Dear Mother: A gripping and emotional story that will make you sob your heart out

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Dear Mother: A gripping and emotional story that will make you sob your heart out Page 4

by Angela Marsons


  ‘An accident?’ Catherine breathed.

  ‘You stumbled?’ Alex asked, her eyes wide with amazement.

  ‘Of course,’ Beth said, frowning slightly. Her expression cleared. ‘I’ll just go and see if there are any salmon sandwiches left.’

  ‘Oh my God,’ Alex said, clamping a hand to her mouth. ‘She doesn’t remember a fucking thing.’

  Five

  Catherine

  Catherine checked her emails but the one she was waiting for, hoping for, hadn’t come through. The clock on the wall ticked ominously towards five. Surely if she’d won the contract she’d know by now.

  She pressed the intercom button that linked her directly to her PA. ‘Lisa, anything from upstairs yet?’

  ‘Not yet,’ Lisa said, impatience colouring her words.

  Catherine disconnected. She’d lost count of the times she’d asked. But today should be the day.

  Lisa opened the door, carrying a cup of herbal tea. ‘Here, drink this. It might calm your nerves.’

  Catherine ignored the drink and began to pace the room. ‘For Christ’s sake, surely they’ve decided by now. I mean, they said by Monday… ’

  ‘Will you please relax?’ Lisa chided.

  ‘It’s all right for you. You have nothing invested in this. I worked night and day on that presentation to get the contract… ’

  Lisa huffed. ‘Of course the hours that I stayed late to help mean absolutely nothing.’

  ‘You know what I mean. It’s just such a big thing for me. I’ve worked so hard for this promotion.’

  ‘It’s important to me also,’ Lisa said with a smile. ‘Although I’m sure my salary hike will be nothing compared to yours, I’ll still enjoy the prestige of a title change. I can see it now,’ she said, gazing up at the ceiling. ‘Lisa Gordon, PA to Advertising Executive. Will I get my own office? An assistant?’

  In spite of her nerves Catherine started to laugh. ‘Who said I’d take you upstairs with me?’

  Lisa crossed her legs dramatically. ‘You’d be nothing without me. I am the power behind the throne. I am the wind beneath your wings. I am—’

  ‘Get out and guard that phone,’ Catherine ordered.

  Lisa reached the door and turned. ‘Hey, boss,’ she paused and smiled, ‘stop worrying, it’ll come.’

  Thank God for Lisa, Catherine thought as the girl closed the door quietly. The twenty-one-year-old possessed a bubbly personality and an unshakeable loyalty that Catherine had come to rely on.

  She checked her diary for the following day. She had three meetings with prospective clients but none as big as the one she was waiting to hear about. Lisa had been right. It would catapult her from account manager to executive. A substantial pay increase but, more importantly, a move to the top floor alongside the other executives and the two directors.

  There was also a pencilled note to ring Beth. She felt guilty for the fact that it was in pencil. She only marked things in pencil if they were flexible enough to be carried forward to the next day if she ran out of time. The entry had been re-written three times.

  In the six days since the funeral Catherine had meant to call her sister and check that she was okay, but something had stopped her. She wasn’t sure how to communicate with Beth and that had nothing to do with the years that had passed between them.

  The realisation that Beth didn’t remember anything had shocked her to the core. How could she not remember? Catherine had searched her expression for any clue that the truth lurked in there somewhere but she had found nothing.

  Surely it wasn’t healthy to be denying everything that happened in their childhood, but maybe it was a type of defence mechanism that Beth had employed to enable her to stay with their mother and take care of her. Maybe Beth was the lucky one, Catherine reasoned. If she could pay for the memories to be surgically removed she’d book the procedure tomorrow. She didn’t know enough about denial to understand if Beth’s total ignorance of the events of their childhood was healthy or not, but she knew it just didn’t feel right.

