The Stepmother (20 page)

“Thank you,” said Jimmy. “And, Bea, I'm so sorry. I know you do so much already…” I put down the receiver.

It was about then that I remembered Amber's old ballet things were kept upstairs, waiting for her siblings to grow into it. I went upstairs to her room. In the top cupboard there were boxes labeled with all sorts of clothes waiting to be handed down. There was a jumper box, trousers, summer stuff, swimwear, sports, and, of course, in such a female household, a huge ballet box. Everything was in age order. It was all clean, and neatly folded. I pulled out the pile marked
AGED
10. It might be a fraction too big, but it would do. I got into the car and drove to the school. I handed over the already named uniform to Lulu and was rewarded with her huge hug, and grateful smiles from the teachers. They understood how hard it was to oversee three children, and one big one who caused more havoc than all the rest. I waved a hand, casual, in control. The cross we bear.

“You're brilliant,” said Mrs. Hitchens. “We're not really allowed, but would you like to stay and watch?” Nothing would be nicer, I thought. When Lulu saw me, her face made me fill up. She is totally crap at ballet, but her enthusiasm wins everyone over. I clapped hard when she had finished, and took her smile with me when I left.

Jimmy had left three anxious messages. I decided to call him later.

I got into the car and drove home, humming to the radio. I went up to Amber's room and replaced all the boxes in the order I'd found them. Closing the cupboard on the hand-me-downs, I wondered, still smiling to myself, why on earth I hadn't thought of them before.

T
HE FOLLOWING
W
EDNESDAY EVENING, THE BELL RANG
. T
HEY WERE LATE
. And Amber, as usual, would rather get me up to open the door than bother to look for her keys. But they were here. And that was good. I pulled at my new dress and adjusted the neckline in the hall mirror. With a quick smack of the lips, I opened the door.

“Honor!” I exclaimed. “Er…What—”

“Hello, Bea. Jimmy asked me to collect the girls.”

“Oh?” I peered into the street. “He's not with you?”

“No.”

“Hi, girls,” I said.

“Hi, Mum,” they chorused, and pushed past me.

“Sorry I'm a bit late. We've been at the Science Museum.”

“I wish Jimmy would tell me when he changes plans like this.”

“Sorry. They're all fed and watered, though.” She turned to go.

“It's not your fault. Please come in. I haven't seen you since Luke's party. It would be nice to catch up.”

“I'd love to.” Honor came into my small house, closed the door, and
threw her coat over the banister. “You look great, Bea. How much have you lost?”

“I don't know. A bit.”

“Bea?”

I couldn't suppress a victorious smile. “Um, nearly fourteen pounds.”

“That's unbelievable. So quickly?”

I laughed nervously. “Doesn't feel quick. I'm told by my guide at Weight Watchers that the beginning is the easiest bit. I can't believe that's true. It's been bloody hard. But the scales are moving in the right direction, which is an incentive to continue.”

“So you're doing Weight Watchers?”

I escorted my former mother-in-law to the kitchen. “I couldn't do it on my own. It's all very controlled. I need that. Too many temptations in this house, too many chances to cheat, what with the biscuits and the children's supper. Fish fingers are my downfall.” I laughed. “This way I have to stick to certain amounts of points a day, but if I accidentally inhale one of those evil orange rectangles, I can deduct the points and it doesn't send me racing for the cheddar with the excuse that all is lost. Veggies are free, so I'm perpetually munching a carrot or something.” My God, it almost sounded healthy.

“Well, congratulations, Bea. I'm very impressed.”

Don't be. I'm lying through my black-coffee-stained teeth. “I was going to wait until the girls were in bed before I have my two-point glass of wine, but since you're here, would you care to join me?”

“Love to. Your girls are delightful, but exhausting. Just one. I'm driving.”

“That's all I'm allowed,” I said, smiling broadly. Maybe I do know where Amber gets her acting skills from.

“Lovely. Thanks.”

“So what happened to Jimmy this time? Some big deal about to go through?” I asked knowingly.

“Oh, this was more of a personal nature,” said Honor.

“Really.”

“Some tiff, apparently. They've gone away.”

All right for some, I thought, and wondered who was paying. “A tiff?”

“Something about a missing ballet kit. The poor girl might be finding the prospect of becoming a stepmother harder than she expected. Have you met her yet?”

“Seen her through a car door, but I'm not sure that counts. I don't think Jimmy's quite ready for the full ménage à trois. We might start comparing notes.”

Honor laughed. I laughed with her. Ha. Ha. Ha.

