Queen Mum (15 page)

That made me look up sharply. ‘No.’

‘Oh. That’s OK, then.’

I got to my feet and pulled the bed covers back into place, glancing through the window as I straightened up, but the girls had gone. Ben was absorbed in combing on gel.

‘Everyone has rows, Ben,’ I said, attempting cheerful. ‘Especially people who live closely together. It doesn’t mean they don’t love each other.’

‘Yeah yeah,’ he sneered.

I pulled the damp towel out of his bag and flicked at him with it. ‘Less of your lip.’

He grinned and turned back round to face me. ‘So they must love each other a hell of a lot next door at the moment, then.’

‘How do you mean?’

‘Juno’s back—’

‘Have you been round there? How’s her mum?’

‘Dunno, I didn’t get chance to ask – no, don’t start, I really didn’t, ’cause they were having a major ding-dong, her and the girls. A Jerry Springer-type
shouting match. I nipped in to borrow this off Soph.’ He held up a PlayStation game. ‘It’s a new “Broken Sword”, I’ve never seen this one before, the original
one’s fantastic. Soph said her mate was getting it for her, and when it came I could borrow it and keep it as long as I wanted. Then she texted me it had arrived, so I thought I’d pick
it up on my way past, only I didn’t ring the bell ’cause sometimes Manny’s in the middle of something and he doesn’t like being disturbed, so I went round the back to
knock-as-I-let-myself-in.’ He flushed slightly. ‘Won’t be doing that any more.’

‘Why?’

‘Like I said, they were having this barney. They were in the lounge and they didn’t know I’d come in. I didn’t stay long.’ Ben leant down to switch on the console.
‘I’d heard enough.’

‘What did you hear? Is Juno all right?’

‘You sure you want to know? OK, then, it was something like,
Just because I’m not in the house doesn’t mean my rules don’t still apply!
And then – ’ he
drew out his chair from under the desk and sat down, took out his new disc and slid it into the machine – ‘Sophie comes in with,
But we asked Dad. It’s not fair
. So then
Juno goes,
That’s not the point. You knew how I’d react. That’s playing one of us off against the other. I’ve always made it clear that that sort of ruse might go on in
other people’s households, but it’s never going to happen in ours!
’

‘What had Sophie done, do you know?’

‘It started as something to do with the TV, I think. Because then Juno goes,
I never stop you from watching television
, and Soph goes,
Yes you do!
and Juno goes,
Only when
it gets in the way of other, more important things
, and Soph shouts,
Important to who, Mum?
That’s when I knocked into the kitchen chair and they realized I was in the house. Juno
came storming through the door, then she tried to put on a smile because it was me, but really she was livid. Soph shouted, “Who is it?” and came through, and when she saw it was me she
goes, “I’ll get that game,” and runs off upstairs. Juno turns to me and says, and this was dead embarrassing, Mum; she goes –
She reads trash, she watches trash, she
looks like trash!
’

I could see he was buzzing with nerves.

‘Was Pascale there?’

‘Dunno, don’t think so. Manny wasn’t, because Juno used that line about waiting till your father gets home.’

The game loaded, he began to flick between screens.

‘What happened next?’

‘I came home to get some peace and quiet. Except you’ve been at it too.’

I touched his neck. ‘Not like that, we haven’t. I’ll go down now and make up, OK?’

He grunted.

I said, ‘What’s the matter with Sophie, do you think?’

‘Search me.’

‘I thought she might have told you. You seem very close.’

‘Nah, not really. Tell you what, though; that hole in Soph’s navel Juno’s always going on about, no wonder it won’t heal up.’

‘Does she keep putting the stud back?’

‘She’s got about ten different ones. Juno made her throw the original one away. But Soph just waits till her mum’s off the scene and sticks one back in. You knew that, did
you?’

‘I guessed.’

‘There’s not a lot gets past you, is there?’ he said, shifting forward in his chair to watch some men in robes waving their arms about. Then the action cut to the interior of
an aeroplane flying over a jungle.

‘You’ll want these washing, I take it?’ I asked, holding up the towel and the bag containing his swimming trunks.

‘Mmm.’ Lightning was playing about the aircraft.

I watched him for another twenty seconds, then I said, ‘Did you realize that Sophie’s got a crush on you?’

The aeroplane was now hurtling towards the ground.

