Tangled Lives (10 page)

‘No, there was only the one girl. Venetia, as you say. And an older brother … Charles, I think. Such a charming family. Angela and I kept in touch for years. Henry Carnegie was at Brooks’s with Terence, of course. And I seem to remember the boy was something in wine. He was involved with one of those warehouse places that sell in bulk, made a vast fortune, Angela said.’ Her mother sighed nostalgically. ‘But after Henry died, we rather lost touch. Caro seems to think Angela’s no longer with us either, but as one gets on it’s impossible to keep up with everybody. A Christmas card is all I can manage now. If I don’t send them out, everybody thinks I’m
dead.’ Eleanor chuckled merrily, as if her demise were high comedy.

Brooks’s, thought Annie. If Charles’s father had been a member of the gentlemen’s club in St James’s, then Charles would quite possibly be one too – people like him lived for tradition. She could try leaving a letter for him there. I’m amazed he’s made a success of his life, she thought; he’d seemed so indolent and spoilt back then.

‘You’re very far from dead, Mother,’ she assured her, as they waited for their coffee.

‘As we speak, darling.’ Eleanor nodded. ‘But the reality is, I could keel over at any second.’ She attempted a look of pathos, but it was ruined by her clear enjoyment of the self-centred melodrama.

‘Well, so could I, for that matter.’

‘One day you’ll be sorry you didn’t take me more seriously,’ Eleanor complained good-naturedly.

‘I do take you seriously, Mother. How else could I take you?’

Her mother gave her a shrewd smile. ‘You make it sound a bit of an effort, darling.’

As she left the restaurant and waited on Jermyn Street for a taxi for her mother, Annie thought about Daniel. She was seeing him on Saturday and her heart filled with delight at the prospect.

Marsha, Emma and Ed sat in the corner of a wine bar in Wardour Street. Ed glanced impatiently at the clock on
the wall above the bar. ‘Where’s Lucy? Not like her to do overtime in that crap job.’ This was the first time they’d got together since his tantrum at his parents’ house, and he hoped he wouldn’t get a hard time from any of them.

‘She’s getting her visa for Tanzania. You know, that hideous volunteering job she went for?’ Marsha replied.

‘I didn’t realise she’d actually got it.’

Emma groaned. ‘Hardly surprising. Can’t think who else’d want to do it.’

‘No, well … we’ve got more pressing things on the agenda today.’ Marsha paused. ‘Sorry, can’t wait for Luce, I need a debrief. Now!’ She widened her eyes at the other two. ‘I don’t know about you guys, but I can’t get my head around what Mum told us. It’s been driving me nuts.’ She glared at her brother. ‘And you weren’t much help, running off like a greyhound out of a fucking trap.’

‘Sorry, I don’t know why I did that. She was so …’ He tailed off when he got a warning look from Emma.

‘What?’ he mouthed. But Emma just shrugged.

‘I know it was childish, but I got pissed off because Mum seemed so gushing about the man. As if she’d fallen in love with him.’ He was ashamed of his words and waited for his sister to object.

‘No, I get what you mean,’ Marsha said. ‘It was weird.’

‘The whole thing’s weird,’ Ed commented. ‘Not just the fact of him, but Mum hiding it.’

‘It just makes me look at her differently,’ Marsha went on. ‘I mean, can you imagine giving your baby up and
not mentioning it to
anyone
, including the father, for thirty-five years? Bizarre.’

‘Why would you do that?’ Ed asked, as much to himself as to the others. He wasn’t one for secrets, everyone always knew what he thought – perhaps to his detriment. As a child he’d had such a reputation for blurting things out that no one would tell him what they’d got the others for Christmas. ‘Not being able to cope with a teenage pregnancy in the sixties is totally understandable. But it seems perverse to hold on to such a huge secret even with your children.’

‘I don’t think it’s that strange,’ Emma commented as she drew a doodle in some spilt beer on the wooden table. ‘I can imagine with something like that you don’t say anything at first, then gradually the secret gets trapped and massive, and then there’s no easy way to bring it up.’

The others gazed at her in silence, considering what she’d said.

‘But hey, it’s not my mum,’ she added.

‘Do you think she was in love with this Carnegie guy?’ Ed asked, the thought an odd one. He was still having trouble marrying the two images of his mother the announcement had evoked. The one, a starry-eyed adolescent caught out by a night of passion. The other, his present-day mother, all conservative, nurturing efficiency.