  Her thoughts turned to Alex who was a completely different story. She remembered it all, clearly. Catherine felt sadness wash over her for her youngest sister. She knew the drinking was an escape to bury the memories. Alex was still tortured by the past and remained gripped by their cycle. She wished there was something she could do. How different might Alex’s life have been if her spirit and fight had been channelled in a positive direction? What could she have become? Catherine closed her eyes. Alex was drowning and Catherine didn’t know how to save her.

  ‘Catherine… Catherine… ’ Lisa’s voice sounded through the intercom.

  ‘Yes,’ she answered, sitting upright. Alert. Her heart pounded in her chest.

  ‘Drinks at Brini’s in half an hour.’

  Shit, thought Catherine. That told her nothing. She knew people who had been fired and promoted at Brini’s. It was an exclusive members’ club a stone’s throw from the office, in the centre of Shrewsbury. A plain door sat between a trendy boutique and health-food shop. Known only to its patrons, Catherine had been there once before when they’d head-hunted her from Pimton’s.

  She pressed the shortcut to Tim’s mobile. He’d be on his way to the childminder to collect the girls.

  ‘It’s me,’ she said as he answered. She could hear the noise of rush-hour traffic in the background. ‘I’ve just had the call,’ she said, nervously.

  ‘Aren’t you on your way home?’

  ‘Didn’t you hear me? I said I’ve just had the call. I’m meeting the directors in half an hour.’

  The line went quiet. Catherine wondered if they’d been disconnected, but the traffic noise remained.

  ‘Tonight?’

  ‘Of course tonight,’ she snapped. What was wrong with him? Why wasn’t he excited for her?

  ‘You’ll have to postpone.’

  ‘Are you out of your mind?’ she screeched down the phone. ‘Why the hell would I want to do that?’

  ‘Because it’s parents’ evening for your six-year-old daughters.’

  Catherine could hear the controlled rage in his voice. Shit, she had completely forgotten.

  ‘I’ve been telling you for three weeks and I left a reminder on the fridge this morning.’ His voice was low and barely audible.

  ‘I can’t postpone this meeting, Tim. You know how hard I’ve worked to get this. If I cancel now I might just as well collect my P45 in the morning.’

  ‘That may not be such a bad thing.’

  ‘For Christ’s sake,’ Catherine cried indignantly. ‘It’s for you and the girls that I’m doing this. The extra money could pay for a lot—’

  ‘Please don’t pretend that anything other than your need for approval and recognition drives you, Catherine,’ he said, his voice loud and strong. ‘The girls would much prefer you at their parents’ evening.’

  Catherine was stung by his words but she didn’t want an argument. She needed to be focused when she met the directors.

  ‘Listen, I’ll try and hurry the meeting along and meet you at the school as soon as I can get—’

  It took Catherine a few seconds to realise that the line had been disconnected. She replaced the receiver and contemplated calling Tim back. She decided against it. She’d sort it out with him later.

  The low grey clouds and drizzling rain were drawing the evening in quicker than normal for a late September day. Catherine tried not to see the weather as a bad omen and fixed a bright smile on her face as she entered the wine bar.

  The two directors were sitting at the same table as when they’d offered her her current position. She briefly wondered if it was reserved for them exclusively. She sat in the plush maroon velvet chair and greeted them both. A monochrome waiter appeared beside her instantly. She ordered a soft drink.

  The younger Mr Leigh smiled at her but she could read nothing from his expression. He was in his early fifties, but time and millions had served him well. His hair was full and silvery and topped
a healthy tanned face. His older brother had not been so fortunate and his five additional years showed in his receding hairline and growing paunch.

  Mr Leigh Junior sat back in his chair. ‘How’s the family, Catherine?’

  ‘They’re fine, thank you.’

  Catherine realised she’d just had the perfect opportunity to pave the way for leaving early had she mentioned that it was her children’s parents’ evening, but she’d let the moment pass.

  ‘You know why we’ve asked you here this evening, Catherine?’

  She nodded and despite the fact that he was smiling his expression was still indecipherable.

  ‘How long have you been with us now?’

  ‘Five years.’

