The Girls from See Saw Lane (23 page)

O
nce Mary
and her mum had left I started cleaning up the flat. I washed the dirty dishes that were stacked in the sink and got on my hands and knees to clean the kitchen floor. I scrubbed every inch of the bathroom. Then I went into the bedroom.

I picked up the unwashed clothes that Mary had simply dropped on the carpet. I tried not to, but I couldn't help being disgusted by her slovenliness. There were soiled baby clothes as well as Mary's dirty underwear and creased nighties on the carpet, and that was covered in a layer of hair and dust. She had spent so long in the bed that the sheets were dampish and musty, blooming with faint, pinky stains. They were still warm and had that same strange smell about them, a smell of sweat and unhappiness. I put the blankets and quilt in the corner and took off the sheets, balling them into the dirty linen pile I'd already made. I'd take the washing down the launderette later. It took me a while, but I heaved at the mattress until I managed to turn it, then I fetched some clean sheets from the airing cupboard in the bathroom. I remade the bed, smoothing the under sheet, taking care with the coversheet. Mum had taught Rita and me how to do hospital corners, because she said there was nothing nicer in life than a well-made bed. 

I walked across to the window and opened it wide to let in some fresh air. It had stopped raining and everywhere smelt fresh and new. The flats backed directly onto the Downs. I leant on the window ledge and stared out at the hills. They were green and gentle, wrapped around Brighton like a giant pair of arms, protecting the city. Above the hills, white clouds were drifting lazily through a perfect blue sky.

Spring was just around the corner, but it wasn't a spring I was looking forward to.

I remembered going up onto the Downs with Ralph for our first date. I remembered sitting beside him on the grass, and how his hand had felt when it first touched mine. I felt a tightening in my throat; I felt as if I couldn't breathe and then I started to cry, great gulping noisy sobs that filled the flat; it felt as though every part of my body was crying, as if my eyes alone couldn't hold all the tears that were threatening to choke me. I cried for me, for Mary, for Ralph, for what could have been and never would be. I didn't know he was there until he spoke.

‘Don't, Dottie,' he said. ‘Please don't.'

He had come into the room behind me and he was standing there now, just a few feet away from me. I thought of all the things we should have said and done together, the life we should have had, everything that I had lost, that had been taken from me.

His voice seemed to trigger something in me and I started screaming at him. ‘How could you do that, Ralph? How could you?' and I found myself hitting out at him. He didn't even try to defend himself; he just stood there looking helplessly at me.

‘Haven't you got
anything
to say to me?' I screamed.

‘I'm sorry,' he mumbled, ‘I'm so sorry.' He took a step towards me, held out his arms, tried to hold me, but I wouldn't let him. I pushed him away as hard as I could. For a few moments we stood staring at one another, me panting and sobbing, him pale and subdued. I tried to contain my anger. I swallowed it down. I wiped my nose with the back of my hand.

‘Sorry isn't good enough, Ralph,' I said. ‘You've ruined everything. You slept with my best friend, for God's sake. Do you really think I am going to settle for sorry?'

Ralph sat down on the newly made bed. He ran his hands through his hair till it stood up at odd angles. ‘I wish there was something I could say that would make you understand,' he said, ‘but there isn't, because I don't understand it myself. I don't understand how I could have done that to you, or to us.'

I sat down beside him. I held my hands between my knees. ‘You have to try, Ralph. I know there is nothing any of us can do to change things, but I need some answers, I want to know what happened.'

Ralph squeezed his eyes shut as if he was trying to remember that night. ‘Elton was flirting all night with Gemma,' he said. ‘Mary was drinking everything she could lay her hands on. I was drinking as well, probably more than I would have done if you had been there. Towards the end of the evening I noticed that Mary was missing. I assumed she had gone home, but I thought I had better make sure, so I went looking for her. I eventually found her in a dressing room at the back of the stage. The bass player from Elton's band was all over her so I told him to leave her alone, that she was drunk. We had a few words and then he went off. Then…'

‘Tell me.'

‘Well, Mary was laying back on this pile of old curtains, and she smiled up at me and said something about how she didn't think I had it in me to be such a man. I said I would walk her home, but she asked if I'd stay with her for a few minutes, and I said I would. So I sat down next to her and we talked, stupid talk. We were both so drunk. And next thing…' he looked away from me, towards the wall.

‘What?'

‘Next thing we were kissing and… It happened so fast. I don't know how it happened. And afterwards, as soon as we'd done it we were both… well… I couldn't believe what I had done; neither could Mary. We both sobered up pretty quickly and then I took her home.'

I shook my head and tried to take in everything he'd said. I had hoped for something else. Something that would have made it easier to forgive him.

‘So that's all it was?'

‘That's all it was. It was quick and it was pointless and afterwards I thought if I didn't think about it, it would just go away, that you would never know, that it wouldn't affect you or hurt you.'

