Wishes and Tears (36 page)

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Authors: Dee Williams

BOOK: Wishes and Tears
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‘What if they throw me out?'
‘That's a risk we'll take. Oh come on, it'll do you good to do something different for change.'
‘I can think of a thousand better things to do.'
‘Perhaps we could have a birthday lunch out, then go and see her. We could even take her some flowers and some for your father's grave.'
‘It's a funny birthday treat.'
‘I know, but I feel I should try to see my grandmother again.'
‘Why?'
‘I don't know. I just do.'
‘Well, if you really want to ...'
‘It'll be nice.' Paula put the phone down and went over to Janie, who was lying in her carrycot. ‘You're going to see your great-grandma next Sunday.' Then added, ‘Let's hope the weather's kind to us.'
 
On Sunday the weather was kind and although Janet wasn't very happy at the thought of seeing her mother again, the drive to Stowford was pleasant.
When they arrived at the church the morning service was over and the congregation were in little groups quietly talking. Janet and Paula sat in the car while Janie had her bottle.
‘That looks like Mark's mother,' said Janet, pointing out a woman who was wearing a large black hat.
‘Do you want to go and talk to her?'
Janet shook her head. ‘No.'
‘Didn't you get on with her?'
‘Yes, I did. She's a nice person and Mr Scott was a lovely man; they always made me so welcome.'
‘So why don't you go and have a word with her?'
‘I'd rather not. Besides, she might not recognize me.'
Paula laughed. ‘You haven't changed that much.'
‘No. I'll wait to see the vicar's wife.'
‘There she is,' said Paula.
As she was moving towards the vicarage alone, Janet decided that was probably the best place to have a word with her. She left the car.
‘Excuse me.'
The vicar's wife turned round. ‘Yes.'
‘I don't suppose you recognize me, I'm Janet Slater, Mrs Slater's daughter.'
The woman straightened her back. ‘Yes, I do remember you. You came here last year in the summer. And I seem to remember you upset Irene. Well, what do you want?'
‘I understand my mother is in a home.'
‘Yes, she is. Who told you?'
‘That doesn't matter.'
‘What do you want her for?'
‘I would like her to see her great-granddaughter.'
‘I see.'
‘Could you tell me where she is, please?'
‘She is very poorly.'
‘I would like to see her.'
‘She isn't dying.'
‘I'm sorry?'
‘In case you thought you were going to inherit her savings, I have to tell you she isn't dying.'
Janet knew her mouth had dropped open. ‘I beg your pardon. I came here to get an address, to go and see my mother, not to be accused of trying to get her money.'
‘I just thought I would make it clear to you.'
‘Well, you've certainly done that. So, could I have her address?'
‘She's in the residential home the other side of the village. You can't miss it; it's the old manor house.'
‘I know where that is. Thank you.' Janet turned to walk away.
The vicar's wife put a hand on Janet's arm. ‘I'm sorry if I sounded a little put out, but we've just had a problem with another parishioner whose son went abroad and now he's back just to get his hands on his mother's money. You see, we do have a duty to protect our elderly.'
‘Who would do a thing like that?' asked Janet softly.
‘I couldn't possibly tell you. It was told to me in strict confidence.'
Janet stood and looked at her in amazement. What sort of church woman was she that she was ready to pass on gossip to a virtual stranger? ‘I shouldn't think I would know who you're talking about anyway. It's many years since I lived in this village.'
‘Yes, I know.'
Janet turned and walked away.
‘What was all that about?' asked Paula.
Janet laughed. ‘She wasn't going to tell me where my mother was as she thought I'd only come to take her money.'
‘What?'
‘It seems a man has come back from abroad and he's only interested in his mother's money and all the village are ganging up on him. She wouldn't tell me who it was.' Janet was keeping any thoughts as to his identity to herself.
‘How many men have left the village?' asked Paula.
‘I don't know.'
‘Do you think she was talking about Mark?'
‘Of course not,' said Janet, surprised the same thought was running through both their minds.
‘Why did Mark go and see your mother?'
‘Please, Paula, stop trying to make something out of it. It can't be Mark, his mother's not in a home, we've just seen her and besides, she might be going to live in Canada, and from what I gathered he doesn't have any money worries.' Why had these fears come to her?
‘Is he the only child?'
‘Yes, she lost a little girl many years ago, she was only two, she drowned in the village pond.'
‘That must have been really awful.'
‘I don't really know much about it, except that for years my parents forbade me to go anywhere near the pond.'
‘See, they did love you once.'
‘I suppose so.'
‘That poor woman. It must take a long while to get over something like that.'
‘For ever, I should think.'
‘Did you find out where your mother is?'
‘Yes, it's just the other side of the village. Come on, let's go and see what sort of reception we get there.'
Paula laughed. ‘D'you know, there's more intrigue in this small village than in the whole of London.'
‘I shouldn't think so. It's just that everybody knows everybody else's business, and if they can't find it out, they make it up.'
They drove down the tree-lined drive to the manor house.
‘This looks very grand,' said Paula.
‘It was once. It was owned by the local squire. They used to ride to hounds from here. I would come and watch them go off fox-hunting.'
‘That must have been quite a sight.'
‘Yes, it was. Then once a year they had the hunt ball. As the vicar's daughter I would be asked to go. It was all very smart and proper - long frocks, the lot.'
‘Did you have all the young men fighting after you for a dance?'
‘No, they were all too frightened of the vicar.'
‘Didn't you have any dances?'
‘Only with the old men and I reckon some of them would have been right dirty old men if they'd been given half a chance.'
Paula laughed. ‘See what I mean about these small villages?'