  Catherine still couldn’t tell which way the meeting was going. The various permutations her mind computed had delivered three options. Her presentation had not secured the contract. Her presentation had secured the contract and she was going to head it. Or option three, which she dared not even consider: her presentation had won the contract but they were nominating someone else to head it.

  ‘You’ve been with us for five years so that makes you… thirty?’

  ‘Twenty-nine.’

  Mr Leigh Junior nodded before drawing his eyebrows together in a slight frown and Catherine’s heart missed a beat. Jesus, no. If they had won the contract and it was going to be awarded to someone else due to her age she seriously doubted that she could continue to work for the company any longer.

  ‘As you know, the Finesse cosmetics presentation was one of the largest and most ambitious contracts we’ve ever bid for.’

  She nodded, too afraid to speak. His voice was low and even, giving nothing away.

  ‘Their annual gross profit is in the region of ninety million pounds. Fifteen million of that is spent on advertising.’

  Catherine knew all that. ‘But we’re only tendering for the new organic line,’ she said, confused. That line alone was worth just under five million and a substantial contract for the business.

  Mr Leigh nodded, a slow smile spreading across his face. ‘You’re right. That’s in the bag, but they were so blown away by your presentation that they’d like to see what we could do with the entire product range.’

  ‘Jesus Christ,’ Catherine said and then coloured. The other, quieter, Mr Leigh was a good Christian man. Luckily he was smiling, too. Catherine could barely believe it. She knew the presentation had been good. She’d spent months on it, neglecting her other contracts at times, and it was something she was incredibly proud of. The late nights and early mornings had paid off. Relief flooded through her body.

  She wanted to hug and kiss everyone in the room but a niggling thought silenced the fanfare in her mind. They hadn’t yet ruled out option number three: that although her presentation had won the contract, someone with more experience would be drafted in to head it.

  ‘Well?’ he prompted.

  ‘It’s fantastic news. Better than I could have hoped for but…’

  ‘Your new title will be Senior Executive, which incidentally is a new position and answers directly to myself.’

  ‘Oh my… Oh Jesus… Oh my Lord!’ she exclaimed.

  Both Mr Leighs laughed out loud. ‘You’ll need to choose a team, starting with a project manager.’

  ‘Lisa Gordon.’

  Mr Leigh looked a little doubtful but shrugged. ‘I’ll trust your judgement on the support that you choose and we’ll discuss the finer details of the promotion tomorrow.’

  Catherine knew that he was talking about the salary but she didn’t care. The point was that she’d got it. Finally, recognition for her hard work, for the time and effort she’d put into the project. At last, she was being recognised.

  ‘Obviously your other contracts will be redistributed amongst the other account managers, leaving you free to focus on the Finesse range alone.’

  Catherine nodded gratefully. They chatted for a while longer but she barely heard a word. Her mind was already making plans to secure the other lines. Her brain was buzzing with ideas.

  The two brothers congratulated her once again and excused themselves for a dinner appointment.

  Catherine finished her Perrier and floated to where she’d parked the car.

  As she pulled into the school playground the digital display told her it was almost eight. She was nearly an hour late. She grabbed her bag and hurriedly followed the directions to the classroom. Thank God for the signs. Although she’d dropped the girls off at school a couple of times she had no idea where their actual classroom was.

  The room was almost empty. Two women were sitting at the teacher’s desk and Tim was in the far corner amongst colourful toys and the girls. A boy was showing Jess something in a pop-up book.

  ‘Thank goodness. I’m not too late, am I?’ Catherine asked, smiling at Tim.

  ‘I waited until last,’ Tim said, rising to his feet. ‘Show Jamie how that toy works,’ he instructed Jess, ruffling her hair. He moved to the other corner of the room, away from the children.

  Catherine tried to pre-empt his words. ‘Tim, I’m sorry. I know how important tonight is but you’ll never guess what’s happened.’

  ‘And it’s still all about you, isn’t it?’ he hissed. ‘We’ve been here for two hours. Miss Whitney has called us twice. We should have been home ages ago. The girls are tired and restless. They want to go to bed and the only thing you’re bothered about is your damn promotion.’

