by Mary Grand
‘Elizabeth is very thin, very sophisticated. I never imagined she’d be like that. I suppose she’s still very young in my head.’
‘I can understand that.’
‘What does she do?’
‘She owns art galleries, one in London, and one in New York.’
‘That’s pretty cool.’
‘It is.’
‘Why didn’t she come and see me, Mum?’
‘She thought it would unsettle you.’
‘It’s amazing that her mother was Deaf as well, isn’t it? Did she tell you why her mother was Deaf? Was she born Deaf, like me?’
‘I have no idea. It’s good that she can sign, though.’
Bethan pursed her lips. ‘You know, I think I will go and talk to her. I’m nearly eighteen. I’m not a child. Where’s Lowri?’
‘Out there with Mark.’
‘Good.’
‘Look, Bethan. I know you want to talk to her, but if you have any worries, want to get away, tell me. I’m here to protect you.’
‘OK, Mum. Well, I’d better change. Wait for me, though, Mum won’t you? Don’t go down without me.’
‘I’ll wait outside the door.’
Eventually Bethan came out. In her white dress, make up and brushed hair, she looked lovely.
‘OK?’
‘Of course. Come on.’
They went down together, out into the garden and went to sit with Elizabeth and Lloyd. Bethan seemed pleased to sit back and not talk.
‘Elizabeth, tell me about your work, where you live,’ asked Catrin, feeling like she was conducting an interview.
‘Yes, tell us about New York,’ said Lloyd.
Elizabeth ignored him. She turned to Bethan. ‘I live in, um, L-o-n-d-o-n. I have two-’ she looked at Catrin. ‘How do I sign ‘art galleries’?’
Catrin showed her, but said, ‘If you don’t know a sign, Bethan may be able to lip read you. She’s also wearing her hearing aids. Just speak clearly, normally.’
Elizabeth turned back to Bethan. ‘Sorry, I haven’t signed much for years. It’ll come back, I hope. There are words I don’t know. I have two art galleries.’
‘You paint?’ asked Bethan.
‘No, I studied history of art. My mother and father were quite comfortable and got me started.’
‘They’re rich?’
‘Yes. My father bought my first gallery. It’s really hard work, but I love it. You played the flute very well. I’m useless at music.’
Bethan smiled shyly. ‘Thank you. I play the flute and the piano. I really love composition more than performing.’
‘She’s a great performer, though. She might make it big in America,’ said Lloyd. ‘She has an audition with Zac Freestone on Saturday. I arranged it. It’s a fantastic break.’
‘Gosh, that’s incredible,’ said Elizabeth. ‘Are you excited, Bethan?’
Bethan grinned, but then looked at Catrin. Catrin knew what had happened. Although Elizabeth had intended to sign ‘excited’, the sign for which should be two hands held clawed, rubbing up and down her chest, she had used the sign for ‘hungry’, rubbing her stomach.
Elizabeth saw them look at each other, and interrupted. ‘Did I do something wrong?’
‘You just signed ‘hungry’ instead of ‘excited’. It’s OK. Bethan knew what you meant.’
‘Oh, how embarrassing. I’m sorry.’
‘It’s OK. Bethan gets used to people making mistakes. They do it all the time.’
‘Thank you,’ said Elizabeth, but she turned to Bethan, ‘I’m sorry.’
‘It’s OK.’ Bethan glanced over at Catrin, then turned to Elizabeth. ‘Your mother was Deaf. Was she born Deaf? Do they know what caused it?’
Elizabeth sat forward. ‘My mother had German Measles when she was five. She became Deaf as a result of that.’
Catrin saw the look of disappointment on Bethan’s face, and interrupted. ‘We’ve never known why Bethan was born Deaf. I think she was hoping that maybe that you could have helped.’
Elizabeth shook her head. ‘No, I’m sorry. As I say, my Mum lost her hearing because of having German Measles.’
At that moment Lowri and Mark joined them.
