by Sue Fortin
‘We can take loads of photos while you’re here,’ I say. ‘We can make our own photo album up.’
‘That’s a great idea,’ says Alice enthusiastically. ‘To be honest, I don’t have many photos of me as a child.’ Again, I look in the rear-view mirror. She looks away, out of the window. ‘Dad didn’t take many.’ Her voice has a sadness to it.
‘The girls are looking forward to seeing you,’ I say, to divert the downturn in the mood. I spend the last few miles jabbering on about the girls, what they are like, the things they’ve got up to in the past and how Chloe is the quiet, sensitive one, more cautious in nature and a gentler soul altogether, whereas Hannah is outgoing, fun, adventurous and, at times, rather outspoken.
‘I can’t wait to meet them. I can’t believe I’m an aunt and I have two gorgeous nieces to meet,’ says Alice. ‘And, of course, your husband, Luke. You’re very lucky, you know, to have your family.’
We drive along the winding lane that leads to the house. The flint wall marking the start of the grounds, running along the edge of the pathless road to the black gates.
‘Does it look familiar, at all?’ asks Mum. I think she’s desperate for Alice to have even the faintest memory from her childhood.
‘A little,’ says Alice. ‘I do remember the black gates. For some reason they stand out in my mind.’
I steer the car through the gates and up the gravel driveway. Luke and the girls must have heard the car as they come out to greet us. Luke has plastered on a smile and looks welcoming enough, although I can tell it’s his formal smile. Perhaps he’s not as laid back about it after all. Mind you, we are all on tenterhooks. Tiptoeing around certain subjects in the car, analysing every word, facial expression and body language. I’m sure we will all relax once we get to know each other better.
Alice is out of the car and immediately she goes over to the girls and, crouching down, hugs Hannah first. Hannah looks slightly taken aback and I make eye contact with her over Alice’s shoulder. I raise my eyebrows and smile broadly, it’s an unspoken message Hannah will understand: one I’ve used before which reads – be polite and say nice things. Hannah obliges and smiles at Alice, who then turns her attentions to Chloe. My younger daughter hides behind Luke.
‘Say hello to Alice,’ says Luke, but Chloe clings tighter.
‘It’s okay, she’s just shy. There’s plenty of time to make friends,’ says Alice. She stands up and faces Luke, who holds his hand out to her.
‘I’m Luke. Clare’s husband. Nice to meet you.’
She shakes Luke’s hand. ‘Alice Kendrick. The pleasure is all mine.’ She gives a small laugh. ‘Now we’ve got the formal English greeting over with, how about a good old American hello?’ She lunges forward and gives Luke a hug. ‘It’s so nice to be here,’ she says.
It’s Luke’s turn to look over at me from Alice’s shoulder. He has a help me look on his face. I smother a laugh and Mum admonishes me with a tap on the arm. Luke winks at me and removes himself from Alice’s embrace.
‘Right, let’s get inside,’ says Mum. ‘You must be worn out, darling. Luke, can you bring Alice’s bags in, please?’
Mum and Alice head off into the house. Luke gives a tug of his fringe, dipping his head at the two departing women. ‘Yes, m’lady.’ Mum appears not to hear, thankfully.
‘Stop it,’ I say, half-heartedly. I go over to Luke and give him a kiss. ‘Well, it seems the ice has been broken. How about I give you a good old American hello?’ I put my arms around his neck and kiss him again.
‘Better not let your mother see you fraternising with the staff,’ says Luke, returning the kiss. ‘As for the American hello, I’ll give you a traditional Tennison hello later.’ He gives my backside a playful smack as he sidesteps out of my arms and goes to fetch Alice’s bags.
I’m smiling to myself as I turn to go in. As I look up, I see Alice standing at the doorway watching us. I shield my eyes from the early morning sun with one hand and wave to her with the other. She smiles broadly and returns the wave before disappearing inside the house. It’s a much more comforting sight than when I last saw her in the doorway. I give my head a small shake and push the sad memory away. The cold days are in the past. The sun is shining and I feel a warmth within me that has been overshadowed for many years but now is finally breaking fee.
Later that evening, when the girls have gone to bed, Hannah being allowed to stay up a bit later than usual because of our guest. Luke tactfully makes his excuses about needing to get some more work done, to leave me, Mum and Alice alone in the living room.
