The Bad Mother's Handbook (34 page)

‘No, Mum, I’ll bring him tomorrow.’

She looked vacant for a second, then she was back
again.

‘Ooh, it is lovely to see you, I can’t be doing with
hospitals, everyone talks rubbish. And you look bonny;
have you a new frock on?’

‘No, Mum. It’s C&A, I got it when we went to Chester
that time. Do you remember? It poured down so all we did
was go in shops.’

‘Aye. No, not really. Have you brought that little baby,
then?’

A
FTER THAT
I went back to Steve’s and accidentally slept
with him.

‘You’re full of surprises, you.’ Steve shifted so he was
leaning up on his elbow. ‘I’d have changed t’ sheets if I’d
known.’

‘Oh God.’ I closed my eyes in irritation. ‘Why do you
have to be so disgusting! You’re never any different.’

‘It’s part of me charm.’

When I left the hospital I was too upset to go home so
I went shopping. After an hour wandering round Debenhams
I still didn’t feel like going back, so I stopped off
at his house. I was hoping for a cup of tea and half an
hour to get my head round things before I talked to
Charlotte. What I got was Steve fresh out the bath, clean shaven again and slightly tipsy still from the night before.
‘I’d best sober up, I’m back at work in two hours. I hate
these evening shifts. I could do wi’ workin’ part time.’

‘You could do with packing up altogether,’ I laughed.
I’ve never known anyone as lazy.’

He scratched his head amiably. ‘Aye, well, life’s too
short. So, what can I do you for? Everything all right with
our little belter?’

I told him about the consultant. ‘You see, Nan’s so
trusting, she’s like a baby herself. I couldn’t put her in a
home, it would be cruel.’

Steve pulled at the belt of his dressing gown. ‘Aye, it’s
a poser. Can social services not sort summat out for you?’

‘I don’t know. They’ll have to, won’t they? Oh, the
thought of having to go through all those different departments
again and fill in all those assessments.’ I didn’t
want to have to go near their offices again either in case
I bumped into Joyce Fitton and had to face the look of pity
in her eyes. ‘It’s been one thing after another this year. I
must have broken a mirror or run over a black cat.’

‘I’ve been thinking,’ said Steve (and he moved chairs to
sit next to me), ‘this in’t the drink talking, you know, this
has been on my mind for a while.’

‘What has?’

‘All it is, I’ve enjoyed helping out a bit more, you know,
being around, involved. It’s nice to see more of Charlotte
now she’s not so hoity-toity all the time, it’s done her good
to roll her sleeves up and change a few nappies. I’m not
much of a one for babies—’

‘You can say that again.’

‘No, fair enough, but the lad’ll need someone to play
footie with him as he grows up and I’d quite like to be,
well, around.’

‘You are. You’ve been quite helpful at times. What are
you trying to say, Steve?’ I was aware of his arm pressing
against mine and the smell of his aftershave.

‘Are you seeing that feller?’

‘Who? Leo Fairbrother?’

‘Yeah, th’ headmaster.’ He rubbed his lip where the
moustache had been. ‘Is he your boyfriend?’

‘No.’ This was true; absolutely nothing had happened
between us and it didn’t look as though anything was ever
going to. I had no idea what Leo was up to, but it didn’t
seem as though a great seduction was on the horizon.
I’d more or less given up. ‘What about you? What about
that woman from Turton, that one who ran the London
Marathon?’

‘Oh, her? She were nowt.’

‘Nowt as in Nothing or Nowt as in Bad-tempered?’

‘Both, really. She wanted me to go jogging, can you
imagine? I said, the only way you’ll get me to jog is to put
a pub at t’ finishing line. She weren’t amused.’

‘What are you like.’ I nudged him good-humouredly,
he nudged me back and it turned into a clumsy embrace.
His face loomed into mine, his lips hit my cheek then my
mouth, and my face went into shock. ‘Bloody hell, Steve,
what are we doing?’

He stopped. ‘Why? Do you not like it?’ He had a
point; it was very nice. I’d not slept with anyone for over
a year; some of the men at the Over Seventies were beginning
to look pretty tasty. ‘No strings, come on. It’ll do us
both good.’

‘I can’t sleep with you, don’t be ridiculous.’