‘Lowri, this is Elizabeth,’ Catrin said, starting to introduce them. Then she stopped and wondered what title or description she should give for Elizabeth. She couldn’t bring herself to say mother, but, on the other hand, birth mother sounded a bit official. Elizabeth saved the situation by leaning forward and saying,
‘Hi, Lowri. So you are Bethan’s sister?’
Catrin envied Elizabeth’s confidence. How could anyone appear so calm and in control?
‘Did you grow up in London?’ asked Bethan.
‘My parents sent me over to boarding school.’
Catrin looked over at Bethan. ‘Boarding school: you know, where you stay by the week or term.’
Bethan scowled at her. ‘I know what boarding school is, Mum,’ she replied, irritably.
Catrin cringed. Explaining the odd expression Bethan might not understand was a habit she had got into over the years, but she should have realised it would embarrass Bethan now. She sat back. She was now in that familiar but difficult position of having to be some kind of invisible support for Bethan.
She was surprised when Lloyd said, ‘Of course, Aled was outstanding in school. We had to send him to independent school. The state schools just couldn’t cope with him.’
‘Did you go away to school as well, then?’ Elizabeth asked Catrin.
Lloyd laughed. ‘Good God, no. That would have been a complete waste of time and money.’
Catrin felt herself blushing, and looked down.
‘What do you do, Catrin?’ Elizabeth asked.
Catrin, feeling overwhelmed, mumbled, ‘Nothing much.’
‘So, Elizabeth, tell Bethan about your art galleries. You must lead an incredible life between London and New York,’ said Lloyd.
‘There are very good shops,’ Elizabeth said to Bethan.
Bethan grinned. ‘Better than Asda, Mum.’
Lloyd laughed. ‘Catrin wouldn’t know what to buy in a decent shop.’
Catrin tried to smile, but her mouth was trembling.
‘Where do you buy your clothes?’ Bethan asked Elizabeth.
‘I like Stella McCartney,’ Elizabeth said. For the name, she just spoke.
Bethan frowned at her. Lowri said, ‘If you finger spell the whole word it would help.’
‘Oh, of course’ said Elizabeth. She spelled out Stella McCartney’s name. Bethan replied, ‘Wow, I love her clothes. I have never met someone who actually wears them.’
‘You should,’ said Elizabeth. ‘You would look good in them.’
‘What are your galleries like?’
Elizabeth took out her phone, the latest iphone.
‘I have photographs of them. Would you like to see them?’
Bethan moved her chair so as to sit next to Elizabeth to look at the photographs.
‘Wow, is that Victoria Beckman?’
‘Yes.’
‘That’s amazing.’
Catrin stood up. ‘I need a drink. Bethan, do you want one?’
Bethan shook her head, and went back to talking to Elizabeth.
Catrin, close to tears, walked back to the kitchen. There she found Anwen and David.
‘Catrin, who’s the posh woman over with you all? Looks a bit out of place here,’ said Anwen.
Catrin looked at David. ‘That’s Elizabeth, Bethan’s birth mother.’
‘Oh, my God. Bethan is adopted?’ said Anwen. ‘Well, I can see the likeness. Do they get on?’
‘This is the first time they’ve met.’
‘Oh, God. What a time to do it. How is it going?’
‘They’re all getting on very well.’
‘She looks very well off. Maybe she’s come to give Bethan some money?’
‘I don’t think she even meant to meet Bethan.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘Hang on,’ interrupted David. ‘Let me catch up. I thought Bethan’s mother was dead?’
‘Dad told us she was–’
‘But–’
‘David, he thought it was for the best.’
‘And she turned up today?’
‘She came to say goodbye to Aled. She says she didn’t mean to meet Bethan, just wanted to see her, see that she was well.’
‘But she must have known she would be here?’
‘I think she thought she could pass unnoticed.’
‘She’s not going to go unnoticed anywhere, is she? Look at her: she’s gorgeous, and those clothes–’ said Anwen. She looked at Catrin. ‘Are you alright about all this?’
‘I suppose so.’
‘Does Gareth know?’ asked David.
‘I can’t get hold of him. We haven’t spoken since he left the meal.’
‘He doesn’t know Elizabeth is here?’
‘No, but what am I meant to do?’
