“Polly, are you ready yet? I’m going to be late for school!” Victoria shook out her brother Cyrils last shirt and pegged it to the washing line stretched across the balcony. Unenclosed, its paint peeling from the walls, the balcony was still her favourite place in the flat.
Victoria wandered over to the railings and, as always, paused. From the seventh floor, the view of the river and the surrounding neighbourhood was breathtaking. The sunrise had claimed the world, and everything gleamed with brilliant spring sunlight. She squinted, gripping the cool metal with her thin fingers. This, she thought, this is life! So bright, so dazzlingly beautiful, with everything ahead of her, and possibility glowing so hard it almost hurt to look at. And this was her life too! Yes, if she could just manage everything, it would all work out exactly as she wanted.
A little cloud drifted across to hide the sun for a moment. Victoria shivered and snapped out of her daydream. The world suddenly became sharp, plain, and ordinary. Wasnt it always like that, though? First, you had a dream, and then bang back to reality. But then what was it her friend Susan always said? Reality is what you make of it, isn’t it? What happens depends only on your choices. She was probably right. A clever woman shed finished university herself. She said Victoria absolutely had a chance to get in too. But would she really want to? Wanting was only the start. You had to think carefully, weigh your options. As things stood, her father couldnt manage alone. The younger siblings were still so little, and money well, there was never enough of it. That meant Victoria would have to choose: university or work. Right now, getting a job and helping Dad was her only option.
She glanced at the small watch her father had given her back in Year 4 and gasped. Theyd be late! Grabbing the empty washing basket, she nudged open the balcony door.
Pauline, little hand tucked under her cheek, was fast asleep. Victoria couldnt help but gaze at her little sister with tenderness. She was so beautiful! Her eyelashes were so long, they lay across her cheeks, and her light curls tumbled over the pillow. They were a bother, those curls, but Victoria never wanted to cut them off you preserved beauty, didnt you? Their mother had curls like that as well. Victoria frowned she didnt like to think about her mother. Theres a lot one can forgive, but betrayal never, probably. Their mum had betrayed them. Shed left. Pauline was so tiny she didnt remember her at all. When she was small, she sometimes called Victoria Mum, which always earned curious looks on the playground. Victoria smiled, remembering the first time the mothers there gave her a piece of their mind.
Theyd moved into this flat after their grandmother died, and Dad inherited her place. The old, cramped two-bedroom where theyd lived was just too small for everyone, so they relocated to the spacious four-bedroom of Grandmothers.
Grandmother had been a stern, formidable professor at the university, rarely mixing with the neighbours, whom she declared simple and dull. When Victoria was young, she hadnt really understood, but later shed avoided Grandmothers flat as much as she could. She never liked her grandmothers manner or how she spoke to people. Of course, Victoria always came to help, but every time she gritted her teeth and bore the criticism.
“You resemble your mother. I doubt youll amount to much, unless our side of the family wins out. And I wouldnt bet on it. Your father, well nature took the day off there. Your only hope is knowledge! Study! Or youll come to ruin, just like your mother.”
Victoria kept silent. What could she say? Grandmother wouldnt tolerate backchat. Dad never scolded Victoria after such complaints. But the way his face would go so dark, shutting himself off for the entire day that was punishment enough. So, Victoria tried not to argue, just finished whatever work she was set, then, barely having said goodbye, would shoot out of the flat like a rocket. Only once did she break, snapping at Grandmother and promising herself never to regret it.
“Your brother and sister are probably not even your father’s children. I have no family claim on those bastards. You’re forbidden from mentioning them in my home, understood?”
“Then I wont be coming here either!” Victoria clenched her fists, staring at Grandmother.
“What did you say?” Grandmothers voice was so surprised Victoria immediately cooled down, though moments ago shed wanted to smash every porcelain figurine lining the shelves. She hated that collection of porcelain more than two hours spent, under Grandmothers hawk-eye, just dusting each one. Grandmother had banned the little ones because of those fragile ornaments. Porcelain was valuable the children, not hers
“I won’t come again!” Victoria shouted, rushing down the corridor and hurriedly bundling into her coat before dashing out the door. She flew all the way home. Pauline, babbling, was sitting in her playpen, and Victoria, slipping off only her boots, scooped her sister into her arms.
