Lullaby
Charlie, come on! Move those legs! Havent you tied your laces again? Jane tugs at her sons hand as they march across the estate, but the boy drags his feet, crouching down every few steps.
Mum, can we go home? Home, Mum! he whines, a note of panic in his voice.
Oh, what now? Hold on, youre a big boy. And dont you dare wet yourself! Not now! Jane gives Charlie a sharp look, and he drops his gaze.
A dark stain blooms on his brown corduroy trousers. Even his socks are soaked.
Oh, for goodness sake! How am I supposed to go anywhere with you like this? Couldnt you have waited? Jane pulls him back towards the block of flats. She grips his tiny hand in one of hers; the other clutches the handles of a big sports bag, cans rattling noisily inside. Right, quick change! The soup will be cold, and were due at Grandmas
Charlie, his hair cropped close, snuffles and wipes his nose on the sleeve of his checkered shirt. Shame burns in him, and hes certain everyones staring. The boys by the railings are probably laughing, and that old lady on the bench is watching too, shaking her head in disapproval. Hes done a dreadful thingof course Mums angry
They share the lift with a man who smells of sweat and aftershave and leathera scent Charlie remembers from when Dad lived at home.
But Mum sent Dad packing nearly six months ago, telling him to go to those silly dragonflies of yours. Hed stood awkwardly in the flat, gathering his things, picked up his suitcase, glanced tiredly at his son, and shrugged.
Well, thats that, Charlie Goodbye!
He closed the door softly behind him. Mum cried for hours, with Gran comforting her, stroking her hair. And later, when Charlie began to sob too, Grandma Mary finally blew her topscolding Jane for driving her husband away and leaving the boy fatherless.
Charlie hid under the bed, frightened by the shouting. Jane leapt up and yelled back that her mother should mind her own business, that everything was Grans fault anyway
Then they all ended up crying at once. Charlie curled up by his mothers feet, clutching her legs, terrified that one day shed sigh thats that and leave him too. That was the scariest thought of all
But Jane stayed. Shes raised Charlie, managing the cramped kitchen with Grandma Mary, walking her son to nursery, standing at the window every evening, watching the street outside.
Gran Mary is always off somewheremaybe with work, or maybe avoiding Jane. Charlie knows that Grans involved in charity work and something called the committeealways having meetings, solving problems, pulling strings, making things happen. Theres not much time left for her daughter and grandson. Shes usually home after ten, when Charlies already asleep. Shell sit in the dark kitchen, sipping her syrupy sweet tea, staring into the night What are they looking for out there? Charlie never quite understands
Sometimes, if he gets up in the night, Gran will call him over, perch him on her lap and just rock him to sleep. In films, people sing lullabies to their children, but no one ever sang to Charlie.
Please, Gran? Sing me one! hed beg.
I cant, Charlie-boy. I dont know all those lullabies. Just try to sleep. And well wake your mumcome on now, close your eyes. Ill just rock you, Mary would say, almost apologetic.
Charlie would sigh, hug her tightly round the neck, kiss her clumsily on the cheek, and snuggle down on her strong lap. He loved her so much. He loved Mum too, even though she was always scolding him, brushing him aside, insisting that he was old enough to manage on his own.
But he didnt want to be on his own. He needed his mum
Now Jane is heading off to the hospital to see her mother, with a flask of fresh chicken soup and some homemade meatballs. Charlie has to come alongthe nurserys shut for the summer, the neighbour who sometimes helps is at her cottage in the country, and you cant leave a small boy at home alone!
They said I should get it checked out, Grandma Mary quietly admitted a month ago. My blood pressures spiking, and the doctor wasnt happy with my heart trace
Oh, they always say that! Just take your tablets, Mum. Youre fine! Everyone your age has something. They just want you for their statistics, thats all! Jane brushed her off.
How could her strong, independent mother, who always led teams and solved everyones problems, suddenly be in hospital? It all seemed ridiculous.
Well maybe youre right, Mary admitted, hesitantly. But you watchonce theyve got you, thats it! Ill just put it off a bit. Far too much going on anywaywhod let me take a week to rest?
Put it off she diduntil her head spun with pain and the veins in her legs turned into alarming blue cords bulging under her skin. Charlie would sneak a look at them sometimes, feeling awkward, curious, half wanting to touch, half frightened.
Then, as summer came, Mary went to the allotment to sort out the shed, drop off some seedlings, tidy upthen she came back and her blood pressure shot through the roof.
It was an ambulance, then. The paramedic scolded everyone, questioning why shed been ignored so long, what use were all these gardens if you end up in hospital, scolding Jane for neglecting her own mum.
