CHAPTER 45
I tugged her out of the marquee and around behind the burger van, where the blast from the band was partially blocked, replaced by the chugging of a small electrical generator.

“What do you mean, Mam?”

“I can’t feel it, love. I mean, I can hear it, feel the sound in my gut. I just can’t FEEL it, can’t move to it!”

She paused, shaking her head and staring down at the generator, before looking back up at me.

“Deb, when you drive, it’s automatic, isn’t it? You don’t think all the time, ‘hey, turn the wheel a bit to follow the road’, do you? Your body just does it for you. It feels like that. I went to rock out…”

I could see her distress even in the half-light spilling through the gaps in the canvas behind us.

“Could it be that you’re not pissed enough?”

She shook her head.

“When have I ever needed to be out of it, love? What the fuck is up with me?”

I thought hard.

“Mam, how many times have we chatted about my problems recently?”

“Fuck knows, love”

“Well, I don’t know how many, but what I do know is that it’s a lot, and it’s all been in one massive hit. I’ve been dealing with it as it happens, and you’ve just had it dumped on you every day since you picked me up at Hexham. That’s a lot to take in, all in one lump. I think… Look. You talk about my driving, yeah? I’ve had a lot of shit at work, with arseholes who think a women driver is, well, all the stupid jokes, aye? Or the ones who think you’re there for their fun and fancy a grope”

That actually brought a laugh.

“How many have you decked, girl?”

“Um, dunno, your honour. Sweet, innocent me? How could you ever think that?”

She wrapped herself around me, and I spoke gently into her ear.

“Look, let’s just go back in, find somewhere to sit, and get shitfaced. We can rock out another night, when you’re yourself again”

“Yeah, but that’s not fair on you, is it?”

“You think I would ever leave you on your own? Ever?”

“Yeah, but it’s not fair on you!”

I pulled away from her, just far enough to see her eyes.

“For fuck’s sake, did you think I would leave you on your own just because I fancy a bit of a bop? What did I just say? I will never, EVER, leave you! Are we not family, aye? Do I not love you? I wouldn’t even be here if it wasn’t for you…”

I pulled the words back, doing my best to find control.

“No. That sounds wrong. It sounds like some sort of bloody trade agreement. That’s not us. We both know what you and Dad did for me, and I will never forget that, but it isn’t what I mean. I know you two, and I have loved you since I met you, and love, shit, love doesn’t count score. It’s not a fucking profit and loss thing, is it? You say you can still hear the music, yeah?”

“Yes, love. Band’s a good’un”

“Then we do what I said. We find a seat, get some booze down our necks, and we enjoy what we can”

She pulled me to her.

“How did you get so bloody wise?”

“Watching and being with you and Dad”

I towed her back into the marquee and settled her onto one of the straw bales that always lined the sides of the big tent, and headed for the bar, where they were selling cans of stronger ale that they had offered the previous evening. I bought four packs, and wove my way back, the beer stacked stupidly high in front of me.

“How, pet! Want a hand with drinking all that?”

I looked round the top layer at a laughing biker, and gave back my own best grin.

“Na, got my Mam over there, ta!”

“Well, sod that, I’ll gie ye a hand. Howay…”

He eased the two top layers off the stack and smiled down at me.

“The lass in the boots, dark hair?”

“Yup”

“Right… there you are. You OK, hinny?”

He looked genuinely concerned, but Mam was almost back with me, almost herself.

“I’m fine, love. Just been a busy day”

“Ah! Recognise you now. Ye’ve got the bits and pieces stall, haven’t you?”

Another grin.

“Ne wonder ye’re knackered. Had a busy day, aye? Settle yersels down, and if you want owt, burger, whatever, just wave. I’m the treasurer here, so at least I’ll have some money! Canny band tonight. Your tents by the stand?”

I nodded, and he grinned again, pointing at the pile of cans.

“Me and the lads’ll make sure you get home, so ne worries there. Have a good night, girls!”

In the end, we didn’t need him; just. Dad drove the next morning, as we worked our way down towards Hartlepool, and while he sat as silently as he could, it couldn’t last.

“You OK, Loz?”

“I don’t know, love. I really don’t. It all went really odd last night, and I don’t mean from the drink”

Dad simply nodded, eyes on the road, and I understood immediately. They each knew the other so well, and he was letting her tell him only what she felt he needed to know. Each held their trust and their lover so deeply embedded in their soul there was no room for doubt. It hurt me, as it always did, for I understood how rare and priceless a thing that was, and how it would never be a part of my own life.

