Queenie(88)

“Lots of therapy buzzwords there, Janet,” I said, reaching for the cup of tea and propping myself up on one elbow to take a sip. “Jesus, this is sweet!” I swallowed it down.

“How much sugar have you had today?” Janet asked.

“I don’t think any. I’ve only had toast. I didn’t have much of an appetite,” I said, lying back down.

“Well, there you go. Finish it. Your grandmother is on her way.”

“Excuse me? My grandmother is leaving South London? To come here?” I launched myself up and put the mug down. “She hasn’t left South London since she came here in the fifties, and she has family in North London. Oh God.”

“She’s down as your next of kin,” Janet said. “There is nothing to worry about. You must try to be aware when you’re catastrophizing, Queenie.”

“I’m going to be in so much trouble,” I groaned.

“Let’s lay it out as it is,” Janet said, looking me dead in the eye. “Queenie, you are an adult woman. And you have made an adult choice to come to therapy. Your family have accepted that, it seems. There is no trouble to get in. Today you have had a funny turn, and your grandmother is coming to collect you. I spoke to a cabdriver and gave them the full address, so she won’t have to negotiate public transport. You will get the cab back, and then I suggest that you rest and think little more of it. Okay?” Janet stood up and went to leave the room.

“Okay,” I said. “Damn it, Janet.”

Janet turned and looked at me. “My daughter used to say that to me. Is that in reference to The Rocky Horror Picture Show?”

“Yeah! I didn’t know you had a daughter. I’m sorry, was this her room? Did she . . . pass away?” I said, horrified.

“Queenie. You must stop thinking the worst. She’s very much alive. She works in Hong Kong. She flew out a year ago, after her twenty-fifth birthday. Very accomplished, my daughter. Now. Have your tea and rest until your grandmother gets here.”

I must have fallen asleep, because I woke up to my grandmother’s bony fingers shaking me by the shoulder. “Come on, the cab is outside, the meter ah’ run,” she said.

We rode home in the back of the cab, me in forced silence as my grandmother listed all of the reasons why she was never leaving South London again. Points three to seven were all variations of how she didn’t trust the buildings. Points eight to fifteen were all about smells. Though I felt exhausted, probably from the fainting, I also felt as though some weight had been lifted from my shoulders. I didn’t feel brighter. Just lighter.





chapter


TWENTY-SIX


“HELLO, MUM,” I heard my mum say breathlessly as she walked in the front door. “Where’s Queenie?” I rolled my eyes.

“In the front-front room. If you two haffi sit in there, don’t stay long. This isn’t a special occasion,” my grandmother said, walking off into the kitchen.

“How are you?” my mum said, perching on the edge of the armchair opposite.

“I’m all right,” I replied, then observed, “You’re still not eating.”

“God, you’re as bad as Mum. Anyway, thanks for saying you’ll have a chat,” she said. “I know you’re probably busy.” I watched her clench and unclench her fists nervously, her brittle fingers trembling.

“I’m not that busy, I’m almost always here,” I told her. “I’m usually cleaning or taking things to and from the launderette, but I’m not busy.”

“Mum’s got you cleaning to pay your keep here?” my mum asked. “I should have known. It’s why we’ve all got cleanliness OCD.”

I laughed. I hadn’t heard her make a joke in years. Not that what she said wasn’t true.

My mum said quietly, “It’s about the court case. You remember, the one against Roy?”

I nodded slowly, hoping she wasn’t going to ask me to testify.

“I’ve had a bit of good news. After almost three years, we won!” she said, wrapping her arms around her small frame. “I didn’t think it would ever end! And I can’t get the house back, or most of the money, because he’s spent the majority of it. But I’ve been given what was left.”

“Well, that’s good!” I said, hiding my disappointment that I didn’t feel instant relief. “And him?”

“He’s not going to prison or anything like that,” my mum explained. “I wasn’t really listening, if I’m honest, just happy that it was all over and done with. Anyway, I wanted to give you this—” She rummaged in her handbag, eventually pulling out a check that was folded in half.

She stood up and handed it to me. “It’s a fair bit of what I got. Not a lot, but I thought you could use it as a deposit to rent somewhere for yourself, and pay a few months’ rent. That way you won’t have to keep paying your way here in manual labor.” My mum went to pat me on the shoulder, but pulled her hand away and whispered another apology.

She smiled at the floor and walked noiselessly out of the room into the kitchen, where I heard my grandmother immediately berate her for her weight loss. I unfolded the check. I’d never seen so much money in my life, and my mum had handed it over like it was nothing.