Now all she needed was something to wear on a date with a boy. Katie went to the wardrobe and rifled through some of the clothes Mary had given her. The tea dress was her current favourite – moss green with pink rosebuds – a perfect combination of sexy but sedate. She crept across the landing to borrow Mum’s button jar and sewing box and spent the next hour mending a rip at the seam, a small tear on the hem and covering a button and stitching it on. She spent ages watching YouTube videos on fifties and sixties fashion and was just sorting through her very minimal eye shadow collection to see if she had a black eye liner (Audrey Hepburn’s eyes were smoking hot) when Mum opened the bedroom door. She opened it warily, like she was expecting someone else. ‘Katie?’ She shut the door quietly behind her. ‘You’ve been up here a long time.’
She sounded disappointed. Katie scooped the makeup into its bag and zipped it shut. ‘Sorry.’
‘Look what I found in the suitcase.’ Mum sat next to Katie on the bed and tentatively held out a photo. ‘It’s my parents’ wedding – Pat and Lionel.’
Katie had never seen such a miserable-looking couple. They were standing outside a church, arms stoically linked. There was scaffolding up and all you could see of the church was the door and the edge of a window and it had clearly been raining, since the ground was pot-holed and puddled. Behind the bride and groom, a small group of guests stood in a bundle smiling grimly at the camera.
‘See him?’ Mum said. ‘That’s my granddad, and these two are relatives of Lionel’s, though I don’t remember them very well.’
It was the saddest wedding in the world. Everyone looked dour and old. Except … Katie leaned closer … a baby, wrapped up in a blanket and held in one of the old woman’s arms was laughing! The only bit of life in the picture. She was reaching out a fat baby hand for something beyond the frame of the photo. Maybe the trees were waving in the wind and she was waving back.
‘Is that baby you?’
Mum nodded. She looked pleased to be recognized.
‘You don’t look like you belong to them. Look at you – all joyful, while they’re all frowning. You’re laughing like Mary does. You look just like her.’
‘Is that right?’
Mum’s voice held a warning, but it was ridiculous being offended at having similarities pointed out. ‘Weren’t you even a little bit pleased to discover Mary was your real mother?’
‘Pleased? What sort of question is that? A total stranger turns up and flips my world on its head. Why would I be happy about it?’
Because Mary was lovely? Because Pat was a liar? Because it must’ve been difficult living with such dour and cantankerous-looking people? But Katie knew if she said that, Mum would walk out the door, so she smiled an apology instead. ‘Can I keep the photo? I haven’t got Pat or Lionel on the wall yet. Or your granddad.’
Mum shrugged. ‘If you like.’
Katie knew Mum was staring at her as she found Blu-Tack and put the picture up. It made her feel uncomfortable. The photo was probably meant as a peace offering. Perhaps Mum thought if she handed it over, Katie would open up about last night and where she’d gone and why she’d got back late and run up to bed so quickly. Katie gave a quick glance over to her laptop to make sure it was shut. Yes, and her phone was locked.
‘Have you been mending something?’ Mum said. ‘I see my sewing things are out.’
‘I had a button missing.’
Mum picked up the tea dress and examined it. ‘This isn’t yours.’
‘Mary gave it to me.’
‘You brought clothes from the house as well as the suitcase?’
‘Just a few things. She said I could have them.’
Mum sighed. ‘You know, it kind of annoys me that you see only the good in Mary. You think the past is some kind of romantic story and it isn’t like that at all.’
‘What’s it like then?’
‘Why are you so fascinated?’
‘It’s my history, my inheritance.’
‘Your inheritance?’ Mum shook her head. ‘I’d say that’s ten pounds and your brother. Although I might chuck in my iPad if you’re lucky.’
Mum was trying to lighten the mood, but it wasn’t funny. Katie hated it when Chris got handed over like that. It made the future lie flat, as if it was completely predictable. Much as Katie loved him, she didn’t want Chris shadowing her life, making sure she had to be sensible and well-behaved for ever. She moved over to the desk and sat on the chair. She could hear kids playing football out in the ball court. Their shouts echoed off the walls of the flats. She swivelled the chair closer to her mother and plonked her feet on the bed, making it bounce. She knew Mum thought she’d done it on purpose, but she hadn’t.
