Authors: Martina Cole
Jenny and Eileen were in The Highwayman pub with Linda’s parents, Sally and Peter Lloyd, when the happy couple announced they were having a baby. After the champagne had been ordered and glasses raised, Cain Junior told Jenny that he had shared the good news with his father earlier that day before he’d told anyone else. Jenny had never felt more proud of her son in her life; she knew how much that would have meant to her Cain. Being the first to know anything was unusual, even with his mobile phone!
‘He’s pleased as punch, Mum. A granddad, eh? And you’ll be a granny too.’
Jenny looked at her mum as she said slyly, ‘Just think, Mum, you will be a great-granny!’
Eileen retorted loudly with, ‘We will have to fucking see about that!’
As they laughed and joked together, Jenny looked up to see Caroline Moran standing near their table staring at them all, and her heart sank to her boots.
She was grotesque in size and her eyes, which had once been her best feature, fired hate.
‘Oh, for fuck’s sake, what do you want now?’ It was Eileen who started the conversation off. She hated that bitch, and wondered if she had some kind of supernatural power. The fucker seemed to have a way of turning up and ruining everything.
‘So he’s going to be a granddad, is he?’
Cain Junior stood up and moved between the woman and his mother.
‘Why can’t you take yourself off to another part of the pub? This is a private
family
party.’
Caroline Moran laughed at that, and said nastily, ‘You are your father’s son all right – the spit of him – and you are like him in other ways too, I hear. I wouldn’t be surprised if your kid spent the best part of its life visiting you in a maximum-security and all. Like father, like son.’
Eileen stood up immediately, shouting, ‘Fuck off, you silly bitch! At least he ain’t a fucking nancy boy like your Michael. I hear he likes the blond boys – is that true? No grandchildren for you by the sounds of it.’
‘My boy ain’t queer.’
‘No, of course not – but all his friends are.’ Eileen was laughing at her own wit.
‘Sit down and shut up, Mum. And, as for you, Caroline, stop showing yourself up. It’s been fucking donkey’s years since he left you for me. It’s time you got over it.’
Caroline could see how well Jenny looked – how youthful her figure had remained, and how beautiful she was. She envisioned herself ramming a glass into that perfectly made-up face and twisting it for maximum effect. But Peter Lloyd was ready for her if she made a move like that, and so was that handsome bastard who, unlike her boy, was a man’s man. It was so unfair. This woman had stolen her life and yet she still came out of it smelling of fucking roses.
Peter Lloyd stood up and went over to Caroline. Taking her arm gently, he said in a placating voice, ‘Come on, love, let’s see you to your car, shall we?’
His tone instantly triggered something in her. ‘Get your fucking hands off me! I am meeting a friend here. Who are you to fucking tell me what I can and can’t fucking do?’
‘Leave her, Peter, let her do what she likes. You can’t hurt me any more, lady. Meet your friend, eat a fucking big dinner, I really don’t care. Just leave me and mine alone.’ With that, Jenny motioned for the men to sit and they resumed their conversation as if nothing had happened. But Jenny could see the fear in young Linda’s eyes and she hated Caroline Moran for spoiling what should have been a really great night.
Caroline felt humiliated once again as she turned away. Everyone in the pub was staring at her, and she knew her bulk was largely to blame.
Then Eileen shouted, ‘Here, can I rent your dress? I want to go camping in France. Sleep six, will it, you fat cunt?’
That’s when all hell broke loose.
Sally Lloyd and Jenny Moran were sitting in Eileen’s flat while the men sorted out the police. Linda was shaken up but relatively unharmed. The pub, on the other hand, had been destroyed. It was amazing how quickly Caroline Moran could move considering that she was nearly twenty-seven stone in weight.
Everyone was seeing the funny side now, as was often the case. Eileen walked in with a tray of tea, announcing loudly, ‘That poor man! When Caroline landed on him I thought she was going to fucking crush him to death. And did you see his wife’s face!’
They all laughed again at that.
‘It’s not that funny, Mum. You fucking caused the whole thing with that tent joke.’
‘Come on! Everyone in the pub laughed.’
Jenny grinned. ‘Well, they soon stopped when Ten Ton Tessie fucking launched herself at you!’
