Bad Mothers United (28 page)

I said, ‘Who is this, please?’

She went, ‘Who are
you
?’

I said, ‘It’s Karen Cooper. Is that Mrs Gale?’

‘Oh, Mrs Cooper,’ she said.

I have spoken to Daniel’s mum before, at Speech Day. Oh, and once when Daniel slammed his finger in the door and wasn’t able to drive Charlotte home so I had to go and collect her
from their Victorian villa (I think Dr Gale must have been out on call that night). Daniel’s dad I quite like, but I’ve never warmed to Mrs, mainly because she looks at me as if
I’ve crawled out from under a council grating. Perhaps she thinks if she turns her back, I’ll rob her. Not that they have a right lot worth nicking any more. Nowadays they live in
separate flats on different sides of the city, and Mrs G’s flat is over the top of Daniel’s. Funny arrangement, if you ask me.

I cleared my throat. ‘Would it be possible to speak to Daniel, please?’

‘He’s not in.’

‘What time will he be back?’

‘Not till tomorrow, I’m afraid.’ She sounded smug. I wondered why she was in his flat. Had I interrupted her nosing around or had she heard the phone and come down?
‘He’s out with his girlfriend.’

‘Girlfriend?’

‘Yes.’

I knew it was a trap but what choice had I? ‘You mean Charlotte?’

‘Oh no. That’s been over for weeks. Didn’t you know?’

And there we were. So I was bloody well right again, but wishing I wasn’t, and out of the corner of my eye Tweenies danced as though they were possessed by demons and Will giggled and
kicked the sofa. No Daniel. Daniel gone, moved on, lost forever to the family along with all the blessings of his goodness and patience and sanity. The young man who’d been part of our lives
for three years. Someone who never talked to me as though I was a fool or a nuisance, who was happy to tackle an awkward light bulb or nip up to the chemist to get Nan’s prescription for me.
Gold, he’d been. A treasure. And she’d driven him away and some new girl had snapped him up.

Though my hand was trembling, I managed to make my voice stay calm. ‘Obviously not, Mrs Gale. But thank you for letting me know.’

My throat felt too strangled to say anything else. I pressed
End Call
and threw the mobile at the armchair.

One by one the decent were abandoning me, leaving only the duplicitous behind.

I dragged Will round to Eric’s so fast his feet barely touched the pavement. It seemed like the only way to stop myself ringing Charlotte and screaming down the phone at
her.

‘She’s only gone and chucked her boyfriend,’ I barked in his face as he opened the front door. Without waiting to be invited in, I barged past him down the hall and into the
lounge where I parked myself on the sofa. No way was I emptying out this rant on the doorstep.

Kenzie was playing with Duplo on the carpet, and Will squatted down nearby to watch, his thumb in his mouth. Even in my stressed state I took in how tidy the room was: amazingly tidy for a man,
and when you considered the chaos in his garden and his van. The floor was freshly vacuumed, Kenzie’s toys stored neatly in a vinyl mesh bin, his and Eric’s shoes lined up under the
sofa. No loose DVDs on the floor or plates of half-gnawed toast balancing on chair arms. The decor was still Mr Cottle’s though. Eric’s programme of improvements hadn’t reached
this room, unless you counted the pub-style baseball mirror over the fireplace and a new net curtain at the window.

‘Are you OK?’ Eric asked cautiously, from the lounge doorway.

‘No. No, I’m very much not. Charlotte’s chucked Daniel and never told me. I’ve just had the news off his snooty mother. Made a right idiot of myself, because my own
daughter doesn’t think I’m worthy of her confidence. Never said a word to me, and I
knew
something was wrong. I said to you, didn’t I? Hell. I can’t believe it.
Well, I
can
. Stupid, stupid. I’m that angry with her!’

‘So I see.’ Eric stayed where he was. I wished he’d come and sit down with me.

‘Because I think the world of that lad. He’s sensible, he’s grown-up. You can have a decent conversation with him. I’d banked on having him as a son-in-law one day . .
.’ Will, strangely shy this morning, manoeuvred himself a fraction nearer the bricks. ‘No chance of that now, of course. Someone else has already snapped him up, according to his
mother, damn woman.’

