Martha opened her mouth to speak but Lilian got there first. “I told you I didn’t want her near them.”
“Why not?” Will asked. “She’s good fun. She made Auntie Martha read in the middle of the football pitch. We painted a dragon’s head, and Zelda read for everyone on the promenade.”
Lilian’s eyes hardened. “Thank you very much, Martha, for defying me.”
“I didn’t mean to. I couldn’t think of another way. I’m really sorry—”
Her sister turned away. “Wait for me outside Chichetti’s,” she ordered Will and Rose over her shoulder. “I’ll get the car.”
The kids trudged away, each casting Martha a rueful smile.
“Please come and meet her, Lilian. There’s so much for us to talk about,” Martha pleaded. “We both thought she was dead.”
“It might be better if she was.”
Martha felt anger flare in her chest. She took hold of her sister’s arm. “How can you say that? Mum and Dad are gone, but she’s still here. She’s the only relative we have left. She tried to come back into our lives, Lilian, but Mum and Dad wouldn’t let her.”
Lilian spun back. “You have no idea the amount of trouble that woman caused. It was better she left, no matter how it happened.”
“We loved her. Mum loved her. I don’t know why our parents lied to us. They told us she was dead, but it wasn’t her fault. Dad probably caused all this...”
“Don’t ever speak about him like that,” Lilian hissed.
“He ruled our lives. You managed to escape. We can’t blame Nana for doing the same.”
“Dad might have been set in his ways, but he always did his best for us.”
“Everything had to be his way. I know, Lilian. I looked after him for years, on my own.”
“That’s not my fault.”
“Yes, but you could have helped more.” Martha was entering a conversation that she didn’t want to have. Words of frustration she’d held inside for years were beginning to boil and spill out. “You met Paul, but I gave up Joe, to be there for them. I gave up my own chance of happiness. I lost my identity and Zelda has helped me to find it again.”
“You have no right, speaking like that.”
Martha kept her arms ramrod straight by her sides. “I have every right. I’m the one who cooked and cleaned for Mum and Dad. I made their breakfast every morning and put them to bed every night.”
Lilian’s cheeks glowed scarlet. “You think you’re a saint, Martha. A real do-gooder. Well, there’s one thing you should know, before you try and write a happy story with Zelda as your heroine.”
Martha jutted her chin. “Go on then. What is it?”
The two women stood with their faces close together, almost nose to nose. Martha could feel her sister’s breath, hot on her cheeks.
Lilian glanced quickly at Zelda, then away again. “I—”
“Go on,” Martha said. “Tell me, Lilian. Then I need to make sure that our grandmother is okay. I’ll take her back to the house where I cared for our parents, for fifteen years—”
“Oh, stop with the dramatics, Martha.” Lilian’s top lip curled. “Thomas Storm wasn’t even your real bloody father.”
Martha froze. Everything seemed to stop around her. Sounds and people were wiped away. “What?” She frowned. “What did you say?”
“You heard me.” Lilian held her coat tight to her neck and couldn’t meet Martha’s eyes. “Thomas Storm wasn’t your real dad.”
31
Party
Betty, 1982
Betty set the table for her and Thomas’s anniversary party using an old tea service that once belonged to Eleanor. The saucers were adorned with fussy pink flowers and the cup handles were too small. They weren’t to Betty’s taste. However, Thomas was proud of the set. It had been a wedding present from his parents.
“They’ve been happily married for over fifty years,” he announced proudly, as he watched Betty straighten a cup. “Let’s hope we make it to a half century, too.”
Betty found a small smile.
Even though her own mother was coming to the party, she would be glad when the evening was over.
* * *
Thomas had brought home an anniversary cake. It had fuchsia-pink icing and was studded with white flowers. If Zelda had bought it, he would have declared it tacky. However, because he’d selected it, he said it was exquisite. “Don’t scrimp,” he said when he gave her a roll of ten-pound notes to buy food.
When Betty handled the money, she felt quite giddy at having so much to spend, for once. She bought the most expensive cheddar from the grocer’s shop and salmon from the fishmongers.
