Chapter 8 The Face in the Mirror
‘Mum, this time I want the truth. I want to know all about how you met dad, and what he was like. Why is it so hard for you to tell me? You’ve always refused to talk about him. Now I want to know everything.’
For some reason talking down the phone line gave Constance a strange form of courage. It made it all seem a lot easier, less confrontational. She felt less intimidated by her mother than she usually did. She had surprised even herself, let alone her mother.
‘Well, OK then, if you’re sure that’s what you want, I’ll tell you everything. But remember, you asked for it. If you don’t like what you hear, you’ve only got yourself to blame.’
Her mother seemed unusually accommodating. It was slightly odd. Somehow Constance felt like she was talking her way into a trap. A trap of her own making. Something didn’t seem quite right, but she couldn’t really put her finger on it.
‘Were you both hippies when you met?’
Her mother burst out laughing, in a high pitched shrieking sort of voice. It was a cackle more than a laugh.
‘Hippies? Do you still believe all that nonsense I used to tell you as a child?’ Her voice turned cold, derogatory. ‘You’re such a fool!’
Her mother’s face hardened, and turned a dark red colour, as she glared at Constance. Her bright eyes radiated hatred. A state of anxiety came over Constance as she saw the ghastly expression on her mother’s face. She tried to understand what was going on, to think of something to say, but she couldn’t open her mouth. The door blew open, and a lean man in his mid twenties walked in, wearing a cowboy hat.
‘Well, is it hot enough for ya?’
Constance couldn’t understand what was going on. Who was he? Where had she heard that phrase before? The man threw his cowboy hat onto the table, and ran his hand slowly through his long hair.
‘Is my dinner ready, woman?’ he said.
Constance’s mother just stood there shrieking with laughter.
‘Say hello to daddy, Constance.’
The man walked across the room, and slapped her mother on the face.
‘I told you to have my dinner ready, woman! Where’s my dinner?’
Her mother didn’t seem to feel the blow. She couldn’t stop laughing.
‘Your daddy was a redneck! And violent, just like Jeff. Are you happy now? Well, are you?’
Constance tried to run away, but she couldn’t move. She was glued to her seat. The man turned to look at her.
‘Is it hot enough for ya? Well, is it hot enough for ya?’
Constance woke up, with a start. Her body was clammy with sweat. She tried not to focus on the unpleasant dream she had had. She turned on her nightlight, and looked at the clock. 5.37. She reached for the water bottle that she always kept by her bed, and took a drink. It wasn’t true, she knew that her father had been a hippy. Hadn’t she seen a photo once? She was sure of it, but couldn’t remember when, or where the photo had been. Maybe she should ask her mother? She flopped back down onto the pillow, with her head. She knew that she would never have the strength to ask her mother anything. She would have these doubts, and holes, in her life forever. She lay there, trying to get back to sleep. Flashes of the dream came to her mind. She tried to block them out, but her mind kept returning to them. Had her father been violent like Jeff? At 6 o’clock she finally gave up trying to get back to sleep, and got up. Maybe after a shower she would be able to concentrate better. She went to the fridge, and took out a bar of chocolate. Just as she was about to start eating it, a wave of disgust came over her. Not disgust for the chocolate, the chocolate held no blame, but disgust for herself. She realised how weak and pathetic her chocolate dependency had made her become. She had managed to get Jeff out of her life, could she really be beaten by a bar of chocolate? Things needed to change. Many things. She lifted the lid from the rubbish bin, and threw the chocolate in. The change had started, well, really, it was continuing more than starting. The change had started with Jeff.
After her shower she would make a breakfast of tea and toast. She felt angry at herself, but didn’t really understand exactly why. Well, the list was long enough, maybe it was for any one of those reasons? Maybe it was for all of those reasons? She went to the bathroom, and had a shower, studiously avoiding looking at herself in the bathroom mirror. Not that that changed anything. She knew how fat she was. She didn’t require a visual reminder. In her bathrobe she went to the kitchen, and prepared her breakfast. Two slices of toast, with marmalade, no butter, and a lovely cup of strong black tea. She was slightly surprised at how nice it tasted. Maybe eating well, wasn’t that difficult after all? Maybe it was all about making the change mentally, rather than physically? Constance knew that she also needed to start doing exercise. She wasn’t really sure just what form that would take, but at least she could start thinking about it. What about doing yoga naked? That sounded like fun. She laughed out loud, and shook her head. Maybe she could sign up at a gym for lessons? Could she do that? Or would she feel too embarrassed to show off her fat body in front of all the fit muscular people she knew she would find there. She tried to imagine herself with a slim, shapely body. Walking along the beach in a bikini, with everyone looking at her in admiration. Could that ever be possible? Probably not, but at least losing a few kilos would be a good start.
