Between You and Me (23 page)

‘Hey, Sal. You made it. I didn’t know if Charlie would let you.’ I bristle slightly at that comment, but let it go. The man is worn out. Perhaps I haven’t hidden your contempt for my family, or for me, as well as I thought.

‘Of course I made it – she’s my sister. Is she OK?’ Tony throws his cigarette butt down, and motions towards the doors.

‘Come and see for yourself. She’s knackered and worried, but the doctors have been round this morning and it’s all looking a bit more positive. I was just ringing your dad to let him know. Your mum’s up there already.’ He gives a tired smile, and I feel a beat of sympathy for him. He is another one who has no family of his own – his parents were killed in a car accident when he was a teenager and the elderly aunt who brought him up died three years ago. Tony, however, is the complete opposite to you and has embraced being part of a large family. We head up to Anna’s room, and when I enter I see my mum leaning over the bed. My mum is worried, I know, but she’ll be in her element having Anna and the baby to fuss over.

‘Hey, you. Always the one to cause a drama.’ I lean down and kiss Anna on the head, and she punches me on the arm.

‘Sorry I stole your limelight.’ She smiles up at me, glowing despite the exhaustion. ‘Have you seen him yet?’ A worried look flits across her face as she bites her lip.

‘Not yet. I came straight to find you.’

‘God, Sal, he’s beautiful, but he’s just so tiny.’ Tears fill her eyes and I pass her a tissue. Mum bustles off, taking Tony with her, leaving Anna and I to have a moment alone.

‘What has the doctor said?’

‘They think he’ll be OK. He’s too small, so they want to keep him here until he puts a bit of weight on, and he needs help feeding, but the doctor says, all being well, he’ll be able to go home in three to four weeks, which would have been around his due date anyway.’ She gives a thin smile and blows her nose.

‘Well, that’s good news. You had us all worried, you know.’ I squeeze her hand. ‘Maggie will be so excited to meet her new cousin. What are you going to call him?’

‘He’s going to be James, after Tony’s dad. Is Mags here? Where’s Charlie?’ She tries to peer past me, looking for her niece. Anna and Maggie have a special bond – they are both so alike; it’s almost as though as soon as Maggie was born they were destined to be best friends.

‘Not here. Charlie has taken Maggie to Legoland for the day. It was already arranged. We didn’t want to let Maggie down.’ I don’t say anything more than that, incorporating myself into it so it doesn’t look as though you are completely heartless.

‘Oh, I’m sorry, Sal. I’ve ruined your day out.’

‘Don’t be silly – you’re far more important than Legoland, and anyway it’ll do Charlie some good to look after Maggie alone.’

Mum and Tony come back, carrying coffees for everyone. Mum has also stashed a carrier bag of food in Anna’s locker, on the understanding that now Anna is a mum she must keep her strength up, but hospital food won’t do that for her. We all perch in various spots on Anna’s bed, keeping her company until the doctor comes to check on her. Tony takes Mama and me down to meet Baby James. He is so fragile and tiny, lying there in his incubator, that it is almost frightening. It is such a relief to know he is going to be OK – Mama has finally stopped crying, her tears leaking soundlessly in a steady stream down her chin as she gazes at her new grandchild. My heart swells as I watch his tiny hands and feet waving in the air, his thin cheeks yet to take on the soft fullness of a full-term newborn. We all feel remarkably blessed.

I manage to spend most of the day with Anna, flitting between her bedside and going down to see Baby James whenever the nurses will let us. By the time I leave in the early evening, Anna looks completely worn out, and Tony has arrived back at the hospital after heading home for a quick shower and change of clothes.

‘Listen, I’m going to leave Tony in charge now,’ I say, leaning over to give Anna a kiss goodbye. ‘He’s beautiful, you guys. Anna, you did so well – I’ll come back soon, when it’s OK to bring Mags. She’ll be dying to meet him.’ We say our goodbyes and I jump back on the bus home. On the journey, I think back to when Maggie was born and feel relieved that she was born at the right time, safe and well, in the comfort of our own home. I resolve to speak to you when I get home, to remind you of how blessed we are.

It’s not until I put my key in the door and enter the house to silence that I realise you aren’t home yet. Lost in my own thoughts on the journey back from the hospital, I didn’t even notice that the car wasn’t on the drive. It’s only six-thirty and realistically too early for you to be back yet, so I take the opportunity to shower off the smell of the hospital and fix myself something to eat.

