The Playground (23 page)

Muchwood was the name of the house, but the ‘d' had fallen off years before.

‘Muchwoo,' I said to myself as I stood outside Belinda's with a bottle of white wine in a brown paper bag and a box of Green & Black's chocolate miniatures. I was regretting my choice of outfit; my legs were so restricted in my pencil skirt that I felt like a mermaid. And my heels were ridiculous, Ruth was right. One of these days I would just have to accept my height. I was small – five foot four in socks – and getting smaller.

They didn't have a doorbell; I knocked twice on the wood and waited.

‘Give me a second, Mia!' I heard Belinda shout internally.

‘Oh no, it's not Mia, it's Eve.' I called back to her. ‘Take your time!'

I waited a while longer, listening to various thumps, curses and bangs.

‘Ah, Eve, how's it going? I was just waiting on Mia,' Belinda said when she opened the door, kicking a sausage dog draught excluder out of the way and looking a little addled, I thought. She was wearing pink slippers, tracksuit bottoms and a white Nike T-shirt. She had a huge pile of sheets in her arms.

‘Sorry. It's bedlam in here. I'm trying to sort out Billy's washing
and Mia, Oscar's mam, was going to pick up some alterations; don't know where she's got to and Bad Hair Day's gone missing again, but come on in!' I didn't know any of the people/creatures she was talking about but I wiped my feet and followed her.

She kicked more things aside as she led me through the hall, turned on the lamp above the blanket chest, told me to watch out for this and that, apologised, cursed at Billy, shouted at him to come downstairs.

The kitchen smelt of cat pee. There was a mound of sheets and pillowcases on the table – the kind we had as children, pale brushed cotton, candy-striped – a rucksack that must have been Billy's, rotting bananas in a bowl, some sort of medicine from the Dargle pharmacy, and a bag of blue tinsel from the two Euro shop. A small black dog was licking the counter top beside the sink.

‘Jaysus, would you get out of it, Nigger,' Belinda said, grabbing him under the belly and flinging him onto the floor.

She saw my doubtful smile. ‘Don't ask. Billy comes up with the names. He wants all these flipping animals and then he gets bored of them after two days. Bad Hair Day, the guinea pig, is AWOL again. Nigger will probably get him, with any luck. Gives me the creeps to think of a furry thing scurrying round the house.' She shivered; I did too with empathy.

‘Sorry, now make some room for yourself there.' She gestured at the table. She lifted the wet washing away, leaving a huge circular ring on the wood.

‘Think I need to cut the grass; I just spent twenty minutes stabbing the clothes line around the garden trying to find the flipping hole. Didn't find it, of course.'

‘I love cutting the grass,' I said, just for something to say. ‘I like that it's a job with a proper start and finish.'

‘Well, don't let me stop you,' she said with her smoker's cackle. I noticed she was wearing blue eye-shadow. I'd never seen her wear make-up before; she would never bother for the library and she was such a tomboy that it looked quite odd, it almost gave her the appearance of a transvestite.

‘A takeaway OK for you? Indian all right?'

‘Perfect,' I said, hoping my relief wasn't too obvious.

‘You're very good bringing me wine.' She put the bottle in the fridge, then lifted a box beside it on the floor.

‘Look at these.' She held up some tan boots with tassels. ‘I love them, they make my legs look slender, make me feel a little bit sexy and make me taller. They looked fab with the dress I was wearing last night, so what's the problem? I can't walk in them at all. How do you do it?' she said looking at mine.

Billy thundered in. He was on his way out, looking smarter than I'd ever seen him before in a blue checked shirt, cream chinos and his hair gelled into place; ‘up hair' as Addie would say.

He stood above his mother. We were now in the sitting room where Belinda had kicked off her slippers and was leaning back in an armchair, balancing her glass of wine on its arm. It was a moss-green one which had one of those flip-out bits at the end for her feet. It looked like it was where she always sat.

Billy didn't say anything, just rubbed his thumb and forefinger together.

‘Manners!' she said, shoved her socked foot at his thigh and inclined her head towards me.

He turned around, grimaced.

‘How's it goin'?'

