Ben
The bell rang again and Ben relished standing up in his underwear in front of his brother and walking to the front door. He felt grimy and smelly but now he was at this stage of his protest (the 'I'm mad so I'm going to look ridiculous so you all know YOU'RE ridiculous' kind of protest) he couldn't back down, even though he had a feeling meeting his mother for the first time in years in nothing but dirty pants was a bad idea. He opened the door with a flourish but quickly slammed it shut when he saw who was there.
"Have I caught you at a bad time Ben, love?" shouted Sally from the other side of the door.
He didn't answer.
"It's just that you left your wallet at the cafe and I thought id better return it, save you leaving your poor handicapped brother again."
He raged quietly, knowing that his silence was only going to make her more persistent. He grabbed a leather coat from the hook on the wall and put it on, hoping it was long enough to cover his stained underwear.
"Hi Sally, um I'm sorry about that. I wasn't expecting it to be you," he said sheepishly, wrapping the coat around him and hugging his body protectively.
"That's alright love, though listen, you'll be wanting to change those dirty kegs before your mum gets here, that's not a good start now is it? And I expect Atta will be heading over too, you're not a pretty sight for an old woman."
"It's Mrs Monroe," said Ben absentmindedly.
"Sure thing," said Sally shrugging. "Well I'd better be off. Left the cafe in the untrustworthy hands of Jim the builder, and I'll bet you a tenner he's helped himself to a kitkat. Bye then." She waddled away down the street and Ben looked at himself, suddenly ashamed at his childish behaviour. He took the coat off and walked down the hall to his room where he quickly changed, regretting that there was no time for a shower too.
By the time he put on a t shirt and smart jeans there was someone at the door. He suddenly felt nervous and ran his fingers through his hair. He answered the door and saw before him a slight woman with short brown hair biting her nails and glancing around as though she felt guilty. She held a plastic bag in her hands but that was all she carried. She turned to look at Ben and cried.
"I'm sorry," she said, sniffling and wiping her nose on the sleeve of her cardigan. "I thought I'd be ok. Hi Benji."
"Hi."
"You're...you're looking good Benj. So, so good."
"Thanks." It wasn't sullenness that was making him retort with short answers, it was the inability to answer fully without feeling like he would break down. They stared at each other for a moment. Ben felt he should let her in but he wasn't ready...he needed a moment just the two of them, before Giles started reconciling them in his cheery way, before he scolded Ben for not welcoming their mother more warmly.
"Are you - are you ok?" he finally managed to ask.
She looked thoughtful for a moment before answering.
"I'm better than I have been. In fact feeling quite good. I'm living with a friend of a friend...she's a bit posh but she doesn't mind me, so long as I pull my weight and watch master chef with her. It's a better place than I was in this time last year, I can tell you." She tried to laugh at the last part but Ben knew there was nothing funny about it.
He pulled back from the door and was about to ask her in when she put her hand on his arm and asked him to wait for a moment. He faltered, it was cold outside and he was freezing. 'She must be feeling it too' he thought ...'unless...?'
"I've built up quite an immunity to the cold," she said as if she had read his mind, "I don't feel it much any more. I just want to say, before Giles tries to make things right, that I'm sorry. More sorry than you could ever know. I should never have left you, never reacted so badly when...when your father died." Although she managed to keep a steady voice Ben could see how hard it was for her to speak of him.
He looked down at his feet but couldn't say anything. He stood away so she could walk past him and in to see Giles. He stood leaning against the door post for a moment, plucking up the courage to go back in, when Atta walked round the corner and stopped in her tracks at the sight of him.
"Sally informed me that you left your wallet at the shop. You might want to check that everything is accounted for, she does have a tendency to go through and take things that look interesting...photos of people's husbands, stamped coffee cards...even a lock of hair once." Ben grimaced and then despite himself, smiled.
"Atta," he said thoughtfully after a moment, "would you rather swim in sick or swim in spiders?"
She looked at him and he thought she would reprimand him, but she just said, "spiders. I may not have much hair but I don't fancy clumps of carrot getting stuck in my perm. Costs a lot of money to look this good." She pushed past him, tapping his cheek affectionately as she did so.
Ben watched her walk away from him and shut the front door, resigning himself to the strange few hours he was about to have.