‘Ben?’

‘I know,’ was all he said, but his back was rigid.

I went out before he crashed.

When the whole thing first kicked off, there’d been much debate at about where and how
Queen Mum
was going to be watched. Juno was supposed to be in London, at a
TV studio, with Kim, to absorb the poll results when they came through. But she’d still had this idea that we could be having some kind of party back at the house, in her absence. ‘You
can all watch me on TV in my posh togs,’ she’d said. ‘I’ll keep waving to you. It’ll be fun.’

But that was then. Now, with her mother so poorly, dying as far as I could understand, Juno wasn’t even sure where she’d be when the programme aired.

I managed to catch her as she packed her overnight bag again.

‘It must be awful, having to sort everything out on your own,’ I said. ‘Are you staying in your mum’s house?’

‘Yes.’

There was something very taut about her. I wanted her to talk to me about how she was coping. But the thing about bereavement is, it takes everyone differently. I wanted Juno to cry into my arms
so I could give her back a little of what she’d given me in the past. Instead she was getting through by being busy and snappy. Well, that was OK. You have to go with it, I’m telling
you.

So I thought about my dad instead. How he left us when I was thirteen, for another woman. How furious I was. How upset Mum had been, and how she’d never even dated anyone else, then how
pleased she’d been when I found Tom. ‘He’s a good ’un,’ she’d said after their first meeting. ‘He’ll see you right.’ She hadn’t wanted us
to get married so quickly, so young, but I couldn’t see any reason not to. Dad hadn’t come to the wedding, but he had sent a big cheque, which I felt honour-bound to offer to Mum. She
didn’t want it, though, so Tom and I used it to buy a washing machine. We weren’t in a position to go ripping up money.

The last time I heard from Dad was after Joe was killed. Mum must have told him, and he came down, actually came to the house, to see what he could do. ‘Nothing!’ I’d shouted
in his face. ‘You can’t do anything in this situation – no one can – go away!’ I think he’d been glad to get straight back in his car.

After Mr Peterson died, he became the man I hated most in the world.

All this Juno knew, because she’d let me tell her, over years’ worth of coffee.

‘Can I do any washing for you while you’re away?’ I asked, as she folded a cerise sweater and laid it neatly in her case.

‘Mmm, no. Thanks for the offer. It’s enough that you’re taking the girls to school and looking after them when they get home.’

‘I could get Tom to trim your lawn, if you want, next time he’s got the mower out. I know Manny’s got a lot on his plate too.’

She smiled. ‘That would be good. Thanks.’ She shut the lid of the case and sat down on the bed. ‘You know, Kieran was all right about my not going down for the results. I
thought he’d be furious.’

‘What did he say?’

‘I’ve to keep them up to speed, and they’ll set up a phone link if necessary, so I can be kind of present in the studio when they announce the winner. I’m going to pull
out all the stops to be back here, if I can. Don’t fancy doing it live from Bradford.’

‘I wish I could be more help.’

‘You’re being great. You and Tom’ll come and watch with us, though?’

I could imagine Tom’s face when I gave him the invitation. ‘Yes, of course. Do you want me to bring some nibbles?’

‘You’re so sweet. I should be able to manage.’ She looked at her watch. ‘Now, have I time for a bath before I set off? Oh, sod it, I’ll have a shower tonight at
Mum’s, after I’ve visited. It’s such a pain, Mum had her bath taken out because she couldn’t get in and out on her own. I hate that most about going over there, not being
able to unwind in a long hot bath.’

I said, ‘Does it seem weird, going back to the house you grew up in?’ I had a picture in my mind of girl Juno sitting, like a Mini Boden model, on a window seat overlooking the
Yorkshire moors.

‘I don’t believe I ever was there,’ she said. ‘My childhood feels like a programme I watched on TV once, a long time ago. It’s about
that
relevant to my life
now.’

She held her thumb and forefinger a fraction apart as she spoke, and I thought about my own childhood, how the memories of my Good Dad, and the way we’d all been before he left, were now
like leafing through someone else’s photo album. Foreign, unconnected.

‘Did you never get on with your parents?

‘No.
Never
. You know I didn’t!’

Her tone was so unexpectedly sharp that I had to drop my gaze to the toile de Jouy bedspread and concentrate hard on the blue shepherdess and her blue lover. Juno stood up and pulled the case
off the bed, testing its weight.