‘The weirdest thing for me was hearing her speak. She had the most beautiful speaking voice.’ Sally Lloyd had a deep throaty voice herself; and hated it. She never believed it when people told her it was sexy.
‘You’ve got to give her that – even her swearing sounds posh.’
That led to another raucous outburst.
‘There goes my door. I bet it’s the lads back from the police station.’
Instead, Jenny answered the door to find Michael Moran, her husband’s first-born son, standing there. You could tell instantly that he and Cain were related – there was nothing of his mother in him at all – and it was like looking at an older version of her own son. She looked him straight in the eye and said firmly, ‘We don’t want any trouble.’
He responded with a shrug. ‘I don’t want to cause trouble, I just came here to apologise for my mum.’
‘Well, that’s very good of you, Michael,’ Jenny answered warily. She couldn’t take her eyes off this man: her son’s brother and her husband’s first-born. What did he want? She hated to be suspicious but it seemed strange to her that he had come knocking after so many years of silence. Nevertheless, she led him into the living room to join the others.
‘How is she? Your mum, I mean.’
Eileen was wide-eyed, watching with a look of scorn, but she knew better than to say a word.
Sally Lloyd, however, was the epitome of diplomacy and said quickly, ‘Come on, you two, let’s make another pot of tea.’ With that she ushered them into the kitchen, closing the door behind them.
Michael Moran looked at the woman who had stolen his father away – she wasn’t the monster he had expected. In fact, she seemed very nice indeed.
‘Please sit down.’
As he took a seat on the sofa she noticed he had his father’s hands.
‘Is Caroline OK?’
Michael grimaced, ‘She’s in hospital. They keep a special eye on her you know, what with her drinking and her weight. I’m forever telling her to do something about it but she won’t listen.’
‘She is enormous, but surprisingly light on her feet considering.’
Michael smiled at that. ‘I know. The thing is she has been getting help for years with her mental health. She has episodes . . . at least that is how the psychiatrist describes them. She’s always been unstable apparently.’
Jenny didn’t know what to say; she just nodded. This was so surreal.
‘I just wanted you to know that if anything had happened to the girl having a baby I would never have forgiven my mum. I’m not making excuses for her, but she isn’t all the ticket at the moment. I felt you were owed an explanation.’
‘Can I get you a drink – a tea or something stronger?’
‘Scotch would be nice.’
Jenny made them both stiff whiskies. As she handed Michael his glass, he smiled at her and she was reminded of Cain again.
‘Mum drinks as well, and on her medication that makes her even more erratic. She can appear more or less normal for months, and then something sets her off and . . . Well, you can guess the rest.’
Jenny took a large gulp of whisky before saying, ‘To be honest, Michael, tonight wasn’t entirely her fault. My mother made an unfortunate remark about her weight.’
He nodded solemnly. ‘So I hear.’
Jenny Moran could not believe she was defending the woman who had caused her such heartache. But there was something about this boy that made her want to ease his burden. He seemed a genuinely nice guy.
He looked at her sadly, before taking a deep breath and saying quietly, ‘How is he?’
Jenny finished her drink and got up to refill both glasses. ‘He misses you, Michael, I know that much.’
He looked into her eyes. ‘I know. Every now and then I salvage one of the letters he sends me. But you know the score with my mum – if she thought I was anywhere near him she would lose the last ounce of sense she still possesses. For years I hated him, but as I got older . . .’
Jenny felt deep sorrow for this young man, left to cope on his own with that mad bitch. ‘It’s not too late, you know. He would be thrilled if you were to drop him a note.’
Michael laughed then, bitterly. ‘According to my mum he wouldn’t want to hear from a fucking poofta. Her words not mine.’
Jenny shook her head sadly. ‘That would bother him no more than it bothers me. He would be proud of you, knowing how well you have looked out for your mum. He’d just like to see you and know that you’re OK.’
Michael Moran raised an eyebrow inquisitively. ‘You seem pretty certain about that.’
She smiled. ‘That is because I am. He knows you’re gay, Michael. You can’t keep things like that secret for long. In his own way he has always kept an eye on you – through other people, of course. It’s what he is like.’
‘He knows?’
Jenny nodded again. ‘It’s not a secret, is it?’
He sighed heavily. ‘I suppose not.’