"I hope you don't mind," said their mum after Ben had made hot drinks and served biscuits on a plate, "but I made a cake. It's an upside down cake, I haven't made one for years! Do you remember how much you used to love them Ben?" She looked at him expectantly but he just nodded his head silently.
"I love a good upside down cake, is it pineapple or Apple?" said Atta, glaring at Ben.
"It's pineapple. Ben used to love all things pineapple - I used to make cheese and pineapple on sticks at their parties, you remember Giles? You would eat the cheese and Ben would eat the pineapple. I didn't bother putting them together in the end."
"I remember," said Giles. "I only used to give the pineapple to Ben though because he threatened to tell you that I had broken the vase with the little girl on if I didn't. I quite liked pineapple actually." Giles looked at Ben and laughed but he got no response from his brother, who was staring at the opposite wall.
"YOU broke the vase with the little girl on?" she gasped. "I always thought Ben had done it, he looked as guilty as hell when I walked in and saw it smashed on the ground."
"Actually I did smash it," said Ben, folding his arms and looking his mother straight in the eye. "Giles knocked it off the table by charging into it with a cushion tied around his waist but when I went to see if it had survived all that happened was a slight chip. So I told him from behind the sofa that it had cracked in two and couldn't be repaired. He was so worried he ran out of the room and didn't check. So I smashed it. Then you walked in."
There was silence at this revelation...Giles had spent years retelling that story to his friends, and he looked at Ben frowning.
"Well you really would've done anything for pineapple it seems," his mother said, trying to make light of it.
"You little..." started Giles.
"It's ok love, I never really liked that vase anyway. My mum gave it to me as a wedding present but I think she was given it in the first place. No stress."
There was an awkward silence in the room and everyone shuffled in their seats, trying to think of something to say. Suddenly three voices spoke at once.
"Lovely weather today," said Atta.
"Can I have some cake?" asked Giles.
"Maybe I'd better be going," said their Mum, looking at Ben with something like desperation in her eyes.
"No mum, you're not going anywhere," said Giles. "He's the one being rude, he should go."
"It's my flat!" Said Ben incredulously. "Let's not forget that until an hour ago I thought my mum was probably dead somewhere having been beaten up by her boyfriend, and I hadn't even heard of you Atta, yet here you both are sitting on my sofa and trying to make friends. I don't need new friends and I don't need a mother. I said I would try to forgive you but maybe I've got a few questions I need answering first."
Atta and Giles looked at him thunderously and atta was about to reprimand him when his mother nodded.
"Of course. What do you want to know?"
"Where do I begin? Hm, why did you leave us? Two young boys who had done nothing wrong, a father who had died and wasn't to be spoken of and a mother who absconded with a bully...the oldest cliche in the book."
His mother paused for some time and Ben thought she was going to cry again. He was not an unkind person and this went against the grain seeing his mother upset like this but he needed answers and she was the only one who could give them.
Finally she spoke.
"When I met your dad I was young and impressionable. I had just come out of a relationship with a guy 10 years older than me. He was always jealous of anyone I spoke to and possessive didn't come close. I was only 17. So I managed to break away from him...I thought he would never give me up but some strong words from my father convinced him. I was feeling vulnerable but needed...I was never very good at being alone... so I went out every night looking for a good time, looking for someone to have a laugh with. One night this drunk bloke started flirting with me, being rude and obnoxious and something felt wrong about him. I tried walking away from him but he kept grabbing me and demanding I kiss him. He started hurting me so I pushed him and before I knew what had happened I had been punched in the gut and thrown to the floor. Anyway, your father was my knight in shining armour, he punched the bloke in the face then scooped me up and carried me out where he put me in a taxi and sent me home. As I was in his arms I looked at him closely and realised that I recognised him...he had been in my school, a few years above me. He had always been kind to me. We didn't say a word to each other but I turned around and looked at him as the taxi drove away and I knew then that he was the one. I tried finding out where he lived or worked but no-one remembered him. But then a few months later I saw him again at a party and we got chatting. That was it. We fell hard for each other, and married a year later. My dad wasn't happy at first and wanted us to wait but I was 18 then and didn't need anyone's blessing. My parents loved him in time though and thought marrying him was the best thing I had ever done.
