by Mary Grand
Catrin swallowed hard. Lowri smiled. ‘Ah, that’s so lovely.’
Catrin scratched her wrist hard.
‘What’s the matter, Mum?’
Catrin blinked quickly. ‘It’s sad, terribly sad.’
‘But why?’
‘Because her life, our life, was nothing like this. It was nothing like a fairy story.’ Catrin burst into tears.
‘What the matter, Mum? What do you mean?’
‘It’s nothing. It’s just sad that Mum, Nana Isabel, had to make up this perfect world.’
‘Don’t you do that sometimes? Tell me, what is happening with Dad? And don’t tell me things are fine. What’s the matter?’
‘I don’t know. I tried to talk, made a mess of it. He just left the house, wouldn’t talk to me.’
‘Mum, you don’t think he’s seeing someone else, do you?’
Catrin looked more closely at Lowri. ‘Why do you ask that?’
‘You said he’s never home and, I don’t know, he’s changed.’
‘I know. And, oh, I don’t know. Maybe he is seeing someone. I did wonder about that Carol.’
‘The nurse?’
‘Yes. He’s always with her.’
‘Have you asked him about it?’
‘I tried, but we don’t seem to be able to talk at the moment.’
Catrin looked again at Lowri’s anxious, pale face. ‘Oh, love. I’m sorry. It’s always you I burden with things. It’s not fair. You’re here stuck with your mother moaning on, while Bethan is probably buying up the Apple store somewhere in London.’
Lowri laughed. ‘I wouldn’t want to be there, I promise you. I’m very happy as I am.’
‘Mark will be wondering where you are.’
‘Oh, he took himself off for a morning walk.’
‘You and Mark seem close.’
Lowri smiled. ‘I’m very lucky. We can talk about anything.’
‘It’s lovely. I’m pleased. Never let that go.’
Catrin heard a knock on the bedroom door.
‘Come in,’ she called.
Mark looked into the room.
‘I thought I heard voices.’
Lowri stood up, smiling. ‘Just chatting. Did you enjoy your walk?’
‘I did. I’m ready for breakfast now.’
‘Fine. Coffee, Mum?’
‘Yes. I’ll tidy this away, and come down.’
Lowri went out quickly, off into her own world with Mark. Catrin sat reading through the stories. Now that she had got over the surprise of them, she started to enjoy them. Her mother had a gift of making a past come to life. She started to imagine pictures that would go with the stories. She picked them up and took them back to her room. Her phone rang. She received several photos from Bethan of clothes she was buying and food she had eaten. She was relieved to hear from Bethan, and sent back a quick message. After this, Catrin found an old sketch pad and pencils, and took them downstairs. Mark and Lowri were inside, watching the games with her father.
‘I made your coffee, Mum,’ shouted Lowri.
‘Thanks,’ Catrin said. She carried it with her drawing things out into the garden, with Safi alongside her. It was a fresh, bright morning. She put the pad and pencils down on the table, wandered over to the border, looked at the sunflowers and poppies, and then again at a patch of ground that was covered, but only thinly. What had been here? She looked at the back of the border. This was completely over-run with thinker greenery and long grass. Then she saw it. She carefully stepped into the border to pick it up. It was heavier than she expected. She stepped back on to the grass and set it down, brushing off the mud and the grass tangled around it. What she was looking at was a stone dragon, about a foot tall. Whilst not cute, it was not frightening. This had been what had been standing in the border. She remembered it so clearly now. Her mother had told her about how her father had given it to her. Of course, she understood why now: Grandad Hugh had given her mother a dragon because Worm’s Head had been their special place. It had been there all through Catrin’s childhood and teens. She was sure it had been there the night of Aled’s party. She remembered Lady sniffing it. So, her mother must have moved it afterwards. The dragon, Worm’s Head: her mother had never wanted to think of it again.
