Page 18

Visiting home

My eyes opened on Monday and I was instantly wide awake, worrying about the home visit. I pulled on my dark green dress, after trying on and rejecting nearly everything else in my small collection. I tied half of my hair up and left the rest down in the slight waves caused by my restless night.

Ben knocked quietly on the door as I dared a glance in the mirror.

“How are you feeling?”

he asked, staring at the clothes scattered on the bed.

My reflection looked back at me uneasily. “Nervous. Do I look okay?”

“Now whose fishing?”

I met his smirk with a scowl.

Noting his attempt at humour had gone directly over my head, Ben walked to stand behind me as I stood grimacing at the mirror. I watched as he laced his arms around my waist and pressed his chin down into my shoulder.

“You look perfect,”

he whispered into my ear, brushing my cheek with a kiss. “You’ll do great. Just call me if you need me, okay?”

“Thank you,”

I murmured, flinching as the doorbell rang. Instinctively, I reached for his hand, turning to face him. “What if they don’t like me? What if, without Linda, it’s too much?”

Pain flashed in his eyes, but the door buzzed again.

At first, Linda being busy had seemed easier, but suddenly it felt like a mistake.

“That’s rubbish and you know it, Ivy,”

he insisted, pulling away to answer the door.

I heard him introducing himself formally to Derek in the doorway. I gripped the cool, familiar plastic handle of the crutch hard and swung for the door. Derek looked at me and took a subtle, sharp inhale, prompting Ben to smile at me.

I told you so, he mouthed at me. You’re fine.

“Sorry, I’m not used to that yet. You look really pretty,”

Derek said, almost with pride.

If it wasn’t for the crutch, I think it might have floored me.

Ben handed him my brown satchel. “You want me to walk you down?”

“No, thank you. Have a good day at work,”

I replied, then hesitated, wanting a gust of wind to help get me moving.

Derek gave me a warm smile, and slowly, my legs started to move.

The car ride was slightly tense, but we found some small talk easily enough; Derek seemed nervous too. It was difficult as we pulled up to the house – I hadn’t been back since the attack, and something about the small iron gate put a knot in my stomach.

“Are you okay?”

he asked knowingly as we headed for the little path.

I nodded. Past the iron gate felt like a win, it felt like progress. Susan was at the door waiting, looking as if she was ready to burst into tears already, her face creased and alert. I pushed and swung forwards. The sensation of the crutch handle was grounding. I got to the green front door and she threw her arms around me, taking me by surprise. Luckily, she held me tightly, otherwise I might have fallen.

“Susan!”

Derek scolded crossly from behind.

I stumbled forwards, lifting one arm, clutch hanging, and hugged her back. She squeezed me even tighter until I felt tears roll down my face. They were just there, all of a sudden, with no warning. She pulled back, her own eyes puffy.

“Thank you for coming,”

she said with a strained smile, before leading the way in.

Susan bought me a cup of tea, explaining that she’d added a sugar.

“This will help, tea solves all problems.”

She sat down next to me on the sofa, taking my hands in hers. “How are you?”

Next to the mug was a small bag of Milkybar buttons. I stared at the yellow packaging, fighting to name my swelling emotions.

I took a deep breath, drawing my eyes away. “A bit better, thanks. I’m just trying to take it all one day at a time.”

Susan’s fingers were cold. “Good,”

she replied, tentatively.

Derek sat in the armchair opposite, unzipping his blue fleece and sliding his feet into brown slippers. The house was so homely; red patterned rugs adorned with chunky oak furniture, a brown leather sofa doused in matching fleece blankets. There was a lovely pair of patio doors framing a small but well-kept garden with a rectangular, busy vegetable bed. I drank it all in.

“Do you remember?”

Susan asked, too quickly.

The question cut through me. Linda had told me to be honest; she’d said that Susan would ask me difficult things, but that we had to start from a place of honesty.

“I’m sorry… I don’t. It feels warm, though, cosy. You have a lovely home.”

I drew a shaky breath, analysing her face, waiting for her heart to break.

“It’s okay, I understand, maybe you will one day?”

I let out the breath. “Hopefully.”

She smiled, still clutching my hands in hers. In the corner of the room, I noticed a chunky dresser decorated with an eclectic series of photo frames. There was one of Susan and Derek on what looked like a cruise; Maeve at pre-school; Maeve on a garden swing; Derek, Susan, and Maeve smiling on a beach. It looked like that little girl was about to come bounding out of one of the rooms, teddy in hand, at any moment.

“They bought us comfort,”

Susan explained, following my eyes.

Derek interjected, thankfully. “How’s your leg?”

“On the mend, I think. I’m back at the hospital tomorrow, hopefully to get a smaller cast. It’ll make it a bit easier to get around.”

“How are you managing?”

Susan added.

Without Linda mediating, she was hungry.

“Okay. Ben’s apartment is nice, it has a lovely view over the city.”

I looked to Derek to bring him into the conversation again.

“Ben seems mature; the apartment is very smart.”

“I struggle with silly things, when I sit for too long, my ribs still hurt. I’m hoping soaking in the bath might be easier with less plaster.”

