Cuckoo (18 page)
‘When we can’t have something, it’s what we want most,’ Rose agreed.
‘Well, you’d know that, more than anyone.’ Polly looked over at Rose.
Rose stopped what she was doing and looked down at her hands, picking a little dirt out from beneath her fingernails. For a moment, she lost all sense of where she was. The laughter of Gareth and the children was lost to her ears.
‘Sorry,’ Polly said.
‘We don’t talk about that, Poll, remember? Not ever. Pain of death.’ Rose held her scarred index finger out in front of her as if it were a magic wand.
‘OK, then. Sorry.’ Polly looked away.
Rose forced herself back into the now, and smiled a little too brightly, her eyes dazzled from the sky.
‘Do you know what, Polly? I can’t think of a thing I want that I haven’t got!’
The minute she said it, she wished that she hadn’t. How horribly smug it must have sounded. Rose wanted to apologise to Polly, to tell her that she had only said it to convince
herself
, and that in no way was she trying to rub her unhappy friend’s nose in her own comfortable situation. But if she said that, she would show her own vulnerability, and she wasn’t going to start down that road.
herself
, and that in no way was she trying to rub her unhappy friend’s nose in her own comfortable situation. But if she said that, she would show her own vulnerability, and she wasn’t going to start down that road.
‘Well, that’s marvellous. I’m really glad for you.’ Polly frowned and drew her arms closer around Flossie. Rose couldn’t help thinking that her baby couldn’t be too comfortable there on that rack of bones.
‘At the funeral,’ Polly said, after a while, ‘I wanted to rip off the coffin lid and jump in and screw him there, in front of everyone. I wanted him to be cremated. I wanted his body fully over and done with. I thought that would stop the feeling. But the idea of his body still there somewhere, mouldering away under the ground: it’s too horrible.’
‘So why didn’t you cremate him?’ Rose asked, shuddering too at the thought.
‘His mother. She said it was illegal in Greece. I didn’t know any better. I believed her. But she was lying. The state permits it but the Orthodox Church doesn’t. Despite the name old Yaya Maria had lumbered him with, Christos was not a believer.’
‘He was anything but Orthodox,’ Rose said.
‘And I should have gone with what he would have wanted. But there you go. I was weak.’
‘Don’t say that. His mother sounds like a force of nature.’
‘Tell me about it. Anyway, so I let us all down. And there I was, the days after the burial, going to the graveyard, touching the fresh earth that contained him, burying my face in it. And just itching, like an animal on heat. I surprised myself.’
‘How do you mean?’
‘I mean I hadn’t really wanted him all that much when he was alive. Not for a couple of years, really.’
She lifted Flossie off her front, sat up and rummaged in her bag for her pills. Rose, taking Flossie from her, noticed that Polly’s hands were shaking again. She watched her as she necked four pills from three different bottles, washing them down with her Cava.
‘That seems like a lot of pharmaceuticals, Poll,’ Rose said gently.
‘It’s just what the doctor prescribed.’ Polly rattled the bottles. ‘And who am I to disagree?’
‘So did you get over it?’ Rose asked.
‘What?’
‘The itching feeling?’
‘No. It got so bad I had to ask Taverna George for some help.’
‘No!’ Rose said.
‘He didn’t seem to mind,’ Polly laughed. ‘It did us both a lot of good. It wasn’t as if it was the first time, me and George, anyway.’
‘Jesus.’
‘Yes, Jesus.’ She put on the air and accent of a scandalised Greek grandmother and waved her arms in the air. ‘
Chreeestos
!’ She laughed and lay back down again. ‘Oh Rose, you can be such a prude. Remember, neither of us had been complete angels when he was alive.’
Chreeestos
!’ She laughed and lay back down again. ‘Oh Rose, you can be such a prude. Remember, neither of us had been complete angels when he was alive.’
Rose knew this was true of Christos, at least. She had never been entirely honest with Polly about the extent of the feelings she had for him. This had partly been down to her own pride, partly because she knew that telling Polly wouldn’t help anyone deal with anything any better. But there was that time, on Karpathos during that visit two years ago, when they were supposed to all be going to see a one-off showing of
La Dolce Vita
at the open-air cinema in Pigadia, but Polly had been feeling ill. She stayed in and Rose and Christos had gone without her. The night had ended with a moonlit motorbike ride to a beach, where a reenactment of the Trevi Fountain scene had turned into a midnight skinny dip. Rose had tried to draw a halt to things before the sense of déjà vu became too precise, but she had only been partly successful.
La Dolce Vita
at the open-air cinema in Pigadia, but Polly had been feeling ill. She stayed in and Rose and Christos had gone without her. The night had ended with a moonlit motorbike ride to a beach, where a reenactment of the Trevi Fountain scene had turned into a midnight skinny dip. Rose had tried to draw a halt to things before the sense of déjà vu became too precise, but she had only been partly successful.
‘It was an exorcism of sorts,’ Polly went on. ‘Besides,’ she shrugged, ‘George is, as you yourself noted, impossibly good-looking.’
For a number of reasons, Rose was quite relieved when Anna bounded up towards them.
‘Come on, you two! Dad says you’ve got to join in. He says it’s not fair three kids against only one adult.’
Rose got up. ‘I’ll come, but someone has to stay and look after Flossie. Poll, are you OK with that?’
‘Oh no,’ Polly said. ‘Does that mean I’ve got to just lie here in the sunshine while you run around up and down hills? I’ll do my best to cope.’
Rose joined Anna and ran off, stopping to pick up one of the extra swords Gareth had made.