Catrin looked down at the statue. If that is what her mother had felt, maybe she should respect that. She picked it up and heaved it back to the back of the border, even covered it with some grass. Then, she picked a sunflower, took it to the table, and began to draw. She remembered her Nana telling her about the sunflower, how it looks like it has petals only on the outside edge but, if you looked closely, you’d see hundreds of tiny flowers across it. Each one of those flowers will turn into a single seed.
Catrin sat in the quiet, drawing. A peace enveloped her with the gentle breeze. There was something almost spiritual in the moment, like finding something deep down inside her that fed her soul. She realised then that she had missed this. She remembered how at school the art room had been her place of retreat, not just from the rest of the school but from her home, and the stress of her mother. In there she could escape. Then she remembered a quote that had been on the wall of her art room at school, ‘We have art in order not to die of the truth.’ Friedrich Nietzsche, she recalled.
Chapter Thirty
Elizabeth and Bethan were sitting in the garden, recovering from a long busy day shopping and at the concert. Elizabeth had bought salads from a small vegetarian delicatessen. They took them back to the house to eat before the drive back to Gower.
‘That concert was amazing,’ said Bethan. ‘I’m so confused now.’
‘Why?’
‘Well, I want to compose like that, but there’s this audition tomorrow morning. I mean, it’s a chance in a million.’
‘But is it what you want to do?’
‘I don’t know.’
‘You could go, and decide after.’
‘Maybe. I’ll talk to Mum when I get back.’
Elizabeth suddenly realised how tired she was.
‘Do you think your mother would mind if we stayed here one more night? I promise to leave first thing. I don’t like driving when I’m so tired.’
‘Sure. I’ll send Mum a text.’
Bethan received a reply quickly.
‘Mum’s OK. Not too happy about me being away another night but, as long as we leave early, she said I can stay.’
They sat quietly, Elizabeth on her laptop, Bethan on her phone. Elizabeth heard the front door open. She panicked. Even if an intruder got past the security guard at the gates, how could anyone get into her house? She froze. She quietly got off her seat, and crept to look through the patio doors. With a cry of relief, she realised it was Richard, who was looking at her in an equally startled way.
‘Elizabeth,’ he exclaimed. ‘I was worried to death when I saw the patio doors open. I thought you’d been burgled.’
‘Sorry, we came up to see a concert and decided to come back here before driving down. I’d forgotten about you coming in to water the plants.’
‘We?’
‘Oh, I brought someone with me,’ said Elizabeth, panicking.
Richard walked over to the open patio doors.
Bethan looked up from her phone and gave him a radiant smile. ‘Hello, I’m Bethan.’
Richard grinned. ‘Bethan, great to meet you. I’m Richard.’ Elizabeth saw him glance at her, waiting for a proper introduction. ‘Let’s go and make a drink,’ she said to him. ‘Bethan, you stay here just a minute.’
Richard looked puzzled. When they went in, he said,
‘You were signing?’
‘Bethan is Deaf.’
‘She speaks well. So, who is she?’
‘Bethan is my–’ Elizabeth paused. ‘–My niece.’
‘I thought you were an only child–’
‘I don’t tend to mention my sister. We don't get on very well at all, but I like her daughter. She’s a nice kid, and Deaf, as you noticed. Anyway, my sister
had hurt her ankle. She sent me a text and asked me if I could do something with her as she’d split up with her boyfriend and so–’ Elizabeth stopped. She was getting very confused. Who was it who said that it was so much easier to tell the truth as there was nothing to remember?
‘So you went to see your sister on Gower?’
Elizabeth sighed. ‘They are down that way. Anyway, I said I’d take a day out of my holiday to bring Bethan up here for a concert.’
‘That’s really good of you.’
‘I don’t mind. She’s no trouble.’
‘And how did the memorial go?’
‘It was OK, thanks.’
‘And you survived the B & B?’
‘Of course. Look, I think it’s best if you leave us to it. Bethan’s very shy, and we’ll have to get going soon. I’m taking her back to my sister this evening.’
