A Mother Like You

by Ruby Speechley

  ‘Take me home,’ her mother demanded.

  ‘But lunch…’

  ‘Now!’ Her mother’s hand tensed claw-like round her stick.

  Kate made a hasty descent down the stairs.

  She drove to her mother’s house in nearby St Albans without either of them speaking. Kate pretended she was listening to the radio, but her mind kept drawing her away, tunnelling deeper into the slip of memories, trying to recall taking the silk purse.

  When they arrived, her mother didn’t want any help getting out. She took her time turning in her seat and pressing down on her stick as she stood up then slammed the car door. Not even a glance back or a thank you. All the old bad feelings and difficulties between them were still there. Their relationship had snapped in two on the day she took her mum’s savings and left with a boyfriend they didn’t approve of. James could spin it how he liked but the truth was things between her and her mum were worse than ever. Wasn’t she kidding herself hoping they could repair it? Elizabeth was never going to be the mother that she needed. What if she turned out to be the same? She touched her bump. Where did that leave this little one?

  She stayed in her car on the drive, making sure her mother got in okay. She rummaged in her bag for her mobile still on silent. There was one message emblazoned in capital letters across the screen.

  I WISH YOU WERE DEAD!

  The words pounced at her. Kate held her thumb on the pad to unlock her phone, hand shaking. First the word ‘Bitch’ emblazoned in lipstick across her windscreen and now this, taking it to a whole new level. It had to be him, didn’t it? The photo he sent of them on the beach when they were a couple, the letter, all the text messages paled compared to this. All since she’d bumped into him at Sopwell House. But it can’t have been a coincidence him being there; he must have hunted her down to demand a ridiculous amount of money from her. Maybe it wasn’t enough. What was he going to do next? She shivered. Hang on. How could this be? She didn’t recognise the number. It wasn’t his. Unless he was using another phone on purpose to disguise himself. Why would he bother? He hadn’t cared so far.

  Who is this?

  She texted. She waited a few moments, but no reply came, so she texted again.

  I know this is you, Paul. Stop NOW or I’m going to the police!

  Little bubbles appeared as though he was about to reply, but came up. No laughing emojis, no skull and crossbones. If it wasn’t him then who was this? She pictured a finger jabbing each threatening letter on a keypad. Sod this. She pressed the call button. As soon as it connected she shouted down the line, ‘What the fuck are you playing at, Paul?’

  A digger or something rattled in the background.

  ‘Paul say something. Come on. Why are you doing this? I said I’d pay you.’

  The line went dead.

  Shit. If it wasn’t him then who the hell was this? Who had he told? Who else knew her darkest secret?

  Chapter Thirteen

  Elizabeth shut the front door and listened as Kate drove away. She collapsed into the chair at the telephone table until the pain in her chest had gone and her breathing returned to normal. Deep in her coat pocket, her hand clasped the tiny silk purse. The disc she’d carried with her every day of her life until she was fifteen. She pulled it out. Her fingers fell open, revealing its treasure. She brushed the purse against her dry lips. In another life, she had merely been a number: twenty-three.

  For lunch she heated up a tin of hooped spaghetti in a saucepan. The tasteless pieces slid down her throat. Leaning into the wireless, she tried to catch the name of a piece of music she ought to know. You can tell me, can’t you, dear? She pictured Ray sitting opposite her, hands dancing about conducting. Serenade for Strings, by Tchaikovsky popped into her head. She thanked him with a nod.

  A loud banging gave her a start. She gripped her stick. Was it outside? There it was again. Ray must have forgotten his key. She shuffled to the front door but stopped dead. Daft, it couldn’t be Ray. She reached for the wall to catch her breath. The impatient thumping started again. It’ll be Kate. Come to say sorry. It was an effort to reach for the latch with the pain in her chest. A man was standing in the porch, grinning at her. Something about him scratched her memory.

  ‘How are you, Liz?’

  No one ever called her that.

  ‘You look well.’ He stepped over the threshold forcing her to move aside, unable to stop him.

  ‘Got a bit of business to discuss with you, if you’re not too busy?’ He swaggered into the hall.

  ‘Is it Paul?’ Her voice came out diluted, as though she was only half there.

  ‘That’s it. You remember me then?’ He towered over her, reeking of a sickly aftershave mixed with burger on his breath. He seemed bulkier, face rounder and darker than she recalled.

  ‘She’s not here.’ Elizabeth’s knees trembled. Her body prickled in a sudden cold sweat.

