Winter at Wishington Bay

by Maxine Morrey

  Her disdain seemed to enter the room before she did. I didn’t bother to stand as she made her entrance. She’d made her position clear when I’d contacted her to tell her I’d left. People like me didn’t do things like that. There had been no understanding, no support, no offer of comfort. Like Jeremy, she was only concerned about how it would reflect on her and what ripples it would cause within the family and her social set. Her daughter was crumbling into pieces, had no home and no idea what to do and the only thing my mother was worried about was how it would all look up at the country club. She’d told me to stop being so selfish and get back to my place and hope that Jeremy hadn’t noticed I’d gone. To be fair, she probably had had a point there – I suspected it had taken him a little while to realise I’d actually left. But it had shown me where she stood – and it was firmly the other side of the fence to me. And now, here she was, in front of me.

  She glanced round. ‘So, this is where you’ve been hiding out all this time.’ The disapproval laced itself through her words but, after years of cringing at it, doing everything I could to make it disappear, I realised that now, it didn’t bother me. I no longer cared whether my mother disapproved of me, my home, or anything else. I knew what mattered to me now and, after so many years of trying to earn it, her good opinion was no longer one of those things.

  ‘No, Mother. This is where I’ve been living, very happily – until now.’

  ‘It’s very small.’

  I didn’t reply.

  ‘That’s what I said,’ Jeremy butted in. ‘Very pokey.’ Had his tone always been that ingratiating towards her?

  She turned away from him without acknowledgement.

  ‘Living happily cleaning other people’s bathrooms and sleeping with other people’s husbands?’ Her tone was cool, in contrast to my face which flamed at her last comment.

  ‘Yes, I have been doing some cleaning to help supplement my income and also to help out a friend. I actually quite enjoy it.’ My mother paled at the comment. ‘It can be very calming.’

  ‘This friend you’re helping out. Is it her husband you’re sleeping with?’ I’d tried to move past her original comment, but she knew she’d hit a mark and continued to twist the verbal knife.

  ‘What I do with my life is none of your business. You made it quite clear you had no interest in it when I needed you. However, as I think it’s best that before you leave, which I’m sure you will be doing very shortly, you have your facts straight and get your information from a more reliable source than the Daily Mail’s column of shame, I will clarify a couple of points for you. Yes, I was seeing someone briefly, but he was separated, and had been for some time.’

  ‘But his wife is here in the village with him now, so I understand.’

  She really had had someone on the case, or at least someone scouring the internet for her information.

  ‘Yes, that’s correct. But at the time they were separated with no intention of any reconciliation.’

  ‘So you threw him back in to the arms of his ex?’ Jeremy snorted, apparently amused.

  ‘It would appear those ridiculous trousers are letting even less oxygen up to your brain than usual,’ I returned, keeping my tone cool.

  Jeremy narrowed his eyes at me, before turning away and giving his clothing another surreptitious pull. I glanced at my mother. There was the slightest glimmer of amusement in her eyes.

  ‘Talking of reconciliation, I don’t suppose there’s any chance of that happening here?’

  My ex-husband turned his nose up as if a bad smell had just wafted there. ‘Hardly! After all she’s put me through?’

  Even my mother had the wherewithal to briefly raise her eyes to the ceiling at this, letting out a sigh as she did so.

  ‘Don’t be so stupid, Jeremy. Everyone knows you were the problem in this relationship.’ She gave him another cool glance, her eyes travelling up and down briefly. ‘And at least Sophia didn’t have you lose all scrap of dignity by making you wear those absurd clothes.’

  I watched them both for a moment. Jeremy was practically vibrating with fury. If he exploded then and there, I wouldn’t have been surprised.

  ‘I don’t have time for all this,’ he snapped. ‘See if you can talk some damn sense into her!’ With that, he stormed out of the room and thundered down the stairs in a manner that suggested a herd of wildebeest had just left my living room. There was a brief surge of noise as the door opened and then closed with such force that a couple of my ornaments shook.

  Standing, I crossed to the window, careful to remain in the shadow of the curtains. Jeremy was pushing past the reporters, his mouth making shapes that, if his puce coloured skin was anything to go by, weren’t pleasant well wishes. He jerked the car door open and got in. Within seconds he was out again, snatching the ticket off the windscreen and staring at it for a moment before throwing it forcefully inside the car as he got back in. Slamming the door, he revved the engine and sped off down the narrow road in a manner that, if he wasn’t careful, would add a dangerous driving ticket to his collection.

  I returned to my seat and said nothing. My mother gave a glance over the armchair, as if seeing whether it was worthy of her gracing it with her backside. Apparently it met her standards, and she sat.

  ‘He’s making an absolute fool of himself, marrying that girl.’

  ‘Well, lucky for me, all the final paperwork has now been signed so I really don’t care what he does. I have what I need which is all I ever wanted.’

  ‘It’s his fault you’re in all this mess now. I do know that, of course. Everyone does.’

  I sat up a little straighter. ‘I’m not in any “mess”, Mother. I made my own decision to leave that house and that marriage and my only regret is that I didn’t do it sooner.’

