News Where You Are

48

Frank had a biscuit with his cup of tea. It was just a plain digestive: there was nothing more interesting on offer.

His mother watched him closely from her high-backed chair. ‘Is that nice?’ She was looking at the biscuit.

‘Yes. It’s quite nice.’

‘Oh, I wish I could eat biscuits.’

‘What’s stopping you?’

‘They’re far too sweet for me.’

‘So you don’t like them.’

‘No,’ she said sadly, ‘never have.’

Frank sipped his tea and decided that the triggers for his mother’s melancholia were infinite. The mere act of watching someone else eat a biscuit was capable of sinking her further into the gloom.

He noticed for the first time that the room had been re-ordered. A pile of books that had sat on the shelf for as long as he could remember had moved. The collection of coats that hung on the back of the door had shrunk down.

She noticed him looking around. ‘Oh, I’ve been having a bit of a sort through. Weeding out the rubbish, you know.’

Frank frowned. ‘You’ve hardly got anything in here anyway — I can’t imagine you had much rubbish.’

‘The clutter mounts up and then sits there collecting dust, adding to the general sense of disrepair and decay.’

Frank looked around at the sunny, pastel-shaded room. His mother could never just say she wanted to tidy up. It was always the ‘d’ words with her: doom and death and decay, like an adolescent locked forever in a gothic phase.

‘Andrea can’t stand clutter. The house move has given her the perfect excuse to purge. I’m scared when I get home each night to see what else will have gone. I think I’ll be next.’

His mother peered at him. ‘You were always a hoarder, Frank. Never threw anything away.’

‘I threw rubbish away, just not things I wanted to keep. Not mementos.’

‘Yes, and everything was a memento for you. Everything reminded you of something. Nothing was allowed to be forgotten. I can’t imagine anything worse.’

Frank shrugged. No matter what her motivation, he was actually pleasantly surprised by his mother’s activity. It was the first time she had shown any interest at all in her surroundings for years. He noticed some fresh flowers in a vase on the window sill.

‘Those are nice,’ he said.

‘Oh those. Yes.’ She showed no sign of volunteering where they’d come from. ‘So, how are the preparations for moving going?’

‘Oh — okay, you know. Mo’s very excited. She’s developed some complicated colour-coded method of packing, but she won’t let us interfere — says she has it all under control.’

Maureen smiled. ‘She’ll be happier in the city I think. She’s too lively to be stuck out in the middle of nowhere.’

‘I think we’ll all be happier. We weren’t really cut out for country life. Well, I wasn’t anyway.’

‘No, not enough clutter in the countryside for you. Not enough mementos of your past.’ She hesitated and then added. ‘I’ve been thinking about your move.’

Frank was surprised to hear this. He had the idea that he and his family didn’t figure much in his mother’s thoughts. She always seemed very vague on the details of their lives. She never knew how old Mo was and still thought Andrea had the job she’d briefly held fifteen years ago. He waited for her to continue, but she said nothing.

‘What were you thinking?’

‘Well, it’s just that it makes this place even more inconvenient for you, doesn’t it?’

It had never occurred to Frank that his mother might worry about such a thing. She spent so much of her time telling him to forget all about her that it was odd to think she might ever fear he actually would.

‘Oh no, honestly, it’s nothing — an extra thirty miles or so. We’ll still come and see you just as much as we do now.’

She looked at her hands. ‘No, I mean I wasn’t worried about that, you know I’d never worry about that. Quite the opposite really. I just think it’s too far, especially for Mo. I really don’t think you should come so often. I mean you’re here once or twice every week, and it just worries me that you’re here that often. You must have better things to do with your time.’

Frank couldn’t quite work out his mother’s tone. She seemed to be taking the usual martyr tack, but there was something different there.

She spoke more quietly now. ‘I mean with you moving away it doesn’t really matter where I am, does it? I’ve no reason to be in this particular location. If I didn’t have to worry about you visiting so often, I could live anywhere I wanted.’

Frank was confused, and didn’t know what his mother wanted him to say. ‘Worry about us visiting? I didn’t realize we caused you worry. That was never the intention.’

‘I didn’t mean it like that exactly. I just mean that I worry that you take too much responsibility for me. I don’t want to be a burden.’

‘And I always tell you that you’re not.’

‘Well, maybe I could be less. This could be an opportunity.’

Frank looked at her. ‘Mom, I’ve no idea what you’re talking about.’

Maureen took a deep breath. ‘Well, the fact is I’ve been thinking that I might like to move too.’

‘Move? What? Back into a flat of your own? Is that a good idea?’

‘No,’ she said impatiently, ‘not a flat of my own. I’ve got no interest in having to cook and clean and worry about all the bills. I mean another residential home.’

Frank was concerned. ‘Is there something happening here? Is there a problem with a member of staff?’

‘No, of course not. I just thought a change of scenery.’

Frank puffed out his cheeks. ‘Well, I think they’re all much of a muchness. I mean we can go back and look at some of the ones we looked at before here, maybe some new ones have opened up since.’

‘I wasn’t thinking of round here. That’s my point. A change of scenery.’

‘Well, where were you thinking?’

‘The south coast …’ She paused. ‘Or the east coast, maybe even the west. Not the north, I couldn’t stand the cold. I think the south might be easiest for you to get to.’

Frank looked at her. ‘The coast?’

‘Yes, Frank, the coast. It’s not so very strange. I’ve always wanted to live by the sea.’

Frank shook his head. ‘Why do people keep saying that? You never told me before.’

‘Oh, I’m sure I did. You probably just weren’t listening.’

‘But it would be an incredible upheaval.’

‘What upheaval? I have two bags, at most. I could do it in a jiffy.’

‘But you’d be totally on your own; you wouldn’t know anyone there.’

Maureen was quiet for a moment before saying, ‘Well, what if I did know someone there? Would you worry less then?’

‘Who would you know, Mom? You’ve lost touch with all your friends.’

‘Well … maybe someone from here is considering a move as well.’

‘Someone from …’ Frank began, but then realized that he knew the answer. ‘Walter?’

His mother looked away. ‘Well, yes, as it happens. It seems Walter is thinking of relocating to the coast as well.’

Frank looked at her for several moments. ‘You and Walter have decided to move to the coast together. Why can’t you just say that?’

‘Oh, Frank, I can’t see that it matters how I say it.’

He couldn’t for the minute even focus on how unlikely the situation was. The idea that his mother had made some positive plans for the future, had embarked upon some kind of a relationship, had shown any interest at all in life, was too big to take in. His immediate response was taken up by his frustration with her.

‘Because … I don’t know, it just doesn’t seem honest. If you and Walter are … friends, well, that’s fine, I’m happy, but why can’t you just say it? Do you think I’m going to disapprove?’

Maureen didn’t answer. She walked over to the window and looked out at the garden. It was a long time before she spoke.

‘I was very proud of your father, you know, when we were first married. I’d talk about him to anyone who’d listen. Talk about him as if he were a possession. “My husband” — well, it suggests ownership, doesn’t it? I didn’t realize then that we don’t own anything, least of all our own good fortune. You’re left feeling very foolish when it slips away.

‘I didn’t make that mistake with you. I never boasted about your achievements. I didn’t want someone up there hearing me and thinking they’d take me down a peg or two. I came to think that it was better to protect yourself by expecting the worst — that way you can build up quite a shell.

‘Like everything else I’ve ever done, I’ve no idea if that was the right or wrong thing to do, but I’m afraid it’s not a very easy habit to break.’ She turned to look at Frank. ‘But I know I’m tired of this place. I don’t want to stay in this room any longer. I need some air. I need to breathe.’