From The Ashes Chapter 6/15
Title: From The Ashes
Pairing: Ultimately: Maureen/Cynthia.
Summary: After an unspeakable tragedy leaves her a young widow, Maureen works to re-build her life out of the shadow of her late husband, with the help of friends, family, and especially Cynthia.
Warnings: Major character death, self-harm and suicide, addiction, depictions of blood (later chapters).
Rating: R for subject matter.
A/N: Okay this should (no promises exactly) be the last longer than a month break between chapters. It's been a stressful month or so for me personally and that slowed me down. So thank you for being patient. Onward....
Chapter 6: Learning to Live Again
March 1970, Wavertree, Liverpool
“And the last curtain is hung. Feels like a proper home now.” Maureen smiles, climbing down from the step ladder with a smile on her face.
Cynthia returns the smile, stepping back to look at the whole front room. “It really is the littlest things, isn’t it?” She settles on the sofa, feet tucked up under her, returning to the pile of papers she has to mark before the end of the week.
“It really is.” Maureen agrees. She settles in the armchair- one of the few pieces of furniture she brought with her- picking back up the hairstyling dummy, working on an up-do for the following night’s class.
A peacefulness settles on the room, a quietness. The boys are playing in the playroom (on paper it’s the dining room but neither woman anticipates having enough dinner parties to need it) but there is just enough children’s chatter that it doesn’t have Maureen too worried as she starts to brush up the synthetic hair on the foam head.
The blissful quiet is only to be short lived. Soon it descends into an uneasy quiet that both Cynthia and Maureen know all too well. The quiet of children making mischief. With reflexes honed over years of mothering, both women lay down their work, only a split second before a peach poodle comes tearing by at lightening speed, a bit of fabric flapping behind her.
Said poodle is followed by Julian, with Zak on his heels and Jason running behind after that.
Maureen manages to scoop up the panicking poodle, unwinding the pillowcase from around the poor thing’s collar, and Cynthia stops all three boys with a sharp “Oi!”. Julian stops, looking both defiant and a bit abashed. Zak, holding something behind his back, stops just short of toppling into Julian, but Jason, having only started running a few months ago, can’t quite stop so easily. He runs into the nearby sofa table. The impact is just enough to send a few pictures toppling to the ground with Jason who instantly crumples to the ground in tears.
In a swift sure motion, Maureen releases Tiger to the sofa where the dog promptly curls into a ball, revealing a large chunk of hair missing from dogs hind leg. “Boys!” Maureen says sternly, though she drops to crouching to check on Jason before continuing once she’s ascertained that it’s only a small bruise if anything that’ll befall him. “What were you playin’ at, yeah?” She sits Jason on the sofa as his cries become sniffles and hiccups.
There is a moment where the elder boys both look at one another and seem to exchange whole plans with just glances.
Julian finally speaks up, looking from his mother, who has picked up the pictures and is standing, looking expectantly at the three of them, to Maureen, and back again, obviously trying to discern who will be the fairest punishment. “We were...erm...playin’ at bein’ hairdressers.”
“That’s why Tiger has a cape on” Zak spouts off, proud of what is obviously his contribution to the plan. “But she wasn’t sittin’ still and we had to hold her, and Jason held her back and Julian worked the scissors and I held her front and then...she ran off after we only got a bit cut...” He trails off, sensing both mothers’ growing frustration.
“You lads could’ve been hurt!” Cynthia admonishes before looking at her son with a disapproving stare. “Julian, you should have known better, you’re going on seven this year. You need to be more responsible, especially with the two younger boys about. Set a good example…”
Maureen shakes her head and gently places her hand on Cynthia’s shoulder. “Don’t put all the blame on him, Cyn. My two know how I feel about havin’ me hair-dressing stuff touched. Gimme, now.” She kneels in front of Zak with an outstretched hand, palm up.
Without looking at Maureen or anyone, Zak slowly brings his hand from behind his back, scissors clasped tightly in tiny fingers. The glint of the blades as the sunlight hits them just right sends a short shiver up Maureen’s spine. The boys don’t notice but Cynthia does and it pains her great deal as this seems to happen fairly regularly. Just a short shiver and a brief flinch when silver or pointed objects catch light. She looks over at Maureen, catching the younger woman’s eyes with concern in her own stare.
Maureen lightly waves it off, just a small hand gesture before gingerly taking the scissors from her eldest. “You know better, Zak.” She says, placing the scissors gingerly on the coffee table, well out of Jason’s reach.
Unable to stand it any longer, Julian pipes up. “Are….are we in trouble?”
Maureen exchanges a few quick glances with Cynthia. Cynthia shrugs in a ‘do-what-you-will’ gesture and Maureen smirks and turns her attention back to the boys. “Not exactly. I’ve got a different game for you. Before you can be hairdressers, y’know, you have to be an apprentice one first.”
Cynthia watches with admiration for her younger friend. Not entirely sure what exactly Maureen has planned, it’s clear that there is some creative punishment in her mind.
Julian looks perplexed, and Zak looks equally puzzled. Jason is currently preoccupied with his hands, having lost interest in the whole thing.