“Is there anything we can do to help?”

Derek asked.

“Not unless you have a very unusually shaped bathtub,”

I said lightly, smiling gratefully.

“How do you not get it wet?”

“I have a plastic stool, so I fill it a few inches and just use the showerhead. It’s workable, but not ideal.”

Derek stroked his beard as Susan asked more questions. I told her about the burnt lasagne, and she suggested we cook something to take back for Ben.

Together, Susan and I started a risotto. She sat me with the vegetables at a dark wooden table in the kitchen. A smoky scent filled the room as she made crispy bacon to mix in at the end, the oil crackling as it fried. The risotto would be chicken and leek flavour, but she said we needed to look after Ben and that men like protein. It was thoughtful and made me smile. Steadily, we began to bounce off each other – Susan was calmer when she was busy.

While the risotto was on the hob, she gave me another sweet tea, sitting down next to me with an old recipe book. She explained it was Ivy’s and had been passed down to her. The pages were crunchy as I turned them carefully, each splattered with splodges of different meals gone by. Her family life sounded idyllic; different memories richly painted for me through the eclectic meals. She became emotional, telling me that her mum and dad had passed away in the last few years. It was a painful thought to think that I’d missed them. I tried not to show the deep root of sadness it planted; Susan didn’t need that. I had to be strong for her.

On the site, there had been no grandparents. Moving away and making your own life when you married was their way of living. The thought of a grandmother cooking with Susan; plaiting hair, hiding Christmas presents… I stopped myself as I felt a tear rise. It was so much; the simplest thought or comment was like opening a door to a cascade of hurt and longing which, once opened, was always ajar. The thoughts of what had been missed, taken, stolen.

She described how her, Derek, and her brother would go round to her mum’s for a roast dinner nearly every weekend. It must have been so hard for them not being able to have their daughter there; to watch her brother bring up his own family. She said her parents were totally in love until the end, joking that her dad was a strong man who spent his days agreeing with his wife and rolling his eyes. I let a picture of them take root in my mind.

When the risotto had soaked up most of the liquid, I used my crutch to come and watch her finish it off, stirring in two cheeses and mixing in the bacon. It looked creamy and delicious as I watched her spoon it into a glass container.

“It smells amazing,”

I said to her, the rich aroma coating the kitchen.

“Let me know what you think.”

“Of course.”

“Would you like me to show you around the rest of the house?”

I bit my lip. “I’m sorry, Susan, I’ve had a lovely time, but the idea of going upstairs feels a bit much today,”

I answered carefully, feeling guilty, but also petrified.

A lot of the old news coverage had been photos of Maeve’s preserved, empty bedroom. Curiosity occasionally got the better of me, but the feeling of failure at the unfamiliarity quicky put it to bed.

“Of course,”

she said, squeezing my arm.

There was a clatter behind us as Derek came in, holding something wooden.

“Your mother had one of those bath trays that you put across the tub. I thought that, if I added some material to it, you could use it to support your leg.”

I looked at the tray. Derek had cut some neat slots in the centre, with a hammock of material laid between. I looked at him, touched by his thoughtfulness.

“That’s… really clever, Derek,”

I murmured, struggling to find volume.

I looked from one of them to the other. Everything they were doing was to be kind; they really did care. They cared about me. They wanted to help me.

Derek swung the contraption so I could see the other side. “It adjusts, see? I put some pegs in, and if you tie the material, it will lift it up and down.”

“It’s really great, Derek. Thank you, truly.”

“Good, I hope it helps. How are you getting to the hospital tomorrow?”

“Linda said she would take me, so that Ben could work.”

“We can take you!”

Susan blurted.

Derek looked annoyed again, as if he was trying to control himself, and resented her impulsiveness.

“I wouldn’t want to put you out.”

“Don’t be ridiculous, we have so much catching-up to do.”

Derek shot her another look.

Susan continued, a little slower. “As and when you’re ready. Derek is right, sorry, love. I’m getting swept away, I know I am.”

I thought for a second, but the answer was easy. “If you don’t mind, that would actually be really nice.”

They both smiled.

IvyMWhite Wow, I can’t believe so many of you have followed me, and thank you for all the comments on my last post! As you may have seen from the photos, I went back to Susan and Derek’s for the first time today. It felt like a big step for all of us, and Susan suggested I share the photo attached. Sitting on their sofa, I found myself staring at all the memories I wish I still carried with me. I wish I could step back and remember everything, especially them, but I can’t, not yet. Although, getting to see their lovely home, getting to spend more time with them, felt amazingly wholesome. I’m looking forward to spending a lot more time there.

IvyMWhite Check this risotto out. Susan is an incredible cook!

IvyMWhite This is me and Lucy – she rightly requested a mention. Lucy stopped at the side of the road when I was totally lost, considering going back, and completely broken. Her unwavering, bold kindness handed me back the first piece of something I needed. A piece that every other piece I’ve placed connects to. So, if you have the chance, be kind – you might just change someone’s life. Thank you, Lucy #BFF