Chapter 7 #2
The flat had either been remodelled or else she had a false memory of the size and layout.
They stood in a dark, long hallway. Directly opposite was the bare bathroom.
Peering inside they saw a small frosted glass window let in some light; there was a toilet and an old sink, with a small square of mirror with a chunk missing hanging just above.
A white plastic bathtub was well worn; in some spots, the colour was now grey.
The rings and loops, the result of a harsh scouring pad on the plastic, reminded her of the ice on the rink at Rockefeller Center in New York, where she and Finn had looped around one Christmas, arm in arm, and it had felt like the most romantic thing in the world.
She pushed the memory away; there was no time right now to think about that other life.
Despite her efforts to remain focused and strong, tears gathered, as if the momentum of the day finally caught up with her and the sight of the dismal bathroom was just too much.
She was finding that grief was disorganised, random; it struck at the most inopportune moment, could make her legs buckle under her, suck the air from her lungs and leave her deflated, winded and disoriented.
She coughed and wiped her eyes on her sleeve, burying the howl of distress that threatened to leave her body, for the sake of her boys.
She scanned the white tiles and the green-and-white linoleum that sat in the strip of space between the side of the bath and the wall.
A threadbare green-and-orange-patterned hand towel had been carefully folded in half and hung over the single chrome bar of the towel stand.
The thoughtfulness of it made her want to weep all over again.
‘It’s very cold in here.’ Declan shivered.
She nodded. ‘I’ll put the fire on.’
‘It’s very small,’ Declan noted in a nervous whisper.
‘It’s big enough.’ She gave a tight-lipped smile. ‘What more do you need? Other than space to stand in the shower and room to sit on the loo?’
‘There isn’t a shower.’ Declan looked up at her.
‘Then a lovely warm bubble bath will do just fine. It’ll warm you up too,’ she responded as quick as a flash.
They all looked towards the window as the glass rattled in the frame. A train hurtled by, filling the room with a rhythmic, deafening thrum, followed by knocks that echoed down the line.
Connor stared at her.
‘Let’s look at the bedrooms!’ she trilled with false brightness, trying to move everyone’s attention from the terrible noise of the train.
Declan ran ahead. With his arms stretched out he could reach both walls of the hallway, showing just how very narrow the space was.
It was claustrophobic, tight, tiny. Horrible.
She walked behind him, closing her eyes briefly and gathering strength as she approached the two doors.
The white gloss paint was chipped and scratched, and splashed with the droplets of tea that an elderly or hurried hand had been unable to contain.
She knew this moment would stay etched in her mind, the desperate feeling at being back in the place from which she thought she had escaped forever.
Dragging her two sons along with her was almost more than she could bear.
Finn had promised her a life free of worry, a good life for her and their children.
Finn had lied.
Declan walked into the room to the left. A set of bunk beds sat in front of the window. ‘I’m sharing with you, Connor!’ he said. Even in this dire situation, he found it hard to keep the flicker of delight from his voice.
‘You are kidding me? I have to share with Declan? In bunk beds?’ Connor said, as if this was the worst discovery so far.
‘It won’t be forever. Just a short while,’ Nina whispered, wondering just how long a ‘short while’ might be. ‘I’ll get a job and we will move. This is just temporary, and we need to make the best of it until that point.’
He stared at her mistrustfully. It tore at her heart.
Tiggy followed them into the room. ‘How we all doing?’
‘Just awesome!’ Connor offered sarcastically, giving her a double thumbs-up.
‘Great!’ Tiggy responded in a matching tone. ‘In that case, Connor, I nominate you to start unloading the van and find the kettle.’ She gave him double thumbs-up right back.
‘We can all do it, that will be quickest.’ Nina squeezed past her sons and sister, keen to get back outside and shake off the feeling of claustrophobia.
She looked back at her family squished together forlornly in the dark, narrow space, all staring at her expectantly.
Finn’s words came to her: ‘I feel like I am living in a world made of glass & with every day comes a new pressure that is pushing down down down . . .’
And did you think this was best, Finn? To put me in your world made of glass? Because you have! That’s what you have done! A bubble of laughter burst from her mouth. ‘Sorry,’ she managed, stifling her laughter into her hand.
It was that or scream.
