Chapter 5

5

It had only been a few days, but Gio thought he might well tear his hair out soon with this woman here. All day, every day.

There was only so much patience Gio had.

And already, it was wearing thin.

The night he'd spoken with his mother on the phone had brought with it the usual stress but when he'd fallen asleep on the sofa, he'd had no idea of what was about to come his way.

His mother. In real life. At his door.

‘Well, don't I get a hug?' his mother had said, opening her arms.

He rubbed a hand across his face as though he might be seeing things. ‘Mum, what are you doing here?'

She dropped her arms but he quickly stepped forwards to indulge her with a hug, defusing the situation before it blew up in his face. ‘You'd better come in.'

The sun wasn't even up yet and he wished he wasn't either. He felt all over the place – late shifts and night shifts often buggered up his sense of timing. And so did unexpected visits.

‘Mum, what are you doing here?' He repeated his question the second he closed the door after she'd hauled her bag inside. His heart sank at the size of it; it looked big enough for most of her worldly possessions from what he remembered.

She unwound her green, knitted scarf, the one she'd knitted herself in one of her better periods when she had steered clear of the bottle – at least for as long as it had taken her to knit the thing anyway.

‘I know it's a shock.' She toyed with the ends of the scarf between her fingers until he offered to take it along with her coat. He put them both on the hooks in the hallway.

So much for the cleaning job. Which, come to think of it, she had either lied about or jacked in before she'd even started.

But then she must have planned this – thinking back to their conversation last night, she'd said something about how it was colder there than where you are . He hadn't registered at the time that she hadn't said it was colder here .

‘Mum, how did you get here?'

Her grin spread. ‘I got a lift in a lorry.'

She'd bloody well hitchhiked! What sixty-six-year-old did that unless she was trying to recapture some sort of youth? She'd missed out on a lot of years getting pregnant so young, barely out of school herself; perhaps that was a part of what had made her the way she was.

‘It was all above board,' she insisted. ‘The driver is a husband of a friend and we arranged it last week.' Well, that was a relief. ‘He was very kind to bring me.'

‘What about your job?'

She waved her hands as though that was unimportant. ‘I'm parched, we didn't stop off anywhere; could I have a cup of tea after I use your loo?'

‘Sure.' Why not? Why not act as though she was popping in like a regular mum, come to say a surprise hello rather than showing up on the doorstep of the son who she barely saw and who, a couple of visits ago, had gone to her place and had had to clean up vomit from her carpet and help her change her clothes.

The tea gave him something to do. But he needed coffee. A strong one. He dropped a pod into the little machine and positioned a mug beneath the spout.

When the drinks were made, he pushed the mug of tea in her direction. ‘Why didn't you tell me you were coming?'

‘You might have pretended to be out.' She followed him into the lounge.

‘I wouldn't have done that.' He hid his own doubts about this claim behind a sip of coffee that burnt the edge of his lips. He wanted to know how long she was staying – the bag she'd brought could mean one night, or it could mean one month.

It took her a while to look at him and when she did, there was a reticence in her smile, a nervousness in her eyes. ‘I'm back in AA.' Her fingers stroked the china of her cup. ‘I know, I've been before, a few times. And it never worked. I never stuck with it. But it's different this time.'

It always was.

‘I don't expect you to believe me,' she said.

‘What about the job?' He set down his own mug, clasped his hands together, the knuckles squeezing down onto one another. ‘Last night, you had a job; today, you're here. You must understand why I'm confused.'

‘I still have the job. It isn't far from here – I found it online,' she said, proud of the fact, ‘and it's only five minutes by bus.'

Oh, God, she was moving in!

‘Five minutes… from here,' he said.

‘Gio…'

He stood, paced, raked a hand through his hair. ‘How can you do this to me? You turn up because you have nowhere to live. I can see right through you.'

‘Don't shout at me.'

‘Why did you lie?'

‘I didn't. I just never told you everything. They put the rent up on my bedsit. I could barely afford it as it was. And then I found a job but the landlord wouldn't give me extra time to pay what I owed. They wanted me out. So I found another job here. All I need is a bit of time to gather some money, then I'll be out of your hair; I'll go back up north if that's what you want.'

‘Do not turn this around to be me wanting you to go.' She was good at the guilt trip, he had to hand it to her. Or perhaps Marco was right when he said that Gio had a habit of shouldering the guilt for her regardless of whether he was at fault or not, just because she was their mother.

‘I'm sorry, I know it's a lot to ask. But I mean it, Gio, when I say I'm not drinking. I won't be any trouble. And I'll pull my weight when I'm here. I promise. It won't be for too long. And it'll be good to spend some time with you, if you're not too busy.'

‘Where exactly is the job?' Delivering the question, he did his best to calm down.

It worked. He was relieved when she told him it wasn't at the Whistlestop River Inn but an establishment in the next town. At least if she was to go back to her old ways, it would be one step removed from his local area.

‘And they know you're not from around here?' he asked her.

‘I told them I had lodgings.' She didn't meet his eye.

‘Of course you did.'

‘Gio—'

‘You can't be surprised that I'm pissed off, Mum!'

She said nothing because she knew he was right. Both he and Marco had been there more for her than the other way round. They did it because they loved her, but there were limits, which she continued to push.

Gio swore under his breath and left the room. He was likely to say far too much if he stayed too close to her right now. He stood in the kitchen, arms strained against the sink, angry, upset, worried, everything else their mother's presence brought with it.

