The Bad Mother's Handbook (38 page)

‘Please, Daniel, tell us.’ I rose from the settee and he
let me take the envelope out of his hands. I started to
unfold the contents, a printout from some website or
other, an envelope paper-clipped to the back, and for a
moment I thought, Christ, he’s found Mum’s birth
mother, bloody hell what a can of worms that’d be. I sat
back down quickly, not sure what to do. But then my eyes
focused properly.
www.nationalsavings.co.uk
, the footer
read. A photo of a smiling woman with her arms in the
air, over the legend
Congratulations!
.

Mum leaned against my arm, scanning the page. ‘Is it
Ernie?’ she asked, and swallowed. She undid the paper
clip.

‘Don’t get too excited, chaps.’ Daniel grimaced with
emotion. ‘It’s not the jackpot. But it’s better than a poke
in the eye with a blunt stick. Tax-free, as well.’ He was
rocking on his feet; I think he’d have liked to run for the
door and take off down the street.

‘I’m sorry to disappoint you, Daniel, but I don’t think
we have any premium bonds. You must have typed in the
wrong letters or something.’ Mum’s voice was quavering
because, like me, she’d spotted the line where it said
£10,000!
. ‘This is somebody else’s prize.’

‘Lucky bastards,’ I said with a feeble laugh.

‘No, no. That’s what I was trying to tell you. It was
absolutely the wrong thing to do, to go behind your back.
When I spotted the bonds I should have handed them
straight to you—’

‘What bonds?’ Mum’s hand was really shaking as she
undid the flap of the envelope.

‘The ones out of that old bag. In Charlotte’s grandma’s
room. It was in with all those silk postcards.’
Daniel’s face was flaming, his hair spectacularly on end
where he’d pushed his fingers through it over and over
again. ‘Oh, hell, I can’t believe I behaved so crassly; I
should have just handed them over at once. I had this idea
it would make a nice surprise.’

‘Is there a James Bond on this afternoon?’ asked Nan.
‘He’s a swanky chap.’ Everyone ignored her and she
closed her eyes. Mum spread the yellowed bonds out on
the sofa between us.
Issued by the Lords Commissioners
of HM Treasury
, the one nearest me said.
£1
.

‘So Nan’s won
£
10,000?’ I laughed. It was a hysterical
thought. ‘My God, she’ll be able to buy cartloads of
belly pork!’

Nan opened her eyes and started to giggle too, though
I don’t think she had a clue what was going on.

‘No, hang on a minute,’ said Mum waving the page
and breathing hard.

‘What now?’

Mum frowned. ‘Well, there’s no name on the bonds
themselves . . . but it says Miss
Karen
Hesketh on the card
that’s with them. Does that mean . . .’

‘Oh, my God! I bet Nan and Grandad bought you
these when you were a baby! How many are there?’

Nan was smiling broadly.

‘Twenty pounds’ worth. That would have been a
fortune in those days.’ Mum got up slowly and knelt in
front of Nan, holding up the scraps of paper under her
nose in a fan. They looked a bit like bank notes. ‘Did
you? Did you buy these for me when I was born?’ Nan
carried on smiling but said nothing. ‘It’s very important,
Mother. Do you understand me? Did you buy these –
for
me
?’

‘They’re dated-stamped April 1963, if that’s any help,’
murmured Daniel politely.

Mum put the bonds into the dip of Nan’s skirt and
took Nan’s hands in hers. ‘Oh . . .’

Nan patted her daughter’s head absently, sighed, then
closed her eyes again. ‘It were a good big turkey,’ she
muttered. Her lips parted and she was asleep immediately,
head lolling onto the antimacassar. How do they
do that, old people, just drop straight off? Mum rocked
back onto her haunches and Daniel helped her to her feet.

‘OK, Mrs Cooper?’

She looked him in the eye. ‘Are you absolutely sure
this money’s ours? Because I don’t think I could stand it
now, you know, if you were wrong.’

He stared right back. ‘Mrs Cooper, I wouldn’t have
said a word till I was one hundred per cent positive.’

‘No, you wouldn’t, would you?’

‘No.’

