Free My Daughter, My Mother by Annie Murray Page B

crossed-eyed little brat?’ Mrs Paige was demented with rage. ‘You monster! You filthy vermin! How dare you touch my things, my Ernest’s things? Out, you little rat – get out!’
    The dentures fell to the floor and several of the teeth jumped out of them. Margaret was dragged downstairs by the hair, mewling and crying.
    Mrs Paige shoved her out of the back door and the few steps across to the wooden shed behind the house . . .
    She struggled, crying, begging. In with the rats, Mrs Paige had threatened. Desperate, she tried to pull away, to get out of the woman’s grasp, but Mrs Paige was so big, so enraged, that all Margaret could do was jerk and pull, crying, ‘No, no, don’t – not in there . . . No-o-o!’
    ‘Mom?’ The voice cut through her terrified rememberings. ‘Mom, it’s all right . . .’ A hand soothed her shoulder. ‘I think you’ve been having a dream – don’t worry.’
    Margaret stared up at the face, the dark eyes like her own, the familiar voice. Of course, her own daughter, Karen! Here she was in her room. It wasn’t 1939 – it was now. She almost wept with relief.
    ‘Must’ve been dreaming,’ she said muzzily.
    ‘It’s all right, Mom.’ Karen struggled to sound in command, though she was frightened. ‘Look, I’ve just got home. I’ll make us both a nice cup of tea. Dad’ll be back soon, and I can get the dinner on, so don’t worry – all right?’
    ‘Thanks,’ Margaret said. She sat up, reaching for her specs, feeling stunned and foolish. ‘Thanks, love.’

Ten
    May 1984
    The next Tuesday morning Joanne pushed Amy along to the playgroup, very relieved to have somewhere to go. I need a break from family, she thought guiltily. As she turned into Villa Road she took deep breaths of the warm air, feeling as if she had been let out of a lock-up. Karen had been on the phone again last night, on about Mom having bad dreams and seeming frightened and not herself. And Dave’s mood had slid down again. She badly needed to get out.
    While Margaret had been in hospital, Dave had been as kind and supportive as it was possible to be, minding Amy while Joanne went to visit, sending a get-well card to his mother-in-law, and treating Joanne as if she was fragile and needed his care and protection. But she could feel it beginning to wear off. Nothing had happened, but she could sense she was back to walking on eggshells, that his mood was building up again, until some unpredictable moment when he would explode.
    She hurried along, anxious not to be late, realizing how much she was looking forward to the toddler group, to seeing Tess and, even more, Sooky and Priya.
    ‘Who’re we going to see – d’you remember?’ She leaned over the buggy while she was still moving to talk to Amy.
    Amy twisted round to look up at her.
    ‘You’re going to see your little friend Priya.’
    ‘Piya!’ Amy couldn’t manage the ‘pr’ yet. She jiggled against the straps in excitement. ‘Piya!’
    It felt wonderful to Joanne to think they had friends. Michelle had always been her best mate before, but Michelle didn’t have children and lived so far away – not to mention the rift between them over Dave. She couldn’t count on Michelle for everything now; she needed to make other friends. She walked much more confidently into the church hall, said hello to Tess and helped her finish getting the things out. She was pleased with the way Tess almost seemed to expect her now to come early and help. As the other mothers arrived, she found it easier to talk to them too.
    ‘Where Piya?’ Amy asked.
    ‘She’ll be here in a bit, I expect,’ Joanne said. ‘What d’you want to do, Amy?’
    Amy immediately pointed at the painting table.
    ‘How about waiting for that till Priya gets here – shall we go and play with the dollies instead?’
    But no, nothing else would do. Joanne sat beside Amy again, talking to Mavis. She kept looking at the door. Sooky was often late. But after the first hour had