by Mary Grand
‘Oh. I got you a skinny cappuccino. It’s what you wanted yesterday.’
‘I don’t fancy it today.’
‘Oh, well. Go and get something else.’
She saw Bethan was waiting.
‘What’s wrong?’
‘It’s not that. Mum would normally pay.’
‘Oh, right.’
‘It doesn’t matter. I’ve got money. Are you having something to eat?’ Bethan asked.
‘God, no.’
‘Really?’
‘You can.’
‘Oh, no. I’m fine.’
They sat with their drinks. Elizabeth was aware of people looking at Bethan and her signing to each other. She had noticed it the day before in Swansea. It was disconcerting. She didn’t like being stared at.
‘It feels weird being away from Mum,’ said Bethan. Again, Elizabeth was struck by how young she sounded. It was very confusing: one minute she was so grown up, the next so needy.
‘You go to university in September. You have to get used to it.’
‘I know, but my parents are saying I have to live at home. I suppose for you, going to boarding school, it was normal. How old were you when you went?’ asked Bethan.
‘About eight.’
‘That’s so young. Where were your parents?’
‘My parents lived in New York, but Mum was from London. It’s why I was sent to school there.’
‘So when did you see them?’
‘The summer, sometimes Christmas. I had an aunt in Cardiff.’
‘Didn’t you mind?’
‘It was OK. I had lots of friends, and a lot of their parents were abroad. We had loads of clubs and things to do.’
‘And on your birthday?’
‘The school would let you choose. My parents paid. We went dry slope skiing. Shows and things. It was great.’
‘That’s amazing. Lowri and I usually had swimming parties, and then we went into the café at the leisure centre for burger and chips. When we were older, I would take a few friends to the cinema and then to Pizza Express after. That kind of thing.’
‘You had all your music.’
‘Oh, yes. Loads of time spent practising, and then there were lessons and exams. I used to get really nervous, though, and there were all the extra speech lessons.’
‘That must have been tiring. Did your parents make you work hard at school?’
‘Not really. They didn’t mind what we did as long as we were happy. The only pressure was from Grandad. He was paying a lot of money for the extra tuition. He always looked so uptight at concerts, always looked at my marks for exams and things.’
‘My parents were strict. They were paying a lot of money. They wanted me to be very good.’
Elizabeth saw the look of surprise on Bethan’s face. They had experienced very different upbringings. Elizabeth remembered it was one of the things she and Aled had talked about. It was something they had had in common. So few people went to boarding school that it was a relief sometimes to meet someone else who had. She had had the impression, though, that she had enjoyed it more than Aled, although he had been far more successful. She had wondered why he had never been head boy. He had sounded the sort who would. Looking over at Bethan, Elizabeth could see very little of her father in her, and she was pleased about that.
Catrin arrived back in Cardiff just after lunch. It felt very strange to be back in the city. Gower seemed like another planet, and all the things that had happened some kind of dream. She went home first. As she drove up to the house, Gareth’s car wasn’t there: obviously he was at work. She went into the silent hallway.
‘Gareth,’ she shouted, but there was no answer. She walked down to the neat modern kitchen at the back of the house. On the work top were two used dinner plates, two wine glasses, an empty bottle of wine and the rubbish from various takeaways. She frowned and automatically started to tidy up. Looking in the fridge, she noticed nothing, including the lasagne she had left, had been touched. She guessed Gareth had been living on take away. Catrin went upstairs, tidied the bed, put the dirty washing in the basket and went back downstairs. So what was she to do now? She tried his mobile: no answer. Then she thought of Jill, his sister. Gareth wasn’t that close to his sister. They seemed silently to compete with each other as to who was busiest, her as a vicar, or him as a doctor. As a result, neither seemed to have the time to see each other. Catrin didn’t even have Jill’s number on her mobile, but it was stored on the house phone. She tried it.
Gareth’s sister answered. ‘St Sebastian’s vicarage.’
‘Hi Jill, its Catrin.’
‘Oh, hi. How are you?’
