Cold as Ice

Chapter 7

Tracy walked through the park entrance and saw Danielle standing just inside the gates and texting on her phone. Jackson gave her a smile. Tracy bent down to talk him.

‘Hello, Jackson. Are you warm enough?’ His eyes were watering from the cold. A dog came around from the other side of the buggy and pushed into her. She saved herself from falling backwards by reaching out to put a gloved hand on the railing.

Danielle yanked the dog’s lead. ‘Scruffy, off!’

Tracy stood and smoothed the creases out of her coat whilst Danielle finished her text. Tracy was dressed in a navy double-breasted coat, a red pashmina scarf around her neck. She looked like an air hostess.

‘Sorry, he’s a rescue dog,’ explained Danielle as she put her phone back in her pocket. ‘He wants a lot of attention.’

‘Ah, shame…’ Tracy gave him three pats on the head at arm’s length.

Danielle pulled his lead back around. ‘Scruffy, heel!’

‘How’s Jackson?’

‘Ask him yourself. He’s not stupid.’ Danielle turned the buggy into the park and they walked along the central pathway towards the kids’ playground.

‘Of course. I didn’t mean it like that.’ Tracy was taken aback. They stopped at the lake and Danielle untangled a bag from where it was looped on the top of the buggy.

‘Wait, Jackson.’ He was arching in his seat, trying to get out of the buggy.

‘Undo him for me?’ she said as she untied the bag.

Tracy bent down and fiddled with the clasp holding Jackson in his seat. She finally managed to open it and Jackson rushed forward.

‘Grab him. Before he ends up in the water!’ shouted Danielle.

Tracy made a lunge for Jackson and gripped his hand as they walked towards the edge of the pond. Danielle followed them and gave Jackson a chunk of bread to hold before handing the rest of the bag to Tracy. They hovered near the edge of the pond and ducks descended on them thick and fast in a noisy squabble. Tracy leant over Jackson and held on to him tightly as he shrieked for joy and threw handfuls of bread at the ducks. She laughed at his delight. She turned to see Danielle watching them.

‘What do you want him to call you?’

‘What do you mean?’ Tracy looked at her blankly.

‘Grandma? Granny? What?’

‘Uh… oh… I don’t know,’ she said, shaking her head, shrugging, burying her neck in her pashmina. ‘Tracy will be fine.’

“No it won’t. He wants a granny, not a friend.’ Danielle called Jackson’s name three times to get his attention back to her. He reluctantly turned away from feeding the ducks.

‘Who’s that?’ She pointed to Tracy.

Jackson looked bashful and said: ‘Nanny.’ He gave Danielle a look that betrayed the fact that she had told him to say it.

‘Nanny…?’ Tracy tried not to look offended. ‘As in goat?’

‘Just an idea.’

Danielle answered, hiding a smile as she pushed the empty buggy nearer to them. Tracy tried not to be annoyed or show she was bothered. ‘Shall we take him to the swings?’ she said as she looked down the length of the lake to the playground beyond.

‘Ask him if he wants to go.’ The flash of annoyance came quickly again to Danielle’s face.

Tracy closed her eyes with a sigh. Then she leant down in front of Jackson’s face – eyes wide and smile in place.

‘Jackson? How would you like Tracy – Nanny – to push you on the swings?’

Jackson nodded.

‘Okay then, let’s go.’ Tracy took his hand and they started to walk along beside the lake. Danielle followed, pushing the empty buggy.

Jackson laughed as he skipped and hung on to Tracy’s arm.

‘You’re a heavy little thing.’ She laughed as she did her best to lift him from the floor by his arm.

There were a handful of kids in the playground. Jackson ran excitedly from one apparatus to the other, unable to make up his mind which to go on first. He was followed hotly by Tracy. Finally he settled on his first choice, the swing, and Tracy pushed him while Danielle sat on a bench nearby.

Tracy looked across at Danielle between making woo, woo noises for Jackson to accompany every push of the swing. Danielle was texting. She’d been texting for the last ten minutes.

‘Who’s that? A sweetheart?’ Tracy called over to her.

Danielle looked up from her phone, shook her head and smiled.

‘Just someone on my course.’

‘What course is that?’

‘I’m taking an Access to primary education course so that I can go into teaching. I’m learning about computers as well at the moment. I want to become a special needs teacher. I want to be there for Jackson. I want to give him everything he needs.’

