My Daughter, My Mother (48 page)

His voice cracking as he spoke, Raj said, ‘We’ve called him Hari – it means “the one who belongs to God”.’

As everyone looked at the tiny baby, Roopinder began to weep at last. Sooky took in the sight of Hari, his creased, strained-looking little face. He was a mauve colour and it was easy to tell there was no life in him. Tears filled her eyes. She thought he was the saddest thing she had ever seen.

‘He’s so lovely,’ she whispered to Roopinder, and touched her shoulder, before moving away to let Harpreet look at him. She heard her sister’s sobs break out at the sight of the tiny little one.

Everyone hugged and wept with the couple. As her brother approached her, Sooky saw the deep hurt in his eyes and all she could think of was giving comfort. Silently she reached out to embrace Raj, and they hugged and she felt his body convulse as they cried in each other’s arms.

‘I’m so sorry,’ she said, her lips close to his ear.

‘Thanks,
Veer-ji
,’ he murmured back.

And Sooky knew she was crying all the more because, after all this time, instead of his cold insults, Raj had called her by the affectionate name that he had not used for her in such a long time.

Sooky’s call in the morning had been a disappointment for Joanne. She had really been looking forward to seeing her – especially as it might be the last time for a while that she could come to their house.

‘Your poor brother,’ she said. ‘And his wife, of course. That’s really awful.’

‘It is.’ Sooky sounded very subdued. ‘She’s just going to have to go through it. Look, I’m sorry – maybe we could meet next week?’

Joanne hesitated. ‘I hope so, I’ll have to see.’

‘Is he still coming home?’

‘Yes – tomorrow.’

They wished each other luck.

The day stretched ahead empty in front of Joanne. She wanted to go out, not sit brooding about how things might be the next day and the day after. Once the chores and Amy’s nap were over, they’d go into town, she decided.

In the end she didn’t get out until nearly three o’clock.

‘Now,’ she said to Amy, when they’d climbed off the bus and sorted out the buggy, ‘we’ll go and have a look round the shops.’

She headed for New Street, hoping the sights would distract her thoughts, but round and round went her head. She could think of nothing but Dave coming home. Some of the time she was full of dread. Several times she nearly collided with people along the crowded pavement, she was so lost in thought. She took Amy to buy a jumper for the winter.

‘You’re growing too fast, young lady,’ she said, pushing the jumper, in its bag, under the buggy. ‘You’ll soon grow out of everything.’

Off went her thoughts again. She had a surge of energy and optimism. She loved Dave – he was her husband and she wanted to see him! They could do this; they could start afresh. And it was up to her, not just up to him!

She managed to buy herself a new pair of jeans, keeping Amy happy with a bottle of juice. The time seemed to pass quickly.

‘Right,’ Joanne said. ‘We’ll go down to the Bull Ring and get some fruit and veg and then we’ll get home, okay?’

As it was near the end of the day, some of the stallholders were reducing their prices to sell stuff off. She wheeled Amy round to take in the sights and sounds, the piles of cheap crockery being sold, the toys and watches. All the time there was the smell of oranges, crushed underfoot, and the loud shouting about apples and mushrooms, carrots and spuds. One stall was piled with pumpkins, as it was Halloween. Joanne held out her bag for them to tip in a pound of carrots, a cabbage, some knock-down mushrooms. Most of them called out to Amy in a friendly way and she watched, fascinated.

At the top of the slope the lady with the flowers was selling off her last bouquets. Joanne leaned over Amy’s buggy.

‘We’ll get a bunch of flowers, shall we?’ She found she wanted the house to look nice tomorrow. One minute full of dread, the next a good wife. It was all part of the confusion.

As she went to walk past Woolworths a short, grizzly man shook a tin at her.

‘Help for striking miners’ families,’ he said. Absent-mindedly she slipped fifty pence through the slot.

Nearby the newspaper-sellers were calling out as well, ‘Get yer
Mail
!’ One of them stood holding a copy of the paper. The headline caught her eye: INDIRA GANDHI ASSASSINATED.

Hesitating, she thought of Sooky. In their conversations Sooky had talked a bit about India and politics, but Joanne didn’t feel she knew much about it. She wheeled Amy over and bought a copy, before heading up to buy the flowers.