‘I’m OK. I’m just checking you’re all well?’
‘We’re fine. Stressed from too much work but, apart from that, all OK.’
‘Oh good.’ Catrin paused. She wanted to ring off now, but realised that would be rather abrupt.
‘I’ve just come back from Gower. We’re sorting The Dragon House out.’
‘Oh, that must be a big job.’
‘Mm.’
‘So, how’s my brother?’
‘Actually, I’m trying to track him down.’
‘He’ll be at work, won’t he?’ Catrin could hear a patient, slight condescension in her sister in law’s voice.
‘He could be. I was just checking if you’d heard from him.’
‘No. Is everything alright?’ Jill asked again.
‘Yes, fine. I had a strange message from him. That’s all.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘Oh, it’s nothing. Look, forget I rang, Jill. I’ll go into the surgery. I’m sure he’ll be there.’
‘OK, but you will phone me if there is anything wrong, won’t you?’
‘Of course. Right, I’d better go.’
Catrin put the telephone down, wishing she had never made the call. She tried Gareth again on his mobile. No reply. Maybe he was seeing a patient?
Catrin drove to the surgery and parked in the street outside. She could see people entering and leaving. It was always busy, and this was prime time for the elderly and people with young children. She went to the desk, and cringed. Oh, no, it had to be her.
‘Morning, Jasmine,’ she said, trying to sound casual.
‘Good morning, Catrin. How are you? I hope you found your husband the other day. These men, eh? Have to keep them on a tight leash.’
Catrin tried to laugh. ‘I just wanted to see Gareth. Maybe when he’s finished with his patient?’
‘But he’s not in this morning. He said he’d be in about three to do paper work, I think.’
Catrin cursed herself for not checking for his car in the car park: now she looked really stupid.
‘Oh, right.’
‘I can try to phone Gareth’s mobile for you,’ offered Jasmine.
Catrin was feeling very humiliated.
‘No, don’t worry. I can do that. I’ve been to the Gower to see my Dad,’ she added, as if that somehow explained things.
‘Lovely on a day like this,’ said Jasmine.
‘Right,’ Catrin cringed. She was aware of people tutting behind her, the phones ringing. ‘I’d better go. Sorry to bother you. Thanks.’
As quickly as she could manage, she manoeuvred her way through the pushchairs and left the building. Catrin quailed at the embarrassment of confessing to Jasmine that she had no idea where her husband was, and decided that it would be best simply to go back to the house.
Catrin waited there until after three in the afternoon. She kept phoning Gareth, but got no reply. In the end, she summoned up all her courage and rang the surgery, praying that Jasmine didn’t answer. Her prayers were not answered.
‘Hello again, Catrin. Still trying to track down Gareth?’
‘Well, yes,’ she had to confess. ‘I assumed he’d be there now.’
‘We thought so too. He hasn’t got a patient list this afternoon. He did say he’d be in to do paper work but, the thing is, he hasn’t arrived.
He may be up at the hospital, though, now I think about it.’
‘Why’s that?’
‘Well, he’s doing this research–’
‘Of course. I know about that,’ Catrin added, feeling foolish.
‘It’s a shame Carol isn’t in. She’d be able to tell you.’
Catrin gritted her teeth. ‘Well, I think I’ll have to wait and see. Sorry to have been such a nuisance.’
‘That’s OK. Hope you track him down. I don’t know, these husbands. We need to keep them on a tight leash, don’t we?’ joked Jasmine again. This was obviously a favourite line of hers.
Catrin put the phone down quickly, glad to get away from Jasmine, and wondered what she was going to do next.
Chapter Twenty Six
Elizabeth and Bethan arrived at the London house at about six in the evening.
‘Wow, this is amazing,’ said Bethan as they entered. ‘It’s really cool. It’s lovely; so white and clean.’
Elizabeth took Bethan upstairs and showed her the ensuite. On the glass shelf was a row of designer products.
‘It’s really posh.’
