Chapter 10
TEN
Nina lay for a while staring at the door of the bedroom, picturing a particular morning about a month before Finn died.
He had peeled off notes from a wad in his wallet and laid them on the counter-top with a wink, as if tipping her: a fifties housewife being given her allowance.
Now it made her blood run cold. I never for one second felt tricked or uncertain, but now?
I’m not sure of anything, and that makes me sadder than I can say.
Sitting up, she rubbed her face, ran her fingers through her wild hair and rose slowly to face this momentous day: the day her boys started their new school.
It was also the day she would redouble her efforts in looking for a job, cast the net even wider and be prepared to travel even further. The prospect of both petrified her.
With a mug of tea in her hand and ignoring the growl of hunger in her stomach, she raised the blind.
The cold snap had thankfully passed and the winter sun sent a blue swathe over the rooftops.
It was still chilly, but without the bone-numbing cold and damp that had made life in the flat so very unpleasant.
Portswood Road was coming to life. A slight man jumped from a poorly parked white van and dropped a bundle of newspapers on the pavement outside the convenience store, before roaring off to his next delivery point.
Early dog walkers were out in force, nodding knowingly to each other as the sun rose on this fresh February day.
The idea jolted in her mind that a paper round or dog walking would be a good way to bring in a little bit of money.
A young couple in coordinating Lycra and matching gloves jogged side by side along the kerb, looking stern and matching each other stride for stride.
The idea of her and Finn doing that made her smile.
Their health and fitness measures were mainly saying no to more cheese and stopping after one glass of wine.
She pictured sitting with her feet resting on his lap on the sofa, eating cheese and crackers and sipping wine, laughing. Happy times.
She looked up over the chimney pots, wondering what was going on inside the numerous homes all squished together in this little corner of the city.
She knew that in many of them, parents just like her would be waking children for their first day of school after the half-term break and, just like her, they would be sitting with nerves shredded, torn between wanting to get the day started and wishing she could delay it.
A bus pulled up and Lucia got off, wearing her striped overall over a tracksuit.
Nina could see she was tired, and remembered Lucia had a night job, cleaning.
She waved her hand in greeting and Lucia managed a smile, then a yawn, followed by the universally recognised sign for sleep, her two hands in prayer, laid against her tilted head.
Nina gestured for her to come inside, remembering her dad coming home from night shifts, the joy he took in easing off his cumbersome work boots and flexing his feet inside the thick socks, and the look of bliss on his face as he sipped hot tea that seemed to offer momentary restoration.
Lucia came over to the door, which Nina opened. ‘Can’t I get you a cup of tea?’
‘I can’t. Babysitting duties.’ She pulled a face. ‘My baby sister, Jemima.’
Nina had thought the baby was hers. ‘Oh how lovely, your lucky mum!’ She meant it.
‘Yes, lucky. I’m one of six and she just keeps getting lucky!’
One of six? Nina bit her lip, not wanting to blurt out what she was thinking: that having six children could do nothing to help when your life was a struggle financially. It was another wake-up to just how much her life with Finn had shielded her from the harsh reality of what she had left behind.
‘Are you the oldest?’
‘No, I have two older brothers, both moved away, one at college, and then the three little ones are at home with Mum and me.’
‘Hard work, I bet.’
‘Yes, hard work, and the reason I can’t go away to college for my art, my painting. There’s just not the money – a student loan would barely cover it and I don’t know how Mum would cope without me.’
‘That’s such a shame.’ Nina didn’t want to judge or pry, but she wished she could tell her that it was important she live her life too, follow her dreams. ‘I bet you are talented.’
‘I love painting. I’m really good.’ Lucia held her gaze and Nina envied her confidence in her ability.
‘You shouldn’t let it go to waste.’
The girl shrugged, as if the sentiment, no matter how well intended, were irrelevant. ‘Anyway, better get home. A quick nap, then the kids are up for school.’
‘Your mum’s certainly lucky to have you.’
Lucia blushed. ‘I’ll take you up on that cup of tea another time.’
‘You bet.’ Nina hoped she would. Here, in this community, alone, she felt comfortable in reaching out the neighbourly hand of friendship, wanting to engage.