‘I’ll make us some supper,’ says Mum. ‘I’ve got some cheese and crackers. Do you want tea, Clare? Coffee, Alice?’
We both thank Mum and for the first time since Alice arrived, over twelve hours ago, we are on our own.
‘So, how long have you guys been married?’ asks Alice.
‘Oh, erm … must be coming up for eight years now.’
Alice cocks her head. ‘Eight? And how old is Hannah?’
‘Seven. I was four months pregnant when we got married.’ I’m not embarrassed at all by this. It’s not exactly shocking news these days. I suppose it’s only natural that she’s curious about her new family, but all the same, I feel strangely uncomfortable that she might be judging me as she does the maths.
‘Oh, I see,’ she says and smiles knowingly.
‘We would have got married whether I was pregnant or not,’ I add hastily, wishing she’d take that look of amusement off her face. ‘We’d only just started going out but we always say we knew from about our third date that we wanted to be together. It just felt right.’
‘Love at first sight,’ says Alice. ‘Or was it lust?’
I laugh. ‘Too close to call.’
‘Did you have a big church wedding?’ Alice looks over towards the sideboard and scans the various photographs on my own personal rogue’s gallery. They are mostly of the girls with a couple of Mum and one or two of Luke and me. Photographs taken by Luke at birthdays, on walks, on the beach, just snapshots catching everyday events with a naturalness you don’t get with posed studio photos. I suppose it’s the artistic eye he has, where he can capture those special moments, just one photograph of his can say so much.
‘No church wedding,’ I say. ‘Funnily enough, it was Luke who wanted a white wedding but I didn’t want a big fuss. We had a registry office wedding. Very small affair. Family and close friends. We did have a party afterwards, though.’ I get up and go over to the sideboard, picking up a silver frame with a picture of Luke and me on our wedding day. Not that you would have guessed. We just look as if we’re going to a dinner dance. Luke’s wearing a dark-blue suit, pale-blue shirt with a white button-down collar and skinny blue tie and I’m wearing a cream-coloured evening dress with spaghetti-thin straps, a neckline that drapes in delicate folds across my bust. The dress, cut on the bias, reaches the ground. On my wrist I’m wearing a blue corsage to match Luke’s tie.
I pass the photo frame to Alice and she studies the picture. ‘Luke hasn’t changed a bit. Neither have you, actually. And you wouldn’t know you were pregnant. There’s no trace of a bump there.’
‘I was very small. First-time pregnancy and tight stomach muscles. Lucky, I suppose.’
Alice looks me up and down as she hands back the photograph. ‘Still very slim now.’
‘As are you,’ I say, with a smile, replacing the photo frame back on the sideboard. ‘It must be genetic.’
‘Yeah, I guess it is. Did anyone know you were pregnant when you got married?’
I sit back down, wishing she would drop the cross-examination, but I feel obliged to answer. ‘No. We never told anyone. Not even Mum. We waited until after the wedding and then told her.’
‘And she was okay about it?’
‘She didn’t have a lot of choice.’ I lower my voice. ‘She was more annoyed I hadn’t told her straight away. She couldn’t understand why we wanted to get married so quickly. Anyway, after all the fu
ss had died down, she could not have been happier. She adores the girls.’
‘Your girls are wonderful, as is your mum, I mean, our mum. Luke is pretty awesome too. You have a great family,’ says Alice. Her words are tinged with sadness and I immediately feel guilty for the burst of pride her remark brought.
‘We’re all family now,’ I say. ‘All of us.’
‘Family. All of us. I like that,’ she says, as the corners of her mouth tip to a smile. ‘Family.’
Chapter 8
Are you sure you can’t take any time off work?’ asks Mum as we sit down on Sunday morning to have breakfast. Sundays are a much more relaxed affair. There’s no set time for breakfast; we all just get up when we want. The girls have been up for over an hour and already had their fill of cereal and toast. They’re now in the sitting room, Hannah watching TV and Chloe amusing herself with her play-kitchen. I’m not one of those parents who insists they do something structured and educational every minute of their waking hour.
