The Daughter

by Michelle Frances

  ‘I’ve been thinking . . . maybe we could talk about starting a family?’

  She stopped still. Gobsmacked. ‘A baby?’

  ‘Yes.’ He took in her reaction. Smiled tentatively. ‘Is that so bad?’

  ‘No . . . I mean . . . it just took me by surprise, that’s all.’

  ‘Why?’

  Now he said it like that, calmly, rationally, she didn’t really know. ‘Well, you’re the same age as me . . . more or less.’

  ‘I’m thirty-six. About time I started a family.’

  Kate squeezed her eyes shut for a moment, tried to make her brain catch up, to get past the shock. She felt as if she’d been caught napping. Why wouldn’t Tim want children? She’d always thought she’d had hers and had been too wrapped up in everything to even think about his situation.

  ‘It’s been difficult, knowing when to bring it up,’ said Tim. ‘When we were first going out, it’s not the sort of thing you do. “Fancy going to the cinema, and by the way, do you want kids with your popcorn?” And then, after Becky, you and me got waylaid a bit.’ He held a hand up. ‘Completely understandable. But my feelings haven’t changed, and it would be wrong to go on keeping this to myself. I thought you’d rumbled me actually, the other day. When you came back from your first night at college.’ She was staring at him blankly. ‘I was checking my finances. In case you were worried. I can cover us both if you wanted to take a bit of time off.’

  Kate didn’t know what to say. A baby. Good God, a baby . . .

  ‘It’s a big thing.’

  ‘Yep. I know.’

  ‘Children are . . . they’re all consuming. Take over your whole life.’

  ‘And?’

  ‘Well, I’m quite full on right now.’

  He was quiet for a moment. ‘You mean Becky’s story.’

  ‘It’s important to me.’

  ‘And a child is important to me.’

  But why now? she thought, and immediately knew the answer. She was only just the right side of forty. ‘Can I have some time?’

  ‘Course!’ Sensing her reluctance to continue the conversation, he was quick to reassure her.

  They looked at each other, not sure what to say next. The dance teachers were calling out some instructions and they both made a show of paying attention.

  ‘It’s just a surprise, that’s all,’ said Kate in his ear as they started dancing again.

  ‘It’s OK. I should have given you more warning.’

  He held her, and they were both grateful that the tension had eased. It was a temporary reprieve, that much they were both aware of as they spun around.

  A baby, thought Kate again. She couldn’t help wondering what would happen if she said no.

  TWENTY-NINE

  2008

  Kate was avoiding her boss. She kept to the back of the restaurant where she found endless small jobs to make herself look busy: tidying the shelf of napkins, wiping down the china dishes that held the selection of Thai dipping sauces that they served with the complimentary appetizers.

  Rick knew she was avoiding him, and Kate could tell this irritated him by the way he kept glancing over, with his sunburnt face from the weekend’s unexpected heatwave, wanting to interrupt, but unable to while she was so busily employed. Actually, what was really annoying him was the fact that at work the day before she had asked to speak to him privately. He’d smiled knowingly and taken her to his office, a tiny room downstairs, crammed with files, industrial-sized boxes of Thai crackers and a desk behind which he had a swivel chair.

  As he’d closed the door, his hand had run across her shoulder blades and down her back. She’d stiffened and stepped aside, turning to face him. Then she’d explained that she no longer wanted to have sex with him; that a relationship wasn’t what she was really looking for at that moment. In truth, it was less a relationship, more a quick, heated fumble across the desk, followed by a can of warm Coke while he talked at her for the last ten minutes of her break about the difficulties of running a restaurant. At thirty, he was only three years older than her, but acted as if he’d already hit late middle age and would moan and gripe in a way that drained her.

  Rick had not taken the news well. Not wanting to jeopardize her employment, she avoided telling him the sex and the rare male company was not worth the flat, depressing feeling she was left with afterwards. Instead, she reassured him it was her, not him, and said hadn’t they had fun over the last month, hadn’t it been naughty and weren’t they risqué.

