Hard to Love Read online

  ‘I know,’ he replied, looking embarrassed.

  ‘She thinks because Calum and I were brought up by a white woman, we’re not really black. How much of a crock of shit is that?’ Mabel breathed in deeply, trying not to get riled. ‘My children are black because of the link to you but no, not I, even though they are lighter skinned. I swear your mother is the reincarnation of Hitler gone around the bend.’ She laughed to herself. ‘If you’re not proper black, in you go to the gas chamber.’

  ‘Mabel, I need a favour.’

  ‘What?’

  She was dreading he was going to ask to move back in so she could nurse him again, only for him to up and leave.

  That would be the last straw.

  ‘When I have the operation, will you come with me?’

  ‘Me?’ Mabel said out very loudly and noticed he looked startled. ‘Why would you want me there?’

  ‘Because I don’t want mum taking over. She used to be a nurse so she’ll start bossing everyone about, like she did when I had cancer.’

  ‘What about your wife?’

  ‘I’ve not told her.’

  ‘You’re shitting me!’ gasped Mabel, putting her tea cup down.

  ‘Tafari doesn’t cope well will things like that.’

  Mabel stared at him, completely dumbfounded by his explanation.

  ‘And I do?’ she replied, getting agitated. ‘I’m not your wife. It’s her responsibility to stand by your side, not mine. The only link we have are the children. You’re asking too much, once again.’

  She watched Wes twitch before sitting forward.

  ‘When I was ill, and you looked after me, I wasn’t thinking straight. You were like my nurse, and I needed a friend. Tafari was there.’ He smiled, and all Mabel could feel was an internal rage. ‘We got on so well.’

  ‘You had a baby without consummating the relationship and told me you’re going to set up home.’ She felt the bile rise to her throat but swallowed hard. ‘Then you say you want me to take you back and I refuse. To be honest Wes, you’re her responsibility, not mine.’ She got to her feet. ‘If you don’t want to tell her then you can fuck right off!’

  ‘Mabel,’ he said calmly. ‘You don’t have to be like that.’

  ‘Wesley,’ she said, glaring at him. ‘Don’t use me again. You were ill and romanced her behind my back; making plans to get the IVF done in a private clinic while I was trying to keep our home together. The kids were beyond worry but what did you care? As long as you had a focus, a future, then that’s all that mattered.’ Mabel grabbed her coat and bag. ‘The thing is, now you’re ill again, you come running to me. Not this time. I did it once, and I’m not doing it again.’

  She marched out of the house, slamming the door.

  Infuriated by his request, she realised he would rather put her through the stress than to upset his African, grumpy, brown, giant of a princess.

  Once again, Mabel felt her emotions were being rinsed by Wes.

  ‘You were talking to them about it?’

  Joanna was sitting behind her desk in work as Mabel pretended to show her something on the laptop so she could whisper. ‘And my granddaughters admitted they don’t life Tafari?’

  ‘Mum,’ she said under her breath. ‘From what they said, one day a fortnight would be preferable.’

  ‘What’s going on with Wes?’

  ‘He needs my help on something,’ she said, biting hard on her lip.

  ‘I always thought agreeing to two days every fortnight was a little excessive,’ her mum frowned, folding her hands on the desk. ‘There was always going to be a problem with readjustment.’

  ‘If I ask Wes then he’ll probably want something in return.’

  Mabel knew it would be accompanying him to the hospital against her better judgement.

  ‘There’s something else, isn’t there?’ Joanna got up and pulled a chair closer. ‘You can tell me.’

  ‘Nothing,’ she shrugged, glancing out to see who was watching. ‘I should speak to Wes, face to face, and say something. I won’t get the solicitors involved and we can come to some agreement.’

  ‘I bet his woman would be delighted,’ Joanna said with a scowl. ‘She can force him into having another child.’ Then she smirked. ‘Do you think they’ve ever had sex?’

  ‘What a thing to ask?’ Mabel said, often wondering the same thing.

  ‘You told me he couldn’t get it up.’

  ‘Mother!’ she hissed, glaring at the mischievous woman smiling back.

