George said abruptly, and I heard Mum murmur something in the background before Ellie closed the door again.

‘I’ll take it,’ I said to Ellie. I passed Jack to her and picked up the receiver. ‘I’m afraid he’s not in.’

‘Well, I know he is,’ the woman said. ‘And you can just tell him from me that unless I get some money, I’m going to take him to court and ruin him. The bastard!’ She slammed the receiver down.

‘I heard that!’ Ellie said in a gleeful whisper.

‘So it’s
him
who’s the bastard,’ I said. ‘Who’s going to tell him?’

‘Not me,’ Ellie said, and we both dissolved into giggles.

‘We’ve changed our phone number,’ I said to Lorna early on Wednesday morning. ‘So I’m just ringing to give you the new one.’

‘Why have you done that?’

‘Well…’ I took a breath and went on to explain about George moving in, and then about the phone calls from his wife – there had been about five the day before – and about Mum contacting the telephone people, changing our number and going ex-directory.

‘Your mum has moved a man in! There’s hope for me yet,’ Lorna said. She laughed. ‘I don’t mean that like it sounded – I meant that I just can’t imagine your mum with a boyfriend.’

‘He’s hardly Brad Pitt,’ I said. ‘He’s fat and bald.’

‘What’s he like as a person, though? Nice?’

I pulled a face, even though she couldn’t see me. ‘Not really. Ellie and I don’t much like him.’

‘Oh dear,’ Lorna said. ‘Your mum does, though, and I suppose that’s what counts.’

‘Yeah,’ I said uncertainly.

‘Is she happier?’

‘She’s… different. They go out places – he takes her shopping and to work and everything. And she can drive his car and we go out for picnics. He does things round the house, too – sorts out dripping taps and fixes curtain rails and all that. Men’s things.’

‘But?’

‘But he makes Ellie and I feel we’re in the way. And I don’t think he likes babies, either.’

‘Aah!’ Lorna said, her voice warming. ‘How is my darling?’

‘He’s fine,’ I said. ‘A new word every week now. The latest is duck.’

‘Clever lad!’

‘But something else – Mum’s put the flat on the market and she and George are buying a house together!’

‘No!’

‘It’s got a garden and four bedrooms and Jack’s going to have his own room – we’re all going to have our own rooms,’ I said. ‘There’s loads of space!’

‘It’ll be
lovely
for you,’ Lorna said.

‘Apart from George being there.’

‘Well, you won’t be around that much longer, will
you?’ Lorna went on. ‘Another couple of years and you’ll fly the nest and take Jack with you, and then Ellie will go and your mum would be on her own. At least now you won’t have to worry about her being lonely without you all.’

‘I s’pose not,’ I said.

‘Um…’ She hesitated. ‘Have you seen Mark at all?’

‘He popped in a couple of weeks ago, on a Sunday night,’ I said. ‘But we haven’t seen him since.’

‘I’ve written to him to ask him up here.’ She sighed. ‘He hasn’t replied, though.’

‘He said he was really busy on the newspaper,’ I lied.

‘I know he finds it difficult – finds coping with me difficult, I mean. Have you had a chance to say anything to him?’

‘Not really,’ I said. ‘Not lately.’

‘I know you will when you can,’ she said wistfully. ‘Do a good PR job on me, won’t you?’

‘’Course I will. I always do!’

‘I’ve joined this group of women now who’ve had their babies adopted. We talk about how we feel and try and iron out our guilt.’ She sighed again. ‘Someone said last week that it won’t be until Mark
has children of his own that he realises just how I feel about him.’

I didn’t know what to say. Every time I spoke to her she turned the subject round to Mark, wanting to know what he was doing, longing for me to say he’d mentioned her – just wanting some sort of recognition from him. I knew, though, that Mark felt that she hadn’t tried hard enough to keep him; felt that she should have held on to him no matter what. I’d told him lots of times that it was different in those days – that young mums didn’t get the support that we did now, and she’d had really hard pressure put on her to have him adopted, but it didn’t seem to make any difference. In Mark’s eyes she’d rejected him, and that was that.

