If I Never Met You(84)
Laurie met them outside the building the following Saturday (after a week of seeing little of Jamie due to busy work schedules, but it turned out a sympathetic, knowing smile as you passed in the corridor could do much for a feeling of someone quietly being there for you), both looking splendidly eccentric in their own ways. Her mum still favoured her stage wear – over the knee suede boots, long dramatic coat, ensemble set off by a now-silvered close-cut afro. Wanda was about six foot, in crushed velvet smock, moonstone rings on every finger, thin white straggle of hair. Dan used to say she resembled Rick Wakeman.
‘I was worried you’d be too thin but you look well,’ Peggy said, after kissing her on each cheek. This was a compliment; her mum thought women should be ‘bountiful’, not ‘hungry’.
Wanda had been babysitter to Laurie throughout her early years, and fostered many children – her house effectively doubled as the local youth centre. She gathered Laurie in a crushing embrace that brought a Proustian rush of the sweet peppery perfume she always wore. It was an essential oil, which came in a tiny blue glass bottle with a rubber teat atop.
Laurie was ashamed to admit in childhood, she’d thoroughly nosied Wanda’s bathroom cupboards, a practice that was forbidden after Laurie exited it wearing Wanda’s contraceptive cap as a tiny yarmulke, asking why this hat was made out of a bendy material.
Wanda went inside the Edvard Munch exhibition, and Laurie made to follow but her mum laid her hand on her arm.
‘Will you walk in the park with me?’
This mother-daughter time had clearly been pre-agreed with Wanda, who didn’t look back.
They walked through the gates of Whitworth Park, and Peggy linked her arm through Laurie’s as they strolled down dappled paths. It was a brisk, bright morning, cold enough that their breath misted but sunny enough that they were both squinting slightly.
They reached a quiet corner and Peggy guided Laurie till they were sitting down on a bench.
‘I want to thank you for telling me about what happened,’ she said, after a long pause. ‘I’ve done much thinking about it. I think I understand things I never did before. Not about that incident, but in general.’
‘Oh?’
‘I … I’ve been very short-sighted, Laurie. I never thought that because your father did me harm, he did you harm too. I know he wasn’t around very much, that he could be negligent, but apart from that … You seemed to take him so much in your stride. I thought you enjoyed visiting him, more than you liked being at home. When you came to live in this city, I thought it proved that,’ she continued. ‘Your father always had the cash, he was fun dad. He didn’t partake in the drudgery, tell you to do your homework. He let you stay up late, watch anything, eat fried chicken and sweet things.’
Laurie grinned in spite of herself. ‘The KFC and butterscotch Angel Delight was amazing, Mum, I won’t lie.’
‘I didn’t want to let you go to his home for weekends, I didn’t trust him to take proper care. But you wanted to go and he accused me of ruining you having any relationship with him, when I resisted. I kept thinking, am I trying to take him away from her, because I couldn’t have him?’ Her mum’s eyes sparkled with tears and Laurie opened her mouth to contradict her and her mum shook her head: let me finish. ‘I kept going against my instincts as a mother, Laurie. It’s my fault what happened. I knew something untoward had happened the night you ran to the station, but you wouldn’t tell me what it was. Then I let the fact you were protecting him make me angry. I took it out on you. That was wrong.’
‘Dad is an abuser,’ Laurie said, quietly but clearly. ‘Of drugs of various kinds, which don’t help his judgement, but also an emotional abuser. One of the reasons I never face Dad down is I know it wouldn’t go well if I did. I’d have to see a different side to him. You live within the lines he draws or you don’t have a relationship with him at all. So I chose to live inside the lines. I wanted to have a dad.’
Peggy nodded. ‘Yes. I remember when you were born. I was in intensive care afterwards and he wouldn’t come and take you. He said he wouldn’t know what to do. I was going to tell him then he could never see you again, or not until you were old enough it was your choice. My parents told me not to do that. That you needed a father.’ She gulped, blinking rapidly in the grey-white sunshine. Laurie took her hand. ‘Then you were always such a determined, smart girl. Knew your own mind, made good choices. Not like me at twenty, I was a child. I had childish expectations of love.’
‘It isn’t your fault that Dad is the way he is,’ Laurie said. ‘While we’re on the offloading, I should tell you something else too, Mum: it turns out Dan lied. He left me for someone, he was having an affair, and the someone is now pregnant.’
‘No?’
‘Yes. I think women spend a lot of time beating themselves up about how they caused or deserved male behaviour, and it doesn’t happen anything like the same way in reverse. They get on with doing what they wanna do.’
‘Dan always seemed such a pleasant and devoted boy.’
‘Yep. Didn’t he just. That’s the part that destroys me. How will I ever spot the signs?’
They leaned their heads against each other, looking out over the grass.
‘You’re not angry at me?’ Peggy said, eventually.