Mother's Story (25 page)

He smiled at Topaz. ‘Things have been really hard.'

Topaz kept his eyes on the suds. ‘In what way?'

Matthew sighed. The wine had lubricated his tongue. ‘Jess. She… she's…'

‘I can see she's distant. Polly says it's as though she's lost her spark. I don't know her as well, obviously, but she does seem to be struggling a bit,' Topaz said, conscious that it might not be his place to comment.

‘You see, that's the thing.' Matthew held Topaz's eye. ‘Everyone talks about her struggle, but it's not like she's being sent down a mine every day or is living in a fucking refugee camp.' Matthew shook his head, regretting raising his voice. This was, after all, her parents' home. He looked over at Roger, who was snoring, oblivious.

‘You sound angry.'

‘I think I've every right to be angry.' He lowered his tone to a whisper. ‘We don't shag any more, because she's too tired. Christ, to think we used to joke about not having sex any more, we just couldn't see that happening to us.' Matthew sighed. ‘But that's not what gets me.' He paused. ‘We don't laugh any more because she's too sad; we don't do anything any more, fuck all, and she's got this great life and this great baby.' Matthew set the pan down on the counter top. ‘I sometimes…'

‘You sometimes what?'

‘I sometimes make out I'm working late and just sit at my desk because I can't face going home.' Matthew ran his fingers through his hair. ‘I haven't told anyone that.'

‘Is it really that bad?'

Matthew exhaled through bloated cheeks and rubbed his chin. ‘I love her, Paz. I love her so much that I would die for her, you know.'

Topaz nodded. ‘Not wanting to go home is really sad. Can you talk to her about it?'

Matthew shook his head. ‘Not really. In fact not at all. She's very remote and sensitive and if I mention anything, she closes up even further and then we get the tears, or should I say more tears.' He ground his teeth.

‘Do you think she might be depressed? I see it a lot through my classes.' Topaz let the idea hang.

Matthew gave a wry laugh. ‘What does she have to be depressed about? Christ almighty, all she has to do is swan around our ridiculously expensive house, give her child the odd bottle and change her nappy. How hard can it be? I do it every second I'm not at work. It's not like she's juggling a career. She doesn't even have to go food shopping, I have it all delivered. I try and be the best husband I can, I do everything, including encourage her and support her and tell her that it doesn't matter even though it does matter. It matters a lot!'

‘She probably knows all that, but after you've had a baby your hormones can go a bit crazy. If she is suffering from postnatal depression, it's not her fault, it's not her being lazy or off. She's poorly.'

‘Who are you, Mr Giving Birth Expert as well?'

‘No, I just like you both very much and sometimes it's easier to see what's going on from the outside looking in. And I bet you're both exhausted and that makes everything even harder to deal with.'

‘I'm sorry I snapped. It's not your fault, and I appreciate your words and your concern, but she's my wife and I should be able to sort this out and the truth is it's killing me.' Matthew was mortified to feel tears gathering at the back of his throat.

‘You could talk to your doctor, ask if he will come and see her?' Topaz removed his arms from the sink. This required his full attention.

Matthew shook his head. ‘I don't want any bloody do-gooder coming round and making things worse. What would they do, give her pills?'

‘Possibly.' Topaz shrugged. ‘But if they helped…'

Matthew shook his head. ‘I don't want her walking around like a zombie, it's bad enough now. The Jessica I married was strong and feisty, a real coper. I'm waiting for her to get back to that. I'm sure she will. I know she will. It's just going to take a little bit of time.'

Topaz nodded and put his arms back in the sink, unable to look at his new friend. ‘You're probably right.'

Jessica walked out of her parents' house and skirted Hylands Park, able to breathe for the first time that day, out of sight of her family, who she was certain were always watching her, judging and waiting for her to mess up.