When he went back into the lounge, she hadn't moved.

‘I knew you wouldn't be thrilled.' Her voice, quiet, made him feel terrible, guilty. ‘But I was looking online for work and couldn't find much locally and then, I don't know, suddenly, I was looking near here.' She shrugged. ‘I miss you, both my boys; I miss my sons.' And Gio knew that he was the best one to target because Marco might not even let her in the front door of his home in Hampshire.

He almost went to her and hugged her but he couldn't.

‘I'm sorry, Gio.'

‘Do you know how many times I've heard that from you over the years?'

‘The words probably don't sound genuine given how many times I've let you and your brother down. This won't be a second chance for me with you; it'll be a twentieth, thirtieth, I don't know… all I know is that I'd really like this one.'

She was trying, wasn't she? Perhaps this time, it really would be different?

‘Gio, all I want is to get myself going with this job, and like I said, I'll pull my weight. I won't outstay my welcome… or have I done that already?'

‘You haven't.' As hard as he knew this would be, he didn't have it in him to turn her away. He'd never forgive himself. ‘You can stay. A few weeks.'

She smiled and her words rushed at him. ‘Gio, thank you, thank you, you don't know what this means, I'll pay you board?— '

‘No, you won't. You'll save the money to find somewhere else. And after a few weeks, it'll be time to move on.' Not easy unless she had a steady job but perhaps this cleaning gig would turn out to be that. ‘Will you be able to afford it?'

‘I'll manage. Don't you worry about that.'

But he would, he always did.

‘I suppose I'd better think of something for dinner tonight,' he said. ‘Are you still vegan?' She'd turned vegan a few years ago, announced it to him the day he'd turned up at her flat with chicken sandwiches. He'd had to eat all of them himself.

‘I'm not,' she smiled, recognising the olive branch, no matter how temporary, when it was handed to her. ‘And I can cook if you like.'

‘We'll see,' he said.

She looked at her watch, the watch he'd given her a few birthdays ago. She'd sold a lot of her jewellery in tougher times; he supposed he should be grateful that the watch had survived the cull.

‘What time do you start?' he asked her.

‘In a couple of hours.'

He went out to the kitchen, found his spare key and handed it to her. ‘Don't lose it.'

‘I'm not a kid, Gio. I have used keys before.' But her snappish remark softened to, ‘Sorry, that was rude of me.'

‘Look, maybe we should both try and relax a bit while you're here.'

‘I'd like that.'

‘How about I show you the spare room. I'll have to make the bed up.'

‘Thank you, Gio.' She followed after him as he took her bag upstairs .

‘You can unpack things into the drawers, the wardrobe.' He disappeared to get the bedding.

He came back with the duvet cover, pillowcases and sheets and as he made up the bed, she unpacked what little she had. He didn't miss the fraying at the bottom of the pyjamas she folded and put on top of the chest of drawers ready to put under her pillow – she'd always done that; he'd forgotten until now.

When he noticed how threadbare the towel she had was, he went and fetched a couple of fresh towels and left them on the ottoman at the side of the room.

She must've noticed him looking at his own watch this time.

‘When does your shift start?'

‘I'm due in in an hour and a half. I don't usually do shifts so close together but we've got a couple of guys off.' And as much as he needed space from her, it couldn't have happened at a worse time. ‘I'd better get organised. I'll leave you to unpack.'

There was something he really had to do before he so much as contemplated leaving the house or more importantly, the house with his mother in it.

When it was time for Gio to go to work, he picked up his holdall and heaved the heavier-than-usual bag over his shoulder. ‘You know where the bus stop is?'

‘I do. It's left at the end of the road, then left again.'

He couldn't help but smile. ‘Good.'

‘And Gio?' she said before he reached the front door to head to work. ‘Thank you for trying to be discreet by taking away the bottles.'

When he'd left her upstairs earlier, Gio had gone downstairs to the cupboard where he kept his booze. He'd stashed all of it inside the holdall on his shoulder now – as well as a change of clothes and his washbag, there was a bottle of whisky, two bottles of red wine and a six-pack of beers. He'd crammed them in but the noise when he picked up the bag had likely given him away.

‘You can trust me here, I promise,' she said when she got no response.

To be fair, she'd never ever told him she could be trusted before. She'd lied plenty of times and gone back on her word, said sorry, but she'd never made that claim.

‘What time will you be home?' she asked as he stepped out of the front door into the cold October day, unsure whether it really was a good idea to be leaving her here.

‘After you.' A few weeks and that was it. He only hoped they could be civil for all that time, that he wouldn't regret this. ‘Call me if you need anything.'

She rushed to him and hugged him, squeezing tight like a kid clung to their mother's legs when they didn't want them to leave their side. ‘Thank you.' Her words were almost too quiet to hear. ‘Stay safe, my Gio.'

He hugged her back just a moment longer. ‘I'll do my best.'

And then he climbed into the car and drove away.

But he stopped around the corner once he was out of sight. He had to text Marco, who would think he was off his head letting her crash at his place, Marco who wouldn't believe her claims that she was sober and doing her best, Marco who like him, would be wondering how long before this woman who was in AA, who had a job and an income, would fall on her face again.

Usually, it was only a matter of time.

And now, a few days into her stay, Gio was on edge most of the time waiting for things to escalate, for them to have a big bust-up, because that was usually only a matter of time too.