Selma
Kent, UK
1 June 1992
‘Hush little baby, don’t you cry, Daddy’s gonna buy you a painting brush. If that painting brush don’t work … Mummy’s gonna buy you a pile of books.’
Catherine gurgled, reaching up for my face as I sang. My mother used to sing the original version to me. Dad told me that. There must have been a time she loved me, when I was very young. Like I loved Catherine now, like I loved Becky. But then it turns bitter. Becky’s right, I’m not capable of real love.
One of my tears splashed onto my daughter’s chubby cheek and I gently wiped it away.
Outside, I saw the flicker of the fire. Julien, Caden and Idris were sitting out there with Donna and Tom, who was scribbling in a notepad I’d let him have. Maggie had finally left a few weeks before, unable to take it any more after some paper flowers she’d made were destroyed in a flood. When Idris told her it was all ‘for a reason’, she’d exploded, telling him she couldn’t cope with living in the cave any more, seeing the very reason she’d gone there in the first place – her art – destroyed. I’d met up with her in the café when I’d bumped into her one day while I walked along the beach. She’d told me it suited me, being a new mother. I’d smiled, nodded, pretended I agreed.
I heard Idris laugh. He was in good spirits. The topic of Spain had come up again, Julien and Idris concocting a plan to sell furniture and art from the cave to make enough money to go.
‘Just a few months,’ Idris had said to me just the night before, ‘and we’ll have enough money for flights for all of us. We can give our little Catherine the life she deserves and Becky too, when she comes out to visit. No more running.’
But I hadn’t listened properly. It was a pipe dream. The fact was, I’d never be able to run from the true threats to my daughters.
Me.
Becky was right, my mother was right. What chance did Catherine have with a mother like me?
I’d been mulling over my options since I’d seen them both. If I handed Catherine to social services, there was a chance she could have a wonderful life with new parents. But what if the right parents couldn’t be found for her? What if she stayed in care throughout her childhood, just like my mother had? For some, it worked. But for others, like my mother, it didn’t. I couldn’t rely on Idris to look after Catherine. He was a loving, doting father, but completely impractical.
So there was only one option left really.
I looked down at my beautiful daughter, kissing her rosebud lips as I stroked her face, breathing in her sweet smell.
‘I do love you,’ I said in a trembling voice. ‘That’s why I must do this,’ I whispered into her ear. I looked into her eyes. She deserved more than what I could offer her, what the world could offer her. It was my fault, being foolish and careless enough to bring her into this world. So now it was up to me to give her peace from it.
‘My darling,’ I said, sobs beginning to wrack my body now. ‘My beautiful sweet Catherine. I love you forever and ever.’
Then I placed the blanket over my dear baby’s mouth. She wriggled, making a muffled sound that broke my heart. I closed my eyes, shut myself to what I was feeling, what I was hearing. Instead, I saw Becky as a newborn, the sun above her head, bright and orange. And then my own mother, face expressionless as she looked at me when I was a child.
When it was over, I wrapped my daughter’s lifeless body up in a blanket. Then I got up, walking towards the small dent in the wall, placing Catherine gently inside.
‘Sweet dreams,’ I said. ‘You’ll be safe now.’ I kissed my finger and pressed it against Catherine’s tiny face, felt her cheek still warm and full.
Then I placed the blanket down over the hole like I’d planned.
I took a deep shuddering breath. Then I walked from the cave and past the fire and the people surrounding it, completely unnoticed. I could see Idris was still smiling and felt a sudden surge of love for him. I almost ran to him. But then my resolve returned. It was best this way. My family had brought him only heartache. I hadn’t told him the truth, that my mother was the woman who’d taken everything from him. Best he didn’t know.
When I stepped into the sea, my skirt ballooned up around me, my jumper dragging my arms down. I imagined Idris treading water beside me as I started pulling my clothes off.
All the weight of the years, I imagined him saying as he’d once said before, the dark thoughts, the negative vibes. No longer will they weigh you down.
The waves came to my chin now, salt water entering my mouth.
Then strong hands were gripping me under my armpits, long hair silver beneath the moonlight gliding in the sea around me.
‘Selma!’ I heard Idris shout out. ‘What are you doing? Selma, for God’s sake.’
I looked up at him, at his beautiful eyes, the same slanted eyes as Catherine’s.
‘Help me,’ I sobbed. ‘Our beautiful baby is gone, Idris. Help me.’