The sharp blare of her phone’s ringer bought her back down to earth. Australian prefix. Her mother. Instinctively she reached over to turn the volume down, but then, on the spur of the moment, she decided to answer the phone.
‘Hello?’
‘Finally, I can never get through to you. Either you are off doing lessons, or out with Jeff, or doing whatever it is is you do. Would it be that difficult for you to phone me every now and then? Am I asking too much? It’s not as if I am anywhere other than here at home.’
‘Hello, mum. Yes, I know, it’s just that lately… ‘
‘And what about Jeff? You’ll never find another good catch like him. Are the two of you any closer to getting married?’
Constance burst out laughing. Yes, Jeff was a real catch alright.
‘What on earth have you got to laugh about? I just don’t understand you. If you let him go you will regret it, you know? It’s hard to find someone who earns so much money. You’ve got no idea how hard it is to scrape by on a modest income.’
That comment immediately struck a chord with Constance. Her mother had never remarried after losing her husband. It must have been difficult for her, bringing up two children on her own. Maybe that was why she was so obsessed with her marrying Jeff? Purely for the financial aspect of it.
‘Actually I broke it off with Jeff. He just wasn’t my… ‘
‘Oh, Constance! Why on earth do you always go and do silly things like that? You’ll never find another one like him around. You mark my words!’
‘Mum, I want to know where you and dad met?’
‘Your head is really in the clouds, Constance. You’ve got to focus on your future, instead of daydreaming about all that stuff from years ago. Now, explain to me what on earth made you break up with Jeff? I just can’t understand you, you know?’
Frustrated, Constance tried to think of a way to get back on track with her mother. She certainly had no intention of getting sidetracked with the whole Jeff drama. Besides, her mother would probably just blame her for it all, anyway.
‘Did you ever do yoga, mum?’
‘Yoga? Why on earth would I ever want to do yoga?’
‘Well, I just thought that maybe when you and dad were together you might have… ‘
An image of her mother doing yoga naked came to Constance, and she burst out laughing.
‘What the devil is wrong with you today, Constance? You won’t think it’s so funny when you find yourself on your own. You’ve got to start thinking about your future. Get your head out of the clouds, and start seriously planning where you want to be in ten years time. You’re not getting any younger. Time has a way of catching up on you, and you will find yourself on your own, and struggling.’
An understanding dawned on Constance. For the first time in her life she realised that her mother’s advice to her might well be more about how her life had gone. It was a startling revelation. It certainly carried a great deal of poignancy. Her mother had found herself alone, with two small children, and little money to get by on. That actually explained lot about her mother’s attitude towards her. It was almost as if she didn’t want Constance to have to go through what she went through.
‘Why did you never remarry, mum? You were still young enough when dad died. Didn’t you ever meet anyone that you liked?’
‘Oh, what nonsense! There’s just no talking to you today. Anyway, I’ve got to get off to the shops. Remember to phone me when you’ve got time. Bye for now.’
The line went dead.
Constance wasn’t sure what had surprised her the most. The fact that it was her mother who had ended the conversation, abruptly, instead of her, or that she had finally found the courage to ask some of the questions that she had always wanted to. Also, for the first time she had started to think of things from her mother’s point of view. Why hadn’t she remarried? Had she been so in love with her father that no one else could fill the void? It was strange to think of her mother having been in love. She had always been such a cold, distant person. Well, with Constance anyway. Maybe she hadn’t always been like that. Maybe her husband’s death had changed her? Being left on her own with two young children couldn’t have been easy for her. Was that when her coldness had set in? Maybe the difficult life she had found herself in had turned her cold and bitter. Constance had a lot to think about, not least of all where she had found the courage to even ask her mother those things. Constance went into the bathroom, and looked at herself squarely in the mirror. She felt stronger. Something was changing. She could see it in the person staring back at her. The person looking at her in the mirror seemed bolder, less afraid. Things, about the present, and the past, were starting to come into focus. It seemed like her pathway through life was starting to become a little clearer. As far as her mother was concerned, a strategy was starting to form in her mind. She would chip away at her at the edges, relentlessly, bit by bit, until she finally got all the answers she was looking for. And she would think seriously about joining a gym.