Now she placed lettuce, tomatoes and cucumber in a bowl and sprinkled them with cress. She made sausages and pineapple on sticks, and homemade sausage rolls. When Thomas said his mother preferred the tomatoes cut into eight rather than four pieces, Betty fished them back out of the salad bowl and did as he asked.
After she finished, Thomas surveyed the table. “It looks wonderful,” he said, kissing her on the forehead. “Well done. I think my parents will see now that the decision I made to marry you was the right one.”
Betty cleared her throat. “Why? Did they ever think otherwise?”
Thomas presented one of his long silences. “Let’s not talk about that now.”
Snatching up her action list, Betty gave her tasks a green tick. “Can you help me out with the desserts? I’ve got an apple pie to make, and a rhubarb crumble.”
Thomas hesitated. Wincing, he reached up and massaged his temples with his fingertips. “Ouch.”
“Are you okay?”
“I’ve got a migraine. A real humdinger. Today of all days.”
Betty wrinkled her nose sympathetically. “Martha’s not feeling well, either. She’s all shivery.”
“Where is she?”
“In bed, in her pajamas.”
“I’ll tell her to get up and dressed. Mum and Dad will expect to see her.”
“Hmm, okay, but she doesn’t look well at all.”
“She’ll be fine when I’ve spoken to her.” Thomas slipped his arm around Betty’s waist. “It will be a lovely evening, won’t it? My family, and Anthony...”
“And don’t forget that Mum is coming, too...”
A shadow seemed to fall across Thomas’s face. “Oh yes,” he said. “How on earth could I forget that?”
* * *
Thomas tried to persuade Martha to come downstairs, but her forehead was hot and sticky. She had a fever and had been sick in the bathroom. Thomas used half an air freshener as he huffed and puffed about the smell.
“Perhaps I should take her to the doctor,” Betty mused, looking up at the ceiling.
“She’ll be fine,” Thomas said. “Everyone will be here within an hour. You don’t have time.”
“I’ll have to keep a close eye on her.”
“Don’t forget that you need to look after our guests, too.”
* * *
Thomas’s family arrived together, in a taxi from their hotel. Betty stood ready, by the door. She smiled and kissed cheeks, she cooed at brooches and dresses and hung up coats. Thomas paced the dining room with his hands behind his back. He dealt out handshakes to everyone, and his mother got a kiss to her cheek. He insisted that everyone admire a new blue dress he’d bought for Lilian.
“And where’s our Martha?” Dylan looked around.
“Oh, she’s got a bug.” Thomas shrugged. “I don’t want her passing it on to anyone.”
Betty was relieved when her mother turned up on time. Zelda brought a good bottle of white wine and a classy box of chocolates. “Eleanor,” she announced when she spotted Thomas’s mother. “How delightful to see you again.”
Anthony was the last to arrive, fifteen minutes late. “A busy day at the office,�
�� he said as he handed his coat to Betty. He was balding with a horseshoe of black hair. He wore round black-rimmed glasses on the end of his nose. “It’s getting too much for me and I need to think about my retirement soon. Succession planning is a must.”
Thomas smiled to himself as he pulled out the chair for his boss.
“This all looks very delightful, Betty. Very, very nice,” Anthony said. Fixing his eyes on Zelda, his lips twitched into a smile. “And how wonderful you could make it, too, Ezmerelda. It’s such a pleasure to see you again.”
From across the table, Zelda smiled sweetly. “For me, too, Anthony,” she said. “You haven’t changed a bit.”
Everyone filled their plates with food except for Eleanor, who took only the smallest amount of salmon. Anthony dug into the sandwiches, piling them into a pyramid on his plate. Betty limited herself to two small sausage rolls and a few crisps.
Before she started to eat, she allowed herself an inward sigh of relief. Her mother was behaving charmingly this evening. She hadn’t sniped at Thomas, or rolled her eyes once, though she had already moved on to her second glass of wine.