‘Bethan seems to be getting on alright. That woman can sign then?’ said Anwen, glancing out of the window.
Catrin nodded. ‘I think she can do everything. Beautiful, rich, you know, she owns art galleries and things.’
‘Your father would be impressed by that.’
‘Yes, and so is Bethan.’
Anwen walked over and put her arms around Catrin. ‘Hey, it’ll be alright, you know. It’s natural that Bethan should be excited seeing her birth Mum. It doesn’t mean she loves you any less.’
‘I know that–’
‘You must believe it deep down, Catrin.’
Catrin frowned. ‘I don’t know what will happen. Elizabeth says that no-one in London knows about Bethan. She never told her parents or anyone. Oh dear. I don’t want Bethan to get hurt.’
‘What did you make of her?’
‘She seems a bit hard, defensive.’
‘She’s been through a lot on her own,’ said David. He looked at Catrin. ‘She’s been keeping a secret for a long time. It can be very lonely.’
Catrin looked away. ‘Look, I’ve got a stinking headache. I think I’ll go and have a break upstairs, alright?’
‘Of course.’
Catrin went upstairs, with Safi quietly following her. There was a large window that looked over the back garden, and she looked down on everyone, feeling strangely detached. They were all chatting. Her father was smiling, pouring more wine for Elizabeth. She felt horribly redundant, but also very worried about what was going to happen.
Her phone beeped. She read the text message.
‘Hope the service went OK. Gareth.’
Catrin suddenly felt really angry. Why was he never here when she needed him? She picked up her phone and sent a text, ‘Something really important has happened. Ring me ASAP.’
Chapter Twenty
Elizabeth left The Dragon House early evening. She felt so full emotion: to think that she had actually met her daughter. They had talked, and got on. Her beautiful daughter who she’d instantly felt a bond with. They’d even laughed at some of the same things. She had never imagined they would have anything in common. But, most of all, she had never expected to feel anything as strongly as this. It was like falling in love. Her emotions were whizzing around. The love hurt her deep down, stabbed at her heart. She hadn’t expected this. She had just agreed to spend tomorrow with Bethan, to take her shopping. Bethan was young, naive, easily impressed; she realised that. But then she had had a sheltered life: look at the way Catrin dressed and behaved. For God’s sake, didn’t the woman have any pride? Bethan deserved to be spoilt, bought nice things. Still, it was all moving so fast. This morning she had had no intention of even speaking to Bethan. But it was too late for regrets. Even if she was to just get in the car and escape to London, she couldn’t undo today, pretend it had never happened.
Elizabeth arrived back at the bungalow. She wanted to get to her room quickly. She didn’t feel like making polite talk. However, Angela was in the kitchen and rushed out to greet her.
‘Hi. Would you like a drink?’
‘No thank you. I think I’ll go and lie down.’
‘I saw you at the service?’ Angela made the statement a rather open-ended question.
‘Mm.’
‘Did you go down to the house as well?’
‘Mmm.’
‘So, do you know the family?’
Elizabeth stared at Angela. The woman looked so normal, so sane. Didn’t she realise the chaos that was going on inside Elizabeth? It was so hard, always trying to look cool and together.
‘I have met them, yes.’
‘I may be completely wrong here, but is it anything to do with Bethan?’
Elizabeth looked at Angela. She nodded. Her throat felt tight with tears. She couldn’t speak.
‘The likeness, you know, is uncanny.’
Elizabeth nodded again. ‘The thing is, you see, well, I am her mother.’ She got the words out, and then she started to cry, huge, heart-wrenching sobs.
‘Hey, come and sit down,’ said Angela, guiding Elizabeth into the living room.
‘I’m so sorry. The thing is we all thought you were, um–’
‘Dead. Yes, you all thought that, didn’t you? That’s what they told everyone: they said I was dead.’ Elizabeth started to cry again.
‘I’m so sorry.’
‘You don’t seem as shocked as everyone else.’
‘To be honest I’ve never trusted my brother-in-law. When Isabel told me what he’d said, I wondered.’
‘So you guessed it was Lloyd telling the lie?’
