The Bad Mother (21 page)

‘Really delicious,’ seconded Quinn. ‘And so cute, the way it’s served!’

Charlie turned to Quinn. ‘We must come here for dinner.’

Tessa saw Mitch glance at Tamsin in alarm, drawing a fraction closer to her before quickly veiling his reaction. Tessa studied the girl more closely. She stood tall and slender in comparison to Lauren, her hair falling sleekly across her shoulder, but her poise was natural and unconscious. If anything, her earnest demeanour seemed to beg you to like her. Tessa caught Mitch’s eye, and her son’s look of bashful pride revealed the unmistakable intimacy between them: they were in love.

The reasonable part of Tessa registered a poignant amusement, but something more primitive spewed out a dark sense of loss that her curly-haired baby, her boy, was transferring his affections away from her, in truth was already gone. Added to her existing feeling of alienation in her present surroundings, this made her feel old and superfluous.

‘They’re like so busy in the kitchen,’ said Lauren. ‘See you later, Mum.’

Following Lauren’s progress across the room, Tessa couldn’t avoid the sight of Nula at Sam’s side, her hand resting on his chest as he bent to speak into her ear. As Nula nodded, smiling up into his face, Tessa reflected that the opening seemed almost equally a celebration of them as a couple. She became aware that Charlie was speaking to her.

‘Mitch here seems to have inherited his father’s genius for cooking,’ he observed. ‘He rustled up some pretty mean-looking eggs the other day!’

Tessa was surprised: Mitch had never mentioned being inside the Crawford house, let alone making himself so at home there.

‘But Mitch wants to be a lawyer, don’t you?’ Tamsin turned to Tessa. ‘Dad’s been explaining what media lawyers do. Mitch thinks it’s really cool.’

As Tamsin smiled up at him, Tessa was comforted by the pride that mingled with her sorrow at the inexorable parting from her son.

Charlie Crawford nodded, turning to Mitch. ‘You can do anything with a law degree. Have you decided which university?’

‘Not yet,’ Mitch replied.

Tessa touched his arm. ‘We must go to some open days, now the exams are over.’

‘Trinity’s a good college for law,’ said Charlie. ‘I knew a lot of lawyers there.’

‘But that’s Cambridge, isn’t it?’ asked Tessa, then saw too late from Mitch’s expression that her lack of faith would not be lightly forgiven.

‘My history teacher said Downing was good too.’ Mitch drew himself up, addressing Charlie, not her.

‘But not as pretty!’ Tamsin said with a laugh.

‘I need to have a look around,’ Mitch agreed, raising his chin in open challenge to Tessa. ‘See if I like it.’

She felt immediate remorse for her meagre vision of her son’s potential. ‘I’ll come with you,’ she assured him. ‘Whenever you want.’

Mitch shrugged and hefted his tray. ‘Better get back to work.’ After affectionately nudging Tamsin’s arm with his elbow he disappeared into the throng, leaving Tessa with her glamorous new acquaintances.

‘Mitch tells me your family’s been in Felixham for generations,’ said Charlie, and Tessa was grateful for the safe harbour offered by his charm. ‘That’s rare these days,’ he went on. ‘Must be good to have strong roots in a place?’

‘Yes,’ she agreed. ‘My grandmother’s parents came here when they were first married. And on my father’s side, we’ve been in Suffolk for centuries.’ She coloured: only after she’d said it did she remember that Hugo’s history was nothing to do with her, that half her family came from the north, from a landscape she had never visited. She felt keenly how different her life – and her expectations for herself and her children – might have been if Roy had been part of it from the beginning.

A little while later Tessa found Hugo and Pamela chatting to some of Hugo’s former colleagues from the brewery.

‘Tessie,’ Hugo greeted her with an anxious smile and a hand on her arm. ‘How are you?’

From the concern etched in his weary face, she guessed that Pamela had indeed told him about Roy. Too acutely aware of the hypocrisy of calling them ‘Mum’ and ‘Dad’ while so much of her energy was invested in finding out
how it felt
not
to be their child, she merely nodded in response.

Pamela leaned in close. ‘This must be hard for you, darling,’ she said in too loud a whisper.

‘It’s just a party,’ Tessa responded. ‘I’m fine.’

