The Accidental Mother

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by Rowan Coleman


  When 9:00 A.M. had finally come and normal office hours resumed, Sophie had excused herself from the table and returned to her room, only to find that her cell phone battery was dead. Self-consciously she had slowly descended the stairs, waving at the girls as she fed the B & B’s pay phone with a pound coin and a fifty-pence piece, and dialed Tess’s number.

  “Gosh, I haven’t even got my coffee yet!” Tess had exclaimed breezily. “How’s it going down there? Any progress?”

  Sophie had watched the family of three at the breakfast table, talking and laughing. “Yes,” she’d said with mechanical honesty. “It’s going really well. Things sort of came to a head yesterday. Bella and Louis had a talk—they’re deciding where to live. Bella wanted to stay in the old house at first. But they haven’t made up their minds yet.” Sophie had paused, realizing that she still didn’t know what the two had said to each other on the beach. So many things had happened right after that; she hadn’t had a moment even to draw breath, let alone talk properly to Bella. “They seem much more relaxed together now. Both the children seem to be looking forward to staying down here permanently. I think everything’s going to work out how you wanted, Tess.”

  Louis had looked up at that and caught Sophie’s eye. She had immediately turned her back on his gaze, although she’d thought she could still feel it touching her.

  “…excellent,” Tess had been finishing a sentence.

  “The thing is…,” Sophie had begun. “Something’s come up at work. They really need me back at the office, like yesterday. And I know Louis still has a lot to do down here, what with having to finding a house, solicitors, estate agents, sorting out the girls’ school and nursery and stuff. So I was wondering how long will it be before everything’s finalized?” She’d taken a deep breath. “What I’m trying to say is, Can I leave the girls with him now? Down here?”

  Tess had not answered right away. “Sophie,” she’d said after a moment, her voice weighted with concern. “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing,” Sophie had reassured her far too quickly to be credible. “Everything’s really fine!”

  Again there’d been a moment’s uncertain silence.

  “Do you need to bring the girls back with you, take them away from Louis? You can tell me if there is anything to be concerned about,” Tess had pressed her.

  “No! God, no, not at all, Tess. He’s been fantastic, really. I truly believe he will be a great dad.” She had told Tess the truth, even though every word hurt her. “It’s just…I don’t think they really need me now, and work does. And then there’s Artemis; she really hates it when I’m away, even with Mum looking in on her, so I thought that if it was all right, I could leave them here. Is that okay?”

  “This seems a bit abrupt,” Tess had said, still fishing. “Look, Sophie, if you’ve had another falling-out with Louis, then I’d really like to know—”

  “There’s nothing wrong, Tess, I promise you,” Sophie had said firmly. “The girls will be fine with him. More than that, they will be happy.”

  “And there’s no way you could stay a little longer?” Tess had urged her. “Listen, Sophie, are you sure you just want to go like this? Those children—especially Bella—have come to rely on you. This will still be a difficult enough transition for them, even if things are going well with Louis. I know it must be difficult, but if you could stay just a little longer, I’m sure they would really appreciate it—” The pay phone beeped in Sophie’s ear as she considered what Tess had said.

  “Sophie?” Tess had questioned her.

  “I’m out of money,” Sophie had lied. “I have to go. Thanks for everything, Tess.”

  “But what about the girls?” Tess had said hurriedly. “Think about them, please.”

  “I am thinking about them,” Sophie had said. “I have to go back. I have to go back because of them.”

  But the line had already gone dead.

  When Sophie had turned around, Louis was ushering the girls up the stairs.

  “What did you say to Tess?” he had asked her tensely.

  “I told her I have to go back to London today,” Sophie had said, unable to look at him.

  “You’re leaving today?” Louis had asked her, as if he hadn’t quite heard. Sophie had nodded.

  “Don’t worry,” she’d said. “I didn’t tell her anything.”

