Good Me Bad Me(81)
‘You can try,’ he says. ‘She’s going to make an effort for today.’
I take the tea up to her room, knock on the door, no response. I knock again, this time she says, come in. The room’s dark, a small amount of natural light creeping in from the window in the bathroom. The air is still. Dusty. She’s thinner in frame, doesn’t see Benji any more, doesn’t see anybody.
‘I made you some tea.’
She nods but doesn’t move from where she’s sat on the edge of the bed.
‘Shall I leave it here for you?’
She nods again, I place it on the dressing table, her eyes fill up with tears. Kindness when you’re wounded hurts more.
‘Sorry, I shouldn’t have disturbed you.’
She wipes the tears away, shakes her head.
‘The house is so quiet without her. Silly really, all I ever wanted was peace and now she’s gone all I want is her.’
I don’t say anything, not yet. I’ve been reading articles on the internet on what to do, how to help people when they’re grieving. Little things like hot food on the table, emptying the bins. Being visible but not intrusive, letting them talk if they want to.
‘I miss her, even the times she hated me. Don’t say she didn’t, we all know I’m not the best mother.’
Her fingers trace the edges of the name necklace. Gold. She smiles a little, a sad smile. A realization of sorts. She yanks hard on the chain, it breaks, dangles from her fingertips before dropping to the floor.
‘I never got it right with Phoebe, any of it.’
I sit next to her on the bed, take one of her hands in mine, tell her I think she did get it right, that she’s a good mum – I remind her of the crystal she bought me. She cries, leans her body against my shoulder. We sit like that for a while. I feel her tears soaking through the cotton of my T-shirt. I don’t like it but I stay, hoping these are the moments she and Mike will remember when decisions are made about where I might go.
‘I should shower,’ she says.
I nod and as I leave I remind her to drink the tea. When Mike sees me, he asks me how she is.
‘She’s getting up, she’s going to have a shower.’
‘Well done, you had better luck than me.’
‘I want to do anything I can to help.’
‘And you are, you’ve been keeping us going. If it was just me and Sas I’m not sure where we’d be.’
Tiny trumpets raised in salute, this time for me.
A couple of hours later a knock on my bedroom door. Saskia, doing her best. In her hands she carries a bag. Cosmetic.
‘I’d like to do your make-up, would that be okay?’
I nod, we sit down together on the bed, she talks as she sweeps. Powder and bronze. Each time her wrist passes near to my nose I’m hit with a scent so feminine extra blush arrives on my face. It’s hardly touch what she does to me now but it’s intimate. Eye contact this close, still uncomfortable for me.
‘Phoebe never let me do her make-up, said I didn’t do it right, am I doing yours right?’
I nod, and say, of course, you’re doing a great job, though I have no idea if it’s true.
‘You’re very beautiful, Milly, I don’t think you know that.’
She talks and talks, tells me Phoebe was a mistake, she’d had the flu and forgotten to take her contraceptive pill for a few days. A shock. A difficult baby, not easy to soothe.
I’m tempted to ask her about Benji – a secret when handled carefully can be useful – gives a person leverage. Gives me leverage if Saskia thinks we’re bonding, keeping each other’s secrets, but for once, she’s ahead of me.
‘I’d like us to spend more time together, Milly. Would you like that?’
‘Yes, very much, but I might be leaving soon.’
‘Mike and I have been talking, the house is already so empty.’
‘Does that mean I –’
‘What?’
‘It doesn’t matter, it’s just I really like it here with you guys.’
She nods and smiles a little, says, ‘Mike said you bought a dress, shall I help you into it?’
‘No, thank you.’
I ask her to get a camera, I’d like a photo of me and her if it’s okay.
My dress. Black, long-sleeved velvet, a skater-style skirt attached, puffs out a bit, lands on my knees. I wear tights and a pair of black heeled boots I bought with my allowance from Topshop similar to the ones I’ve seen the other girls wear. I wish I could finish the outfit with my gold name necklace but I know it’s the wrong thing to do so I put on the necklace Morgan bought me instead and the watch from Mike and Saskia, and I can’t help but feel loved.
She comes back with the camera, Mike at her side. She’s barefoot, childlike. More like a sister than a mother.
‘Stunning,’ Mike says.
He puts his arm round Saskia’s waist and even though she moves away from him, I know they will fuck tonight. A new beginning.
For my birthday meal we eat Chinese in the kitchen. Mike says I look too fancy for takeaway, the first joke I’ve heard him attempt since Phoebe’s death. Sorry we haven’t gone out for dinner, he said, but we can’t really face it at the moment.
There’s a fortune cookie for each of us but neither Mike nor Saskia want to open theirs. I save mine for later, to open alone when we’re finished. Mike says he got an email from Joe’s dad asking if Joe could see me some time. Saskia nods, says, he’s a nice boy, I’ve met him before.