The park was full of families ambling across the springy grass, strolling hand in hand and working off overly large lunch portions. Dads chased toddlers and mums cradled babies in papooses slung across their chests. Jessica slowed her pace to watch the women, all seemingly managing with ease to perform the basic duty of looking after their children.
Lucky, lucky things.
She pictured running across the grass with Danny. Chasing after her big, fast brother, happy to run in his shadow while he led the way. Her mum and dad had strolled behind, hand in hand, happy. Happy because they didn't know what was around the corner, didn't know that this slice of bliss was temporary, that it would all be taken from them in the time it took for a brake to be applied and for a young boy to forget to look both ways. She thought back to dancing in her pants in the kitchen in Chiswick: maybe that had been their slice of bliss. She craved that feeling that the whole world was opening up and that as long as she and Matt were a team, they could conquer it. Her heart had nearly burst with joy to be in his arms. It felt like a long, long time ago.

Without warning, a powerful sob built in her chest and took her breath away. Raising her hand over her mouth, she cried into her cupped palm, looking to the left and right to check that none of her parents' friends or neighbours were around. ‘Help me! Please someone help me,' she mumbled, walking quickly, without giving any thought to where she was heading, but knowing that she wanted to keep moving. She kept hearing Lilly's little voice saying ‘Gah!' and squealing in delight. It reverberated round her head. She wished it would stop.

It started to rain. Two years ago, on that magical day in the soggy Sainsbury's car park when Matthew had proposed, when he had loved her so completely – her and her alone – he'd said,
‘I want you to have my babies. And I can't imagine any other future than one with you.' But what about now, Matt? I bet you wish I would just disappear, leaving you and Lilly in peace. You are both better off without me. Everyone would be.

She continued along Albert Road, eventually finding herself outside the train station on South Street. A tinny, nasal voice announced that the next train on platform three would not be stopping and that everyone should keep back behind the yellow lines – the place was deserted anyway. Feeling in her jeans pocket, Jessica pulled out her phone and her credit cards and travelcard that sat neatly in the little slots in its inside cover. Extracting her Oyster card, she hovered it over the barrier and made her way to the platform. She walked all the way along it to the point where a steep grassy bank sloped down to meet the track. She stared down at the litter that gathered there: a faded plastic bottle of Coke, an old copy of
Metro
and some cigarette stubs.

Standing very still, with her toes nudging the edge of the platform, she listened as the wind whistled about her, whipping her hair across her face and distorting the twangs and pings of the track so they almost echoed. The rain fell in large droplets, bouncing off the tracks and flattening her hair against her head. Jessica looked down the line and through the haze could see the lights of the oncoming train. They looked like eyes. Removing her hands from her pockets, she let them fall limply to her sides. She closed her eyes. Her pulse beat loudly in her ears and the rain cloaked everything in a misty haze. She took deep breaths and let the tears run down her face. She tipped her head back and welcomed the feeling of tranquillity that came over her.

‘Jessica?'

Opening her eyes, she stared at the grey-haired man in the long dark coat who stood by her side in the rain. He reached out and gripped her arm and in that second the train hurtled past, pulling her towards the track. She teetered before stepping backwards with her heart pounding in her chest. It took a while for her to focus and recognise that it was Reverend Paul, from St Stephen's.

‘Are you okay?' he asked, his voice soft, his forehead creased in concern.

She nodded.

‘What in God's name are you doing, child?'

‘Just… just stretching my legs, getting some fresh air.' She gave a false, bright smile. ‘I… I need to go home.' She shrugged free from his grip and with legs that felt like jelly made her way out of the station and back towards her parents' house.

She let herself in via the back door and walked into the kitchen, where her parents, husband, Polly and Paz were seated around the table, drinking tea and chatting. The baby monitor lay in the middle of the table.

‘Hey, Jess!' Roger smiled at his little girl.

Jessica unzipped her wet coat and slicked her hair back on her head.

‘Look at you, you're soaking!' Coral pulled out a chair and placed her daughter in it, then fetched a towel that she rubbed over her wet hair. Jessica closed her eyes and enjoyed the sensation.