  Louis had taken a step closer. “Sophie, don’t leave just because of what happened last night, it was—”

  Sophie had stepped back. She hadn’t wanted him to say that it was nothing, it wasn’t important. “Look,” she had told him before he could complete his sentence, “it’s time for me to go. I should go now before…” She had glanced up at the ceiling. “Before it all gets out of hand. It’s for the best that I go.” Somehow she had managed to tell him three times that she was leaving, but he had still looked as if he didn’t quite believe it. He had probably thought she was making a huge drama out of nothing.

  There had been a long pause, and Sophie had got the sense that Louis had been forming and re-forming sentence after sentence in his head, searching for the appropriate thing to say.

  “You don’t have to say anything,” she had told him.

  He had just bowed his head for a second before looking back at her. “Just don’t lose touch with the girls,” he had said eventually. “They really need you.”

  Sophie had nodded abruptly. “I know they do,” she’d said. And then she’d walked back up the stairs, leaving Louis at the bottom, trying to work out exactly how she was going to say good-bye to Bella and Izzy.

  The motorway was busy, but Sophie weaved confidently between lanes, overtaking truck after truck and, at one point, sitting on the tail of a car until it moved over to let her speed by, the driver mouthing probably justifiable obscenities at her in her rearview mirror. But Sophie didn’t care, she wanted to be home.

  As she had knelt to kiss the girls good-bye, Izzy had wound her arms around Sophie’s neck and whispered in her ear. “Don’t forget, drive specially careful, okay?” repeating the promise that Sophie had made to her before every road trip they took together, regardless of its length and destination.

  “I will,” Sophie had promised her. It was a promise she had broken more or less immediately, and now she felt an irrational pang of guilt. Reluctantly, Sophie curtailed her speed and moved over to the slow lane. It would take her longer to get home, but at least it was one less thing to feel bad about.

  Bella had accompanied Sophie on her final trip to the local grocery store that morning. Sophie had wanted to buy a few cans of Coke and some chocolate for the trip, as she was determined to make it back to London without stopping once and didn’t care if she required junk food to do it.

  They had walked, hand in hand, down the steep hill that the B & B sat on, following the bend of the road into St. Ives, cutting through the steps that led deeper into the town.

  As they had reached the bottom of the steps, they’d paused and looked out to sea.

  “It’s a lovely day today,” Sophie had said. “You can smell spring in the air, can’t you?”

  “Let’s go and look at the waves,” Bella had said, tugging her hand in the opposite direction of the store. Sophie had sensed that Bella wanted to say something, so she did not object. They’d walked toward the sea, and Sophie had followed Bella down the harbor steps onto the beach, relieved to see that the tide was out and the sand was dry.

  “I wanted to make sure that you’re okay with Louis now,” Sophie had said. “I saw you talking, but I never asked you what he said.”

  The breeze had whipped Bella’s hair across her eyes, causing her to clamp her bangs back from her forehead with one palm. Sophie had looked into her brown eyes, which were hardly ever so visible. She was such a beautiful child.

  “Will you stay if I say I’m not happy?” Bella had tested her. Sophie had touched Bella’s cheek. “You know I would,” she had said honestly, despite how much it would have cost her. “But are you?”r />
  Bella had released her hair, crouched down on the sand, and begun to dig up half a shell. Sophie had knelt beside her and watched.

  “He told me he was sorry for everything that had happened, that he’d been a rubbish dad, and that things had happened differently from the way he’d planned but he was here now and he loves us and would always do his best. He said he’d never let us down, not ever.”

  Bella had begun to clean the shell with the hem of her T-shirt. “Sometimes grown-ups do let you down, even when they say they won’t. But it’s still Daddy,” Bella had said as she cleaned. “It’s still Daddy under there. I remember him more now that I’ve met him properly. I’ve missed him. I’m glad we’ve made up.”

  She had handed Sophie the shell—half a clam—rough and graying on the outside, but with soft pink and a gently luminous sheen on its smooth inner surface.

  “Thank you,” Sophie had said, running her thumb over its contours. “So you are happy to stay here with him and Izzy then? What about the house?”

