Selma
Kent, UK
25 November 1991
When we got back to the cave after the court hearing, I didn’t want to speak to or see anyone. The others seemed to sense it, leaving me alone as I sat under grey skies, a blanket Idris had given me wrapped around my shoulders. In my lap were my notepads, the pages now stuck back in, all of them adding up to a novel just a chapter away from being finished.
It was over. The dream was really over.
I had nothing to offer Becky, nothing to offer the baby I was due to have in a few months. All I had was this – a few notepads of pointless scribbles, scribbles which had cost me my daughter.
I heard the crunch of wet sand behind me and looked up to see Idris approach with a mug of tea in his hands. ‘I thought you’d need this,’ he said.
‘Thank you,’ I replied, grateful.
‘May I join you?’
I nodded, so he sat on a rock beside me and we both looked out to sea.
‘Tell me about your mother,’ he said. ‘Why did you tell me she’d died?’
‘Everything I said about her was true. Apart from the bit about her dying.’
‘I see. So she’s in Margate?’
I shrugged. ‘I presume so. I never see her any more. The last time I saw her, she barely recognised me, she was so drunk.’ Idris frowned. ‘That’s where I really went with Becky all those years ago when I walked out with her. We went to my mother’s flat. I was contending with all these emotions after Becky was born.’
I wiped a tear away, taking a sip of tea and sighing. ‘I was trying to rationalise my irrational feelings. I needed them to be someone else’s fault. So I blamed my mother. By making me feel worthless as a child, she was making me feel worthless as a mother now I was one. Of course, it was down to more than that, I know that now. But still, I wanted to go show Becky to her, show her I was good enough to have a daughter … show myself too, I guess. It was pointless. She was so drunk, she could barely open her eyes to focus on her granddaughter.’
I looked at the ashy logs from the fire the night before. ‘So I stole her watch,’ I said with a bitter laugh. ‘It was lying on the side. Sounds childish, doesn’t it? But I needed something of hers.’ My face clouded over. ‘Mike’s right, I am like my mother. I lie, I manipulate … and now I’ve lost my own daughter because of it.’
I started sobbing and Idris stroked my back, but I shoved him away. ‘Don’t comfort me! I don’t deserve it. I’ve lied to you, so many times! Did you know I’m the one who snapped your paintbrushes in half? And all that other stuff too?’
His eyes widened in surprise. ‘Why would you do that?’
‘It was the only way I could convince you all! You all needed concrete proof of the threat posed by the outside world and I gave it to you. In the long run, it was a good thing.’ I looked towards the iron bars of the new gate, their dark shadows spread across the cave. I placed my mug down, face tense. ‘So there you have it. The truth, for once.’
Idris put his hand over mine again. I didn’t push him away this time. ‘You and I are so alike, Selma,’ he said. ‘Mike was right about one thing: the people we hurt the most with our lies are ourselves. Especially the lies we tell ourselves. Maybe it’s time we stopped doing that. Maybe it’s time we accepted the cave isn’t the right place to bring up a child.’
‘But what else can we do?’
‘Find a flat in town? I have a bit of money, enough for a deposit and a couple of months’ rent.’
I shuddered at the thought. But I knew he was right. I felt tears prick at my eyes. It was over. My dream was officially over.
Over the next few weeks, we discreetly looked around for local flats, but the ones we could afford simply weren’t suitable for a newborn. In fact, the cave felt a safer, more secure option in some cases.
‘There’s no major hurry,’ Idris said after viewing our fifth flat, set above a group of students who were playing music so loud it made the walls throb. ‘We still have a few months. We’ll definitely find one by the time the baby comes.’
‘What about the hotel? Can’t we just live up there?’ I asked, looking towards it as we walked back to the cave.
‘I told you, I have no rights to it, Selma. It’d be classed as squatting and social services really would frown upon us then. All I have is the cave.’
I sunk into a silent darkness over the next few days and weeks. The cave became hollow, nights on the beach in front of the fire drinking gin long gone. When Idris expressed concern I told him I was just ‘in the current’ and needed to focus on finishing my novel. And yes, there was some truth to that. I was writing with a voracity, drawing on my feelings, so very close to the end now. Idris seemed to be in his own world too, painting for many hours of the day. While we still found each other in the darkness at night to gently and quietly make love, there was a new distance between us. Julien, Caden and Maggie seemed to be infected with the mood too, a strange silence falling on our shared feasts as Christmas approached. To add to it all, my weekly meet-ups with Becky had become increasingly difficult, with Becky barely uttering a word, no matter how hard I tried.
Then some light appeared at the end of the tunnel.
‘I have some news!’ Julien said, jumping onto one of the chalk boulders a week before Christmas.
We all went silent, looking up at him.
‘I was going to wait until it all goes through,’ he said, ‘but what the hell. Turns out my former business partner squirrelled money away without telling me. Not just the company we owned, but others he’s been involved in since too. He’s been ordered to pay it back, so I’ll be coming into some money soon.’
Idris walked over and patted Julien on the back. ‘That’s awesome.’
‘Does this mean you’re leaving us?’ I asked him.
