Weekend reading

This week Lucy fills Deb in on some of Mam's surprising antics

Mam came home for a while after that but it wasn’t much of a while. We all pretended she was getting better but the sight of her in the bed was scary. She couldn’t come downstairs so Dad brought the telly up to the bedroom and we sat there in the evening watching it with her letting on to be a normal family. Well, mostly she was asleep. Elsa stretched out beside the bed, like a big rug. Sometimes Mam put her hand down to touch her and Elsa sat up immediately, looking at her with those soft brown eyes.

  Good girl, Mam would whisper, stroking her wide head. Good girl.

  I think it comforted her. Elsa didn’t expect her to do or say anything whereas me and Dad fussed over her, do you want to sit up, do you want to lie down, do you need an extra pillow, would you like a cup of tea until we wore her out with our silly questions. Mostly they were to make us feel good I suppose. I did have to help her onto the commode and try to wash her in the bed. Things like I never in my life thought I’d be doing. Marge came around to help which was good because I wasn’t always sure I was doing things right. To be fair to her, Mam didn’t grumble but you could see she was in serious pain. Then I’d be afraid to touch her.

  She’d gone as light as a bird by then so it wasn’t physically hard work just sad really. Way sad. She was like a baby again and sometimes I caught a look of fear in her face. I didn’t know what to say to that. An extra pillow or a cup of tea couldn’t make that go away. We were all afraid but her fear was different. Sometimes when I was in the middle of washing her or making up the bed she’d grip my arm and held it so tight I almost screamed. The way she looked at me then I knew she was seeing something I couldn’t see, something really terrifying. A million times worse than any horror movie you’ve ever watched.

 No amount of perfumes or sprays could clear the smell of decay out of the room. I have it still in my nostrils. I was going through two packs of fags a day. Anything to keep that smell away and hold my nerves steady. Mad I know when she was up there dying and maybe it was the fags did for her. I hung out the odd night at Old Julia’s house. It didn’t matter who was there. I just needed to escape and get a bit stoned. It felt good to be able to laugh, even if it wasn’t real laughter.

Here's the other thing you need to know about Mam: she managed to have a good time for a couple of years before she got sick. I’m glad about that now. It all began when Marge won a cruise around the Greek islands in one of those competitions where you have to make up a jingle! We all laughed at her thinking it was a joke because we never imagined Marge had it in her. I can’t remember how it went but it was funny.

She rang Mam the minute she got the news and said she wanted her to come too. Mam did the usual, I can’t and it wouldn’t be right and what if someone contacted us about Deb and she needs me and I don’t want to go anywhere and all the rest of it. Marge told her not to be stupid that if any news came Dad would be able to contact her and that they weren’t going to the moon. And even there she said they’d be able to put through a call. Then Mam went all oh who’d look after Lucy and Pat and how’ll they manage without me. Just fine we said. She wasn’t sure how to take that but in the end of it all Dad told her to go and have a holiday, that it would do her good. For a moment then she felt guilty, saying he needed a break too. He said he’d be happier knowing she was having a good time.

Photo by Gilley Aguilar on Unsplash

  Well, once she was persuaded to go there was no stopping her. She went to Penney’s and bought a load of stuff. Her ‘costumes’ she called the rig outs, topped with a big straw hat. Then they needed all sorts of mosquito spray and sun cream and pills for this and that. I swear to God they might as well have been going to the moon with all the preparations. There was nothing but Nana Moussaka and Demis Roastox playing in the house until she left. Over and Over and Forever and Ever is right. I swear I was hearing those songs in my sleep. When Mam went away I hid the albums. But she was no sooner home than she was ransacking the place for them, so that she could relive the holiday of a lifetime she said. That meant we had to relive it even though we never went on it.  

  Dad drove them to the airport. I went too for the crack. The buzz out there gave me itchy feet, everyone on the go, exotic names on the flight boards, big suitcases, names of foreign cities called over the tannoy. I would have happily squeezed into the departure area with Mam and Marge if I cudda. Instead, I had to trail home with Dad, past the Travellers’ encampment on the new road, children and dogs and ponies roaming between the caravans. For a moment I understood their way of life, the urge to move on and not be tied to one place. Was that the bug that bit you too? The long road opening ahead of you and nothing to hold you back. When you get sick of one place do you just pack your bag and head to the next place? What bag, come to think of it? You didn’t bring one.

  That trip was the best thing Mam ever done, she said. She’d only been away once before and that was to the Isle of Man for her honeymoon. Not saying I didn’t enjoy it she would laugh, looking at Dad, but it wasn’t really abroad was it? Everything was so different out there, she kept saying. All them white houses and the blue sea and the blue sky and the pink flowers. And the sun shining all the time like someone had forgotten to switch the light off. They had a party every night on the boat by the sounds of it. She was glad they got their dinner aboard because she wouldn’t have fancied the food the locals were eating. Their funny wine and oooozo took a bit of getting used to she said. But she worked at it. What a trouper!!

 Marge was raving about it all too and she said she was going to start saving for another one the minute she got home. I had to wonder if there was a bit of romance mixed in with all the sunshine and the wine. Mam was certainly high for a while after she came back. I heard her saying one night to Dad how that now she was home she realised that the holiday was the first time she had been able to relax and not be fretting about you all of the time.  

  I’m glad, he said to her. I’m glad. There’s no shame in enjoying yourself.  

  I know, she said. But I can’t help feeling a bit guilty all the same.

  We’ve been over this before, Love, he said. Worrying about Deb won’t bring her home.

  Do you still—

  Don’t ask me that, he said. I’m just trying to keep going without living in false hope.

  Yes, she said. Yes. Maybe we should try to enjoy ourselves a little more.

  I agree. Dad said.

  I know, she clapped her hands. Let’s go dancing. 

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A little more seasonal this week! Do keep your thoughts on the story of Lucy and her family coming. I love to get your responses.