Page 11 of Forgive Me Not
She went to the patio doors at the back of the dining room and looked for Andrea. She dashed along to the shop, but Bligh had disappeared as well. When she got back, Gail had her winter coat half on. Emma tried to get it off, but Gail glared and pulled away. Emma considered shouting for help, but she didn’t want to upset her mum.
‘Okay,’ she said reluctantly. Perhaps the fresh air would do them both good. She found a pad of paper in the kitchen and penned a note. She wrote down her mobile number, where they were going and at what time, and really hoped that would be enough.
She gazed at Gail for a moment, mourning the loss of her mum, her friend, the vegetarian, the needlework whizz, the animal carer. Gail had meant so many things to so many people. The dementia had reduced her to a singular being.
She managed to persuade Gail to wear her light summer jacket. There were some old Post-it notes screwed up in the pocket saying things likeTake tablets at ten. When had she stopped writing them?
They walked along the dusty drive. Emma turned around, hoping to see Andrea or Bligh, but the farm looked deserted. They turned right and went down Broadgrass Hill. Emma pointed out colourful flowers. Gail stopped to pet a cat. When she stood up, her hand rested on Emma’s. They ended up linking arms for the rest of their journey. Emma’s chest felt lighter. Perhaps just a small part of Mum was in there somewhere.
They passed the butcher’s. Emma didn’t like to look in. Across the road, outside the supermarket, she spotted the homeless woman again, drinking out of a can. Familiar faces passed, smiling at Gail, not sure how to react to Emma. She looked at her mobile phone several times, to see if Andrea or Bligh had left a message. It was great that they’d let her spend time with Mum – she didn’t want this walk to ruin it.
By the time they reached the Badger Inn, it had just turned midday.
‘How about a lovely toasted sandwich in the teashop by the church?’ said Emma brightly.
‘Fish and chips,’ said Gail.
A woman with a baby in a pram walked past. All Emma could hear for those seconds was the gurgle as the child woke up. When she focused again, Gail was already through the pub door. Emma closed her eyes for a second. This couldn’t be happening. But it was. There was no going back now. This was the encounter she’d dreaded for months, meeting Polly and Alan. Pulse racing, she followed her mum in.
They were the first customers. Emma never used to like this pub much, with its old-school feel – the ping-pong table in the corner, not far from the darts board. She’d found the mahogany beams and magnolia walls unglamorous and wished for piped dance music instead of the jukebox. Yet now she gazed around and appreciated its charm. Like the small alcove in the corner, and the collection of badger ornaments on shelves along the tops of the walls.
Polly waved at Gail, and Emma took a sharp intake of breath. She noted the black shadows under the landlady’s eyes, and how she had lost her curves. She still wore the boldest shades in make-up and clothes, as if she’d only ever discovered primary colours. She turned to Emma. ‘So, the rumours were true. I meant to ring Andrea to find out if she was okay.’ Polly crossed her arms, creasing the fifties-style swing dress. ‘Alan!’
A distinguished-looking man with greying sideburns appeared around the side of the bar. His conservative clothes made him look like the black-and-white negative of Polly’s bright lovebird outfit.
‘Hello, Gail,’ he said pleasantly. His gaze fell on Emma. ‘You’ve got some nerve.’
Emma’s knees felt unsteady as she thought back to rehab and what a friend there who’d visited Healdbury had revealed about Alan and Polly. It had caused her sleepless nights ever since.
‘I… Gail insisted. We just want a quiet drink. Plus fish and chips for two. Please.’
Polly came around the bar, smiled at Gail and led her gently over to a table in the corner. She passed her a beer mat to play with. Then she whispered something in Alan’s ear. He squeezed her shoulder before she headed out the back.
‘You want adrink?’ he said.
‘Two… two Cokes, I mean,’ she said, voice shaking a little. ‘I don’t—’
‘Have you forgotten that you’re barred?’
Emma walked up to him. ‘No, I haven’t, but look, Alan, I don’t want a fuss. I’m really sorry… for everything.’
He snorted. ‘I bet you can’t remember half of the things you did – especially during the week before that last Christmas. How angry your actions made our customers. How it upset Bligh.’
‘I can’t undo the past, but—’
‘Agreed,’ said Alan. ‘So bugger off.’
‘But I can’t leave Mum here on her own.’
Alan folded his arms. ‘She’ll be safer with us.’ He proceeded to list Emma’s many misadventures from the past – how she broke the toilet, threw up against the wall; how she hit on customers and once tried to do a striptease on a table. Like a pupil sent to the head teacher’s office, she stood, ears burning, wishing some magical spaceship could beam her and Mum up and teleport them to somewhere more friendly.
The door creaked open behind her. Emma swung around to see Andrea and Bligh.
‘What the hell are you up to?’ said Andrea, face perspiring, sleeves rolled up.
‘I just brought Mum out for lunch.’
‘What was I supposed to think, coming into an empty house? I was frantic until Polly rang.’ Andrea hurried over to Gail, scanning her as if she expected her to have come to harm.