‘Well, it was, wasn’t it?’
‘Yes.’
‘I thought so. So, how did you meet Aled?’
‘I went over to New York for three months to work in my Dad’s firm. He was an architect, and his firm was associated with Lloyd’s. Aled was there at the same time. We dated a few times. I was a very naive nineteen year old, and very flattered that this handsome older man wanted to date me.’
‘He was very good-looking and charming.’
‘Exactly, I didn’t realise until I came back after Christmas that I was pregnant. In fact, I think I was about six months before I realised.’
‘And your parents?’
‘My parents were living in New York. I had a flat here, and I was going to uni in September.’
‘But surely you told them?’
‘No. I couldn’t. You see, to them I was this perfect child. They would never have coped with me being pregnant and not married.’
‘Were they religious?
‘Yes, very religious. They had everything invested in me. I came here, you know, the night Aled died. I knew he’d come back here and someone told me about the party. I thought he might marry me, and then, you see, my parents wouldn’t have minded.’
‘You loved him?’
‘I don’t know. I don’t think so, but he had seemed very charming and that. I thought, maybe, he would whisk me off my feet and marry me.’
‘And you’d live happily ever after?’
‘Exactly.’
‘And what did he say?’
Elizabeth shook her head. ‘It didn’t go that way. In the hospital, before I knew he was dead, I knew we wouldn’t be getting married. I decided then that I would have the baby adopted.’
‘You didn’t think, then, to talk to your parents?’
‘No, and to be honest I wanted to go to university. I was very young. I wasn’t ready to be a mother. I know you must think that’s terrible, but it was how I felt.’
‘And were you on your own through all this?’
‘My aunt came and, of course, Lloyd came and talked to me. He was the one who suggested Catrin and Gareth adopt Bethan.’
‘You had Bethan about two weeks after Aled died, didn’t you?’
‘That’s right.’ Elizabeth looked up for the first time. ‘She was beautiful.’ As she said the words, she started to cry again, hard hot sobs. She opened her handbag with sha
king hands, and took out a photograph, which she handed to Angela. It was the first time she had ever shown it to anyone. It was a small Polaroid photograph, of a young woman holding a tiny baby with a mop of black hair.
‘There was another mother in the bed next to me. Her husband brought in a Polaroid camera, and he took the picture for me.’
Angela looked at the photograph, and handed it back.
‘I remember the feeling of holding her next to my cheek: so warm and soft. The smell, I can still remember the smell of her. And touching her tiny fingers; her little arms moving around; so vulnerable; her eyes shut tight. Then I remember her suddenly opening her eyes, deep brown eyes. She looked at me so intently, as if soaking in every detail of my face.’
Elizabeth felt tears on her cheeks. She brushed them away. They were hot, and seemed to burn her cheeks. Her throat tightened; it hurt. She put her hands on her throat to try and ease the pain, and gulped in air.
She felt Angela’s hand, warm and comforting, on hers.
‘I did love her. I did. But I just couldn’t keep her. You do understand, don’t you?’
Angela nodded. She was close to tears as well. ‘I do.’
Elizabeth nodded. ‘The social worker tried to talk me out of it, to at least get me to wait, but I talked to my aunt. She said the baby would be much better off with two parents and, to think of it not as giving up my baby, but rather handing her to people who I knew would cherish her. She told me I would forget and move on.’
‘Things aren’t always as easy as that.’
‘No, but I still believe I did the right thing for Bethan and me. Catrin and Gareth sounded a nice couple, and the social worker went to see them, check them out. It being family made it much more straightforward. I thought that was better for Bethan.’
‘You were going to university?’
‘I had my place. I really wanted to go, you know. I know it sounds selfish, but I was going to do Art History. I loved it. My dream had always been to have my own gallery, buy paintings for people. My parents would invest in that. It was all mapped out.’
Elizabeth put the photograph back in her handbag. Angela handed her a tissue. She wiped her eyes, took a deep breath, and was suddenly embarrassed at her outburst.
‘I’m sorry. I don’t know what came over me.’
‘I think you’ve been holding all that in for a long time.’