Janet parked the car then removed the bouquet of flowers she'd brought, from the boot, and handed them to Paula. She took Janie from the car and they walked to the front door.
The door was opened by a young woman and they told her who they had come to see.
‘You'd better come in. Rene's in the lounge.'
‘Is there somewhere I can talk to my mother in private?' asked Janet.
The young woman's eyebrows lifted. ‘You're Rene's daughter? Rene Slater's?'
Janet nodded.
‘She's always said she's all alone, didn't have anyone after her husband, the vicar, died.'
‘I haven't seen her in a while.'
‘You'd better come and have a word with Miss Baker first. She's in charge here.'
Miss Baker was a formidable-looking woman in her late fifties, tall and slim, with glasses that made her dark eyes look big and round.
‘This lady says she's Rene Slater's daughter.'
‘I wasn't aware she had any family. What is it about you people? You're not the first to come here to see if your parent is dying,' said Miss Baker.
Janet pulled herself up to her full height. ‘I can assure you I haven't come just to see if she is dying.'
‘We had a young man and his wife come here and poor Mrs Coleman was in a bad state when they left.'
So that's who the vicar's wife had meant. Janet smiled to herself. She remembered Peter Coleman from school, he'd been a bully and she wasn't surprised to hear he hadn't changed. ‘I was told that my mother was in a home and I would like to speak to her in private, if you don't mind,' said Janet softly.
Janie began to whimper and Janet, who was holding her, patted her back and rocked her to and fro. ‘And to show her her great-granddaughter.'
‘I see. You do understand we have to be on our guard? We're responsible for these old people, and some are very vulnerable and confused.'
‘I can understand that, but I can assure you that Mrs Slater is my mother.'
‘Sarah, as lunch has now finished you can take these visitors to the dining room, then go and get Rene.'
Janet squirmed at them calling her mother Rene. She had always been so proud of the name Irene Slater; somehow it had stature and now she was known as Rene.
Janet looked round the dining room. It was sparse but clean. Two large tables dominated the room, with a number of nonmatching chairs pushed under them. In the centre of the tables, which were laid for tea, were small vases with a few sorry-looking flowers in them.
The door opened and her mother stood there, leaning heavily on a stick. She had shrunk and looked frail, she was an old woman but to Janet, standing in front of her mother, the years just fell away. She suddenly felt like a nervous little girl who had done wrong.
Sarah helped her mother to a chair.
‘Mother, this is Janie, your great-granddaughter.' Janet bent down at show her Janie.
Irene Slater looked up at Janet with her faded blue eyes. On recognizing her daughter she straightened up and her face became angry.
‘What do you want?'
‘I don't want anything. I thought as today is Paula's birthday you might like to see her and my granddaughter.'
‘Where's her husband?' She waved her stick at Paula.
‘Is that important?'
‘It is to me.'
Paula smiled at her. ‘We've brought you some flowers.'
‘I don't want flowers.'
Sarah moved forward and took them from Paula. ‘They're very nice.'
‘Sarah, d'you mind if I sit down? I've got a bit of back trouble.'
Sarah shook her head. ‘No, go ahead.'
‘Mother, I can't turn back the clock. We have to look to the future.'
‘And what kind of future do I have? You left me and your father, we didn't leave you. You've always been a selfish girl, only thought of yourself.' She looked up at Sarah. ‘She's never been to see me in years.'
‘I wasn't exactly welcomed last year.'
‘Well, what do you expect after I don't know how many years? Go away and leave me alone. I'm happy here. They look after me so I don't need you. And by the way, if you're after my money you're going to be unlucky. I've left it to the cats' home.'
Paula laughed.
Janet turned and told her to shush.
Janet was beginning to get angry. ‘I don't need your money.'
‘That's what they all say. Take me back to the day room, Sarah.'
Sarah put down the flowers and took hold of her arm as she struggled to stand up. They shuffled from the room but not before Mrs Slater had pushed the flowers to one side with her stick.
Janet sat down. ‘I'm sorry, Paula. That wasn't very successful, was it? And on your birthday as well.'
‘Don't worry. It was my fault for insisting we came here, but I thought she might have been pleased to see us.'
‘Not my mother.'
‘At least you know where you stand now.'
Tears filled Janet's eyes. ‘I hoped that after all this time she would have mellowed a bit.'
Paula put her arm round Janet's shoulder. ‘She doesn't know what she's missing, does she?'
Janet shook her head.
Sarah came back into the room. ‘Miss Baker wants to see you.'
They followed Sarah and as they passed the day room Janet felt a great sense of guilt as she caught sight of little old ladies with shawls round their hunched shoulders sitting dozing in their high-backed chairs. This was her mother's life now.
Miss Baker was looking out of the window when they entered. ‘Please, sit down. I don't know what you expected from your mother.'
‘I just wanted her to see my family.'
‘Well, she wasn't happy about it. Do you live far away?'
‘London. '
‘I see. Would you mind if I took your address?'
‘No, you might need to contact me.'
‘I don't think you should come to see your mother, at least not for a while. We'll talk to her and perhaps in the future she may change her mind and ask to see you.'
Janet gave Miss Baker her address. ‘Is my mother well?'
‘Yes, apart from some arthritis.'
‘Did Mark Scott come to see my mother?'
Miss Baker's head shot up. ‘Is that Mrs Scott's son, who lives in Canada?'
‘Yes.'
‘He did come along with his mother once. Do you know him?'
‘Yes.'
‘A nice young man. Very pleasant. I understand Mrs Scott will soon be going to Canada to live. Your mother will miss her, she often comes to see her.'

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