And Thomas was being gracious, too, though Betty could tell he was still suffering from his migraine. His face was pallid and lips pursed. Occasionally, he closed his eyes and pressed a hand to his forehead.
The nine of them made conversation together about the weather and Lilian’s schoolwork. Thomas and Dylan discussed accountancy. Trevor’s fiancée, Teresa, was a small, dithery woman who Betty felt instantly protective of, but who she couldn’t manage to talk to because of the seating arrangements. She tried to spark a random conversation about the engagement but no one else joined in. Lilian enjoyed the attention of the group. She played with her blond hair and giggled.
Anthony bit into a sandwich, a piece of grated cheese sticking to his top lip. He eyed Zelda. “It’s lovely we’re celebrating sixteen years of wedded bliss, for Thomas and Betty. Sadly, me and my wife have parted ways. It’s not a pleasurable situation. Are you single, too, Ezmerelda?”
Zelda gulped a third glass of wine. “I think I need the toilet,” she announced loudly and stood up. “I’ll call in and see Martha.”
As she left the room, Betty saw her shoot out a hand and pick up a half-full bottle of wine.
For the next twenty minutes, Betty’s nerves prickled. She laughed, she smiled and she helped to serve food, but all the time she wondered where her mother had got to.
Thomas caught her eye, tapped his watch and pointed upward.
Betty stood up and smoothed down her dress. “I’ll just be a moment. I’ll see where Mum is.”
She found Zelda and Martha sitting on the bedroom floor, reading a book together. Martha rested her cheek sleepily against Zelda’s shoulder. The bottle of wine, now empty, lay on the carpet. “Tell me that you haven’t given Martha any of that?” Betty demanded.
Zelda batted her hand. “Of course not. It’s too good for children.”
Betty clenched her teeth. “Come on downstairs, Mum. You’ve been gone for a long time.”
“I think I’ll stay here.” Zelda shuddered. “Apologies, Betty, but you married into a very boring family.”
Betty watched Martha trying not to laugh. “Mum,” she warned.
“It’s okay.” Zelda waved her hand. She got to her feet, stumbling a little. “I’ll come back down. I’ll be polite and schmooze Anthony. I’ll behave.”
“Thank you.”
Back at the table, Betty’s spine felt stiff. As she promised, her mother smiled. She stroked Anthony’s arm and engaged Eleanor in a conversation about diamond jewelry. Betty moved a bottle of wine away from her, but Zelda pulled it back again.
When everyone had finished eating, Betty took up a long sharp knife and, using the tip of her forefinger as a guide, poked the tip of the blade into the center of the cake. She was just about to plunge it in when the doorbell rang. Her hand jerked, the knife slipped and she nicked her skin. “Ouch.” A bobble of blood appeared and a drop fell on top of the cake.
Thomas leaped up. He wiped it with a napkin, leaving a red smear on the icing sugar. “Leave the door alone,” he ordered. “Carry on cutting the cake.”
Betty wrapped a napkin around her bloody finger. She carefully pushed the knife down and along, completing the first slice.
The doorbell sounded again.
This time, Zelda pushed her plate away. “It might be for me.”
“You?” Thomas raised an eyebrow. “Why would anyone call here, for you?”
Zelda held his gaze. “I told George that I was coming for tea.”
“Ah, George? Someone else from school, perhaps?” Anthony asked.
“No.” Zelda batted a crumb from her dress. “My new lover. Please excuse me.”
Thomas’s mouth hung open. He scraped his chair away from the table. “Stay there, Zelda.”
Betty felt the atmosphere in the room switch. She glanced at Thomas and watched a bead of perspiration trickle down his forehead. She placed a hand on top of his, but he snatched it away. “Let’s carry on with our tea, shall we?” he said.
The doorbell rang, a further three times in a row.
Zelda stood up. “I’ll get it.”
“No,” Thomas boomed. He hit the table with the flat of his hand. “You won’t.”
Anthony’s eyes shone wide. He fiddled with his watch. “Oh, is that really the time?” he murmured.
Eleanor gave a small beatific smile.
