Sins of the Mother (4 page)

‘You see, Jen? You
will
obey me and you
will
listen when I tell you to put your things away otherwise this is the consequence.’

That night she made me put all my things back myself. And I never left a cup up in my room again. It was as if that one little thing out of place had sent her completely mad.

Just a week before we were due to fly to Dublin, Mum was worse than ever. She locked herself away most days now and her crying kept me up at night. Each morning I’d watch
her plod to the bathroom, large purple shadows under her eyes, her tiny frame sunken under her dressing grown. Her torment was so raw, it was unbearable, but I’d run out of things to say to
her now. She didn’t want to talk, she didn’t even want to look at me. Sometimes I wondered if she knew I was there at all.

At school, away from her, I wondered if she would do something stupid. Then, when I got home to find her locked in her room, crying but still alive, relief quickly gave way to anger.
I
shouldn’t be worried about my mother topping herself. I should be gossiping with her about boys and stealing her make-up! That’s what other girls do with their mothers.

Each day after school, as I turned away from the shortcut and up towards the busy main road, I’d turn away from my friends, from the ones who raced home to the warm embrace of their
families every night. I didn’t want them to see the jealousy in my eyes. I didn’t want them to see how much it hurt. Inside, I felt cold towards my mother. I didn’t care about the
commission and what happened to her in her childhood. It was a long time ago now. All I wanted was a nice trip away.
What about my childhood? What about me?

3

JENNIFER

The Redress Board

‘Where are we going?’ I asked Mum as we sped away from Dublin airport in the taxi. It was a beautiful, warm afternoon and, after a cramped flight, I was pleased to
be out in the open and looking forward to seeing all my family But when we got into the taxi, Mum had told him to go to The Cherry Tree B&B and given him a road name I didn’t recognize. I
was confused – if we ever came over to Dublin we stayed with one of my brothers or my sister.

‘We’ve got a little guest house for tonight,’ Mum said quietly, staring out of the window. ‘Just for tonight, mind – we’ll go and stay with your sister
tomorrow.’

‘A guest house? You mean, like a hotel? Will they give us breakfast in the morning?’

‘Yes, they do breakfast,’ Mum said absent-mindedly.

This was a bonus I hadn’t expected! A trip to Dublin and now a free breakfast too! I wondered why Mum was splashing out on a hotel room – she would never normally dream of doing
something like this. She didn’t even have money to pay for my school bus pass – how on earth could she afford a hotel? But I didn’t question her further. I was too excited and I
knew better than to interrogate my mother.

After ten minutes, we turned into a long, wide street flanked by grand Victorian houses on either side. Halfway down we stopped in front of a pretty, cream house with a pink blossoming cherry
tree in the front garden. From the outside it was gorgeous – I hoped it was just as lovely inside. The taxi driver helped us with our bags and Mum paid him in euros, then we walked up the
steps and in through the large arched doorway.

‘Wow!’ I was amazed. It was every bit as posh and elegant as I’d hoped, with a smart green-patterned carpet and chandeliers hanging from high ceilings. What an unexpected
surprise! ‘This is beautiful. Really, really nice. Isn’t it nice, Mum?’

But Mum wasn’t listening – she had started to talk to a blonde, middle-aged lady in tortoiseshell reading glasses sat behind the reception desk, giving her our details. My mind
raced.
Why are we here? Why has Mum brought us to a lovely place like this? Is this a special treat for me? But why?
Oh, I didn’t care about the reasons any more. I was just too
excited and anxious to see our room.

A few minutes later the lady showed us into a large bedroom on the third floor.

‘It’s a family room,’ she explained, holding the heavy door open for us. ‘You’ve got the main bedroom here and then, through that doorway, there’s the smaller
single bedroom. The bathroom is off to the left there.’

I was practically bouncing up and down as we entered the large, high-ceilinged room with the big bay windows. I never expected to have my own bedroom! And it was so plush and luxurious. I ran my
hand along the silky quilted bedspread and admired the corded ivory curtains. Everything was coordinated in subtle tones of cream, chocolate and gold, from the curtains to the carpets, to the
wallpaper, the bedside lamps and even the cushions on the armchair. It was like a palace!

