‘Well, I was hoping as I’ve got a few days off this weekend if we could make it Saturday? I can get the bus over...’
The call went on for a while longer, then Lorraine heard the thudding footsteps, and a door slamming. She went inside and opened the fridge. Rosie appeared dressed in a white blouse and circular cotton flower print skirt. Her frizzy hair was wet, and she tugged a comb through it.
‘Water was still cold! And you had the last Coke yesterday. I’m not a charity, you know. Now, we’d better see which meeting you go to...?’ Rosie began making a series of phone calls and talked at length to someone whom she described as her sponsor. Eventually she hung up.
‘Jake figures I shouldn’t be your sponsor, but since I’ve taken you on, I’ll give it a try. Any time, day or night, if you feel the need for a drink, or someone to talk to, then you just tell me. Have you wanted a drink this morning?’
‘What do you think?’
Rosie sighed irritably, and warned Lorraine that she did not have enough money to ferry them both all over LA. ‘Don’t you have any money at all?’ she barked.
‘No, but I’ll manage...’
Rosie pushed past her, into the tiny kitchen area, took cereal and fruit, and began to munch noisily. Slowly, the warm, friendly Rosie began to surface. She complimented Lorraine on how she looked, and started counting dollars from her purse. Lorraine watched, trying to work out how much money it contained. As soon as she had a chance, she would steal it and get the hell out of the apartment.
‘How about social security? Can you claim any benefits?’
Lorraine shrugged. Said she couldn’t recall any social security numbers, but declined to admit to Rosie why she didn’t want to — the skipped bail, court appearances, debts... If she tried to apply for financial assistance she’d be arrested. Rosie gulped her coffee and began to make a long list, chewing the end of an already gnarled pencil.
‘Okay. We got enough here for a few days, but we’ll look around for jobs, see about taking you to the social security to see if they can trace your numbers and maybe you’ll get some benefits. Not that you can live on what they dole out, I know, I’m on it—’
‘We? I can manage on my own.’
‘No, you can’t. I can’t go off to the hospital and leave you, well, not until I can trust you. So here’s some suggestions...’ She had jotted down waitress, cleaner, mostly menial jobs, and then listed all the addresses of AA meetings. Lorraine wondered idly if all this effort was to help Rosie keep on the wagon, never mind herself.
‘I thought you said you were something to do with computers. Can’t you get a decent job?’ Lorraine enquired.
Rosie looked up. ‘Oh, yes. I can get into any bank and they’ll make me head cashier! I lost my job, my respectability. I’ve got no references, not even a driver’s licence, they took it away. I thought you’d know that — if you were a cop like you said. If you were, why can’t you get a decent job?’
Lorraine began to chew at her nails. She’d finished the pack of cigarettes; now she craved not only a drink but a cigarette, too. She suddenly felt tired, and yawned. It was as if she had been up for hours, which indeed she had, but it was still only ten o’clock.
‘Can I use your toilet?’
‘You don’t have to fucking ask me to go to the john, for chrissakes!’
When Lorraine didn’t show for fifteen minutes, Rosie went to check on her. She was curled up on her bed, deeply asleep, her hands cupped under her chin. Rosie studied Lorraine’s sleeping face, and realized that she must once have been beautiful. You could still see glimpses of it: in repose, Lorraine’s face lost its hardness. Her mouth was closed, so you couldn’t see the missing tooth, and the deep scar was hidden by the pillow. For the first time Rosie really wondered about Lorraine’s past, still certain that the cop line was just that — a line.
She crept out, then searched through Lorraine’s belongings. Nothing. The brown paper bag was empty of any personal mementoes. No letters or cards, no make-up — and the plastic purse they had given her was empty, she hadn’t lied about that. But Rosie was sure she had lied about having no family; a girl who had been as attractive as Lorraine must have had someone — had maybe even been somebody.
Rosie let Lorraine sleep for almost the entire day. She read, made some calls, cooked lunch for herself. Food was one of the few pleasures she had left in life. At four o’clock the phone rang. She snatched it up, afraid it would wake Lorraine.
‘Hello, is this you, Mommy?’ The high-pitched voice tore at her heart. At last he had called. It was her son.
‘Yeah, it’s me. How you doin’, Joey? We gonna meet up? I kinda thought maybe this weekend?’
‘I can’t, I got a big game, I’m on the second division basketball team, and so I can’t. I gotta go now.’
Rosie started to panic. He was going to put the phone down. She wanted to tell him she would drive across LA to see him play, but she stuttered, ‘Wait, Joey, what about you gettin’ a bus out here to me? I can meet you at the depot, Joey? You still there, Joey?’
‘I’m goin’ to Florida. Me and Dad are movin’ there, we got a place sorted and everything.’
‘Florida?’ Rosie screeched.
There was an ominous silence. She could hear Joey whispering. ‘Is that woman goin’ with you, Joey? Is — put your dad on the phone, Joey, you hear me? I wanna speak to—’
Rosie was shaking, she knew that cheap bitch was there, knew she must be putting her ten cents in. Her hand clenched round the receiver as she heard her son calling his father, and then the phone being put down. ‘Hello? Hello?’
Her ex-husband came on the line — she could even hear his intake of breath as if he was preparing himself to speak to her. It always got her so mad, the way he talked to her, all calm and coming on like he was a shrink, or as if she was ten years old. ‘Rosie?’
‘What’s all this about Florida? You never said anythin’ to me about Florida, takin’ my kid to Florida.’
‘Rosie, just calm down.’
‘I’m calm, for chrissakes. I’m angry too.’
‘When we’re settled we’ll write. This is a good job for me, a lot more money.’ The voice was smooth, saying each word too slowly.
‘I wanna see Joey. I’m not interested in what you earn — you never paid a cent to me, anyway.’
There was the sound of heavy breathing and then he repeated slowly and painstakingly that as Rosie had not been awarded visitation rights, never mind custody, she had little say in where her Joey lived. That was up to him and he was making the best decision for his son’s welfare and if she didn’t like it then she should hire a lawyer.
‘Oh, yeah? And where do I get that kind of money?’
‘You got it to buy booze, Rosie. Maybe you’re stewed right now — you usually have been in the past when you’ve called. It’s been six months since your last call and Joey doesn’t wanna know, Rosie. It’s not me and don’t think it’s Barbara either, he—’
‘You bastard.’
Again the heavy breathing. ‘Rosie, I’m sorry, let’s not be like this. We’ll write, we’ll be in touch and I’m hanging up now because I don’t want to get into an argument. I’m hanging up, Rosie.’
She looked at the receiver as she heard the line go dead and replaced it gently on the cradle. She patted the phone with the flat of her hand, wishing it was her boy’s head. She didn’t even know how big he was now, it had been such a long time... One day, she told herself, she’d hold him in her arms and he would forgive her. She felt so empty she wanted to cry, for all the lost years.