Page 22 of A Part of Me and You
‘You’re angry at the situation, not at your mum,’ I try to explain to her. ‘It’s horrible and it hurts and it’s not fair. You are right to be angry, but be angry at the illness, not at her.’
She sniffles and nods a bit.
‘Go and find your mum, Rosie,’ I tell her. ‘Try and be brave though I know it’s the hardest thing in the whole wide world right now. Be brave and you are going to have a lovely holiday with your mum, I just know you are.’
She smiles and pulls her damp sleeves down over her hands.
‘Thank you,’ she whispers. ‘Thank you, Shelley. And you too, Merlin. He’s a really sweet dog, aren’t you Merlin?’
‘You know where I am if you need me,’ I tell her.
She pats Merlin’s head goodbye then walks away from me, her head bowed down against the rain, and I put Merlin back on his lead and walk in the opposite direction, back home to my empty existence but feeling something like I haven’t felt in such a long, long time.
I feel warmth inside, deep inside my broken heart that has been frozen for so long. I think I may have helped that little girl in some way.
At least I hope I have.
Juliette
‘Rosie! Rosie, oh God, Rosie where were you? Look at you! You’re soaked right through!’
I am out of my mind when I finally find my daughter wandering down the street in the lashing rain. She’s so pale and cold that I want to pack my case and get on a plane back to Birmingham right now and pretend this whole stupid trip never happened in the first place.
‘I’m so sorry, Mum,’ she tells me as she falls into my arms and I kiss her forehead what seems like a thousand times in relief.
‘I checked every shop, every bar and I have never been so frightened in all my life, do you hear me?’
‘I’m sorry, I’m sorry,’ she repeats in a chant. She is soaked through.
‘Are you okay? Just tell me you’re okay?’
‘I am,’ she says. ‘Just cold and wet but I’m fine and I’m really sorry. I’m so sorry to have worried you.’
We walk arm in arm through puddles across the street and down past the harbour to our cottage, where I realize I have left the front door wide open, but to be honest I couldn’t care less. Right now, I really want to go home.
‘Just tell me nothing bad happened to you, Rosie,’ I say through the rain. ‘I want you to get dried off and warmed up and tell me exactly where you have been. I can’t believe I was silly enough to let you go wandering alone when I don’t actually know this place or the people in it at all. Do you know how precious you are to me? What the hell was I thinking?’
‘Mum, it’s not your fault,’ she says to me. ‘None of this is your fault. None of it.’
‘It is my fault! I was here only once!’ I tell her. ‘Just once a lifetime ago and I seem to think it’s some picture postcard different planet where nothing goes wrong ever! How the hell do I know that there aren’t murderers and rapists lurking around each corner? How?’
‘Mum, stop, please, nothing happened,’ Rosie tells me when I finally stop ranting and try to listen to her as I catch my breath. I usher her inside the cottage and throw my soaking wet Marilyn stupid Monroe wig on the sofa and kick off my sodding pumps which I hate now with a vengeance and start to strip off the blue dress which now feels ridiculous since it’s been soaked right through too. I am a crap mother. I never should have let her go walking round a strange village on her own. It looks like Dr Michael was right after all because right now I feel sicker than any cancer could ever make me. I’m sick of myself and the stupid risks that I have taken all my life.
‘Get changed, quickly,’ I tell my daughter who is standing in silence, staring at me with my pathetic fluffy mousey hair and my puffy steroid-filled body which is scarred inside and out.
‘Can we still go for dinner?’ asks Rosie. ‘I’m sorry your new dress got ruined. I got chips but a dog ate them. Are you hungry, Mum?’
I think I’d be physically sick if I ate but I can see my baby girl is shaken and cold and I don’t want to get angry with her. I don’t have time to fight with her.
‘Get into the shower quickly and warm up then we can order some takeaway,’ I tell her with a forced smile. I am so bloody relieved that she is here and she is alright. ‘There’s a nice Chinese a few miles down the road and I’ll see if they deliver.’
Then we both look at my sodden blue dress on the floor and start to laugh.
‘Well you’ve nothing to wear to dinner now, have you?’ says Rosie and I lift the dress up and swing it around so that the rain water splashes her face.
‘Quick, shower and we’ll have a pyjama party!’ I tell her, and then I chase her down the hallway in my underwear, shaking the water from the dress at her as she laughs heartily and closes the door on the bathroom and locks it, still laughing … and then I lean up against the door and slide down onto the floor, crying and laughing with relief that she is safe and well. I am so blessed to have this time with her.
I don’t want to miss a second. I won’t ever let her out of my sight again.