So Mum cracked open a foul bottle of wine one of the
kids at school had given her at the end of term, and Daniel
had one glass and then went because he said we had a lot
to talk about. After I closed the door on him I went back
into the room and Mum and I looked at each other and
burst out laughing. ‘Oh, my God,’ Mum kept saying. ‘Oh,
my God.’

*

I
KNEW
C
HARLOTTE
had in her mind a huge shopping
spree; she’d have blown the whole lot on clothes
easily
,
might have taken a few months but she’d have done it. But
it was my money. I told her that straight off. Her face fell.

‘Well, can we at least have the bathroom done, then?
You said you would.’

I shook my head.

‘Well,
what
, then?’ She was brewing a strop, it was quite
funny to watch. Well, all that tension had to go somewhere.
‘You’re not going to stick it all in the bank for a “rainy day”,
surely? Come on, Mum, life’s too short.’

Emma nodded at me.

‘I will share this money with you. In fact I’ll split it
down the middle, fifty-fifty.’ Her eyes lit up.
£
5,000 to
spend in Top Shop! ‘But listen, we need this money to do
something very important.’

‘What?’

‘It’s going to get us both through university.’

You could see the cogs going round.

‘Both? Are you . . . ? D’you know, I
thought
there was
something going on with you and college. Bloody hell.’ She
was shaking her head. ‘Will they take people so . . . people
like you?’

‘Get away.’ I made to give her a kick. ‘I’ll be a mature
student. Yes, all right, stop pulling faces, it’s not that funny.
There are thousands like me, apparently, I’ve been looking
into it. I just never thought it was really on, what with the
cost. But as soon as Daniel told us. . . . Oh, Charlotte! I still
can’t believe . . . There are debts to be sorted, quite a few of
those, store cards, catalogues . . .’

‘My computer.’

‘Your computer. But the rest is going to pay for a
teacher training course for me at Manchester Metropolitan,
and your English degree, wherever you decide to do it.
Because you must go on and do it now, Charlotte.’

I felt so full of energy, like I really was ready to step into
this new millennium everyone kept going on about.

‘I never had any intention of not applying,’ she said, a
bit haughty. ‘But I can always get a loan.’

‘I could throw this glass of wine over you. Don’t be so
daft! Why get in hock when there’s a big lump of cash
sitting there for the purpose?
And
it’ll help fund a place for
Will at the best nursery we can find. If you’re all right with
that.’

‘Course it is; God, don’t ask me. You’ll be lumbered
with the little star while I’m away, it’s for you to decide.’
She combed her fingers through her hair and sighed.
‘Bloody hell, Mum, it sounds mental, but £10,000’s hardly
going to be enough, is it?’

I took a swig of wine. ‘It won’t cover everything, no,
but it’ll give us a damn good start.’

‘You going to tell Dad? He gave us some out of that
bogus compensation claim that time.’

‘He didn’t, actually. Although it wasn’t his fault; he was
supposed to get thousands but the claims company took
most of it in fees. Serves him right, painting on bruises with
eyeshadow. So, no, I think we’ll keep quiet for now. Not
that he’d begrudge it going on your education, he really
wouldn’t. He’s proud of you.’ Even if he does find you
scary.

She kicked off her mules, stretched out on the sofa and
put her feet in my lap like she used to do when she was
very young. It was such an ordinary, intimate gesture, but
she’d never have done that six months ago; when we hated
each other. I looked down at her neat young toes and for
a second remembered her as a baby, a startling memory of
fat feet pressing into my naked thighs as I held her up,
giggling, by her baby armpits. All that clean, innocent skin,
this little piggy.

I came out of the dream and tuned back in.

‘What I don’t understand, though,’ she was saying, ‘is
why the Premium Bond people didn’t contact us. Is it like
the lottery, it’s up to you to check your numbers?’

I took her toes between my palms and she squeaked
and wriggled; what a shock that we could be like this
again. I was overwhelmed with the desire to bend right
over and give her an enormous hug, thank her for having
once been such a beautiful baby, but she’d have thought
I was unhinged. Instead I just said; ‘Yes, I was thinking
about that. They’re supposed to write. We should have
had at least one letter the October, November before last.
I wonder what happened to it.’

From the armchair, Nan smacked her lips and
muttered. Charlotte turned her head round to look, then
made a despairing face at me.