Thats enough from you! Jane retorted. Anyone can fall ill. What is it with you lot, always with the lectures? Youre here to help, aren’t you? So just do your job!
Jane, please, shes right I should have known better Dont get cross! Mary murmured, each word a struggle as the dizziness hit. Janes just tired, she works so much
Mmm, right, the paramedic grumbled, giving Charlie a glance. I suppose his dads not around? Two lonely divorcees pretending to be powerhouses Well? Time to go then. Any neighbours who can help carry her down? No?
Mary changed clumsily, managed to get herself downstairs with Janes help, was bundled into the back of the ambulance. Jane shoved her bag in after her and asked for the hospitals address.
Thats it, Mum. Ive got to get Charlie. Ill be back tomorrow, alright? she called, a little colder than she intended. Or maybe it just felt that way.
Mary nodded; she couldnt even turn around. The stretcher in the ambulance was hard and freezing, but that was oddly comforting.
That night, Jane and Charlie fall asleep together in the armchair, both tossing and turning, their warmth making them uncomfortable, but neither brave enough to break away. Its safer, less lonely, together.
The next morning, Jane spends ages phoning the hospital, barking at the tired girl in reception and threatening to make a complaint. Then, instructing Charlie to wait quietly, she dashes to work, only to rush home again and prepare everything the nurse recommended before visiting her mother that evening. The ward is stuffy and smells musty. Jane wrinkles her nose and throws open the windowshe never asks permission, too used to solving things herself. Maybe thats why Peter left for the dragonflies; theyd all worship him, hang on every word, do as he saideven if it was just for show. Jane couldnt be like that; she was stubborn and strong-willed, just like her mother. Life had taught her to cope alone. Mum had never helped Jane muchshe was always too busy.
Mary lay at the far end of the ward, half-dozing beneath a thin blanket, by the window.
Mum! So, when are they letting you out? I had to beg the boss to let me visitwhats the doctor say? Jane chatters cheerily, though shes shocked by how pale and thin her mother looks, her suddenly greying hair.
She moves a strangers cup from the bedside table, starts laying out biscuits and apples.
Excuse me, but this is my table! And show some mannerssay hello! snaps the old woman in the next bed. And shut the window, theres a draft!
Jane locks eyes with the speakerher skin sagging over thin bones, her lips bluish and working constantly as if chewing her own words. Jane is horrified to see a set of dentures in a cup on the table.
Mum, really thoughwhen can you leave? You look great! she insists, turning away, rearranging everything again. Charlies got nowhere to gonurserys shut for the summer, apparently for painting. Just what they need! The soups cooled a bit, but try to eat, alright? So, when are you home? Holiday soonyou can look after your grandson, go to the allotment
Jane Didnt hear you come in Leave the soup, Ill eat later, thanks, love. Jane, listen They say I need an operation. Once Im a bit more stable theyll pick a date. Should have done it sooner, hearts not right
Jane, who had been busying herself with the apples, freezes. She turns, pushing her hands into the pockets of her baggy hospital gown so that no one sees them shaking.
An operation? Come off it! They always say that, Mum, cant you see? They just need a patient for their statstheyll write it up as a miracle and move on!
Stop, Jane! Thats not true, Mary protests. They explained it allmy heart, the readings It should have been sorted years ago
Years ago? What? Let go of my hand, Mumwhat is it? You want to get up? Okay, up you get. Mum, dont you remember what happened with Dad? He wouldve been fine if it werent for their operation! And you just said, Well, if they must, put him in. Ill catch up with everything else.
Jane pulled her hands away and turned aside. Good grief, how many years have passed? Shes still not forgiven Mary for not saving Dad, for being too busy, sorting out everyone else, rushing to meetings, never finding time for her own family.
She was nearly sixteen thenDad would joke about her growing up, getting married, having kids hed spoil. Shed shout that shed never marry, that shed live free, work hardjust like her mum.
But her dad never saw any of that. The call came early one morning: There’s been an incident. Youll need to make arrangements. Jane didnt know what the arrangements were supposed to behow can you sort anything out when your dad, YOUR DAD, is just gone?
Mary did come home, sobbed, tried to hug Jane, but Jane just pushed her away.
Its your fault. You let him die. He didnt want to go to hospital, but you forced it, went to the chief doctor to get it sped up! Well done. I hate you! Jane whispered through her tears.
So many years have passed, the pain dulled, the anger faded, but the emptiness remains. Now its all churning up again, but this time Jane is scared for her mum.
