by Fern Britton
‘What work did he do?’
‘He was a young magician,’ she told them.
‘Wow. Was he handsome?’ asked Ella.
‘I thought so.’
‘Describe him to me. Or do you have a picture of him?’
Sennen could see the dreams in Ella’s eyes. ‘No, I don’t have a picture, but he had long curly hair and always wore a leather jacket and jeans. He rode a motorbike.’
‘Sounds very romantic,’ said Ella.
‘Oh, puh-leeze,’ scoffed Henry. ‘Sounds a complete tosser.’
Ella turned on him. ‘Maybe that’s where you get it from.’
‘Stop it,’ Sennen said loudly, exerting some maternal authority. ‘This isn’t easy for any of us.’
Deborah put down her teacup. ‘I think it’s time for a break. Sennen, would you like to get some fresh air?’
Sennen fidgeted with her hands then picked up her bag, ‘Yes. That’s a good idea.’
When they’d gone, Ella began to chew her hair and Henry anxiously jiggled his legs.
Kit was thinking. ‘Is she telling the truth, do you think?’
‘Of course she is,’ Ella said swiftly.
Henry stretched across the table and crammed a small cucumber sandwich into his mouth. ‘It’s all very Mills and Boon. Long hair, leather jacket, motorbike. What a knob. I’m not sure I believe her.’
Kit frowned. ‘Actually, I believe I do.’
Ella clutched his hand and kissed him. ‘Thank you! Oh, thank you, Kit.’
Sennen and Rosemary were sitting outside the hotel on a comfortable swing chair. Deborah had made for the loo and Rosemary had brought a glass of wine and a cigarette out with her. She shook the packet towards Sennen. ‘They’re not the menthol we used to smoke, but would you like one?’
Sennen almost laughed. ‘Yes, but I haven’t smoked in decades and I’m worried I’ll be sick.’
‘How is it going?’ asked Rosemary inhaling deeply.
‘Henry hates me,’ said Sennen.
‘He’s a little boy lost, that’s all. He has memories, however deep, of you and him together.’
‘I don’t know.’ Sennen picked at the chair cushion. ‘He doesn’t want me here.’
‘Oh, he does. If you were to pick him up in your arms now and hold him tight, he’d burst into tears for missing you.’
‘If I thought that was true, I’d do it.’
‘Don’t fight him. Stay calm. Be honest. You are the parent here. And don’t you forget it.’
‘I think it’s too late for that.’
Deborah came back with freshly powdered nose and lipstick. Shall we go back?’
Sennen nodded. ‘Yep.’
As Sennen stood, Rosemary said cheerfully, ‘I’ll have a large margarita for you as soon as it’s over. Tequila is a cure-all.’
‘I’ll need it.’
Rosemary patted her arm. ‘Once more into the fray, old friend. Once more.’
Back at the table, Sennen saw how depleted the sandwiches and scones had become. ‘I’m glad you’ve had something to eat.’
‘I saved you a scone.’ Ella pushed a plate towards Sennen.
‘Thank you.’ Sennen was touched. ‘I will in a minute, after I’ve told you more about your father.’ She sighed, a deep slow sigh and began again. ‘After you were born, Henry, I had no idea where …’ She stumbled over the name. ‘Where Alan was. I went back to school to do my exams and Granny and Poppa looked after you. The doctor had said that I needed to be able to get a good job after school so that I could look after you properly and they agreed with him. But,’ her throat was again tight with tears, ‘then, Alan came back to Trevay. To the theatre. It was only for one night. I was working as an usherette and saw him afterwards.’
‘And you couldn’t keep your knickers on?’ sneered Henry.
Sennen ignored him. ‘And I was so pleased to see him. We met after the show and yes, he and I made love. He asked me to come to the Starfish the next morning and that’s when I brought you to meet him, Henry, but he had already—’
‘Pissed off,’ Henry said with less antagonism than before. ‘What a charmer.’
‘Yes,’ Sennen rubbed her forehead, ‘and I decided, very naively I admit, that I would go and find him and tell him about you, but I didn’t know that you, Ella, were already on the way. When I did, I waited until you were born and safe with Mum and Poppa and then, knowing that he was in Spain … I went to find him.’
Ella burst into tears.