The truth wasn't dramatic or exciting. Ralph and Mary hadn't been covering up a secret passion, or anything like that. The truth was mundane and dull and sad. All that had happened was that they had both got drunk. That didn't excuse what they'd done, but they hadn't done it to hurt me.

I wasn't angry any more, just terribly sad.

I reached my hand across the bedcover and put it on Ralph's. ‘I don't know what to do and I don't know how I'm supposed to feel.'

‘I love you,' he said. ‘I never stopped loving you.'

I took his face in my hands and kissed him. He looked surprised but then he started kissing me back, so gently, so sweetly and lovingly that I felt the kiss all the way from my lips down to my toes. And I had a feeling in my stomach, something I'd never ever felt before, but it was irresistible, it was urgent, like being dreadfully thirsty and seeing a glass of water in front of you, like kissing the boy I loved, and knowing I was a heartbeat away from having all of him.

Beside me the curtains drifted in the breeze. I felt Ralph pulling away from me.

‘Where's Mary and the baby?'

I was confused; what was he talking about? Why was he talking at all?

He put both hands on my shoulders. ‘Dottie, where's Mary and Peggy?'

Of course, he didn't know where they were. Ralph was looking at me, waiting for an answer. ‘Dottie?'

What had I been thinking? Had I really been about to make love to my best friend's husband? I pulled myself together. I pictured Mary sitting on the couch, so thin, so pale. ‘Mary's mum has taken her home, she's ill.'

He shook his head and rubbed at his forehead with the back of his hand. He stood up. ‘I have to go.' He leant down and kissed my cheek.

As he got to the bedroom door he turned around.

‘None of this is your fault, Dottie.'

‘Just go,' I said. ‘Just go.'

W
hen I got back
, Mum was in the kitchen cleaning the oven. When she saw me she straightened up and rubbed the small of her back. I looked down at my feet. I thought she might be able to tell what I'd just done by looking at me. ‘Have you been round Mary's all this time?'

I didn't answer her directly. 

‘Mrs Pickles has taken Mary and Peggy round to her house. They're going to stay there for a few days until Mary feels a bit better,' I said.

‘So how is she?' 

‘I don't know.'

‘What do you mean?'

‘I didn't go back to their house with her.'

‘So what did you do then?'

‘Well, I had to wait for Ralph, to let him know where they were.'

‘So Ralph's gone round there, has he?'

I was so relieved that that she hadn't suspected anything that I let my frustration with Mary spill out.

‘You don't know what it's like round there!' I said. ‘Mary's neglecting that baby. She spends all her time on the couch or in bed and she doesn't
do
anything, Mum! Honestly, the flat is disgusting. There were dirty nappies and knickers and stuff all over the bedroom. I cleaned it up.'

‘Oh,' said Mum, sounding not the least impressed. ‘Doesn't it worry you that Mary is so tired all the time? Don't you think that something might be wrong?'

I shrugged my shoulders and didn't answer.

‘Or does it suit you that Mary's not well?'

I could feel my face going red.

‘What do you mean?'

‘I mean that Mary not coping gives you a reason to be angry with her. A reason, even, to hate her.'

‘I don't
hate
her! I just...' I ran out of words. I stared at the ground. All the anger and frustration drained out of me. ‘How can I hate Mary?' I pleaded. ‘She's my best friend!'

‘I know,' said Mum. ‘That's why you feel so passionately about her. That's why all this is affecting you so much.'

‘But they don't love each other.'

‘Are you sure about that, Dottie? Because love comes in all different forms. Is Ralph supporting Mary? Is he helping with the baby?'

I thought about how patient he was with Mary, I had never heard him say a bad word against her, and he was very sweet with Peggy.

‘Yes, yes, he's very good.'

‘Mary and Ralph are married, Dottie, and whether or not they love each other is no business of yours. I know it's hard, but it's true.'

‘It
is
my business!' I shot back. ‘I'm the one who has to sit there and listen to Mary going on and on about how miserable she is and how useless she is and how unhappy she is...'

‘Mary is your dear friend and you are letting her down.'

‘I'm helping her.'

‘No, you're not, my love. You're judging her and you're blaming her and it's not doing Mary any good, and it's certainly not helping you. It's got to stop.'

This was hard to hear from my mum, but I couldn't ignore what she was saying. She was the wisest person I knew and I had always respected her judgement.

‘What if Mary isn't just wallowing in self-pity? What if she is ill?' Mum asked.

I didn't know what to say. I went slowly upstairs, my legs suddenly felt like lead. I sat down on the bed. Everything felt wrong and I couldn't get Mum's words out of my head. I knew, deep down, that she was right. I trusted my mum. She'd always given me really good advice and now I had disappointed her. I lay down on the bed with my arms behind my head and stared at the damp patch on the ceiling. I wanted to think about Ralph, about what had just happened. I closed my eyes and tried to bring back all the feelings. The way that kiss had made me feel, the way he smelt, how he made me feel beautiful and precious, but I couldn't. All I could think of was how I had betrayed Mary. It wasn't just what I had done, it was what I had wanted to do, before Ralph pulled away. When I closed my eyes again I saw Mary leaning over the basket, talking to Peggy.