‘She didn’t have much time to be in love, if it was only one night. Perhaps it was just a sixties party thing? Booze, dope, back of a car …’ Marsha suggested, pulling a face.

This was a step too far for Ed. ‘Eugh! Mum plus drugs plus sex? Stop it.’

‘If she’d been in love with him, surely she’d have told him about the baby?’ Emma said.

‘You’d have thought so.’ Marsha shrugged. ‘I don’t know … maybe Mum having a wild moment is cool. Ruins the honest, straightforward, sort of conventional image I’ve always had of her, but is that a bad thing?’

‘Here’s Lucy.’ Emma looked towards the door.

‘Hi, sorry I’m late.’ She brought a stool from the next-door table and sat down heavily. ‘What have I missed?’

‘Everything,’ Ed said with a grin. ‘Drink?’ He got up.

‘Thanks. Glass of white, please, Eddie.’

‘So how’s things back at the ranch? Any repercussions from Sunday?’ Marsha asked.

Lucy shrugged. ‘Not sure … Dad’s definitely been a bit quiet.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘Don’t know. Sort of careful around Mum, a bit brooding. Not his usual self.’

Ed felt a small twinge of satisfaction. So this love-fest for Daniel wasn’t shared by everyone then.

‘Maybe he’s jealous.’ Emma looked pointedly at him, but he ignored her.

‘Of Daniel, or the father?’ Marsha asked.

Ed gave a short laugh. ‘Both, probably.’

‘Well, it could be hard for him too,’ Emma put in. ‘Even though he’s known about it all along.’

‘Mum does talk about Daniel rather a lot. Can’t wait to meet him, see what all the fuss is about.’ Lucy’s face was alight with anticipation.

‘Me too,’ Marsha agreed.

‘He’ll be a twat.’

Lucy sighed. ‘Here we go … It’s you that looks like the twat, Ed, having a mood every time his name’s mentioned. Especially as you haven’t even met him.’

‘Yeah … don’t do this, Eddie. You’ll just upset Mum, and even if Daniel’s grim – which I accept he may well be, of course – Mum doesn’t deserve you being antsy about him. Especially if Dad’s a bit wound up by it all. It isn’t her fault this guy’s popped up out of nowhere.’

Emma nodded in vigorous agreement with her friend’s words.

‘OK, I get it.’ He stared back at the three stern faces and frowned. ‘I’ll try and behave, but that doesn’t mean I have to like him.’

Ed just didn’t understand why they were so eager to welcome a complete stranger into the family. He remembered the Prodigal Son story from RS at school. He’d always thought it grossly unfair, even as a child: one son at home slogging his guts out for little thanks, then the other one rocks up, a full-on no-good waster, and the father brings out the fatted calf. He couldn’t remember the details – or even the point of the story now – but it rang bells with this Daniel fellow.

‘You never know, you might surprise yourself,’ Marsha was telling him.

As Annie took the short walk to Hampstead Heath that Saturday, she rejoiced in the warm sunshine, the light breeze, the scent of pollen: new life slowly blossoming around her. She was always anxious about getting cold – she blamed her low blood pressure – and today, despite the temperate weather, she wore a fitted tan suede jacket over her white shirt and jeans.

She saw Daniel before he saw her. He was sitting on a bench at the Parliament Hill entrance, where they had arranged to meet. He sat very still, his hands clasped in front of him. She hung back for a minute, and watched him. How beautiful he is! His thick, auburn hair glinted in the spring sunshine, his intelligent eyes and strong family nose conferred a quiet nobility on his face. She realised she was very nervous. This time they would be alone; there would be no buffer state in the shape of Marjory or Jamie. She hoisted the large picnic bag she carried onto the other shoulder and went to greet her son.

They walked past the ponds and north towards Kenwood, then veered west, neither concentrating on where they were going, making small talk about the Heath, the weather, the dogs, until Annie spotted a bench away from the Saturday crowds and they sat down.

‘You shouldn’t have gone to so much trouble.’ Daniel looked on in awe as she decanted the contents of the
cool-bag onto the bench between them. She had made plump brown-bread egg and cress sandwiches; small, crisp chocolate-chip cookies; lemon cupcakes with soft, creamy citrus icing. She’d fried up some chipolata sausages, still warm and nestled in tin foil. There were cherry tomatoes, organic crisps and homemade lemonade. And a thermos of tea. This is like a children’s tea party, she thought with horror, as she laid everything out on the bright blue cotton tablecloth. She realised she was blushing.

‘Trying to recreate your childhood,’ she said, with an embarrassed laugh.