To a certain extent Constance felt herself to be on the cusp of a new beginning. Sure, she still had issues to resolve with her mother, but she felt that things were moving in the right direction even there. She smiled to herself as she thought of how she had made her mother hang up on her. That had never happened before. Like a prize boxer who had his opponent on the ropes, she would drive home her advantage. She would let her mother stew it all over for a while, and then she would phone her. When had that ever happened? She would push for more answers. She would throw punches from the right, and then from the left, and finally she would come in with a massive uppercut which would completely floor her mother. She would win their battle of wits. It was strange for her to feel so optimistic, so in control. Even her aching muscles felt good. She was sore all over. Although, surprisingly, it was an enjoyable pain. It was the pain of effort well spent. The pain of gain. Her first lesson in the gym had gone well, if not with a bit of difficulty, especially the day after. She had barely been able to walk. Probably, in her enthusiasm, she had overdone it all somewhat. Not that her personal trainer had given her much option. He had really pushed her hard. The really surprising thing about it all was that after all her worrying about walking into a gym full of Californian style muscular gods and goddesses, she had actually found the place to be full of ordinary people. People just like her. There had been a lot of overweight people, especially women, and lots of elderly people. She wasn’t alone. Most people were like her. In real life people weren’t actually like the beautiful few you constantly see on the TV. Thinking about it, there was a sort of logic to it all. You go to the gym to get in shape. If you are already in shape you probably have less need to go there. The world as seen on TV was not the same as the real world. Otherwise chocolate sales would have plummeted when she had given it up. Standing there, at the photocopy machine in the school, she realised that instead of running, and hiding from her problems, she had to face them head on. That wasn’t easy, but what was the alternative? There wasn’t one. She was doing the only thing she could. She was confronting her problems, and at the same time confronting herself. Maybe that was how you do it? You needed to accept your own responsibility for the situation you found yourself in, and make the necessary changes to correct that situation. If she didn’t do it, nobody else was going to.
Constance heard the front door of the school open, and turned around. Grace. Again she had been caught during class making photocopies. This time she would make herself heard, she would stand up for herself. Before being browbeaten, she would explain her actions, clearly, and precisely. She spoke in a firm voice that left no room for interruption.
‘Hello Grace, before you start in on me, let me explain, please. One of the kids left his text book at home, and while he can share someone else’s book for the lesson, he needs to have his own copies to do the associated exercises. That’s why I’m… ‘
Grace waved her explanation off with her hand.
‘Oh, those stupid mothers. I don’t know how many times I’ve told them to check that their children have all their books, and pencils, and whatnot. It’s like talking to a brick wall. Honestly, I don’t know why I bother sometimes. No wonder children these days are all so hopeless, with parents like them. It’s not our job to be their mothers. Well, we do what we can, the rest is up to them.’
Grace’s grim expression, the only expression she really had, basically her face, softened slightly.
‘How are you, dear? You look well. Have you put that nonsense with that damned nincompoop behind you? There’s no point in dwelling on that stuff, you know? You’ve just got to move on. Onwards and upwards.’
Constance felt a rush of love go through her for the ex-bane of her life. From what Grace had told her, she had put up with her husband’s abuse for many years. Probably that was what had made her so hard, and embittered towards life. Who could blame her? In the end what she, herself, had gone through, had been pretty mild, compared to the road Grace had travelled. She reached out, put her hand on Grace’s shoulder, and smiled at her.
‘I’m doing just fine, thanks to you Grace. I’ve put ‘that nincompoop’ in my past, and I’m forging ahead. Breaking new ground, so to speak. I can never thank you enough, for what you did for me.’
Grace attempted a smile, something she wasn’t very well practised at.
‘Well, good for you dear. That’s good to hear.’ Her soft voice hardened. ‘Now, you make sure you give that child’s mother a good talking to. I don’t know what’s wrong with mothers these days. They just can’t seem to manage anything. It certainly wasn’t like that in my day.’
In a flash Grace was off into her office. Constance knew that she wouldn’t be giving that child’s mother a talking to. She knew exactly what was wrong with modern day mothers. Kids had so many things to do, so many places to be. Their mothers just couldn’t keep up with it all. If their only problem was forgetting to check that their kid had a text book every now and then, they were probably doing a pretty good job of it all.