Later, while unpacking the shopping, she took out the newspaper. The Indian Prime Minister, Indira Gandhi, had been gunned down that morning by her Sikh bodyguards. Joanne read the report, frowning. The assassination was said to be in revenge for her ordering the Indian army to storm the Sikhs’ most sacred temple in Amritsar.

Realizing she did not really understand the whole thing, Joanne switched on the TV. There were Sikhs rejoicing at the news, fists raised high. She switched it off again. She would have to ask Sooky.

Then realization returned to her, making her insides clench. Dave was coming home. In just a few hours.

Sikhs. She was murdered by Sikhs.

Even in their grief, this news overrode everything. It was all they could think about. They sat round the TV, watching report after report.

Roopinder was still in the hospital, in a drugged sleep after her ordeal. Raj would have been asleep too, had things been different. As it was, he was glued to the images on the screen. The Hindus were distraught with grief at the death of ‘Mother India’, the Sikhs rejoicing at the death of the loathed woman who had ordered the desecration of their most sacred temple and the slaughter of so many of their people.

‘She’s gone!’ Raj kept saying. He was still tearful, full of grief, but now also of triumph. ‘That filthy bitch has gone!’

But there would be a backlash. What would happen now? Meena thought that she had never in her life felt more helpless. She sat tensely on the sofa, Harpreet beside her, stealing distressed glances at her mother’s reaction.

All of them had their emotions pulled in so many directions: grief, triumph, horror.

At last Nirmal had managed to book a call from Delhi. He had no telephone in his house. Meena wept with relief, hearing his affectionate voice down the line.

‘It was early this morning,’ he yelled. He always shouted into the telephone, even though there was no need. ‘She was walking in her own grounds. It was her bodyguards . . .’

‘I know all this,’ Meena said impatiently. ‘We have it all on TV. But you . . . I am afraid of what is going to happen. You should leave – get out of Delhi. Come to UK, to us . . .’

‘We are okay,’ Nirmal said. ‘I think everyone is shocked. To tell you the truth, I am worried, but what can I do? I don’t have money to come to UK.’

‘I send you! We are frightened for you. We will get a ticket for you.’

‘Nothing is going to happen,’ he said. ‘I cannot leave. I have my business – everything. You are worrying too much.’

Meena listened to his jovial tones, the voice of the man she had looked up to and loved for so many years.

‘I wish you were here,’ she said desperately. ‘I am so worried for you.’

She sent her love to Bhoji and all the family and rang off. He had sounded so sure – too sure. But had there not been a tremor in his voice? Forever after, she never knew if she had imagined it.

Sixty

Thursday. As soon as she woke, Joanne had butterflies in her stomach.
He . . . is . . . coming . . . home . . .
Without waking Amy, she managed to creep down, make a mug of coffee and take it back to bed.

She sat with the duvet pulled up round her, sipping the coffee. Tonight he’ll be here with me, lying next to me, she thought. And tomorrow Megan is coming to see us again. Dave had had the shock of his life when the police turned up on his doorstep. Surely he’d learned his lesson and things could get better? A rush of longing filled her. Let it be okay. Let it work out,
please
.

Once she was up, she found herself wanting to make everything nice. She fed Amy, then dashed round tidying up. She even put the oven on and baked a cake, grating orange peel into it so that the warm, fruity smell seeped round the house.

The phone rang, and with her heart pounding she rushed to answer it.

‘Jo, what time’s he coming back?’ It was Karen, phoning from work.

‘I’m not sure. This morning – soon.’

‘You okay?’

‘Think so. Bit nervous.’ She couldn’t think of anything to say. Her mind was jittering all over the place. She must go and make the bed, pop out and buy some milk . . .

‘Well, I hope it goes okay,’ Karen said cautiously.

‘Yeah . . .’ Before her sister rang off, Joanne managed to pull herself together and say, ‘Look, Karen – sorry. I’m just a bit out of it. But thanks, you know, for being such a help and everything.’

‘Oh, that’s okay,’ Karen said. The words
Someone’s got to keep it together in our family
were left unsaid, but implied in her tone. Joanne smiled as she rang off, thinking: At least we’re giving practice to a budding counsellor.