25
Deborah discreetly left the table and went to fetch Rosemary. ‘I think you may be needed.’
Rosemary did the only sensible thing anyone could do in the circumstances and ordered two margaritas, one for herself and one for Sennen, and a bottle of wine with four glasses for the others. ‘Send them to the party in the bar, would you?’ she told the waiter and went to see for herself what was happening.
Sennen was comforting Ella. ‘I was so happy to know you were coming. I was.’ She rocked her daughter gently in her arms. ‘It was a wonderful feeling, and when you were born, Poppa and I had the idea to give you Granny’s name. But two Adela’s would be confusing so we called you simply Ella instead.’
‘He always told me that,’ sniffed Ella.
‘Here,’ Sennen gave her her own crumpled tissue, ‘wipe your nose.’
‘So that’s why you went? To find Alan and tell him about us?’
‘Yes. And I regret it. Leaving you was the most terrible thing I have ever done.’
‘Did you find him?’ Henry asked.
Sennen shook her head. ‘No.’
‘Oh, Mum. How awful for you.’ Ella was holding Sennen. ‘Did you ever find out where he was?’
‘No, darling,’ Sennen said gently, ‘I never spoke to him again.’
Rosemary and the drinks arrived. ‘Somewhere in the world the sun is over the yardarm and you all look as if you need a drink.’
Henry looked at her darkly. ‘Who actually are you?’
‘I am the girl who ran away with your mother to look for your father. Here, have a glass of wine.’
Henry took the glass she offered him, dumbstruck.
‘It takes a lot of guts to do what Sennen did,’ said Rosemary ‘And a lot of guts to come back and tell you both about it. She has thought about you every day of her life. Can you say the same?’
‘What do you know about it?’ Henry jeered. ‘You’ve appeared from nowhere and now you’re telling us you know all about it.’ Henry took another large mouthful of wine and reached again for the bottle.
‘We went to Spain, got jobs, found a place to live, a revolting little squat but it was safe enough. Your mum was determined to find your father and bring him home to you. All she wanted was to make you into one happy family.’
‘Where did you look?’ Ella asked Sennen.
‘The theatres. I knew he was touring in Spain. I thought I had found him but …’ The image of Ali’s cold face refusing to acknowledge her at the stage door, the woman calling him, telling him to hurry up and get back for the babysitter, flashed jaggedly in her brain. She swallowed hard, wanting to tell the truth but still protect her children. ‘I thought I had found him but it was not him. The man I found was married with his own children.’
‘Why didn’t you come home then?’ asked Henry.
Sennen had no answer. ‘I don’t know. I wasn’t thinking straight.’
‘But Rosemary came home,’ said Ella. ‘Why didn’t you come home with her?’
‘I was too afraid …’ offered Sennen.
‘No,’ said Rosemary, ‘you were brave. Braver than me. I was homesick, desperate to come home.’ Rosemary looked at Henry and Ella. ‘Sennen took me to the ferry. I thought she was coming home with me, but she decided not to and I left her. I never should have come back without her, but I did, and it’s something I have regretted always.’
She turned to Sennen. ‘I am so sorry I left you.’
‘This is all very to
uching,’ Henry refilled his wine glass, and pointed it at Rosemary, ‘but after you’d dumped your best mate and come back why didn’t you tell anyone where she was? The police could have picked her up.’
‘I did tell them, Henry,’ Rosemary said. ‘And I brought back the news that she was okay, presents for you two and a message about how much she loved you.’
Ella, hands in her lap, was leaning forward on her knees, hungry for more. ‘Did you bring the presents back?’
‘Oh yes. As soon as I got off the boat in Plymouth, I rang the police to tell them where I was and they took me straight to your house so that I could tell your grandparents that Sennen was safe and deliver the presents. You were very little, only just walking. I don’t suppose you’d remember.’
‘I do,’ said Henry his eyebrows wrinkling in his effort to recall. ‘Ella got something pink and fluffy, and I got a dragon, with silvery wings.’
‘Yes,’ said Sennen, remembering. ‘Did you like them?’
Henry’s face was a mixture of confused emotions, then his face crumpled. ‘I did – but Poppa put them in the bin.’
A fresh pain of parental abandonment skewered Sennen.