Accepting the rebuke, Pamela polished off her glass of wine and reached out for a second. Seeing Pamela’s eyes glaze over, a trickle of similar occasions when Pamela had had an extra drink, been tired and gone to bed early, or handed over her car keys and asked Tessa to drive, started to pool into a pattern. The dejection in Hugo’s face confirmed her insight, but she rejected pity or sympathy for either of them: she had enough on her plate.

‘I think I’m done here,’ she said. ‘I’m going home. Don’t want to keep Carol on duty longer than I need to.’

Part of her cried out for Hugo to detain her, to claim her as his own, to insist on accompanying her, but he nodded in submission. ‘You must do what’s best,’ he agreed.

On her way to the door she saw Charlie and Quinn ahead of her, Charlie guiding Quinn with a caressing hand on her back. She watched as he stopped to shake Sam’s hand, clapping him on the arm as if they were old friends, and, over Charlie’s shoulder, saw Sam spy her, unanchored and exposed.

At that moment Lauren passed nearby with a tray full of empty ramekins, and Tessa stepped into her path.

‘You’re coming home tonight, aren’t you? It’ll be late before it finishes, and Dad will have a lot of clearing up to do.’

‘Nula said I could stay and help. It’s not like I have school tomorrow.’

‘But he’ll be tired in the morning. Come home, and leave him in peace.’

‘He likes having me stay!’

‘That’s not what I meant! You and Mitch should come home.’

‘Tessa,’ Sam greeted her with a kiss on the cheek. ‘I’m glad you came. What do you think?’

Her face tight from the exchange with Lauren, Tessa forced a smile. ‘I think it’s going to be a huge success. Well done.’

He grinned and let out a long, dramatic breath of relief. ‘Can’t believe it’s all gone so well. So far.’ He held up his crossed fingers. ‘Thanks to the brilliant extra help!’ He reached out and ruffled Lauren’s hair. She glowed with pleasure.

‘Dad, I can stay tonight, can’t I?’ she asked. ‘I’m supposed to be helping. Nula said I could.’

‘Couldn’t manage without you!’ laughed Sam.

‘Hello.’

Tessa swung round to face Nula, trying to gather her wits enough to say something suitable.

‘Thank you for coming.’ Nula reached out and very lightly touched her arm. Tessa jerked as if she’d been given an electric shock. Looking around in panic, she found Mitch beside her and felt instantly calmed and comforted.

‘You’ve done a great job,’ Tessa told Nula. ‘I really like
the chrome against the wood and brick. Very smart. And of course the food’s delicious.’

‘Of course!’ echoed Nula with a friendly smile. Tessa knew that the brief look of love Nula gave Sam was not intended to be proprietorial, but the warmth of his answering glance slashed through any remaining illusions to which she might have clung.

Sam turned back to her. ‘You don’t mind if I get the kids cracking again, do you? Though you must stay and try some of the desserts. There’s lemon meringue about to come out of the oven.’

‘And banoffee pie!’ declared Lauren.

‘Come on, kids!’ Without further farewell Sam moved away, shepherding Nula and Lauren before him. Mitch hovered, uncertain, his gaze following Sam. Tessa grabbed his arm. ‘Wait a moment!’

‘I don’t want to leave Tamsin by herself,’ he apologised. ‘Her dad said it was fine for her to stay and help out so long as I take her home afterwards.’

Tessa let him go. At the entrance to the kitchen, he turned and gave her a wave before he disappeared.

Alone, Tessa left the heat and noise of the brasserie and encountered the cool breeze from the sea. Felixham was quiet, and the tap of her high-heeled shoes on the pavement echoed off the dark shopfronts. She hoped that maybe, when she got home, one of the guests might need a hot drink or an extra pillow, something simple she could offer someone which would be gladly received.

TWENTY-NINE

Ten days later Tessa sat with Mitch and Hugo on the train to Cambridge. Pamela had originally said she’d come with them, but Hugo was by himself when he’d met up with them at the station. She questioned what his tactful excuse that Pamela was ‘a bit under the weather’ truly signified. Watching the green East Anglian countryside sweep past the windows of the train, she wondered how far Pamela’s habitual reserve over the years had disguised a problem with alcohol, or whether drinking provided an excuse not to face the difficulty of engaging with family life. Either explanation helped make sense of Pamela’s absence on similarly important occasions, like choosing Tessa’s wedding dress (a sensitive endeavour, since her pregnancy was already showing) or driving to college for her first term away from home. Tessa had always assumed that Pamela had cried off because she hadn’t cared enough to put herself out, but now she began to view the past differently.