"We were really happy the both of us...some people told us that the first year of marriage is the hardest. Well we never found that, we enjoyed every moment we had together. Ours wasn't a special story, nothing
momentous, but we didn't want that. We just wanted each other. Then I got pregnant and our lives were even more perfect, he was just so happy.
"He was great with kids, loved them, and when I told him he cried with happiness...that's where you get your love of crying from, Ben."
"I told you," interrupted Atta smugly.
"I do not have a 'love of crying' ok?" Ben snapped indignantly.
"Ok little brother, it's ok. Don't cry."
Atta and Giles laughed together conspiratorially and Ben glared at them both, thoroughly unamused by the pair of them.
His mother looked away with a ghost of a smile on her face and continued, saving her son from any further embarrassment.
"I was happy too, of course, though I didn't feel ready. And I knew I would struggle sharing your father with anyone. Giles was due in the November but didn't want to come out...you stubbornly stayed in even when they tried inducing you," she turned to her oldest son and smiled warmly. "Eventually it was on an icy day in December you decided to make an appearance, I had to hold on to your father for dear life to get down the steps to the car. It was freezing and I just kept looking at the Christmas lights to get me through each contraction. When you were born I held you in my arms and cried, feeling like anything was possible.
"A few days later however and I realised that I knew nothing about babies...I was an only child...and I started getting panic attacks. They would cloud my judgment, they sent me spiralling out of control, to the point where one time I left you on your own in the house and ran to a neighbours all because I didn't know how to stop you crying. When your father got home I told him I couldn't cope any more and that I wanted it to be the two of us again. He helped calm me down but I don't think he realised the extent of my depression. Because I know now that's what it was, but they didn't really have a label for it back then.
"Months passed, I still struggled but I learnt to hide it better. Then I fell pregnant again and I knew that it would finish me. Don't get me wrong, I looked at you, Giles, and thought you were lovely...handsome, bright, sweet...but I couldn't handle you, always on the go, into everything. Before I continue, I just...I just want you to know something Ben. I have had a tough few years but nothing was as difficult as those few months were. Because I tried everything I could to lose you."
Ben looked at her, horrified. When he asked for answers, he wasn't expecting this. She continued speaking as though she was reliving every moment however, had a faraway look in her eyes.
"I won't go into what I did, but needless to say none of it worked. It was mostly old wives tales anyway. But your father knew nothing of it, and when I got to 5 months and started showing, he would press his face to my tummy and talk to you. I would tolerate it and it actually made me feel closer to you, knowing that we had a bond of this man. But I knew that I wouldn't cope once you were born.
"You were due in the July but I believe that you heard the laughter from your older brother and the noises from the outside and decided that you had to come out early, so next thing I knew I was in labour a month early and crying because Jim was stuck in work and unable to get me in to the hospital. I left Giles with a neighbour and called a taxi. Your dad drove to the hospital and found me trying desperately not to push a few hours later. Atta was my midwife and I couldn't have done it without her, you were amazing Atta."
The old lady grabbed her hand and squeezed it.
"As soon as jim walked through the door I pushed an almighty push and you slid right out, even though you were a big baby...9lbs 10. Turns out they got the dates wrong and you were right on time. I didn't care at that point though, I was just happy you were out. And I looked at you and knew that I loved you...loved you both, but that my head was wired differently somehow, and that my love would never be easy, never be conventional. Your dad cried buckets, kept telling me he was so proud, and how much he loved our boys with every part of him. I think it was a little slip, but he didn't once tell me he loved me or that I was amazing for giving birth to our boys. And it sort of stuck with me, going round and round my head like a hornet in a nest...it turned me bitter, unhinged somehow. And the longer time went without him telling me, the bitterness grew, I took it out on you boys. On both of you but especially you Benjamin. You were young, little, but I couldn't look at you without thinking about him and how he maybe didn't love me any more.
"It was absurd, I can see now that he loved me and that he probably even told me but I wouldn't listen and when he did tell me I would shrug and think he was just saying it to make me happy. He started looking at me differently, with genuine concern. He would 'pop' home early to surprise me and see me upstairs in bed, the two of you on your own in the playpen downstairs. Or he would see me watching the TV and Giles would be spreading nappy cream or something all over the carpet. I can honestly say I remember very little of those first few years, other than it was dark and awful.
