The Bad Mother (5 page)

‘In a minute. I need to talk to you both first.’

Mitch slid back into his chair as Tessa sat down at the kitchen table. This sounded serious.

‘I’ve just spoken to your dad.’

Lauren continued nibbling around the edges of her sandwich, her gaze fixed on Tessa.

‘He told me he’s met someone. And as it looks like she’s going to be part of your lives, I—’

‘We know all about him and Nula,’ interrupted Lauren.

‘Yes, that’s what he said.’

Mitch didn’t trust the tightly casual tone of Tessa’s next question: ‘How long have you known?’

Lauren shrugged. ‘Ages. She said we shouldn’t mention it to you until he’d told you himself.’

Mitch watched his mother’s mouth tighten at the corners as if she’d swallowed something bad.

‘Oh,’ was all she said. ‘And you’re all right with it?’

‘Yeah, she’s fun,’ said Lauren, remorseless.

‘Mitch?’

He nodded, wanting to murder his sister.

‘Well, that’s Ok then,’ replied Tessa. ‘So long as you’re both Ok with it. That’s all that matters.’

But Mitch could see that his mum wasn’t at all Ok. ‘Tea?’ he offered once more. This time she assented, and he went to put the kettle on the Aga’s hotplate, glaring at Lauren as he passed her.

‘What?’ she responded. Mitch hated her sometimes.

‘So are you and Dad going to get divorced?’ Lauren asked with false bravado, and then stuck her face back in her sandwich as if hiding from the answer.

‘I think that may be what your dad wants. We’ll see.’

Lauren nodded, her eyes wide, munching mechanically.

‘Sorry I’m not making much sense,’ said Tessa. ‘I think maybe I’m still in shock about something else I found out
today.’ Her voice sounded shaky. ‘Something that’s really thrown me, actually.’

Mitch saw how easily distracted Lauren was by her eagerness for gossip.

‘We had a surprise visitor,’ Tessa went on. ‘Grannie Pamela’s sister Erin.’

Mitch frowned, trying to place the name in the family constellation. ‘She lives in Australia, doesn’t she?’

‘That’s right. She’s here for a flying visit.’

‘Had you met her before?’ he asked.

‘Turns out I have. Turns out there’s a lot of stuff that Hugo and Pamela have kept from me. That no one has ever told me.’

Mitch put a mug of tea down before Tessa and brushed her arm awkwardly with his hand as he passed behind her to sit down again. ‘It’s not that serious between Dad and Nula,’ he assured her, crossing his fingers out of sight under his chair. ‘She’s been helping him with the brasserie, that’s all.’

‘Don’t be silly. I’m fine with that. Why wouldn’t I be? Sam and I will always be best friends.’ Mitch recognised the upbeat tone with which she addressed tiresome guests. ‘I’m afraid this stuff with Erin is much bigger than that,’ she went on. ‘Turns out I’m not who I think I am.’

The way she announced this seemed to Mitch a bit over-the-top, more like Lauren when she wasn’t getting enough attention.

‘What does that mean?’ he asked, sounding to himself like Grandpa Hugo, using the same tone that showed he
wasn’t having the wool pulled over his eyes. On the other hand, things generally got sorted out once Grandpa Hugo was involved.

‘Well …’ Tessa took a deep breath. ‘Turns out Pamela’s not my mother but my aunt. Erin’s my real mother.’

‘Awesome,’ exclaimed Lauren. ‘That’s so cool!’

Mitch turned on his sister. ‘It’s not cool. It’s horrible.’

‘What’s she like?’ asked Lauren. ‘When do we get to meet her?’

‘Soon,’ Tessa answered.

‘So why didn’t she bring you up?’ asked Mitch.

‘She was sixteen. Unmarried. In those days it was scandalous. Well, somewhere like Felixham it was, anyway. You can imagine Great-Grandma Averil’s reaction!’

‘Yes! Poor kid.’

Although Tessa agreed, he could see that she bristled at his sympathy for Erin. ‘You never knew?’ he asked her. Tessa shook her head. ‘Why hadn’t they told you?’

‘I don’t know.’ She took a deep breath. ‘But what it also means is that Hugo is not my biological father. He’s no relation at all. Not even your grandfather, come to that.’

Mitch saw tears in his mother’s eyes, and felt like he did sometimes when he stood up too fast after concentrating for hours on his games console. He felt guilty now for assuming his mother had been attention-seeking, seriously disliked the idea of Grandpa Hugo being somehow cut adrift.

