Escape From Evil - Cathy Wilson [45]
In one evening, two months of bliss had been totally destroyed. And all because of me.
EIGHT
This is Normal
I can’t remember if I was fed a sleeping pill or just fell asleep naturally, but the next thing I knew it was morning – and I’d missed registration at school.
That was the difference now: I had places to be. It took me ages to clean up after a visit from the men normally, even when it was only a handful of them. After so many of them, it seemed to go on forever. And then there was Mum to think of. Looking at her, with her silly grin and deep, dark, sunken eyes, just made me never want to leave her side. School? I thought. I can’t go to school. I’ve got too much to take care of here.
But Mum made me go. Sluggish and seemingly out of it as she was, Mum knew I had to go. She didn’t want to talk about the previous night and I was trying desperately to pretend it was all a bad dream, so we had a silent understanding to move on. I hated leaving her, but she always promised she’d be okay. Nine times out of ten she was. Half the time I’d leave her at death’s door and by the time I’d returned she’d disappeared for the night. She obviously had a good recovery system.
I knew Mum was right about going to school. Things were different now. I had a life outside our home. The teachers and my classmates would notice if I weren’t there or I arrived late or dishevelled or showing any of the other side effects of my regular home life. It was a problem. But I knew I had to keep up appearances otherwise I’d be put straight into care again. And that wouldn’t help anyone.
Kids are pretty resilient. That’s what I’ve learnt in forty-odd years. I guess I must have been the same. I’d had an almost euphoric few weeks with just Mum in our wonderful flat – that she owned, not rented – but now we were back in our old routine and I just accepted it. It was as if my brain thought, Okay, that was then, this is now – let’s deal with it.
Mum must have been the same. Again and again I’ve looked back and thought, Why did you stay? Why didn’t you just admit defeat and move in with Granny and Grandpa for a while? But she was too stubborn. Too proud, just like her dad. And, I would later realize, just like me.
Mark and friends were regular visitors again, usually in fours or fives, and I was chief joint roller. No one mentioned the phone call to Granny. No one laid a finger on me, actually. It was as if that nightmare experience had never happened. I made joints, set up the bong, took my pills and disappeared. Mum did whatever she did with them and was either there or not in the morning when I woke up. I’d tidy up and go to school. It really was business as usual for a month or two. Horrible, but bearable. Unpleasant, but normal.
And then, one day, I came home from school and Mum wasn’t there. Nothing out of the ordinary there. I hadn’t seen her the previous day either, but two days was normally her limit, so I got changed and decided to make her a chocolate cake. Granny had helped me buy the ingredients ages ago and I vaguely remembered how to mix it all together. That was going to be my little gift to Mum whenever she came back.
She’ll probably be feeling ill again. This will cheer her up.
An hour or so later I heard footsteps climbing the stairs.
No, it’s too soon! The cake’s not ready yet! Even so, I was ecstatic Mum was back. She’s probably not hungry anyway . . .
When the door opened and Grandpa was standing there, I was taken aback. Apart from visiting shortly after we’d moved in, he hadn’t been round. I wasn’t looking forward to explaining that Mum was out. I knew he didn’t like it when she left me alone and now he could see for himself that she wasn’t at home.
Before I could say anything, though, Grandpa said, ‘Your mother’s quite ill. She’s been taken to hospital.’
Ill? That wasn’t news. She was always ill. I wondered why Grandpa looked so concerned. If she came home I would look after her. Like I always do.
‘Grab your coat, Cathy, and I’ll drive you to visit her.’
Was he serious?
‘I can