Second Time Around (6 page)

He left the room and, moments later, Sharon heard the TV blaring. She cuddled her son closer. ‘It’s okay, sweetie. Daddy isn’t cross with you.’

‘He is.’

‘Well, he doesn’t mean to be. He works very hard and loses his temper when he gets tired.’

‘Only with me,’ Bobby said.

Sharon was thrown by the perceptive comment. ‘How about some ice cream?’ He nodded and sat back at the table while she went to the freezer. She put a dish of vanilla-and-chocolate
ice-cream in front of him. ‘Now, what do you say?’

‘Thank you,’ he mumbled.

‘Good boy.’ Sharon wondered how many mothers felt as victorious as she did when she managed to prise a polite response from her child.

The phone rang and Sharon tensed when she heard her mother’s voice.

‘Hi, love. All set for our first meditation class?’

Sharon groaned. ‘Is that tonight?’

‘Yes, and don’t try to worm your way out of it – I’m looking forward to it.’

‘It’s just that Bobby isn’t in great form and he gets unsettled when I go out before bedtime.’

Suzie tutted. ‘Won’t his dad be there? If you don’t come, I can’t go either. It’s not on a bus route and you know that I’m not allowed to drive
yet.’

Sharon buckled under the emotional blackmail. ‘Fine. I’ll pick you up at six thirty.’

‘Great. I know you’ll enjoy it. It’s supposed to be very calming.’

Sharon bristled. ‘And why do I need calming?’

‘Don’t be so bloody touchy,’ her mother groaned. ‘I’m simply saying that you’re a busy mum and it’s important to take some time out for yourself. The
healthier and happier you are, the better you can handle things.’

‘You’ve been reading those brochures again.’

Suzie chuckled. ‘I have but, you have to admit, it makes sense.’

‘It does,’ Sharon conceded. ‘See you later, Mum.’ She sat staring at the phone. She hadn’t been coping well lately and even her mother had noticed.

Sharon felt like such a failure. She’d longed to be a mother and was devastated to find that she wasn’t a very good one. Not that she neglected Bobby, quite the reverse, as Keith was
fond of pointing out. But she had expected to have a strong bond with her child. She’d assumed that she would know what he wanted, what he needed and that she would always be able to comfort
and protect him. But Sharon had tried everything to get through to Bobby and failed. She had told him he must play nicely with other children and share his toys, and had encouraged him to talk, but
all without success. As for the tantrums, she couldn’t even figure what triggered them, never mind how to manage them. The only thing she could do was hold Bobby and let him know she was
there, and wait until the tirades passed.

She knew her friends and family didn’t agree with her methods. Only Mum had stood by her, never once criticising or interfering and, when even Sharon lost patience, had taken over and
tried to cajole Bobby to be good. But that was Mum before the accident.

Since she’d woken up, Sharon had seen a very different side of her mother. Not only did Suzie speak her mind, she was cutting and unkind when she did. Sharon had shed many a tear over some
of the things she’d said and done lately. It hurt and felt as though she’d lost her only supporter.

Why couldn’t Mum go back to the way she was before the accident? Sharon knew she should be grateful that she was alive at all, but it was hard to pretend that everything was the same as
before. Suzie hardly spent any time with them now. In the past she had always been on hand to babysit or simply join her daughter and grandchild when they went to the park or playground. But, these
days, she made excuses not to see them or said straight out that she was too tired to put up with Bobby’s moods. Sometimes Sharon thought her mother didn’t even
like
her grandson, let alone love him.

She wished she could talk to Keith about it, but they couldn’t seem to talk about anything these days without it ending in a row. Though he hadn’t actually said it, Sharon knew that
her husband was disappointed in his son and although it hurt, she could understand it.

Keith had seen himself doing all the dad stuff with his son like kicking a football around and teaching him to ride a bike. But Bobby wasn’t interested and lacked the coordination to be
any good at either. Sharon suggested that Keith do things with his son that
he
enjoyed and not the other way round, but that hadn’t worked, either. When Keith tried
to play with Bobby and his trains or cars, his son got agitated. All he wanted to do was line them up and, even then, it had to be a specific order, which neither of his parents had managed to
decipher. Keith had given up. These days he hardly talked to his son, which broke Sharon’s heart and she was finding it harder and harder to hide her resentment.

