Love Is a Secret (36 page)

67

Last reminder for our What Mums Know Christmas Party.

He reached in his pocket for the printout to check he’d got the right address. A small, barrel-shaped woman with frizzy hair pushed past him. ‘Hi, I’m Cellulite Mum of Littlehampton,’ he heard her saying to a tall woman with orange (orange?) hair.

‘And I’m Going Grey of Manchester.’ Orange Hair clapped the other lady on the shoulder. The two fell about, screeching with laughter like schoolgirls.

He looked around. Would she be there? It wasn’t her sort of thing or his, but he’d had to come in the hope she might turn up.

Do you want a break?

Maybe we should.

Again and again he had regretted those words. It might be the sensible option but he had a terrible feeling he might have done something very stupid. Like losing the love of his life, which seemed far more important than not knowing if his daughter was his. He’d worked the last bit out in his mind and was pretty certain now of where he stood.

‘Hi. Come on in!’

A large, bubbly woman with Christmas-tree earrings dragged him in, pressing a plastic cup into his hands. ‘I’m Earth Mother.’ She indicated the label on her chest. ‘Which one is your wife?’

‘Sorry?’

She grinned at him. ‘Duchess or Scummy Mummy or Sleepy Mum?’ She glanced at her list. ‘There are a few more, too, who we’re still waiting for.’

He took a swig. ‘Actually, I’m Mimi.’

Her eyes widened. ‘Mimi? But you’re a man.’

‘I know. I pretended to be a woman. I’m sorry. It’s a long story. Actually, I was wondering if you’d seen—’

‘You know it’s against the rules, don’t you?’ The piggy, mascara-less eyes were distinctly hostile. ‘If you read the small print when you registered, you’d see that you’re not allowed to give false details.’

‘False details?’ An extremely tall, curly-haired woman stopped, slopping warm mulled wine over his trousers. ‘Sorry about that.’ She eyed Mark suspiciously. ‘Who’s been giving false details?’

Mark drained his cup – he loathed mulled wine but anything to numb the embarrassment – while Earth Mother explained the situation. ‘I used to specialise in that part of the law before I had my career break,’ remarked Lawyer Mum, fixing beady eyes on him.

‘Moral support.’ He returned her gaze steadily. ‘My wife is in prison for insider-dealing and I’m bringing up our two children whose behaviour, both at school and home, has been challenging. Most of the women I know offline are reluctant to befriend a single dad in case their friends or husbands think they’re trying to have it off with me, so I thought I’d find some mates online instead. Obviously I was mistaken.’

‘Please.’ Earth Mother caught his arm. ‘I didn’t mean to be unkind. It’s just that we have to be careful. You get some real freaks, you know.’

Lawyer Mum nodded. ‘How long did your wife get?’

‘Six months. Listen, I’m sorry to be rude – again – but I wanted to meet someone here. Someone called Part Time Mum. Have you seen her?’

Earth Mother shook her head. ‘Know of her, of course. But she’s not on my acceptance list. Maybe she isn’t coming. Oh, look, here are some more!’

Mark swivelled round hopefully.

‘I’m Melinda of Southsea,’ said a woman in a pink tracksuit and a baby sling with, inexplicably, no baby inside. ‘My husband’s parking the car. I’ve got to go back in a minute to feed Garth but I wanted to say hello first.’

‘Welcome!’ Earth Mother beamed. ‘How incredible. You’re exactly as I imagined you!’

‘Really?’

Lawyer Mum frowned. ‘I want to meet Ali of Slough.’

Melinda flushed. ‘Actually, that’s me too. I enjoyed saying things so much that I sort of doubled up.’

‘Interesting.’ Earth Mother nodded. ‘They say that each one of us has two sides, don’t they?’

He couldn’t bear this. Small-talk was not what he had come for. Maybe Caroline was hovering outside. ‘Excuse me,’ he said, easing his way past.

‘You’ll never guess who
that
was?’ he heard Lawyer Mum say.

