If I Never Went Home (22 page)

So having failed to get a man I best be concentrating on doing a good job so I don’t give Mr. Robin a reason not to like me. After work I try to spend time with Margaret to help out with the baby. Most days she is knackered, and because she’s breastfeeding there isn’t much I can do with Karim. What she really appreciates is if I do a little cooking or wash some of the baby clothes as they don’t go in the washing machine. She’s so grateful for the little help and company that I try to go at least twice a week. I take pictures of the baby on my phone to show the rest of the staff. Nobody else mention Karim’s big head, so is best if I keep my mouth shut. How a nice-looking girl like Margaret and a reasonable-looking father make one ugly baby so?

One evening I was getting ready to dash out to Margaret’s after work when Mr. Robin stop me. ‘If you rushing to go by Margaret, let me give you a lift. I going that way myself.’

‘I not going to turn down a ride in a car with AC to hustle up in a maxi-taxi,’ I said. ‘You sure is not out of your way, Mr. Robin?’

‘No, man. Give me five minutes and then come outside. I will pull up in front,’ he said with a big smile.

‘I could come with you now.’

‘No. Give me five minutes and I’ll meet you in front.’

Whatever. I used the time to run in the bathroom, wash my face and fix my lipstick.

He was waiting outside. I got in the front seat of my fancy ride. I wonder if people thought that I was stepping out with my boyfriend or if they thought he must be my father? It wasn’t a long trip but we had a good talk. When he dropped me off he said he would be finished what he had to do in about two hours, and if I want he will come back for me. Well, I wasn’t going to refuse. He is not going to blow the horn or anything. I must come outside around seven-thirty and he will be park up on the street. And he said not to mention to Margaret he dropped me. He doesn’t want her to feel that since I started working she is any less important or that he likes her less. I understand that and I am the last person who would want Margaret to feel bad. She is like my sister.

That was Tuesday. Now every Tuesday I get a lift to Margaret’s house and then a ride home later. First week he asked if I wanted to stop by the Savannah for coconut water. We park up right there and had a nut each. I like the jelly inside as well and he made the man chop it open for me. He’s a perfect gentleman. He ain’t try nothing on me. And he asked a lot of questions about what I like to do and my friends and stuff like that. One time he asked if I liked Chinese food. I love sweet-and-sour shrimp and fried rice so he buy some. Another time he asked me if my boyfriend would get vex with me for getting a ride home with him and I told him straight – I don’t have anyone. Mr. Robin say he doesn’t want any man coming to beat him up when all he doing is buying a little Chinese food for their woman. I kept telling him – I don’t have a man.

Each Tuesday we have done something different. We might stop for a roti or just go for a drive. And we never actually said anything but he always stops at the end of my street and I walk the last piece to my house. I don’t need Nanny putting her mouth in things and then get Granny Gwen vex. Me and Mr. Robin never so much as hold hands, but people like to talk your business even if nothing going on. He’s such a sweet man. Sometimes he has a big Cadbury’s chocolate or a piece of cake waiting for me in the car. But Margaret’s maternity leave is ending, so today is my last Tuesday ride in Mr. Robin’s car. I have been living from Tuesday to Tuesday and now it’s almost over. I wanted to say something but I didn’t know how or what exactly. When he picked me up after seeing Margaret and the baby he asked what I wanted to do.

‘Let’s go for a drive.’

He moved his hand from the gear stick and took my hand in his so both our hands were together on the gear and that is how we drove. My heart was beating so loud I felt I couldn’t hear anything else. Then he moved his hand and put it on my thigh and started to rub it. Every time he rubbed he pushed my skirt up a tiny bit more. I was afraid to move a muscle in case he stopped. I didn’t want him to stop. Ever.  

CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

It was an unusually warm October day and there didn’t seem to be a free table outside, but Bea insisted. She had been clear when booking that she wanted to make the most of the exceptional weather during this birthday lunch for Nick Payne. A group of them would be meeting for drinks later, but she wanted to do something special for his sixtieth. Rialto Bridge near Harvard Square was his favourite Italian restaurant.

Her determination paid off, and five minutes later they were sipping prosecco in unexpected sunshine. She asked what he was doing to mark this watershed.

He hesitated, slowly sipping his wine. ‘Well, I’m making some overdue changes. Straightening things.’

‘Doesn’t sound like a lot of fun.’

‘It’s kind of now or forever hold your peace.’

Bea leaned towards him smiling.

‘Tell Aunty Bea what you’re doing.’

He laughed.

‘I’m serious,’ she said. ‘Tell me.’

‘We’re having a good time. I don’t want to spoil it.’

Bea sat back and drained her flute.

‘I think I need another drink,’ she said. ‘You ready for a refill? It’s your birthday, it’s Friday, and neither of us has to go back to work.’

A waitress took their food order and promised to be back with more prosecco.

‘On the house,’ said the server. ‘Somebody has a big birthday today.’

They thanked her and clinked glasses.

Nick sighed deeply. ‘You’re going to find out soon anyway.’ He paused. ‘I’ve resigned and I’m moving to LA. It’s past time I settled down. You know my partner lives there and he can’t move, so I’m taking a leap of faith.’