“She seems a very nice girl, actually. Lulu and Maddy are clearly besotted, but Amber might be giving her a run for her money.”

“Besotted. Yes. Lovely. I thought Amber liked her too. She's always playing that Dumbbell record. I think Tessa works with them or something.” Obviously by now I knew exactly what Tessa did, and had Googled her several times, but I had to feign total disinterest or Honor would clam up. And with my children failing to keep me abreast of the gossip, I needed her on-side. No one could suspect a thing.

“A useful perk,” said Honor.

“You're telling me.”

“I think Tessa might have slightly overdone that one, though.”

“Really?” I said again.

“Well, Amber did mention feeling as if she was being bought off.”

That's my girl. “I almost feel sorry for Tessa,” I said, completely falsely.

“Well, she's quite a piece of work, that one.”

I decided to assume Honor meant Tessa, though I knew she didn't. I poured two glasses of wine.

“And that's only two points?” asked Honor.

I winked at her. “Well, I may cheat a wee bit on that.”

“Don't blame you.” She raised her glass. “To you. I'm very impressed. As always.” I remembered just in time not to drink as if I were alone, and sat down.

Honor and I sipped our wine and had a nice, normal conversation while my children got ready for bed. What I really wanted to do was talk about the wedding plans. I had managed to play it cool for a while, but even I couldn't hold out forever. “The girls are very excited about being bridesmaids. The promise of a new dress is the way to any girl's heart.”

“It's not just them. Tessa has a lot of godchildren and wants them all to be involved. One of them already knows the girls. They've played a lot over the year. Funny name. Corky or something. Same age as Maddy, I think. So it'll be those three definitely. Then there are two little boys, very sweet, who'll toddle up behind. And a bigger boy who's going to be an usher.”

“Luke going to be best man again?” I asked wryly.

“Oh, no,” said Honor. “That's the best bit of their plan, I think.”

“What?”

“Jimmy asked Amber to be his best girl.”

“Bet Tessa loved that.” I tried to sound lighthearted to hide my shock. How much was my darling daughter keeping from me?

“Jimmy told me it was Tessa's idea—she did it once, apparently. Don't tell Amber, we're not supposed to know. Tessa is refusing to take the credit. Nice girl. Sorry, is talking about the wedding plans getting a bit too much?”

I shook my head and fixed the smile back onto my face. It was beyond too much. It was just the excuse I needed. I took a large swig of wine. I'll give you nice girl.

“Amber's been chatting about it all afternoon. She's so excited about it. Her idea is not to do a speech about Jimmy but to rewrite the words of ‘Can't Help Lovin' Dat Man'…Loving that Dad of mine…Sweet, isn't it? She'll bring the house down, as usual.”

“Singing it, gosh.” No, no, no. This I couldn't bear.

“Well, they've booked the band—you know them, they did Luke's fortieth. Amber's already been on to them about rehearsal time. She's incredibly tenacious when she wants something. It's impressive for someone her age. She has real ambition. Most teenagers I know are sloths.”

“They've booked the band?”

Honor nodded.

“So they have a date already?” Could this get any worse?

Honor held up her hands. “I'm so sorry, Bea, I assumed you knew.”

I brushed away her concern. Bluff now, fall to pieces later. “Jimmy can't remember to tell me when he isn't picking up his children, I don't know why I'm still surprised. So, when's it going to be?”

“June the twenty-first. Midsummer night.”

“No guessing who plays Bottom.”

Honor studied me.

“I'm kidding—so, a big summer wedding, then?”

“About a hundred and twenty, I think. Tessa has a small family but a ridiculous number of friends to make up for it. We're going to Oxford for lunch to meet her parents, see the house and the lie of the land. Tessa wants to tent over an orchard.”

“Sounds very grand.” Damn, was my glass nearly empty already?

“Not that grand. Dwarf pear trees. It'll be rather beautiful dining among trees, under a twinkly-light canopy, fairy lights up the tree trunks.”

Sounded beautiful. “Sounds expensive,” I said.

“Well, Mr. and Mrs. King only have one daughter so I imagine a little pot was put aside. They've been waiting long enough. Actually, I get the feeling that Tessa thinks it's a bit quick, but Jimmy's determined and, well, she isn't getting any younger.”

From what I'd glimpsed, she looked like a child to me. Childbearing, certainly. The hole opened again. I swallowed the last slug of wine to close it. “A hundred and twenty guests,” I said. “That's”—the same as we had—“quite a statement, isn't it, for a second marriage? I mean, don't you sort of slip it under the radar for appearances' sake?”

“It's not her second marriage.”

“Of course not. Silly me. Big white dress, then, I guess?”