  “I am,” Bella had said slowly. “And we’ve decided to look at other houses and see if there are any that feel right for all of us. But I still don’t want you to go.”

  Sophie had bowed her head. “I have to,” she’d said into the wind.

  “You don’t,” Bella had said, quickly. “I’ve been thinking. I know you have a job and everything, but people have parties in St. Ives all the time. I’m sure you could get a job doing parties here. And Artemis could come and boss Tango around, he’d like that.” Bella had caught hold of Sophie’s wrist and tugged it so that Sophie looked into her face. “Please don’t go, Aunty Sophie, please don’t.”

  “It’s not just work, Bella,” Sophie had said, forcing herself to be hard. “I was only looking after you for a bit and—”

  “But you do love us, though, don’t you?” Bella had asked her anxiously. “You said you did before.”

  Sophie had put her arms around Bella and pulled her half onto her lap where she was kneeling in the sand.

  “I do love you,” she’d said. “Can’t think why, but I do. That won’t change just because I have to go back. We’ll see each other often, and write, and you can send me pictures and phone me and…” She had paused, willing her tears not to fall, willing herself to be strong for Bella.

  Then Sophie had lifted Bella off her lap and turned her around so that they faced each other, both kneeling on the sand, her hands on Bella’s shoulders. “Bella, I have to go back,” she’d said as she pushed herself into a standing position. “There are reasons that you can’t understand…”

  “What reasons?” Bella had demanded, and realizing that none of them were things she could tell a child, Sophie had brushed the sand off her jeans and begun walking back toward the steps that led up to the harbor.

  Bella had caught up with her quickly and hooked her arm through Sophie’s. “What reasons?” she had repeated.

  “Adult reasons,” Sophie had said, hating herself for talking down to Bella. “I have to pay my bills, feed Artemis, look after my mum. Hundreds of reasons. You and Izzy don’t need me now.”

  “But we do! We do still need you!”

  Sophie had stopped in her tracks, hearing the tears in Bella’s voice. She’d looked down at the child; Bella’s cheeks were wet.

  “Please, Aunty Sophie, please, don’t go back and leave us. We do need you,” Bella had pleaded.

  Sophie had wound her arms around Bella and pulled her into a hug. “I have to go,” she’d said.

  “You don’t have to,” Bella had repeated. “Not if you don’t want to.”

  “I do,” Sophie had said, holding back her tears. “I do.”

  Sophie reached London during the peak of the rush hour, rain teeming down. She sat in the tightly packed lanes of traffic, fidgeting with the radio until eventually she turned it off. Home was less than a mile away, but God knew how long it would take to get there. She resisted the urge to rest her head on the steering wheel, or to just get out of the car and walk the rest of the way. She bit down on her rising frustration, and suddenly an image of Louis just before she left, silhouetted against a clear blue sky, flashed in front of her.

  “Don’t want to think about you,” she grumbled under her breath. “Done that already.”

  Twenty-eight

  The heavy scent of the lilies on Sophie’s desk mingled with the fresh spring breeze that drifted through her open office window. Two perks of her new job, fresh flowers twice a week and windows that opened on demand. It was curious that, even after a month, she still didn’t really feel like she belonged at this desk. But no matter what she had tried to do to settle herself back into her old and new life, nothing had quite done the trick so far.

  She hadn’t expected to walk back into a promotion. In fact, it was the last thing she had been thinking about when she’d gone into work that day, just over a month ago. So she had been genuinely surprised when Gillian had called her into her office and broken the good news. “It must feel as if a weight has been lifted,” Gillian had said when Sophie told her about the girls going back home.

  “It does,” Sophie had replied, even though the crushing burden of emotion that had almost overwhelmed her on Porthmeor Beach still seemed to envelop her.

  Gillian had sat her down and made a long speech about loyalty, strength of character, and fortitude, which had begun to swim over Sophie’s head when she heard the word promotion.

  “Promotion?” she had said quickly.