Bea stared at him. ‘Wow.’

‘Yup. We’re buying a place together.’

‘Well, this is a lot of straightening out for someone who’s avoided commitment this long.’

He laughed.

‘I think we have to toast to this,’ said Bea raising her glass. ‘Congratulations, Nick!’

They clinked again and then sat back enjoying the midday sun.

‘This is a shocker,’ said Bea. ‘I thought you were comfortable with the way things were. You have a great job. You guys see each other often for people on opposite sides of the country.’

‘Sometimes you have to stop running away,’ he said with a smile. ‘I’m getting old. It’s time.’

As lunch progressed they tried to keep the conversation light-hearted, but Bea could not banish a gnawing sadness that her mentor and sometime doctor would be gone. It was incomprehensible that in three more months there would be no more Nick. He had helped her and shown faith in her. Who else had ever believed in her like this? She ordered another drink.

Bea never made it to his birthday party that evening because she was passed out on her sofa with the television blaring. Too many glasses of wine at lunch, then back home she had mixed a couple of the vodka-and-soda-with-lemon combination she called a ‘skinny bitch’. At least she thought it was only a couple. The way her head hurt it might have been three. Could it have been four? 

She pulled the window blind slightly open and sunshine whacked her eyes. Outside, Saturday morning was in full swing, pavements bustling with people and children in prams and dogs being walked. She jerked the blind closed. Coffee. She needed coffee. And a glass of water. And where were the painkillers? Her head was pounding. She nestled back down on the sofa, a blanket around her shoulders, and realised she was still in yesterday’s clothes. The odd thing was that, terrible as her dry mouth and throbbing head felt, she was perfectly clear about what had to be done.

It had been so long she wasn’t sure she still had a valid number. They might have changed it years ago. On the third ring it picked up. A mellow rasping voice said good morning. She recognised it instantly.

‘Granny Gwen? It’s Bea.’

‘Bea? Oh Jesus Christ! Child, is you?’

‘Hi, Granny Gwen.’

‘Darling, how you going? You don’t call me or write me. If you know how I does think about you and I always praying for you.’

‘You doing okay, Granny Gwen? You been keeping well?’

‘You know I always had a little trouble with my pressure, but the doctor have me on tablet. Otherwise I going strong. If God willing just now I go see ninety years. Imagine that.’

‘That’s why I’m calling. I want to come to your birthday party if that’s okay.’

‘How you mean if is okay? Bea, you is my granddaughter. You is the first person who should be there.’

‘Thanks. I’ll book my flight today.’

‘And I hope you staying by me. I have a set of empty rooms here.’

‘I don’t want to put you out, Granny Gwen. Let me stay in a hotel and come see you.’

‘Bea, I don’t ask for much. Come stay by your grandmother. I have a girl does come in every day to help clean and cook a little food. I won’t get in your business and anywhere you want to go the driver will carry you. It don’t have no fancy hotel go treat you good so.’

‘Okay, Granny Gwen. If you’re sure.’

‘When was the last time you get hot sada roti and tomatoes choka for breakfast?’

‘You’ve convinced me. I’m holding you to that roti.’

‘Child, you don’t know how glad you make me heart to know you coming. You tell your mother?’

‘No.’

She could hear the old lady exhale.

‘Wait a minute, Bea. I want to get a chair to sit down.’

Bea could hear furniture being dragged across the wooden floor.

‘Bea, you still there?’

‘Yes, Granny Gwen.’

‘Bea, is time you forget all them problem that you had with your mother years back.’

‘Granny Gwen –’

She cut Bea off sharply. ‘Don’t feel because I’m an old lady I don’t know what happening. I know all about the confusion with your father cufflinks and that stupid little boy. Mira had him in she house and parade up and down the town with him as if she was a young thing. I don’t know what she was thinking but I know she paid a price. The boy stay must be six months and then he gone he way and is she left looking like an ass. Is Kevin who tell me everything.’

‘Well, Mira never tried to contact me once in all this time.’

‘Is shame she shame. Everybody does make mistake, child. Everybody. She is your mother.’

Bea rubbed her temples.

‘I guess I’ll see her.’

‘For your grandmother’s sake, darling. Don’t hold on to a grudge so long. Things like that does eat up your inside and you go end up getting heart attack.’

Granny Gwen was almost right. It wasn’t her heart she was protecting but her sanity. The conversation wasn’t supposed to be like this. Bea rubbed her temples with her free hand.

‘I’ll call again and let you know my flight.’

‘I love you, Bea. God bless you.’

‘Love you too. Bye, Granny Gwen.’

*

Two weeks later she was in the gold-and-black dining room of the Royal Savannah Hotel with over a hundred people honouring Granny Gwen in speeches and prayers. It was the first time she was seeing Mira again. They were seated next to each other at dinner and managed a stilted conversation about family and what had been happening in the country in the intervening decade. Bea was grateful for the lively chatter of other guests at their table. There was an old friend of Granny Gwen’s, Mrs. Ramlogan, with her daughter Indra, son-in-law Ricky and granddaughter Tina, a beautiful slim mixed-race girl with long slightly wild hair.

