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Authors: Hilary Boyd

Thursdays in the Park (11 page)

BOOK: Thursdays in the Park
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‘Should I have let him?’ This was the question that had tormented her all night. ‘If I had, maybe it’d simplify things . . . get us back on track.’

Rita took a long slug of water from the bottle she carried, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. Even at short notice she looked immaculate in tight grey tracksuit bottoms and a pink lycra vest.

‘If it felt wrong, it was wrong. End of.’

‘That simple? Can we sit down for a moment?’ Jeanie
suddenly felt faint. The bench was damp and she wondered fleetingly if it had rained in the night.

‘This is really getting to you.’ Rita eyed her friend with concern as she brushed a twist of cellophane fastidiously off the seat before sitting down. ‘It wasn’t about Park Man last night, was it? You comparing them?’

She considered this. ‘It didn’t seem so at the time. It seemed like an attack I was fending off.’

Rita raised her eyebrows.

‘I know, it’s George we’re talking about, but you didn’t see him, Rita, he was in a frenzy.’

‘Of desire?’

‘Not really . . . more desperation.’

‘Not a good look. But Jeanie, what do you feel for George? Do you still find him attractive? Did you feel any desire when he kissed you?’

She shook her head. ‘I used to, but I’ve stopped thinking of him in that way. And last night he didn’t give me a chance to feel anything.’

‘Except anger. So what did he say this morning?’

‘I didn’t wait. I couldn’t face him.’

‘Oh, darling.’ Rita saw the tears almost before Jeanie was aware of them. ‘Are you going to talk to him about it?’

‘I don’t see the point.’

‘What, so you’ll just go on as you were, as if nothing’s happened?’ Rita’s look was incredulous.

‘What else can I do, Rita, if he won’t
talk
to me?’ Jeanie snapped.

‘OK, OK, don’t get shirty.’

‘Sorry, but you don’t understand. You’d never get yourself into this ridiculous situation in the first place.’

Rita’s silence seemed to confirm this.

‘And Park Man?’

Something softened in Jeanie at the thought of Ray, and the hold she had kept on herself since George’s attack seemed to fall away.

‘He’s separate from all this, Rita . . . he’s just Ray.’

Her friend looked sceptical, taking another long swig from her water bottle, wiping the neck and offering it to Jeanie.

‘Do you still have sex with Bill?’ She suddenly wanted to know that the rest of the world functioned normally.

Rita laughed. ‘It’s not love’s young dream, but yes, it’s fun with Bill, we know what each other likes . . . and we find ways to rev it up, watch porn sometimes.’

Jeanie’s eyes widened. ‘Porn?’

‘Don’t look so shocked. You should try it, it’s hilarious.’

She tried to imagine her and George, but failed.

‘So will you meet Ray again?’

‘I . . . seeing him seems both stupid and essential, and not seeing him the same.’

Rita stood up. ‘Come on, this discussion is getting uncomfortably circular, you need to walk them both off.’

11
 

‘Hi, darling, what’s up?’ Jeanie took her daughter’s call as she balanced on a ladder, stacking the shelves above the shop’s chill cabinet with surplus stock. It had been a frantic week in the shop following her birthday, Jola convinced that the sudden hot weather was making everyone self-conscious about their exposed bodies. Goji juice, anti-cellulite supplements, prunes, alfalfa, bran and salad vegetables had all been in high demand.

‘Can you come over as soon as you’ve finished work?’

Her daughter sounded unusually clipped and tense. She wondered if Alex was playing up again.

‘Is something the matter? Is Ellie OK?’

‘Can’t talk now.’

‘OK, see you later. Oh, Chanty, shall I bring Dad?’

‘No.’ She sounded almost panicky. ‘No, come on your own.’

She snapped her phone shut, checking her watch. It was only ten minutes till closing.

‘Afternoon, Jean.’ A plump, middle-aged woman in a large sun hat was peering up at her.

‘Hi, Margot, what can I do for you?’ She groaned inwardly as she came down the ladder, knowing she would be expected to listen for hours to a litany of Margot’s ailments, from stiff knees to itchy patches to bloating. She must have tried every supplement under the sun over the years, but never for enough time to see any benefit, and now she’d be wanting to discuss the latest miracle cure she’d read about in the press.