‘I’d better go now,’ I said to Lorna. ‘We’ve got someone coming round to look at the flat tonight and I promised Mum that I’d clear up before I left. And you know what she’s like.’

‘That hasn’t changed, then,’ Lorna said. ‘And are you getting on all right at your educational place? How’s the studying coming along?’

‘Fine,’ I said.

‘Any sort of romance in your life?’

‘None at all,’ I said. I still hadn’t seen or heard
from Jon and I didn’t want to. Didn’t even want to think about him.

‘Join the club,’ Lorna said. ‘Have a good day and give my love to Mark when you see him, won’t you?’

‘’Course I will!’

‘And to George!’ she called just before I put the phone down.

As if.

‘Late again,’ Mr Creep said as I got in.

‘Only two minutes.’

‘Eight. This is a no-waiting zone. If I get caught and charged, who’s going to pay the fine?’

‘I don’t know,’ I said, thinking that if he could be bothered to get off his backside and come along the passage to give me a hand with Jack and all my stuff, as my last driver had done, then it would speed things up.

‘That’s just the trouble,’ he said. ‘No one knows. No one cares. You single girls with your fancy ideas and kids that the state has to pay for –
you
don’t care, do you?’

I looked out of the window. Why don’t you just shut it, I thought. I took Jack’s hand and pointed as a mounted policeman went by. ‘Horse,’ I said.

‘Duck!’ said Jack. Which cheered me up a bit.

I did a survey on stepfathers that lunchtime at Poppies. Out of the seven girls there, five had them. Of those five, only one liked hers. The rest had just learned to live with them. Stacey said hers never stayed long enough to be stepfathers, they were just ‘Mum’s friends’ and came and went so quickly she hardly bothered to learn their names. ‘OK, I’m exaggerating,’ she said, ‘but my mum is an argumentative cow and after a few months they’ve had enough of her and move on.’

‘You’ve got to weigh things up,’ Stacey said. ‘Either your mum’s on your back all the time and there’s no money for anything but you’ve got your place to yourself – or she’s occupied with a man so there’s more cash around, but there’s someone forever putting his oar in and interfering.’

‘It’s just that everything’s different now,’ I said. ‘We’ve never had anyone living with us before. It never occurred to me that she would… I thought my mum was past it.’

Everyone laughed. ‘They’re never past it,’ Michelle said. ‘Strikes me you’ve been lucky to get away with it for so long.’

I shook my head. ‘I just can’t believe how some mums – like Kirsty’s, I mean – put their boyfriends first. Before us.’

‘Tell me about it,’ Jo said dourly.

‘What’s the latest on Kirsty, then?’ someone asked.

I shook my head. ‘Not good. She rang me last night in tears, because Stella’s got to spend extra time at the hospital while they test her for something. She’s still not quite right, apparently, so they want to do some investigations.’

‘See!’ Stacey said. ‘Once they get the babies, they hang on to ’em.’

‘Yeah, but at least if they find out she’s not gaining weight because of a virus or something, then they know it’s not Kirsty’s fault for not looking after her properly.’

Everyone nodded.

‘She said she doesn’t like her foster mother,’ I went on. ‘She only lets her watch TV up to nine o’clock and then she has to go to bed.’

‘I stayed with foster parents like that before I got my flat,’ Joy said. ‘They treated me like I was a naughty girl. Like – you’ve had a baby and now you’re going to be punished for it.’

A couple of our tutors came in for us then
and everyone went off to do various tasks, leaving me and Michelle in the nursery.

‘Have you seen anything else of that Jon?’ she asked. ‘Did you give him the cold shoulder?’

‘I tried to,’ I said, ‘but he gave it to me first. Last weekend he said he’d come over in his mum’s car, but then he didn’t turn up.’

‘Typical,’ she said.

‘I mean – OK, he might not have been able to get the car or something, but he might have phoned,’ I said. ‘If I see him again I’m just going to blank him out.’