“Just follow me. I have to fix poor Tiger’s cut, it’s just a bit jagged. I’ll get me real clippers and set up in the garage.” Maureen barely manages to stifle a small giggle, amused at the plan she has. She scoops up Tiger under one arm and Jason with the other, settling him up on her hip with her arm supporting him. “Cynthia, can you get me the broom and dustpan, please ma’am?” She asks as she starts toward the garage, stopping only briefly to gather her electric clippers.
Zak follows his mother and Julian follows behind when Cynthia starts heading in the direction of the garage. When they get there, Maureen is already set up, clippers plugged in, Tiger on an unused desk, pacing nervously, but her lead tied to a set of shelves next to the desk so she can’t escape, as the garage door still needs to be repaired as it doesn’t shut . Jason is busy watching with wide eyes as Maureen soothes the nervous poodle with a few coos and clicking her tongue against the roof of her mouth. Cynthia steps down into the garage, with dust-pan and broom. She offers them to Maureen, who takes them but promptly offers the broom to Julian and the dustpan to Zak.
“Not for me.” She answers the quite obviously confused Julian “You see, boys, to be a real hairdresser. you gotta be an apprentice first. And apprentices very rarely get to cut any hair at least at first. Gotta clean up a lot first. So while I fix up Tiger’s haircut, you lads will sweep up together.”
Julian looks wide-eyed to his mother, pleading to get out of this.
But Cynthia shakes her head at her son. It’s been a sort of unspoken arrangement for the two women that there is no ‘her son/my son’ when it comes to punishments or rewards equally.They both have Northern working class values and it translates to a nearly seamless situational co-parenting. “I think it’s a perfectly fair punishment. You both wanted to be hairdressers, you need to start where they start”
“Do I have to do all the sweeping?” Julian begs between both women.
“No, Julian you don’t have to do all of it. Zak was as eager to start his training as you were, so you’ll switch off duties about half way.” Maureen assures. She starts the clippers up and they come to life with a hum. Jason instantly runs off to Cynthia’s waiting embrace. Over the elder boys’ heads, Cynthia gestures to Maureen she’s taking Jason in. Maureen nods.
Maureen makes quick but careful work of Tiger’s coat. Bits of curly fur rain down from the desk, onto the concrete floor. With a sigh, Julian starts sweeping up the fur into the dustpan and Zak takes it to the wheely-bin just outside of the garage door. He comes rushing back in, instantly tugging on his mother’s trouser leg. Maureen stops her work. “What’s wrong?”
“There’s people, Mummy.” Zak points and both Julian and Maureen turn around.
Sure enough, standing nearly up the whole drive, are some neighbors, a couple who are both about university age, that Maureen has seen around enough to recognize but not enough to know their names. “Go inside, boys.” She orders, not looking at either, but instead at the intruders who aren’t moving.
Julian grabs Zak by the hand and the two boys scamper inside and slam the door to the main house. They instantly go stand at the window to see what’s going to happen.
With white-hot fury rushing through her, Maureen storms out of the garage. The neighbors turn on their heels but they aren’t fast enough. “Oi! Don’t you dare run from me. You was so curious about me life a second ago.”
They both stop, turning around to face Maureen.
“We...I’m s-sorry…” The woman stutters. “We just…”
“Just wha’?” Maureen stands between them and the house, stance wide arms crossed over her chest.
“Just wanted to see who’d moved in. The garage was open.” The male in the pair offers, stepping between Maureen and his sweetheart.
“Because it’s broken. Don’t make no difference. It’s not an open invitation. It’s private property. You want to be neighborly? Then you knock on me door like a respectable type. I moved back here to get myself, Cynthia, and the boys away from pryin’ eyes and types like you.” She practically spits her words at the couple. “I know full well who me husband was. I spent all our married life duckin’ folks like you, only wanting a bit of us. He gave all he had of him. I’m done givin’.”
“Look, Mrs.Starkey...we didn’t mean anything by it, honest. We’re real sorry, we are. Just got curious” The girl offers, bending over to tighten the strap on her shoe which causes a black Instamatic camera to fall out of her trouser pocket, clattering to the drive. The girl stands pale and frozen, muttering ‘sod’ to herself, while her companion dives down to pick it up.
He’s a split second too late. Maureen has already picked up the camera. “Didn’t mean nowt, did you?” She’s practically shaking with anger. In a burst of anger and frustration, she hurls the little camera clear across the road into the hedgerow. “Go now and I won’t call the police on you!”
With no hesitation, the couple takes off for the hedgerow. When Maureen is satisfied that they won’t come back, she turns on her heel and storms back. Deciding that Tiger will have to wait until later that evening to finish, she unhooks the dog’s lead and scoops her up, marching inside with purpose. She slams the door behind her, setting Tiger down. The poodle scampers off and Maureen storms off toward the kitchen, still shaken by what just transpired, vowing to call that handyman and give him a piece of her mind.
She doesn’t even notice the two little boys following behind her, wide-eyed and silent.