Margot was fanning her face with the local newspaper. ‘Well . . . I spotted this new research.’ She was off.

‘I’m afraid I don’t have much time today, Margot, I’ve got to close up in a minute and I have to do the till.’

Margot looked crestfallen and glanced rather pointedly at the clock on the wall behind the counter.

‘My granddaughter . . . I have to go round. Can you come back tomorrow?’

Margot made a play of considering this.

‘I suppose so . . . no, no, you get off, dear, I know what it’s like with the wee ones.’

Chanty and Alex were edgy.

‘Where’s Ellie?’ It was only six-thirty.

‘We put her to bed a bit early, we didn’t want her hearing this,’ Chanty replied ominously.

The three of them stood about awkwardly in the sitting room.

‘What’s going on?’ Jeanie’s heart was racing.

She saw her daughter’s mouth twist. ‘Mum, this is difficult . . .’ She glanced at her husband, but Alex was just staring into space, propped, as always, against the mantelpiece, standing on one leg and rubbing one bare foot along the arch of the other.

‘It’s about Ellie . . . she’s been talking about a man . . .’

No, thought Jeanie, looking immediately at Alex, who refused to meet her eye. She waited.

‘She says this man, she calls him ‘Way’, holds her on his knee. . . touches her.’

Jeanie thought she would explode. She sat down hard on the sofa. ‘I don’t believe this,’ she stated coldly.

She saw shock register on her daughter’s features. ‘Mum?’

‘It’s lies,’ Jeanie said flatly.

‘Mum . . . it’s Ellie who said it. Are you saying you don’t believe your own granddaughter?’

‘Did she tell you this herself?’ she asked quietly.

‘No, she told Alex.’

‘Right.’ She took a couple of deep breaths because she knew she was on the verge of saying things that would never be forgotten.

‘Obviously we’re worried sick. Alex said that you and this man, Ray, have been meeting in the park.’

‘Have
you
heard it from Ellie?’ Jeanie interrupted.

She could see Chanty got it at once, and she watched her daughter’s face harden.

‘I’m not going to ask a two-year-old child to repeat something
as upsetting as that. Are you suggesting Alex’s made this up?’

‘I’m suggesting he’s mistaken.’ Her words were slow and wooden with control. ‘Alex?’

Alex moved. Jeanie thought he was finding his position in front of them too prominent, and he went to sit on the arm of Chanty’s chair, behind his wife. ‘I know what she said.’

‘Which was what? Tell me exactly what Ellie said.’ She knew her voice was threatening, but she didn’t care.

Her son-in-law harrumphed. ‘What Chant just said, that Ray took her on his knee and touched her.’

‘Ellie said that? You are totally certain that she said that?’

Alex nodded, looked away. ‘Not those exact words, I can’t remember precisely, but the gist . . .’

Jeanie turned to her daughter, wondering how she couldn’t see that her husband was lying through his teeth. ‘I will say this only once.’ She looked Chanty absolutely straight in the eye, and knew that her own would be sparking blue and intense in their need to communicate the truth.

‘I have never . . . once . . . on any occasion whatsoever, let Ellie out of my sight when she’s in my care. And never once has Ray, to my absolute knowledge, so much as laid a finger on her. Not once, not ever, not held her hand, or picked her up or lifted her into the swing, barely even spoken to her except to say hi and bye and hand her an apple juice carton. Never, nothing.’

She took a breath. ‘What’s more,’ she appealed to Chanty,
who sat stony-faced as her mother talked, ‘you must know that every cell in my body is devoted to Ellie, that I would happily lay down my life to protect her from any harm, however slight. So I don’t see how you can possibly believe that I would allow a situation to occur where a stranger could molest my own granddaughter in my presence.’

Chanty took a long breath. ‘We weren’t saying “molest” . . .’ The look she gave her husband now was uncertain, bewildered.

‘Yes . . . you were saying “molest”. That’s exactly what you were saying.’

‘Mum . . . you must admit, it’s worrying. I was frantic when Alex told me. These things happen without people seeing.’

‘Nothing happened and I am not “people”. I am your mother and Ellie’s grandmother.’

‘I know, Mum, and I do trust you. It’s other people I don’t trust. And it’s easy for a situation to happen when you, say, go to the loo, or get a drink, and it happens when your back is turned, even for a moment. You might not be aware that you’re doing it.’ She looked at Jeanie questioningly.