  ‘And your father was a rather sexual animal. I’m sure it runs in the genes, which means you’re probably a prowess.’

  Mabel’s mouth dropped open at the comment.

  ‘Don’t give me that innocent look! I know what you were like before you met Wes. You had such fun! I was so proud when you were sewing your wild oats!’

  ‘Is there nothing off the radar with you?’ she asked, putting her head in her hands. ‘Anyway, that doesn’t say much. Wes still went off with the grumpy, ugly giant.’

  ‘She’s manlier than Wes!’

  ‘Stop it!’ Mabel started to laugh. ‘As long as he doesn’t upset the girls, that’s all I care about.’

  ‘Baba.’

  The former mother in law was standing on her doorstep. She was nearly as wide as it, all her fat going to her hips and backside over the years. Wearing the brightest neon blue piece suit, courtesy of going to church that morning, she sneered at Mabel. The only time Mabel ever wanted to see her again was at a funeral – Baba’s. The woman had been gracious enough never to come to her door when dropping off the girls. ‘What are you doing here?’

  ‘I wanted to see you.’

  ‘Why?’ Mabel rolled her eyes and wiped her hands on the tea towel. ‘The kids are coming back in an hour.’

  ‘I know,’ she replied, barging past and walking in.

  Mabel took a deep breath before turning to look at her.

  ‘You shouldn’t be here,’ she said calmly, noticing Baba was eyeing up her house.

  ‘We need to talk.’

  Baba was just over five feet tall and for someone so small, she could certainly dominate any space, mostly because she was a large one herself. Over the years she had got wider and wider, but still she told everyone her cholesterol and blood pressure were low, her heart incredibly strong.

  In her defence, she had never been ill.

  If she had, she certainly wasn’t going to say.

  In her late seventies, she looked as strong as an overweight ox and was now giving Mabel a deadly glare. Sierra Leone was her birthplace, and she came over to England when she was a child. Marrying a Jamaican, who she said was the closest to being of African heritage, she had two boys and one girl. Wes being the oldest.

  ‘A mother’s love for a son hold no bounds,’ she said, with a smug expression. Mabel knew it was a dig at her because of Lottie and Jess. ‘You would do anything for them.’

  ‘I have to go to the shops so make it quick.’

  ‘Wes mentioned you sent an email saying the girls want to spend less time with him,’ she said in an accusing manner, her African accent never fading after six decades. ‘Don’t you think you are taking advantage of the situation?’

  Mabel hung up the tea towel and walked towards her coat and handbag.

  She knew the woman was spooling for a fight.

  ‘My children never told me how unhappy they felt. They didn’t want to upset their dad. Tafari never disguised how inconvenient it was for them to be there. They only said Wes would often take them out, so Tafari could lavish attention on your fat and ugly grandson.’

  ‘How dare you say that about Edward? He is beautiful!’

  ‘He is not!’ Mabel grinned at the annoyed woman. ‘The girls can spend more time with their dad if they wish. But they are getting older and want to do their own thing. When you love your children, regardless of what sex, you would do anything for them. All things considered Baba; I’ve been exceptionally well behaved towards your two
-timing, deceitful, son of a bitch, eldest boy.’

  The gasp was extremely dramatic as Baba grabbed her chest, acting out as if something had damaged her heart.

  ‘And if you’re going to drop down dead, please do it outside my home.’

  ‘You are such a flighty madam!’ barked Baba, coming closer to her. ‘That is a bad upbringing from a white woman who does not know any better!’

  ‘That’s my mother you’re talking about!’ she snapped, turning to look at Baba. ‘She did the most amazing thing by adopting us; taking on another woman’s children. Joanna’s a better person than you could ever be!’

  This was the first time she saw Baba looked genuinely shocked.

  Mabel was shaking with rage.

  She had waited years to put Baba straight on a few things.

  Right now, she was on a roll.

  ‘My mother is the one who had the money. She is well off and my home, you so clearly thought Wes was entitled to have half of, is down to her sorting out the mortgage, and giving me the deposit. Wes had no cash to do that.’

  ‘I see you have become bitter and twisted in your old age. That’s because no man will ever want you.’