‘But Erin’s really glamorous, isn’t she?’ asked Lauren. ‘Grannie Pamela talks about her – says she’s been all over the world, organises vacations for celebrities and stuff.’

‘So what?’ Mitch demanded.

‘Because this is like something mega-exciting for once.’

‘You’re so stupid. It’s awful. Can’t you see that?’

Dodging his mother’s outstretched arm, her surprised, grateful face, Mitch slammed out of the kitchen.

SIX

The following morning, after the night’s guests had either paid their bills or gone out for the day, Tessa set out to walk back over to her parents’ house. Hugo had told her on the phone that he would take Pamela out to lunch, then to a gallery perhaps – maybe the Sainsbury Centre, a favourite of hers – and leave the way clear for Erin and Tessa to talk privately for as long as they wished.

It had been strange speaking to Hugo, to this father who was suddenly not her father, not part of her at all. Sam’s question the previous day had been a body-blow, and she felt foolish that the other side of the equation had not even occurred to her. All her life she had taken it for granted that half of her identity came from Hugo. She didn’t know why her certainty that she was rooted in a long line of Suffolk stock should matter, but the notion that she was descended from something unknown left her unpleasantly off-balance. All her life, whenever Pamela was remote or dismissive, Hugo had been there, loving, solid and reasonable, a known entity. But, she supposed,
he had not changed: it was she who was no longer the person she thought she was.

The day had started damp and shivery, and for once she wished for the proximity of a more secure element than the sea. The brownish waves covered too many contradictions, too many hidden depths. The footpath was sticky with mud, and she paused for a moment on the footbridge to stare out towards the sea. The fast-moving clouds ran low over distant, churning water, and she turned to lean on the opposite rail, to look inland at the pale reeds and sentinel bulrushes unmoving in the chilly air, and, further off into the mist, the early green of the trees on the rising land.

She had slept badly, had dreamt of Sam. But she didn’t want to think about him either. Why had she been so complacent as to let herself believe that deep down he still saw them as married, been content to assume that his recent happiness was due to the brasserie taking shape? Of course, she didn’t really believe what he’d said, that he was in love with Nula. She knew Sam too well. He’d be all too ready to fall for someone who made life easy for him, who shared his enthusiasms and eased his way. But how could she not have known, not even have suspected? In the same way, she supposed, that she had never glimpsed the truth about her birth. The sole reason she had missed abundant clues to both was that she was blind and stupid. Pierced by shame and sadness, she stuck her hands in her jacket pockets and headed onwards, wishing now that she had driven instead.

Turning onto the lane, she looked down at her boots, which were heavy with mud. She would have to take them off when she arrived and leave them in the porch. She didn’t want to have to hop about while Erin stood waiting on the pale-coloured carpet; but if she waited to take them off before ringing the bell, then Erin would either be mystified at what she was up to or open the door and expose her before she was ready. She felt silly worrying about such vanities in the face of so significant a meeting. And yet somehow, beyond a reluctance to be here at all, she couldn’t make herself believe that this meeting with her birth mother was of any great significance.

Wondering if it was shallow of her to suppose it didn’t matter who’d conceived and carried her, she experienced a flare of abandonment and loss. Her usual nagging sense that she was not enough, incomplete, not good enough, fed her deepest and most secret fear: that Sam had been able to detach himself from her with so little effort because the roots of his love had never gone very deep, that despite their children there was no real bond between them. As she rang the chiming bell, that fear transmuted into blame: they had all lied to her, concluded it wasn’t worth telling the truth to her, and excluded her by sharing secrets with other people. None of it was her fault and she had every right to feel angry, upset and betrayed.

When Erin opened the door, Tessa rushed into a long explanation about her muddy boots and was aware of Erin watching, clearly bemused, as she removed them. She followed Erin into the lounge, feeling childish and vulnerable
in her socks. Once again she wished that this woman in her high heels and expensive business suit had stayed in Sydney.

A tray of coffee had been laid out on the side table by the window, and Erin offered to pour for Tessa before settling herself in an armchair.

‘Before we start,’ began Erin, ‘I want to say how sorry I am that it all came tumbling out like this.’

‘You must’ve known it would.’

‘I didn’t come here intending for this to happen.’

‘Really?’

‘Honestly, I didn’t come with any plan in mind. But I just didn’t expect to be so overwhelmed. I’m so sorry. It must have been one hell of a shock.’

‘Yes.’