  “Yes,” Gillian had told her. “The time has come for me to take a step back. It’s been hard deciding between you and Eve, but I think you’ve shown how much you can do in difficult circumstances. I think that’s what won me over in the end.” Gillian had stretched out her hand over the desk. “Congratulations Sophie, you’ve got the job.”

  Sophie had imagined this moment for such a long time, dreamed about it, enacted how it would be to hear those words and to know that she had finally reached the pinnacle she had been striving for, and now that it had happened? Well, it wasn’t quite as satisfying as she had imagined. It was Louis’s fault, of course. It was all his fault, he and his children throwing a wrench in the works and upsetting the beautifully oiled machine that had previously been her life.

  “Thank you,” she had told Gillian, smiling at her, although she’d felt as if her lips were stiff and numb. “I’m so happy.”

  The thing to do, Sophie had decided on the way back to her office, was to get as drunk as she possibly could, because that was what people did when they were celebrating. Gillian had asked her to keep the news to herself until she could make a formal announcement to the whole company, so Sophie had told only Cal, which was more or less the same thing as making an informal announcement to the whole company. But she’d had to tell somebody, so that person could tell her how marvelous it was. She’d thought she would believe it then.

  “So tonight we have to go out and celebrate,” she had told Cal intently after he had congratulated her. “We’ve got that accounting firm do, so we can start knocking back the fizz there, and then—what do you think—a club? I know, I’ll call some friends and we can make a night of it. Excellent.”

  Cal had looked confused for a second. “It’s a Monday, Sophie. I’m fairly sure most of the people you know—and by the way, do you actually know any people?—don’t go clubbing on a Monday.”

  Sophie had thought for a moment. Cal was right, she hadn’t seen any of her friends in months, let alone spoken to them on the phone. Now she was back and free again, and she was going to change all that, she was going to change everything. She was going to fill her life up with so many events and nights out and dinners with the girls that she would have no time to think about…well, anything else.

  “You’re right,” she had said. “We’ll just go to that party, and then you and I can go clubbing. I’ll get the several hundred people I know out on Friday night. We can have two parties. Hooray!” Sophie had made two small fists and shaken them w
ith forced enthusiasm.

  “Hooray,” Cal had said, looking slightly frightened.

  It hadn’t really worked out the way Sophie had planned.

  By nine that evening, she had been too drunk to do anything very much other than sleep.

  Fortunately, she was not a noisy drunk, just a dedicated one. So when Cal had found her propped up at the accounting do bar, gazing miserably at the martini she was drinking, he had been able to usher her quietly out the kitchen door and into the back of a cab without any of her clients seeing her condition.

  “What happened to our night of crazy fun?” he had asked her, after he’d told the driver her address. “You are such a lightweight, Sophie. I knew you’d never manage to stay up past ten. I’ll come back with you,” he had sighed. “You need a coffee or thirty.”

  “No, no!” Sophie had flapped her arms in denial. “You gotta stay and sort out the…things…’kay?” She had burped noisily and giggled.

  Cal had rolled his eyes at the anxious-looking cabdriver and climbed into the cab with her.

  “I’ll come right back,” he had said. “Once I’ve got you home.”

  It had been when they were at home and Sophie was stretched out on the comfortable and clean new sofa that she’d bought that Cal had knelt down beside her and asked, “What’s up, Sophie? This isn’t like you. Something’s happened—what is it?”

  “It is like me—this is the new me!” Sophie had declared and then, rather morosely, added, “I hate this new sofa.”

  Cal had sat back on his heels. “Is it because now you’ve got the job you don’t think you can do it?”

  “Don’t be dericiclous…relidiclous…mad,” Sophie had mumbled, deciding it was safer not to attempt any words longer than one syllable.

  “Is it the girls?” Cal had asked, as if he had just experienced a revelation. “You miss the little brats running around trashing the place, don’t you? Your biological clock has sounded the alarm, and you’re panic drinking! Is that it?”

 

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