By eight-thirty, I am starting to get a little anxious. I would have thought you would have been home by now, or at least called to say you were on your way. Maggie was up early and will be exhausted after a full day at Legoland, and she’ll need a bath before she goes to bed. I feel mildly irritated that you have kept her out past her bedtime already, when it will be me that has to deal with her tired, fractious mood tomorrow. I try your mobile but it just goes straight to voicemail, and a shiver snakes down my spine. What was the last thing you said to me this morning, after I told you I was going to the hospital?
I’m not guaranteeing that I’ll bring her back, though – maybe it’s time you learnt where your priorities should lie.

You wouldn’t, would you? Beginning to panic I try your mobile again to no avail. I debate whether to go next door and speak to Laura, but she already has ideas in her head about our relationship and I don’t want to fuel the fire. She’ll want to call the police and I’m not ready to do that yet. Maggie is with you and I know you won’t let any harm come to her. I decide to call the hospitals before making any rash decisions. Maybe there’s been an accident? I check the online traffic reports, but there are no reported major accidents. I call every hospital I can think of between here and Windsor, and not one of them has had anyone brought in under either your or Maggie’s name. I even ring Tony, on the off-chance that you might have taken Maggie in to see Anna on your way home, but he says he hasn’t seen you, and from his hushed tones I can tell he is still at the hospital. Feeling sick, I pick up the phone to call the police and my mobile rings, Johnny Cash’s ‘Folsom Prison Blues’ blaring out in the ringtone you hate so much.

‘Hello?’ I fumble with the phone as I bring it to my ear, fingers shaking.

‘So you’re home, then?’ There is an undeniable sneer in your voice.

‘Charlie! Where are you? Are you on your way home?’ I am so relieved to hear from you, to know that you are OK, that I don’t even care about the cold edge to your tone.

‘No, we’re not. I told you, Sal, that if you went to the hospital to see Anna, you would be taking the chance that I wouldn’t be returning home.’ You wait, triumphantly, it seems, for my response.

‘Charlie, please. Don’t be silly. Just come home. We can talk about it. Where is Maggie? Is she all right?’ I just want Maggie home with me. It’s nearly eleven o’clock and she should be asleep in her own bed.

‘She’s fine, but we’re not coming back.’ Your voice is flat, emotionless.

‘Charlie!’ I gasp, feeling my throat constrict with the weight of hot tears.

‘TONIGHT. I won’t be back tonight. Possibly, we will be back tomorrow – I’ll see how the mood takes us when we wake up. But Sal, you should realise life could be like this for you all the time – not knowing where Maggie is, who she’s with. I could take her and make sure you never, ever get her back. Do you understand?’

I hate you.
That is the thought that floods my brain as I hear your spiteful, cruel words that hurt more than any punch, any kick, any burn you’ve inflicted on me. I bite back the words I long to say, reining it all in until I have Maggie back at home where she belongs.

‘OK, Charlie. I understand. Please will you … please just consider coming home tomorrow? We can talk about things if you want to, but if you don’t want to then that’s fine, too. Just come home.’ I wait, listening to your breath at the other end of the line.

‘I’ll think about it, but I’m not promising. You have to learn to get your priorities right, Sal. Your own daughter should come first, not some kid you’ve never even met.’

I am completely astounded. You have managed to make a newly born, premature baby – a part of our family – whose future was just about as uncertain as could be, sound like some sort of
teenage layabout
, one of those kids who hangs around outside the shops trying to get served with fags and beer. I decide to just go with it, in the hope that you will bring my daughter home to me tomorrow.

‘Yes, of course. I will. Will you just please tell me where you’re staying tonight? I just want to know where Maggie is, that’s all, so I don’t worry.’

‘If you were here, you wouldn’t have to worry, would you?’

You’re deliberately being difficult and I feel like I can never win – if I hadn’t asked, you would have said that I didn’t even care enough to know where Maggie was staying. ‘Please, Charlie. I’ve learnt my lesson, OK?’

‘We’re staying at the Legoland Hotel. Maggie was tired and I wanted to give her a proper treat. She was disappointed that you ruined the day by not coming, and this turned it into an adventure.’ Ignoring your little dig, I apologise once again for letting Maggie down and hang up.