Just then the men could be heard returning from the police station. Jenny Moran was thrilled at the thought of finally introducing her son to his older brother. It had certainly been a strange night.
As the room filled with chatter, Eileen’s booming voice cut loudly across the group, ‘Truth is, Peter, Michael is as gay as a Mexican tablecloth.’
Cain Junior closed his eyes in dismay and was about to apologise to his older brother when Michael piped up, ‘At least I don’t look like a fucking drag queen!’
Everyone started laughing at that, and somehow the terrible night began to take a turn for the better.
Cain Moran couldn’t believe the news about his eldest son. After all these years it was impossible to think that Michael might actually be back in his life. Though it was something he had prayed for, he had never quite believed it would happen. It seemed that Caroline’s hate and venom had forced her son away from his father. Now she had brought them back together again with that same hatred. The world was certainly a strange place.
Cain didn’t care if his son was gay – that was Michael’s business. It wasn’t his place to express an opinion either way. All he wanted was for his son to be happy and if that meant being with another man then so be it. From what he could gather, it was Caroline who had the problem with it. She had convinced her son that his father would never accept him as gay, and that was something Cain would find hard to forgive. Cain may have done the dirty on her all those years ago but that should have been water under the bridge by now. Instead, Caroline had kept her hatred burning for all those years and it had affected Cain’s relationship with his own son. He would hold that against her for the rest of his life.
As he showered and got himself ready for the day he felt a lightness he had not experienced in years. He had both of his sons in his life – what more could a man ask for?
Michael Moran felt a deep sadness as he listened to his mother raving to the doctors and nurses as they tried to help her. Caroline was accusing them of trying to poison her, refusing to eat any food other than what her son brought in especially. She had been in hospital since the incident in the pub, and this was one of the worst of her episodes that he had witnessed. He hated to see her in such obvious distress. If she got wind of the fact that he’d gone behind her back and made contact with his father and extended family it certainly would have tipped her over the edge.
He didn’t regret it for one moment though. Things were working out surprisingly well now that he had taken that first step. Michael liked Jenny Moran. Her calmness was soothing, and there were no histrionics or mind games; what you saw was what you got. His brother, Cain Junior, was nice too – and his girlfriend Linda was a very sweet girl. Eileen was a scream and Michael had really taken to her. His only disappointment was his grandmother, Molly Moran. He had guessed rightly that she wasn’t well thought of by the rest of her family, though they were scrupulously polite to her in person. There had definitely been some kind of altercation at one point or another – he would lay money on it.
As he watched his mother cram food into her mouth, he leaned across and gently wiped her mouth. She seemed to think her son’s homosexuality was inherited from his father’s side of the family; she was forever pointing out there were no gays on her side. There were a number of mental illness cases, though, if what the doctors had told Michael was true. He sighed at the sadness of it all. If only she could take her tablets and stop drinking, her life could begin to take some sort of shape again. Some days she would be OK for a while and then it was like she went on a self-destructive bender – drinking all day, self-medicating, and eating a colossal amount. It was terrible to watch.
He wondered what it would be like to visit his father in Parkhurst. He was nervous and excited all at the same time at the thought of it. He only wished he had bitten the bullet and got in touch sooner. It felt good to be around people who didn’t need looking after, and who were cheerful. Eileen Riley could make a cat laugh; she was always so upbeat about everything. Even when she referred to Michael’s mother as ‘the nut-job’ he couldn’t take offence. She said it in such a funny way, you couldn’t help but laugh. He had also met her a few times at the club she thought she ran. It was a sight to see: Eileen Riley in enough make-up to sink a battleship, lording it over everyone and loving every second.
But it was his brother who Michael had really taken a shine to. Cain Junior had accepted him without a moment’s hesitation. He said he had always wanted to meet him and was thrilled that it had finally come about. They chatted about everything, discussing their lives and the different paths they had taken over the years. Michael had explained to Jenny that his mother’s condition – though not helped by his father’s desertion – had not been caused by it either. There was nothing she could do to stop it from happening to her; she was unstable, and there was a chemical imbalance in her brain. It was no one’s fault, but it was difficult to live with all the same. Jenny Moran told Michael she thought he was marvellous looking out for his mother as he did, and he had loved her for saying that.