The Stepmother(43)
‘Knows what?’ I shook my head. ‘Don’t get it.’
‘Everything. They know everything – and they’ve said so. And last night – there were dead birds outside. Only when I told Matthew this morning, they were gone.’
‘Dead birds?’ I felt myself frown. ‘What do you mean?’
‘There was a mother and a chick laid out, like someone had – I don’t know. Made some kind of picture. I saw it, I know I did – but then it was gone.’
I saw her eyes fill with tears and I thought, Oh shit, please don’t cry, Jean. I’m not good with tears; never have been. Make me feel – kind of angry inside.
Helpless, the shrink said. They make you feel impotent, Marlena, so you get angry.
‘Sorry,’ Jeanie said, wiping them on the back of her hand. She knows me so well, my big sis.
Frankly I was a bit worried by all this, but I wasn’t sure how to play it.
‘So let me get this straight.’ I fiddled with the wooden stirrer thing, desperate for a fag. ‘You still haven’t told Matthew everything?’
‘Most of it, I have. And I’m going to – I was going to the other night – but then his son got rushed into hospital and…’
‘Shit.’
‘He’s okay – he’s fine now. But someone wrote to me, Mar. They sent me a card.’
‘What kind of card?’
My phone buzzed. It was a text from Ravi:
Twenty minutes!!! Outside Central Mosque.
‘Oh God, Jean, I’m really sorry, but I’m going to have to go in a sec – I can’t miss this bloke, it’s pretty f*cking crucial…’
I felt bad – but this might be life and death.
‘No worries.’ Jeanie gave a bright smile. ‘I probably am just imagining things. It’s been a big change, I suppose. Just need to get used to things. The house and things – it’s so big, it’s kind of – weird.’
Why did she say that? No worries. Why didn’t she just say, Stay the f*ck here and listen to me?
‘I will come up soon, I promise,’ I said. ‘To stay in your nice big house. In a weekend or two. Tell him everything. Then it’ll all be okay. And enjoy the house! I would.’
‘Yes, I will try. I’m sure you’re right.’
‘I’m always right, aren’t I, Jean?’ I pulled a silly face as I picked my coffee up. ‘How’s Frank? Tell him to come and see me.’
* * *
I’m always right?
Jesus wept, Marlena. You f*cking stupid cow.
Twenty-Seven
Jeanie
28 February 2015
I feel a bit better now! It was good to see Marlena, even if it was brief – and Matthew was all normal when he got home. He ordered us a Thai curry for supper and told me about King’s Lynn and the mad cousins. And I slept much better last night.
* * *
Frankie brings Jenna home for lunch. A curvy little brunette with a big smile and gappy teeth, I warm to her immediately. He was an early starter, my lovely Frank, always keen on the girls – and that’s fine with me. I don’t really get all that jealous mother stuff. It’s beyond me.
As long as they are kind. I just want Frank to be happy.
That’s all I want really.
But I don’t think Matthew appreciated Jenna’s rather left-wing politics. He’s far more traditional than I first realised, and I’ve not told him yet about my misspent youth selling the Socialist Worker.
I’m starting to see it’s best not to argue too much. The vein on his forehead stood out alarmingly last week when Frankie said he was a Marxist at heart.
‘A communist?’ Matthew spluttered. ‘Well you won’t want your subscription to the Grand Prix mag then, will you?’ That had been Matthew’s idea of the perfect Christmas present for Frank and not really up Frank’s street at all – but I’d wanted Matt to feel that he was contributing emotionally as well as materially, so I’d demurred.
Matthew reacts very quickly to Frank and doesn’t seem to get his humour. It’s starting to occur to me that my husband and my son are clashing; tension’s growing by the minute.