Bloody Mary (35 page)

The glass in her hand was swiftly filled with the other hand, which trembled ever so slightly, and she knocked the expensive treat back as if it were lemonade. “You’re as bad as Darren! Why is everybody so desperate to get rid of me?” Another rich man’s soda was drained, and once more she refilled the glass, four pairs of eyes at the table surveying the scene with shock.

Harry’s tiredness resurfaced, and I could see the past year was draining him of the final tendrils of youth. “Sweetheart, you can’t compare me to Darren, I do nothing but care for…”

“I can compare you to him! He threw me out. You’re throwing me out. Simple comparison.” The bottle was empty now, the second grabbed forcefully.

“Darren was a violent bully, Sophie, I’ve never hit anyone in my life.” Harry’s temper, full of frustration at her mood swings, was beginning to fray, Steve had left the room for a cigarette, and Alan stared at his empty plate, wishing he’d not bothered to cancel his other arrangements.

“No, you never hit Mum, you never hit us, but it didn’t take you bloody long to move on to the next woman in as soon as she bloody died, did it?”

The words slapped him hard, he stood and walked away, away from the table, away from the room, away from the house. He needed some time. My only concern was my plan: was Sophie’s unexpected reaction going to ruin everything at the eleventh hour? I quietly moved my chair back and strolled to the cooker, switching the dials off, the get-together irretrievably ruined, and glanced back at Sophie, now seated, head in hands, rocking gently. I laid a gentle hand on her shoulder. “Here, let’s take this bottle and the glass up to bed with you. Have a good drink tonight, sleep it off, and we’ll go out for lunch tomorrow and talk about things. It must have been a shock, we shouldn’t have sprung it on you like that.” I eased Sophie from the chair, arm firmly about her shoulders, and grasped the bottle, her sleep inducing liquor, guiding her up the steps to her room.

When I returned downstairs minutes later, Alan and Steve had both fixed themselves a welcome drink from Harry’s cupboard, and all eyes were shifty, glancing at each other and darting away, no-one wanting to be the one to break the silence. Eventually the braver Alan had to. “What now?”

I sat heavily in the armchair, welcoming the sherry proffered by Steve. “She’ll be fine.”

“But what about…”

She silenced Alan with a glare, hand waving, annoyed. “Not in here! That’ll be fine too. Everything’s booked, it’ll go ahead as planned. Not another word on the matter.”

It seemed such along time since Sophie and I had sat together in the small café in the back streets of Derby centre, and this time the situation, and the emotions of both of us, had completely changed: it was now a pleasant arrangement. I had asked Harry to mind Jaimee so Sophie and I could concentrate fully on the matter in hand, and I’d worked half the night mulling over my recently unused manipulation skills. Apart from the proprietor, all the staff had moved on and been replaced with seemingly younger youths, all greasy hair to match the food, and spots to match the stains. A young girl took our orders, and, bemused by her childish features wondered exactly how long she must have been out of nappies. Presently a healthy tuna salad for both, and large mugs of tea, arrived.

Sophie could remember her behaviour from the previous night, and was suitably quiet, fiddling with her fingers and keeping her eyes fixed on the melamine table top. I reached across with a tender hand to reassure her, enough to bring on the torrid apology. “I didn’t mean to, I was just shocked. I hate it that I was so unpleasant, that I ruined the evening, that my brothers probably don’t ever want to talk to me again.” Finally her eyes met mine. “I’ve been so confused. Mum dying, Darren going, having the baby, everything has been getting on top of me, and I know I have to sort things out. But I’m not sure I’m strong enough to go it alone yet.”

I took both her hands, gently stroking the backs as only a mother can. “You’re stronger than you think, Sophie, I know you have it in you. We’ll still help with Jaimee, there’s no question of that, but being in the house you grew up in isn’t going to help you in the long run. Look, between us all we’ve furnished and decorated, it’s ready to move into, except Jaimee’s equipment, and the boys will bring that across for you. Why don’t you just come and see it? It’s not the tatty place you remember, it’s beautiful now. And I can come and stay for a while, make sure you settle in okay, give you space to look for a job, or sort out benefits…”

“No! If I’m bringing up my child, I’m not accepting handouts. I’ll get a job.”