‘It looks wonderful,’ Daniel declared, not meeting Annie’s eye.

‘I hope you didn’t have lunch,’ she went on as she poured the tea. ‘I’m afraid this is what I do. I bake.’

Daniel grinned and shook his head. ‘I’m starving.’

She handed him a paper plate and waited while he helped himself. She had no appetite, but she took a sandwich anyway for the sake of politeness.

‘Did you tell the family?’ he asked. ‘About me.’

‘Yes. Last weekend.’ She hesitated, immediately thinking of Ed, who was still being distant with her. She’d rung him a few times during the week, but he’d only taken one of her calls, and then been carefully polite and too busy to talk. And Richard. Since their conversation about Charles, he’d seemed pensive, not really responding when she’d wanted to talk about Daniel. But Daniel didn’t need to know all this.

‘Were they surprised?’

She nodded. ‘Very. They asked a lot of questions.’ She gave Daniel a brief smile. ‘It’s a relief to get it out in the open at last.’

‘They weren’t upset?’

‘They … I think they were intrigued more than anything. You know, Mother’s secret past …’ She knew her responses sounded stilted, almost cagey. But there was so much she had to edit out of the scene in the kitchen last Sunday. ‘They’re looking forward to meeting you,’ she said.

Daniel’s face broke into a shy grin. ‘Great! I’d love to meet them too.’

‘I thought we might aim for the weekend after next, if that suits you? I’ll check with the others … Ed works shifts, but he can usually change one if he has enough notice.’ She refused to think about what her son’s reaction would be when she asked him to do just that.

Daniel nodded. ‘That’s good for me.’

The sudden silence between them was filled by Annie offering him another sandwich, pressing on him the foil wrap of sausages, ‘before they get too cold’.

‘Tell me about them. Your family.’

Almost reluctantly, as though her family was something to be apologised for, Annie began to talk about her children, her husband, her work. And as she talked, she realised she was editing out the happiness. Stupid, but it didn’t feel right to dwell on the fact that she’d had a good life, a successful life without him.

‘And you?’ she asked, when she thought she’d said enough.

‘Oh, you know … normal, I suppose. Mum didn’t work, outside the home, I mean,’ he added, smiling. ‘She was a brilliant woman. She made things – clothes, jewellery, painted a bit, was mad for redecorating the house – much to my father’s dismay. Always had a project.’ He paused, his expression distant, obviously remembering. ‘And she read a great deal: novels, poetry. I suppose she was a bit of a hippie, and huge fun to be with. People loved her … I loved her. I owe her everything.’

‘You must miss her a lot.’ Annie stifled an unjustified spike of resentment at the word ‘everything’.

‘Every day of my life.’ His eyes lit up with tears, but he wiped them quickly away and reached for another sandwich. ‘Sorry.’

‘Don’t be.’

Neither spoke for a moment.

‘Did you know you were adopted from the beginning?’

‘Oh, yes.’ Daniel nodded. ‘I can’t remember not knowing. Mum used to go on about how she fell in love with me at first sight and knew we’d been destined to be together because my eyes were as blue as hers … which can’t have been true at a couple of weeks old!’ He paused. ‘But Dad … he’s never really mentioned it.’

‘I’m glad you were loved … happy,’ she said.

Daniel looked off into the distance. ‘Happy? I suppose we were.’

She wondered what he meant.

‘I think you’re incredibly brave to have found me.’

‘I’ve been thinking about it for a long time.’ He paused. ‘Not that I’m trying to replace Mum with you – please don’t think that.’

‘No, of course not,’ Annie answered hastily, relieved in a way. She was so familiar with mothering her other children, but she felt at a loss with her elder son. She refilled his cup with tea, handing him the plate of cupcakes.

‘I hope … I hope you won’t just disappear, now you’ve met me.’

A large brown Standard Poodle suddenly leapt up to the bench and began sniffing at the picnic. Annie stroked it and pushed it away from the food. Its owner shouted from the distance and the dog bounced elegantly away. The other people wandering the paths of the Heath seemed very far off, in another world.

‘Beautiful dog,’ she commented.

‘I … I would like to get to know you and your family,’ Daniel said, looking after the leaping dog, ‘if that’s OK.’ He turned his gaze to her. ‘But everyone’s told me not to expect too much.’

She smiled in agreement. ‘They’ve said the same to me. Relentlessly.’

‘I was told it was quite likely you wouldn’t want to see me … It often happens, apparently.’

She couldn’t answer for a moment, remembering her instinctive response to the letter.