  Rick was now behaving like a child whose sweeties had been taken away. He’d called her a tease and then followed her around with his dark, brooding eyebrows and his peeling nose, and Kate was deeply regretting ever getting involved with him in the first place. In fact, she wasn’t really sure why she had, except it had been nice to be flattered for once, to have a man take an interest in her. It had also been a practical arrangement, as it had not impacted on her home life at all.

  She stood up from putting all the clean dishes away in the cupboard and looked out across the restaurant. It was a reasonably nice place, set in an exclusive village just five miles from where she lived. Her three full tables were still eating lunch and her colleague, Kannika, had just taken an order for drinks from another group. She saw Rick clock her lack of activity and was about to find herself another job when the front door opened and in came two women. Kate’s heart sank as she recognized one of them as Julia Cromwell. Becky had mentioned she lived in the village.

  Kate had seen Julia briefly at various school events: assemblies where Julia had sat tight-lipped as Becky had been awarded certificates for exceptional grades in her end-of-term exams or had a solo in the Christmas concert. Kate had also noticed how Julia had refused to clap as Becky crossed the finishing line on sports day, two places ahead of Violet, Julia’s daughter.

  Kate moved over to Kannika and asked if she wouldn’t mind waiting on Julia’s table. Sympathetic to what was clearly something personal, Kannika was just agreeing when Ricky sidled up to them.

  ‘Kate, I think you should do it. You’ve spent long enough scuttling around at the back here.’

  Kate reminded herself he was wounded. ‘I’d rather not,’ she said calmly. ‘If it’s all the same to you.’

  ‘We can’t pick and choose our customers.’

  ‘I’m not. I just don’t particularly get on with that lady, that’s all.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘Pardon?’

  ‘Why don’t you get on with her?’ Arms folded across his mini-paunch, Rick was enjoying her discomfort.

  She wasn’t going to explain to him how Julia had treated her like a skivvy, had taken a deep and personal dislike to both her and Becky. It was none of his business.

  ‘This is a restaurant, Kate. You are a waitress. It is your job to wait on the people who come in here, whether you like it or not.’

  ‘I really don’t mind—’ started up Kannika.

  ‘Kate’s got it,’ said Rick sharply.

  Kate glared at him. Whatever had possessed her to fall for this small-minded, power-hungry lobster. She half considered telling him where to stick it but she couldn’t afford to get fired. Roll on the end of her shift. It was Becky’s thirteenth birthday and she was going shopping to get her a present.

  Picking up a serving pad, Kate made her way over to the table where Julia was sitting with her friend.

  She plastered on a smile. ‘Good afternoon. Would you like something to drink?’

  Julia looked around and a curl formed at the edge of her lips. ‘Well, well.’

  Kate stood as Julia looked her up and down, taking in her red-and-gold Thai-style outfit. For the first time, Kate felt as if she was in fancy dress.

  ‘I had no idea,’ said Julia.

  ‘Do you two know each other?’ asked Julia’s friend.

  ‘We do . . .’ said Julia. ‘Our daughters go to the same school.’

  Kate caught the surprised flicker in the other woman’s eyes and did her bes
t to ignore it.

  ‘In fact, they’re in the same class,’ declared Julia.

  ‘Oh, how nice,’ exclaimed her companion. ‘Friends?’

  ‘Besties,’ said Julia, smiling at Kate. Her companion lifted an eyebrow as she caught the subtle sarcasm.

  ‘Drinks, ladies?’ repeated Kate.

  ‘I’ll have a sparkling mineral water,’ said Julia’s friend.

  ‘Me too,’ said Julia.

  Kate went to walk away when—

  ‘Oh, actually, make that a Diet Coke,’ said Julia.

  ‘Sure,’ said Kate, going to the fridge.

  ‘Changed my mind. I’ll stick with the water.’

  Kate froze. Was Julia winding her up? She glanced back over her shoulder but there was no smirk on Julia’s face, in fact she wasn’t even looking her way, she was deep in conversation with her friend. As Kate moved off, she heard Julia speak again, her voice lowered.

  ‘Her child’s on a scholarship. Probably felt sorry for her. She’ll be some quota-filler, bound to be. They need to show they’re helping out the lower end of society but really the whole thing is tokenistic. I mean, look at the mother. Daughter’s not got much hope of a future, not with that sort of millstone around her neck.’