Betty hurriedly cut the cake into ten pieces. “I’ll go and see who it is.”
Before Thomas could object, she slipped out of the room. Winding the napkin tightly around her finger, she opened the door.
A young lady with long platinum-blond hair down to her waist stood on the pavement outside. “Hi,” she said, with a small frown. “Is Ezmerelda here?”
Betty wasn’t sure how to respond. Thomas would not be happy that her mother had arranged for a visitor to call during the tea. She opened her mouth but Zelda appeared in the hallway, behind her.
“You came,” she said, her voice full of joy.
The woman nodded.
“This is my friend, Georgina,” Zelda said to Betty. “I wanted you to meet her.”
“You can call me George,” the woman said and offered her hand. “Or Gina. I use both.”
“George?” Betty repeated as the woman stepped into the hallway. She glared at her mother. “I thought that George was a...”
“You never asked.” Zelda shrugged. “You’ve been too busy, running around after the Lord of the Manor.”
“Now, that’s not fair, Mum. I—” Betty stopped talking as she heard footsteps. Thomas appeared in the hallway with Anthony following close behind him.
“What’s going on?” Thomas’s eyes glinted.
“I asked Gina to call for me,” Zelda said. “This tea thing has gone on longer than I expected.”
Anthony edged towards the door with his back against the wall. “Well, this really has been a most lovely tea, Thomas. Betty, thank you very much.”
“Stay,” Thomas shot out his hand, placing it on Anthony’s arm. “You’ve not had any cake yet.”
“No, I, um, must go. It was lovely to see you again, Ezmerelda.”
“You too, Anthony,” Zelda said, her voice a little too singsong. She slipped her fingers into Gina’s and they held hands. “Come on.” She tugged her towards the dining room.
Betty watched the color drain from Thomas’s face. His cheeks turned from red to white. The air was thunderstorm-heavy as Anthony muttered, “Goodnight now,” and scurried away into the night.
“You’ve forgotten your piece of anniversary cake,” Zelda called after him.
Thomas’s eyes flashed. “Get her out, now.”
Betty gave a short nod. Her knees shook as she followed her mum back
into the dining room.
Zelda stood next to the table. She held on to Gina’s hand, trying to swing it back and fro. Gina wore an embarrassed smile.
Dylan raised an eyebrow and Eleanor smirked. Trevor and his fiancée whispered to each other, and Lilian sat stiffly upright.
“This is my girlfriend, Gina,” Zelda slurred. “Let’s all welcome her to the family.” She swept her finger around each person sitting at the table. “Well, of course, you’re all Thomas’s family, rather than Betty’s. Not that we ever see any of you.”
Betty stepped forward. “Mum. It’s time to go.”
“I’ve not had any cake yet.”
“I’ve got your coat,” Thomas said. He stepped forward and thrust it at her.
Zelda didn’t move to take it, and it fell to the floor.
Betty surveyed the scene. Thomas’s relations were sat in a line like a weird version of the Last Supper. “Perhaps you’d like to go upstairs, Lilian?” she said softly.
But her daughter remained rooted to the spot. Her eyes didn’t move from her grandmother.
“Go home, Zelda.” Thomas rubbed between his eyes.
“There’s a couple of things I’d like to say first,” Zelda slurred. She stared around the table before focusing on Eleanor. “I’ve not been allowed in this house for eons, because of your son. He stops me from buying gifts for the girls. He keeps my daughter as a prisoner—”
“That’s not right, Mum,” Betty protested.
But Zelda nodded sagely. “Yes, it is. I can see things for what they are. For you. For Martha and Lilian. Thomas is only celebrating your anniversary to show off to his snobby family, and to get a promotion—”
“Mum,” Betty said. “Stop it.”
“Shhh,” Zelda held a finger to her lips. “It’s true.”
Betty looked around blindly for her husband.
Thomas moved over and placed his hands on the top of Zelda’s shoulders. A foot taller than her, he physically dwarfed her. He walked forward and maneuvered her toward the hallway.
The Library of Lost and Found Page 24