“Somehow I doubt Tessa King is the big-white-dress type.”

“Second wives rarely are. More wine?”

“Are you allowed?”

“My ex-husband's getting married,” I said. “Sod the points.”

I refilled my glass and topped up Honor. She watched me. When my marriage had been failing, Honor was the person who had tried to talk to me about it. She was an astute woman and that rare breed of mother who could love her son and still see his faults. I should have confided in her then. But I couldn't. I still couldn't. “Are you finding this Tessa thing difficult?”

I sat back in the chair. A little bit of truth would make the lie sound convincing. “What I find difficult is that no one's telling me anything.
That makes me feel weird. I don't like being kept at arm's length and I don't need protecting.”

“What makes you think you're the one being protected?”

I blinked at my ex-mother-in-law.

“Do you have any idea what a daunting prospect it must be to follow in your footsteps?”

“Me? Overweight, overwrought, over-the-hill me?” I laughed. “I don't think so.”

Honor folded her arms in front of her chest. “Shall I tell you what we see?”

I wanted to say no. Sometimes it was easier to believe the bad things.

“I see a woman who is bringing up three children pretty much single-handed. Jimmy's wonderful with the girls, but he spoils them—”

“So would I if I only had them every other weekend.”

“Maybe. But it means the nuts and bolts of it are down to you and you alone. The organizing, the arranging, the picking up and dropping off, every meal, the washing, and that's before any of the discipline stuff. You have three lovely girls, you must be doing something right.”

I stood up and went to the sink. I brushed away a tear. “You're describing pretty much any mother I know. Married or not, the buck stops with us. I can't imagine you got much help from Peter.”

“It was different then. The pace of life was much slower, expectations lower. Jimmy and Luke spent hours playing football in the street. Couldn't do that now, could you? I think you're under much more pressure than I ever was. Motherhood has become some sort of competitive profession. I've collected the girls. I've seen the club lists, chess, Mandarin, debating! All the women look immaculate. It's terrifying and I'm not easily terrified.”

I leaned against the sink. “You know why we do it?”

Honor shrugged. “Why?”

“Because deep down we don't value what we do. If I really believed that being efficient, sewing hundreds of school scrunchies, helping out on school trips was an achievement, I wouldn't feel like such a waste of space. I'm just as educated as my children will be. And I do nothing.”

“Weren't you listening to me? What you do is
amazing.
You have wonderful children.”

“So do my friends who work. Trust me, I've been waiting for that not to be the case.”

“I don't understand.”

I finished my second glass of wine. “I'm not as altruistic as you think. Actually, I'm not as nice as you think.”

“Bea—”

“It's true. All that worthy crap is peppered with a terrible hope that somehow my presence at the cake stall will make my children happier than those of the mothers who aren't there because they're still at the coal face. There's nothing scarier than discovering their kids aren't distressed and, in fact, the children who don't have any balance are yours.”

“I had no idea you felt this way.”

I bit my lip. “Neither did I.” I went to the fridge. “Fancy another?”

“Better make it a small one. I've got to drive home.”

“Well, I'm not going anywhere,” I said, topping up Honor's glass and filling my own.

“Has all this been brought on by Jimmy getting married?”

I thought for a while. “Partly, I suppose. My daughters are going to have a stepmother who is a better role model than I am. That sticks in the throat a little.”

“Single, childless, and nearly forty. You want that for your daughters?”

“Independent, working, old enough to know what she's letting herself in for. It won't be twenty years of unpaid servitude for Tessa King, I tell you that. And she isn't single, childless, and forty. She's soon to be married, will have three lovely stepdaughters, no war wounds, and a great relationship. I'll be the one who's single, childless, and, God damn it, nearly fifty.”

“You are not.”

“I will be. They'll grow up very soon and then Tessa and I will be equals. We'll share an adult relationship with each of them. Eventually childhood will be forgotten. What will all those scrunchies do for me then?”

“But the base, who they are—”

“Is who they were always going to be unless we did something terrible. Well, I've done one of the most terrible things you can do to children. I took them away from their father. Between her and me, she's the one who's looking pretty amazing. And the annoying thing is, it's no more than your lovely son deserves.”

Honor reached over and took my hand. “You are the mother of my grandchildren, Tessa King or no Tessa King. Nothing will change that. I love you like a daughter and I thank you for them every day and I will continue to do so. I know this is hard. Maybe you're right and it will get harder. But, please, never, ever tell me that what you do is of no value. It is invaluable, Bea. Invaluable. Do you hear me?” I couldn't speak. So I drank instead.