‘You do that, girl,’ Michelle said.

That very afternoon, of course, he was outside waiting. I saw him from the door and tried to duck back in again, but he’d already seen me.

‘There you are!’ he said. He was wearing a pale blue T-shirt and khaki shorts, though it wasn’t really the weather for them. I suppose he liked the look of his legs in them – tanned and muscular, I couldn’t help noticing.

‘Yes, here I am,’ I said coolly, looking down the road for Mr Creep.

‘I failed my test, didn’t I.’ Jon said. ‘So I couldn’t come over. Sorry.’

‘That’s OK,’ I said casually. ‘I was out anyway.’

‘What – all the time?’

‘Practically all weekend,’ I said, inferring a nonstop programme of fun and jollity.

‘I thought you didn’t have a boyfriend?’

‘It’s none of your business whether I have or not,’ I said. ‘Besides, you haven’t got to have a fella in your life to enjoy yourself.’

‘So you haven’t, then?’

I didn’t reply.

‘I find it hard to believe you’re on your own.’ He looked over Jack’s head and into my eyes. ‘Someone like you. You’re far and away the prettiest girl here.’

‘Yeah, yeah,’ I said.

‘Look, I really am sorry I couldn’t come over, right? I had an awful weekend – failed my test, then had too much to drink and got slaughtered for it by my dad. I just didn’t feel like seeing anyone.’ He tried to take my hand but I pulled it away. ‘Not even someone like you.’

‘Don’t worry about it,’ I said stiffly. Much to my horror I knew I was warming towards him, forgiving him. I could feel it happening and didn’t want it to.

‘You’re still miffed, aren’t you?’

‘No. Why should I be?’

‘You waited in all weekend for me to come over, didn’t you?’

‘No, I didn’t!’ I said indignantly. Talk about being sure of himself!

He took Jack’s hand and swung it. ‘Tell your mum I really like her,’ he said to Jack.

Jack chuckled.

‘She doesn’t believe me,’ he went on to Jack. ‘She thinks I’m spinning her a line, but I’m not.’

‘You won’t get round me like that!’ I said sharply, and then, to my relief, my taxi squealed around the corner and drew up.

Jon opened the cab door for me and, with as much dignity as I could, I clambered in with bags, changing mat, Jack and all. As I sat down, I could see Mr Creep staring at me in the mirror.

‘See you sometime,’ I said to Jon, very coolly.

‘See you
soon
,’ Jon said.

We drove off.

‘We haven’t seen him lately, have we?’ the taxi driver said. ‘So it’s all on again, is it? Was it a lover’s tiff?’

I pretended to be busy with Jack.

‘What was it about, then?’ he persisted. ‘Anything I can help you with?’

‘No thanks,’ I muttered.

‘Man of the world, me. Not much I couldn’t tell you about. What was it – something he wanted to do and something you didn’t?’

I felt myself going hot. I told myself that he didn’t mean
that
.

‘Lot of trouble caused by those sorts of things. Men have got their urges, see, and often women don’t fulfil them.’

Just stop now, I thought.

‘Straight sex is all right, but…’

I found my voice. ‘I don’t want to talk about it,’ I interrupted him. ‘I’m not listening.’

‘Oh, get you,’ he scoffed. ‘No better than you should be and giving yourself airs and graces.’

‘If you say anything else I’m going to report you,’ I said, my voice shaking.

‘Do that! See what good it does. You’re nothing but a little tart – who’s going to believe you?’

I picked up Jack and buried my face in his shoulder, holding on to softness, baby skin, the smell of talc and biscuits. I was so angry, so very angry. I felt I wanted to cry but I didn’t want to do it in front of
him
. Sometimes I hated all men.

I had a bad time with Jack that night. He woke up three times and played up so much that in the end even Ellie got fed up with him. ‘Can’t you
do
something?’ she hissed at me, and then went off in a huff to sleep on the sitting-room sofa. At one point – I think it was about two in the morning – George crashed into the bedroom and stood at the end of my bed.