Coral tutted. ‘I still wish you'd get these locks chopped, Jess. I'd love to treat you. A lovely bob would look so pretty on you. Your ends are rather tatty.'

Polly winked at her friend.

‘I've been thinking…' Jessica whispered.

‘Oh? What about, darling? Your haircut?'

Jessica shook her head as though she didn't have the foggiest idea what her mother was talking about. ‘I think… I think Margaret might be right, a week in Majorca might do me good.' She swallowed. ‘Is that okay, Matt?'

Matthew shot Topaz a glance. ‘Yes, of course. Anything that helps get you back on form, Jess.'

‘Will you come with me, Poll?' she asked.

‘Oh God! You mean a whole week in your in-laws' lovely villa overlooking the sea with nothing to do but top up my tan and chat to my best friend? If I absolutely
have
to!'

Jess was silent, but the others laughed. And right on cue, Lilly started crying.

11th November, 2014

A nurse came and found me today as I sat in the recreation room, to tell me I had visitors. I wasn't expecting anyone and her words sent a stab of panic through my gut. I held my breath. I walked along the corridor towards the family room. The first thing I saw was Polly, shining, bright and beautiful. She was upright and had a smile in place; one I know she would have practised in the mirror before she arrived. Her blue jumper was vivid, unlike my clothes, which have suffered at the hands of the industrial laundry and the harsh chemicals they use to keep every sort of bug at bay. Her hair was shorter. She looked lovely – clean in a way that's hard to achieve in here – and happy to see me. I felt a small flash of envy. Our lives started out so similarly, how come they ended up so differently when we wanted the same things? Who chose this for me?

Paz was next to her. ‘Hey, Jess.' He seemed very relaxed, as though we were meeting in a coffee shop or had bumped into each other in the street by accident. ‘How you doing?'

How am I doing? I am broken. Completely broken. But to say so would have caused me pain, so instead I shrugged a little.

‘We're worried about you, Jess.' He leant forward, with his elbows on his knees, his voice a conspiratorial whisper. ‘We heard that there had been a hiccup. And you were doing so well.' He was right, I was doing so well, but the dip took me lower than I had been before. As low as I could go.

‘Are you okay now?' he continued. ‘Are you feeling a bit better after the incident?'

I couldn't look at him. Where to begin?

A hiccup? An incident? I tried to kill myself. It didn't work, obviously, and that upsets me more than anyone can know and now they watch me every second of every day.

‘Is there anything you need?' He bent low, trying to make eye contact.

What did I need? I need the same thing I have always needed, to rewind to when my life was perfect. Paz smiled again at me, trying to make me listen. ‘I want you to know that I am doing all I can to get you released. I am fighting for you in every way I can. We are not giving up and so you mustn't either. We are a team. You in here and us out there, we are a team and you are not alone. So even if there are moments when you feel alone, try and remember that you aren't. Try and remember that we are on your side and that we love you.'

‘Talk to me, Jess,' he prompted.

But I couldn't talk to him, I can't talk to anyone. There is so much I want to say that it would take the rest of my life and so there is no point starting. No point in making small talk when my life is over. I have nothing. Nothing. Everything is destroyed. Everything. I remember my dad once said, ‘Be patient on the dark days, because they pass.' That's a lie; sometimes they don't, sometimes they just get darker and darker until you can only feel your way, trying not to stumble.

I pictured Matthew, before life went wrong saying, ‘Jess, my Jess. There is nothing you can do, nothing that would make me stop loving you.' But he didn't mean it. Nothing is forever, nothing.

‘Don't cry.' Polly finally spoke.

Funny, I hadn't realised I was crying. I can't help it; it's my normal state in here. I am sad and homeless, like a snail without a shell. I have nowhere to hide and I am vulnerable and I would give anything, anything to make it stop.

‘Would you like us to leave?'

I looked at Paz and managed a single nod. I didn't want them sitting there watching me. I don't want anyone to see me. I don't even look in a mirror. I don't want to see me.