Jane, I know youre busy, your job, Charlie I wont be a burdenIll recover as quickly as I can. But nownow can you just help me to the sink? I just want to wash my face, Mary says quietly, sitting up, tugging at her dressing gown, head spinning. She hates asking for helpalways the one to carry the load, shooing away anyone who tried to assist. Now, here she is, learning to accept weakness
Come on then, Mum. Jane gently helps her to the sink, feeling how heavy her mother leans on her, shuffling at a snails pace.
Inside, Janes fear bubbles up as irritation.
There you gowash up! Careful, Mumthe floors getting wet, youll slip! Careful!
Mary stumbles, suddenly is sick.
Sort this mess out, now! What have you done? the old lady grumbles from her bed. Your mothers been a nightmare, nurses wont come near her now. Clean up, come on!
Jane looks from her mother to the floor, then away, biting her lip.
Im sorry, Jane
Mary, ghostly pale and sweating, makes it back to bed, shuts her eyes, clutching her head.
Ill get you moved, Mum. What if youre infectious? Youve turned green, look at you! Nurse! Nurse, call the doctor! Get her out the old woman points a bony finger at Mary, shouldnt have put her here, spreading who knows what!
Red-faced and trembling, Jane grabs a mop and bucket, scrubbing at the floor. Please let Charlie have behaved, please let him still be waiting quietly.
The old woman is cackling and ranting, banging her dry knuckles against the metal bed frame, hacking and shrieking. Mary sobs, shaking under her blanket.
Just shut up, will you! Jane snaps, dropping the mop and marching over, looming over the old woman so she falls silent. Dont you dare shout at my mum again, got it? Or someone might forget to visit you here! You scared everyone off, didnt you? All on your own. Treat people badly, thats what happens. This is a hospital, not a hotel; everyones equal, like it or not. Dont want to share? Theres the door!
Jane is shaking, desperate to leave, the sickly, moribund odour of the old woman hanging in the air, her toothless mouth a vision of death itself.
The old woman chuckles.
Having a good look, are you? Youre right. Theres no one left for me. My children forced me to sign the flat over; now they fight over scraps. Husband left when I was expecting my youngest. Never had real friends. Think I care? Let your mum rot in here for all I care. People are like spiderseach pulling their own thread. You’ll learnbest run while you can, girl. Leave your mother. Shell drag you down. Better to go now, before you waste your life pushing a wheelchair. Someone else will take her in. Run along while you can.
She smacks her lips and cackles again, so horribly that Janes skin prickles.
But Jane has always been alone, has been ever since her father was gone. There was a time with Peter, but she threw him out too. Why? Because she never learned how to share a life, never got used to another opinion, another heart. Even raising Charlie felt like something she did by herselfher own project, her own control.
And what about Mum? This tired, pale woman with her roots showing, bitten nailswhen did that even start? barely visible beneath the blanket, still Janes mum. Strange to see her so still, not in a rush, as if the energy had finally run out
Time to go. Doctors know what theyre doing. Charlies been waiting too long anyway!
Jane glances at her watchshes been here for ages.
Mum! Ill fetch the doctor, yeah? she whispers, rubbing her back. Hell know what to do.
No, it will pass soon, I promise. And I wont have the operationIll refuse. I won’t make things worse for you and Charlie. Go on, love, see to him. Thank you for coming. Dont worry about medont come back, Jane, really
Janes mum rarely hugged her, never sat beside her at bedtime or fussed over her like some other mothers do. Even now, her goodbye is brisk and distant, as though she wants her gone.
Jane empties the mop bucket, wanders the corridors for ten minutes, then returns.
Listen, Mum! You’re not a burden. Just focus on getting better, dont rush. Well manage, honestly! Ill come every day. And once youre home, take some holiday and well all get away somewherewhen youre well enough, promise? Well go together. And dont be scared. Your doctor comes highly recommended, everyone says so. Mum, I do love youdont ever think youre a bother, whatever anyone else says.
Mary smiles, squeezing her daughters hand, kissing it.
Jane turns, noticing the old womanshes quiet now, maybe even crying, or maybe its just a trick of the light.
When Jane and Charlie return home, Peter is waiting near the entrance. Charlie spots him and bolts into his dads arms.
Jane, I heard Marys in hospitalI want to help if you need anything, Peter says, looking at the ground.
Jane purses her lips. She needs nothingshe can do it all herself. But Charlie tugs her sleeve. Jane looks at her son and sighs.
Who is she kidding? Of course she cant do it alone. And Charlies happier with his dad around anyway.
And what about your precious dragonflies? Jane asks sharply.