Oh, sod it. Just as well there were labels. She’d never have guessed half of them. Single Mum had a wedding ring on – she’d taken the plunge last week she was telling everyone excitedly – and Mad Mum was perfectly normal in a jacket and skirt, uttering intelligent sentences, which she managed to finish unlike most of the people there who were too busy screaming with laughter and hugging each other as though they were old friends.

‘Mulled wine?’ said a woman in scruffy jeans, a tattoo on her bare arm (wasn’t she cold?) and long jade earrings.

Susan peered at her label. Bad Mum. ‘No, thanks. I’m driving. Is there anything soft?’

‘Over there. By the counter,’ said Bad Mum, pityingly.

Susan hesitated, not wanting to leave Tabitha in her chair while she threaded her way through the crowd.

‘I’ll get you a drink,’ said a small woman. Her hair was scrunched back into a bun and worry lines were etched on her forehead. ‘I’m Frazzled Mum. But I’m getting better, thanks to the site.’

Susan relaxed. ‘I know what you mean. Water would be great, thanks.’

There were, she thought, surprisingly few kids here, even though the invitation had said they were welcome. Anyway, she hadn’t been able to leave Tabitha with anyone. Her dad had flu, and Josh and Steff had gone on a weekend break to Paris. Besides, she’d had enough of pretending. She was who she was. And so was Tabitha.

‘Hi, I’m Earth Mother. Welcome!’ A large, bustling woman with Christmas-tree earrings beamed down at Tabitha. ‘Is this your daughter?’

‘Yes. Tabitha, say, “Hello.”’

It was one of her new words from the last Steff-and-Josh weekend.

‘Hallhalhall.’

Susan wiped away the dribble. ‘I’m Rainbow, by the way.’

‘Rainbow!’ A woman with a baby sling stopped beside her. ‘I love your messages. They’re so sensible and not judgemental like some of them. I’m Scummy Mummy, because I can never seem to keep my clothes clean – not with this one in my arms all day.’ She glanced down at Tabitha’s chair. ‘Did you sort out the access stuff with your ex?’

‘It’s working out much better than I thought.’

‘Was that your wish?’

‘Sorry?’

‘You know, your wish. The one with that funny little bear when the website got started.’

‘Oh, that was just a bit of fun,’ said Earth Mother. ‘We thought it might catch people’s attention.’

Scummy Mummy looked annoyed. ‘Well, I happen to believe in things like that and it worked for me. I wished for a girl because I’ve got three boys already and I had her.’

‘And I wished that life would get better for both me and my daughter,’ said Susan, slowly.

‘And has it?’

‘Yes.’ She reached down for Tabitha’s hand. ‘I think it has.’

Earth Mother clapped. ‘That’s wonderful! It’s so amazing to see everyone together.’

‘What gave you the idea to start it?’ asked Susan.

‘Well, I had six children of my own and then my husband left me. Two years ago I joined a computing class and married the man who ran it. He had four teenagers of his own and now we have thirty-two grandchildren and step-grandchildren between us!’ She dropped her voice. ‘I wanted to write a book about my experiences but no one seemed interested, so Greg, my husband, helped me set up a website so I could share my thoughts with others. It’s been a lot more work than I realised but so inspirational! Here’s Greg now.’

Susan tried to hide her surprise as a man who had to be considerably younger than Earth Mother joined the group. ‘Everyone enjoying themselves? Great. Nice to see it’s working out.’

He bent down and planted an affectionate kiss on Earth Mother’s cheek. Flushing, she kissed him back and Susan felt a pang of loneliness.

‘Juice anyone?’ asked someone, who was handing round a tray.

‘Thanks.’ Grateful for the interruption, Susan fished a straw out of her bag for Tabitha. It fell to the floor and a good looking man – he must be brave to have come – picked it up.

‘Thanks.’

‘No trouble.’ He handed it to her awkwardly. ‘You haven’t come across someone called Part Time Mum, have you?’

‘No. Sorry.’ He had dark circles under his eyes as though he hadn’t slept. And she knew what that felt like. ‘All right, love?’ she asked Tabitha.

Her daughter grinned. She’d been right to bring her. If there was one thing she’d learned in the last few months, it was the importance of being yourself.