‘I’m sorry, Mum, but I really can’t,’ I say spreading some marmalade on my toast. ‘I’ve a big court date coming up next month. It’s really important and I can’t take any time off at all.’ I pour a cup of tea. ‘We can have a nice day out today, though. I thought we could all go into Brighton. Show Alice the sights.’
Mum’s disappointed look makes way for a smile. ‘That’s a good idea. We could take her to all the places I used to take you two as children. It may jog her memory. There’s the seafront, the pier, the lanes. We could get fish and chips and an ice cream. The girls will enjoy it too. Yes, let’s do that.’
I smile at Mum and reach over, putting my hand on her arm. ‘Mum, you know Alice was very young when she was here – she may not remember anything at all.’
‘I know that.’ Mum pats my hand.
‘I just don’t want you to be too disappointed or to be putting pressure on anyone.’
‘Ooh, looks like I’ve timed this just right. Morning all.’ Luke comes into the kitchen and, with acrylic-covered fingers, swipes a slice of toast from my plate. Blues, greens and yellows make his hands look as if they’re covered in bruises. He’s had another night of working on his new commission. He drops a kiss on my head. ‘How are you?’
‘All good, thanks. How’s the painting coming on?’ I say as I watch Luke pad over to the kettle.
‘Anyone want a cup?’ he asks. ‘Marion?’
Mum shakes her head. ‘No thanks. Put a cup out for Alice, though, I’m sure she’ll be up soon.’
‘Painting is going great, Babe,’ says Luke. He comes to sit down beside me at the table. ‘What’s on the agenda today?’
‘Thought we’d go to Brighton. Show Alice the sights,’ I say. ‘You coming? Or do you need to get on with your work?’
‘No, I’ll come. I’ve had enough for a while. I could do with a break and some fresh sea air. It will be nice to spend some time with you all.’
It’s not long before Alice comes down. I can’t help raise my eyebrows slightly and exchange a discreet look with Luke. Alice is wearing just an over-sized T-shirt, except, in my opinion, it could do with being a bit more over-sized. Of course, she’s got the legs for it. Very American; long and tanned as opposed to my own – long they may be, but as white as two pints of milk. She leans forward to kiss Mum on the cheek and her T-shirt rides up slightly. Luke averts his eyes and makes a big deal out of putting another spoon of sugar in his cup.
‘Good morning, everyone,’ she says, standing up and running her hand through her hair, dragging it loosely from her face and letting it fall again.
‘Good morning, darling,’ says Mum. ‘Did you sleep all right? Wasn’t too hot or too cold? Was the mattress okay for you?’
Alice smiles fondly down at Mum. ‘Sure, the bed was fine. I guess the jet lag is starting to catch up on me.’
Mum pulls out the chair beside her. ‘Here, sit down. What would you like for breakfast? There’s toast, cereal, some pastries. Clare, be a love and make Alice a cup of coffee. It is coffee you want, isn’t it?’
Alice smiles and nods. ‘That would be awesome. Thanks, Clare. It’s really kind of you.’
‘No problem,’ I say, ignoring the rueful smile on Luke’s face as I put down my toast.
‘Could I have some toast as well, please?’ says Alice. ‘I don’t suppose you have any peanut butter and jelly,’
‘I think there’s some jam.’ I rummage in the cupboard. ‘Here you go.’
Alice picks up the jar and, opening the lid, examines the contents. She screws her nose up. ‘I’ll take a raincheck.’ She looks up at me. ‘It’s got bits in it.’
It strikes me that Alice is being ever-so-slightly fussy, but I let it go. ‘There’s always Marmite,’ I say, as I go about making a coffee for her. .
‘Marmite?’ says Alice.
‘Don’t even go there,’ says Luke. ‘We’ve got jam or marmalade. They’re a much safer bet.’
‘Maybe, Luke, you could have a look online to see whether we can get the peanut butter and jelly for Alice,’ says Mum as I come back with my sister’s drink.
‘I’m sure we’ve got something Alice will like,’ I say. Luke really doesn’t need to go off on a wild-goose chase for Alice’s American tastes. He’s very obliging towards Mum, but sometimes I think she takes it for granted. I return to the cupboard and start pulling out various jars, the clonk of the glass on the granite work surface representing my irritation. ‘Marmalade. Nutella. Honey.’ I turn to look at Alice.