Rosemary passed her a glass. ‘Drink your margarita,’ she advised.
Sennen took a sip and said, ‘Ella, Henry – did you get my postcards? Birthday and Christmas cards?’
They looked at her blankly. ‘No.’
Deborah cleared her throat. ‘I may be able to help. During Mrs Tallon’s last illness, she asked her previous solicitor, old Mr Penhaligon, to collect several items from the house and take them to the office for safe-keeping. They remain in my care. One is a shoebox which holds many items of correspondence.’
Sennen put her hand to her chest, tears springing into her eyes. ‘So she kept them?’
‘It would appear so.’
‘But she couldn’t show them to the children or to Poppa because he couldn’t bear anything about me to be in the house?’
Deborah nodded. ‘It sounds harsh, but is a likely scenario, yes.’
‘Can I see them?’ Sennen’s voice was shaky.
‘Yes. They are among her personal affects which are now, legally yours.’
Sennen was now weeping soundlessly. Fat, glistening tears slid over her bottom lashes and made their way over her cheeks and into the creases around her mouth, then down to her chin where they hung like crystals before falling to her lap. ‘I’m so sorry I wasn’t here when they died.’ Her voice was small and pleading. ‘I wish I had known. I could have told them how much I loved them, thanked them for looking after all the mess I left them in.’
Henry crossed his arms tight over his chest and looked at the floor. Ella didn’t know what to do. Her instinct was to go to her mother and hold her, but Sennen looked so vulnerable and withdrawn that she daren’t touch her.
Eventually Sennen looked up and asked Deborah, ‘Did your office try to find me?’
Deborah nodded. ‘Of course.’
‘I see.’ Sennen wiped her nose on the back of her hand. ‘I see.’
‘We wouldn’t have wanted you there anyway,’ Henry said.
‘No,’ Sennen replied quietly.
Ella shifted. ‘I would have loved you to come but you had managed to hide yourself so well.’
‘Yes.’
‘I could take you to their graves if you’d like?’ Ella offered softly.
Sennen reached for her bag and, taking out a tissue, blew her nose. ‘That’s kind of you, but I have been to see them. I went yesterday. They are in a beautiful part of the churchyard.’
‘Poppa chose the plots long before he was ill,’ said Ella. ‘He said it would be quiet up there.’
‘It is,’ smiled Sennen sadly, ‘and the inscriptions on their stones are lovely. I was surprised to see that I was included. Whoever did that was very kind.’
Ella glanced at Henry, who had stuffed his head deep into the neck of his sweater. ‘That was Henry’s idea.’
Henry shifted in his chair. ‘And now we come to the reason you are finally here. To collect your money and go.’
‘No,’ Sennen said clearly, ‘No. I came to find you and Ella.’
Henry snorted. ‘Not too hard a job. We were here all the time. Unlike you. Ever since Granny died solicitors’ letters have been chasing you around the world. What did you do? Every time one found you did you run again? Why turn up now if it’s not because you need the money?’
Ella reached out to her mother with longing. ‘Tell us about your life. Where you live. What you do.’
Sennen inhaled deeply and closed her eyes. This was the moment that she had dreaded. She opened her eyes and spoke. ‘Well, I am married. To a lovely man. He’s Indian. A Sikh, actually. We’ve been married for six years. His name is Kafir.’
‘How wonderful,’ Ella said with kindness.
Sennen looked at her gratefully. ‘Yes. I am lucky. We live in a small house in Agra, just the four of us.’
Henry leapt at this. ‘Four of you?’
Sennen’s stomach twisted. ‘Yes. We have a daughter, Aali, and a son, Sabu. Your half-sister and brother.’
Henry sat back in his chair, his glass of wine on his chest. ‘I knew there was something,’ he said slowly. ‘So Granny’s windfall is for them, is it?’
Sennen again shook her head. ‘No. I am here to heal the damage I did.’
‘Ha!’ Henry had a cruel smile on his face. ‘Too late for that, Mother.’
Ella was still taking in the news that she had a brother and a sister. ‘How old are they? The children?’
‘Aali is five and Sabu three.’
‘Are they here? Did they all come with you?’ asked Ella.
‘No.’ But before Sennen could say more, Henry jumped in.