Tracy turned back to push Jackson, who had grown quietly content as he swung back and forth in the air.

‘What about you, Tracy? Any ambitions? Any things you really want to achieve?’

‘Oh, you know… the usual – see the world, first class of course: I’m a bit old to go backpacking now.’

‘No you’re not. I read about it – it’s all the rage, Tracy. Women going off in their forties and fifties to find themselves. Going to Thailand on treks or taking a year to work their way around Asia.’

‘Well I’ll have to wait a few more years then,’ Tracy said.

Danielle laughed. ‘Yeah, I forget you’re just fifteen years older than me. We could be sisters.’

Tracy smiled as she continued pushing Jackson, pleased with the compliment. She had expected a snipe about her ageing looks but was pleasantly surprised when one didn’t materialize.

‘I’d love to go on a cruise,’ she said. ‘That’s more me really than backpacking.’

‘I would love to take Jackson on holiday, anywhere – I don’t mind,’ said Danielle, her face softening, and Tracy thought how pretty she looked today. If only she would make more of herself.

‘Plenty of time yet for that, isn’t there?’ Tracy smiled at her. Danielle nodded, her eyes still focused on some distant dream.

‘Yeah. I suppose he’s young. I’d like to take him places when he’s older. I haven’t done much travelling. The last time I went on holiday was with Mum and Dad; that was the time we began falling out. That’s when the rot set in. Gerald was jealous of the time Mum and I spent just talking; he always wanted to know what we were talking about – as if we were keeping secrets from him – just bollocks really – paranoid, controlling. That holiday marked the beginning of the end for us. What about you?’

‘Oh – I always seem to be busy working and we haven’t really had the money in the last few years. Before that we went to Spain usually, Majorca sometimes.

‘What about work-wise? What about your career?’

‘I pootle along. I’ve always been in the beauty industry one way or another. I used to have my own beauty salon; saw several clients a day – always had my regulars for a wax, for a facial. I like that, looking after people – but, well, it didn’t work out.’ Tracy finished off her sentence with a tight smile. Danielle didn’t ask why. Tracy went back to pushing Jackson. ‘Do you get help from Jackson’s father financially?’

‘Ha! I wouldn’t take it. We’re better off without him.’

‘Still… it’s a lot to manage on your own.’

Danielle didn’t reply to this. She came over and lifted Jackson down from the swing. ‘We have to go now. I’m going to be late for my class otherwise. Jackson’s booked in at the crèche there. He likes it. But I need to give him lunch first.’

‘Oh. Okay. Is it far to go?’

‘No, we’ll go home first. We live just over there.’ Danielle pointed to tower blocks on the edge of the park.

‘Oh… that’s handy. I live in Hornsey.’

‘Yes I know. I looked you up in the phone book. You can come and have a cup of tea with us, Tracy, if you want.’

‘Yes. I’d like that.’ Tracy smiled. ‘Maybe I could look after Jackson for you sometime if you’d like to go out?’ Danielle looked at Tracy. ‘I could do your make-up for you. Style you. I’d like that.’ Danielle didn’t answer. She rolled her eyes and looked away. ‘I don’t mean you’re not a pretty girl,’ Tracy said hurriedly. ‘It’s just something I could do; it’s what I do every day. I make people up. I expect you don’t get out much? I bet you don’t have much chance to find yourself a boyfriend.’

‘So the women you make up – they all look like Barbie dolls?’

‘No, no. Of course I wouldn’t make you look like that.’

‘Like you?’ Danielle smiled at Tracy but she meant to be hurtful.

‘No. As I said—’ Tracy’s tone turned frosty – ‘this look is not for everyone.’ Tracy stared at Danielle as she watched her strap Jackson back into his buggy. She didn’t know her daughter well enough yet to know what to make of her swings between liking and loathing Tracy. She seemed to be still so young, so unforgiving. They would have an uphill battle on their hands if Danielle was determined to harbour so many grudges.

‘Maybe not then. It was just a thought.’ Tracy said sighing.

Danielle glanced up at Tracy apologetically. ‘Sorry – I didn’t mean it. I’m just tired. I would appreciate it if you could babysit for me though, just once in a while. I wouldn’t take the piss.’