The lady was still talking: ‘Now, breakfast is served between seven and nine-thirty. I hope you’ll be comfortable here and if there’s anything you need, please just
ask.’

Mum walked in slowly behind me. She seemed to be very quiet today.

‘Thank you very much.’ She smiled at the hotel lady, who then left, closing the door behind her. I was so excited I could barely contain myself – I ran through to my room next
door and marvelled at how I had my own TV and how nice everything was. Then I went into the brightly lit bathroom and examined all the free bath products lined up along the sink.

‘Oh look, Mum!’ I yelled. ‘They’ve got little shower caps here! And nail files too!’

I rushed back into Mum’s bedroom. She was sitting on the bed, staring down at the pattern on the duvet, her chin cupped in her hand. She was so still, so thoughtful – it seemed like
she was a million miles away.

‘Mum? Are you okay?’ I asked hesitantly.

Silence.

After a while she sighed and looked up. ‘I’m okay, love. Just, er, just having a little think about things.’

Are we going to unpack?’

‘I don’t think we really need to unpack for just one night, do we? Let’s just leave our things here, freshen up a little and go and see your Aunty Emily.’

Half an hour later, we were on a bus across town on our way to Aunty Emily’s house. It was a gorgeous afternoon – warm, light and breezy, the perfect early summer’s day. We
didn’t even have our coats with us. I felt on top of the world. Here in Dublin, I had so much to look forward to and a whole three days of holiday lined up.

‘Well, now!’ My Aunty Emily took both my shoulders to give me a big hug before standing back to admire me. Aren’t you just getting more and more beautiful every time I see
you!’

‘No, not really,’ I mumbled with a half-smile. My Aunty Emily was always very affectionate with me but these days I towered over her. She was only four feet nine inches and so slim
and small! She had mid-length brown hair, full lips and a wide genuine smile. Everyone said I was the spitting image of her, which was a big compliment because I thought she was beautiful.

I looked around. Her place was immaculate – her husband Chris was a painter and decorator and their semi-detached house was always strikingly done up. They had a cream living room with a
thick white carpet and glass coffee tables, and lovely pictures of the two of them with their two children – Fergus, who was the same age as me, and his sister Evie, ten – dotted about
the walls.

I saw through the patio doors that Fergus was outside in their well-kept front garden and as soon as we sat down, Mum suggested I go out to see my cousin. It wasn’t long before we were
goofing around, play fighting, mucking about on his bikes and being stupid idiots on the trampoline. Mum, meanwhile, sat indoors with Emily, drinking tea.

The time just seemed to slide away from us and after a couple of hours of horsing about, Fergus and I sat down on the patio to get our breath back.

‘So are you staying with your sis while you’re in town?’ Fergus panted.

‘No, my mum got us a B&B,’ I replied. ‘It’s pretty cool actually – I’ve got my own room and a TV at the end of my bed. And they do a proper cooked
breakfast in the morning.’

‘Wow!’ I could tell Fergus was genuinely impressed. ‘Why did she do that then?’

‘I don’t know. It’s only for one night – but it’s pretty nice.’

I glanced in through the patio windows then at my mum and Emily, who seemed to be locked in an intense conversation. Emily was speaking very earnestly, gesticulating wildly with her hands, while
Mum shook her head. Even from here I could see she was gripping her mug so tightly her knuckles had gone white.

‘Are you here long?’ Fergus asked.

‘Just three nights I think.’

‘It’s not long though, is it?’

‘Long enough to get sick of your stupid questions!’ And then we were off again, trying to wrestle each other to the ground. I was having so much fun I didn’t notice the time
go. By the time we left it was already gone 6 p.m. and I was starving.

