“Late for a train, are you?” the cabbie asked jovially, turning around to wink at me.
“Something like that,” I smiled tightly. “If you wouldn't mind, you know, putting your foot down a bit.”
“Less haste, more speed,” the cabbie said sagely. “You've heard the story about the hare and the tortoise, I suppose?”
“Please,” I begged. “I really need to see my mum. She's going to be on a train in about ten minutes and …”
“And you want to see her off?” the cabbie asked. “Well, that's nice. In that case, let's get you there a bit quicker, shall we?”
I nodded gratefully; as I did so the car lurched forward then veered to the left and down a side road.
“You're … sure you know where you're going?” I asked tentatively.
“Just you wait and see.” The cabbie's eyes twinkled. “So which platform's she on then?”
I looked at the piece of paper. “Um, I don't know. It doesn't say. It's the Heathrow Express.”
“Heathrow Express? Oh, that's easy.”
The cab sped down another road then turned left again through what looked like the entrance to a car park. “Are we … are we nearly there?”
“Nearly?” the cabbie asked. “Better than that. We are here.”
The car screeched to a halt; sure enough we were in Paddington Station itself, alongside the platform for the Heathrow Express. Throwing money at the driver and shouting my thanks, I jumped out of the cab and raced to the platform, running along the train, peering into each carriage as I went. I had to find her. She had to be there. She just had to be.
And then, suddenly, I saw her. I didn't recognize her at first—her trademark chignon had been replaced by a ponytail that made her look younger somehow, but also more vulnerable. She was sitting on her own, her case at her side, reading a book.
“Mum?”
She didn't hear me. Clearing my throat, I tried again.
“Mum?”
This time she turned around, then her mouth fell open. “Jessica? Jessica, what on earth are you doing here?”
I got onto the train. “Mum, where are you going?”
She looked down furtively. “Jessica, I'm going away. I'm sorry I didn't tell you, but with things as they are I think it's for the best.”
I nodded and sat down opposite her. “About those things,” I said.
“Jessica,” my mother said firmly. “Jessica, you have more important things to worry about than this. Like Max. Go home to him.”
“Why won't you tell me where you're going?”
“I will,” she said. “When I get there, I'll let you know. You can come and visit. We can … spend some time together.”
I nodded again, slowly this time. “You're running away again.”
“Jessica, don't do this. Not now. I don't want to leave you, I really don't, but …”
“But you have to, don't you?” I asked, looking at her intently. “Mum, what happened to the money I gave you?”
Her face blanched slightly. “This is about the money?”
“No. It's not about the money. I just want to know where it is.”
“It's … well I don't have it anymore I'm afraid. You said I could … I mean …” She was looking at me anxiously. “I will pay you back, Jess. You and Max, for your huge generosity. I do appreciate it, so much …”
Her lips were quivering slightly; I took her hand. “Mum, tell me what you did with it, that's all I want.”
“I used it. Like I said I would,” she said, evading my eyes. “I paid off my debts.”
“And yet you're still running.”
“Jessica, you need to get off the train. It's about to leave and you don't have a ticket.”
“So I'll buy one on board,” I said. “Now answer the question.”
“Question?” Mum's voice faltered slightly.
“The money. You didn't pay off your debts, did you?”
“I … I … Yes. I mean, of course. I …” She trailed off, the hint of tears appearing in the corners of her eyes.
I sat back heavily. “You threw away your only chance of happiness for me,” I said quietly. “You could have paid off your debts, married Chester, lived happily ever after.”
“I don't know what you mean,” Mum said. “I didn't leave Chester; he left me.”
“He was hurt. You hurt him. You said you slept with Hugh. Jesus, you even paid him to corroborate it. I mean, that's where he got all his money from, isn't it? I got that right, didn't I?”
My mother's eyes widened. “What?” she asked, then cleared her throat. “I mean, I'm sorry?”