He jumped down and strolled over, gripping me by the shoulders. ‘On the contrary! I have a plan. This might sound controversial, but I think we should think about leaving this cave.’
We all exchanged looks.
‘It’s wonderful in the summer, but come on, let’s admit it,’ he said. ‘It sucks in the winter. What if we were somewhere where it’s warm all year around? Where gypsies dance into the night and the sound of crickets fills the air?’
‘Okay, I’m intrigued,’ I said, my heart hammering with hope.
Julien’s eyes sparkled. ‘I’ve read about this place in Granada where people live in caves. A whole community just like us. Well, I say like us – they haven’t been enlightened by Idris and the current yet,’ he said, grinning at Idris. ‘I could afford to fly us all out there, get provisions, set up in the caves there. I’ve made inquiries, and some are free to move into right now.’
‘You’ve really thought about this,’ Idris said, exchanging an excited look with me.
‘Can you imagine bringing your baby up in an endless summer?’ Julien said. ‘Away from accusing eyes and recriminations? Go forward anew, spread word of the current?’
I felt my heartbeat quicken. Maybe Julien was right? Maybe this was the way forward?
But then I thought of Becky. How would I get time with her if I moved to Spain? Maybe Mike would relent to allow a couple of holidays a year to Spain during her half-terms, even if he had to come too. It would mean more quality time with my daughter, wouldn’t it?
I looked at Idris, heart thumping like it had once before when I’d walked towards this cave for the first time, on the precipice of change and hope.
‘I think this might be the solution to all our problems.’
Idris nodded. ‘I think it might,’ he said.
On Christmas morning, I met up with Becky in good spirits. I’d booked a special brunch for us at a local restaurant using some of the money Idris had put aside for a deposit on a flat. We wouldn’t need it now! He’d even bought me a beautiful structured cardigan which perfectly hid my bump. I promised myself I’d tell Becky I was pregnant at some point. I couldn’t keep the fact she had a little brother or sister on the way a secret for much longer, but I didn’t want to rock our already fragile relationship.
Becky walked into the hotel with Mike, looking her usual sulky self. She was wearing a red dress, but she looked uncomfortable in it, pulling at the collar. I stood to greet her, her Christmas present on the floor beside me. I hadn’t been able to afford much but I’d found a beautiful pink castle in the local charity shop, so tall it was up to my waist! I knew Becky would love it.
‘Merry Christmas, Selma,’ Mike said when they got to me.
I smiled at him. Part of me still hated him for what he’d done. But what was the point of all the bitterness?
‘You too, Mike.’ I turned to Becky. ‘Don’t you look gorgeous! Merry Christmas, darling!’
I kissed Becky’s cheek and hugged her, but Becky remained stiff in my arms.
‘See you at twelve?’ Mike said.
‘Absolutely!’
When he left, Becky took the seat across from me.
‘Isn’t it so Christmassy?’ I said, looking around at all the decorations and huge tree. I wondered how Christmas was celebrated in Spain. Would it be hot in the winter? We’d tried to make the cave feel festive but it was growing so damp in there, many of the decorations deteriorated, the tree we’d put outside swept away by a particularly high tide one evening.
We won’t have to put up with that for long, I thought in excitement.
‘And the tree, isn’t it huge?’ I said to Becky, desperate to infect her with my festive cheer.
But Becky just shrugged. I took a deep breath. I clearly had a lot of work to do to win her over. We ordered our food and I tried to make conversation, asking Becky about school, her friends, what other plans she had for Christmas. But Becky just answered in monosyllabic sentences.
‘Do you want to open your present now?’ I asked her when our plates were taken away. ‘Your dad will be here soon.’
Becky looked towards the large box, face lighting up slightly. Presents always did the trick! I slid the box towards her and she instantly started pulling the wrapping off. I watched in excitement as the paper fell away to reveal the pink castle.
‘Isn’t it fab?’ I said.
Becky frowned.
‘Oh. Do you have one already?’ I asked.
Becky sighed, looking up at me. ‘Mum, I’m eight. I don’t play with dollhouses any more.’
I felt a stab of pain. ‘I’m sorry, darling. Let me see if I can take it back.’
‘It’s fine. I mean, it’s not like we see each other much so I guess it’s not your fault you didn’t know.’
I reached across the table, grabbing her hand. ‘Darling, we’ve seen each other every week! I know it’s not ideal but—’
‘It doesn’t matter anyway,’ Becky said, folding her arms and staring into the distance. ‘I’m leaving Queensbay soon.’
My heart slammed against my chest. ‘What?’
‘We’re moving to Busby-on-Sea to be near Nanny and Grandad. Dad’s going to tell you when he picks me up, because he didn’t want to ruin our brunch. But I said you’ll be fine with it.’ She paused, looking me in the eye. ‘Aren’t you? I mean, you’re so busy with the writing and the cave and stuff anyway.’
‘I’m never too busy for you! Your dad can’t just move you away without checking with me!’ I tried to wrap my head around it. ‘When did he make this decision?’
Becky shrugged. I slumped against the chair, heart racing. How could Mike do this to me?