  ‘And who want’s you, you dried up old prune?’ she replied, knowing it was wrong but still loving the feeling of saying it. ‘Your husband died so young, probably to get away from you! I feel sorry for Wes moving back in. There’s part of me considering letting him stay in the shed.’

  ‘My son stays with me! I don’t want you trying to get your claws back into him.’

  ‘The only thing I want to stick in him is a six-foot pole up his arse!’

  ‘He had prostate cancer! How can you say that?’

  ‘Because I had to wipe up all his mess and that’s where the pole deserves to go.’ Seeing Baba looked like she was going to combust with rage, Mabel walked to the door and held it wide open. ‘You see, you were lucky the princess came and took your son away. And look how bloody happy he is now?’

  ‘You are a bitch!’ hissed Baba, walking out before stopping directly in front of her. ‘No wonder he wanted Tafari.’

  ‘And you are a witch! Because I bet you bent his ear into doing it, didn’t you? My goodness, no doubt you were delighted when she told you her family were African royalty. Personally, I have never seen their coat of arms from Hackney, have you? It would probably be a Petri dish swimming in spunk.’

  ‘You are jealous she gave him a son and you could not!’

  ‘I’m angry he lied to me and used my good nature to make him better, before breaking the news about what he’d done. Out!’ Mabel pointed her finger towards the pavement. ‘Don’t you dare come back here again! You’re barred!’

  ‘Fine!’ she said, storming out. ‘Don’t upset my son or I will kill you!’

  ‘Go ask your son why he wants to be nice to me.’ Baba halted dead in her tracks before turning to look at her. ‘That’s right, Baba. As you know, we’re on speaking terms, hence the email. I’m not exploiting him, he’s exploiting me, and not for the first time!’

  She noticed Alex was walking down the road, glancing over.

  ‘I am going!’ shouted Baba, trying to squeeze her large frame into her car that only had room for a skinny twelve-year-old child.

  The suspension of the vehicle must have been bionic to cope with the hefty weight being deposited in it.

  Mabel watched her drive off and let out a silent scream.

  ‘That was like watching an elephant get into a kid’s car, don’t you think?’ Alex said, standing next to her. ‘I take it that was the ex-mother in law.’

  All Mabel could do was nod, aware that Baba would turn the car around and try to knock her down.

  Nothing would surprise her.

  Then she turned to Alex, who seemed reasonably dishevelled, probably up most of the night screwing someone’s brains out.

  ‘Do you usually walk down here?’ she asked, composing herself and smiling.

  ‘Right now, you look terrifying,’ he said with a gentle smile. ‘I’ve not seen much of you in the past few weeks.’

  ‘I’ve been busy with this and that,’ she replied, checking her watch. ‘The kids will be home soon and I need to get frozen peas. Lottie is saying that’s the only vegetable she is willing to eat.’ Then she thought about her daughters, wondering if Baba gave them a hard time too. ‘And I need to get them ice-cream.’

  ‘Is it that bad?’ he asked. All she could do was nod. ‘Let me go and get the ice-cream and peas. In return, I’ll join you for lunch, okay?’

  ‘Where’s Rose?’

  ‘Next weekend she’ll be over.’ He took a deep breath. ‘I know we don’t know each other really well, but you could always talk to me. I won’t judge.’

  ‘I’m not allowed to say much and you know too many things already.’

  ‘Just pretend I don’t matter and see how it goes.’

  ‘And that’s it?’

  Mabel spoke to the girls as Alex pretended not to listen. He was in the garden, huddled in his jacket, and looking at his phone after lunch. ‘Your Dad was okay about it?’

  Lottie glanced at Jess, who sat up straight, staring at her mother.

  ‘Is there something you’re not telling us?’ Lottie flicked a glance at Alex.

  ‘He’s a neighbour and work colleague, and I’m not his type.’ Just then she realised he smiled. ‘Alex noticed I was a bit stressed this morning. In return for getting the ice cream and peas, I invited him for lunch.’

  ‘Why stressed? Hangover?’ her cheeky younger daughter asked, tapping her fingers on the table.