‘Bea, you know we met a long time ago at your father’s funeral,’ said Tina.

‘I’m sorry. I met so many people that day,’ Bea apologised.

‘It’s okay. I was little. I was there with my Nanny and Aunty Indra. My mom died when I was ten.’

‘I’m sorry to hear that.’

‘It’s okay. I’m just saying because you lost your dad. At least you still have Miss Mira.’

Bea forced a small, awkward smile.

‘And what about your dad?’ asked Bea.

The look on Tina’s face made her regret asking.

‘I don’t know who he is. My mom never said before she passed away and it seems no one else knows.’

‘That must be difficult for you,’ said Bea in her professional voice.

Tina shrugged. ‘I haven’t given up hope.’

They were interrupted by a call for Granny Gwen to cut her birthday cake, and she in turn wanted Uncle Kevin, Uncle Robin, Bea and her cousin Charles to come up and assist. The DJ played the Stevie Wonder hits ‘Happy Birthday’ and ‘Isn’t She Lovely’ while Granny Gwen beamed with the joy and lightness of a girl of nineteen rather than ninety. Bea wondered how she could even have thought of missing this moment. How many other wonderful family events had she deprived herself of with her self-imposed exile?

  After the cake-cutting Bea avoided returning to the table where Mira sat. She went over to Aunty Doris, Uncle Robin’s wife, who seemed less buoyant than she remembered, and was immediately treated to a litany of complaints. Charles was busy with his career and Uncle Robin was working harder than ever to keep the hardware going, which left her alone most evenings.

‘Bea, if I didn’t know better I would say your Uncle Robin have a deputy,’ moaned Aunty Doris. ‘That man don’t stay home like long time.’

‘I think Uncle Robin’s past that kind of nonsense.’

Aunty Doris laughed. ‘Is true. Who go want a balding old man like he?’

Bea took her hand. ‘Aunty Doris, you need to have something that is your own.’

‘We have a little group of ladies that does meet up once a week. Sometimes we go cinema or we might go for dinner. We even went to a casino one time. Otherwise I don’t really get out.’

Aunty Doris patted Bea’s hand. ‘But what about you, child? I know you not married, but you have somebody up there?’

‘No. Nobody I see a future with.’

‘Well, you can’t be looking hard enough. If you come back and live here we would be having big wedding in no time.’

‘And how come you haven’t married off Charles, then?’

‘He have a mind of he own. We introduce him to some nice girls from good families but he always finding fault with them. One too skinny, another one too quiet, a next one he don’t like how she laugh. That boy so fussy I don’t think he will find anybody that good enough.’

‘Charlie will be fine,’ said Bea smiling. ‘I wouldn’t worry about him.’

A waiter stopped and offered them drinks from a tray. They both took glasses of white wine.

‘I see you staying by Granny Gwen,’ said Aunty Doris. ‘What your mother have to say about that?’

Bea sighed. ‘Tonight was the first time I saw her. I don’t think we have too much to say to each other.’

‘How you would feel if Mira drop down and dead tomorrow and you didn’t fix things between all you? You have to think about that, Bea. I know she want to make up with you bad.’

‘How you know that?’ asked Bea, surprised.

‘I see she now and then. She didn’t have things easy. I know is your father, God rest his soul, but Alan didn’t treat her good. She sacrificed plenty for you.’

‘I know,’ said Bea quietly.

‘Then you will make time and go talk properly?’

Bea’s eyes filled with tears. She took a sip of her wine and looked away.

‘I can’t,’ she said, wiping her eyes discreetly. ‘I thought I could but I can’t.’

Aunty Doris held Bea’s hand tight.

‘Say your prayers and God will give you strength.’

‘Aunty Doris, I don’t pray.’

Aunty Doris smiled. ‘Don’t worry. I will pray enough for both of us.’

Bea kissed her cheek, then went outside, past the dance floor where sweaty bodies were getting down to popular soca music she did not know. Beneath the night sky she found a spot – a small bench hidden between palm trees – where her black maxi dress helped her melt into the darkness. She sat down with her head in her hands and cried tears that gushed from deep inside. She had come here to straighten out her life; to do the right thing. Instead she would be leaving more alone than ever, and this time there was no one to share the blame.

As she sat crying and wiping her face on her dress, she gradually became aware of the lyrics of the chutney soca tune blasting out. It was something about a girl named Radica who had left her man, and he keep asking, pleading, why she “leave and go, oh, oh, oh”. The tears turned into a broad smile as she got sucked into the easy melody.
Why yuh leave and go? Oh, oh, oh, Radica why yuh leave and go?

Even the music would not dignify her lack of courage. She got up. A short walk to clear her head and she could go back to the celebrations. It was almost eleven, and surely Granny Gwen would not last much longer. As she neared the swimming pool she bumped into Indra, whom she had sat with at dinner. They were ready to leave and couldn’t find Tina.

‘I haven’t seen her out here,’ said Bea. ‘But I was going to walk a little before going back inside. I’ll keep an eye out for her.’

‘Let me walk with you,’ said Indra.