Elizabeth was pleased to see Bethan so impressed with her home. She said ‘I’ll change, and then we can go out to eat.’
‘Oh, what shall I wear?’
‘You look fine as you are.’
Elizabeth had been trying to decide where to take Bethan. She didn’t want to over-awe her with somewhere too expensive but, on the other hand, she refused to go to some chain restaurant. She remembered a small Italian restaurant she sometimes went to with Richard, phoned, and booked a table. Just before they left the house Bethan asked,
‘Are you sure I look OK?’
‘Of course.’
‘Where’s the car?’
‘Oh no, not here. We can walk.’
Bethan walked along the hectic streets wide-eyed, ‘It’s so exciting, so many people.’
‘Haven’t you been to London before?’
‘Once with school. It’s not Mum and Dad’s sort of place. We used to go to France for trips when I was little.’
They arrived and were shown to a table. The maitre’d knew Elizabeth and greeted her effusively, adding, ‘I never knew you had a daughter. She is as beautiful as you.’
Elizabeth gasped. She hadn’t expected anyone to jump to that conclusion. She glanced hurriedly around. Elizabeth picked up the menu, then heard a roar of laughter from a table close by. She realised it was a group of people from an auction house she dealt with regularly. Fortunately, they didn’t seem to be looking her way.
‘Let’s order quickly,’ she said to Bethan. ‘I usually have the Bucatini with Marinara and Ricotta.
Bethan was smiling at her, but she did not reply.
‘Is that what you’d like?’
Bethan kept the same fixed smile.
‘What’s the matter?’
Still the same smile. Elizabeth felt irritated. What was the matter? She realised she had stopped signing. It was quite gloomy, and very noisy, where they were sitting.
‘Sorry,’ she signed.
‘It’s OK.’
‘I usually have this one,’ Elizabeth said pointing to the dish.
Bethan nodded. ‘OK. That would be fine’.
The waiter came over to take their order.
‘Oh, what would you like to drink?’ asked Elizabeth
‘I’ll have orange and passion fruit,’ Bethan said to the waiter.
The waiter looked at her blankly, and then at Elizabeth.
‘You know what she said,’ Elizabeth told him, angrily.
‘Sorry. She’s deaf, isn’t she?’
‘Yes, so?’
He shrugged, and looked back at Bethan, who repeated her order. Elizabeth asked for a glass of red wine. When he had gone, she looked at Bethan.
‘How ignorant can you get?’
‘I’ve had worse. One waiter asked me if a needed a menu in Braille.’
‘Good grief.’
‘You get used to it.’
‘It‘s awful. It can’t have been easy growing up.’
‘Well, my Mum always supported me. She always said I could do anything I wanted and no one was to stop me. I watched her fight for me. Like, I had lots of problems with ear infections and ear moulds but she kept taking me back to appointments to sort things out. Another time, when I was about ten, I lost my brand new hearing aids when I went ice-skating. At the hospital they threatened to replace those with cheap ones, but Mum wouldn’t let them.’
‘I’m surprised. She doesn’t look the sort.’
‘Oh she is. She would fight anyone for me and Lowri.’
‘I’m glad she’s been such a good mother.’
‘Oh, yes. She’s amazing. We always come first.’
‘Good,’ said Elizabeth, moving to more familiar ground. ‘I thought tomorrow morning we could hit Oxford Street.’
‘Great. There’s a huge Topshop there.’
‘You want to go there again?’
‘Oh, yes. It’s meant to be brilliant. We can spend the morning there.’
‘Oh, great,’ said Elizabeth, with very little enthusiasm.
As they walked back to the house after the meal Elizabeth wondered how she was meant to occupy Bethan. However, once back Bethan was content to mess about on her new phone, buying apps, and talking to friends.
‘I’m going to watch this,’ said Elizabeth, holding up a boxed set of Sex and the City. ‘Is that OK?’
‘Great. Can you put on subtitles?’
‘Oh, yes. Richard can’t stand it.’
‘Who?’
‘R-i-c-h-a-r-d, a friend, he hates this.’