After she and Tiggy had returned the rental van, Nina dipped into her meagre funds for a fish-and-chip supper, carefully peeling off notes and rubbing them between her thumb and forefinger to make sure none were stuck together.
The idea of giving money away or losing it was terrifying.
They now walked along the pavement, back towards the boys waiting at the flat, with the hot supper sweating in a plastic bag.
‘How are you for money?’ Tiggy asked. Nina flinched, remembering Finn’s mantra that it was one of three things they weren’t to discuss.
‘I’ve got a little bit of cash, enough for a couple of months’ rent, and I have some things to sell. Could you help me with that?’ She didn’t know where to start.
‘Sure. And then what?’ her sister pushed.
‘Things are tight. I need to get a job.’ She nodded, trying to sound more confident than she felt. ‘And fast.’
‘What do you fancy doing?’ Tiggy asked, as though Nina were at liberty to choose.
‘I don’t know, anything that fits in with school hours.
I know that sounds pathetic. I’m in my mid-thirties, I should have more of an idea, shouldn’t I?
’ She bit her lip to stop it from trembling.
‘I’ve been so cosseted. It never occurred to me that I would need a career plan.
I’m scared,’ she whispered, wondering how she would juggle all that she needed to.
How could she help the boys settle into a new school, and be the sole provider at the same time?
The prospect of not going out to work and earning money was even more scary.
‘You always wanted to be a nurse,’ Tiggy reminded her.
‘I did, but I think most little girls do, don’t they, at some point?’
Tiggy shook her head. ‘Not me. I wanted to be an astronaut.’
‘How’s that working out for ya?’
They both laughed. Tiggy held her sister’s gaze. ‘I decided to give it a miss. I prefer the pub. Better working hours and a much sexier uniform.’
‘Oh, Tig, I can laugh, but I am really in the shit.’
‘Yep, but the good news is, you are only in your mid-thirties, you have decades of good work left in you. That’s valuable to an employer.’ Tiggy lit up a cigarette.
‘I guess so.’ She tried to take comfort from this positive, but these mind tricks were harder to pull off than she thought. However, she loved her sister for trying.
‘You’ll get back in the saddle and you’ll be fine. You’ll see. You used to love going to work!’
Nina nodded. ‘I did.’ She remembered her first Saturday job in the florist’s, and then later working in the restaurant at the cruise ship terminal down by the docks.
‘It’s not that I don’t want to work. I’ll do whatever it takes.
I’m just worried about how much I can realistically earn and that no one will want me. ’
‘They will. You have a lot to offer.’ She paused. ‘I have hated to see your confidence so eroded over the years.’
The comment jarred her.
‘I can’t help it. I feel so anxious. I don’t want to be.’
‘I know,’ Tiggy said, her intonation suggesting that the fault lay with something or someone else. ‘And I know everything must be hard right now. It must make every step feel as if you are jumping into quicksand.’
‘It does.’ Nina’s voice was small. She chose not to pick up her sister’s thread.
She didn’t have an ounce of spare energy for analysis of her situation.
‘I’ve had a good life, a life I wouldn’t change.
But right now I can’t see my future. Can’t see the kids’ future, and that’s the scariest thing. I love them so much.’
‘I know you do, and you should. They are great boys, of course. You were not much more than Connor’s age when you left here,’ Tiggy reminded her.
Nina pictured herself at seventeen, naive, trusting, malleable. ‘God, I was so young.’
She thought again about the last time she had worked, running around for twelve-hour shifts at her waitressing job, with aching limbs and throbbing feet, sustained by the camaraderie of her colleagues as they dealt with the drunk, the absurd and the ridiculous: people who drank and ate with a gluttonous holiday mentality even though they were yet to leave port.
She did love the interaction with the different people from all walks of life, imagining the many places they would visit on the vast shiny ships that left her behind on the grey shores of Southampton.
And she recalled the sense of pride when she got her pay cheque at the end of the working week.
One night after passing out with exhaustion, she awoke when her dad had crept into her room, pulled the duvet up over her back and smoothed the curls from her cheek, like she was still a small child.
Bending low, he kissed her gently on the face and whispered, ‘There is no sleep as sweet as the sleep taken after a hard day’s work, Nina . . .’ She had never forgotten it.