On the floor above, something went thud. Both of us jumped.

‘The back bedroom window slams shut sometimes,’ said Eric, recovering himself. ‘I’m going to have to mend the latch.’

‘Oh. Daniel mended the latch on our pantry,’ I said mournfully. ‘He was just so helpful round the house. Carried bags of shopping, washed up. Reached things down off the top of
the cupboard for me. Unblocked the hoover pipe. Helped bolt Will’s new bed together. And he was always lovely with Nan, even on the days she talked nothing but rubbish. And polite. Politer
than our Charlotte. No eye-rolling or sighing, it was always a nice greeting, always a smile.’

There was a clatter from the kitchen and the next second a cat shot across the hall. I did a double-take. ‘Dear God, is that who I think it is?’

Eric stepped back out of sight and reappeared in the doorway holding Pringle uncomfortably round the middle, the way you’d carry a squashy pillow.

‘It is. He comes every day or so. Don’t you, laddie? We’ve shut the food away but it’s made no difference. Last week we found him on the drainer, drinking washing-up
water.’ He opened his arms and Pringle dropped to the floor, shivered his tail and stalked off. Something in the cat’s imperious manner reminded me of Charlotte.

‘Sorry,’ I said. ‘He has his own water bowl at home, Whiskas twice a day.’

‘It’s no’ your fault. You canna train a cat.’

At last Eric left his station by the door and came and perched on the chair arm opposite me.

I said, ‘I’m sorry. I don’t mean to just land on you and moan, only I really needed to sound off. It’s been such a shock.’

‘That’s OK. It’s just that I have to go out soon. A job over in Bolton.’ He tilted his head in Kenzie’s direction. ‘Via Radcliffe.’

Will had finally edged over to the Duplo box and was sorting through the tub of bricks after the little figures. Kenzie was building the green wall of something.

I ploughed on.

‘See, the problem with Charlotte is she’s never appreciated what other people put in. I’m not saying she doesn’t work hard – she does – only she doesn’t
think about the effort everyone else is making. And you can tell her till you’re blue in the face. She’s still no idea what a battle it was for me, bringing her up on my own. You know
what it’s like, Eric, don’t you? Sitting in night after night with no one to talk to, having to deal with every crisis and no one to share the load. It’s hard, isn’t
it?’

He nodded.

‘I didn’t have the kind of freedom Charlotte’s enjoyed, waltzing off and living the high life while someone else holds the baby. Not that I resent it – well, I do . . .
It’s vital she gets that degree, only she’s sat there like a queen bee while we’ve all buzzed round her. I’m not jealous. I want her to do well. It’s this, this
self-sabotage
, that’s what I can’t deal with. I’d have given my right arm to have a boyfriend like Daniel around. The way he took on another man’s child, treated
him – well, he was just wonderful with him, and I’ve watched her all this time and she’s not been
grateful
enough. We owe Daniel, all of us.’ I glanced down to
where Will rummaged. ‘And my worry, my big worry, is what’s
he
going to think when Daniel never comes back? Because that’s the nearest he’s ever had to a dad, and
you need a dad, or something like one. How much say has my grandson had in the matter? None, that’s how much. It’s not just her own life she’s spoiling. She needs to sit down and
think about it.’

At my feet Will grasped a plastic man in each fist and banged their heads together. I let my gaze linger on his rounded cheeks, his clean silky hair. His eyes were wide and long-lashed,
heart-melting. Charlotte didn’t deserve such a beautiful child. But then, when had she ever appreciated what she was given? Barbie dolls I’d saved for, left out and rained on; her
school PE kit lost I don’t know how many times. Six-month-old bike forgotten in the park, nicked by the time she went back for it. Careless, she was. Memories sparked off memories: my
daughter, aged eight, sitting in a Southport café, scowling and stabbing at a dish of spaghetti as if it was alive. Some row about something. A glittery cowboy hat with the crown stamped
flat.

