Page 81 of The Rescue

“You walked the rest of the way here, in the rain?” I ask, shocked.

“Aye, I’m sorry,” she offered again.

I look at my mum standing in my kitchen, dripping wet from the rain with a pleading look on her face. I think she knew what I’d think if she didn’t turn up and now I can see that she really is trying to change. She’s really trying to salvage our relationship. I know we have a long road ahead of us, and I don’t know if I will fully forgive her but I can see now that she’s trying.

“The girls are nearly finished cleaning out the front.”

A look of disappointment falls across her face, and it’s not at me but at herself. I can tell she’s disappointed in herself for being late. A pang of sympathy spreads through me.

“You can help me in here, if you’d like?”

I don’t usually allow anyone in here, let alone touch any of my equipment, but she made the effort to get here. I’d feel terrible to turn her back out into the rain, and my kitchen is a little messier than usual today from all the orders I’ve been baking.

My mum’s head snaps up and a soft look of gratitude spreads across her face. She hangs up her wet coat on the hook by the backdoor and looks around my small kitchen. I can’t quite read the look on her face but they land on the few Christmas puddings on the stainless steel island that I’d just pulled out of the oven.

She closes her eyes and smells the aroma of the Christmas puddings. “I love Christmas pudding. It smells divine in here.”

“Aye, it’s Nan’s recipe.”

The mention of nan, makes her hang her head in shame. And it’s evident that my mum has a lot of work to do with rebuilding not just our relationship, but the one with her mum too. My nan has never once spoken ill of her daughter, she hardly mentions her. But I can tell the years of not talking and after her abandoning me, has taken its toll on my nan’s health. I lost a mum that day, and my nan lost a daughter. We got through our pain together. I love my nan so much, she is the reason I am the man today. She is the most important person in my life. I haven’t had a chance to speak to her about this recently and I feel guilty about it. I make a mental note to call her later and tell her how much she means to me, and to check in on her about my mum’s sudden reappearance. I’ve been so wrapped up in my own feelings and with what’s going on with Crystal to stop and think how my nan might be feeling about this. My shameful thought is dashed when my mum finally speaks.

“How is she?” She asks, looking concerned, worried and scared all in one.

My nan is no spring chicken, and I can tell by the look on my mum’s face that she regrets wasting years of not talking to her or trying to rekindle their relationship.

“She’s good, still a wee firecracker,” I offer my mum a little reassurance.

Her shoulders drop a little, and she rolls up her damp sleeves and starts filling the sink with water to wash the dirty mixingbowls and spoons. I can see the years of stress on my mum’s face, it’s aged her considerably. I think about time, and how much it’s a thief. I’m not justifying that her leaving me and my nan was the right thing to do, but I want to try and understand from her perspective. She mentioned that my dad was abusive to her, and it makes me sick to my stomach. My skin feels like it’s crawling with the thought of being abusive to anyone let alone the person you claim to love the most. I feel like such an ignorant prick for being short with her after she told me about her situation.

“Did he ever hurt you?” I blurt out, and I instantly regret my landing of the question.

The question has been bubbling away in me since St. Andrews day, what she said about him being abusive. I should’ve asked her there and then, but I was occupied with Crystal and Angus Anderson. If there’s one thing I’ve learnt through finally putting the past behind me is to ask the tough questions. I spent years refusing to talk to my mum and when she finally came back, all I could’ve done was talk to her, ask questions.

Her grip tightens around the spoon she’s holding, and her shoulders tense. She looks at me with wide eyes, I can see the panic in them, and I hate that anyone could make another person feel that terrified. After what feels like a lifetime, she finally musters the courage to speak.

“No, he got close a couple of times. He would call me every name under the sun, and threaten violence. But he never laid a finger on me.”

I can see the slight shake in her hands as she holds the spoon over the sink, and by instinct I grab her hands to steady her nerves. I don’t know why, but a part of me wanted to comfort her. She tenses slightly, but relaxes as she looks into my eyes.

“I’m sorry that happened to you, I wish we could’ve helped,” I sigh.

She scoffs but in a helpless way.

“You were a wee lad, and besides I was blinded by the abuse. It’s hard to explain, but people who are in abusive situations do things that might not make sense to other people like pushing friends and family away. I thought he would eventually change after the countless times he would apologise and be nice to me for a couple of days. I’m not proud of how I handled things with you and nan, but I didn’t want to drag you into it. I was scared that he would switch to you when you got bigger. I regret not leaving him years ago, and that’s something I live with,” she says, with a tear running down her cheek.

The thick tension in the air makes it hard to breath, the shock, the pain is engulfing me too. I see now that my mum hasn’t been perfect in any means but I can see now why she did what she did. It doesn’t make it any better, but it makes it easier for me to accept the reason why. And now I’m ready to start working at rebuilding our relationship, and I know it will be a long process but we’ll get there.

I pull her in close to me and wrap my arms around her, she drops the spoon instantly and hugs me back tight. Years of pain ripple out of her, and I can tell by her tight grip on me that she’s been wanting this for so long. I’m finally done being sad and angry at the past, we can’t change it so we can only try to change from here.

My mum lets out a long sigh that feels like getting rid of years of tension, and I smile because I do exactly the same. She finally chuckles into the crook of my shoulder, and wipes away the tears as we break the hug.

“You don’t know how long I’ve waited for that. I know we have a lot to work on, but I wanted to thank you for giving me a chance,” she admits.

“I know, me too. It’s okay, I’m glad we’re finally taking this step, it’s been a long time coming,” I laugh.

She finally smiles at me, and I can see the stress slowly melting away. We stand together side by side at the sink and make the conversation lighter whilst she washes and I dry. It’s a nice way to distract the awkwardness of an estranged mother and son conversation.

“Rab–oh sorry. Hey, Susie, I didn’t think you were working today,” Crystal says as she comes rushing through the door to the kitchen. A flicker of a frown appears and then quickly disappears across her face. I’m the only one who notices it.

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