Mothers & Daughters (41 page)

He looked at me for a long moment.
Don't ask me what I've promised to keep confidential
, his eyes said.

‘It was a damn shame she packed in her degree,' said Phil. ‘That you couldn't have talked her round. Whatever the circumstances.'

Dr Page stepped across to the window and addressed himself to the far hills.

‘She did what she felt she had to, at the time. I agree, it was a great shame she didn't complete her course. She was one of the best students in her year. But she's using her languages, and enjoying them – not every graduate can claim that. And you know, Steph and I are very fond of her.' After a pause, his focus came back to us and he smiled. ‘I really do believe Jaz has
turned an important corner these last few weeks. I know she'll want to talk a lot more when she gets home.'

‘I suppose we should say thank you,' said Phil.

Dr Page spread his hands, like a vicar giving a blessing. ‘You must have my number before you go.'

Damn right
, said Phil's expression.

Matty lolled against me and drummed his heels against the sofa arm. ‘Shh,' I said. He burrowed his face against my stomach, and it was as though we'd never been apart.

‘Tell you what, let him take those maracas,' said Dr Page. ‘He seems to have developed a fancy for them.'

Ten minutes later we were all back in the porch.

‘Is it OK if I ring Ian? Or do you want to do it?' I asked Jaz. I'd been rehearsing the question all the while she was upstairs.

‘Yeah, you do it.'

‘You know, I had to give him the key.'

‘Well, obviously.'

‘Right.' I took in her pretty, heart-shaped face and my heart clenched with hope. ‘Oh, you've had a proper fringe cut.'

‘Have you only just noticed?' She shook her hair out of her eyes, and took hold of Matty by his coat sleeve.

We shuffled at Matty-speed towards the gate. Phil took the opportunity to slip his hand in mine and I didn't pull away. ‘Come on,' he said, drawing me ahead. ‘It's a long drive home.'

‘What if she doesn't follow us?' I whispered. When I turned back, Dr Page had lifted open her car boot and was swinging cases and bags inside.

‘She will.'

Together we walked across the street.

I'm glad you were with me today, I thought. But I didn't say the words out loud.

CHAPTER 32

Photograph: unnumbered, from Carol's wedding album

Location: round the back of St Stephen's C of E, Tannerside, Bolton

Taken by: Ribble Photographic Studios

Subject: Carol stands in full-length white, white-capped, with a bouquet of irises, freesia and roses. Although she is smiling, there's a slight clenching of the jaw that betrays the fact she's frozen, as cold as the granite memorial tablets beneath the soles of her inadequate slippers. Her feet are in pain. ‘It's almost June,' she mutters to bridesmaid Eileen, ‘but it's like crossing the Arctic. It's not what you expect
.'

‘Nothing ever is,' says Eileen. The wind whips through the weave of their thin silk gowns and the ribbons round Carol's veil tangle madly. ‘I'll be as blue as my dress by the time this photographer's sorted,' adds Eileen
.

Earlier, when they are trying to warm themselves in the ladies', Carol says: ‘Don't let people boss you about when it's your turn. Have the wedding
you
want
.'

‘If I ever get married,' Eileen replies, ‘which I doubt. I'm running away to Jamaica and doing it on the beach. In a white
bikini, to a Sean Connery lookalike, and we'll leave for our honeymoon on a jet ski
.'

She's really weird today, thinks Carol. Jittery, distracted, near the edge. Snapped Phil's head off earlier over nothing. You wouldn't think she'd get so keyed up about being a bridesmaid, at her age
.

‘Best avoid the bouquet, then,' says Carol archly. She's too full of her own happiness to care much anyway
.

The first thing I noticed, on returning to Jaz and Ian's house, was that the gate had been replaced. An unpainted wooden one now hung from the hinges, while the old wrought-iron one lay flat on the lawn, grass poking up through the scrolls.

I paused on the step to listen. Some toy of Matty's sounded a klaxon repeatedly, and I could hear Ian's irritated tones over the top of it.

The door was on the latch so I knocked loudly, then let myself in.

