In fact, she had the incredible urge to run, and run and run and not stop. To switch off thoughts and sounds, even Demi who was behind, trying to catch up, calling out her name. And this time, instead of heeding her maternal instinct, the one she’d obeyed for years and years and years, Babs kept on walking.
CHAPTERTWENTY-TWO
When Demi eventually caught up,she pulled Babs to a halt. ‘Mum, MUM!’
Babs turned, reminding herself of a surly child so not adding another fault to the growing list, tilted her head upwards to meet Demi’s eyes.
‘Mum, I’m so sorry. I swear I didn’t mean it in a nasty way, or an insult to you because I think you’re perfect, I really do. Please don’t be angry.’
Babs shook her head. ‘I’m not angry at you, love. I’m annoyed with me.’
‘Oh God, I’ve made everything worse now. Okay, what I should have said is that Dad has got usalltrained, with his chair that nobody is allowed to sit on, like he’s the king on his throne. And the little things bug me, like we can’t have cheesy pasta because the smell makes him sick and if we dare, you go round spraying air freshener like something’s died and rotted under the table.
‘He’s in total charge of the remote and basically watches shite, I mean total mind-numbing crap. About mad old men persuading madder old men to part with junk they’ve had in their garages for 700 years! He sends us to buy you your presents because he “doesn’t know what you like” when actually it’s because his life revolves round football and pool and his mates. And it should revolve round you, Mum. You’re his wife; you should come first, always.’
Ouch!That was all Babs could think and as she reeled from a verbal slap and the bitter taste of home truths, she took both of Demi’s hands, and grappled with how to react to an accurate analysis of home-life.
‘What on earth brought this on? It’s not like you to be so… critical. I hopeI’venot been making you fed up, banging on because it’s all part of married life, and after a while you just get on with it.’
Demi vehemently shook her head. ‘But, Mum, that’s not right. I didn’t really notice or let it get to me so much before lockdown, until we were all stuck inside together. I suppose, it’s because I’m at school, then get on with my homework wherever I can find some peace and quiet, and spend most of my time with earplugs in, mostly to drown out the sound of Sasha. Or I’m out with my friends. I come and go. We all do but the person who’s always there is you. I’ve had time on my hands to think about it all and compare. See how not to end up. And I don’t mean you, either I mean be like Sasha and Isaac.’
Babs was hurting because Demi was, too. But perhaps there was a positive in all of this. Demi was taking stock, learning from mistakes and at least in a warped way it’d make Babs’ cock-ups worthwhile. Then something occurred. ‘What do you mean,compare?’
Demi had the grace to look a bit uncomfortable and then explained. ‘I compared you to my friends’ mums. Lots of them have jobs, but they also do things, you know, by themselves, or just for them but you do everything for us and put yourself at the back of the queue.’
At this Babs relaxed a notch. ‘For a minute I thought you might be ashamed of me…’
Demi didn’t give Babs chance to continue. ‘NO! I’ve never been ashamed of you ever, so don’t think that for a second. I tell everyone what you do, all my friends know and I’m proud of you for earning your own money and running your business. I swear I am. And I’d rather have you any day, over anyone, and that’s God’s honest truth. You’re my rock and I love you.’
Babs gave Demi a squeeze and held tight for a while, smiling when she released her.
‘Well I’m glad to hear it. So basically, me being a pushover is starting to get on your nerves, is that it?’ She received a nod, and reassured Demi with a nudge and wink. ‘Well, here’s the thing, I get on my nerves too, and you’re right, it’s got to stop, and it will. I promise.’
‘Seriously? When, and how?’ Demi didn’t look convinced.
Babs wrapped her arm around Demi’s shoulders as they resumed their walk.
‘I haven’t got a bloody clue, love. It’s a work in progress. But I’m going to start by telling your dad that I’m definitely one hundred per cent not going on holiday with “the gang”. They can sod off. He can go, and you can too. But no way am I sitting on a plane surrounded by God knows who or what, to endure another holiday with that lot.’
Demi stopped, then stared at her mum open mouthed. ‘I thought you liked them!’
‘I do not. They get on my wick. I asked your dad if we could go somewhere on our own, the three of us, and you’d have thought I’d suggested going to a nudist colony or something. Apparently it’d be “boring” with just us… me. That’s what he meant deep down. It’s me he doesn’t really want to be with.’
Saying it, out loud to Demi and the seagulls actually hurt Babs more than she’d expected it to, and that surprised her, that she cared.
Demi responded with a loud tut before falling silent as they continued along the beach, stepping over shallow pools, eventually breaking the silence. ‘That was mean of Dad, and just so you know, if you don’t go, neither will I. The “gang” do my head in too. They’re just a bunch of posers.’
Babs giggled at Demi’s analysis but before she could protest and insist Demi had a holiday, she was hit with a big question.
‘Mum… do you love Dad?’
Demi kept on walking while Babs kept on thinking and then stalled for time. ‘Bloody Nora, you’re not holding back on the deep and meaningful today, are you?’
Demi didn’t respond, and Babs knew she wanted an answer and it had to be the truth. Now was the time.
‘Okay, do I love your dad? Truthfully, yes I do, but in the way you love a friend, someone you’ve known for a very long time. We’re a part of each other’s lives, bound together by you three, a house, a mortgage and a heap of bills and history. We plod along, we get by, we make it work. But it’s not like it used to be and hasn’t been for a long, long time. And that’s sad, and I’m really sorry, because it’s not how I wanted it to be.’
‘Is that what you meant earlier, when you said you were fed up with your life… did you mean Dad, too?’ Demi kept her eyes fixed on her trainers that were speckled with wet sand.