‘It’s like, no matter how you try and smooth her path, she throws rocks into the middle. I’m sick of it, sick of it!’

Will looked at me for a moment, but then carried on playing. Eric cleared his throat.

‘Ach, people break up and get back together all the time. She might change her mind, and then if he’s still keen . . .’

‘No, because his mother said he was already with someone else.’

‘She might be lying.’

‘You think?’

‘Scoring a point. You said she was stuck-up.
You
don’t know if he’s got another woman, and I bet she doesn’t, either. Not for definite. Lads don’t tell
their mums anything, take it from me.’

The little spike of hope I felt at his words made tears well up. I lowered my face and patted my pockets for a hanky. ‘God, what a state to get into.’

‘It’s OK, Karen.’

‘Last thing you want, neighbours turning up and weeping on your sofa. I’m such a fool.’

‘You’re not.’ Eric shuffled forward and lightly rested his fingers on my knee. ‘Come on, it’ll work out.’

‘How, though?’ Another wave of self-pity broke over me. ‘She’s that perverse! You know, all I’ve
ever
wanted, from the day she was born, is for Charlotte
to have a better life than I managed. Realise her potential. I’ve worked so hard for that. Learned her spellings and tables with her, always turned off the TV so she could do her homework,
helped her revise for exams, bought her the right course books. Cut back on things for myself so she could have what she needed. Not that I mind, she had to come first. And she did pass her exams,
so that was a relief, and then Daniel turns up and I really thought I’d got her onto the right track. I thought, Yes, Karen, in the end you have done a decent job and all that
struggle’s been worth it. And OK, the fact he was a doctor’s son did make me glad because it’s a step up the ladder, isn’t it, and if thinking that way makes me a snob,
I’m a snob. But I’d have loved him if his dad had been on the dole. A diamond, he was. And she’s chucked him away.’

I buried my face in my hands. After a pause I felt Eric come and sit next to me and place his arm across my shoulders. I let myself lean into him, exhale, and it was so lovely to feel the
support of his hard, muscly body against mine and smell his spicy aftershave. This was what I’d come round for. I could sense the small shifts in his limbs, hear his breathing, hear the
clatter of stirred Duplo, and Will’s nose whistling because he needed to blow it. Kenzie was humming softly and I found myself thinking, It’s strange how little that lad has to say for
a four-year-old; our Charlotte was never quiet at that age. Maybe he had glue ear like Joe Evans in Year Four. I recalled Joe sucking a cushion in the book corner; a young Charlotte sucking her
thumb under the table during a fight I’d had with Steve over a bill not paid. Steve on our wedding day, the cuffs of his jacket hanging halfway down his hands. I pictured Steve with Lusanna,
racing up Rivington on his bike and then afterwards, in his bed. Would he compare my body with hers? Would he rate the sex as better? The world around me churned and buckled; nothing was the same
as it had been. The rules were all changing.

Go on
, went my inner demon,
turn your head now and give Eric a kiss. I dare you
.
I know he said he wasn’t on the market, but that was weeks ago. Things have moved on.
Think how he was at the reservoir that time. Held your hand like a boyfriend would. All you have to do now is tilt your head and put your lips against his skin. Easy. While he’s here, next to
you. Don’t miss the moment that’s being offered to you.

My heart began to thud.

This is why you came round. To be held, to be kissed. He’s right there, right by your side. Just do it, do it. Quick!

‘Need a wee, Grandma,’ Will broke in, piping and urgent.

I jerked back guiltily.

‘Potty, Grandma.’

‘Oh, OK.’ For a second I’d been in too much of a dither to process what he’d said. ‘I haven’t got the potty here. Can you hold on till we get home?’

Will clutched the front of his trousers and pulled an anguished face. ‘Need it now.’

‘You haven’t still got Kenzie’s old one knocking about, have you, Eric?’

‘Nah. We slung it ages ago.’

‘Right, well. It’ll have to be the toilet, then, like a big boy.’ I remembered old Mr Cottle’s chemical commode, tucked behind the stairs. ‘Where is the bathroom?
Upstairs?’