I smiled at him.

‘Moolah, Mama?'

She groaned. ‘My bag's in the hall.'

He reappeared, flouncing and mincing around with his mum's black leather bag on his arm and her scarf around his neck. ‘This it?'

‘Ah, Billy, would you cop on? You know that's it! How many bleedin' bags do you think I own? Give it here. OK, we said twenty, didn't we?'

‘Thanks, Ma. See you later.'

‘Eh, excuse me! Come back here, young man. Haven't you forgotten something?'

‘Ah, Jaysus, Ma.'

‘Come here to me.'

She offered her cheek for a kiss and wrapped her arms around him.

‘Good boy. You smell only gorgeous,' she said, pulling him closer, and then, ‘Do you have drink taken?'

‘Just a few cans, will you get off my case?'

‘Where are you off to, anyway?' she shouted after him.

‘Just out!' He slammed the front door.

She made a face at me. ‘What can you do?'

*

‘I'm starting to think I'm just bad for men. They seem to begin life with me extrovert, healthy, full of energy, but by the end they are washed-up, sickly introverts.' And then, once they've left me, they get back on their feet and land big jobs in Amsterdam, I thought but didn't say. ‘Do you think I'm an enabler? Am I making them that way?'

We were onto our second bottle of wine. The room was warm, I was cosy on the sofa, Belinda curled up in her armchair opposite me.

‘That's crazy. Why do women always blame themselves for these things?'

‘I'm just saying it's a bit of a coincidence. There seems to be a pattern. I remember when things were really bad between us, feeling almost envious of other separated mums – their bravery, their freedom.'

‘Before Derek left, I felt the same way.'

‘What do you think went wrong between you?'

‘One word. Billy.' She looked at her watch and felt around for the remote control – she didn't want to miss
The X Factor
. I told her I'd been following it too.

‘Really? I wanted to ask you something about Billy actually—'

‘Ah no, I don't really mean that about him,' she went on, as if she hadn't heard me. ‘Well, I do and I don't. We both adored him, still do, but he was an absolute terror when he was little and we were always arguing about the best way to deal with him. Derek was soft on him; I was strict. I mean it was me who was always apologising to other people. He used to bite other kids at creche. He'd be sitting on his own on the naughty seat, looking out the window, every evening when I went to collect him.'

‘There's nothing worse than collecting your child and feeling them shudder when you hug them because they've been crying all day – that's what Addie was like on Tuesday because I forgot to wave goodbye to her through the window.'

‘Ah the poor little lamb. What I dreaded most was when the teacher would say ‘Can I have a quick word?'. I kept my head down with Billy, just charged in and got him, charged out again, trying to avoid anyone's eye.'

I wanted to eat my vegetarian dumplings while they were still warm, but it looked too casual to eat while Belinda was opening up to me, so I ignored them until we'd analysed the situation from every
angle, at which stage they were greasy and cold. Then we opened the box of Green & Blacks, Belinda threw two more briquettes on the fire and we settled back to watch
The X Factor
. There was one contestant to go. The audience were on their feet screaming. Out came the dancers, on came the strobe lights, dry ice, special effects.

‘This is a tiny bit awkward, but I did want to have a chat with you about Billy.'

‘Go on,' she said, not looking at me, tugging at some loose stitching on the armchair.

‘You know the way he has a thing about fire?'

No response. Just a cold-eyed stare.

‘He's always messing with lighters and matches, isn't he?'

‘Just spit it out will you, for fuck's sake, Eve?'

‘Well, obviously I didn't see him in the act but I think, listen, Belinda, I
know
, it was Billy who set the tree house on fire. It wasn't a lantern or anything else, it was Billy. I mean I'm sure he was just messing, experimenting. He did it with one of the lighters he'd been picking up for me. Of course, I know he would never want to hurt anyone—'

‘So you have proof of this, do you, Eve?'

‘No, I just said I didn't, but it's clear it was him and I'm only even bringing it up because—'

‘Ah, would you lay off him, Eve. If it hadn't been for Billy, that lad would be a lot worse off. I'm proud of what he's done so I am.'