‘Er, honey will be great,’ she says, flicking a glance towards Luke.
‘Local honey,’ he says, passing the jar over to her. Then, turning, he gives me the eyes, which I return with a shrug and then feel rather embarrassed that my little display of frustration hasn’t gone unnoticed by all the adults in the room.
Fortunately, Mum recovers the situation and starts chatting about the day ahead and what we’re going to do. I brush my little display of petulance away with the toast crumbs and join in the conversation.
Alice seems happy with the plan and is pleased that we are all going out together. ‘Oh, it will be like a proper family outing. Our first real one. One that I can remember, anyway.’
Mum smiles warmly. ‘I can’t tell you how I’ve longed for a day like this.’
‘Me too,’ says Alice.
It’s an unusually warm day for mid-October and just a gentle sea breeze behind us as we stroll along Brighton seafront later. Luke is pushing Chloe in her buggy and Hannah is skipping along beside him. I’m walking alongside Mum, with Alice on the other side. The three of us have linked arms.
‘Do you remember coming here at all?’ Mum asks.
Alice grimaces. ‘Not really,’ she says.
‘What about the pier?’ I ask as we get closer. ‘We used to go there all the time. We’d get ice cream and run up and down looking through the slats of the pier at the water below.’
‘I used to take you down to the amusements at the end of the pier,’ says Mum. ‘You were a bit small for most of the rides, but Clare used to go on some of them. We’d sit there and watch her.’
‘Sorry,’ says Alice. ‘I guess I was too young to remember.’
We carry on walking towards the pier, taking in the scenery. The pebble beach is empty of the summer holiday-makers and the cool autumnal sun shimmers faintly across the grey incoming tide as it laps gently back and forth.
Hannah comes skipping back to us, while Luke waits for us to catch up. ‘Mummy! Mummy! Daddy’s going to take me on the big eye,’ she says excitedly.
Along from the pier is the Brighton i360. A glass pod, which glides up and down a four-hundred-and-fifty-foot pole, offering a three-hundred-and-sixty-degree view over the city and along the coast. Or so I’m told. I’m not great with heights. I’ve been on it once with Luke when it first opened, but hated it so much I spent most of the time with my eyes closed.
‘Oh, wow! Can I come with you?’ says Alice. Hannah looks at me, checking to see
what the right answer is.
‘That would be nice, wouldn’t it? If Alice comes on with you and Daddy?’ I say. We’ve caught up with Luke and, letting go of Mum’s arm, I take the buggy from him. ‘Did you want to go, Mum?’ I ask.
‘Why not?’ says Mum. ‘I keep saying I should go on it.’
I watch the four of them step through the double doors into the glass pod. It reminds me of Stephen Spielberg’s Close Encounters movie. My family have now been abducted by aliens and when they return they will be different people.
While I wait, I buy an ice cream, which I share with Chloe as we sit on a nearby bench. The sun hangs low in the sky and I angle the buggy so that Chloe is not facing into the breeze. The ride takes about twenty minutes and as the pod slowly descends, I walk over and wait near the doors.
Mum and Hannah emerge first, holding each other’s hands. I’m not sure who is helping who down the steps. Hannah sees me and a huge smile spreads across her face. ‘It was great, Mum!’ she shouts as she negotiates the last of the steps.
Behind them are Luke and Alice. They both look over and smile. By all accounts the ride has been a great success. Alice stumbles slightly on the steps. I give a small gasp – it’s the mother in me, I’m sure, as I envisage her falling flat on her face. Luckily, she manages to grab onto Luke to stop herself.
Alice holds onto Luke’s arm as they descend the remaining steps. She’s still holding onto him as they walk towards me. I watch as she leans into him, says something and they both laugh again.
I’ve never been the jealous type. Never had to be, I suppose, but today some strange sort of feeling stirs within my stomach and shoulder-charges my heart. I suddenly have this proprietorial basic instinct surge up within me. I’m not sure why, maybe it’s the way Alice looks so at ease with Luke, as if it’s the most natural thing in the world for her to be linking arms with him. Whatever it is, I don’t like it. Alice looks up and we make eye contact. Outwardly, I can feel my mouth moving into a smile. Inwardly, my face has contorted into something resembling the Incredible Hulk.