‘I’ve been looking for “Expectent” Mum,’ said Earth Mother, returning to the group. ‘I do hope she comes. I’ve been quite worried about her.’

Susan hesitated. If she told her what had happened, it was like breaking a confidence.

‘Maybe she’s had her baby,’ prattled on Earth Mother. ‘Did you read her posting the other week about her false alarm? Poor love. I’ve had a few of those myself.’

Susan smiled ruefully. ‘Me too.’

He was here! Now what? She hadn’t been going to come but Roger was coming to the house for some more clothes and she hadn’t wanted to be in when he arrived. No, it was more than that. She’d wanted to see Mark. She needed closure before she could go on.

‘Hi.’

The surprise in his eyes made her heart flutter.

‘I didn’t think you were coming.’

‘I wasn’t.’

Gently, he took her elbow. ‘Let’s go outside to talk.’

A woman with a label declaring herself to be Pushy Princess stared at him with undisguised interest as they made their way out of the hall. Outside they found a playground with animal-shaped rides.

‘Bags the giraffe!’

She laughed.

‘Caroline, I’ve missed you.’

‘You’re the one who broke it off.’

He held both her hands, looking into her eyes. ‘No. I said I thought we needed a break. But I was wrong.’

Suddenly she couldn’t breathe.

‘I can’t live without you. Sounds corny but it’s true. And I’m filing for divorce.’

‘Not because of me?’ She didn’t want that burden.

‘No. Hilary and I would have broken up even without what happened to her. But I don’t want to lose you.’

He drew her to him and she laid her head on his shoulder. ‘I don’t want to lose you, either.’

He kissed her briefly on the lips. Soft. Yet hard at the same time. She gazed up at him.

‘When you smile like that, it’s as though the entire world has been switched on,’ he said.

He made her feel so good. ‘Really?’

‘Really.’

She buried her face in his chest. He smelt different from Roger. A clean start. ‘My husband and I are splitting up, but not because of you. Our marriage had been dead for years. I’d just refused to accept it.’

He dropped a series of little kisses all over her face. ‘I’m thinking of moving back to London but I need to talk it over with the kids.’

‘It would make it easier for you to see Hilary.’

He nodded. ‘I can’t abandon her completely.’

She had to say it: ‘It wouldn’t be right for us to move in together immediately.’

‘I know.’ He kissed her again. ‘But we can see each other, can’t we?’

His words wrapped her up like a duvet. Warm. Cosy. Exciting.

‘Yes.’ She tried to say something else but his mouth came down on hers and the ground below her fell away.

‘I love you, Part Time Mum,’ he said eventually.

She sparkled up at him, feeling more alive than she had ever felt before. ‘And I love you too.’ Laughingly, she traced the outline of his mouth. ‘Even if you are called Mimi!’

Later he told her of Hilary’s unkind taunts about Florrie’s parentage. ‘I’ve tried asking her for the truth but they’ve got her on a new medication, which seems to have doped her up,’ he said sadly. ‘I’m not sure if she’ll ever tell me now.’

‘Would it make a big difference to you if Florrie wasn’t yours?’ asked Caroline, snuggling up to him on the giraffe.

‘Yes and no. Yes, because I’d feel cheated, and no, because I’ve brought her up and love her as my own.’ He paused for a while, reflecting. ‘I suppose that’s the important bit, isn’t it?’

Caroline nodded. ‘I’d say so.’ She lifted her face for one more kiss.

‘Right, everyone. Time for the Christmas draw!’ Earth Mother, whose real name, Susan had discovered, was Priscilla, juggled a white plastic potty that contained scraps of paper. ‘Who’s going to win the trip for two to Paris? Each paper contains the name of someone who entered the draw in August.’

‘Trip for two to Paris.’ The girl next to Susan, with twins in her arms and a name badge declaring her to be Big Mum, rolled her eyes. ‘No good me winning it. Who’d have this lot?’

‘I’m going to ask the only man in the room – other than my lovely husband of course – to draw,’ trilled Priscilla/Earth Mother. ‘It’s his penance for being naughty enough to pretend he was a woman!’