Once Upon a Time in England by Helen Walsh

Author:Helen Walsh [Helen Walsh]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781847676139
Publisher: Canongate Books
Published: 2008-08-25T04:00:00+00:00

After walking Ellie home, changing out of his school uniform and cramming a small selection of treats into the pockets of his parka – namely a packet of Wotsits, a Viscount biscuit and a Twix – Vincent headed for his bridge under the mantle of dusk. From up here, in the falling light, his street seemed scarcely to exist, but closer, a little way up the dirt track that flanked the canal, the lights of a caravan became apparent as the gloaming hardened around it. Vincent’s heart grew heavy as he sank deeper into his thoughts. He’d tuned in to his mother’s turmoil the morning his father hadn’t come home and how he wished he’d had the fortitude to speak to her, to lend her his support. More and more his father was giving vent to his disapproval about this or that, his latest bête noire being her friendship with Liza. Yet his mother remained keen to please him. She nourished and nurtured family equilibrium by way of a conspiracy of silences, of sacrifices, of putting up and shutting up – and it made Vincent seethe. Sometimes, his dad would come home from the pub a little earlier than usual, stumble into the living room where they’d be snuggled up watching Coronation Street or Dynasty and he’d screw up his nose in disgust and spit, ‘Jesus, She! You’re not watching this, are you?’

The inference was that he, the worker, had been grafting at the coalface while they, the dilettantes, had sat around painting their toes and smoking opium. This was Sheila’s cue to shuffle off into the kitchen and tend to his tea. Without fail his mother would pull the same hurt face, instantly transforming it into an embarrassed, caught-out smile, and off she would scuttle. How he wanted to race over and slam his fists into his father’s face. Of course they were watching Coronation Street! They’d been looking forward to it since Monday night’s episode. It was something they did – together! Why didn’t he just stay down by the canal or the caravan site or wherever it is he went when he was pretending to work overtime? God, how he would have loved to say that – to stop his reddening father mid-sentence and say to him, ‘Was that you I saw down at the caravan site, Dad? No? Oh, nothing – just wondering. Don’t see that many orange Lada Rivas round here, do you?’

That would make him think twice before he came barging into his bedroom, wanting to catch him out, always thinking the worst of him. But it was his mother Vincent most wanted to shake. She seemed unwilling or incapable of recognising her own worth in the relationship. She was the one who cooked and cleaned and helped them with their homework and got them ready for school and went to parents’ evenings when Dad cried off with some last-minute excuse. She did the shopping and dealt with the bills and prepared their packed lunch and looked after the garden and bathed Ellie and read her bedtime story.

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