‘Of course.’ Tracy recovered her composure. She was used to people talking about her looks when she was behind the counter – especially the young girls that came in. One of them had said she looked like an ageing porn star. Tracy looked on it as her job to wear make-up. They could criticize it all they liked. ‘I’d love to babysit. You’ll have to show me what to do. I’ve never had children.’

‘No. You gave yours away.’ Tracy just looked at Danielle; she didn’t know what to say. Danielle turned away. ‘Come on, Jackson. Let’s show Nanny where we live.’

Tracy was too flustered to know what to reply.

‘What, now?’

She stayed where she was as Danielle started walking away.

‘Yes. You coming, Nanny?’ Danielle pushed Jackson towards the crossing at the traffic lights on Seven Sisters Road.

Tracy looked at her watch as she caught them up.

‘Just for ten minutes then. A quick cup of tea. That will be lovely.’

It was short walk to the block of flats with a parade of shabby shops with reinforced shutters on their windows that made them look shut when they weren’t. Tracy had never been inside a tower block before. She’s been to high-rise hotels in Spain. This was nothing like that.

The lift was out of order, so Tracy helped Danielle with the buggy up the flights of stairs. Jackson got out and walked, holding Tracy’s hand.

‘I must be so unfit.’ Despite the cold Tracy felt herself beginning to perspire beneath her coat. ‘I need to get to the gym. I can’t remember the last time I did any exercise. We used to go regularly, me and Steve. We couldn’t keep up with the membership in the end. Still, no excuse. Back to the gym for me. I’ll have to get fit if I’m going to chase after Jackson. Hey, scallywag?’ Tracy smoothed Jackson’s hair to one side.

‘Here we are.’ Danielle ruffled his hair back into peaks.

Leaving the stairwell at the third floor they walked along the landing until they came to a pink door. Number 372. It would be easy for Tracy to remember. She was good with numbers. She could always remember exactly how much stock was left of every product on the counter. She knew the serial numbers of each product. She knew the lipstick colours by their codes.

‘What’s happened here?’ she asked, looking at the dents in the metal plate that was put on to reinforce the door.

‘Someone tried to break in,’ Danielle said. Tracy opened her mouth to say something but then shut it and didn’t say anything. She waited while Danielle found her key and unlocked locks top and bottom, then pushed the door back until it jammed on the wood laminate flooring. Jackson ran in, excited. Scruffy followed.

Danielle folded and rested the buggy against the wall in the hallway and walked through to the kitchen on the right.

‘What a lovely place. You’ve done a good job with the decoration,’ said Tracy. Danielle’s place looked like it had come out of a back issue of the Ikea catalogue.

‘Thanks. Tea or coffee?’

‘Tea will be fine.’

Tracy took off her coat and put it over the buggy – she couldn’t see where else she should put it – then she stood in the kitchen doorway. Jackson’s drawings were everywhere. Danielle saw Tracy looking at them.

‘It’s hard to throw any of them away.’ She smiled, embarrassed but proud as well.

‘They’re lovely colours. Can you tell what they are?’

‘Of course!’

‘Can you really?’ Tracy peered at the pictures.

Danielle pointed to a long shape with four sticks coming from it. ‘Look, there’s Scruffy. That’s me, you can see by the hair,’ she added, pointing to a blob with brown on top. Tracy peered in to get a closer look at the picture.

‘Oh yes, I see it now.’

‘I know.’ Danielle laughed. ‘It’s an acquired skill. He’s very good for his age actually. He’s able to go to an ordinary school… for now anyway. Does anyone else in the family have Down’s syndrome?’

Tracy was taken aback. She shook her head. ‘I don’t think so.’

‘What family have I got anyway?’

Tracy couldn’t hide it as a look of panic took hold. She hadn’t thought of that – the implications of meeting up with her daughter and the fact that it affected more than just her. What if Danielle made a nuisance of herself?

‘It’s all right – I don’t intend to contact people.’ Danielle turned away and finished making the tea. Tracy instantly regretted her reaction. It was as if Danielle had read her mind.

‘No. I mean I am sure that, given time, everyone will want to meet you.’ She could see by Danielle’s demeanour that she was brittle and trying not to show how much Tracy’s negative reactions mattered as she poured away a little of the hot tea from each cup and topped up with cold water. Tracy watched her, mesmerized. She wanted to say: ‘I always do that. I always top up the tea with cold.’