There never were any dragonflieshere you go again! Jane, I want to be here with you both. Ill take Charlie out, spend time with him, take him to my sisters at the coast. And if you want
Jane cuts him off.
I just want a proper family. But I dont know how, Peter. I dont. Mum didnt, either, and now shes so lost in hospital, convinced shes a burden. Peter, Im scared for her. Really scared
Peter gets it. He still loves Jane, always has.
That night, after Charlie finally falls asleep, Peter and Jane sit together in the kitchen for ages, not speakingafraid words might break the peace they’ve found.
Mum, just sit down, Ill wash your face. What do you mean, Ill do it myself? You’ll get dizzy again! Enough of thatjust sit, Jane commands, gently turning down the collar of Marys nightshirt, brushing hair off her forehead. There. And now, you must eat. Why arent you eating? The doctor will go mad! Look, I brought homemade dumplingsCharlie helped. See? The big ones are his.
Mary smiles, watching Jane set out supper. It feels odd, makes her a little embarrassedbut oh, how lovely to be cared for
Thank you, Janie. Have you eaten?
No time, Mum. Left work early, came straight here. Ill eat at home.
And Charlie? Whos with him?
Jane hesitates, then replies:
Mum, Peters back. Isnt that better? Isnt it right? What do you think? Hes minding Charlietook him to the zoo today. Charlie copies his dad, even tried to tie his laces. And Peters got time off anywayif youre against it, hell leave.
Leave? Jane, don’t take him back just as a convenience. Dont repeat my mistakes. I never valued people, only realised when it was too late. I regret it now. Youre a family, Jane. So be a family, Mary urges.
Husband and wifedevils both! pipes up the old woman (now Jane knows shes called Mavis Armstrong, brought in from a care home). He used to give me what for! Gave me a good hiding, he did.
Oh, Ms Armstrongyouve not changed! Jane grins. Still got your fire, have you? Well, I brought you a few things, see if you like them.
She sets out a small bagnothing much, a couple of nighties, socks, a jumper, a few hankies. Mavis snorts and pushes it away.
Dont need your handouts!
But I found your name on a programme from the old theatre. You were in the business, werent you? Jane whispers, teasing. I’ve seen clipswhat a star you were!
Maviss face darkens.
You didnt work in theatre, you served! Done up all posh, I was. They all wanted to grow up fast, my kids, never had time for them Still, thanks for the gifts. But dont you dare bring me more!
Jane pats her hand, smiling.
Alright, deal. Dumplings? she winks.
Oh, get out of it! Youre a pest! Mavis mutters, pulling her blanket over her head.
Jane isnt offended. Shes finally learned its not easy to accept care, to let people dote on you. Mavis finds it hard tooespecially now, when shes so frail.
October is bright this yearcrisp air, gold-dusted maples in the park, the oaks deep brown. No mushrooms at all; too dry, they say.
Mary sits on the veranda of the old holiday cottage, watching Charlie play in the sandpit. Jane joins, wrapping her arms around her mothers shoulders, nuzzling her cheek.
Its strange, not to be in a rush, not organising, not hurrying Mary muses, shaking her head in wonder. Is this what they call old age, Jane?
Jane shrugs.
No, Mum, I think its just a new chapter. But soon youll be up to your old tricks, running aroundyou never can help it! she teases.
Oh, I dont know. Maybe Im learning, at last. Whens Peter leaving? I want to bake him a pie to take with him. Mary rises slowly, gripping the rails.
Weve got time, Mum, the doughs not ready yet. And where are you off to now? Cant you ever rest? Jane laughs.
No, Ill bring Charlie his hatits chilly. I cant just sit here all day Marys voice fades as she shuffles off, Charlie rushing over, laughing, hands outstretched.
Jane smiles. If only she could freeze this momentto savour every detail, this days scent, the sunlight on the leaves, the trembling of the aspen, the sound of Mary at dusk singing a lullaby to her grandson
Gran, you know how to sing now? Proper songs for bedtime, yeah? Did you learn in hospital? Charlie whispers in awe when Mary first sings his lullaby.
Maybe I did she answers thoughtfully. Am I any good?
The best, Gran. Sing more! Charlie hugs her arm, eyes closed. Somehow, hes sure everything will be all right now.
No, people arent spiders after all, Jane realises, shaking her head. People just cant do without one anotherits against their nature. Mavis Armstrong knows that too! She writes to Jane and Mary, real letters, still full of fire and complaintsbut always a little apology at the end. Her big, battered soul just cant exist shut off on its own; it breaks out, seeking company, warmth, someone to care for and to live for. The restwork, worriesthey should leave space for family, for one more warm hug.