‘Oops, nearly forgot my book!’

She ducked down and slid an Ian McEwan paperback out of the bedside cabinet. Then she hoisted the case back up onto the mattress and flicked up the latches.

‘You OK?’

I nodded.

‘You look quite pink. You’re not coming down with anything, are you?’

‘Hope not.’

She studied me for a second or two. ‘Sorry if I sounded ratty. It’s a difficult time. Mum and I – you know what it’s like when you’re supposed to be feeling a
certain way, and you’re not. You said yourself, you didn’t miss your dad at your wedding till you realized you should have, and that was what upset you. You were sad about not being
sad. That’s what you told me, remember?’

I nodded again.

‘Do you think it’s good, I mean helpful, that very often we don’t know we’re doing something for the last time? You asked me that. After Joe died.’

I’d once confessed it had sent me nearly mad reliving that final twenty-four hours and ticking off the things I’d never get to do even one more time; putting out his socks for the
morning, reaching for his hand, squirting him in the bath with his squeezy Nemo, holding his coat so he could get his arms in, looking at his worm garden, wiping his face. Another mum in one of the
Internet forums told me that you have to grieve for each thing separately. I’d thought at the time, Then I’ll never manage it.

‘It’s hard not to be able to say goodbye,’ I said. ‘Then again, it’s impossible saying goodbye.’

But Juno was looking away, inside her own memories.

‘People talk about making their peace, but sometimes it’s not up to you. It’s not your peace to make. Are you thinking about your mum?’

She blinked at me and came back to herself. ‘Mum, Dad, whoever.’

There was a pause, then her smile came back and it was like a cloud passing away from the sun.

‘But that’s in the past. I’m more worried about the present; Lord knows what the girls’ll get up to while I’m away this time. Soph’s going through a very
strange phase at the moment. Damn hormones. I feel like shaking her and saying, “Where’s my lovely little girl gone?” ’

From across the landing we could hear the thump of music, two competing beats from different rooms.

‘She’ll come out of it. I was awful with my mum for about six months after Dad left. It was as if I couldn’t help myself, like being possessed. I can remember the sensation
exactly, opening my mouth and horrible words coming out that weren’t mine.’

‘What, and projectile vomiting, and your head spinning round?’

‘The works. I was foul.’

Juno was thoughtful. ‘The house does feel disturbed, now you say that. It would be just like Soph to attract a poltergeist. Look—’ She came and stood near me and I could feel
the tension coming off her. ‘Is there any chance you could have a word with her, while I’m away? Ask her if she’s OK, and whether she could pull her weight more, be more
understanding? Only, she thinks the world of you. She doesn’t see you as this Great Nag. She’s been talking recently about mothers-who-are-more-like-your-best-mate – all her
friends have them. New-generation mums. I fear I’m an obsolete model.’

I imagined Tom’s voice:
You don’t fear anything of the sort
. But I just said, ‘Yes, if you think I can help. Of course I will.’

I went round again late that evening because I’d discovered Pascale’s phone down the side of our sofa. ‘I only found it because it bleeped at me,’ I
told her. She fell upon it with a cry like a mother reunited with her baby.

Manny was bowed over the computer and Sophie was curled up in an armchair reading
Cosmopolitan
. Pascale’s homework books were laid out on the carpet. On the stereo Josephine Baker
sang about her
deux amours
.

I stood for a moment and drank it all in; the dark leather sofa, the kelim rug, the witty and chic ornaments on the mantelpiece. Above the bureau hung a studio portrait of the four of them,
taken last year, the girls in white blouses and Juno with her hair up so you could see her long neck and fine jaw-line.

It would be so easy to slot into this household, slide out of my own and into this life.

Before I left, I asked Manny how he was coping.

‘We’re fine,’ he said, showing his white teeth. He looked relaxed.

‘And Juno? How would you say she’s doing?’

‘OK, I think.’ He scratched the back of his head. ‘Tired, obviously, commuting backwards and forwards. Upset about her mother.’

‘Yes. More upset than I think she realizes.’

‘Could be.’ He looked so handsome in his blue shirt, collar unbuttoned. ‘And how are you doing, Ally?’ His eyes roved about my face till I felt suddenly shy.