‘Um – you have an aunt. My sister Julie and her husband Nigel. They live in Manchester. They have three children all older than you. They have five kids between them. So Jackson has a few cousins.’ Tracy smiled broadly, trying to make things better.

‘My first cousins. They are his second cousins,’ Danielle corrected.

‘Yes.’ Tracy stood corrected.

‘Do they look like me?’

Tracy thought about it and shrugged ‘Maybe… I’m not sure. Oh, I forgot.’ She went out to her bag by her coat and came back into the kitchen with an envelope. ‘I brought you a photo of me to show you.’

She took out a small handful of different-sized photos and came to stand next to Danielle. With the photos was a small box.

‘Before I show you the photos I want to give you this.’ She opened the box to show Danielle. ‘This is for you. I got it when I was ten.’ She took out a silver charm bracelet from the box. ‘I added to it every year. I would like you to have it.’ She held it out for Danielle to take it. ‘Charm bracelets have come back in, haven’t they? Each one of those charms means something to me.’ Danielle held the tiny charms between finger and thumb as she examined each one. ‘That London bus I got when I passed my driving licence so I wouldn’t need to take a bus again – that’s when I was seventeen. The ballet shoe I got when I passed my exams at eleven. This Mickey Mouse my parents got me when I was twelve. Oh, my whole life is here.’ She smiled, delighted to see Danielle’s reaction. ‘You are here too. I bought this silver heart when I became pregnant with you.’ Danielle couldn’t look at Tracy. ‘I don’t have much else to pass on to you.’

‘Tracy. I’m so… well, I’m touched. Thank you. I’ll wear it now.’ Danielle put it round her wrist. Tracy did it up for her.

‘Don’t lose it, mind.’ Tracy smiled. She wanted to kiss Danielle’s cheek but she didn’t. Instead she passed her the first photo. ‘I’ve just got a few I thought you might like to see. I don’t want to bore you. This was the year I fell pregnant with you.’

Danielle held the photo closely. ‘Oh my God – you were a child.’

‘Yes – I suppose I was.’

‘You look so young.’ She looked at the photo of Tracy in her school uniform.

‘I was fifteen – I guess that’s young. I didn’t feel it at the time.’ Danielle didn’t look at Tracy and she took out the next photo. ‘Here’s a photo of me and my parents, your grandparents and there’s Julie.’

Danielle laughed. ‘You can see you’re the rebel. Look at Julie. Her socks are pulled up, her skirt is under her knee and look at you!’

Tracy laughed too. ‘I was always in trouble for hitching my skirt up, rolling it up at the waist. Those were the days.’

‘You’re not old, Tracy. You could still wear a miniskirt if you wanted.’

‘I suppose not but I could do with getting back into shape.’ She passed another photo over. It was of a school football team. ‘Which one do you think he is?’ Tracy beamed as she watched Danielle’s face light up.

‘What do you mean? Is my dad in this photo?’

Tracy nodded; she could hear the excitement in Danielle’s voice as she held it close.

‘Him.’

She pointed to a boy on the left of centre. Tracy nodded again. ‘That’s who you look like, isn’t it?’

She could see Danielle’s eyes welling up. Danielle turned away and wiped her eyes with her sleeve as she took a sip of her tea.

‘Where is he now?’

Tracy shook her head. ‘I haven’t seen him since I was about your age. He married someone and they moved away. You could probably find him as well if you wanted.’

Danielle thought about it.

‘Maybe. But I think you’re enough for now.’

She stared blankly at Tracy, who was frowning and obviously trying to understand what she meant by that; Danielle grinned. Tracy laughed then smiled.

‘It’s funny how you remind me of him. It’s the way you smile.’ She picked up the football team photo and her eyes focused in and melted as her mind spiralled back to that summer of love.

‘So I ruined your life.’ Danielle watched Tracy.

Tracy looked up from her memories and shook her head. ‘No. You could have been the making of me. Of him, maybe. I should have kept you. I should have followed my heart. I nursed you for a few days before I gave you up. I was so tired and there was so much pressure, but when you’d gone, my whole body yearned for you. I couldn’t hear a baby cry in the street without my milk rushing into my breasts. I couldn’t pass a little girl in the street without wondering if it was you. On your birthday, March the twenty-seventh, I always have a little cry. So many regrets, Danielle. Now, to find out that my sacrifice wasn’t worth it, that the couple who I gave you to didn’t deserve you – it breaks my heart.’ Tracy turned away as she felt herself crumble. ‘Oh God,’ she said, ‘how pathetic I am. Sorry I didn’t mean to get upset.’