‘You know your trouble?’ said Steve kissing my neck
where he knew I liked it. ‘You look for problems.
Sometimes you just have to go with the moment. Stop
analysing everything.’ His hand dipped under my collar
and eased down my bra strap, making my nipples tingle
with anticipation. His dressing gown fell open. ‘You don’t
know what you do to me.’

‘I’ve a fair idea,’ I mumbled as he unbuttoned my top.

‘D
OES THIS MEAN
I’m back in, then?’ Steve pulled his
jeans on and fastened them round his skinny waist.

‘Back in where? Have you seen my tights?’

‘They’re here, stuck on this lampshade.’ He threw them
over. ‘Back in the bosom of me family.’

I wriggled my hand down inside each leg to turn the
tights right-side out. ‘Get off. It’s not like you live in
Australia, is it? You are part of the family, whether I like it
or not; you’re Charlotte’s dad and she needs you around
at the moment.’

‘I were thinking, though.’ He sat down on the edge of
the bed. ‘We could have another go, couldn’t we? I don’t
mean move back or anything mad like that, but we could
meet up for a drink sometimes and, and . . .’

I located my shoes, slipped them on and stood looking
down at him. ‘No, Steve, no way. It would be too complicated.’

‘Complicated? I’m about the least complicated chap
you could have. There’s nowt complicated about me, now
is there? Go on, admit it.’

I sighed. ‘That’s not what I meant. The answer’s no.’

‘Ahwww. I’ve got you a smashin’ Christmas present,
an’ all.’

‘Bribery won’t get you anywhere. We haven’t bought
each other Christmas presents for thirteen years. I’m not
going to start now.’ I picked up his mucky hairbrush and
tried to smooth my hair without actually touching the
bristles. ‘Let’s quit while we’re ahead, eh? You can come
round when you want, but no more of this malarky.’

He put his face under mine and grinned. ‘It were good
though, weren’t it?’

*

The first place
we went to was at the bottom of the
village: Bishop House. The air had been freezing, the sky
looked like tracing paper and the tarmac drive was slippery
under the pram wheels. The light was failing too,
even though it was only mid-afternoon. As far as I was
concerned Bishop House had just been a big Victorian pile
behind some conker trees on the bus route to Bolton, but
now there was every chance it could be Nan’s new home.

‘You see,’ Mum had said over breakfast, ‘I’m not sure
I can give her the care she needs. She’s been really poorly
and she’s never going to get completely better. That’s
what the doctors say. She needs qualified nurses round
her twenty-four hours a day.’

I stared out of the window trying to take in the news.
The Ribble bus went past and I remembered the trips with
Nan to Wigan on the top deck, and the Pick ’n’ Mix from
Woolworth’s we always used to choose together. I really
enjoyed going shopping with Nan as a child because there
was never a row
and
I got my own way and a bag to put
it in. She loved my company, and I loved hers, simple.
Then, as I got older, things changed; I changed. For all
those hours she’d spent cutting pictures out of catalogues
for me and helping me make pastry animals, suddenly
I never had the time for her any more. God, I’d let her
down.

‘I could help out. Can we not get the council to put
in one of those stairlifts Thora Hird’s always chuntering
on about? They do walk-in baths too, I’ve seen them
advertised during
Countdown
. If the two of us work
together . . .’

Mum shook her head. ‘You’ve more than enough on
your plate. It’s all you can do at the moment to wash your
armpits in a morning and put your sweater on right-side
out. Well, isn’t it? You don’t understand the level of attention
she’ll need,
I
didn’t at first. You’re thinking of the
old Nan, Nan as she was. She’s a different person now.’
She was speaking in a slow, sort of rehearsed way that
made me think she’d been over the arguments again and
again.

‘I feel as if she’d died, it’s horrible, Mum.’

‘You mustn’t think like that, Charlotte.’ Mum stirred
her coffee rapidly, but she didn’t elaborate.

We sat in gloomy silence while Will watched us seriously
from the hearthrug. I tried to get some cornflakes
down but they stuck in my throat. I’d really thought, once
Nan was out of danger, it was simply a matter of time
and she’d be out of hospital, back home and making a
nuisance of herself. I mean, here we were on the verge
of the twenty-first century, they could send cameras to
Jupiter and Saturn, so why couldn’t medical science sort
out her wayward limbs? It was unbelievable that Nan
wasn’t coming home.