When Mike walked into the restaurant a few moments later, I jumped up, striding towards him.
‘What’s this about you and Becky moving?’ I asked him. ‘Aren’t you supposed to check with me first?’
‘She told you?’
‘Yes.’
He sighed. ‘That’s what I was going to do now – check with you.’
‘Then I say no.’
He looked me in the eye. ‘It’s within a reasonable distance, she’ll have her grandparents there to help. There’s a great school there. Can’t you see what a good move this would be for her?’
‘But I have weekly visitation rights!’
‘Really?’ He crossed his arms. ‘How many of those have you missed?’
‘I was ill!’ And I really was, puking my guts up because of the pregnancy. But how could I tell him that? ‘And Becky made her excuses too.’
He looked up at the ceiling. ‘Aren’t you exhausted with this all, Selma? Can’t you just want what’s best for our daughter?’
I followed his gaze towards Becky, who was sitting at the table alone, eyes on a new handheld game she’d clearly got from Mike for Christmas.
‘Becky and I had a long chat the other week when I ran the plans past her,’ Mike said, ‘and she likes the idea. She wants to make a fresh start. Truth is, she’s being bullied at school.’
I frowned. ‘Why didn’t you tell me?’
‘I only found out myself recently.’
‘Because of me?’
‘Why else?’
I closed my eyes. I used to get bullied myself because of my mum and all the men she used to date. ‘Your mum’s a whore,’ kids would say. ‘So that makes you a whore.’
‘I don’t think you know what a toll this has all taken on her, Selma,’ Mike continued. ‘I think it will be good to get her away from the constant reminder that her mum lives in a cave … and not with her.’ He put his hand on my shoulder. ‘There’s a train that runs direct from Queensbay to Busby-on-Sea, just an hour’s journey. I’ll even pay the fare for your visits and we’ll come back once a month so you can spend a whole day with her.’
‘But I’m supposed to see her every week,’ I said quietly. As I said that, I felt the baby kick. It had started kicking a week ago. It was going to get harder and harder to hide it from Becky and Mike, especially Mike who I was convinced would report me to social services if he found out I was pregnant.
‘Anyway, we won’t be moving until spring. Maybe early summer,’ Mike said. ‘That’s if we do move. I won’t go if you insist. But I think we need to put Becky first, don’t you?’
I felt my shoulders slumping in defeat. Maybe he was right. Maybe this was the best thing to do after all.
‘Okay,’ I whispered.
As Christmas and the New Year rolled by, I threw myself into revising my novel from the pages Maggie had typed up. I needed to take my mind off Becky moving. I hadn’t even told Idris; thinking about it was too painful, let alone talking about it. I also focused on Julien’s plans to go to Spain; we were planning to fly out there in the spring, once Julien received his pay-out.
In the meantime, I tried to see Becky when I could, but my belly was growing too big and once I made my first excuse for not meeting up, it was easy to continue, especially when Becky was so silent and moody when we did spend time together. Instead, I went into town every few days to call her under the cover of darkness. But Becky was making her own excuses too: too tired to talk to me, seeing friends, busy with homework. Even Mike seemed saddened by the deteriorating relationship between his wife and daughter. And it sickened me, a good night’s sleep now a distant memory as I lay awake, wracked with guilt. I tried to tell myself I had another child to think about now, one I could make a fresh start with, but it was no use. I still yearned for Becky.
I started latching onto the idea of Spain as our only hope to repair our relationship. Maybe Becky could spend the entire summer holidays with me out there?
But when early spring arrived, Julien still hadn’t received his pay-out.
‘Any news, Julien?’ I asked him one particularly freezing day.
Julien avoided my gaze, focusing on the stool he was working on. ‘Nothing yet.’
‘When do you think the money’s coming? It’s just that they’ll not let me fly soon.’ I smiled, gesturing to my huge belly.
Julien sighed. ‘Look, it’s probably best you don’t hang too much on this Spain thing, Selma.’
I paused. ‘But it’s all we’ve been talking about. All you’ve been talking about.’
He closed his eyes, taking in a deep breath. Then he opened them again. ‘I probably jumped the gun a bit. My solicitor told me it was a sure thing after the last court date and I took that as a yes. But they can’t track down the money. There’s a chance he spent it all.’
I scrunched my fists together in frustration. ‘But we were relying on this!’
Julien raked his hands through his black hair. ‘Yeah, I know. But hey, what’s stopping you and Idris going to Spain?’
‘Money!’ I shouted. Maggie, Caden and Idris looked up, shocked. But I was getting desperate. I’d relied on this plan of running away to Spain. Now I had just two months before I was due and yet I was no closer to securing either a safe family home for my baby or the chance of quality time with Becky.
Idris strode over. ‘What’s going on?’
‘We’re going to have our baby taken off us, that’s what’s going on,’ I said, biting my nails as I paced back and forth.
‘What do you mean?’ Idris said.
‘Ask him,’ I said, flinging my arm towards Julien. ‘I can’t think about this any more.’ Then I stomped into the cave, welcoming its darkness.
It was all ruined. Everything was ruined.
I looked down at my growing baby. What did this mean for my child?