“Please, Mum, enough of the act. I know. I know what you did. You took the blame. You must have read my letter or something, I don't know. And I have no idea how you tracked down Hugh. But I'm right, aren't I? You never slept with him. He had no idea you have a scar on your stomach, and you told Chester he lives in Kensington when he lives in Kennington.”
My mother didn't say anything; she just watched as the doors to the train slowly closed and it pulled out of the platform.
“And he's gay,” I said.
“Gay?” My mother's eyes widened.
“Totally.”
“Ah,” she said. “Ah, I see.”
“Why did you do it?” I persisted. “I don't understand.”
“Don't you?” She smiled, her eyes glistening. “Imagine what it must be like to walk around knowing that you have let your daughter down. That what you've done is unforgivable, that you deserve nothing but her hate or, worse, ambivalence. Then imagine that you get a chance to redeem yourself, just a little bit, a chance to erase some of the hurt. Wouldn't you take it, Jessica? Wouldn't you jump at the chance?”
I stared at her. “That's what this was?”
My mother shrugged lightly. “Not just that, Jessica. I was being a mother. For the first time in my life I saw a chance to do something for you, to protect you, to make everything okay again.”
“But … but …” I said, openmouthed.
“But nothing, Jessica. Consider it my wedding present. Consider it my meager offering.”
“Meager offering?” I tried, and failed, to swallow. “But you let Chester think … He was in love with you. Is in love with you.”
She nodded sadly. “I'm sorry about Chester, I really am. But he'll find someone else. I know he will.”
“And you? What about you?”
“I'll carry on.” My mother smiled. “I'll do what I do best.”
“By running away? You can't. You can't do it, Mum.”
“Making a new start,” she corrected me. “Only this time, I'm doing it for positive reasons. I feel good, Jess. For the first time in my life I feel like a good person, like someone who's worth something. Let me have that. Please.”
She was looking at me earnestly, and my head fell forward.
“I just don't get it,” I said. “You do this for me and yet when I wanted to go for a drink after the Sanctuary, you chose Chester. Then when he accused Max of breaking that nondisclosure, you chose Chester again. How come you're choosing me now? How come?”
She bit her lip. “Jess, I'm weak. Always have been, always will be. I learned early on that I can get a man to do pretty much what I want, but that's pretty much it. I'm not saying it's not useful—I've spent most of my life getting by on it—but when you know that you are completely reliant … that you don't have anything else … I didn't have anything for you, Jess. A flat I was behind on the rent with. A fake Hermès handbag.”
“A fake?” I stared at her in surprise. “I thought it was a gift.”
“The gift was the real thing, but I had to hock it,” she smiled sadly. “I bought the fake to cheer myself up.”
“So you chose Chester …”
“To build something for myself,” she said, tears pricking at her eyes. “Silly, I know. I should have learned my lesson by now. But that's my trouble, Jess, I don't learn. I don't learn at all.”
“It's like Iva
na said,” I murmered quietly.
“Sorry, darling?”
I shook my head. “Nothing. Just … It's not true, Mum. You're a good person. You're not just attractive to men. You're my mother, too. And you're a great one.”
“No, I'm not,” she said. “But thank you. That's a very sweet thing to say.”
“I mean it,” I said quietly. “You know, when I first met you, I thought I wasn't like you at all. Thought I didn't want to be. But now, now I hope I am. I hope I'm determined like you. Strong like you. I'd be proud if people thought we were similar. Proud if I was even a little bit like you.”
She smiled. “You don't mean that.”
“But I do,” I said, nodding. “Everyone loves you,” I said. “You made Caroline into a new woman. Really assertive. Helen did that needy thing with her boyfriend Mick and now they're moving in together. And Ivana … Ivana's having a baby. Can you believe that? And all because of you.”
“Oh, I doubt that,” my mother said bashfully. “But that's good news about Ivana. Helen, too. And Caroline. You should hold on to her. She's got real potential.”
“I know.” I took a deep breath. “So are you going to tell me whether you're going to Spain or America?”
