A STONE IN THE SAND

A STONE IN THE SAND

by Rosemary Clarke

     Debbie Cutler brushed back her peroxide hair, clipping it with a silver slide before staring into the mirror; too much eye shadow? No.  Smudging another layer of crimson lip-enhancing lipstick she smiled yes, knock 'em dead girl!
     Maureen Cutler looked up from nursing blonde four year old Becky, she smiled approvingly.
     "You look, gorgeous Debs!"
Debbie grinned, twitching in her silver mini skirt, the schoolgirl showing through.
     "Sure you'll be okay with Becks?"
Maureen smiled.
     "Aren't I always?  She's a dream, so quiet, don't know where she gets it from."
As Becky's mum strode happily out of the door, blowing a kiss to her David Beckham poster Becky looked up, her bottomless brown eyes brimming with tears.  Shifting a little she squirmed from Maureen's lap.
     "What's the matter love, you tired?  Nanny give you a nap?"
Picking the child up she made her way to her daughter's bedroom, laying her on Debbie's bed; she always slept there.  Leaning she pulled the curtains, shutting out the light from the streetlamps.  Becky buried her little golden head in the pillow breathing in her mother's scent.
     "Bless her, she's asleep."
Maureen stood for a moment gently stroking her hair watching her granddaughter, remembering the way Debbie had seemed like a big doll to her eighteen-year-old self.  She smiled as thoughts enveloped her; peroxiding Debbie's hair, her experiments with lipstick and the way she'd grown into a double of Maureen's idol.  She could see her fronting a group like Blondie's even now, posing and pouting in those floaty dresses; well she at least looked the part but Debbie couldn't hold a note to save herself.
     Becky was the result of an unfortunate fling at work; you got these things happening if you didn't watch yourself.  Debbie had always been one for wanting cuddles and hugs, too demonstrative.  A working mum, like Maureen had been, couldn't cope with all that.  Her sister Jean had been a godsend taking Debs out for walks, showing her things.  She frowned as she remembered her Mum laying down the law.  Maureen could still see her, hands-on overfed hips, shaking those dark curls of hers still in their curling papers.
     "Why don't you take Debbie out!  You never do!  She didn't ask to come into this world!  Mum’s and daughters ought to do things together."
Vince, her husband had soon sorted her out.
     "Mau's a good mum.  The trouble with you Mrs L is that you don't see it.  Girls today don't cook an' that lark, don't have time."
     "If you were more of a husband she would have!"
Words like that had finally smashed up the marriage.  She sighed shaking her head, why couldn't her mum see she needed her help?  That's what mums were for; you look after the kids while your kids get a life; live a bit before they settle down.  Becky hadn't moved.  Maureen quietly walked out shutting the door.
     Wendy and Steve were already on their second lager in the mock olde- worlde cosy atmosphere of the Horse and Groom as Debbie burst through the door.  Steve stood collecting the glasses.
     "What can I get you, Debs?"
     "G & T not too much T." She grinned swerving into a seat.
     "So what's new?"
Wendy leaned over the wooden table pushing aside two more glasses already staining rings into the dark varnish.
     "Hil's going steady."
     "No!  She said she'd never!"
Wendy laughed.
     "Kev and her are an item; prob'ly broody after seeing Louise's"
     "You think?"
     "Yeah, I get broody when I see Becks; she's cute."
     "Yeah, she's a great kid," Debs said proudly.
     "Why don't you bring her some time, we could always go in the family bit, they serve 'til seven."
Debbie smiled.  "Wait 'til she's older then I'll show her the sights."
Steve manoeuvred the drinks onto the table.
     "Who's older?"
Wendy brushed an auburn strand from her heart-shaped face.   "Becky, talking about getting her an intro to this place."
Steve grinned, the lights catching his hairless head.
     "Bit young yet, mind you if she grows up like her mum....". He gave Debbie a nudge, souring Wendy's face.
     "Where's Don?"
Steve stretched back in his seat. "Baby bruv watching."
Wendy sighed picking up her lager.  "Not again!  He's there every evening after work takes him to football at weekends; you'd think he'd be sick of it!"
Steve's long fingers caressed the cold glass.
"Yeah well, some guys never learn.  Says he'll be over later when his mum's back."
     Debbie's brown eyes searched the bar for anyone worth spotting.  Suddenly she saw Don striding toward them looking younger than his twenty-three years, the long golden waves flowing over his shoulders.  Placing his beer on the table he sat down a satisfied smile on his face; Wendy smirked.
     "You look like the cat that's got the cream.  Gonna tell us who she is?"
Closing his eyes he smiled.
"Life's good."
Debbie frowned.  "What babysitting?"
     "What's wrong with that, Andy likes it and I get to see a lot of Andy."
Wendy flicked her hair back.  "Shame you don't bring him here."
      "Twelve's a bit young; could take him in the family bit."
      "Yeah that's what I was saying to Debs."
Don turned to her.  "Yeah, why not bring Becks here.  She's a good kid and we'd love to see her.  I could bring Andy if we stayed in the family bit."
Debbie shook her head.  "She's okay but pub time's my time."
Don looked at her, his blue eyes serious.  "When's Becks time?"
A lump was forming in Debbie's throat, a lump like she had had when she'd gone to visit Grandma.
     "Her time comes later." She mumbled.
     "But you're missing out on a load of things, seeing her grow, telling her stories sharing things with her.  It all makes life that bit better.  You care and they care, and caring's what we all need."
Debbie slammed the pub door as she told him what to do with his ideas.
     Maureen looked up as she stormed into the room.
     "Where's Becks!"
     "In the bedroom asleep; I left her on your bed.  Good night?"
     "What do you think!"
Maureen went back to watching her television programme on, mums to be carrying dolls instead of real children, there was a market in it.  Amazing!  Debbie strode angrily into her bedroom strewn with all her things then stopped; Becky was still cuddling the pillow her little face wet with tears.  Debbie sat down on the bed stroking her daughter's wispy hair.
     "Oh, Becks!  What am I doing to you, what am I doing to us both?"
Becky snuggled closer her tiny hand reaching out for the one person she'd wanted all of her life.  Debbie kicked off her sparkly shoes, her other arm enveloping the soft blonde head, knowing at last what parenthood was really about.

Copyright Rosemary Clarke