  ‘Well, why would you?’ she asked, incredulous. ‘You had everything you could ever want. A beautiful house, car, clothes and a title. Not to mention more money than you could ever need.’

  ‘I also had a husband who didn’t love me and had countless, and sometimes very public, affairs.’

  My mother shrugged. ‘Often that’s just part of the deal.’

  I shot up out of the chair. ‘Well, that wasn’t the deal I signed up for. And it wasn’t part of the deal for you!’

  My mother looked up at me for a moment before looking away. ‘No, it wasn’t. You are right, of course. I was exceptionally lucky with your father. He was a very special man. There aren’t many like him.’

  ‘I miss him.’ My voice was soft. I’d planned to do my best to keep my emotions below the surface when Jeremy and then my mother had shown up. I’d once been very good at that, but it seemed that particular talent was one I’d lost my edge at.

  As I looked back at her, I saw, for the briefest moment, a softening in my mother’s face and when she spoke, her voice was also softer, the normally hard edges of it rounded and gentle. ‘So do I.’

  But then the moment was gone and her cool, assessing gaze landed back upon me.

  ‘So, I’ve devised a plan that will have all this cleared up as soon as possible.’ I opened my mouth to speak but she continued on. ‘You’ll come back with me today. Forget all this nonsense down here.’ She gave a brief flick of her wrist and the huge emerald ring she wore on her right hand caught the low winter sunlight, now streaming in through the window, and flashed.

  ‘Obviously, you must get rid of that Instagram account immediately. Honestly, Sophia, whatever were you thinking? I’ll put out a statement about you having some sort of mental breakdown as a result of your husband’s continued infidelities. Is that the right term? Mental breakdown? I can’t keep up with all this political correctness. It seems to change by the day.’ She let out an irritated sigh. ‘Anyway. My secretary can find out that day’s correct term and we’ll issue the announcement. Jeremy’s already known as rather a louse when it comes to that side of things so it will gain us some sympathy and take the focus off the rest of it, and goodness knows he doesn’t deserve t
o be spared if we can garner some benefit. What’s that look for?’

  I shook my head. ‘This “nonsense”, as you call it, is my life. And I happen to like it. A lot! Coming here has allowed me to finally be myself and do the things I want to do instead of spending my entire life trying to please someone else – even though I never could. First it was you, and then it was Jeremy and you. But you were both impossible. Nothing I did was good enough and I finally realised that it never would be. I may have had all the things you mentioned but what does any of that mean if one doesn’t really have a life? I was merely existing. Now, here, I know what it means to really live! I’ve not had a nervous breakdown and, should you dare issue any sort of statement to that effect, or any other with respect to my life, I will contact the media myself.’

  My mother was watching me now. It was pretty hard to tell, due to all the fillers and Botox, but I guessed there was something akin to surprise on her face. This was, after all, probably the most I had said to her in one go since I was a child. And certainly the first time I’d dared to really defy her.

  ‘What I have now is clarity. I’m happy, Mother. I know you probably don’t think I’m right about that, but the importance of your opinion is something I’ve also gained some clarity on since I left, and that’s actually been incredibly freeing.’

  I gave another glance out of the window. The crowd were still milling around but their enthusiasm seemed to have waned a little, and I could see a few of them heading off in the direction of the chippy. The warmth of the sun through the glass was deceiving, as outside I knew a cold wind blew straight in off the sea and chilled those unprepared for it right through to their unmentionables. Of course, I had very little sympathy for the press pack and wouldn’t have been too upset to learn that some of those unmentionables had got frostbite. When I turned back, my mother was watching me. There was no wariness in her eyes as there had been with Jeremy. For all her faults, she’d always had more balls than my ex-husband. But there was something in her gaze. As though she were seeing me for the first time. And I suppose, in a way, she was. She was seeing a new and, I liked to think, vastly improved, version of me.

  ‘Do you know how hard it was to be constantly criticised by you? I don’t remember a time when I wasn’t always striving to please you.’

  ‘I think you’re being rather overdramatic, Sophia.’ Her tone had a touch of boredom to it now, but I didn’t care. She’d barged into to my home, into my new life, so she could damn well sit and listen.

  ‘No, Mother, I’m not. And I think, maybe deep down,’ I looked over at her, ‘incredibly deep down,’ she looked up at my tone, ‘I think you know it too.’ She opened her mouth to speak.

  ‘Daddy knew it.’ She flinched slightly at that and I realised I’d finally touched a nerve. ‘But even when he discussed it with you, you couldn’t help yourself, could you?’ I sat down, suddenly exhausted. ‘I did everything I could to try and please you. Even more so when Daddy had gone. I know you were hurting and lonely and I wanted to be there for you. For us to be there for each other. But you didn’t want that, did you?’

  ‘It was a very difficult time, Sophia. I’d lost my husband.’ Her voice was even but I’d now abandoned all hope of keeping the calm, collected exterior of my past.

  ‘And I’d lost my father! The one person I could be myself with. The one person who loved me for what I was, who I was! And then he was gone and any love that had managed to live in that house withered overnight, just like the roses on his grave. I could have been there for you if you’d let me. But even that wasn’t enough of a jolt for you, was it?’