“Youre mine! And Cyrils mine too! We’re family, no matter what anyone says! And we dont need anybody else!”
Dad poked his head out from the bathroom, where hed been handwashing their clothes, and stared in surprise at Victoria, who was standing in the middle of the room in tears. Pauline, alarmed, reached out to touch her sisters cheeks, then, sensing Victorias tears werent there just for her, started wailing even louder. Cyril, whod been doing his homework in the kitchen, darted in.
“What are they crying about?”
“Dunno!”
“Women!” Cyril shrugged and gave both sisters a noisy hug. “Crybabies! Anyway, are you eating or what? Dad and me made pasta.”
A call from Grandmother came an hour later. Victoria gently set down her half-rinsed plate and turned off the tap. Dads voice, drifting from the next room, sounded first surprised, then annoyed, then downright angry. Victoria curled up on a chair and hugged her knees. Thered be a row now…
But she was wrong. Nothing happened. That evening, Dad came into the kitchen, silently hugged her, kissed her forehead and said:
“You needn’t go to your grandmothers anymore.”
“Why?”
“Because no one, not even a relative, has the right to insult you or your family.”
Relieved, Victoria leaned into her father. No more oppressive visits, no more endless reproaches. She could focus on her own plans and looking after the little ones.
Grandmother passed away a year and a half later. In the last two months, Victoria had started to visit after she and Dad visited her in hospital. In the shrivelled old woman slumped in the hospital bed, Victoria barely recognised the powerful, commanding grandmother shed known. Only her tone remained the same. Watching her snap orders at the nurses, Victoria squeezed her fathers hand.
“Ill stay.”
“Darling”
“I need to.”
The nurses were visibly relieved to have a peacekeeper at hand. Victoria went to school in the afternoons, so she could dash to the hospital for the morning round. With Victoria sitting upright beside her, Grandmother grew softer and the nurses could finally get on with their work.
“Youre an amazing girl,” the matron hugged her. “Dont hold a grudge, love. Happiness never came to your gran, or shed have been less hard-hearted. Its dreadful, living so long and never figuring life out.”
The last day Victoria saw her grandmother, the old woman was strangely quiet, staring at the gloomy sky outside. Victoria, finishing an essay on her lap, packed her notebook and rose.
“I must go.”
“Wait” The thin whisper stopped her. Victoria turned in surprise. “Forgive me, child. For everything. My life wasted. Look after your dad”
Victoria nodded, picked up her bag, and headed for the door. She paused, went back, and kissed her grandmothers cheek gently.
“Rest well. Ill visit later.”
She caught, as she left, her grandmother turning away to hide her watery eyes. It would take an hour to get to school; she was cutting it fine.
Grandmother passed away that day. Victoria listened in silence as her father broke the news and then quietly gathered up her siblings, taking them off to their room. It had always been hard for her, but for Dad, it was losing a mother. Victoria knew hed spend all evening at the kitchen table, staring into nothing, then wipe his tears away before making food for the next day.
The move was tough. Pauline fell ill, Cyril was restless, ignoring rules and homework. Dad darted between work and home, and Victoria boxed up the last things, praying that everything would be different in the new place. She didnt know who she was asking but somehow, it felt as if someone was listening.
In Grandmothers flat, everyone suddenly had their own space, and for a short while, they drifted, unsure what to do, not huddled together all the time. But soon, Paulines bed appeared in Victorias room sleepless at night, shed always pad in to her big sister. Cyril spent all his time in the kitchen, where Victoria worked as well. They shared the table, books spread out, tackling homework and household jobs together.
“Salt the potatoes!” Victoria was grappling with a physics problem. Numbers were never her thing best not get distracted.
“Vicky, the soups boiling, what now?”
“Hang on!” She put down her pen and started chopping veg.
“I cant get this right! These negative numbers confuse me. Vicky?”
“Lets have a look. What’s the question?”