‘We’ll find somewhere nice with some young male
nurses she can flirt with. Everyone’ll love her, she’ll be
happy as Larry once she settles in.’

I was still wondering about this as the huge front
door of Bishop House opened and a smell of pee hit us. I
noticed Mum had got baby sick all down the back of her
sleeve, but I knew she was so keyed up it was probably
better not to mention it. We pushed Will up the wheelchair
ramp and parked him in the hall while the young
girl who had let us in went to fetch the Matron.

‘God, it’s hot in here,’ said Mum, unwinding her scarf.
‘You’d better unwrap William before he cooks.’

As I was fiddling with the baby’s blankets a tiny old
man came out of the TV lounge and moved shakily
towards us. He fixed on my mother and snapped: ‘I need
to go to the toilet!’

Mum raised her eyebrows at me. ‘I’ll see if I can find
a nurse.’

‘You don’t understand, I need to go
now
.’ His eyes
were watery and desperate; he made me want to throw
up.

‘Hang on, Mum.’ I popped Will back down and ran
along the hall, round the corner (only four old ladies playing
cards in a side room), doubled back and checked up
the stairs to the landing, but there were no staff in sight.
‘Nurse!’ I shouted. ‘Nu-urse!’ a white-haired biddy in a
blue dressing gown sang back at me cheerfully. She waved
at me over the banisters till I got to the bottom. ‘You’d
think they’d have a bell or something . . .’ I called as I
stalked crossly back to the pram, but Mum and the old
man had vanished. I hoisted Will out again and went to
sit on the stairs to wait. Finally she reappeared, frowning.

‘Honestly! That poor man.’

‘You didn’t—?’

‘Well, of course I did, once we’d found where the
toilet actually was. He was terribly upset. Did you
manage to find a nurse?’

‘Nope. So, did you have to,
wipe his bum
?’ I couldn’t
believe what she’d just done. I was full of appalled
respect.

‘
No
, only his willy.’ Mum checked her watch. ‘What
can that woman be doing? Don’t look so funny, it’s only
what I have to do at school sometimes only on a bigger
scale, Reception are forever having toilet incidents. If it
had been Nan you’d have wanted someone to help her,
wouldn’t you?’

That shut me up. We waited for another five minutes
under the feeble Christmas decorations stuck to the light
fittings, then the young girl came back.

‘Mrs Street says she’s very sorry but she’s been
delayed.’ She lowered her voice. ‘A resident passed away
this morning and she’s with the daughter now. But I can
be showing you around till she’s free.’

We walked along behind the girl whose hair needed
washing. It was a sad route. Every door opened like a
blighted Advent calendar: a lady on her own, slumped in
an easy chair, watching
Bodger and Badger
on children’s
TV; three old women all asleep where they sat, sticks laid
on the floor; a bald, hunched man sitting looking out of
a bay window at the gathering dark. The furniture was
cheap and nasty, house-clearance stuff in white melamine
or black ash and the carpet was that rough, corded type;
some of it was stained. In one room we passed a lady was
lying in her bed shouting, ‘Help! Help!’

‘Do you not need to go in to her?’ asked Mum.

The girl smiled. ‘No, she’s all right, our Mrs Wallis.
She always does that, then when you go in and ask her
what’s up she says, “Was I shouting?” She’s fine, really.’
She shut the door on Mrs Wallis’ cries. ‘It’s a lovely place
for them, they get their meals laid on and their own
rooms, and there’s always company for them. We do
bingo and concerts too. The children are coming from
St Peter’s next week to do carols in the dining room. It’s a
nice home, this one.’

I searched for irony in her face but there was none.
I grasped Will to me and he rooted against my shoulder
and whimpered.

By the time we got outside we were nearly hysterical
with the horror of it all. I could see the relief on my mum’s
face in the security floodlights. Her breath came out in a
frosty cloud.

‘We can’t send her there!’

‘Oh, thank God, Mum. It was
awful
. The thought of
her in with that lot . . .’

‘I know. And yet, do you know, I think the staff were
trying their best. It’s just so sad . . .’ She shook her head.
‘That commode, though!’ She started to giggle.

‘Well,
I
didn’t know what it was, I thought it was
just a seat. I was tired; you try carting Fatso here round
for forty minutes, I thought my legs were going to give
way.’

‘It wouldn’t have been so bad if it had been empty . . .
Your face!’