Mother's Story (26 page)

Polly reached across the tabletop then and held my hands. I thought of all the times she had done this throughout our lives. We used to wear matching clothes and skip hand in hand when we were little and in my teens we'd hold hands if it thundered; she knew I hated the loud bangs.

‘You are doing great,' she said, before trying to change the tone, whether trying to convince herself or me, I'm not sure. ‘We had a shit journey here, you'd have laughed. We got stuck behind a bus that was behind a caravan that was behind a tandem bike – it was like a comedy sketch. I shouted out the window and beeped the horn, just to add to the drama.'

I looked at her trying to be funny, trying to be normal, but I knew her better than that. It struck me as very sad; that she didn't know how to ‘be' with me after all we have shared. This slightly awkward imitation of Polly was what I was left with.

‘I miss him.' I said it out loud. ‘I miss him so much it hurts.'

I don't usually mention him, in fact I never do, wanting to spare people the trauma of having to respond, but it was automatic, the words just spurted out of me.

Polly drew breath and her smile slipped. Her eyes drooped and her shoulders sagged. ‘I know. We do too. And you. We miss you too, so very much.'

She dropped her head until it lay on our joined hands and she cried, deep, gulping sobs that made her whole body shake. Paz patted her back. And I was glad. Because finally her mask had gone and this was the real Polly, telling me something true. And I loved her for it.

The taxi engine ticked loudly, piercing the early morning hush on Merton Avenue. Jessica saw the twitch of a net curtain in Mrs Pleasant's bedroom. Let her look, there wasn't much to see. And anyway, she knew what was happening, after their conversation over the bins yesterday.

‘So you're going away without your husband?' Mrs Not-So had asked, aghast.

‘Yes.'

‘Without the little girl?'

‘Yes,' Jessica had sighed. Wanting to add, ‘
This is the twenty-first century; mothers don't need to be joined to their kids at the hip! And it's not like I'm leaving her in a cupboard, she's with her dad!'
Instead she'd nodded, sucking up the disapproval that came off their neighbour in waves. ‘Join the club,' Jessica murmured as she retreated back inside.

Matthew now stood inside the open front door with Lilly on his hip. ‘Kiss Mummy goodbye.' He leant forward so Jessica could easily reach.

As she kissed her little girl on the cheek, Lilly moaned and gripped Matthew's sleeve with both hands: being tilted unnerved her a little. ‘Bye-bye, Lilly.' She smiled at her daughter.

Matthew reached forward and pulled his wife to him with his free arm. Jessica felt his words graze her scalp. ‘Come back to me, Jessica.'

She gave a small laugh and hitched her bag over her shoulder. ‘I will. I'm only going for a week. It'll fly by.'

Matthew moved away and held her by the top of her arm so that he could look directly into her face. His words were deliberate, earnest. ‘No, Jessica. I mean, come back to me.'

She turned away from the glint of tears in his eyes and nodded as she made her way across the street to the waiting cab.

Later that day, the ancient Majorcan taxi juddered its way round the twists and turns of the narrowing coastal road, swerving around the bends as they meandered higher and higher. As the driver crunched through the whining gears, Polly mimed being sick into a bag. Jessica wanted to laugh but knew the cab driver was watching them in the rear-view mirror.

She strained to see the sea on the bends and every glimpse sent a bolt of joy through her. It didn't feel like running away exactly; more an attempt to preserve her fragile reserves of sanity, which were running dangerously low. Jessica loved it there: her happy, happy place, a place where she and Matthew had spent the best of times. Maybe at some unconscious level she figured that if she went to a place where she had known great happiness, some of it might creep back into her. Happiness by osmosis; it was worth a shot.

The fact that she had only been there before she'd become a mum also had an appeal; the place held no memories or images of Lilly. Jessica felt the familiar jolt of guilt shoot through her stomach. What kind of mother was she that she didn't long to be with her child constantly? She was a terrible mother, and an awful wife to Matthew. She bit her lip and looked out of the taxi window, hoping and praying that this holiday would be the tonic she needed. She decided to ignore the little voice in her head which told her it would take more than a holiday to fix what was broken inside her. Instead she made a vow that she would not think about Lilly at all and would simply focus on getting herself better. After all, she reasoned, in the long run that would help Matthew and Lilly most of all.