Danielle shook her head. ‘It’s all right, Tracy. You did what you thought was best, what others thought was best for you.’

Tracy dabbed at her eyes and the tissue was streaked with make-up. ‘What was it really like, living with them – the Fosters?’

‘The early years were wonderful. It was when I hit adolescence that everything went wrong. Gerald, especially, just couldn’t have found it more difficult. I think he hadn’t thought it through. He wanted me to be a child for ever. He never bought into the whole teenage girl thing.’

Tracy shook her head, still trying to stop her makeup from melting. ‘What do you mean?’

‘He got nasty with me. He just couldn’t hack the hormones. I was moody, difficult – typical teenage girl, I suppose. I think my self-esteem hit rock bottom. I rebelled against everything and anything. I thought I was being clever but looking back – it was stupid. I started missing school, hung about with the wrong types. Before long I had gone too far to recover. I had thought that I would still be able to pass my exams even though I didn’t work. People had always told me how bright I was. But I didn’t go to the lessons and I failed. I started taking stuff. I met Jackson’s father that way. I thought he was really cool, but he was a real loser. He sold drugs to kids. He hit me when he felt in a bad mood, plus he was never faithful. My mum got ill and my dad wouldn’t let me help. I was so angry and I hated him. He tried to keep me away from her. When I got pregnant at seventeen it was the perfect excuse to chuck me out.’

‘Didn’t Marion stop him?’

‘She tried. I remember her crying and pleading but he just stood there glaring at me; he really hated me by that time. Social Services became involved. They said I was better off moving out. They fixed me up with a flat and I moved in with Jackson’s dad, Niall. But Niall didn’t want us. He just wanted the flat so he could do his deals from it. I didn’t really care until Jackson was born and then I saw Niall was never going to change and suddenly everything became clear to me and nothing mattered but Jackson.’

‘Is that why you got in touch with me?’

‘I suppose it is.’

‘What do you want to happen between us? What do you want from me?’ Tracy had rehearsed what she was going to say many times in the last week. None of those times had it come out like that.

Danielle shook her head. She looked up, angry. ‘I don’t want anything.’

‘You must have had something in mind?’ Tracy replied, trying to keep her voice soft, low. She knew it would rise and become panicky if she didn’t watch it.

‘I just need you to promise something.’ Tracy waited. Danielle’s eyes softened. ‘I need you to promise to take care of Jackson if anything happens to me. I haven’t got anyone else. You’re his granny. You have to do it.’ Tracy stood blinking at Danielle, her shoulders raised, her eyes frightened. She didn’t answer.

‘My friend went missing from my course. She just disappeared; flipped, I suppose. She left a child alone, a little girl called Sky, but she had her parents to rely on. They’re looking after Sky now. I thought, who has Jackson got? I know it sounds silly. I know it sounds like I’m thinking too hard about some stuff but I reckon if you put a Plan B in place hopefully you’ll never have to use it.’ She turned to Tracy. ‘You are my Plan B, Tracy.’

The man made his way along the busy streets and hurried to his home. Fumbling with the keys he closed the door behind him and stood listening. In the gloom his eyes shone and his heart quickened. His senses heightened. He walked slowly down the hallway, tilting his head to listen as he did so, and then up the stairs to the top landing. At the end of the landing, he stopped by a door on his left and smiled as he closed his eyes and breathed in the smell deeply through his nose. A buzzing fly interrupted his thoughts as he opened his eyes just a fraction and watched it. It landed on the doorframe and his hand, fast as a chameleon’s tongue, squashed it flat. He looked at the mess on his hand.

From behind the door someone groaned. He wiped his hand on his chest then he squeezed and turned the doorknob. He flicked on a light switch and an old chandelier flickered into meagre life. The room was filled with more shadows than light. The smell of decay hit him. It was a sweet perfume to his nose. Music started as he opened the door. A violin solo, melancholy at first and then growing in tempo. The woman’s crying just audible with the violin. He spun and danced as he waltzed his way towards her. She turned her body from him, her knees tucked up against her chest, whimpering. She was skeletal. Around the room were photos of emaciated women in bikinis. He pulled her up from the floor as she cried in pain and he held her to him as he twirled her round the room. He danced as she cried in his arms.