Joanne Sefton - The Mother’s Lies

‘This is us, then,’ Mr Robertson called from the front seat, bringing Katy back to June; back to honeysuckle and the present. Miss Silver, sitting next to her, gave her hand a quick squeeze, as if she were embarrassed but felt she had to do it anyway. There was a copper waiting at the bottom of the slip road. Mr Robertson pulled in, past the signs advertising next week’s grand opening of the service station. Moreton Chase it was going to be called – someone had told Katy that last time. The Austin slowed as if to stop, but the young constable waved them on, scurrying to replace the painted wooden traffic cones that were being used to block the slip lane.

As the car swung round a wide bend into the car park, Katy felt her heart beat faster. She didn’t want to remember what happened a year ago. She didn’t want to feel Mary’s weight in her arms. She didn’t want to see Mary’s face. Instead, she forced her mind’s eye downwards, remembering only her own feet in their scuffed school shoes, tramping through the grass and clover on a sunny June morning.

Helen

Her phone rang just as the children were finishing their food. Helen answered, then tried to balance the slim handset between her ear and shoulder so she could bend to wipe Alys’s mouth, but the child was too quick for her, wriggling off her stool and smearing jammy stickiness down Helen’s clean tights. She let her go, too bone-tired to do anything more.

‘Sorry, I didn’t catch …’ she started to say.

‘It’s Dad, Helen.’

‘Oh, hi, just a sec …’ She paused to push down the door handle for Alys, allowing her to make her escape. Even through the confusion, Helen caught a weight to her father’s tone, and registered that it was odd for him to call when he must have known it was the children’s teatime.

‘The kids on good form then?’ he asked.

‘Yeah, they’re both fine.’

‘They’re not too …’

She heard Neil try to shape the question on his tongue and pictured his fingers worrying at the grey hair that was still thick behind his ears. Eventually he gave up, failure escaping his lips as a gentle sigh down the line.

‘They’re doing fine,’ she repeated, making an effort to say it more gently. ‘But what about you – is everything okay?’

Another breath down the line – this one heavy, steadying.

‘Your mum was up at the hospital today, love.’

Helen racked her memory, uncertain whether this was an appointment that she was meant to have known about. Had Barbara’s eye problem flared up again? Was there anything else that she’d mentioned recently?

‘Right …’ she stalled.

‘It’s not good, Helen.’

His voice cracked on the ‘H’ of her name and she felt her heart jump, then race.

Her father continued, ‘She had a mammogram … They’ve found a lump.’

*

It was twenty minutes after the call ended when Alys and Barney came tumbling down the stairs. Helen was still sitting at the kitchen table, surrounded by their leftovers. The phone was by her side and she was dabbing her eyes with her knuckles. Barney wobbled on his tiptoes to get the box of tissues from the windowsill before placing it on the table by her elbow. She went to take one but the box was empty – he must not have realised – so she kissed his gorgeous chestnut hair and tried to keep her voice steady to ask him to fetch some toilet paper instead. She hated that they were seeing her like this.

‘Mummy? Are you sad because of Daddy?’ Barney asked, frowning as he handed over a streamer of toilet roll.

‘No, my love, don’t worry.’ Helen shook her head. ‘That was Granddad. He was phoning to tell us that your Nana Barbara is ill. She might be very ill, and that’s why I’m sad.’

‘I’m sad too,’ said Barney, looking relieved.

‘We’ll have to go and visit them,’ Helen said, attempting a smile. ‘You’ll both like that, won’t you? A trip up north? You can see Granddad Adam and Nana Chris while we’re there.’

Alys spoke at last. ‘Daddy come too?’

‘I don’t think so, lovely.’ Helen bent to kiss her, which allowed her to hide the fresh tears from Barney. She could smell the jam around her daughter’s mouth. ‘But we’ll tell him we’re going. And you’ll be able to talk to him on the phone.’

‘But we’re staying with Daddy on Friday,’ said Barney, in his matter-of-fact way. His small brow wrinkled and Helen caught her own father’s frown in his expression. ‘We’re all going to Gambado.’

‘You are, are you now?’

Darren had only moved out six weeks ago and already it seemed he was resorting to indoor-adventure-play bribery. That’d be hurting him in the wallet. And did Barney’s ‘we’re all’ include Lauren ? She felt a tension flicker start up by her left eye.

‘Gam-ba-do, Gam-ba-do!’ Alys was echoing her brother, her voice full of wonder. Gambado might enchant them now, but it surely wouldn’t be long before the stakes were upped to Euro Disney, then Florida. Anger at bloody Darren flared inside her.

‘Well, now that Nana’s ill, I’m afraid Gambado might have to wait for another day. Barney, will you take Alys upstairs please. I have to phone your father.’ She realised she’d never called him ‘your father’ before he left; how quickly they were turning into one of those ex-couples.

Neil

He held the phone in his hand for a good minute or so after Helen had hung up. Even after all these years, he still ached for his daughter like a missing limb. He just needed a moment.

Once he’d gathered himself, he’d go back through to the living room, where Barbara would be doing the crossword or sudoku; denial tap-tapping from her pen as she drummed it on the newspaper, fingertips dancing under the shadow of her neat, treacherous breasts.

He put the handset back into its cradle and opened the living room door.

‘Shall I put a brew on, love?’

She nodded towards the cup at her elbow, her hands not even slowing.

‘No, thanks. I didn’t finish the other one, and it’s barely cold.’

‘Right.’ He paused in the doorway. ‘Do you mind if I sit with you?’

‘Why would I mind, you daft bugger?’

He took a few steps, crossing the floor towards her, then reached out a hand to take the paper from her.

‘What are you doing? I’m about to get one.’

‘Put it down, love, eh? Just for a minute.’

She sighed, but did as he asked, laying the paper and pen to one side and folding her arms. He sat down beside her and placed a hand on her knee, half expecting her to brush it away.

‘I told our Helen.’

‘But we agreed we weren’t going to worry her.’

Neil shook his head. ‘We were wrong, love. I know what we said, but—’

‘Well, if you’ve done it then you’ve done it.’ She cut him off briskly and went to pick up her pen again. Neil pushed her hand gently down.

‘Barbara …’ his voice was shuddering, ‘… oh God, Barbara. You know I love you so, so much.’

To his surprise, she turned in to him and opened her arms to hold him.

‘And I love you, Neil. Always.’

After their embrace, he slipped an arm around her shoulders and she leant in against him, although she’d picked up the paper again, making a show of concentrating on her little scribbled sums. Her shoulders felt narrow, almost bony, and he pictured the cancer already leaching her strength, growing with parasitical single-mindedness.

‘I love you,’ he said again, almost apologetically.

‘So you said. And you’ll have plenty of time to say it again, whatever happens.’

‘I know.’

He counted to ten in his head.

‘Barbara?’