That evening, after cleaning the dinner dishes, Constance threw herself on the couch. She had missed not seeing Matt that week. His message had only said that he had to shoot over to London for a few days. Just what was it that he did? She didn’t like to pry, and Matt was a very reserved person, so he never went into much detail about what he was always up to. Anyway, she had quite enough to think about without poking her nose into other people’s affairs. The next evening she would hit the gym. How good that sounded! She was a gym person. She had changed from being a chocolate eating person into being a gym person. What was happening to her? And how? Where were all those changes coming from? A big gaping hole in her life had always been the fact that she didn’t have a father. She had always been slightly aware that that had caused her to be less confident in life. A girl needed her dad, especially when she was growing up. She wondered whether Matt’s stories of his old hippy days were maybe filling in some of the missing facts about her father? How he had lived. The type of person he had been. It was almost as if Matt’s tales were bringing to life her father. Well, that would have been generally how he had been living back in those days. That would have been generally the sort of person he had been. Specifically there was only one person who could really fill in those gaps, only one person who could really answer her questions. Constance looked at her phone. It was time. She knew that if she dwelt on it for too long she would end up not doing it, so she picked up the phone, and dialed the number. After only a few rings her mother picked up.
‘Hello?’
‘Hi, mum, it’s me.’
‘Constance? Do you realise what time it is here? It’s just after 6 in the morning.’
‘Sorry, mum, I forgot to check the time difference. Are you still in bed?’
‘No, I always get up well before 6. I’ve just finished my breakfast.’
Constance had never been able to understand her mother. If she was already up, why complain about the hour? It just didn’t make any sense. They were like two people living in different dimensions. Parallel universes that had no common intersecting point.
‘Listen, mum, I’ve been thinking a lot about dad lately, and I would really like to know more about him.’
‘Oh, what’s the point in dwelling on…’
‘Mum! It’s important to me!’
Constance had interrupted her mother with a raised voice. Both of them were stunned into silence. That wasn’t the way their phone calls, or their relationship in general, usually went. After a brief pause, in which she had regained her composure, Constance continued, in a quieter, but absolutely determined voice.
‘Mum, I really want to know more about him. I never knew him growing up, and you hardly ever spoke about him. Why is it so difficult for you to tell me about him? He was my dad.’
Silence was her only reply.
‘Mum? Are you still there?’
There was another pause.
‘Yes, alright, what is it you want to know?’
‘Well, let’s start at the beginning. Where did the two of you meet?’
‘Well now, let me think. Actually I’m not really sure where… ‘
Constance was sick of her mother’s evasive tactics.
‘Please, mum! I know you remember. Can you please be honest with me? It’s important to me.’
The insistence in Constance’s voice seemed to have an effect on her mother. She answered without further prompting.
‘It was at a music festival in the hills just outside Byron Bay.’
Constance had to put her hand over her mouth to stop herself from bursting out laughing. It was true then, her mother had been a hippy! The music festivals around Byron Bay back in those days were for hippies. She had to play a clever game, or her mother would hang up on her again.
‘What a nice way to meet someone. Did you have friends in common, or did you just bump into each other?’
‘We just sort of met.’
Her mother seemed to be warming to the whole idea.
‘Actually we were both trying some vegetarian food from one of the food stalls.’ she laughed at the memory. ‘It was so horrible, the two of us just looked at each other, and burst out laughing.’
Constance was thrilled to bits.
‘Really? That’s so nice. Then what happened?’
‘Well, we just got to talking. He was a very intelligent man, your father. He knew a lot of things about all sorts of subjects. He was such an avid reader. He would just talk and talk, about all sorts of things. For hours.’
‘Were you a hippy, too, then mum?’
Constance could hear her mother sigh.
‘No, not really. Although, I suppose that was what I looked like to the outside world. We all dressed like that back in those days. I never felt like I was a hippy. It was just the way things were. All my friends dressed like that, so I did too.’
‘When I was little you didn’t dress like that.’
‘Well, it was the 80’s then. Things had changed. We were older, and, well, I don’t know. By then things had changed.’
‘Why is it you never liked speaking about him to me?’
A tone of annoyance crept into her mother’s voice.
‘Do you have any idea how difficult it was bringing up two children on your own? He left me with a pocketful of dreams, and little else. Sometimes I don’t know how I managed to make it through. You never went wanting, I always gave you everything you needed. Nobody can ever say otherwise.’