  Kate froze, her face burning. She daren’t look around; tears were pricking at her eyes, and that woman . . . she couldn’t let Julia see her face. She felt mown down, sliced in half by Julia’s words, and the worst bit was Kate found herself questioning the truth in them. She felt a sudden urge to run, and thought about leaving her shift there and then, but she saw Rick watching her from across the restaurant and remembered she was going shopping for a gift later, a gift she wouldn’t be able to afford if she lost her job. She stumbled on, willing the lunch shift to be over.

  At the end, when she went to clear the table, she found the final insult. Julia had left no tip.

  Kate was still subdued when she got to the shopping centre. Julia’s words had reverberated round and round in her head the entire bus trip. She hurried to the phone shop, hoping that shopping for Becky’s present would distract her. As she went in, she was faced with a display, right in the middle of the shop floor, of the new Apple iPhone. It had become a phenomenon since it had been released at the end of last year, but was laughably expensive.

  Kate walked past the display to some cheaper phones, near the back. She picked one up. It was all right; it made calls. She glanced back over her shoulder at the shining touchscreen of the iPhone. It could actually connect to the Internet! She remembered her careful savings; the ten pounds a month she’d put away for Becky’s university fees had grown a bit over the years. There were some girls there in the shop, dressed in the uniform from Becky’s school. They were picking up the phones and playing with them. A salesman was hovering attentively, as one of the girls negotiated a purchase. Then Kate saw who it was: Julia’s daughter, Violet. She watched as Violet got her purse out of her bag and pulled out several twenty-pound notes. The phone was put into a plastic bag while Violet’s friends gathered round, a captive audience. Then Kate watched as they left the shop, arms linked, heads held high, oblivious to anything other than their own self-absorbed amusement.

  Kate sighed. She looked again at the iPhone stand, but it was impossible. The university money was untouchable, that was what she’d always promised herself. It represented Becky’s future, a future that was going to be very different to her own.

  No, she just couldn’t afford an iPhone. If some people tipped when they were given good service then maybe things might be different, she thought darkly, but pushed those thoughts aside and bought a simpler model.

  ‘Oh, Mum, I love it!’ exclaimed Becky, throwing her arms around Kate’s neck.

  ‘Happy Birthday, Becky,’ said Kate, her voice muffled under the hug.

  She’d watched carefully for a shadow of disappointment in Becky’s eyes as she opened her gift, and had found none, but still couldn’t help thinking Julia Cromwell had ruined her daughter’s birthday. A ridiculous thought, she knew, but ever since lunchtime, a cloud had settled over Kate that she just couldn’t shift.

  She served up the tea – Becky’s favourite. Her daughter grinned as the plate was set in front of her.

  ‘I love you, Mum. And not just because of the chips.’

  Kate smiled as they got stuck into their burgers and fries. ‘Good day at school?’

  ‘Yeah. Got a bit of homework though. Algebra. I’m a bit stuck . . .’ Becky looked up at her mother and Kate felt herself tense.

  ‘Not sure I’ll be any good to you.’

  In fact, Becky was learning stuff that Kate found was way beyond her own ability. Not just in maths, but in other subjects too. It embarrassed her that she couldn’t keep up, couldn’t help her daughter. Kate saw Becky’s crestfallen face and her stomach twisted. She forced a bright tone. ‘What about one of your friends at school? Claire?’ Kate glanced across at the box on the table. ‘You can phone her!’

  Even as she said it, she felt as if she was fobbing Becky off, but her daughter knew better than to push and so she nodded and said she’d call Claire after tea.

  Later that night, after Becky had gone to bed, Kate snuck a look in Becky’s schoolbag. She pulled out the maths exercise book, feeling herself getting more despondent and fuller of self-loathing as she flicked through. The homework had been done but she didn’t understand any of it.

  Julia was right, thought Kate.

  She’d never better herself.

  Never amount to much.

  What was she?

  She was a millstone.