‘Fine. I’ll let you get on.’
‘Thank you.’ Elizabeth smiled up at him. ‘It’s good to see you.’
‘I’ve missed you.’
‘Congratulations about the grandad thing.’
Richard laughed. ‘That makes me sound old, doesn’t it?’
Elizabeth relaxed. She walked towards the front door to see Richard out.
‘Don’t worry about the plants. Obviously, I can do them now.’
‘So, you take Bethan back to your sister. Are you coming back here then?’
‘Yes, I think so.’
‘Well, let me know when you’re back.’
Elizabeth opened the front door, but Richard stopped.
‘I ought to say good bye to Bethan.’ He headed for the patio doors, with Elizabeth calling out not to bother. But she was too late: he’d reached the patio door. She rushed over. Bethan was still sitting down. She looked up from her phone.
‘You’re off?’
‘Yes, leave you two to chat. It’s nice to meet a member of Elizabeth’s family at last.’
Bethan beamed. ‘It’s wonderful to have found each other, isn’t it? You know, I thought she was dead.’
Richard frowned. ‘Really?’
‘It’s time you went, Richard,’ Elizabeth interrupted.
‘Of course. Well, I hope you’re mother’s ankle is better soon.’
Bethan looked puzzled. ‘What do you mean?’
‘Your mother. She’s hurt her ankle, hasn’t she?’ Richard repeated, pointing to his ankle.
‘You think my mother has hurt her ankle?’
Richard half-laughed. ‘Yes, sorry–’
‘No, it’s OK. My mother’s ankles are fine.’
Richard looked confused. ‘I thought that’s why Elizabeth had brought you up to the concert, to give you a treat. You’re lucky to have such a devoted Aunty–’
‘Aunty?’
‘Yes, Aunty–’
‘Elizabeth is my–’
‘Aunty,’ shouted Elizabeth. She stared at Bethan hard. ‘You’re my niece, aren’t you?’
Elizabeth looked at her, pleading with her to play along, but Bethan refused. She stood up. Her eyes were blazing. ‘No, I’m not your niece.’
‘Who are you then?’ asked a very bemused Richard.
‘Tell him,’ demanded Bethan. ‘Tell him who I am.’
Elizabeth could feel her heart pounding. Her mouth was very dry. She couldn’t speak. It was like some nightmare, with Richard and Bethan staring at her like some inquisition, both waiting for her answer.
Bethan pushed past her and went upstairs.
‘I think you’d better go,’ Elizabeth said to Richard. ‘She’s an awful mess.’
‘Will you be alright? I’m used to hysterical teenagers, you know.’
‘No, really. She’ll be alright when it’s just me and her’.
‘OK. Take care. Ring me if you need me. I’ll take you out for a lot of red wine when you come back.’
‘Thanks.’
Richard left. Elizabeth stood, wondering what to do. She was just about to go upstairs when Bethan appeared, walking down the stairs, carrying her case.
‘You don’t want me here, do you?’
‘Of course I do. Don’t be silly.’
‘No, you said it. Last night you pretended to be all honest and open. You think you can just spend a load of money on me and everything will be alright.’
‘Of course not.’
‘You do. Well, it hasn’t worked. It’s my turn to leave you now.’
Bethan was crying hysterically. Elizabeth looked at her in horror.
‘You can’t go anywhere. Stop it.’
‘I can. I want to go back to Gower.’
Elizabeth was shaking.
‘I said we can go first thing in the morning.’
‘But I want to go now.’
‘I can’t drive tonight. Really, I’m exhausted.’
‘Well, I’m leaving now. I’ll go on the train.’
‘Don’t be silly. You can’t go off getting trains at this time.’
‘You brought me here to poison me against Aled.’
‘Hang on–’
‘Yes, you did. He wanted me. Mum said. He’d have been a great father. He was better than you. He wouldn’t have given me away.’
‘For God’s sake, Bethan.’