‘I’m not senile, for God’s sake! I can still manage to track my own movements.’ So that was it: they thought she was a dotty, incompetent old bat. ‘None of those scenarios have taken place. I repeat, I have never, and would never, leave her with anyone to do anything at all, not even for a second. I just wouldn’t. I’m far more paranoid than you are.’

Chanty looked as if she wanted to believe her. ‘Maybe Alex got the wrong end of the stick . . .’

‘I heard what I heard,’ he repeated sullenly, but there was no conviction in his words.

‘I just don’t know why Ellie would say something like that if it didn’t happen,’ Chanty went on.

‘Nor do I.’ Jeanie looked pointedly at Alex. She sighed. ‘Look, I can see why you’d be worried, darling, but whatever Ellie was talking about, it didn’t happen on my watch.’

‘Anyway, who is this man?’ her daughter wanted to know.

‘He runs an aikido school at Archway. He looks after his grandson on Thursday afternoons for his daughter. From what I can see he’s an entirely decent human being. The children play together.’

She said no more, hoping it would be enough. What she was doing with Ray might be wrong, but it was a separate issue. She knew her cheeks were flaming, but it was from anger rather than guilt.

‘Well . . . I’d rather you didn’t hang out with him when you’ve got Ellie from now on, just the same.’ Chanty’s tone was preachy, that of a schoolmarm berating a wayward pupil. Jeanie’s hackles rose.

‘If you don’t trust me, Chanty, then I won’t look after Ellie at all. I don’t want you worrying every time I step outside the front door.’

She watched Alex, waiting for him to meet her eye. Why was he doing this? Couldn’t he work out it wouldn’t benefit him to lose even one afternoon’s childcare?

‘Alex?’ Chanty had finally decided her husband should share the responsibility.

‘I’m sure Jean has Ell’s best interests at heart, but I would feel more comfortable if I knew this Ray man was nowhere near my daughter,’ he pronounced rather smugly.

‘He . . . hasn’t . . . touched her. Haven’t you listened to a word I’ve said?’ Jeanie heard her voice rising and knew she had reached tipping point. She rose to go.

‘Even so,’ he added, ‘you know nothing about him.’

Chanty also got to her feet. ‘I’m sure you can see our point, Mum.’

Jeanie reached to give her daughter a formal kiss. ‘If you don’t trust me, you shouldn’t let me loose with your daughter,’ she repeated.

‘Mum, I’ve said, of course we trust you, don’t we, Alex?’

She saw him nod.

‘Please don’t let this be an issue between us. I had to find out what was going on.’

Jeanie looked hard at them both. ‘And do you believe me when I tell you that Ray has never touched Ellie, even appropriately? Promise me you’re not even thinking of taking this any further.’

They both nodded, but it was equivocal. She could tell her daughter was still uncertain what she should think.

‘Please don’t tell Dad, it’ll only worry him.’ Chanty lowered her voice as she escorted Jeanie to the door. And it was only then that Jeanie knew that Chanty had misgivings about Alex’s account.

 

That Thursday, Jeanie took her granddaughter to a different park, one the other side of Crouch End. She didn’t tell Ray; she didn’t know what to say. ‘We can’t meet, my family thinks you’re a paedophile.’ How could you say that to anyone? She knew, however, that their short liaison had to end. If it could threaten her relationship with her daughter, stop her seeing her beloved granddaughter, jeopardize Ray’s life and career, it couldn’t be worth it. She still shook with anger when she pictured Alex’s guilty face, worrying that she hadn’t done enough to convince them. She wanted to talk to Ray about it, but not only was she hotly embarrassed by her relatives’ behaviour, she also knew that if she spoke to him, if she heard his voice, she would weaken. She had to make the family her priority.

‘Baa baa black sheep, have you any wool?’ she began as they walked down Hornsey Lane in the hot May sunshine, waiting for Ellie to join in. ‘. . . One for the monster and one for the day,’ the child sang, her sun hat bobbing from side to side, ‘and one for the likul boy who live downa lay . . .’ and Jeanie just smiled with pleasure, having no desire in the world to correct her.

BOOK: Thursdays in the Park
10.77Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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