Page 70 of Great Sexpectations
‘Not from you,’ I say, anger in my tones. ‘And if you want to know the real truth, the reason he went off with her is that he couldn’t stand what I did. He didn’t want to be married into it, to expose his future children to it. He made me feel ashamed about who we were…’ The tears flow at that very moment. It feels good to say it out loud, to not have it pent up anymore, but I don’t think I can take the hurt etched in everyone’s faces.
‘I’ll kill him. He took all that money and said that to you?’ says Nan, the fumes literally making her hands shake.
‘He wrote it in a note.’
‘Oh, Josie,’ Mum cries.
Dad sits there, silently.
‘So forgive me if I need to tell some white lies to cover up everything. I know I’ve lost control and the whole situation is a farce, but I’m scared now. I’m scared because I think I’m falling for him and if I tell him everything and he leaves, then it will break me all over again…’
Dad starts crying. He does this. He does it watching wedding scenes in films or charity commercials about sad donkeys. I feel awful sharing this with them, but the alcohol has made it flow so easily.
‘Oh, Josie… You never told us. Why?’ Mum asks, patting her cheeks with the end of her sleeve.
‘Because… Because…’ I whisper.
‘She blamed you for it,’ Nan mutters, filling in my words. ‘If she was just a normal girl, if you were both accountants and she was an accountant too, then maybe Mike would still be here, am I right?’ She says it softly, gripping on to my hand. It is an awful thing to say, this horrible dichotomy of emotion to feel, but she is right. Even though I ran back to my parents, back to the safety of our home and family, a part of me always wondered how things would have been different had I been a part of a different family.
‘Nan’s right,’ I whisper. ‘Because for one small moment, I thought why does my future have to be about this? About something both of you started that I got dragged into. How is this my life?’
Mum can’t bear to hear any more and stands up and leaves the room, sobbing. This makes me sob, which makes Dad sob, which confuses Dave the dog more than anything. It’s only Nan who quietly takes in all of the drama.
‘Susie,’ Dad intones, his hand missing Mum’s back as she runs out of the room. He turns to look at me. ‘That was cruel. You’re not cruel, Josie,’ he says, standing up.
This makes my bottom lip quiver, and I can’t make out anything through my tears.
‘Make up your mind about who you want to be. I am not ashamed of who I am, who I was, because it’s brought me here, it gave me you. Mike was a cretin. He never knew your worth and I would give him double what he stole from you to stay away from you for life.’
‘But I loved him…’
‘Then you’re a fool.’
My eyes widen at the insult.
‘Johnny… Leave it be,’ Nan exclaims.
‘No, we’ve played your game. Now you’re telling us we played along because you don’t like who you are, you don’t like us, that we forced you here?’
‘Well, maybe I played along the whole time. All these years. Maybe I’m done pretending like this is normal, like this is how people live…’
‘You two are going to say something you regret in a bit. Shut it,’ Nan barks at us.
‘This isn’t you,’ Dad mumbles.
‘Then who am I?’ I ask him.
‘I don’t know anymore, Josie. But you’re not this person, that much I know.’
FIFTEEN
If you eat my fudge, I’ll shank you.
New Year’s Eve. What a time to be alive, going into the new year sitting in my nan’s flat in Wandsworth, on my own, reading her threatening notes about what she’ll do if I eat her fudge. Nan has lived in the same flat since she raised Dad. It’s one of those original art deco buildings with a colourful courtyard and a set of neighbours that Nan is on first name basis with who possibly deal drugs out of one of the stairwells. But Nan likes her comforts, the fact it’s near the Tube, the fact it reminds her of where she’s come from. She also says she doesn’t want anything bigger to clean as the dusting would be a bastard.
It’s been a week since Christmas. After the fight with my parents, Nan told me to pack a bag and come and stay with her for a while. She said she needed the company, that she didn’t want to be alone in the festive period, but I knew what she was doing. Harsh things were said and we all needed some space to clear the air. We’re not stupid, though, we also packed leftovers and stole quite a lot of cheese to take with us. She let me sit here for a while and wallow, to lie in her dusky rose bathtub and soak away my troubles, to eat her biscuits, all of them.
That said, it’s now New Year’s Eve and Nan has abandoned me to go on a two-day coach trip to the coast with her bingo mates. She’s spending tonight in a hotel with a three-course meal, bingo and a Tom Jones impersonator. Whereas I will be here, in my best hoodie, with a bottle of rosé, staring at her many many duck ornaments.
