Chapter 31

CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

SEVEN YEARS EARLIER

I t had been a week, and Laurie still hadn't decided what to do. So many things ran through her mind. If she had the baby, her life would be over. Fifteen years old, and she had no real future ahead of her.

What if she hated it when it was born? Supposing it looked like him ? The memory of that day would be relived in her mind every time she looked at her child.

There was only one thing to do, and that was to speak with her mum. Trying to carry the burden alone was too much. Surely, she would know what to do. With her mind on the baby, she turned into her street and stopped abruptly. It felt like an invisible hand had suddenly pushed against her chest, preventing her from going forward.

An ambulance was parked outside their house. A man was sitting on the front step, his head in his hands. Several neighbours were outside watching. Then, as she drew closer, forcing herself through the invisible barrier, she saw that the man on the step was Arthur and sitting beside him was Anika.

‘Oh, no,' she groaned. ‘Arthur?'

He looked up, his face white and drawn. Laurie took one look at his red eyes and tear-stained cheeks and knew.

‘Mum?' she said, her voice barely audible.

‘Oh, my lovely,' said Anika, wrapping her in her warm arms. The smell of curry wafted from her clothes, and Laurie breathed it in deeply. If she could stay here, then maybe nothing would change.

‘She won't go to the hospital. Maybe you can get her to change her mind,' said Arthur, breaking into Laurie's security blanket.

Laurie pulled herself out of Anika's embrace and rushed into the house, where the paramedics were coming down the stairs.

‘I'm her daughter,' Laurie said breathlessly. ‘You need to take her to the hospital.'

The paramedic looked at her sympathetically. ‘We've tried our best. I'm sorry, but she won't go.'

Laurie rushed past them and up the stairs where her mother lay in her darkened bedroom. The room stank of stale alcohol and unwashed bed sheets. The air was muggy and putrid. Laurie pulled her eyes away from the bin that was full of blood-stained tissues and went to draw back the curtains.

‘Laurie,' Brenda said weakly.

‘Let me open the curtains,' Laurie said.

‘No, it's too bright,' said Brenda, her voice hoarse.

‘What the fuck?' Laurie said, weeping. ‘I thought Arthur was looking after you.' There was a painful ache in Laurie's chest. I've let her down , she thought. I've not been here when she's needed me.

‘He's a man, don't blame him or yourself. I never wanted either of you to know the truth.'

Laurie tried to straighten the bedclothes but couldn't see what she was doing through her tears. ‘I would have looked after you.'

Brenda shook her head. ‘You're too young.'

Laurie stroked Brenda's thin hair and wiped her watery eyes with a tissue.

‘Two pills,' whispered Brenda. ‘The pain–'

Laurie strained to see the bedside cabinet. Several bottles of pills were lying amongst an assortment of tissues and half mugs of cold tea.

‘Which ones?'

Brenda pointed to a bottle and Laurie shook out two capsules. Carefully, she lifted her mother's head from the pillow and slipped the drugs into her mouth, using the cold tea to help wash them down.

‘You must go to the hospital,' she said, her voice breaking.

‘It's too late, darling.' Brenda clasped Laurie's hand with her cold and clammy fingers.

‘Mum…'

‘My liver is failing. It's time for me to check out.'

Laurie broke out in a cold sweat. What was she talking about, checking out? ‘You'll get better if you go to the hospital. They'll have everything you need there. You must go!'

Brenda took a long, labouring breath.

‘Don't talk, Mum. I'll get the paramedics to come back.'

‘No,' said Brenda firmly, using every ounce of breath she could force from her lungs. ‘Promise me–' Brenda coughed forcefully, blood spilling from her open lips.

Laurie lifted her body slightly. God, she was so light. Why hadn't she noticed? Gently, she wiped away the blood from her lips. The wetness of her tears fell onto her mother's nightie. ‘Please don't try and talk,' Laurie begged.

‘You'll stop drinking. Promise me, Laurie.'

‘I promise. Now, will you please go to the hospital?'

Brenda fell back onto the pillows and sighed. ‘I've got stage 4 liver cancer. There's nought they can do.'

Laurie dug her nails into her hand until they bled. Why now, why fucking now? Why the fuck hadn't she told them? Anger swept like a hurricane through her body. That bastard that raped her, his mother wouldn't die in squalor like this, would she? Oh no, she'd be in a lovely private clinic.

‘I've been waiting,' Brenda panted. ‘To say I'm sorry.' She squeezed Laurie's hand.

‘There's nothing to be sorry for. It's me who should be saying sorry. I've been a disappointment,' Laurie sobbed.

‘Oh darling, you've been the best daughter a mother could ever have. I let you down terribly. Forgive me.'

Laurie struggled to breathe. ‘No, you didn't. You've never let me down.'

‘Forgive me,' pleaded Brenda.

‘I forgive you, but you haven't done anything bad. I love you.'

‘A bad hand of cards, that's all it was,' whispered Brenda.

‘Yes.' Laurie wept. ‘A bad hand of cards.' She felt the cold hand in hers loosen its grip.

‘Love you forever,' Brenda whispered, closing her eyes. Her hand slid from Laurie's, and at that moment, Laurie felt part of her soul leave her body.

‘Love you forever, too. Safe journey, Mum,' she whispered, kissing her. ‘I promise with all my heart that I won't disappoint you.'

Gently, she climbed onto the bed and laid her head softly on Brenda's chest, clasping her hand.

Anika peered tearfully around the door, slid down the landing wall, and cried silently for fifteen minutes before entering the bedroom. Then, with the gentleness of an angel, she led Laurie away from her mother's body.

‘God has her now,' she said softly. ‘She's free from pain.'

Laurie nodded tearfully. She couldn't tell Anika she didn't believe in God and angels, only in good and evil. Her mother had been good, and he was evil. He should be the one suffering.