  Catherine tried to keep a rein on her anger. Her feelings during the drive from the wine bar had alternated. Her indignation at Tim’s lack of support for her career had fought with her wish to smooth over the troubled waters, prompting the immediate apology.

  ‘I’ve explained why I had to—’

  ‘Save it, Catherine. I’m not interested. Take a look at that woman sitting at the desk. She’s twenty-four years of age and that’s her six-year-old son. She’s a single mother and has three part-time jobs to support him. And guess what? She got here on time.’

  Catherine opened her mouth to retort but Tim was heading towards the desk where the two women were now standing. He shook the woman’s hand and ruffled the head of the young boy before they left the classroom.

  ‘Would you like to come over?’ the teacher asked, smiling kindly.

  She took her seat beside Tim and though they were only separated by inches Catherine could feel the gaping chasm between them.

  Miss Whitney smiled at them both, her green eyes friendly and open. ‘I’d like to congratulate you both on your lovely daughters.’

  Catherine felt Tim’s chest expand slightly with pride, whereas despite Miss Whitney’s best efforts to put them at ease she still felt as though she was back at school.

  ‘They’re both very bright young girls but I do have one or two concerns. Lucy is the quieter of the two and her interaction with the other children is often reserved. I’m not saying that there’s a major problem, but she only really likes to partake in activities that don’t include being part of a group. Singular activities such as painting she absolutely excels at but she struggles to take part in group games.’

  ‘She’s just shy,’ Catherine defended.

  ‘There are other shy children in the class, Mrs Richards, but none quite so isolated as Lucy. Jess, on the other hand, is the complete opposite, umm… too much so if I can be honest.’

  Despite the teacher’s smile, Catherine felt her heckles rising. Who the hell was this woman to start judging her children?

  ‘Jess is constantly in the mix of everything that’s going on. Unlike Lucy she hates the solitary activities. She has a lot of energy and a need for attention—’

  ‘She is not spoilt,’ Catherine exploded. Tim cast a warning glance in her direction.

  Miss Whitney shook her head. ‘I’m not inferring that she is. It is often the case with twins that their personalities can be extreme, but Jess does seem to demand a lot of attention, be it positive or otherwise, and sometimes she can be a disrupt
ive influence on the rest of the class.’

  ‘So, you’re saying that she’s naughty?’

  Miss Whitney frowned, as though somehow her words were changing into something else once they’d left her mouth.

  ‘Jess isn’t a naughty child. She has lots of energy and I’m sure if it was channelled in the right direction she’d be a much—’

  ‘Miss Whitney, I am not going to listen to any more of this rubbish. My children are not dysfunctional. They are completely normal six-year-olds,’ she said rising out of the chair.

  Miss Whitney looked towards Tim beseechingly. Catherine saw that her raised voice had caught the attention of the girls.

  ‘Sit down,’ Tim ordered, with steel in his voice. Catherine sat.

  ‘As I said before, both Lucy and Jess are wonderful girls and a delight to teach. My only concern is that their social skills are quite limited.’ Seeing the granite look on Catherine’s face she moved on swiftly. ‘On a more positive note, Jess absolutely excels in physical activity. She loves to run and play games and invariably beats the rest hands down.’

  Tim nodded knowingly and shared a smile with the young teacher. Catherine felt annoyed and excluded.

  ‘She has a particular love of gymnastics and it’s something I’d like her to pursue during this new school year.’

  ‘She’s the same at home. She can form herself into all sorts of shapes,’ Tim replied.

  Catherine smiled despite the fact that she hadn’t seen any of these shapes.

  ‘Now, on to Lucy.’

  Catherine heard a subtle change in the teacher’s voice. Almost like she’d presented the starter and it was time for the main course.

  ‘I’d like to show you something.’ She reached in her drawer and extracted an exercise book. She opened it a few pages in and turned the book to face them.

  ‘What is it?’ Catherine asked.

  ‘I asked the class to paint a picture of the planet earth. As you can see from Lucy’s picture she went much further than that. She looked at the picture on the wall and produced the entire solar system.’

 

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