When they talked it was about the trivia of life. What bills needed paying, were the bins out, and whether they should convert the playroom into an office. It was full of unused toys. There were
only a few precious things that Bobby bothered with and they fitted into a small box that he kept by his bed. Once he was asleep, Sharon watched television while Keith messed about on his laptop
and there was little or no conversation.

As for their sex life, it was almost non-existent, unless they’d had a couple of glasses of wine and Keith was in the mood. Sharon never was. She found it hard to give herself to the man
who was so cold towards her son. But she let him make love to her because it was easier than making an issue of it. She sometimes wondered how much more she could take. Meditation might not help,
but Mum was right: she did need time away from her family. She wasn’t keen on spending it with her mother but at least it would mean escaping this claustrophobic atmosphere for a while.

Suzie emerged from her house in maroon leggings and a matching top, making Sharon feel dowdy in her old tracksuit.

‘How do I look?’ Suzie asked, climbing into the passenger seat.

‘Fine. You do realise that we’re probably going to be lying on a filthy floor?’

Her mum shrugged. ‘I don’t own any sporty type of clothes and the brochure said to dress for comfort.’

‘Your hair’s nice. What made you change the colour?’ Sharon asked. Suzie’s hair had originally been a slightly darker shade of Sharon’s honey-blonde bob.

‘Mandy’s hairdresser talked me into it. He said it would suit my colouring. It’s all part of the new me.’

‘Are you after a man?’ Sharon joked, waiting for the usual rebuke. She and Jess had been trying to fix Mum up for years but Suzie would have none of it.

‘I’m after several,’ her mother retorted. ‘If I am going to put myself out there, then I intend to have fun.’

‘Are you pulling my leg?’ Sharon asked with a nervous giggle.

Suzie frowned. ‘No. Why?’

‘It’s just that you’ve never dated before. You met dad and married him.’

‘I dated a couple of boys before him,’ Suzie assured her.

‘But none since. So, why now?’

‘This feels like a fresh start. There are lots of things I want to do.’

‘I thought you were happy,’ Sharon said, feeling upset for some reason.

‘I was. I am. My life’s been fine but boring. Now I want more.’

‘More what?’

Suzie shrugged. ‘I’d like to try new things, visit new places and make new friends. I want to live my life to the full.’ She grinned over at Sharon. ‘I may even get a
tattoo.’

‘Great.’ Sharon shuddered, imagining her mother turning into a Madonna or Cher lookalike.

It was quite dark inside the hall and Sharon wondered how often this floor was cleaned. The teacher called for quiet, told them to remove their shoes and find a comfortable
position. Sharon began to twist and turn and fidget, making her mother roll her eyes and sigh. She continued to strive to get comfortable but she couldn’t help wondering who had last used the
mat she was sitting on. The teacher had told them to close their eyes and concentrate on her voice or the soothing music and breathe deeply. Sharon seemed to be the only one having a problem
complying. Her mother sat cross-legged beside her, perfectly serene.

‘Relax.’

Sharon looked up to see the teacher looking down at her, smiling. ‘I can’t find a comfortable position and, the more I try to concentrate, the faster my breathing is and the less
relaxed I am. Sorry.’ She gave a nervous titter. ‘I don’t think I’m cut out for this.’

The woman’s eyes flickered to Suzie. ‘It comes easier to some than to others. There’s no right or wrong way. If concentrating on your breathing doesn’t work for you, try
closing your eyes and let your mind wander and enjoy the feeling of doing nothing, of simply being.’

Sharon let out a long sigh. It was true she didn’t get much time to just ‘be’. When she wasn’t looking after Bobby she was cleaning or cooking or shopping, all the time
worrying about her son. Was it any wonder she was exhausted?

‘Clench and unclench your toes and fingers a few times. Tense your entire body for ten seconds, then release. That will help you to relax.’

Sharon did as she was told, and then let out a long sigh.

‘Good, very good.’ The teacher smiled her approval. ‘There’s no time limit on this and no exam to pass. Just enjoy the peace.’ She moved on to advise someone else
leaving Sharon clenching and unclenching.

‘Wasn’t that brilliant?’ Suzie said on the way home. ‘I feel so rested.’

‘I’m not surprised. You fell asleep.’

‘I did not. I was just concentrating on my breathing.’