‘Do you remember when I did that project at primary school, Mum? The one where I had to draw a family tree? Dad told me Pat drowned and then you walked into the room and got upset. You even wrote a letter of complaint to the school. I ended up imagining all sorts, probably worse than anything that really happened. All these years later, I still know nothing about my own family.’
They stared at each other. For one appalling moment, Katie thought her mum was about to cry. But she took her glasses off and rubbed them with her skirt instead. ‘What exactly do you want to know?’
All of it. Every detail of every person from every year. But Katie knew that was pushing it. ‘Why did Mary show up on your doorstep when you were nine? She’d had your address for years and never used it. Why then?’
‘I don’t know why. To this day I haven’t a clue.’
‘You never asked?’
‘I was a child. I wasn’t going to sit down and interview everyone.’ Mum put her glasses back on and peered at Katie over the top of them. ‘I’ve always assumed she was busy getting on with her career and just happened to be passing by that day.’
‘Did she just knock on the door and announce herself?’
‘No, she came up to me in the street.’
‘Pat wasn’t there?’
‘She was indoors. Kids played in the street in those days.’
‘So, Mary just walked up to you and said, ‘“Hi, guess who I am?”’
‘Of course not.’ Mum smiled wearily. ‘Listen, Katie, if I tell you what happened, that’s the end of it, OK? No more meddling in the past after this.’
That was a terrible deal, but Katie nodded anyway. She didn’t want to scare Mum off, didn’t want her knowing it wouldn’t be the end of it at all. Mum was like a bird on a lawn. Any sudden movement and she’d be frightened away.
Mum brushed at her skirt, picking off imaginary fluff. ‘Well, I was living here in North Bisham, as you know. And I was happy, I really was. I had a mum and a dad and a house and garden and friends. I think that’s why I wanted to live back here – to try and capture that happiness again. Stupid, really …
‘Anyway, it was the summer holidays and I was out playing with the rest of the kids from the street when we heard the ice-cream van and we all ran indoors to beg our mothers for sixpence. But my mum was lying on the sofa with a flannel across her forehead and the curtains drawn and I knew I shouldn’t wake her. So I went back outside and sat on the gatepost and watched my friends queue up at the van and wander off with their Zooms or Treble Hits or whatever and felt very sorry for myself.
‘About five minutes later, a lady appeared. I didn’t see where she came from, but she seemed to materialize as the van drove off and she stood right in front of me and smiled and said, “Hello, Caroline.” And she was just so pretty – young and glamorous and so unlike anyone I’d ever met, that instead of asking how she knew my name, or being suspicious in any way, I said hello back.’
Katie shifted forwards on her chair. ‘Why did you think she was glamorous? What was she wearing?’
‘Oh, she looked so modern. All the kids were staring. We were used to our mothers, who wore aprons and slippers and had scarves over their curlers as they went about their housework, but this woman looked like she’d walked off a movie sc
reen with her bobbed hair and slacks.
‘She told me she’d come to take me for ice cream at the coffee bar at the end of the street. I asked her if my mother knew and she leaned in and whispered, “Does she have one of her headaches today?” I nodded, amazed that she knew both my name and this very private thing about my mother. “Well,” she said, “then she won’t miss us.” So I hopped off the gatepost and took her hand. I remember feeling so special as we walked past all the other kids – chosen, I suppose. A boy asked who she was and I didn’t know what to tell him, but Mary turned to him and smiled and guess what she said?’
Katie shook her head, her heart at her throat.
‘She told him she was my fairy godmother. And do you know, I actually believed her.’