Pauline, at her little table nearby, scribbled dutifully in a colouring book. If the big kids worked, then she ought to as well.
At first, Victoria found it overwhelming. Dad was always working; she had to look after the younger kids. You could bargain with Cyril, but Pauline was more tricky. Nursery helped, but Pauline was often ill, so Victoria missed quite a bit of school. At least until Susan appeared.
Victoria met Susan, their neighbour, quite by accident. The first week after moving, she went to the playground with Pauline. It was a warm day, so the place was crowded with children, parents, grandmas, nannies who kept a sharp eye on their own and on everyone elses business. Pauline wanted a go on the swings, but there was a queue.
“Mum!” Her clear, piping voice rang out across the playground. The women started to look.
Her mother? This girl? She cant be more thanwhat, sixteen? A disgrace!
Some of the helpful women decided to share their opinion with Victoria. She could hear their muttering and sideways glances, while Pauline started howling for her turn, and Victoria struggled to get her away from the fuss.
“Whats all this?” came a firm voice.
Victoria jumped, the no-nonsense tone reminding her, fleetingly, of her grandmother. The women instantly clammed up.
“Susan! Hello!”
Susan, a smartly dressed woman, scooped her son into her arms.
“Glad youre here. Seems the new neighbour isnt quite what our hens expected.”
She snorted, eyeing the silent crowd, slung her bag of toys over her shoulder, and walked over.
“Is there a problem?” Susan looked around the playground.
A nosy old lady, the one causing the scene, stuck out her chin.
“Look at this, Susan, will you? Girl has a baby at her age! What do you think, you know about these things. Is it any good? Should someone ring social services its not right! How can a girl bring up a child? She should be in school! Itd be better for the child to be taken into care!”
“Are you finished?” Susan raised an eyebrow.
Victoria saw the woman preparing a retortpeople always had something to say when nobodyd asked. But the woman just huffed, grabbed her granddaughters hand, and shuffled away.
“Shows over,” Susan shrugged. “Right, before you go organising a rally, check your facts first. So, whos this little one to you, then?”
“My sister.”
“Exactly. Any more questions?”
The women scattered, sheepish and silent.
“Whats your name?”
“Victoria. This is Pauline.”
“Youve already got mine. Just Sue is fineno Mrs or Miss. Dont call me Auntie, for heavens sake!” Susan laughed. “Im much too young for that! Just Sue or Susan. Not such a difference in age, after all.”
Victoria couldnt remember later quite how Susan became her friend. Whod have thought a friendship could grow between a teenager and a woman in her thirties? But, it seemed, the fates had decided Victoria needed it now. Theyd given her a lucky ticket, regardless of their ages.
It didnt take long for Victoria to understand why Susan was respected, even feared, in the building. She was a family solicitor, and neighbours came to her sooner or later. Susan was sharp and professionalshed never gossip.
“Imagine what I know about everyone here!” shed laugh, helping Victoria take down curtains. “Lovely drapes, though, bit of a pain to wash. Fussy fabric.”
“Why do they fear you, Susan?” Victoria asked, folding the next bit of cloth. Susan, slight and agile in her shorts and T-shirt, was stretched out on the windowsill, reaching for the rail. She looked younger than many of Victorias classmates.
“People like a good reputation, Victoria. We all want to seem good so much so we start to believe it ourselves. But nobody wants their business in the open missed child support, neglectful of elderly parents, dumping gran in a home to snatch the flat. Bad image, lost reputation. You see?”
Victoria nodded, slowly. Of course she did. That was why her dad chose to moveto get away from those who knew why Mum had left
Susan was the only person Victoria eventually told about her mother. Shed been holding it in for years, never realising how much it was weighing her down. What if Grandmother had been right, and shed turn out just as bad?
One day, Susan asked her to feed the cat.
“Ive got a hearing, could go on for ages, then Im off to the GP, then a meeting. Can you help out? Otherwise hell complain all night.”
“He’s only a cat!”
Susan grinned. “Try having him block your sleep. Hell sit on me and prod me with his paw if his bowl’s empty!”
“Cant you lock him in another room?”