‘You were snoring, Mum.’ Sharon grinned.

‘I wasn’t . . . was I?’ Her mother laughed. ‘Ah, feck it! I’m sure I wasn’t the first and I won’t be the last. Are you glad you came
along? I know that I bullied you into it but I thought the break would do you good.’

‘It did,’ Sharon had to admit. Although she hadn’t managed to relax quite as much as her mother, she did feel calmer.

‘You should practise those exercises in bed at night and dump those sleeping tablets,’ Suzie said.

‘Maybe,’ Sharon said, although she couldn’t imagine sleeping a wink without her little white pills, which brought at least five precious hours of oblivion.

‘Coming in for a cuppa?’ Suzie asked as Sharon stopped outside her house.

‘No, thanks. I’m bushed.’

Suzie grinned. ‘Don’t forget, clench and release.’

Sharon laughed. ‘I won’t. Night, Mum.’

‘Bye, love, safe home.’

Sharon pulled away, thinking how, whenever they used to part, Mum would always say, ‘Hugs and kisses to my little angel.’ Now she rarely mentioned Bobby unless it was to give out
about him. Sharon swallowed the lump in her throat. There was no use in crying. Her mother was a different person now and she just had to accept that.

Before Sharon got the front door open, she could hear Keith yelling and Bobby’s wails. She closed her eyes and took a moment before letting herself in and hurrying upstairs.

‘Bobby, for the last time, put on these pyjamas or you can sleep outside.’ This was greeted with a terrified wail.

‘Keith? What’s going on?’ Her husband was on their bed, Bobby pinned between his thighs. He was so busy shouting that he was oblivious of her. ‘Keith, stop.’ With
an effort Sharon kept her voice calm, but her grip on his arm as she pulled him off her son would leave him in no doubt that she was furious. ‘What the hell are you doing?’ she hissed,
determined not to enter a shouting match that would further upset Bobby.

Keith stiffened. ‘He won’t get ready for bed.’

Sharon looked at the pyjamas in his hand. ‘They’re the wrong ones. He only wears the blue pair.’

‘But they’re the same except for the colour.’

‘You can either let him put on the blue ones or spend the rest of the night arguing. Which would you prefer?’

Keith climbed off his son and shoved the pyjamas into her hands in disgust. ‘You do it. This is fucking madness. I’ve had enough.’

He stormed downstairs while she gathered a trembling Bobby into her arms. ‘It’s okay, darling. Daddy’s had a bad day.’

Bobby sobbed, as she led him to the bathroom. She smothered a sigh as she realised he’d wet himself. Keith must have really scared him. She’d need to do lots of deep breathing to
stop herself from throttling her husband. She helped Bobby wash and change into the blue pyjamas before putting him to bed, all the while murmuring soothing endearments.

It was nearly an hour before he finally drifted off and she slipped out of his room. She leaned against the banister, exhausted and trembling, debating whether to confront her husband or just go
to bed. The latter would be more sensible, easier, but she remembered the sight of Keith trembling with rage over her cowering son and knew that she couldn’t ignore this. If she had arrived
home a few minutes later, would Keith have hit him? Was he capable of it? She’d never thought so but seeing him so out of control tonight had scared her. Sharon did a few clenches and
unclenches and went downstairs. If she was to get through to her husband she’d have to keep her temper in check.

Keith was slouched on the sofa watching a football match, can of beer in hand, pretending to be absorbed in the game. He might appear calm, but Sharon could tell from the tension in his jaw that
he was still fuming. With Bobby or her? Probably both. She felt suddenly weary of the constant war she was waging and not just with Keith. Sometimes it felt as if it were she and Bobby against the
entire world. Well, it was time to change all that. Keith was her husband and Bobby’s father and they deserved his support and loyalty and love. She wondered about the last word. Did Keith
love them? It hadn’t felt that way in a long time. He seemed to be drifting further away every day.

Sharon sat down opposite him, finally ready to confront something she’d been trying so hard to ignore. ‘Keith, I think that we should take Bobby to see a doctor.’

‘There’s nothing wrong with him other than he’s a spoiled brat,’ he retorted.

‘I think there’s more to it than that.’

‘I don’t.’ He turned down the volume and sat forward, his eyes beseeching hers. ‘Let’s try it my way for a while, Sharon. He needs strong parenting, that’s
all.’