Katie could imagine that – both that Mary would say it (she’d love the drama) and that Mum would believe it. Poor little nine-year-old Mum. And it was odd, because although Katie knew this story was going to end badly, she also felt sorry for everyone in it. Pat was the villain (although neither Mum nor Mary seemed able to admit this out loud), but she wasn’t evil – just a misguided woman who’d been desperate to keep a child she’d fallen in love with and have a different kind of life.
‘The coffee bar had recently opened,’ Mum went on, ‘and it wasn’t a place my mother would ever have taken me. It had a jukebox and little booths with Formica tables and it sold milkshakes and coffee and snacks. It also sold ice-cream sundaes and I’d admired the pictures in the window lots of times.
‘I made that ice cream last for ages. Every single mouthful was delicious. Mary told me wonderful things about London – about plays she’d been in and parties she’d been to.’
‘Plays?’ Katie sat up straighter. ‘She got to be an actress after all?’
‘Only in rep. Small-town stuff. She never made it to the silver screen.’
‘But it was her dream. It was the thing Pat and her dad banned her from doing and she got it anyway. That’s amazing.’
Mum scowled. ‘I knew you’d be like this – all delighted that Mary got what she wanted, and never mind the cost to anyone else …’
Katie gave Mum an apologetic smile. She didn’t want her stomping off downstairs and not finishing the story. It was amazing though. And ironic that Mary won more freedom by being pregnant and disgraced than she’d ever gained by being well-behaved. ‘So, when did Mary tell you she was your real mum?’
‘She didn’t. I only found that out when I got home.’
‘Pat told you?’
‘She was on the doorstep when we got back and saw us coming up the street. I got my legs slapped for going off with a stranger and Mary got the door slammed in her face. It was only because she started calling through the letterbox that my mum let her in. I was sent to my room, but I crept out and stood on the landing.’ Mum ran her hands through her hair, pulling it into a ponytail, then letting it go. It wasn’t a gesture Katie had ever seen her do before and it made her look young. ‘There was a lot of shouting. My mum was afraid Mary had come to take me away. She said that just because Mary gave birth to me, it didn’t mean she could have me back.’
‘That’s how you found out? You overheard?’
Mum nodded. ‘I overheard a lot of things that day. They weren’t very discreet. I didn’t understand it all, but I certainly worked out that my mum was actually my auntie and had married my dad for convenience sake and was desperately unhappy. Marriage isn’t what I was expecting, she said.
‘Mary had a lot to say on that subject. She thought my mother’s headaches were my dad’s fault, that happiness was important, that divorce was no longer taboo, that my mother should get herself a job … oh, there was a whole list of things she thought my mum could do to improve her lot.
‘My father turned up from work, but instead of calming things down, he joined in. He told Mary about my mother’s funny turns, the amount of days she spent on the sofa and the amount of times he had to make his own tea. My mother started to cry and said she should never have married him. I remember thinking that Mary seemed able to make people say things they’d usually keep quiet about.
‘Mary offered to take me away for a few days while they sorted themselves out, but my mother thought she’d never see me again if that happened, so Mary was told to leave. I watched her go from my bedroom window and it really was like she had magical powers, because even though I was hiding behind the curtain she waved up at me.’
Something melted inside Katie as she gazed at her mother. It was as if her eyes opened to something startling that had been right in front of her all along. ‘Mary ruined everything by showing up, didn’t she? No wonder you’re mad at her.’
Mum smiled limply. ‘It was certainly a difficult time.’
Even Mum and Dad breaking up hadn’t been that dramatic. At least Katie had seen it coming and been old enough to cope, and she’d had Chris to share it with …
‘How long until you saw her again?’
‘Months. My parents separated and I went with my mother to live with my grandfather. I lost my friends and my father – and in many ways I lost my mother because her headaches got worse and she spent a lot of time in bed and my grandfather had to look after me. I got very close to him.’
‘And did Pat realize you knew the truth? Did she know you overheard?’