‘I hate you. Well, you know, I’m glad you gave me away. I wish you really were dead.’
Elizabeth gasped, but Bethan hadn’t finished.
‘I’m going up to speak to my mother, my real mother.’
Bethan turned, stomped up the stairs and slammed her bedroom door.
Elizabeth went into the kitchen, poured herself a glass of whisky and clutched the glass. She went back to the sofa and sat down, white faced. Tears started to stream down her face.
She was so stupid. Of course she was a hopeless mother. She was a woman who had given her baby away. Of course she would be useless with children. Her baby: she had given her away, and now she had lost her again. She lay on the sofa and sobbed, deep tears that had been stored since the day she had handed her baby to the social worker, the tears she had wanted to shed when she had gone to her parents pretending all was well, that her body was not aching, that her breasts were not crying out for a baby to feed from. She cried, deep painful heart-wrenching sobs, drowning in sorrow and grief.
Chapter Thirty One
Catrin sat in the garden. The sea was a distant cluster of light blue jewels, the horizon a single dark blue line dividing the sea from the sky. It was easy to see why people at one time thought the world was flat. She could easily believe that you could just fall over the edge into an abyss. It was still as beautiful: there was no denying it. Whatever people did, this place stayed as lovely as ever.
Catrin’s phone rang. She received two texts: one from Elizabeth, one from Bethan.
Bethan’s said, ‘I hate her.’ Catrin panicked. What had happened? It was her fault; she should never have let Bethan go.
‘What has happened?’ she replied.
‘She lied about me. She never loved me. She’s a rich bitch. I hate her.’
‘You’re coming back tomorrow.’
‘Can’t wait. Love you Mum xxx.’
Catrin phoned Elizabeth.
Elizabeth sounded very different to her normal assertive self.
‘Oh, hello. I was going to ring.’
‘I’ve just received a text from Bethan. What’s happened?’
‘I’ve made such a mess of everything.’
‘What happened?’
‘A friend came round. It was difficult. He wanted to know who Bethan was.’
‘And what did you say?’
‘I said she was my niece’
‘You said that in front of Bethan?’
‘Yes. No-one knows about her. How could I tell the man I may be about to live with, ‘Oh, by the way, here’s my daughter,’ could I?’
‘But it was a terrible thing to do to Bethan.’
‘She not a child–’ Catrin could hear a defiance creeping back into Elizabeth’s voice.
‘But I’ve spoiled her rotten all day.’
‘Buying things is not always the answer.’
‘She should at least appreciate the money I spent. She said terrible things to me. How did she ever learn to speak to someone like that? I never spoke like that to my parents.’
‘Bethan can be very dramatic, but she’s had a very emotional week.’
‘She shouldn’t have been so rude. Don’t you tell her off when she speaks to you like that?’
‘You have no right to criticise how I’ve brought up Bethan.’
‘Look, I’ve made mistakes, but she was very hurtful. To be honest, I think you have spoilt her. You have made her the centre of the universe.’
‘I am her mother. It’s what I do. I look after her.’
‘Look after her by telling her lies, then–’
‘What do you mean?’
‘I started to talk to her about Aled.’
‘What did you tell her?’
‘All I said was that Aled didn’t want to marry me.’
‘You shouldn’t have said that. It’s not true, and it’s a terrible thing to say to Bethan about her father. She needs to know how much Aled wanted her. He would have been a wonderful father and, of course, he would have married you.’
‘Catrin, how can you be so naïve?’
‘My father told me–’
‘Do you believe everything your father says?’
‘No, but–’
‘Ask him. Ask your father what really happened that night.’
‘He’s already told me.’
‘No he hasn’t. Think about it. You found me unconscious. Why did Aled leave me? What do you really think happened? I’ve made a mess of things with Bethan, but you know, deep down, that what your father has told you isn’t true. It’s not fair on me or Bethan.’
‘What’s not fair is you turning up out of the blue, and hurting Bethan like this. You are still bringing her back, aren’t you?’