My mother looked at me curiously. “Spain or America? What are you talking about?”
“Your neighbor,” I said. “He said you were either moving to Spain or America.”
“He did?” She laughed. “I did ask him not to tell anyone where I was going,” she said mischievously, “but I didn't expect him to lie so brazenly. And to my own daughter.”
“So you're not going to either?”
“No, darling. I'm going to Slough.”
“Slough?” My nose crinkled in confusion. “But we're going to …”
“Heathrow,” she cut in. “Which is near Slough.”
“You're not leaving the country?”
“Not yet.”
I sighed with relief. “Thank God. Look, Mum, don't go. Let me pay your debts, properly this time. Come back and talk to Chester. I'll explain. I'll make everything right again.”
“No, Jessica.” She shook her head.
“But …” I started to say.
“But nothing,” she interrupted. “Jessica, think about it. If you explain to Chester, he'll know the truth. About everything. One of us has to lose out a little bit, Jessica, and you have more to lose. For me this is really water off a duck's back.”
“No it isn't,” I insisted stubbornly. “You love Chester. You told me that all you wanted was to settle down, to have some peace.”
“Did I?” my mother said vaguely. “Well, I say all sorts of things.”
I took a deep breath. “At least take the money. You don't need debt collectors on your back.”
She looked at me for a moment, then nodded reluctantly. “You're very generous, Jessica. I'm very proud of you.”
“And I'm proud of you. I love you, Mum.”
“Oh, and I love you. I love you so much, Jessica, always have.” She reached forward and clutched me, enveloping me in her arms. It was the first time we'd properly hugged, first time I'd felt truly held by her. And it felt good. So good that we didn't move until the train arrived, until the doors opened and people started to barge past us, pulling their luggage over our feet.
Finally, reluctantly, we pulled apart. And then I thought of something.
“You completely wedded to Slough?” I asked her. “I mean, has it always been a dream of yours to live there?”
Her eyebrows shot up. “Why would anyone dream of living in Slough?”
“Good.” I grinned. “Because I've got a much better idea. Lovely house in Wiltshire, needs a house sitter. You'd be doing me a favor, honestly. What do you reckon?”
“Really?” I saw her eyes light up. “Grace's house?”
“The very same. Look, here's the address,” I said, scribbling it down on a piece of paper. “Margot the housekeeper will let you in. I'll call her, let her know you're coming.”
“The housekeeper?” I could see my mother trying to force back the excited smile that was wending its way across her lips. “I see.”
“There's a gardener, too.” I grinned. “Pete, Margot's husband.”
A voice came out of nowhere warning us that the train was about to depart back to London, and my mother took my hand again and squeezed it. “Goodbye, Jessica,” she said as she kissed me on the head and picked up her case. “Goodbye my lovely girl. And thank you.”
“You're welcome,” I said quietly, as she stood up and got off the train. “Bye, Mum.”
Chapter 24
“YOU READY?”
“Ready as I'll ever be,” I said, my eyes shining.
“Well, let's do it, then.” I looked up at Max and nodded. We were outside Chelsea Town Hall, the day after the Project Handbag launch. Which, incidentally, had been a triumph, reported in every blog and newspaper around. The bags had been photographed on the arms of everyone who mattered, the fund was raking in more money than Jarvis had ever dreamed of (it actually had a waiting list), and gossip columnists were already speculating about whether various celebrities and high-profile women were “Handbaggers” or not. Overnight it had become cool to invest your money instead of splurging it on shoes and bags; overnight, Milton had become the firm that everyone wanted to work with.
At least that's what Anthony told us. He'd been at the launch, too, had seen for himself what we'd done. And when Max had asked if he'd hold down the fort for a week or two while we got married and went on a honeymoon, he hadn't made a sarcastic comment or rolled his eyes or anything; he'd just nodded and said he'd be delighted to and that perhaps when we were back, we could talk about his future with the firm and what he could do to help. To help! I hadn't believed Max when he told me that, but he'd been telling the truth; the next morning I read the emails Anthony had sent him.