The temperature was noticeably warmer than at home; it felt like the summer and she welcomed it – no need for central heating or an extra jersey when you had the raw heat of the sun. Jessica could feel a bubble of excitement building in the base of her stomach as the taxi drove up to the villa, something she hadn't felt for quite a while. She breathed deeply and each breath of air in that foreign land seemed to clear her head.

The car stopped outside the wrought-iron gates of The Orangery, Matthew's parents' villa in Deià.

‘Oh my God!' Polly screamed and ran across the gravel driveway. ‘This place is amazing! Look at it!'

Jessica smiled as she fished behind the bush for the tin with the keys inside and pushed open the pale, solid-oak front door. Everything looked amazing. The gardener was evidently doing a great job. The grass had been neatly cut and the tubs were bursting with full-bloomed scarlet geraniums. The tightly packed stones of the semi circular driveway had been raked smooth, the random large rocks along the edges were freshly whitewashed and the dainty border of shrubs and flowers looked magnificent. It was beautiful. Alongside the villa ran the neat rows of orange trees, which Matthew had told her were beautiful whatever the time of year – whether laden with ripe oranges, peppered with delicate white blossom or simply a mass of shiny green leaves. Just inhaling their sweet, citrus scent made you feel better, he said, and he was right.

The Deanes had bought the house in the seventies when it was a mere ten years old, but its rough stone exterior and rustic grilled windows made you think it was much older. Anthony and Margaret had completely remodelled it in the nineties, ripping out the dated kitchen and bathrooms and introducing state-of-the art appliances and acres of white marble.

‘Look at this place! God, I love it here!' Polly ran from room to room, jumping on the beds, running her fingertips over the counter tops and bouncing on sofas. ‘Let's just move here and never, ever go home!'

Jessica smiled and walked over to the French doors, not wanting to admit how tempting that sounded. Turning the large key, she slid the wrought-iron bolts and pulled the doors wide. She walked out onto the vast circular terrace, which was dotted with a collection of wicker loungers, tables and chairs, each with a sumptuous caramel-coloured cushion and matching parasol. A small pool nestled in the shade of the corner nearest the house, in full view of the orange trees.

Jessica leant on the iron railings and drank in the view, which from that height was unparalleled. Pockets of blue ocean twinkled in the distance, surrounded by the majestic Sierra Tramuntana, the beautiful craggy limestone mountain range that stretched the length of the north-west coast of the island. Oak and olive trees grew in clusters, decorating the rocky slopes in variegated greens. The arrow-like crowns of spiky pines poked up through the thinning cloud. Letting her eyes sweep left to right, she felt her muscles unknot. It was a world away from the view outside the window of Merton Avenue. She wondered what Matthew was doing at that very moment and tried to quell the knife of envy that sliced her gut when she thought of him and Lilly enjoying quality time without her.
This was your choice, Jess. No one made you leave.

‘Penny for them?' Polly's voice came from behind her.

‘I was just thinking how beautiful this is,' Jessica lied.

‘It really is. Bit scary though, it's so frigging high!' Polly inhaled the heady scent of pine and bougainvillea. ‘It smells like air freshener!'

‘I think you'll find that air freshener smells like this.' Jessica smiled at her mate.

‘You are going to have to get lots of shots of me looking outdoorsy, Paz will love that.'

Jessica chuckled. She couldn't remember the last time Polly had cared so much what a man thought of her. She was glad she was happy. ‘You really like him, don't you?'

‘Well I should hope so, I'm going to marry him!' Polly screamed, then jumped up and down on the spot.

‘Really?' Jessica did her best to sound enthused when all she could think was,
Enjoy this, it's the best bit.

‘Yes! He asked me yesterday and I said yes! Oh Jess, I am so, so happy! I love him, I really do. And we aren't going to wait, we're going to do it quickly while all the planets are aligned.'

Jessica stared at her friend and was silent.

‘Well say something, Jess! I am getting married!'

‘It's great, Polly,' she offered flatly.

‘“Great”? Is that it?' Polly sighed.