But as she rushed round doing chores, her thoughts stayed with her family. She was surprised by her mother’s reaction. Of course she’d had the lecture, to start with. Margaret had always been old-fashioned, up in arms when anyone stepped out of line, broke up a marriage or had a baby out of wedlock. But somehow she seemed to have come to terms with what had happened more quickly than Joanne had expected. She had her own things to deal with of course – getting off the Valium. But in fact . . .

Joanne stopped for a moment, standing in Amy’s room. Mom seemed different altogether these days. She had been so wrapped up in her own problems that she hadn’t given it much thought before. But all that business with the new clothes . . . It dawned on her that for the first time she could ever remember, her mother looked happy.

Dave had to ring the bell again when he arrived.

Joanne hesitated behind the door for a few seconds. Would the Coles be twitching their net curtains, seeing him come home?

‘You know we’re here if you ever need us, bab,’ Mrs Coles had said. And it was reassuring to know.

Now
, she thought unlatching the door.
It’s the beginning
.

There he was, spruce as ever: well-ironed jeans, navy jumper, hair freshly cut. He had his things in a zip-up bag of Wendy’s and a bin-liner tied neatly at the top.

Joanne smiled, feeling as if they were on a first date. His face was full of uncertainty, but he smiled back, in a humble way.

‘Can I come in then?’ he said.

Once they’d closed the front door, he put his bags down and held out his arms and she, a bit awkward at first, stepped up to him. Silently they held one another. From the back room they could hear Amy chatting to herself.

‘Amy, look who’s here,’ Joanne said after a minute.

Her little blonde head appeared round the door. ‘Dada!’

Dave leaned down and scooped her up so that the three of them were all in one hug. He kissed each of them and held them tight.

‘Home,’ he said. ‘Oh God, it’s good to be home.’ And in front of Amy he managed not to dissolve into tears.

That day reminded Joanne of the time after she had first brought Amy home from hospital, when all normal routines had been suspended. There was a floating quality of everyone just being together and taking no notice of time or anything else.

Shyly she offered Dave a cup of coffee.

‘That looks nice,’ he said, standing at the kitchen door and seeing her cake cooling on the rack.

‘I’ll put some icing on later,’ she said. ‘It’s too warm now.’

They spent the morning just sitting together, playing with Amy, giving her lunch, letting her watch
Sesame Street
when it came on. She asked him when he was thinking of going back to work, but he shrugged and avoided answering. So she asked what he’d been doing at Wendy’s.

‘Not much,’ he said. ‘Watching telly – helping Mom out a bit.’

Her spirits sank. He still seemed so punch-drunk, as if all his spark had gone, even after several weeks. Was he ever going to get better again?

He seemed happiest when she was talking, so she told him what she’d been doing while he was away, about her friendship with Sooky and going to meet her family. No more pretending, she thought. I’ve got to have friends and go out – I’m not going to be stuck in the house just with him. Everything’s going to be in the open.

‘She’s ever so nice,’ she told him. ‘You’ll like her – she’s really kind and chatty. And her daughter and Amy are best friends.’ She felt proud that Amy had a little friend. ‘Sooky’s started a degree: she wants to be a social worker, so that’s why she can’t come to the toddler group. She’s very clever.’

She waited for Dave to ask about Kieran, but he didn’t, so she said, ‘You remember that guy we met up Soho Road that time – with the red hair? Well, he’s really nice too, but he’s not around any more. His wife’s come out of hospital, so he’s been able to go back to work. I’m glad things are working out for them – so far as I know.’

Dave nodded, seeming to listen. Joanne realized, with a moment of worry, that at the moment she could say or do almost anything. He wouldn’t dare to challenge her. But would it last, when he was feeling stronger? Would his old, possessive ways come creeping back?

All he seemed to want to do was sit beside her. She noticed that even when she got up and left the room to make sandwiches for lunch, he seemed anxious and wanted her back beside him.

As
Sesame Street
ended, she got up. ‘Come on, Amy, time for your nap.’

Amy looked round and said cheekily, ‘No – Amy stay!’ She stuck her lip out. But in a second she was rubbing her eyes.

‘Come on, young lady.’ Joanne took her hand. ‘Give Daddy a kiss.’

The sight of Amy reaching up with pursed lips to kiss Dave brought sudden tears to her eyes.

‘I think she’ll settle,’ she said, coming back down a bit later. ‘She’s quite good at the moment.’