I knew I was in there with them, that space of love and intimacy, but while a parent loves, they are no lover, not in the way I needed. Mam must have picked up on my mood, for she took my hand.

“Deb was with me last night, love, so I was safe, but I’m not feeling right. It was the music”

“Can’t have been the band, duck. They sounded OK from where I was “

“Aye, love. Deb and me, in the end, we sat on the bales with some cans. They were good, the band. It was me. When I went up for a bop…”

Her voice trailed off, as she shook her head in confusion.

“Ken… I don’t have a fucking clue what happened. I could hear the music, and me and Deb, sitting listening, the band was good, and I could feel the urge to rock out. I just couldn’t. I…”

I caught the catch in her voice, and put a hand to Dad’s arm.

“Pull over, Dad. I’ll drive for now. Think Mam needs you”

There was a lay-by just ahead, and we quickly shuffled Mam into the middle seat as I took the wheel, trying not to look at her tears as Dad and I crossed in front of the van. Once we were safely back on the road, I said my own piece, eyes locked ahead.

“Mam said it best last night, Dad. She said it’s like driving. You just do it, conditioned reflexes, whatever they call it. Mam said she couldn’t feel the music, couldn’t let herself dance. I watched her, shut up for now, Mam. I watched her while we were sitting, and she was into the band, eyes closed, nodding along, and it wasn’t just the drink. It was just the dancing. Mam?”

“Yes, love?”

Her voice was cracking again.

“Thought of another way of describing it, so if I’ve got it wrong, tell me”

“OK, love”

“I can still remember learning to write, printing stuff before I got handwriting sorted”

Some of that while Marie Parsons stood over me with a strap, but leave that bit for now. Deep breath and think of those you love, girl.

“Printing stuff means thinking about each letter. I see people who write signs and stuff at work, and they’re always missing out a letter or two. Doing things in detail, yeah? Handwriting’s different. I think Mam is saying she could print the dancing, but not write it. That how it felt, Mam?”

She found a laugh somewhere.

“Ken, you won’t understand it, cause you’re a bloke, and blokes can’t dance. Too worried someone’s looking at them, unless they’re rat-arsed… Deb, that’s it, yeah? Like I couldn’t let go, like everyone was watching”

Dad made a bad joke about trying again when she was pissed, but I could still remember how we had tried exactly that. It hadn’t worked.

In the end, it was Mam who closed the conversation down, and we did our best as a family to recover our normal routine, as Dad loaded up stock from a wholesaler on the edge of Hartlepool before we spent three days working the markets in Darlington, Northallerton and Tadcaster before Dad drove me into York to catch the first of the trains that would take me back to Cannock. They both spent what felt like hours hugging me, while all I wanted to do, needed to do, was chuck my job and stay with them to make sure that the woman I loved above almost anything was safe and well.

“No, love. I’ll be fine. Got this farting great lump with me, haven’t I? We’ll give you a shout when we’re back over in South Wales, and you can hop a train again. I’ll be back to normal, I’m sure of it”

I would have been alone with my thoughts for far too long, but they were derailed by some tosser, on the train from Derby down to Birmingham, who decided to sit next to me and then put his hand on my thigh. I turned to face him, with as angelic a smile as I could manage.

“Hi! Taking your hand away and fucking off means I won’t use the knife I have next to your bollocks. Leave with them, or without, I don’t give a fuck”

He shuffled sideways, as quickly as he could manage while not actually catching his stiffy on the point of my blade. I didn’t see him again, but he had certainly altered my mood. I kept a weather eye out as I hunted for my last connection in Birmingham, but he seemed long gone. I hoped I had helped educate him a little, but I was sure he would simply write me off as a headcase, and some other young woman would find his hands somewhere she’d prefer they weren’t.

I had a sudden mental image of him trying it on with Rosie, but that simply led to memories I didn’t want to wake, so I bought a copy of Bike. Flipping to the letter page for the Shobba cartoon before settling down to enjoy Ogri on the last page. Get the good stuff out of the way, before settling down to the other bits. It kept me from thinking while I rode the local train to Cannock, and then I had Carol and Peter to hug after a taxi from the station.

What on Earth had I done to deserve such luck in my life?