Jessica could see she had taken the gloss off her friend's big announcement and it made her feel sad.

‘So…' Polly suddenly clapped her hands. ‘What shall we do first? Open a bottle to celebrate? Have a quick swim?' She pulled her sunglasses from her head and put them on.

‘Actually, Poll, would you mind if I had a sleep? I just want to zonk out and recharge my batteries.'

‘Oh! Sure.' Polly tried to hide her disappointment. ‘You are quite right. This week is all about getting you back in tip-top shape.' Polly peeled off her T-shirt and unhooked her bra, before stepping out of her jeans and leaving the lot in a heap on the terracotta floor. ‘You have a nap and I'll think about what we are going to have for supper! I'm going to lie here and tan my cherub for a bit.' She pointed at her bottom and jumped onto a sun-lounger.

Jessica wheeled her suitcase into a sparsely furnished bedroom, the smallest of the three, and parked it in the corner. This was the only room in which she and Matthew hadn't slept together and was precisely why she chose it. The one high window and whitewashed walls made her feel safe, protected, like no one could get to her and she could hide. Perfect. The multicoloured flat-woven rug cushioned her toes against the coolness of the tiled floor. Climbing between the starched white sheets on the single bed, she patted the white counterpane over her legs and laid her head on the bolster. She closed her eyes and instantly felt herself drifting off. She smiled, knowing she wouldn't be woken by Lilly. That felt like the biggest gift of all.

‘Well strike a light, it's Sleeping Bloody Beauty!' Polly removed her sunglasses and sat up on her sun-lounger to get a proper look at her friend. ‘Actually, better just make that Sleeping No Beauty – you look like shite.'

‘How long have I slept for?' Jessica felt fuzzy, her tongue thick in her mouth.

‘Three days.'

‘What?' Jessica shook her head.

‘Well, no, not three days, but it bloody well felt like it when I had no one to talk to.'

‘Sorry, Poll. I couldn't help it.'

‘Well it's now one in the afternoon and you went to sleep at three yesterday afternoon. That's got to be some sort of record. Usually we'd need to be mega hungover to achieve that kind of sleepage.'

Jessica yawned. ‘God, I know what I need to do—'

‘I know, I know, call your parents and check on Lilly. Go do it and then come out here for some sun!'

Jessica nodded. She had been about to say ‘jump in the pool'. She had forgotten, just for a moment, all about Lilly. Her guilt washed over her in a familiar wave that left her feeling cold.
What's wrong with me? What is wrong with me?
she repeated as she went off to use the phone in the kitchen.

‘Do I want to talk to her?' Jessica repeated her mum's question.
How can I speak to her? She can't talk!
‘Sure,' she replied, thinking this was what her mum wanted to hear.

‘Go ahead!' Coral's voice could be heard in the background. ‘You are on loudspeaker.'

Perfect.
Jessica swallowed, hesitating. ‘Hello there, Lilly. How are you? I hope you are having a nice time with Nanny and Grandad.' This was met by silence. Jessica felt her cheeks flush. Her words were stilted and she found the whole ordeal acutely embarrassing, but she knew she had to fill the void. ‘I am at The Orangery. It's lovely here and Polly is with me.' She closed her eyes, her heart beat too quickly, her head swam a little and she cringed. Now her mum would know that she didn't know how to talk to Lilly.

‘Ah, she's beaming here, Jess! She's very happy to hear your voice. Aren't you, darling?'

‘Good. Have you spoken to Matt?'

‘Yes! He's staying here too, commuting in. Don't think he could bear to be parted from this little one.'

I get it. Unlike me, who wants to be in another country, far, far away.

‘Is the house okay? You and Polly settled? You must be careful, love, apparently there might be a storm coming in, your dad saw it on the internet.'

‘Yes. I—'

‘Oh, love, sorry, got to go!' Lilly's cry filled the room like a siren. ‘She's a bit grumpy; you've caught her just before her nap! Speak soon, Jess. Bye!'

The phone went dead. Jessica held the receiver between her palms. ‘Bye, Mum.'

Jessica went back outside and sank down onto a sun-lounger, still in her pyjamas.