‘Oh, God. She could have done anything with it, Mum.
Toasted it, pushed it under a carpet, stuck it behind a
pic—’ She gave a funny sort of giggle. ‘Well, who knows.
They could have sent us a whole load of
Congratulations!
and she’d have snaffled them one after the other. Like
having a vicious dog lurking behind the letter box. Who
knows
what
vital communications we’ve lost over the last
couple of years. But then, you’d think they’d have used
the telephone . . .’

‘Which she won’t ever answer.’

Charlotte clapped her hand to her brow. ‘And if we
were tied up and missed the call . . .’

‘They don’t keep trying for ever. There are thousands in
unclaimed prizes, apparently, Daniel said.’

‘Thousands of people with grannies who eat the post?’

‘Maybe.’ I thought of what the New Year was to bring,
the bed waiting for Nan at Mayfield. Remembering was
like having a family Bible settle on your chest. ‘Anyway,
that’s one problem we won’t have to deal with any more.’

L
EO CAME
in the evening, after Nan had gone back. I told
him about the money; I wasn’t going to at first, but then it
just came out. He was delighted for us, as I knew he would
be. He
is
a nice man.

*

There are
a lot of things money can’t touch, of course.

It was so weird leaving Nan in that home. We got her
set up in her room – a pleasant one with a bay window
and a tree outside that hid most of the car park – put her
slippers by the bed, her underclothes in the drawers,
her knick-knacks out on the shelves. She didn’t have
much with her. Big photo of Will on one side of the bed,
Mum’s wedding on the other, but pride of place went to
a blown-up print of her and Grandad sitting on a form,
they look about twenty, having a cuddle. She’s got white
stockings on and black shoes with a bar across and her
hair is straight and shoulder-length. She’s looking into
the camera, only half-smiling, as if she has something on
her mind. He’s looking at her, his arms tight round her
shoulders, shy grin. His legs are out in front of him and
you can see four little studs at the front of each sole. They
are so
young
.

‘You’ll be able to watch the birds, Mum.’

‘Aye.’

When we walked away she was sitting on the bed
like a lost child. Matron was chatting away to her but she
wasn’t taking much notice.

‘I don’t think I can stand it,’ said Mum clinging to the
door jamb.

‘Come on. Quick, before you bottle it. If she’s really
unhappy after a few weeks, you can think again, but
you’ve got to give it a try. The doctor said it was the best
place.’ I took Mum’s sleeve and pulled her away, down
the corridor. Bertie trotted past us, tail beating. I watched
with my fingers crossed, and he disappeared into Nan’s
room.

‘I need a drink,’ said Mum.

‘Do we not need to get back for Debbie?’

‘I told her half three and it’s not half two yet. She’s got
my mobile if William plays up.’

So we found a wine bar, and sat there for nearly an
hour, just two women sharing a bottle of Chardonnay.

*

C
HARLOTTE HAD BEEN
moth-eating me about filling in
the family tree at the front of William’s Baby Record book.
I’d drawn a blank after three generations, so I told her to
ask Nan. ‘Take those old photos in the shoe box while
you’re at it, I’ve been meaning to get them labelled up for
ages. And leave William here with me or you’ll never get
anything done.’

When she came back she was bubbling with excitement.

‘God, it was mad, Mum! They had a full-scale emergency
on when I got there because this old biddy reckoned
she’d seen her friend eat a bit off a firelighter. They had
an ambulance out, the doctor, everyone running round
looking for the First Aid book, do you induce vomiting
or not. Then in the end it turned out to be a chunk off a
Thornton’s nougat casket. Matron had to have a sit down
after. Never a dull moment at Mayfield, she says.’

‘And how was Nan?’

Charlotte started unpacking the carrier bag of photos.
‘Amazing. It was like switching a light on, Mum; she just
came to life. We talked for hours and it was dead interesting.’

She pulled some photos out of an envelope and laid
them on the table. I stuck William under his baby gym
and came to see.

‘That one’s their wedding day.’

‘I guessed that.’

‘Yeah, but check out that hat! You can hardly see her
face. Is that the locket she still wears?’

‘Probably. Gosh, doesn’t my dad look dapper with his
buttonhole . . . He was no age when he died, it was such a
shame.’ I picked up the picture and held it to the light. The
dad I’d known had always been tired and short of breath;
here was a young, happy, vigorous man starting out in life.