‘So that’s why you’re here.’ Henry sat forward in his chair, his hands gripping the sides. ‘He’s not here because he doesn’t know about us.’
Sennen licked her lips nervously now. ‘Not until a couple of weeks ago.’
Henry narrowed his eyes like a mongoose spying a snake. ‘How did he take the news?’
‘He, erm, he was angry that I hadn’t told him before.’
‘I’ll bet he was,’ drawled Henry. His eyes gleamed. ‘He’d married a liar, hadn’t he? A woman with a very chequered past.’ He drained his wine glass. ‘Poor sucker. I bet he chucked you out – and with nowhere else to go you came back to us.’
‘It’s not like that.’
Deborah put her hand up. ‘Maybe we should stop there.’
Ella was shaken. She clutched Kit’s arm. ‘You all right?’ he asked.
‘Yes.’ She looked at Sennen. ‘Are you okay, Mum?’
Sennen was getting a tissue from her bag. ‘Sure. Yes. I’m fine. I’m just so sorry to have hurt you and Henry. So sorry.’
Henry got to his feet and hissed, ‘God, this is such a joke. This woman,’ he pointed at Sennen, ‘left me when I was a toddler and now, what a surprise, she’s walked out on her next two as well. History repeating itself.’ He picked up his jacket. ‘Come on, Ells, we’re going. Leave her to her own mess.’
‘No,’ said Ella.
Henry shrugged. ‘Fine by me but don’t expect me to offer sympathy when she hurts you again, and she will. I promise.’ He threw two twenty-pound notes on the table. ‘That’s for the wine.’
Without looking back, he walked out of the hotel to find the nearest bar.
Sennen remained in her chair, drained and exhausted and shut her eyes. Pandora’s box was open.
Rosemary called the waiter over and ordered two large margaritas.
Ella looked at Kit, not knowing what to do.
Deborah packed her bag and addressed them all. ‘In my experience, family matters can and do improve. But it takes time.’ She stopped and looked at Sennen. ‘Mrs Tallon-Kaur, don’t take this as a final outcome. With gentle support we will get there. There will be a satisfactory, if imperfect, conclusion, I am certain. Try to get some sleep. Goodbye.�
�
She went to the ladies’ loo and looked at herself in the mirror. She was glad that her professional face remained intact. She liked Sennen, for all her mistakes, and Ella was demonstrably kind and loving. Henry, however, was less than congenial. Behind his handsome face lay a spoiled child. But she vowed that she would do everything in her professional power to make things bearable for them all.
Outside the hotel she set off for the small house she had rented while she looked for one to buy. On the way, she passed the small and lively wine bar where she was becoming a regular. She had refused any of the drink offered at the meeting, but now seriously felt she deserved a drink. At the bar she was welcomed. ‘Hello, Debs. Bit early for you, ain’t it?’ said the chirpy barmaid.
‘Never have I needed a glass of Pinot more, Lily.’ She climbed onto a bar-stool.
Lily opened the glass-fronted wine fridge and reached for a bottle. ‘Small or large?’
‘A pint glass wouldn’t be too big.’
‘You earned your money today, then?’
‘I hope so.’ The large wine glass, frosted with condensation, was begging her to take a sip of its contents. It was cold and fruity, with just the right amount of acid. She licked her lips. ‘God, that’s good. I’ll have a bag of crisps too, please, Lil. Haven’t had a chance to eat today.’ She looked around the bar. ‘Anyone interesting in?’
‘A bit early yet,’ said Lily passing her the crisps. ‘But there is one good-looking bloke here. Never seen him before.’ Lily looked around her. ‘I think he must be in the gents. I hope so. He hasn’t paid yet.’
Henry finished his pee, washed his hands and looked at himself in the mirror. ‘Come on, buddy. You’re a big boy now. Who needs this shit? Get on with your life. She has.’
He dried his hands and walked unsteadily back to his bar-stool.
A petite woman in a business suit had her back to him, talking to the barmaid. He clocked her slim legs in their sensible court shoes and thought he might have a crack at her. He walked towards her as the barmaid nodded in his direction, saying something to the woman, who turned. Deborah, the legal tart. He almost doubled back to the gents but she had seen him. ‘Henry.’ She patted the bar-stool next to her. ‘Join me for a drink?’