Yet at The Tynings, where she had had enough room to house the entire neighbourhood, and an abundance of beverages to offer, the thought didn’t occur to her.
An image of Mrs Appleton flashed into her mind and she cringed, remembering the damp, dark evening she had practically begged the woman, who was little more than a stranger, for shelter.
She heard the boys’ bedroom door open and the sound of Connor running a bath.
The bathroom was harder to spruce up. The addition of lime green towels and bath mats from home had certainly brought a welcome splash of colour.
These additions, however, counted for little when her skin met with the scratched base of the plastic bath and the icy wall tiles when climbing in and out.
She hadn’t told the boys, thinking it might unsettle them, but only the day before she had taken a call from Mr Firth.
He had told her softly, kindly, that the liquidators had been inside and taken any bits of large furniture that were left, the gates had been padlocked, the locks changed, and a ‘For Sale’ sign put up.
It was hard for her not to picture the numerous times she had driven through those gates, pulling up in her fancy car with groceries, shopping or kids in tow .
. . She couldn’t imagine being locked out of the home they had created.
Mr Firth was a good man and she was thankful that he had thought to ring.
She flashed back to Connor’s distressed call and the battered lorry on the driveway.
Even the thought of it left her feeling a little queasy.
Nina tried not to imagine the house now, preferring to think of it in its pristine state, even managing to erase the image of two sets of dirty footprints left by Mr Ludlow’s associates on her hallway floor.
She shivered and took a glug of her tea. There simply wasn’t enough headspace available for her to go over that day again. Not with everything else to occupy her thoughts.
‘Mum?’ Declan stood in the doorway, clutching his stomach, ‘I’ve got an upset tummy.’ He grimaced.
‘That’ll just be nerves, darling. It’s okay, once you get settled and your day is under way you’ll be right as rain, you’ll see.
’ She winked at him, trying to lighten the mood, fighting her desire to scoop him into her arms and hold him close.
She thought of the bedwetting incident, the stress that Declan hid, and that pained her so.
Declan screwed up his face, ‘It’s not that, Mum. I need the bathroom. I need it badly, but Connor is in there.’
‘Oh, oh God.’ She put her tea down and rushed along the hallway, knocking gently on the door, ‘Con, sorry to disturb you, but Declan needs to use the bathroom and he needs it now!’
‘I’ll be five minutes!’ he snapped.
‘I don’t think we’ve got five minutes!’ she yelled, whilst smiling reassuringly at her youngest.
‘Oh for God’s sake!’
She heard a loud splash and then the stamp of her son’s feet on the linoleum floor. The door flung open and Connor stood dripping wet with a towel wrapped around his waist.
Declan rushed in and slammed the door, then banged the toilet seat against the bowl.
‘Thank you, Connor.’
He ignored her, shaking his head and twisting his jaw in frustration before he started banging on the door with his fist. ‘Hurry up, Declan!’
‘Please don’t take it out on him, he can’t help it, he needs the loo!’
‘And I need a bath and here we are stuck in this shitty flat on this shitty day!’
‘You need to pipe down, Connor. You can’t talk to me like that. I am aware that our situation is far from perfect—’
‘You think?’ he snorted, interrupting her.
‘Losing your temper is not going to help anything.’
He huffed and stared at his feet.
Nina felt the first throb of a headache. This was not the start she had hoped for.
The boys ate their breakfast of cereal in the narrow kitchen. The lack of space meant they stood side by side, leaning against the cupboards.
‘You both look lovely,’ she tried.
Connor tugged at the thin polo shirt collar that sat under his sweatshirt and turned up his nose, as if both the material and school logo offended him.
‘This is, like, something you might wear for PE!’ He shook his head.
She had to admit it was a world away from his old uniform of a stiff-collared white shirt, navy sweater and pure wool blazer with the school crest and motto emblazoned on the chest. Nina felt a spike of disgust when she recalled just how much she had enjoyed traipsing around the city with her boys in tow, quietly acknowledging the knowing looks from other residents who knew what it took to be a Kings Norton College boy.
‘And the good news is, you finish at four fifteen. That’s a whole hour earlier than you are used to. You’ll have more free time of an evening.’