  ‘You know nothing about what losing your father did to me!’ My mother snapped suddenly.

  ‘No, because you wouldn’t tell me! And you know nothing about what losing him did to me because you didn’t bloody well care enough to find out.’

  The atmosphere in the snug room was charged, as though one spark would ignite everything.

  ‘That’s not true.’

  ‘Isn’t it?’

  ‘No. But it’s a bit late for all that now, Sophia. You’re a grown woman.’

  ‘You’re right. I am. But I’m still your child. Which is why I did so much to try to please you. For God’s sake, Mother! I even married the “right” man,’ I cried, making the punctuation shapes in the air. ‘The one you said would be right for me. Would treat me well and who already had a, what was it you called it now, oh yes, a fondness for me.’

  ‘He did.’

  ‘He had a fondness for my title and my money. That’s all.’

  A shadow of distaste flitted across her features.

  ‘I admit, I may have overestimated Jeremy’s character. But it was all meant to be for the best.’

  ‘The best for whom?’

  ‘For everyone.’

  ‘For “The Family”? For you? For the bloodline? Well that bit certainly didn’t work out, did it?’

  She cleared her throat. ‘No, apparently not. Although from what I understand, that particular issue lies with Jeremy, and not you.’

  I sat down, heavily. ‘Is that all you can say?’

  She looked round at me for a moment before standing and walking to the window, sweeping her gaze up and down the street outside.

  ‘What do you want me to say, Sophia?’ she asked on a sigh. ‘Unlike you, I haven’t had some hippy makeover.’

  I shook my head. ‘You’ll never get it, will you?’

  ‘Get what, exactly?’

  ‘Do you even understand how hurtful the casual comments you’d drop over dinners whenever one of your friends became a grandparent could be?’

  ‘It was just conversation. Don’t be so sensitive about everything.’

  ‘I’m not being sensitive, Mother! I’m being a normal human being. With feelings and emotions and all the other things that seem to have completely passed you by!’

  ‘Oh, really,’ she muttered, exasperation in her tone.

  ‘Do you not remember sitting at the table, making digs about how you were still waiting for your grandchildren? How you couldn’t understand how things could take so long? How Jeremy’s mother was likely to become a grandmother before you did, the way he carried on sometimes? Do you remember that?’

  She didn’t reply, which I took as a yes.

  ‘Have you any idea how upsetting all that was? How humiliating? Laughing with your so-called friends about my husband’s affairs in front of me? My inability to get pregnant?’

  ‘You obviously took it far more to heart than you needed to. Like I said, I was just making conversation.’

  ‘It shouldn’t have been conversation! And I would have thought that so-called good breeding you’re so damn proud of would have taught you that. It was cruel and hurtful and absolutely the last thing any mother should do to their child if they have one speck of humanity about them.’ I swiped at my cheek with the back of my hand, surprised to find it damp. I’d been so caught up in my memories, the tears of now and years past had begun to flow unnoticed. My mother held out a delicate handkerchief towards me wordlessly. For a moment, I considered refusing it, but there had been enough pettiness in my life already, and I was disinclined to add to it.

  ‘Thank you.’

  ‘It was never my intention to purposely hurt you, Sophia. I suppose…’ she cleared her throat. ‘I suppose I can see now that those comments, although made in jest, could have been taken in a way they were not meant.’

  It was the nearest I’d ever get to an apology from her, but I wasn’t going to thank her for it.

  ‘What did you mean about knowing the problems with conceiving lay on Jeremy’s side?’

  I tried to hand back the damp handkerchief but she waved it away before retaking her seat in the armchair and looking across at me.

  ‘His fiancée is neither the brightest nor the most discreet of women. A couple of gin and tonics and out it all flows. She forced him to go and see some Harley Street chap and get things tested. Incredibly low sperm count
as it turns out. Though why anyone should be surprised, I don’t know. We all know Jeremy has a lazy streak. Apparently, that even extends to his little swimmers.’

  I crossed my arms over my middle and hugged myself. All those years of him blaming me for not getting pregnant, for not providing him with a son and heir, like one of his bloody brood mares. And all the time it was him. I’d had an idea about that, of course, once I’d taken matters into my own hands and visited specialists and had an assortment of tests. So far as they could tell, there was no reason I shouldn’t get pregnant. Now it all made a lot more sense. I felt the emotions tumble within me. Rage, hurt, grief. I wasn’t sure which I felt the most of and perhaps, right now, that was a good thing. That information, however long suspected, would be something that I’d need to process, and right now definitely wasn’t the most conducive time to do that.

  ‘Why didn’t you contact me? Tell me where you were? Instead I had to find out through some convoluted game of Chinese Whispers!’

  I looked up, matching her cool gaze with one of my own. ‘It’s been over eighteen months, Mother. And you’ve only bothered to find out where I am now because it affects you. Because I might have embarrassed you by living my own life and taking on work that you feel is beneath you and your family. If none of this had been made public, you’d still be happily ensconced back in Surrey in your cosseted life, with all your country club friends, sipping G&Ts and sneering at all those around you. Life as usual.’