I am furious. Blood boiling, steaming, raging furious. How dare you keep my daughter from me and drag her into your games? I have put up with so much of your shit and for so long, all in the attempt to create a safe, family environment for Maggie to grow up in. I wanted Maggie to have the kind of childhood I had, with two parents who love each other. Combine that with your insistence that you can’t live without me and I’ve always felt like I didn’t have any other option but to stay and put up with it. It’s always been me that takes the brunt of it all – your moods, your behaviour, your frankly disgusting treatment of me. But now you’ve decided to change the game and draw Maggie into it, even though she’s too young to realise it. Now, I have to make my decision – something has to change. This,
tonight
, your attitude to tiny Baby James, who as far as you are aware might not pull through –
this
is the final straw. The nail in our coffin. Old Sal is back, the Sal who would never have let anyone treat them like this until you came along with your control, and your power games, threatening to kill yourself if I ever left. I have made my mind up. I am getting out of this, once and for all.

Chapter Thirty-Two

CHARLIE

I drive away, ignoring Sal who is waving like an idiot from the doorway. A mild headache thumps away at the back of my head, caused by Sal’s determination to spoil our day out, and another prickle of anger snakes its way through me. I am so angry – Sal’s selfish, grasping family has ruined our entire weekend. Not content to pass judgement on my parenting skills, our relationship and anything else they think is their business, they have now ruined the only full weekend we have had together in months.

Maggie is singing under her breath in the back seat, seemingly not all that bothered that Sal has ditched us. A tiny spark of guilt wafts up – Anna didn’t know she would go into labour this early, and Maggie doesn’t seem too adversely affected – but I squash it down immediately, instead fuelling my anger by thinking about Sal’s attitude this morning. Staring me down, telling me Anna is more important than Maggie and me. I decide that today is the day I will teach Sal a proper lesson. Today I’ll show Sal what things
could
be like.

The weather is a direct reversal of my mood – warm and sunny, not a cloud in the sky – and, despite the long queues and miles of walking, Maggie has a whale of a time at Legoland. I try my hardest to get into the spirit of things, even though I am still feeling irate and resentful at Sal’s absence. We ride all the rides that she’s big enough to go on, twice when the queues allow, watch a pirate show which mostly consists of people wearing eye patches swinging from rigging over a tiny lake, and then head over to the Pizza Palace for all-you-can eat pizza and pasta. By this time Maggie is looking worn out, and I decide to put my plan into action.

‘Hey, Mags, you know there’s a hotel here?’ Maggie looks up from slurping her spaghetti and nods.

‘Aunty Julia says next time she comes we’re going to stay in it.’ She takes another bite, and I feel a frown wrinkle my brow.
Bloody Julia.
This makes my mind up for me – there is no way bloody Julia is bringing my daughter to stay here, not unless I’ve brought her first. This is just another example of how Sal’s family want to take over – giving Maggie all the exciting experiences and making all the best memories without a thought for how I feel about things. Presumably Sal will know all about this idea of Julia’s but will have kept it a secret from me. I store it up in the back of my mind, ready to throw out as more evidence of Sal’s deceitfulness.

Maggie finishes eating, so we walk over to the hotel and book in. She is over the moon, babbling all the way up to our room and I feel a tiny bit smug that I beat Julia to it. Maggie wants to ring Sal and spill the beans about us staying at the hotel, but I remind her that Sal is probably still at the hospital.

‘Aunty Anna’s had her baby, hasn’t she? So everyone has to go and see her, instead of coming here for a lovely day out with us. We can ring home later, once we’ve maybe … I don’t know … gone in the pirate pool?’ Maggie squawks with delight, and I help her struggle into her Little Mermaid swimming costume. Luckily I remembered to pack one for her in the bag I stashed in the boot without Sal seeing. Although Sal is probably under the illusion that my saying, ‘We might not come back,’ is an idle threat, my mind is made up that this is the only way to teach Sal a lesson.

Maggie swims for a couple of hours, until she is so exhausted there is no other option but to go up to the room and get her to bed. It’s ten-thirty, and we have been busy all day. Sal would never have allowed her to stay up this late, being a firm believer in routine – the fact that I have flouted the rules gives me a small sense of satisfaction. I carry her up, and by the time we get into our bedroom she is fast asleep on my shoulder. Tucking her straight into bed, I switch the kettle on and check my phone. There are seventeen missed calls from Sal, and I allow myself a tiny, self-satisfied smile. It looks like someone has been getting worried.