There was much whooping, charging and over-dramatic rolling down banks. What was surprising was that it took over an hour for someone to hurt themselves. Nico tripped while running away from Anna, and got a nasty gash on his knee. It wasn’t serious, but there was enough blood to get him bawling. The other children squatted in front of him, grimacing, at once repelled and fascinated by the gore. Gareth ran back to the car for the first-aid kit.
After she had cuddled the tears out of Nico, Rose walked him back to the picnic blankets to find a medicinal bar of chocolate she had stashed at the bottom of one of the baskets. She stopped short in her tracks as she saw Polly and Flossie. Flossie was wobbling, but, for the first time in her life, she was standing unaided. She had just let go of Polly with one hand. In her other, she was rattling a bottle of pills.
‘Look!’ Polly said. ‘No hands!’
Flossie, who hadn’t even begun to crawl yet, stood for a moment, held up at the top of the arc of a wobble, then she tumbled to the ground, rolling down a tiny slope that was right behind her.
‘Oops a daisy!’ Polly sang.
Rose rushed to scoop up Flossie, who screamed and stuck out her lower lip.
‘What’s this?’ she said, picking a pill off the ground.
‘Oh, thanks,’ Polly said, taking it from her. ‘The lid came off when she was rattling them. I thought we’d got them all.’
‘I hurt my knee, Mum, look,’ Nico said, tugging at her arm.
‘Ow,’ Polly said. ‘Does it hurt?’
‘Course it does,’ he said.
‘Never mind, here comes Doctor Gareth,’ Polly told him, shielding her eyes from the sun and watching Gareth hurdling back across the stone walls, bearing the big blue plastic first-aid kit. ‘Big, strong and capable.’
‘Are you sure you got all the pills, Poll?’ Rose said. ‘Floss puts everything in her mouth at the moment.’
‘Yeah, yeah. Chill, Rose. Look, she’s smiling now.’
Flossie, who had seen her daddy charging towards her, had lit up like a little candle and was leaning away from Rose, holding her hands up towards him.
‘Perhaps you can show your dad how you can stand up, Floss,’ Polly said, taking her by her waist and putting her on her feet.
‘I’m not sure it’s so good for her legs, Polly,’ Rose said.
Flossie wobbled, tried to take a step, then fell down on her bottom, making everyone but Nico laugh and applaud.
‘Hey, what about my knee?’ he complained, looking up at them all, one by one.
Sixteen
They got back after dusk in the end, with the tingle of a day in the sun on their faces. Rose, who had probably sunk a little more Cava than she should have, laid out the remains of the picnic on the coffee-table and the children had the rare treat of a TV dinner while the adults retired to the kitchen to drink another bottle.
They lit the candles and settled back in the golden glow.
‘I’m so glad I’m here,’ Polly said, hugging herself. ‘I can’t imagine being anywhere else than here with you, my best friends in the whole world.’
Gareth gazed into his glass, twirling it around in his big hands and smiling. Then he looked up and raised a toast.
‘To having a blast!’
They all clinked glasses.
By about ten o’clock the children had all fallen asleep on the sofas, faces smeared with the Eton Mess Rose had made from the leftovers of the picnic meringue, cream and strawberries. Rose, Polly and Gareth lifted them up to their rooms.
‘They can clean their teeth in the morning, Rose,’ Gareth said.
‘Yeah, yeah,’ she said.
Back downstairs, Polly hugged both Rose and Gareth at once.
‘Well, goodnight, guys. And, once again, thanks.’
‘Look, stop all that thanks now, OK?’ Rose said. ‘Let’s all be equal in this from now on.’
‘I agree,’ Gareth said.
They saw Polly to the door, and stood on the threshold watching her weave her way up the steps towards the Annexe.
‘So long as she stays up there,’ Gareth whispered to Rose.
She smiled and leaned into him.
‘I’ve just got to feed Flossie, then I’ll be up,’ she said.
‘I’ll be waiting,’ he said.
But by the time she got to the bedroom, Gareth was lying on his back, his arms outstretched, snoring.
Poor man, Rose thought. He’s not used to running around after boys all day.
Rose woke at four in the morning. Flossie hadn’t cried for her two o’clock feed, which was something of a first. Initially, this didn’t worry Rose. Anna had kept her up all hours until she was two years old; perhaps Flossie was going to treat them all a little more kindly.
The clear night had made the house very chilly. Rose could see her breath as she tiptoed across the landing to Flossie’s bedroom; the grass outside glowed with a peppering of frost.
It was when Rose leaned over to look into Flossie’s cot that the cold jolted out from the air and plunged deep into her belly. Her baby was still, breathing in shallow rasps, with a sheen of sweat over her face. Rose grabbed her. Flossie’s skin was burning, and when Rose picked her up, her body flopped in her arms. She put her back down and pulled open her Babygro. A rash purpled over her chest.
Clutching the baby to her, Rose charged back to her bedroom, yelling for Gareth.
‘What’s the number?’ Rose pressed, as Gareth searched their address book for the village GP’s out-of-hours contact.
‘I think we should call an ambulance,’ he said.
‘Kate will get here quicker. And she knows us.’
Kate was the village GP, and the closest to a female friend Rose had managed to find since they had moved.
Rose dialled and waited for an answer.
Come on
,
come on
, she thought.
Come on
,
come on
, she thought.
‘Hello?’ Kate sounded sleepy.
Rose told her what had happened.
‘You stay there. I’ll be with you in a tick,’ Kate said.
True to her word, she was at their door in five minutes, a duffel coat thrown over her pyjamas, her feet in Birkenstocks. She took one look at Flossie and ordered Gareth to call for an ambulance.
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