It felt very grown up to get a ham sandwich in the ‘guest lounge’ of the B&B while the other guests enjoyed evening drinks and munched from little bowls of peanuts and crisps. I
was tired now and grateful that Mum wasn’t in a very talkative mood either. She’d barely said a word to me all the way back; she just stared into space as I wolfed down my tea.

‘Do you want some of mine?’ I offered her a sandwich. She hadn’t eaten since lunch in Manchester airport’s Burger King.

‘No thanks, Jen. You have it. I’m not hungry,’ Mum waved away my offer. Her quietness had returned but there was something else too now – she seemed more anxious than
earlier. I wondered if it was something to do with her discussion with her younger sister. They had each snapped a taut ‘Goodbye’ at each other when we left. No hugs or kisses, barely
any eye contact even.

‘Come on, sleepyhead!’ Mum smiled as she pushed herself up from the armchair. I had finished my sandwich and was now slumped, exhausted, in the gigantic cushions of the hotel sofa.
After all the travelling, the fresh air and the running around with Fergus, I was so tired I could barely keep my eyes open. ‘Let’s go upstairs and get to bed.’

I made sure to have a shower and then I crawled gratefully into my lovely big bed just after 9 p.m. and switched off my bedside light.

‘Are you going to sleep now?’ Mum called from her bedroom where I could see from the flickering light she had the TV on with the sound turned low.

‘I think so,’ I replied, giving way to a giant yawn. ‘I was going to watch something on my telly, but I don’t think I can manage it now.’

‘Alright then. Night, love.’

‘Night, Mum.’

I closed my eyes.

‘Hey, Mum . . .’ I called out sleepily, a little smile tugging on the corners of my mouth.

‘Yes?’

‘It’s been a great day, you know?’

‘Yes. It has. Goodnight.’

‘Night.’

I woke the next day to a room filled with dazzling sunlight. No sooner had I opened my eyes than I had to squint to stop myself being blinded. I’d slept brilliantly in my
lovely big bed and now I had just one thing on my mind – breakfast! Mum was already up and showered so I quickly jumped in the shower and dressed in a hurry.

‘Alright now,’ she said as I came through to her room. ‘Are you all ready?’

‘Yup!’

‘Right, well let’s go down and have some breakfast.’

As soon as I opened the door to our room I could smell the frying bacon. I practically ran down the stairs and there, in the small dining room, was a long table covered in white tablecloths all
laid out with a big breakfast buffet. There were large glass bowls with different fruit and cereals, croissants, bread rolls, plates of ham and cheese, and large silver tureens with lids that
rolled up. I opened each of them excitedly: bacon, sausages, cooked tomatoes, mushrooms and scrambled eggs! There was even a funny grilling machine with a conveyer belt, which I found out from
watching the other guests was actually a toaster. The lady with the tortoiseshell glasses showed us to a table on one side of the dining room and then we helped ourselves to what we wanted. I
loaded my plate with bacon and sausage and toast then sat down opposite Mum, who came back to the table with a bowl of cereal and some fresh fruit. In that instant, I just wanted time to stand
still. Right then, everything was so perfect, so lovely, I wished it would never end.

‘What did you get?’ I asked, admiring the little curls of butter in the cut-glass dish on the table.

‘Just some muesli. And melon. They had two different kinds.’

‘I’ve gone for a Full English!’ I laughed.

‘I can see that! Except here you have to call it the Full Irish. Anyway, make the most of it!’

‘I intend to!’ And with that I picked up the enormous silver cutlery and ploughed into the food.

We didn’t speak much for the rest of the meal. Although she didn’t seem in a bad mood, Mum was still distracted like the night before and she spent much of the time sitting back in
her seat, holding her cup of tea with two hands and staring into space. I didn’t mind – it was enough just to be sitting there together. I couldn’t remember the last time I had
sat down with my mother for breakfast. She didn’t really eat in the mornings, let alone go to the trouble of making a fry-up. On the rare occasion we had a house guest she might fry a little
bacon but I couldn’t remember the last time that had happened. No, this was fantastic and I was going to make the most of every minute.