"He helped so much...did so much but it was no good. I was a useless mother, I just wanted things to be how they were before. And then he died. As you remember, I went to pieces, I threw away any memories of him, I fell deeper into my black hole and couldn't see the light, even on the sunniest and brightest of days. Life without him was too awful and I struggled before children to be alone so you can imagine exactly how tough it was when he wasn't there any more."
"And that's when Atta started coming over. I bumped into her one day and she asked me how things were. I practically ignored her and she followed me home. Saw the state we were in so tried to help. I couldn't care less at the time, told her to do whatever she wanted. It was a miracle you didn't call social services."
"Well I thought the boys would be separated if that happened. Plus your parents helped often, and I was around whenever you needed me." Atta patted her hand again and looked at Ben.
"And then Giles got sick and that was that. You buggered off and stayed away for good. I don't know how I am ever supposed to forgive you?"
"I don't either Ben. But I...I've changed. I promise you I have. I just need some time to show you."
Ben looked at her for a moment, suppressing the overwhelming feelings of sadness and darkness that were creeping over him. How different his life could have been if his father hadnt died. Or if his mother had been wired differently. He stood up abruptly and went to the kitchen, taking the cake with him.
"I'll cut this. I'll be back now."
In the kitchen He took the cake out of the tin and grabbed a knife from the draw. Frantically he began cutting the cake, willing the tears to stay back, but he wasn't watching what he was doing and he nicked his hand with the knife. He threw the knife into the sink and grabbed the nearest tea towel, wrapping it around his hand and fighting the sobs. It was no use, he held the tea towel up to his face and tried smothering the cries into it, praying desperately that no-one would come to find him. He cried and cried, letting the bad stuff out, the hurt he had carried for so long. Was it possible for him to forgive? Could he ever love his mother? She came into the kitchen and threw her arms around him tightly. He was about to find out.
Chapter 16
Now
Agatha
'Why are they looking at me like that?' she thought, beginning to worry she had smudged her mascara or developed a spot.
"Carry on," she said to Ben.
"No," he said back. "We have all night long to savour this letter. Tell us about the shoes."
"Oh there's nothing to tell," she said, waving her hand dismissively. I just did what all of you would have done."
"Not me," said Ruby, "I love jingly shoes."
"Nor me," said Charles. "But not because they jingle."
"See. You're a good person."
Ben studied her face for a few moments, enjoying the way a slow blush was warming up her cheeks.
"Mulled wine anyone? Coffee? Tea?"
"Have you got hot chocolate?" asked Charles.
"Yes," she replied.
"Then stay there and I will go and make some. It's my speciality." Charles shot up off the floor and went to the kitchen. Ruby, sensing her presence might not be wanted scooted after Charles quickly.
"Coming Charles boy," she yelled, "it's my speciality too."
Charles
'The short one came in the kitchen with me,' thought Charles. 'Does this mean that she likes me and wants to kiss me? I don't think that would be nice.'
"Hey Charles boy, so how do you make hot chocolate then?'
Charles looked down at his feet and tried to remember what his mother had told him about social occasions. 'Make eye contact, be polite, be friendly.' Charles grinned the widest grin he could, looked into her eyes and fixed a stare on her.
He stayed in that position for some time, not knowing what to say. Ruby just looked right back, grimacing.
"Hello, Earth to Charles!" She waved her hands in front of his face, trying to snap him out of the weird trance.
"Sorry, I thought I was supposed to...anyway, I make really good hot chocolate. The secret is in the milk."
He proceeded to tell her each and every step involved in making the perfect hot chocolate with immense detail.
Ruby.
'How shall I kill myself? Knife wound? No, too much blood. Drowning? No, I like breathing. Death by rats? Maybe.' Ruby took the sharp knife that had been drying by the sink and started cleaning the dirt from under her nails with it. She glanced up and saw Charles look at her with utter disdain. 'Good', she thought, 'it worked.' He continued making the drinks in silence then she helped him carry them in.
