‘Of course,’ Gloria says. ‘Up the top of the stairs and to your left.’
She doesn’t have to tell me.
I can hear Charlotte singing to Daisy.
I look at the loo to the left and then I look at Gloria’s bedroom to the right, the door is open and I can see him and me tumbling on the bed there.
What if he’d had a heart attack then?
It could have been me standing there wrapped in a towel and crying as Gloria came home.
I’m the biggest bitch I know.
I go back downstairs and maybe Charlotte heard me, because I turn and she is there.
‘She won’t sleep.’ Charlotte is at the door holding Daisy.
‘I told you not to get her out of her cot without calling me,’ Gloria gently scolds her and takes Daisy.
‘Hi, Mum.’ I can see Charlotte’s eyes are wary as she assesses me. I can see the pain and the fear that I’ve caused and I never want her to see me like that again – she’ll never see me like that again.
I mean it.
I know it.
She will never see me in that state again.
‘Hi, baby girl.’ I say. That’s sort of her nickname, what her dad used to call her.
‘Charlotte,’ she says. ‘I don't like being called “baby girl”. I’m not a baby anymore.’
No, she’s not; she’s had to grow up way too fast.
I tell her that Gloria’s offered to take her to the dentist and, Charlotte’s so pleased, it hurts. Then I tell her that Gloria has offered for her to stay for another night and, she’s so pleased that that hurts too.
‘Let’s go and ring mum a taxi,’ Gloria suggests.
‘You can order them online,’ Charlotte says.
‘Really?’ Gloria answers. ‘Show me!’
They really do get on and, without thinking really, Gloria hands Daisy to me and asks if I can hold her for a moment and the two of them go off.
I hold Daisy to me and I remember holding Charlotte. I look down at her and their chins are the same and I remember holding my new baby. I was so scared when they handed her to me, so scared to hold her that I cried when I did. I remember telling her how I’d always be there for her, how I’d never hurt her, what a good mum I’d be. My tears fall on Daisy now, because look what I’ve become…I think Gloria sees me crying because she walks in and walks out with Charlotte. I hear them getting out tins in the kitchen and I weep a little bit more and then I pull myself together enough to say goodbye when the taxi toots. I hand Daisy over and I hug Charlotte, who doesn’t hug me back, she just stands rigid in my arms.
I feel every bump and every bend in the road as the taxi takes me home and there she is waiting, clipping a hedge that doesn’t need clipping, just to have a first row seat at me.
She gives me a cheery wave in her gardening gloves. Hasn't she had enough of a show to be content with? She saw the ambulance last night and she saw the ambulance when he died, and that woman running off.
Hasn’t she got enough gossip stashed up her sleeve already?
What the hell is she doing coming over?
‘Hi Lucy,’ she smiles her perfect smile. ‘How are you – I’ve been so worried. I saw the ambulance.’
Here’s where I lie, here’s where I say something about my asthma (that I don’t have), or that I had a reaction to sleeping tablets, or that I tripped over the dog, except we haven’t got a dog and I’m too tired to lie. I’m too exhausted to cover over the cracks, there’s no point anyway - they’re all gaping open for everyone to see.
So, I give her what she wants, I give her, firsthand, the gossip that will soon line the school and the street.
‘I went on a bender,’ I say and I see her face startle. ‘I made the biggest ice cream cake and, because I didn’t have cream, I washed it down with Baileys.’ I’m starting to cry but I just carry right on. ‘I got so drunk that I fell off the loo and then I shit myself. My daughter found me and thought I was dead like her dad was…’ I think I am going to throw up, I’m crying so hard, thinking what