Cecelia Ahern - Mrs Whippy

I’d gone home and gone through my wardrobe. I discarded my “best” outfit, which only a few days ago would have been my immediate choice. I decided that I needed to go shopping. I decided to spend some of my first pay cheque on a new outfit. For once I didn’t have Charlie breathing down my neck, trying to make me feel guilty for buying something for myself. I couldn’t remember the last time I went shopping just for me. Usually everything I bought was for the boys.

On Thursday afternoon, after my third day at work, Brian returned from school with a scowl on his face. This wasn’t unusual, but this time his anger was directed entirely at me.

“Why didn’t you tell me you were working at the supermarket?”

I lifted my weary legs up from the sofa where I was lying and sat up.

“What?” was all I could think of to say. I had told him about the job at least five times over the past month. But he never seemed to be interested.

“You heard me,” he said rudely.

“Excuse me, don’t you speak to me like that,” I said calmly. “I can remember at least five occasions when I told you about the job. But as usual you ignored me. What’s the problem?”

He shifted his body weight from foot to foot. He looked at me with the same sort of expression as his father.

“You’re obviously angry about something, Brian. You may as well tell me what because I’m not going to guess,” I said. There was a difference within me today. I didn’t care what his problem was. I didn’t care if I had done something to annoy him. This time I knew it wasn’t my fault. It had never been my fault. That’s what Mr Whippy had taught me.

“I’ve been hearing about you at school,” he said a little less confidently. “You’re working with some of my mates.”

“Really?” I said, sipping my tea. I felt myself become even calmer. I simply didn’t care. He couldn’t control my emotions any more.

“And Jenny, you’ve been talking to Jenny. I don’t want you talking to her.” He tried to sound aggressive. He tried to sound mature and threatening. Just like his great old dad.

I laughed into the cup and spluttered my tea down my top.

His face reddened at being mocked.

“Oh, Jenny .” I smiled. “I see. Jenny is the girlfriend you and Charlie wouldn’t tell me about.”

He looked surprised.

“I like Jenny,” I said, still smiling. “I was working with her this afternoon. Lovely girl. You know she works three times a week for her own money? She’s a great girl.” I sipped the rest of my tea and continued to watch the TV.

“Don’t talk to her, Mam. I don’t want you talking to her,” he said through gritted teeth.

Vincent had appeared in the hall and was hiding behind the door, listening.

“Why? Are you ashamed of me?” I asked, looking him in the eye.

He looked away. “Why are you working there?” he asked angrily.

“I’m working there because your darling father, who you adore so much, has cut my money. One of us has to feed and clothe you. If he won’t do it, I will.”

“He does look after us,” Brian said in defence of his dad.

“How? He takes you to McDonald’s on Saturdays? What else does he do?”

Brian stared at me blankly and then spoke. “You won’t let us see him any other days.”

My mouth dropped open. “Excuse me?” I sat up even more. “That’s what he’s told you, is it? Well, Brian, listen to this carefully. Your father hasn’t even asked me once if he can take you another day.” I wanted to say that it was my idea for him to take them in the first place. But I didn’t want to turn Brian against his father completely. That wasn’t my style.

Brian’s forehead wrinkled. “You’re lying.”

I shrugged and looked away, not bothered with the conversation any more. Before Brian left the room, I spoke again, still not moving my head from the television. “I’m a grown woman, Brian. How dare you tell me who I can and cannot talk to! How dare you tell me where to work! I’m your mother and you disgust me with the way you talk to me.” I spoke calmly and politely, but with enough strength for it to really hit home.

Vincent stepped out from behind the door. He gave me what I thought was a small smile before disappearing again down the hall. The very thought of a smile sent tears flying to my eyes.

After the morning break on Saturday, I was put working on Jenny’s till. She eyed me warily for the first thirty minutes. Then she finally spoke.

“So you’re Brian’s ma?”

I didn’t answer. I looked away and waited for the customers to approach us. But the supermarket wasn’t busy.

“Hey,” she said. “Hello?”

I looked the other way.

“Are you ignoring me?” she asked in surprise.

I turned to her. “My son has ever-so-politely requested that I don’t talk to you.”

The sides of Jenny’s mouth lifted into a smile. Dimples formed on her cheeks. She looked much softer.

“Ah, don’t mind him. He’s an old grump.” She smiled.

My heart lifted.

“What do you see in him?” I asked in confusion. She laughed and shrugged. But I could see her thinking about it.

After a moment she spoke. “He’s got nice eyes. Blue sparkly eyes.”

“Oh,” I said in surprise.

“They’re like yours, actually.” She studied my face closely. “You’ve got nice eyes.”

“Usually people say the boys look like Charlie,” I said, feeling flattered.

“Yuck.” Jenny pulled a face. “No way!”

I laughed. “Not a fan of Charlie’s, I see?”

Jenny shook her head. “I should ask you what you saw in him .”

I laughed again. “It looks like you and I are going to get along just fine,” I said. “But don’t tell Brian,” I added.

“Oh, forget him.” She rolled her eyes. “He’ll grow up.”

Ten

On Sunday morning I came downstairs to find Charlie rooting around in the kitchen presses again.

“Charlie!” I said angrily.

“You’ve stopped buying brown sauce.” He looked around the press door with a scowl.

I stared at him with anger.

“Why?” he said more forcefully.

“Charlie, you were the only person who liked brown sauce. And you don’t live here any more, remember ?” I folded my arms across my chest.

The boys looked at me in surprise. The child-like tone that was usually in my voice when I spoke to Charlie was gone.

Charlie slowly closed the press door. He stood across from me with his legs spread and his shoulders back, trying to intimidate me.

“How did you get in here?” I asked, knowing that Brian had left his keys behind when he went out with his father.

“They’re called keys , Emelda.” Charlie spoke as though I were stupid. He dangled his keys in front of my face.

I snatched them out of his hand, causing the three boys and Charlie to jump. I put the keys in my pocket.

“Now that you’re living with the woman you left me for, you won’t be needing these any more, will you?”

“What?” Charlie shouted.

“There’s no need to raise your voice, Charlie. It’s very simple. You have chosen not to be with me any more. You told me you didn’t love me any more and that our marriage was over, yes?”

Brian’s mouth dropped open. This seemed to be news to him.

Charlie looked at the kids and back at me. “Not in front of the boys, Emelda.”

“Why? Afraid you’ll look like less of a man, Charlie?” Normally I would agree with him about not discussing this in front of the children. But the circumstances were different this time. His children were imitating his actions because they were being misled. He was not the person they thought he was.