Page 25 of A Good Mother
It was Tom’s tried and trusted way of delivering unsavoury news to their parents when he was growing up. It was his special formula, disguising bad stuff in between something good.
‘I got a Saturday job at the dairy, which will easily pay for the dent I made in Mum’s bumper, and my mate said he’d fix it on the cheap.’
‘Well, it’s Mum I’m ringing about actually. Mad Bridie keeps asking me if I’m okay for money and if I need some, all I have to do is ask. I think she’s stressing because we’ve had to close the bar and thinks we’ll starve to death, but I told her we’re okay. So how much did she win? Because she’s acting like she’s loaded.’
Babs smiled, knowing that her mum just wanted to look after her youngest chick even if he was over a thousand miles away. ‘I have no idea but I’m letting her enjoy keeping us guessing until it runs out. She’s obviously not that flush because she only gave the kids twenty quid and Pete got nothing, unlike Cris. My husband is the spawn of the devil as far as she’s concerned.’
It was true, and Babs didn’t begrudge Cris the £10 Amazon voucher her mum had sent him because he was a lovely guy and her whole family adored him. Well, perhaps not Pete who didn’t go for all that man-love and hugging, and quite frankly the only people he adored were his annoying friends from work, oh, and himself.
‘Are you really okay, though? Not just putting on a brave face for me and Mum? Closing the bar and café must have been a blow, especially so close to the holiday season.’
Babs was so proud of Tom whose beachfront eatery was really popular. He’d built himself a whole new life when he and Cris ran off to Spain. Well away from that nasty old bigot, Edmund.
‘Yes, I swear, so stop worrying. Me and Cris are using the opportunity to revamp the interior and exterior, even the menu. When we do reopen, I want you to come over again as soon as you can and tell me what you think. You’re my biggest critic but I respect your opinions, you know that.’
Babs’ heart lifted immediately, imagining another long weekend with her brother and Cris. She made the trip once a year with Demi and Sasha, last time just Demi. It was such an adventure, jetting off from Manchester Airport, having a cheeky drink in the lounge and another cheekier one on the plane but it was always over too soon.
Pete didn’t want to go and moaned about the cost and her missing work, so she’d fibbed and said Bridie gave her the money.
She adored Alicante, La Almadraba Beach, the bars and shops, the bustle of tourists looking for a great time – the time she’d imagined before her dream of working abroad was shattered. Babs loved to sit in Tom’s place, watching the diners and soaking up the atmosphere and was so proud of her little brother. It always went too quickly though, her time with him.
‘Of course I’ll come over, in fact, I’m going to put the money Mum gave me aside for the flight; then it’ll give me something to look forward to.’ Babs could make do with the clothes she had. Seeing Tom was more important.
‘And while I’m on, Cris is really worried about his mum, you know, being stuck in that creepy vicarage all day long with Satan’s disciple.’ This was Tom’s name for Edmund. The man who’d said vile things to Cris and, by proxy, about Tom and the gay community in general.
‘I know, poor love. I can give her a ring if you want, check in and have a natter. See how Willow is doing, too. The poor lamb has some good days and that always lifts Robin’s spirits, gives her hope I think.’
Babs’ heart broke for the young woman who she’d watched grow, served through the hatch at the school canteen and as she didn’t pray, she wished hard that one day Willow would get better.
‘Would you? That would be great. Cris Facetimed her last night and said he could hear the strain in her voice, and she looked tired, too. Then when he spoke to Willow she barely reacted, and it’s really got to him. I know it’s the drugs and her state of mind but being so far away makes her feel even more unreachable and he can’t even help Robin with her care.’
Babs sighed, remembering with a heavy heart ‘the trouble’, when Tom and Cris’s affair had been discovered. After trying his darndest to split them up, shame them, revile them and talk Cris into some freaky conversion therapy, Edmund snapped. He threw his son out and banned him from the house. Ever since, contact between Cris and Robin had been virtually. They had been so close, Cris and his mum, and what Edmund did was downright cruel. Man of God, pah!
‘I’ll give her a ring and ask her to meet me at the churchyard wall one evening. I can take my walk in that direction, and we can have a natter. That’s not breaking any rules I don’t think, as long as we stay apart and that way she might open up about how she’s doing. What do you think?’
‘That would be ace, thanks, Babs. Robin tries to put a front on for Cris, but he knows her so well and could see through it last night. He’s got it into his head that she’s too isolated, now she’s turned her back on Edmund and is focused on Willow. And he wants to know if Nate is doing his bit, and not leaving it all to Robin, which I also suspect is the case.’
Babs knew only too well what was going on at the vicarage and how Edmund ruled the roost but didn’t comment and listened instead.
‘And now you can’t even go round there, and you’re probably one of the few true friends she’s got.’
Babs’ mind was made up. ‘Don’t worry, love, leave it with me. I have an idea how to get her talking and cheer her up at the same time.’
‘Cheers, Babs. I knew I could rely on you. Now, tell me what you lot have been up to, and what’s going on with Mum? You mentioned some photos.’
Tom sounded much chirpier, so Babs shuffled, wincing at the sound and feel of her skin as it pulled away from the car seat, like Sellotape. Once she was comfier she regaled her brother with details of Finch family life and the never-ending saga of the always empty fridge.
Later that evening, Babs was power-walking her way towards the village, Demi’s school rucksack on her back. Inside was a bottle of cold-ish white wine and two plastic picnic glasses. She’d taken the wine from the fridge and in its place left a Post-it note saying –Hi F, borrowed your wine. Will replace it ASAP. Needed it for an emergency. Love B x
It had amused Babs no end, as she left the house with her haul, knowing the hoo-hah that the missing wine would cause. But last week, someone had eaten her Friday night treat bag of Maltesers, so tough!
Glad to be away from home, Babs was looking forward to meeting Robin who, sounding thrilled when she’d rang earlier, had eagerly agreed to meet at the corner of the churchyard. Both of them were convinced they wouldn’t be breaking any rules.
They’d agreed on 7pm, by which time Nate would be home and Robin could relax a bit, knowing that he could keep an eye on Willow. It was such a sorry state of affairs, and it wasn’t as though she was under lock and key twenty-four-seven, but due to her unpredictable nature, her manic ups and terrible downs, Robin more than anyone had to be vigilant.
She’d really had so much to cope with, had poor Robin, and it still flummoxed Babs how behind closed vicarage doors a family could be so riddled with problems when to the outside world, they appeared to be so perfect. That’s what she’d always thought they were.
Lovely Robin who worked so hard in the community, the glue that held all the committees together let alone her private life. Lovely Willow who could be a little eccentric now and then but was kind and gentle. Shy sweet Crispin, who played the guitar and wanted to be a musician and was never any bother at all.