‘Though I think maybe Pamela’s relieved, don’t you? I hadn’t realised quite how guilty she still felt, even though it was so long ago.’

Tessa nodded, hurt that still no one seemed to be putting her at the heart of all this.

‘Because I want you to know that I’m not the victim here,’ Erin continued. ‘I don’t want you to be sorry for me.’

‘Ok,’ agreed Tessa.

‘I was a bored teenager. It was a holiday romance. No offence, but nowadays I’d probably do the sensible thing and forget all about it.’

‘Why didn’t you?’ asked Tessa, dismayed that perhaps she ought to take offence at the suggestion that she should have been aborted.

‘Left it too late. Couldn’t face telling my mother that I’d let her down. It wasn’t so easy in those days.’

‘I can imagine.’ Tessa thought of Grandma Averil’s lifelong determination that Tessa should succeed her in running the B&B, how despite Tessa’s own unplanned pregnancy Averil had encouraged her to finish her course in Business and Hotel Management and take her final exams. After a rushed wedding she and Sam had moved into the attic flat, and overnight it seemed, and with no effort on their part, they had a home, a business and a baby.

‘I couldn’t even face telling Pamela,’ Erin continued. ‘She was so desperate by then to have a baby herself, it made it even worse.’

‘Is that why you gave her yours?’

‘It seemed the best thing all round. And I knew Pamela would take good care of you.’ Erin paused and sipped her coffee, smiling as she looked out at the beautifully tended garden where a gleam of sun lit up the beads of moisture dripping from the wet leaves. ‘It’s been Pamela I’ve missed the most. She always looked out for me.’

‘How come no one in Felixham ever found out?’

‘They probably did. Pamela had been married five years by then, and suddenly, right when I emigrated, she has a baby? But who around here would be brave enough to make a comment to Averil?’

Tessa couldn’t help a wry smile of agreement. ‘So where was I born?’ she asked. ‘It says Burton upon Trent on my birth certificate.’

‘That’s right.’

‘They always told me they were there because Hugo was on some kind of management course to do with the brewery.’

‘That’s true,’ Erin confirmed. ‘Horrible place, but perfect timing. Mum made me join them as soon as I started to show.’ She shivered at the memory, looking suddenly tired and old despite her gloss and sheen. ‘It was awful, the three of us cooped up like that in a rented flat. I must have been a total pain.’

As Tessa tried to imagine it, Erin seemed to read her thoughts. ‘I’d never have got through it all without Pamela,’ she went on. ‘And Hugo – he was a saint. If we’d been able to stay there, away from Averil, maybe things would’ve been different.’ She shook herself, as if dispelling some old grief. ‘But you’re Ok, aren’t you?’ she asked brightly. ‘It all turned out Ok?’

Tessa nodded. ‘How old was I when you handed me over?’

‘A few weeks. I was bundled onto a plane as soon as I’d signed the papers – no time for second thoughts.’

‘Would you have changed your mind? Do you regret going?’ Tessa thought back to the overwhelming flood of tenderness and protectiveness she’d experienced when she’d first held each of her babies. She could not begin to imagine the panic and terror she would’ve felt if asked to surrender her child. ‘It must have been incredibly hard.’

Erin thought for a moment. ‘I think that the important thing in life is to find out what you’re good at. I’m a grafter, like Averil was. Love my job. Been perfectly happy
not to marry. Got my dogs, though. Look, I’ll show you.’ She ferreted around in her black patent handbag and took out a leather wallet, from which she drew a picture of two black Scotties. She handed it to Tessa. The dogs had been posed against an artificial backdrop, and the photograph looked to Tessa like an expensive studio shot.

‘Dusty and Daisy,’ Erin informed her. ‘Cute, aren’t they?’

‘Adorable,’ answered Tessa, suppressing hysterical laughter as she handed back the picture.

‘They’re the reason I can’t change my plans and stay longer, I’m afraid. Work I could get away with, but I can’t abandon my dogs. They’d never forgive me!’

‘You must travel a lot.’ asked Tessa. Recalling what Lauren had said about Erin being glamorous, she realised that Pamela must have encouraged Lauren to admire Erin – and done so covertly.

‘Yes. Though after a while, one hotel room looks much like another. Do you have dogs?’

‘No.’ Tessa felt she could not begin to explain the difficulties of keeping pets in a B&B (which in any case Erin must comprehend) without laughing at the surreal turn of the conversation. She seized the main topic again: ‘How long did you look after me? Or maybe they didn’t let you?’