She couldn’t yet decide whether Pamela’s fear that her motherhood was merely a masquerade exonerated or
further condemned her withdrawals. Surely her repeated failures to share in significant events such as this – Mitch deciding his future – were reason enough to bring the adoption out in the open, so they could all have led normal lives? Either way it felt healthy to Tessa now to admit that she was angry with Pamela for not accompanying them today. Hugo, too, must be tired of covering up for her. She wondered what Pamela’s absences must’ve been like for him. Looking across at him, she thought how careworn he was, the result, she supposed, of years of watchfulness – and possibly loneliness too. He caught her eye and smiled back.

While Mitch explained the reasons why certain colleges were better than others for studying law, Tessa tried to puzzle it out. It would have made more sense if Hugo had been the one to enforce the secret of her adoption: he, after all, had the most to gain from it. But they’d told her that it had been Pamela’s decision to obey Averil and say nothing. Why? It couldn’t have been that Pamela shared Averil’s fear of scandal, especially when an acknowledgement of Erin’s motherhood would have absolved her guilt and set her free to love her adopted child in her own way. So why else had Pamela been so scared of the truth coming out?

If Tessa had been on her own in the train with Hugo she might have asked him, but she didn’t want to involve Mitch. And besides, the poor man looked miserable enough. Tessa knew how badly she would have wounded him by not telling him herself about her visits to Roy.
Pamela must have told him, but Tessa had not yet had the courage to raise the subject. And if she didn’t, she knew he’d be too considerate to bring it up himself.

Once off the train, Tessa wished she’d worn more comfortable shoes, admitting to herself that she’d dressed more smartly than she might otherwise because she found the idea of Cambridge a little intimidating. Reaching the centre of town, they discovered that most of the colleges were closed to the public, with people in elaborate gowns stationed outside the great wooden entrance doors to turn tourists away. Those that were open were expensive to enter, but Mitch insisted they all pay to go into Trinity because it was the college Tamsin favoured.

Despite the flawless green of the lawns, into which were stuck discreet signs forbidding visitors to walk, the heat came in pounding waves off the stone buildings enclosing the Great Court. Amidst such grandeur, Tessa knew it wasn’t only the heat that was beating down on her but also the sense of privilege and exclusion. She wasn’t sure she could imagine her son here, or picture Mitch’s name painted in old-fashioned black and white lettering on the wall alongside those listed at the entrance to each of the dim stairwells where she assumed the students lived during term-time.

But Tessa could imagine Mitch here. With a sinking heart, she knew she couldn’t picture
herself
as the parent of a Cambridge undergraduate. The featureless classrooms where she’d learned about hotel management couldn’t have been more different from these ancient surroundings.
No one in her family, or Sam’s, had ever been to university, and Hugo, although fascinated by history and old buildings, was no more than a tourist enjoying the sights. Except, she corrected herself with a jolt, that of course Mitch’s grandfather had studied architecture and then become a university lecturer. Maybe, she realised joyfully, Mitch had every right to expand his horizons, just as Roy encouraged her to do.

In her mind, she listened to Roy’s voice assuring her that she could be good at anything she set her sights on. So why did she fear to believe that for her children too? What heights might Mitch reach if he succeeded in gaining a place here? Maybe he would become one of those barristers in a wig and gown, inhabiting imposing courts of justice like those she saw on the news. Rather than be intimidated by such a future, she should embrace it.

‘There’s not much shade around here, is there?’ Hugo’s question interrupted her thoughts.

‘There are one or two other colleges I’d like to look at,’ said Mitch, consulting the map he’d bought. ‘But we could get a cup of tea first, if you want.’

‘Maybe your mum and I can find a bench somewhere,’ Hugo suggested. ‘And you can explore on your own for a bit.’

Tessa saw the gratitude in Mitch’s smile, though he tried to disguise it. ‘Be cheaper, too, than all of us paying to go in,’ she pointed out, encouraging Mitch to feel free and independent.

‘Well, if you don’t mind.’ He looked at his map again. ‘You could sit by the river,’ he suggested. ‘That might be nice.’

Letting Mitch make his escape, Tessa and Hugo found an unoccupied bench under a willow tree with a view across to a pub that must once have been a mill. They’d bought bottles of water, and were sharing a bag of crisps – a guilty pleasure that took them back to Tessa’s childhood when Hugo had always made the pretence of holding out for cheese and onion before capitulating and buying salt and vinegar.