  ‘I’ve got a few things on my mind.’ She tried not to get angry when thinking about Baba. ‘And I’m it over.’

  ‘Is Rose coming next week? Have you invited her?’ asked Lottie, who seemed exceptionally quiet over lunch. ‘That would be nice. Have you asked Alex?’

  ‘Are you okay?’ Mabel asked, touching her hand. ‘You know, if you want to spend two nights with your dad, I don’t mind.’

  ‘I don’t think daddy is well.’ Lottie’s big brown eyes were etched with concern.

  ‘That’s probably the poison coming out of him after being inflicted with the manly princess and the ugly child,’ replied Jess flatly.

  Alex let out a loud laugh then put his hand over his mouth.

  ‘I’m going to make pancakes with bananas. Do you want some?’ Mabel asked, getting up and clearing the remaining dishes.

  ‘Ice cream for me only,’ said Jess, getting to her feet and walking over to the television.

  ‘I’d like some pancakes,’ replied Lottie, looking a little forlorn. ‘I’m going to check my plants in the garden.’

  Mabel watched Lottie walk out and speak to Alex. She laughed before heading to the shed.

  Loading the dish washer, all Mabel could think about was wringing Baba’s fat neck. It took a few minutes for her to realise Alex was standing behind her.

  ‘Do you need some help?’ he asked, stretching out. He had taken his jacket off and now was exposing his flat stomach through the unbuttoned section of his shirt. ‘I feel I’ve taken advantage of your situation.’

  ‘Thanks for listening,’ she smiled and went to the fridge. ‘Can you squeeze some oranges for me?’

  ‘Oranges?’

  ‘Yes, oranges.’

  Mabel took out the pre-cooked crepe Suzette and laid the ingredients out. Alex handed her the squeezed orange juice in a glass as she cooked in silence.

  When she finished making Lottie’s portion, she turned and smiled at Alex before putting in Cointreau to liven it up. The girls were eating on the sofa, so she took the adult version into the garden.

  ‘This is very good.’ he replied, eating. ‘I thought you didn’t like oranges.’

  ‘This is different.’

  ‘It’s still orange.’

  Mabel looked at Alex and grimaced.

  ‘Don’t take this the wrong way, but maybe part of you likes the fact he needs you.’ Alex sat back i
n his chair. ‘A link that no-one else has.’

  ‘I used to think that about being the mother of his children. How wrong was I?’

  ‘Yeah,’ he smiled, eating the rest of his dessert. ‘That’s an interesting story. Unique.’

  ‘It’s not something I’m proud of. It should have been my baby, not hers.’

  ‘You wanted more kids?’

  ‘I wanted something to seal that he was better; a child we could say was a miracle because of cancer.’ She glanced into the living room and saw her daughters.

  ‘You’re going to have a handful when boys get interested. They’re beautiful young women.’ Alex blushed before putting his plate on the table. ‘They have good looking parents.’

  ‘I don’t know who they look like,’ she mumbled, finishing her crepe. ‘I never really knew my mother, and dad’s a vague memory. From the pictures I have, I can see the girls have inherited something from either one of my parents.’ Mabel felt sad. ‘Do you have any mementos from your mum?’

  ‘Rose looks like her.’

  She realised Alex didn’t want to talk. Then he reached for his phone.

  ‘I’m going to have to go,’ he said, letting out a little sigh.

  Mabel swore it sounded more like relief.

  ‘The offer is still on for next Sunday if Rose wants to come around. You don’t have to feel obliged to stay. Get something to eat and then you can go and do your thing.’

  She got to her feet and took the plates.

  ‘You're very kind,’ he said, frowning as he looked up at her. ‘Are you angling for something?’

  ‘I was going to ask you to remove me from the dating website but based on lack of takers, I don’t need to ask.’

  Alex stood up slowly and stretched out, before smiling.

  Mabel hated to admit it, but she really liked his company.

  And they had something in common which was the inability to love easily or be loved, due to their backgrounds and life in general.

  ‘If someone, anyone emails me, I’ll go on a date. They should rename it ‘Hard to Love’ in my case. Someone, somewhere has to be that desperate, don’t you think?’