Ben
Ben shifted in his seat and felt her leg against his. They were in close proximity and neither of them had moved, even after the other two had made their obvious departure. His hand was close to hers and he looked up at her to see if she had noticed. She looked back at him and their eyes locked for a moment, full of meaning and longing. He felt himself blushing, it had been a long time since a girl had looked at him like this, when he felt the same back. Feeling brave he inched his hand closer to hers and felt a jolt of electricity flow through him as he touched her skin. He hooked his little finger around hers and they sat in silence, just looking into each other's eyes and speaking reams.
The other two walked back in then with mugs of chocolate and their hands flew to their laps, both smiling over enthusiastically. Ruby raised her eyebrows questioningly but Charles didn't notice and simply thrust a mug at both of them.
"Here," he said, "try this. Best hot chocolate you'll ever taste."
He appeared to want an immediate response so they both took a sip and although it burnt their tongues Ben had to admit it tasted good, even for something so sweet.
"It's good," said Agatha approvingly, "how did you get it so thick?"
"You really don't want to ask that question," said Ruby, "not unless you want to forget Christmas altogether and just jump to the new year."
Charles tutted and was about to reply when Ben cut in with "shall we finish the letter?" They all sat back down, this time with Ruby sitting on the beanbag in the corner, taking her time to get comfortable and making a hell of a noise in the process. Ben glanced at Agatha and they smiled shyly at each other, sharing a secret, but Charles got more cross, more agitated until finally he blurted out "get on with it for goodness sake."
Ruby looked at him lazily and stopped. But when he was about to speak again she shifted one more time.
"Shall I continue?" Ben asked finally.
Agatha
"No, just one minute," Agatha said, jumping up suddenly. She put on a cd of carols quietly in the background and lit a cinnamon scented candle.
She turned and saw three faces look confused.
"Sorry," she said, I'm just feeling really Christmassy all of a sudden."
"That will be the effect of the hot chocolate," said Charles.
"Yeah yeah, just read the bloody letter," said Ruby bluntly. "Sorry," she added to Agatha.
"Right then, where were we?"
Agatha sat down in the same spot and gazed at the full Christmas tree with its handmade decorations and white fairy lights, while Ben continued reading.
"Of course I had to wait another month until I could afford to buy her any more shoes but when I could we went for cheaper ones and avoided the poorer areas of town. But it was almost as though Agatha was looking out for the family, willing the girl to be there so she could give her something else...in fact I am almost certain that she wore her favourite blue beaded bracelet that day because she was planning on giving it to her if she saw her. On the bus ride home she almost looked disappointed at something, though she assured me that she liked her shoes.
Anyway enough about the shoes. She's perfect, this we know. However due to my unfortunate and untimely death, my only granddaughter is left completely and utterly alone."
"That's not true," Agatha interrupted, "I've got plenty of friends and, um, neighbours around." The company looked at her with sympathy. "I have!"
"I was the only one to ever take an interest in her, although she was bright and well loved at school. The other Children adored her and she was always so popular. But my Agatha needs people around her to take care of her. She needs love and affection and support. She needs a strong female friend who will tell her that she has amazing legs which need to be shown off and who will eat ice cream late at night with her. She needs an annoying brother figure in her life who will test her and try her but who will always be loyal to her. She needs a male friend who will take her out on his arm to a party from time to time to show her off, to take her for coffee or watch scary films so she can hide her face into his arm. These things she needs. I played the part for a while but I didn't do so well with the scary films because mostly I needed to hide my face into her arm. She was left to fend for herself.
What I am asking you all very kindly is to be there for her, to be the support network she needs, the love and encouragement she deserves and the fun she doesn't know she can have yet. In turn my lovely Agatha will look after you and be the most dependable, loyal, committed, trustworthy friend you could ever ask for.
I miss you all terribly; we did have some good times didn't we? Charlie, do you remember the cheese incident? I don't think I ever laughed so hard. Ruby, I know you are a tough nut on the outside but you have a tender side to you and you must must MUST go back to music because your rendition of Somewhere Over the Rainbow is by far the most exquisite I have ever heard. And Ben, it is time to let go of your brother. Live your own life now. I demand this of you because you are far too precious to throw it all away. And Agatha I have bestowed on you three very special people, they were mine but I give them to you. They are my legacy. You, my four lovelies, are my pride and joy. Be blessed, love, and enjoy.