It was the light that struck me. Where the hall used to be papered with a dark, embossed design, the walls were now a plain milk-coffee colour, and the woodwork gleaming white. The changes made the place seem much bigger, despite the stairs being once more cluttered with toys and washing and books. It was wonderful to see again Matty's plastic bits and pieces strewn about, though I noticed with a jolt that the wedding photo had been taken down from the wall.

‘Then get someone in to
fix it
!' shouted Jaz from the top of the stairs. Which is when she saw me. ‘Oh, Mum, hi. I was just sorting out Matty's stuff. I'll be with you in a minute.' She raised her voice unpleasantly. ‘Ian, can you stick the kettle on?'

Ian emerged from the lounge. He rearranged his features into a smile, nodded a greeting and headed for the kitchen. I
could guess what his face was doing once he'd turned his back on me.

I went to find Matty.

He was in the living room playing with one of those big multicoloured learning centres. The top section had a row of chunky talking buttons in various shapes, and the lower half was all farmyard animals that made the appropriate noises when you pressed them. Along the bottom was a flashing keyboard.

I lowered myself onto the carpet next to him and began to pick out the tune of ‘Baa Baa Black Sheep', while my grandson provided a descant of moos and quacks. It was a bit of a racket, to be honest, but no one else was in the room.

Even though he'd only been away a season, Matty had changed. His development had leaped forward. He knew all sorts of new words, plus a fragment of a song I'd not taught him, with accompanying actions. He could negotiate my back step without needing his hand held. He could turn the pages of a book by himself and build a four-block tower out of bricks. Every time he stayed over we had a marathon bedtime reading session, and after I'd tucked him in I'd go up four or five times just to lean over his cot and look at him. For a week and a half I'd had the bitter pleasure of discovering what I'd missed. And all the while, in the background, I was aware of Jaz still poised to deliver our fates.

Here she came now, stropping into the room, her colour high. I snatched my hand away from the keyboard.

‘Heating's playing up,' she said.

‘Oh, love. You look tired.'

‘Yeah, well.' She dropped onto the sofa. ‘I'm not sleeping. No one is. Matty won't settle when I'm in the room and I seem to be waking at every little squeak or sniffle he makes. So the nights are pretty long, aren't they, old chap?'

‘Why are you sleeping in there? Has he not been well?'

‘Ian's got our bed,' she said.

I didn't know what to say to that.

Instead I told her about Moira's sister's mini-trampoline she was getting rid of, and did Matty want it. ‘It's nearly new, it folds away, and it's got safety bars on the side. It's a decent one, ELC.'

‘Great,' said Jaz flatly. ‘Tell her thanks.'

I heard the back door judder open and shut, and assumed Ian had gone outside for something. But a few moments later, it was David who walked in on us. He must have left his shoes on the mat but he still wore his coat. From his gloved hand dangled a pair of secateurs.

‘Carol!' He laid the secateurs on the chair arm by Jaz, and opened his arms for me. I started forward, then panicked. Jaz was watching me with eyes like flint. I faltered, took a few more steps till I was within his range, and submitted to a brief embrace.

‘Nice to see you.' I pushed him away and stepped back.

‘And you,' he said, frowning.

‘How are you getting on?' Jaz asked him, pointedly moving the secateurs to the top of the bookcase where they'd be out of Matty's reach.

‘I need a hacksaw, I've come in to ask for one.'

Jaz turned to me. ‘We're taking out the elder tree by the kitchen window, Mum. It's making the room dark and rotting the sill outside. Cut out the
dead wood
.'

‘I thought you said you were getting another loaf,' said Ian, coming in with a tray of mugs and setting it down. ‘We've only crusts left. I can't do Matty toast with that.'

‘Well, you know, I've had a few other jobs to do.'

I said, ‘He's coming home with me in a minute. I can give him dinner.'

David was still standing in the corner, watching me. ‘It's been a while since I've seen you, Carol.'

‘Only a week,' I said, for Jaz's benefit.

‘A fortnight,' he said. ‘I thought we might have had a chance to catch up.'

‘I've been really busy, I've not caught my breath yet.'

‘It does seem to be all go.'