She was out of her seat, clearing the table.

‘You know he's been given a lot of grief around here and for once—'

‘Well, we're getting a lot of grief right now,' I said, standing up to help her; she gestured with her hand for me to sit back down.

‘Addie doesn't understand why none of the kids in the park want
to play with her any more and I'm being ignored by pretty much everyone aside from the youth worker who seems to be observing us very closely.'

She had stacked everything and carried it into the kitchen where she was now rinsing plates with her back to me. ‘Well, you were pretty distracted that evening, weren't you?' she shouted in to me. ‘And you left those lighters hanging around, didn't you? And you did promise Sophie you'd mind Ben.'

‘Jesus, Belinda, that may all be true, but I didn't start any fire.'

‘That couldn't be him back yet,' Belinda said, turning off the running tap and standing still to listen. I hadn't heard the front door. She passed through the sitting room and went out to the hall. There was some sort of problem, she sounded upset.

Billy was green, eyes closed, leaning back against the wall, a vomit ring around his neck and all down the front of his new shirt. Belinda was apologising to the Indian taxi driver who had just delivered him home.

‘Thank you, ma'am, I understand, but that will still be twenty Euro for the fare please, and one hundred twenty for soiling my car.'

‘Are you listening to what I'm saying? I haven't got it. All right?' Belinda said, scowling at Billy.

‘I cannot work now for three days because of your boy.'

I rooted in my pockets behind her, offered the driver a fifty.

‘Stay out of it, Eve. I'll look after this. Will you settle for sixty? Please?'

He accepted Belinda's offer and said, ‘That's the very last time.'

Belinda stood in front of Billy, who had now moved to the sofa in the sitting room. He was holding his head between his hands and looked like he might vomit again.

‘I think I should maybe head.' Both of them ignored me.

‘Would you look at the state of you?! You stink. Get out of my sight, will you?'

‘Leave me alone, Mam. I'm not in the mood.'

‘
You're
not in the mood—' She paused. ‘What happened tonight?'

‘You mean what was
meant
to happen? What was meant to happen was a date.'

‘And?'

‘And she didn't fuckin' turn up, the bitch. She forgot or something, who knows, who cares? She doesn't give me the time of day any more.'

‘Who are we talking about?'

‘Just a girl, Ma. You don't know her.' He ran his foot along the carpet, against the grain. Then he flung himself backwards on the sofa and started kicking at his rucksack on the floor in front of him. I could see he'd stuffed some flowers inside. They looked like tulips.

‘She can fuck off, so she can. All she cares about is that floppy-haired dick, and he's fucking every girl in Bray. What's an emo freak doing with a poshie like her anyway? He doesn't give a toss about her.' He must have been talking about Juliette. Little did he know that she could never have met him, had no intention of it; she'd been at my flat all evening, babysitting. This explained why he'd gone off the rails outside our house that night. He must have seen Dylan with that other girl in the park.

He lurched forward, grabbed his rucksack.

‘I even brought her these,' he said, pulling out the limp flowers. ‘I was sat in the playground waiting for her for two and a half hours. She told me to meet her there at eight. I had a blanket and the crisps she likes and cans and everything.'

‘You know, I remember following this guy all around the city,' Belinda said, sitting down beside him, her voice softer. ‘I would sit
on the ground outside pubs in the cold all evening waiting for him – I was underage so the doormen wouldn't let me in – and he'd be inside drinking and snogging and—'

‘Snogging?' Billy said, laughing at the phrase, ‘Jesus, Mam.'

‘Well, that's what he was doing. Flirting with other girls and snogging them while I was outside asking the doormen to pass messages to him. And I'd stay there till closing time, till I knew I would see him.'

‘That's so gay.'

I felt something move underneath me. I leapt off the sofa screaming.

‘Ah, Bad Hair Day, it's yourself,' Billy said, lifting the guinea pig. It was easy to see how he got his moniker. He wasn't the smooth sort you normally get. This one looked like he'd been blasted by a hair dryer, with his brown static fur in all directions. Billy turned him around in his hand to inspect him for damage, then kissed him on the nose.