A
fter work
the next day I went back round to Mary and Ralph's flat to finish tidying up. The bed was still dishevelled from where we had sat and kissed. I started to remake it. I smoothed out the sheets and tucked in the blankets, that's when I noticed the book, peeking out from under the bed. I picked it up and slowly turned the pages. Peggy's eyes looked back at me, the lashes so intricately drawn they looked real. Every drawing was perfect. Peggy's eyes, her nose, her mouth. A drawing of her chubby little hand with tiny creases of fat circling her wrist and then pictures of Ralph. Ralph holding Peggy on his lap, laughing down at her. Ralph asleep with the baby on his chest. Ralph posing, looking slightly embarrassed, a half smile on his face. Mary had been drawing her family and part of her family was Ralph.

I thought back to last night, I didn't want to but I had to. Ralph had pulled away from me, he had, he had pulled away from me. He hadn't wanted to make love to me. I felt sick and embarrassed and ashamed. I closed the book, put it back under the bed. Mum's words came back to me. ‘There are different kinds of love, Dottie.'

When I got home, Mum was sitting at the kitchen table. I didn't want to talk to her. I didn't want to talk to anyone, but she said, ‘Sit down a minute, love.'

‘Can we talk later?' I said, hanging my coat up behind the door.

‘Sit down Dottie, I'll make us a cup of tea.'

I sat down and waited.

It was strangely quiet in the kitchen, neither of us saying a word. There was just the hiss of the boiling kettle, the sound of the water being poured into the cups, the rattle of the spoon against the china as Mum stirred in the sugar. I waited.

Mum put two teas on the table, then she reached across and held my hand.

‘Mary is in the hospital,' she said.

I was finding it hard to concentrate on what she was saying. I could see her lips moving but I just couldn't take anything in, it was as if my hearing had gone. All I could think of was the drawings and Ralph pulling away from me. I wished Mum would just shut up.

I shook my head trying to clear it. ‘Mary's where?'

‘She's been taken to the hospital in an ambulance. Warren came round to let you know.'

‘That's good, isn't it? They'll keep an eye on her in there. She can have a proper rest. She won't have to lift a finger there.'

Mum sighed. ‘She hasn't gone to hospital for a rest, Dottie.'

‘What then?'

‘She had a nose bleed. She lost a lot of blood. Mrs Pickles tried to persuade her to go to hospital straight away, but she wouldn't, not until Ralph got home from work.'

I felt confused. I could hear the words Mum was saying, but they didn't seem to make any sense. I tried to ignore what she'd said about Mary wanting to wait for Ralph.

‘But a nose bleed isn't serious,' I said. ‘Everybody has nose bleeds. Clark used to have them all the time.'

Mum shook her head. ‘Sometimes nose bleeds are a symptom of something else.'

‘Like what?'

I glared at Mum. I felt horribly angry, not with her in particular but with everyone, with the world.

‘The doctors want to do some tests,' Mum said. ‘It might be nothing but…'

‘She can't be ill. She's just tired, that's all,' I said. ‘You told me, her mum told me, everyone said that people are tired when they have babies.'

Mum smiled at me. ‘That's probably all it is. It's probably nothing to worry about. At least she's not on her own, Ralph is there with her.'

I groaned.

‘Dottie?'

Mum stood up and came round the table. I couldn't look at her. I had to squeeze my eyes shut and bite my fist to stop myself from sobbing or screaming or something.

‘Oh Dottie, love!' Mum gently moved the hair out of my face, and stroked my cheek with the back of her hand. ‘Try not to worry. I'm sure Mary will be fine.'

‘Where's Peggy?' I whispered. ‘If Ralph and Mary are both at the hospital…'

‘I expect she's with her grandma.'

Now I started to cry, big, wet, snotty sobs.

Mum wrapped her arms around me, cradling me to her as if I were a small child. She let me cry for a while, and when the crying had eased a little she said: ‘Things will sort themselves out, you know. It might all seem wrong at the moment but…'

I shook my head. ‘No,' I said. ‘Nothing will ever be right again.'

Mum sighed. ‘We've all been expecting too much from you,' she said. ‘You've been through such a lot, haven't you? You were badly hurt but you couldn't do anything about it, because the people who hurt you were the two people you loved.'

I hung onto Mum and she rocked me back and forth against her.

‘So you had all this anger and all this pain but no one to be angry with, because it wasn't really anyone's fault. And we all expected you to get on with it, to support Mary all the same. You had to watch her marry Ralph, you helped them get a flat, you've looked after that baby. What you have done has been brave and loyal and strong.'

Mum kissed my head and held me so tight, and I wanted to tell her everything, but I couldn't, I just couldn't.

I swallowed my guilt and wiped my eyes.

‘Mary will be all right, won't she?'

‘Fingers crossed,' she said.

‘Mum?'

‘I'm sure she'll be fine.'