Chapter 22
TWENTY-TWO
DECLAN
Declan tried to shake thoughts of the impending sale of Wisteria House from his head as he drove through the estate where he once lived. As he drove the memories of growing up there came flooding back as they always did. There was no way he could stay here with his mum, even for a short time.
One thing was for certain, he needed to up his search for accommodation. The reality was that Wisteria House could be sold anytime soon.
Driving past the park, he noticed a couple of adults pushing kids on swings or guiding the younger ones down the slide. A young woman sat on a bench glued to her phone, before finally answering her daughter’s pleas to push her on the swing.
In the evening the park would become a hang-out for the local youths. He had been one of those teenagers himself once, flirting with the local girls and drinking cheap cider.
He drove on past the parade of shops, which consisted of a chemist, a supermarket, fish and chip shop and a betting shop.
Two of the shops, a clothing store and a cake shop, were long gone.
As a child he remembered his mum calling into the fashion shop and buying something to wear for the occasional evening out with his dad at the weekend.
She had taken a pride in her appearance then, but after his sister had gone, she gave up on almost everything including her marriage to his dad.
He remembered the rows, his dad raising his voice and reminding his mother that he was grieving too, when she had shut him out.
It was too much for them, and when Declan was twenty years old, they went their separate ways.
He was still in touch with his father, enjoying a pint with him on his birthday, and that sort of thing, but he wasn’t a big part of his life these days, something he regretted.
Driving past the primary school he once attended, he noticed that the bright-green railings and newly painted frontage were the only thing that had really changed over the years.
The memory of running along the playground, half watching out for his sister as she played with her friends, had him swallow down a lump in his throat.
He had tried to dissuade his sister from hanging around the park with the friends she had made in high school, even though he had once done the same.
There wasn’t much else for the kids to do around here, so they would gather in the park, and the kids on bikes peddling drugs had tempted them with cannabis.
A lot of teenagers smoked a bit of weed but thankfully grew out of it.
Others carried on, a few progressing to harder drugs.
His sister had been one of those people.
Driving around these parts got to him every single time.
Pulling up outside his mum’s bungalow, one of six dwellings, Declan was cheered to see that the front lawn looked neat and tidy, and a fresh hanging basket bursting with colourful blooms was displayed near the front door.
Clutching the lemon cake, he knocked on the door and his mum answered.
Her dark, bobbed hair was streaked with grey, something she would have once kept at bay with trips to the hairdresser, he was sure of that.
She was wearing a blue floral dress and even though the events of life had wearied her, she looked better than she did the last time he saw her.
‘Hiya, Mum,’ said Declan as he planted a kiss on her cheek, before heading into the kitchen with the cake where his mum put the kettle on.
‘So how have you been?’ asked Declan. He had removed his sunglasses and placed them on top of his head; he would have only drawn attention to himself had he kept them on.
‘Oh, you know, not bad. Pretty good most days actually.’ She turned and smiled as she retrieved two mugs from a cupboard.
‘That’s good to hear, Mum. Here, look what I brought you. I won’t lie, the bakery was closed, so I baked you a lemon cake,’ he said proudly. ‘I have brought most of it, after I sampled it first.’
His mum opened the cake tin and inhaled the scent of lemon.
‘You made it?’ His mum looked shocked.
‘With my own fair hands. Shall I grab a couple of plates?’ He grinned.
‘Ooh yes, love, that looks really good. I’m impressed. Just a small piece for me, though. In fact, you go on through; I’ll bring the tea and cake in a minute,’ she said, shooing him into the other room.
Declan walked into the lounge and glanced around. The red leather sofa had seen better days, but his mum looked after it and spruced it up with nice cushions.
‘Is that a new rug?’ he asked, pointing to the large rug on the laminate wooden floor when his mum entered the room.
‘Yes, it looks nice, doesn’t it? Norman took me to Great Homer Street Market last Saturday, and it was a real bargain. I got the cushions too.’
‘The room looks lovely.’
‘Thanks, love.’ She smiled proudly.
His mum set the tea and cake down on a coffee table and sat opposite him. Her gaze seemed to linger on him for a minute, and Declan wondered whether she had spotted the bruising on his face.
‘Are you sure you can’t join us later for a carvery?’ she asked Declan as he sipped his tea. ‘You look as though you have lost a bit of weight. Are you eating properly?’
‘Of course, Mum. I had a huge meal last night,’ he told her, thinking of the takeaway he had ordered. ‘I go running to keep the pounds at bay.’ He laughed, patting his stomach.
They chatted about this and that, and his mum asked him, as she often did, whether he had a girlfriend.
‘Not at the moment, but there is someone living in the apartment block.’ He told her all about Jess and how they had met up at a dinner party.
‘She sounds nice.’ His mum smiled. ‘And a dinner party, hey, sounds lovely. Maybe you could ask her around here. I could make my shepherd’s pie.’ She winked.
‘Now that does sound good. But I haven’t actually asked her out yet,’ he told his mum.
He idly wondered whether Jess would agree to a proper date with him, rather than just going for a coffee, as he took a bite of cake. It really was quite good. He also wondered if there was any point, if they were soon to be going their separate ways.
‘Well, I hope things go well,’ his mum told him. ‘I would like to see you settled before I depart this world,’ she said, glancing upwards.
‘I know you would, although hopefully you will be around for many years yet, Mum,’ he said. ‘I would quite like to settle down myself, but the opportunity hasn’t really presented itself.’ He shrugged, although truthfully he had not really been looking.
A couple of hours later, Declan stood to leave as Norman tapped on the back door.
‘Hello there, young Declan.’ Norman shook Declan’s hand with the grip of a much younger man. ‘How are things?’
‘Can’t complain. How’s yourself, Norman?’
‘Good, good. I can’t complain either. I’m still here, waking up every day. We have to count our blessings, don’t we?’ Norman, a bear of a man, grinned broadly. ‘Fancy joining us at the pub?’ he asked amiably.
‘No, thanks, Mum has already asked. Another time, though?’ suggested Declan.
‘Whenever you like,’ Norman said, shaking his hand once more.
Declan kissed his mum on the cheek goodbye.
‘Tell me how it goes with Jess,’ she said as he stepped outside, where the sun had suddenly put in an appearance. He thought he saw her gazing at the cut above his eye, although she never said anything.
‘Will do, Mum. Speak soon.’
He felt good when he left and watched his mum and Norman wave until his car disappeared around the corner.
His mum seemed to be doing okay these days, but even so he resolved to not leave it so long next time.
Life is precious. None of us know how long we have got.
Carpe diem, he thought to himself as he headed out of the estate, wishing he could close his eyes tightly when he drove past that damn park.