‘Is Richard an art collector like you?’
‘No, he’s a music agent.’
‘Gosh.’
‘He’s not Zac Freestone. He works with classical musicians.’
‘Wow, that amazing. So is your gallery near here?’
‘Not far.’
‘I’d love to see it.’
Elizabeth hesitated. ‘Maybe.’
‘I’d better text Mum, tell her I’m OK.’
‘You talk to your mother a lot. I never did with mine. I maybe phoned every week or so. I suppose things are different now, with mobiles.’
‘I’d hate that. I like to talk to Mum. Sometimes we text while I’m at school during the break or something.’
‘Does she expect you to do that?’
‘No. I just want to.’
Elizabeth shrugged. ‘Well, you’d better text her now.’
‘I’ll send her some pics of the house as well. She’ll be really impressed.’
Elizabeth was feeling her privacy slipping away, but didn’t comment. She poured herself a drink. She sat back in her armchair, and looked over at the cat flap. ‘I have a cat, you know.’
‘Really?’
‘She’s in the cattery this week, but she’s a stray who adopted me.’
‘I like cats, but Lowri is allergic, so we can’t have one.’
‘But you have a dog?’
‘Yes. She’s OK with them. That’s why she got Safi for Mum for her birthday.’
‘So, Lowri said she’s training to be a doctor like your father?’
‘Yes, she’s like Dad. Really conscientious. She could become a workaholic like him.’
‘Doesn’t your mother mind your father always working?’
‘She’s used to it. She has me and Lowri to think about. And she’s had various jobs herself, washing up and things.’
‘Hasn’t she ever wanted to have a career?’
‘She hasn’t got many qualifications. She’s happy looking after us all.’
Elizabeth frowned. ‘She probably thinks I am odd not having a husband and children.’
‘She doesn’t judge people much.’
‘What has she said about me?’
‘Not much. She said she hadn’t met you, and, well, she didn’t know much. Of course, then we thought you were dead.’
; Elizabeth blanched at the bluntness of it. ‘Were you upset that I was dead?’
Bethan frowned. ‘I don’t remember ever crying. I didn’t know you to miss you. I did wonder what you looked like and things, though, and, of course, I wondered how you could give me away. It’s not like you were poor.’
Elizabeth heard the unmistakable tone of accusation. ‘It was very difficult. My parents would not have approved of me being pregnant and not married. They were very religious.’
‘But even religious people don’t mind nowadays, do they?’
‘My parents did.’
‘Oh. Did you say they are dead now?’
‘Yes.’
‘You never told them about me; they never knew they had a granddaughter?’’
‘No.’ Elizabeth cringed.
‘Why didn’t you have an abortion?’
Elizabeth was feeling increasingly like she was being interrogated.
‘No. I found out I was pregnant at six months.’
‘So you would have had one?’ Bethan was sat forward, watching her intently.
‘I don’t know. I don’t think so. My upbringing–’
‘So, how didn’t you know? You must have been huge.’
‘My periods had always been all over the place, and I stayed very small.’
‘So, if you’d married Aled, would that have made it alright?’
‘I thought so. It’s why I went to the party. I’d heard he was back in England. I hadn’t been able to tell him I was pregnant.’
‘Why not?’
‘I tried, but he didn’t answer my messages. I’d given up, I suppose, until I heard he was back here.’
‘So, what were you thinking of doing with me before the party?’
‘I had already decided I was going to have you adopted.’
Bethan sat back, and spoke more quietly, ‘So you were never going to keep me?’
Elizabeth shook her head. ‘I’m sorry. No, not unless Aled had wanted to marry me.’
‘But he did. Mum said. He wanted to marry you. He wanted me. It’s so sad he died.’
Elizabeth was torn. She didn’t want to hurt Bethan, and shatter her illusions, but she didn’t want to lie either.
‘I can’t talk about this now.’
Bethan looked very frustrated. Then Elizabeth remembered something: maybe it would help. She took the photograph out of her bag, and passed it to Bethan.