The Chelsea thing had been a surprise. Max had asked me whether I really wanted a big fancy wedding, really truly and I'd admitted that actually I didn't, not when it would be full of people I didn't even know. And that's when he mentioned Chelsea Town Hall. He told me that it wasn't big, that it wouldn't be very glamorous, but that if I wanted to, if I didn't mind the short notice, we could go there right away.
Vanessa brought me my lovely wedding dress in a cab and fussed around me as she tried veils on my head, ably assisted by Helen who stopped every few minutes to exhale loudly and say, “I can't believe you're doing this. After all that planning …”
I was a bit more nervous about telling Giles, but he seemed quite happy with the idea—he said that his creative energy had been all used up adapting Project Wedding into Project Handbag—and turned up with a lovely bouquet of flowers for me and some daffodils for everyone to hold. Even Ivana made an effort, eschewing her usual black for a deep burgundy outfit that covered her knees.
“Guess I'll see you inside then,” Max said, leaning down to kiss me.
“Guess you will.” I smiled back.
I watched him go upstairs to the registration office. Chester was behind me; next to him was Helen, my bridesmaid, wearing a pink dress that completely clashed with Max's red vest. “A riot of color,” Giles had kindly called it.
“You know, this is a real honor. Walking you down the aisle. Or, you know, into a room.”
I looked up at Chester. It had been my idea asking him to step into the father role. He'd been surprised, but flattered.
I met his eye. Then I turned to Helen. “Hel, could you give us a moment?”
She frowned, then shrugged. “Sure, whatever. I'll be …” She looked around for somewhere to go. “I'll be outside,” she said eventually and walked to the door.
“Having last-minute jitters?” Chester asked in an avuncular tone. “Want some advice from an old hand?”
I shook my head. Then I took a deep breath. “Actually I have to tell you something,” I said.
“You do?”
I nodded.
“Oka
y then.”
I took another breath. My heart was beating rapidly, but I knew I had to do it. Knew I'd hate myself if I didn't. “It wasn't my mother. With Hugh, I mean. She didn't sleep with him.”
Chester's face darkened slightly. “Jess, let's not get into that again, shall we? That episode of my life is over. Let's move on.”
“No,” I insisted. “It isn't over. She really didn't. She just said she did to protect me. You see, I kissed him. Well, he kissed me, actually. I think maybe he thought I'd come and work for him, or fall madly in love with him and give him a pile of money or something. Maybe he was just hoping for some company secrets. The point is, it was me who told him about the acquisition. I didn't mean to—I was drunk and I thought Max was cheating on me and I said that Milton was set up for the future because you were going to buy an Internet bank.”
I watched apprehensively, as Chester digested this news. “And you're telling me this why?”
“Because my mother's in love with you. Because you were right—your feeling was right. You two belong together.”
Chester looked at me for a moment and then he shook his head. “I heard it from Hugh with my own ears.”
“Hugh's gay. He's not even interested in women. My mother paid him to say he'd slept with her. She did it for me,” I said, my voice cracking slightly. “I gave her some money and she gave it to Hugh. He bought a car. A Mercedes.”
Chester stared at me. “A Mercedes? He got a Mercedes out of wrecking our lives?”
I nodded silently, watching as Chester's face turned from outrage to hope. “Is this for real, Jess? Is what you're telling me the God's honest truth?”
“Yes.”
“I see.” He didn't say anything for a while. “You kissed him, you say?”
I nodded uncomfortably. “I was drunk and upset and … I did a terrible thing, Chester. I know that.”
“And you realized that you'd told him company secrets when? The following morning?”
“Not until the story broke. And I wanted to come clean but Hugh told me we'd slept together. He said that Max shouldn't have told me about Glue and that if I told the truth you'd have a watertight case to sue Max. He said he'd have faced criminal proceedings for leaking information.”
A Wild Affair: A Novel Page 24