  THIRTY

  2018

  Kate could hear the murmuring and chattering of voices coming from Grace’s living room. ‘How many have come?’ she whispered.

  ‘Everyone,’ said Grace.

  Kate’s eyes widened. ‘Seriously?’

  ‘Yes. They’ve all got your letter and are intrigued. They want to hear what you have to say.’ Grace handed her the mug of tea she’d been making. ‘Are you ready?’

  Not really, thought Kate, and then mentally kicked herself. If she was going to do this, there was no point in whimpering her way through it. She stood up straight. ‘Lead the way.’

  Grace looked at her. She opened a kitchen cupboard, grabbed a bottle of rum, and put a slug in Kate’s tea.

  ‘Whoa!’ said Kate, but she picked up the mug and took a sip. She pulled a face, for it tasted disgusting, although a slow warmth was already cascading through her body. ‘How’s Arnie, by the way?’

  ‘We’ve had some good news. A donor’s been found and it’s a nine-out-of-ten match.’

  ‘Wow. Wow?’ checked Kate. It sounded good, but she was no expert.

  ‘It’s good,’ affirmed Grace. ‘Just one more session of chemo and then we’ll be looking at a transplant around July.’

  ‘That’s great!’

  ‘It is. But it’s a long road still. I know it’s a good thing – hopefully –’ Grace automatically touched the top of the wooden table – ‘but part of me’s dreading it. The normal chemo’s bad enough but this one will really take it out of him.’ She took a deep breath. ‘They’ve warned me what to expect.’

  ‘But when the transplant works . . .’

  ‘Yes, I know. It’ll all be over-ish. Imagine! You know, the thing that means the most to me,’ said Grace, ‘isn’t winning some court case against the farm – although it’s important that this gets out there for everyone to hear – it’s finding out the truth. Arnie’s so ill. And we’re not out of the woods yet.’ Her voice caught, but she carried on. ‘Everything he’s been through and, so far, no one’s interested in why. We know what we suspect – why he’s ill – but I feel like no one’s being honest with me. Not only that, there’s a deliberate desire to keep the truth away from me. And that’s all I really want, Kate. I want to know the truth.’

  Kate thought of Becky. How she didn’t fully understand her accident. It was a terrible thing, not knowing exactly what
had been done to your child.

  Grace took her arm. ‘Come on, let’s not keep them waiting any longer.’ She led the way and as they entered, the room hushed. All eyes were on Kate and she noticed every seat was taken. A space had been left in front of the fireplace. The space was for her.

  She went to face the gathering.

  ‘Thank you everyone,’ she started, ‘for taking the time to come to this meeting.’ She paused. Expectant faces. She took another mouthful of rum tea. Somehow this was harder than when she’d stood up at the AGM. Then, it had just been about her and Becky. Now, she was in the midst of a whole group of people who were suffering in one way or another, and she was mindful of their personal anguish. Sunita, the young mum who’d had breast cancer, was directly in front of her on Grace’s blue armchair. She had had a mastectomy and was, so far, in the clear. Sunita gave her an encouraging smile.

  ‘You know who I am,’ continued Kate, ‘and how I got to know you through my daughter. You also know why I’m here and why I’ve asked you to come tonight. And I know you’ve also talked amongst yourselves about the reason I believe there’s so much illness in this community. In my letter, I said that I think each of you deserves financial compensation for the trauma and everything that’s gone with that, and I am here to ask if you would like me to help you get it.’

  ‘Sorry to state the obvious, love, but you don’t look like no lawyer.’

  It was Ian who had spoken. He was a retired farm worker who’d been diagnosed with prostate cancer four years ago – almost immediately after he’d stopped working. He’d lived in his cottage with his wife Hazel for four decades. They’d originally wanted to sell up and spend their retirement in Italy, but the illness had prevented the move at first and now they were too anxious to go in case anything else happened and they needed urgent medical care.

  Kate smoothed the fabric of her jeans self-consciously. ‘I’m not, not officially . . . but I’m training. At night school. It’s a Civil Litigation course. And I’ve been researching . . .’ She pulled a thick pile of files out of her bag and held them up. ‘I think we can build a case.’