Mum shook her head. ‘I’ll tell you something. I used to look for evidence. I wanted to find something conclusive, a photo or a letter or some kind of absolute fact in black and white which would prove I hadn’t imagined it. I wanted to take it to Pat and say, Tell me about Mary, but despite rootling around in wardrobes and cupboards, I never found a single thing. All those letters you brought back yesterday would have been somewhere in that house, but I didn’t see them. I guess when Pat died, Mary took them. Maybe she was trying to protect me from knowing I’d been stolen away.’ Mum gave Katie a grim smile. ‘It’s just a pity she feels compelled to stir everything up now.’
‘It was me who went looking for the suitcase, Mum. It’s me that’s been stirring things up.’
‘She mentioned it to you though, didn’t she? At the funeral. You went looking on purpose?’
‘Only because she wants you to know how much she loves you, before she forgets.’
‘Charming!’
Katie smiled. ‘That didn’t come out right.’
It was true though. Mary would forget everything one day. The pictures on the wall might help her remember names and faces, but they wouldn’t help her remember who she loved.
‘So what happened next?’ Katie asked. ‘Did Mary just show up again one day and take you to London?’
‘What happened next was a girl at school told me my mother was a slut. I had no idea what that meant, but I knew it was bad, so I told Pat. She was mortified, and said something like, “I assure you she’s not referring to me.” I asked her if the girl meant Mary and Pat looked at me in such shock that I realized I’d finally let slip I’d overheard. I was glad though – at least I didn’t have to pretend any more.’
‘It was my granddad who sat me down and told me the story. Mary had been very naughty having a baby without a husband, he said. She hadn’t been able to cope and Pat and Lionel had stepped in to save the day. When Mary ran off, they thought she was never coming back and so it was agreed I’d become Pat’s little girl.’
That was a terrible version of the truth and Katie bit her lip so she didn’t slag off Mum’s granddad. OK, he had a dead wife and a broken heart, but he’d refused to talk to Mary when she had the baby. He’d called her a slut and told her to leave and he let his other daughter marry some prehistoric mate of his. In fact, Katie’s great granddad could be the new villain. She flicked a look at his photo – grim, unsmiling, dressed in a million layers of tweed. Yeah, he looked the part.
‘Mary was allowed to visit now I officially knew,’ Mum went on, ‘but her visits always upset the household for days. My granddad would sit in another room and refuse to talk or share a meal and Pat
would go brittle like she disapproved of everything and Mary would be oblivious. She’d swan in with her fancy presents, looking gorgeous, stay a few hours and then disappear for weeks. If I wore a dress she’d bought me or read one of the books she gave me, I’d get frowned at by Pat and tutted at by Granddad, and so I started keeping them secret and I’d get them out and look at them when no one was there. I used to long for her visits and dread them at the same time.’
‘How long did this go on for?’
‘I was twelve when she finally took me away - so she’d been visiting for a couple of years.’
‘Why did she take you away?’
‘Pat was ill.’
‘What was wrong with her?’
‘No, Katie – you asked what happened when Mary showed up and I’ve told you. All you need to know is that my place should have been with Pat, and instead they let Mary take me away and it was awful. A total disaster. Honestly, I can’t talk about it, Katie, I’m sorry. There’s not much more to the story. I stayed nearly two years with Mary in London – it took that long for Pat to get better – and it was a nightmare. I was very glad to get away from the city and back home where I belonged.’ She laughed without humour. ‘Living with your fairy godmother isn’t quite as glamorous as you might think.’
And that was all Katie was getting. It boiled down to Mary showing up out of the blue and a little girl’s world being smashed apart. But why did she show up? She’d got the address from the detective years before and decided not to use it. She’d fervently believed her child was better off with two parents and then she’d changed her mind.
Katie shut her eyes and concentrated on the pink glow the sun made on her eyelids. If she could turn back time, would it be best not to have found the suitcase? Mum wouldn’t have discovered Pat broke the contract, Katie wouldn’t have written Simona an idiotic letter. They’d all go back to last week, when life was simpler – Mum happily thinking Mary hated her, Mary happily wandering about not remembering much, Katie not yet making a fool of herself running through the dark to the café. Ah! Even thinking about it made her want to hide her face.
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