“Watch,” Susan beckoned her. They tip-toed past the kitchen, where Marmaduke the tomcat was sleeping on the sofa.
She pressed a finger to her lips, then bang! Marmaduke smacked the door hard enough to rattle it.
“Blimey!”
“Thats him until I give in! Dont get cross with him!”
Purring grumpily, Marmaduke slumped into Susans arms.
“Sometimes I think I’m the pet, and he pays the mortgage.”
Susan showed Victoria where the food was and dashed out.
Victoria got held up at school, then Pauline dawdled in the nursery and spent half an hour picking a chocolate at the corner shop, Cyril begged for maths help, and by the time Victoria reached Susans it was almost eight.
“Sorry, Marmaduke! I got here as quick as I could!” She filled his bowl. The front door banged, and Victoria spun round.
“Oh its just you,” Susan sighed, slumping into a chair and dropping her bag. She looked exhausted.
“Sue, I”
But Susan waved her off, and unexpectedly burst into tears, hiding her face. Stunned, Victoria sat and gently hugged her.
“Sorry just lost it. Its been a rough day and theres no one to talk to. Mums gone now, and thats it.”
“What about me? Am I nobody?” Victoria peered into her eyes.
Susan smiled through tears, ruffling Victorias hair. “Those curls I always wanted curls. Women always want what they havent got, you knowits the law of life. I wanted curls and a child.”
She went quiet.
“Curls you can get in a salon, Sue. A child?”
Victoria plucked up courage; it wasnt really her place, but if someone needs to talk Susan had done so much for her, for Cyril, for Pauline always ready to help with a school run, a forgotten key, a round of homework.
Susan wiped her nose and pulled a clear wallet from her bag.
“A child see here. My fate. No chance. Ill never have one, and its my fault. Some mistakes cost too much, Victoria. Remember that.”
Susan had fallen pregnant straight away; for some it took years, but not for her. She and her husband Max had been friends since childhood, their parents close too. Theyd never questioned that theyd end up togetherbig white wedding, dreams, plans. They both wanted children, but kept putting it offafter the next promotion, a bit more money, a new flat. Then, surprise it happened.
“Max, what about the holidays? I didn’t expect it to happen so soon…”
Theyd planned a trip to Cyprus. Susan fretted, but Max said, “Well goearly days. Well have sunshine and then get ready.”
After talking it through with her doctor, they went. Theyd thought of every eventualityexcept the teenager on the rented scooter. The next thing Susan knew, she was waking in hospital.
She lost the baby. Healing was slow, both for the ribs and her leg. The consultant told Max to keep her spirits up.
“How?” he moaned. “She won’t talk, just cries.”
Their marriage unravelled. Sitting with a wife lost in her own grief was hard work. Max tried, but Susan wouldnt let him in.
Later, Susan realised theyd both failed, drowning in sadness, forgetting the baby was Maxs loss as well. She saw only herself.
They divorced as soon as they returned home. Early days were a struggle, but in time, Susan adjusted. Nearly a year later, she bumped into Max at courtand discovered, to her surprise, that the pain had faded. There were still memories and all those years of understanding. No one ever understood Susan the way Max did. Why hadnt she let him in, back in Cyprus? Now, it was too late. They talked in a restaurant until closing, then carried on at Susans flat, reminiscing, laughing, skirting the painful topics. Gradually, they became friends again. They were no longer the children firing catapults at apples on her parents allotment. So when Max asked her to marry him again, Susan hesitated, promising to think it over.
“And I have” Susan moved the file away, wiping her tears. “I cant, though. Hes always wanted children.”
“Are you sure, Susan? Could there be a mistake?” Victoria touched the file cautiously.
“The doctors say no.”
“But doctors make mistakes… Any chance at all?”
“Very small. Practically none. If it doesnt happen?”
“Then youll cry then! But try first, Sue, and save your tears till you must!”
Susan hugged her. “Thank you. Where did you get all this wisdom? Youre still so young.”
“Good teachers,” grunted Victoria, reaching for the kettle on the hob.
“Tell me, then. You never say why you only have your dad. Wheres your mum? Go onlets swap secrets.”