Agatha Monroe.
Agatha wiped away her tears as Ben gave her the letter to keep. She folded it carefully and put it back in the envelope.
Charles
'Her name was Agatha. Huh. Didn't know that. And what does she mean I've got to be a brother to her? I don't want to be a brother, and I certainly don't want a sister.' He drank the last of his hot chocolate and ran his finger round the inside of the mug to lick the dregs.
Ruby
Ruby was determined that she wouldn't cry. Atta had meant so much to her in the last few years and it had been hard coming to terms with losing her. She had only been to see her once when she was in hospital, and it had been too much to bear, thinking that life could go on without her. But she wasn't going to cry, she didn't ever cry, not in front of anyone.
Ben
Everyone suddenly seemed so down and forlorn. This was Christmas, the snow was falling, the carols playing. He loved Christmas, it was just the best time of the year. He was not going to let everyone be depressed.
"Would you rather," he started, and everyone groaned.
"Come on, it's a good one. Would you rather have 13 eyes anywhere on your body but at least four of them have to be on your head- they can look In any direction, or would you rather have one massive eye on your forehead that can see through things and a really long distance away?"
He looked at them expectantly and waited for a response.
"Ok I'll go first, I would have one big eye because how on earth would you get that many pairs of sunglasses to cover 13 eyes! You'd be wandering round in the sun like.." He demonstrated walking around blinded by the sun but still no-one seemed impressed.
"Go on Aggs, you have a go."
Agatha took a deep breath.
Agatha
Agatha flinched at the use of the nickname coming from his lips. She wasn't used to anyone else using that name, but...she didn't dislike the way it sounded.
"Well I suppose...I suppose one big eye would be alright."
"Is that it? You have to say why," said Ben.
"Um, because...you'd have to buy less mascara I suppose. I don't know, I don't really play games."
"Ok, that's not good enough. I have got some bloody brilliant games for us to play. But first," interjected Ruby, "I would have 13. Easily. You got one eye that can see through things, big deal. If you had 13 you could have them on your fingers, how cool would that look? Then the 4 on your face you could put different coloured lenses in, make a masterpiece out of your face. Way cooler."
"But why would you want your face to be a masterpiece?" Said Charles, his usual look of confusion on his face. "It's already perfect."
They all looked at him and Ruby actually glowed, despite trying to laugh it off.
Charles
'I don't understand games like this,' thought Charles, who genuinely had no idea what they were talking about. 'And why are they all looking at me like that? The little one looks like she's about to cry. What did I do now?"
Ruby
'Stop blushing, stop blushing, just STOP!' Ruby willed herself, but it was no good. 'Just when you think you can contain the little girl inside she pops up at the first compliment that a man gives you.'
Ben
"Maybe you should paint her face," said Ben jokingly a few moments later, trying to lessen the awkwardness that had descended.
"Why would I do that? I only said it was perfect, I didn't say that I liked it," Charles shrugged, still unsure what the fuss was about. Ben wished he had kept his mouth shut but Ruby almost looked relieved.
"Good," she said, "because I think yours is perfect, but I don't like yours either." She grinned and Charles gave a lopsided grin back, still obviously bewildered.
"You haven't said what you would rather Charles boy," said Ben.
"Oh, I don't know."
"Come on, you have to play too. 13 small or 1 large?"
"Oh I have ommetaphobia, so this is quite the worst question you could ask."
"You have o-what?"
"Ommetaphobia. It's the fear of eyes." Charles shuddered and scratched his head.
"A fear of eyes? Could this night get any weirder?" asked Ruby.
"Ok well you ask one then," said Ben. "A would-you-rather question."
"What's the point of it?"
"Does there need to be a point?"
"There always needs to be a point. Otherwise why bother?"
"I think it's called 'fun' Charles," said Agatha with a twinkle in her eye.
"I don't really understand fun," he said, "though I suppose cooking a new recipe from Good Housekeeping is quite exciting. Once they had a pear and ginger Christmas pudding. It was the best day," he sighed.
Ben caught Agathas eye and they smiled again at each other. 'I'm developing quite a soft spot for you, girly,' he thought to himself.
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