“Then that’s what we’ll do, and I’ll make sure Steve and Alan check on you all the time, get their backsides into gear now they’re uncles!”

For the first time in what seemed like weeks, Sophie’s laugh was genuine, and she tucked into the salad with gusto, her decision made, her new life about to start. I relaxed my shoulders gratefully, the matriarch of the table, the solver. The cuckoo in the nest.

Later, the household quiet, the only sound the peaceful, regular deep breathing emanating from the sleeping members in the bedrooms, I crept from my soon-to-be marital bed, tiptoeing from the room, silently down the stairs, and to the bureau in the living room. I retrieved the intercepted letter I’d taken from the postman, and withdrew a writing pad and pen. My words already planned, I wrote hastily, not willing to be intercepted in my deceit myself.

‘Dear Carlos, thank you for your letter, I’m sorry not to have replied before. I was shocked that you haven’t had my copy of the divorce agreement as I sent it three weeks ago. If you would be so good as to provide me with a new form, I will deal with the matter as soon as I receive it. Please assure your client that I will re-send the document with immediate effect. Many thanks for your patience, Sophie Delaney.’

I sealed the lies into the envelope, and hastily re-hid it at the back of the bureau. A quick trip to the post office in the morning would ensure it was out of harm’s way.

Between the five of us it had only taken two days to bring Sophie and Jaimee’s belongings across Derby to the small home. Although the block of flats was run down, the inside of number thirteen on the fourth floor was now a mini palace, tastefully created with minimal furniture and the effect of space. The new carpet had been fitted by the housing association, not the best quality, but somewhere clean for Jaimee to roll about on now she was making her tentative first attempts at moving about. They’d also supplied new kitchen cabinets, a cheap yet tasteful array of teak effect, basic units with a stainless steel sink, and I had filled the gaps with white goods purchased from a British Heart Foundation charity shop, each item well kept and cleaned to gleaning.

The bedroom, laminate flooring lovingly fitted by Steve, contained all the baby equipment, and enough pine furniture to house all their clothing, and I had found curtains for the two rooms in a separate second hand store, washing them back to new. Harry’s spare television and an economy DVD player sat in the living room in front of the sofa purchased through the classified adverts found in the local newspaper.

Sophie, her initial tirade long forgotten, loved the work they had provided for her, she was not only grateful, but strangely excited. The past few days had seen her applying for a number of positions in the many legal offices in the area, and some quick research had supplied a list of childminders and nurseries nearby. Sophie knew she’d built herself from scratch once, and with some strength and determination, could do it again. Life seemed good.

After the many stresses of moving home, Sophie wasn’t willing to use her new kitchen, and we decided that Harry would collect fish and chips from the take-away on the corner, highly recommended by me, for whom such a meal would once have been a treat in my penny-less days. We spread the papers containing the greasy food on our laps, Steve and Alan lounging on the floor, and switched the television on to watch the Saturday night programs together, now that Jaimee was asleep in her new, shared, bedroom for the night.

Although my subsequent marriage after my affair with Harry had been started in the same apartment block, a two bedroom flat just large enough to house me, my husband, and our three sons, downsizing against our will when the boys left home to this one bedroom place, I couldn’t remember having heard such laughter in either abode as I had on this fun-filled evening. Everyone was in good spirits, jokes and witticisms splashed at any opportunity, and it felt as if the past eventful year was now firmly behind us. Except for two pieces of unfinished business. The divorce. And the man who was making it impossible.

As the hours ticked away, Sophie’s brothers ebbed away, back to their own lives, and finally Harry decided that he, too, needed some sleep after the rigmarole of the day. He kissed me on the cheek at the door. “How long do you think you’ll stay with her for, I mean, it’s not ideal, you sleeping on the sofa.”

I laughed, removing the glasses I now only occasionally wore, Harry’s pension affording me the luxury of contact lenses, to wipe away the tiredness in my eyes. “I’ve slept in far worse places, trust me! I’ll just stay until I’m sure she’s settled, a few days, maybe a week or so. We’ll be under each others feet in no time anyway, she won’t be able to get rid of me fast enough!”