‘Ian,' said Jaz, ‘if you're going back into the kitchen, can you get Matty's coat off the hall radiator and stick it by the door, ready?'

He went out of the room, there was a pause, then he shouted back, ‘It's not there.'

‘What do you mean?'

‘I mean it's not there.' His face reappeared round the jamb.

‘I told you to take it out of the machine.'

‘No, you didn't.'

‘Yes, I did. Oh, for God's sake. I knew you weren't listening. Now it'll be wringing wet!'

She hauled herself up off the sofa, and as she bent her head I saw the blueish-grey skin under her lower lids.

Don't leave me alone with David
! I wanted to shout, but she was already gone.

‘Well,' he said.

Matty was prodding at the flashing lights on his board. I scrambled up stiffly, saying, ‘It must be difficult for both of them—'

‘Carol.'

‘I'd better go help out, if you can keep an eye on this one.' Quickly I slid past him and into the hall.

‘Carol?' he said behind me. ‘Carol!' But I pretended not to hear.

Afterwards, he phoned. ‘Let me come round and see you,' he said.

‘Wait till we hear what's happening. Wait till Jaz makes her decision.'

‘She's back home. She's made it.'

‘I don't think she has.'

‘Why won't you meet me, Carol?'

‘Let's just wait,' I said.

Sometimes I'd get out the wedding album and look at his picture, one hand covering Jacky. If the photos had been loose, I'd have got the scissors and cut her off.

I don't know why I assumed she'd invited me to go shopping and have lunch, like a regular mum and grown-up daughter.

‘I want you to come and see a flat with me,' Jaz said when I met her by the Civic Centre.

My hopes plummeted, there and then.

‘Don't panic,' she continued. ‘I'm not going far. But it'll be easier all round. Ian and I'll be able to talk to each other better if we have some space. At the moment it's just grim. The atmosphere's like you wouldn't believe. I've got to go or it'll do my head in.'

She took my bag for me, a small, unlooked-for kindness, and we began to walk up the High Street together.

‘It's bound to be difficult at first,' I said, ‘when you think what's gone on. I'm sure things'll get easier. Can you not give it a bit longer?'

‘Nope. This isn't a snap decision, Mum, I've thought it through. It's the best way.'

‘OK, well, how about you move in with me for a few weeks? And then that's saving you money, and you're not tied up in a contract or anything.'

‘Thanks, but I want to go with the flat.' She smiled tightly at me. ‘It's all right, you know, I'm not about to take off again.'

‘I don't think I could bear it if you did, Jaz.'

I glimpsed our reflection in the butcher's window, caught the way she lowered her head guiltily.

‘How will you afford it?' I said.

‘Ian. Benefits. I'll work something out.'

‘Does he know what you're planning?'

‘Yes.'

‘What does he think?'

‘He agrees. It's been too much of a shock coming together again. And he's angry with me, so fucking angry, and I'm angry with him and we've so much to sort out but all we're doing is fighting. So I've told him it's our best chance.'

‘Did you mean it?'

‘Yeah, I do.'

We passed the shop where I bought my grandson's Moses basket and his first car seat. Behind the window a couple stooped to examine the mechanism on a collapsible pram.

‘How's Matty with it all?'

Jaz shrugged. ‘He was having a tantrum when I left. Didn't want to wear his shoes, wanted to keep his slippers on all day. I've left Ian dealing with it.'

‘That's normal, coming up to two. You were a nightmare at that age. What are you doing for his birthday?'

‘I'm not sure.'

‘You could have some of his little friends round from nursery.'

‘Maybe.'

Please be together for him
, I wanted to say.
There's no better gift for a child
. ‘I could bake some muffins.'

‘Can't think that far ahead right now, Mum.'

We passed Boots, and Healey's café, and the side street that led down to Bark End and The Olive.

I said, ‘See the pet shop across the road? That used to be Falkirk's, where we bought your first school uniform.
Do you remember? Gosh, you were a little scrap in those days.'

‘Nick said you phoned him last week,' she said. ‘Don't worry, he wouldn't tell me what you talked about. He never breaks a confidence.'