‘I know, mum, I know. You did everything you could. But I still don’t understand why you never spoke to me about him?’
‘It was nice of you to call, Constance, but now I have to get ready for work.’
‘Work? What work? You’re on the pension.’
‘I do some volunteer work at the local clothes bank. I really have to be off now. Bye Constance.’
‘OK, bye mum.’
Constance rang off. She was pretty sure that the clothes bank didn’t open at 7 in the morning, but she had plenty to think about, anyway. Why did her mother get annoyed talking about her father? Was it because his death had left her on her own with two young children? To fend for herself? Then it dawned on her. Actually in the end it was relatively easy to understand. Her mother felt betrayed by her father’s death. She was angry at him because he had left her, all alone. And with two kids. Looking back, it was true that they had never had much when she was growing up. Not that that had bothered her at the time. They were simpler times, and no one really had had a lot of anything. All her friends were just like her, so it had never been something that had bothered her, or made her feel different. Constance had never thought about how difficult it must have been for her mother. But still, to blame your husband because he died? And then to be cold to your daughter. To blame your daughter, your little girl, because she was a burden to you. How should she react to that? Probably it should make her feel angry, but she refused to place any blame on her mother’s shoulders. It can’t have been easy for her, and she had done the best she could. If nothing else it all brought some understanding, some clarity. Constance was starting to put all the missing pieces of the puzzle together. Years of struggling on her own had turned her mother into the cold, distant person she had become. All those years that Constance had spent being daunted by her mother had really been wasted. She would try her best to be the strong one in the relationship, like her father obviously had been. She wouldn’t hold onto any blame, or recriminations. Maybe it was time for the two of them to let go of the past. Maybe it wasn’t too late for them to get close? To start again. The missing years would always be there, a hole in both of their lives, but the future was yet to be written. Constance decided that she would phone her mother once a week, and try to jump-start their relationship. Starting from scratch. But on an even footing. No longer would she let her mother browbeat her. They would meet as equals. Actually, no, it would be her who would set the agenda. And she would do it for the both of them.
Constance was really happy that Matt was back. She hadn’t seen him for a couple of weeks. A couple of weeks in which big changes had happened. Changes that she wanted to discuss with Matt, unlike the situation with Jeff. That had been just too personal, too difficult to share with anyone. Except Grace. Grace had really come through for her. It was funny to realise that under that ironclad exterior there was a person who had suffered, a lot. She seemed more like the person who caused suffering, for others. Lately Constance had been learning a lot about the part which lies hidden beneath the surface of people she had known for a long time. Probably she had been so busy internalising everything, blaming herself for everything that had gone wrong in her life, that she hadn’t really thought about what was happening on the inside of people in her life. Jeff, Grace, her mother. She felt like she had finally opened her eyes to the world, or more precisely, to the people in her world. And what she saw changed everything. She was beginning to understand the inside mechanisms of the people in her life.
‘That’s a pretty intense look on your face. Shall I come back later?’
Constance looked up to see Matt smiling down at her.
‘Matt! Hello, it’s nice to see you. Sorry, I was just thinking about some things. Actually some big changes in my life. I’ve got a lot to tell you. Let’s order some drinks.’
‘I already have. So what’s going on with you?’
‘Everything.’
They both laughed. The late afternoon sun was still hot, but not unpleasantly so. The height of summer was passing, and there was the beginning of some welcome relief to the intense heat. In any conditions It was always pleasant sitting out on the deck of their usual meeting place. The sea was calm, with slow, lazy waves quietly flowing in and out. The last of the day’s beachgoers were packing up their things, and dutifully heading off to organise their evenings. There was always plenty to do when you were on holiday in the south of Spain. Their evenings would be as full as their days had been.
‘I like the sound of everything. Everything is good. I have a sneaking suspicion that everything will involve your mother, true?’
Matt had a cheeky grin on his face. Constance was so happy to see him.
‘That’s for sure. I’m finally getting some answers out of her about dad, and, well, a bit of everything really. How things were back then. It’s slow work, but, bit by bit I’m starting to get some information out of her.’
‘I’m so pleased for you. I know your mother situation has been hard for you for a long time. And you’re not alone there. The mother-daughter relationship is a bit of a classic as being a difficult one.’
‘Actually I’ve got y