I let four days pass for Sophie to settle in to my old flat, or apartment as she like to refer to it, before packing a suitcase to bring with me for my week away. Her face was drawn after a few days of having Jaimee alone, but she did seem to be coping better, and was currently cuddling her baby with a bottle of warmed formula milk in the living room. As I glanced around, ensuring we both had hot mugs of tea, I noticed she’d changed the order of the contents of the kitchen cupboards, unpacked almost everything, and kept the place sprucely clean. I was looking forward to having the time away after the tension of the past few months. And I was more excited about the trip I had planned.

We spent a couple of days chatting, enjoying the brand new sight of Jaimee rolling about on the floor, gurgling and chuckling, her angelic face, with huge blue eyes surrounded by long dark lashes, her wayward curls mirroring her mothers. She was a delight, and now the first, hardest months of her life were behind them, her routines firmly fixed, Sophie was adoring motherhood.

But now the day had come for my little interlude, and I sat, a mix of fear, anticipation, and adrenaline running through my veins. I checked my watch for the hundredth time, and it was as if hours passed, but in reality it was minutes, while Sophie tried to settle Jaimee into the cot. Finally she brought the sobbing baby back into the room. “She won’t settle, I’m going to give her some of that baby rice I bought, see if that fills her up enough to take a nap.”

“Ahah!” I peered over the rim of my glasses, my expression deliberately sardonic. “I see, you’ve finally reached the solids stage. You’re going to love her nappies from now on!”

She planted Jaimee on the carpet, and trotted into the kitchen, mastering several actions at the same time to prepare Jaimee’s first grown-up meal. “It’s like that, is it! Well, it’s got to be done.” With my daughter busying herself, out of sight, I swiftly laid the un-started book I’d been pretending to read on the sofa

I took my suitcase and lifted the lid, reaching in to bring out a smaller bag I had placed inside, and rummaged through the contents for a final check that I had packed everything I needed. It contained a small number of travel sized cosmetics, and enough clothes for a single night away. I zipped it up, and threw it back before closing the suitcase. Sitting back on the sofa, I grabbed the tea from the occasional table, and picked up the book, awaiting Sophie’s return.

It didn’t take long, she returned clutching the new experience she was preparing for her child, and a plastic spoon. Seconds later Jaimee was strapped into the bouncer, ready to try the bland mixture. Checking my watch, the time had nearly come, and I began to make my excuses. “Sophie.”

Sophie had her back turned towards me, absorbed in feeding her child. “Mmmmm?”

“Look, I’ve been here for four nights now, and I thought it was about time to see if you could manage alone for another night, so I’ve decided to go back home to your dad tonight.” The slight tremble in her voice went unnoticed.

Immediately Sophie stopped what she was doing, spinning to face me, her chestnut eyes wide. “What! I thought you said you were going to be here a week?”.

I jumped in quickly. “It’s okay, you’ll be fine, and I’ll be back tomorrow to stay another few nights, I just want to see how you cope, this is a good idea, really it is. I’ll tell you what, finish feeding her, she won’t eat much on her first attempt, and you can try settling her again. Your dad will be picking me up in five minutes or so.”

The petulance returned to Sophie’s face, she clearly wasn’t happy, and with an exaggerated shrug of her shoulders, she turned back to Jaimee and threw a spoonful of the gloopy meal into her mouth. “You could have told me before now!”

I could see her sulk had set in, so further words would go unheard, so I returned to the book, the words a jumble on the page with my enthusiasm to get on with the night. Finally she snatched the baby from the chair, wiping her mucky face with a bib. “I’m putting her to bed.”

With no hesitation once Sophie had left the room, I swept to the window, searching for the car I was expecting. Moments later it arrived, and my heart began to thump wildly in my chest. Tonight was the night.

I grabbed the small bag from inside the suitcase, my shoulder bag from the sofa, and briskly reached the front door, before I called out, not wanting to be stopped now. “See you tomorrow.” I hoped the trepidation that overwhelmed me hadn’t registered in my voice.

Seconds later, when Sophie reached the hallway after hearing the door click shut, I was gone, leaving Sophie dumfounded. Eventually Jaimee’s whimper brought her back to her senses, motherhood, and the responsibility that was now firmly on her shoulders, and she returned to soothe her.