  ‘Nah, it’s you I came to see.’

  ‘What do you want?’

  ‘Let’s sit down, shall we?’

  She turned towards the kitchen and he strode ahead, opening the door.

  ‘You put your feet up. I’ll stick the kettle on.’ He grabbed her elbow, fingers pressing into her thin flesh as he steered her into a chair.

  ‘Sorry to hear about Ray.’ He turned the tap on full and filled the kettle, splashing water all over the draining board.

  Words gathered in her mouth. She clenched her teeth like a dog ready to bite.

  ‘He was a decent sort. Always helped me out with my camper, didn’t he?’

  The pain in her chest had dulled to an ache.

  ‘I’d have visited sooner, but you know how things are between me and Katie.’

  ‘She left you. I knew she would,’ she said triumphantly.

  ‘Is that what she told you?’ He roared with laughter. For a second, she saw his pock-marked teenage face, the cocky flick of his hair.

  ‘What do you want?’ Elizabeth ground her teeth together. Funny how some people never changed.

  ‘She owes me a lot of money as it goes.’ He switched the kettle off and poured boiling water in the teapot. ‘That’s a turnaround, isn’t it? Bet you weren’t expecting that.’ He clapped his hands together in a single gunshot sound. Elizabeth jumped.

  ‘What can she possibly owe you for? She’s done very well for herself since she left you.’ She clung to the top of her stick.

  ‘Oh right. Best pals now, are you?’ He stirred the tea then chucked the spoon in the sink with a loud clatter. ‘Told you the whole story, has she?’

  Elizabeth watched the pulsing muscle in his cheek, wondering what was coming.

  ‘She’s not being straight with you, Liz,’ he said over his shoulder, a cheery note in his voice.

  ‘I don’t believe you.’

  He spun round. ‘That’s right, she could get banged up for what she did.’ His Cheshire cat grin slid up both sides of his face.

  Her vision darkened at the edges. She blinked it away. ‘You’re lying!’ she growled, the words scraping her throat raw.

  He exaggerated lifting his eyebrows. ‘No. Don’t think so.’

  ‘She would have told me if she’d done something serious,’ she lied. Every image, conversation, thought and memory launched into a twister in her mind. What could Kate have done?

  ‘You two were never close though, were you?’

  Sweat collected under her arms, round her neck. He must have been waiting all these years to get back at her.

  ‘Ray knew about it. I guess he didn’t tell you either?’ He took two mugs from the cupboard.

  She hoped this was his idea of a sick joke because she couldn’t for one minute believe that Kate and Ray would have kept something important from her. Lied to her.

  ‘Yeah, I said to Ray he ought to tell you, but he didn’t want you getting upset.’

  A distant thunder was approaching in Elizabeth’s head. She gripped the arm of her chair. ‘What do you want?’ Her voice was deeper now;
she’d found herself.

  ‘You need to tell Kate to pay up sharpish. She’s dragging her feet. Tell her, if she thinks five grand is enough to keep me quiet, she’s very much mistaken. That’s it really. I’m guessing she doesn’t want me to expose her secrets to everyone.’

  ‘I think you had your pound of flesh long ago.’ She struggled to keep her voice steady.

  ‘No need to be like that, is there? I’m trying to do this the nice way. I could always take Kate to court instead.’

  ‘Are you threatening me?’ Her hands were icy stiff.

  ‘I only want what’s owed to me.’ He leaned against the sink, wisps of steam from the boiled kettle rising next to him.

  ‘You’re lying. She doesn’t owe you anything.’

  ‘I could always tell you what she did, then you can decide.’ He shrugged.

  ‘Get out of my house.’ She pushed down on her stick and stood up.

  ‘All right, all right, keep your hair on.’ He backed away.

  ‘Get out!’ Elizabeth shrieked, her whole body shaking. She held her stick up like a gun, following him all the way into the hall.

  ‘Don’t think this is the end of it,’ he snarled, disfiguring his face.

  He slammed the door so hard behind him it shook the house down to its foundations. Elizabeth struggled to catch her breath; the pain in her chest spread down her arm.

  What if he was telling the truth and Kate had done something terrible? Maybe that was the reason why she had stayed away so long?

  Chapter Fourteen

  James’s car was on the drive when Kate arrived home. She parked behind him and switched off the engine. She checked all her mirrors for any sign of movement. Brambles were beginning to choke the rose bushes in the front garden. Anyone could hide in there if they wanted to. She needed to get out here one afternoon and hack them down. They’d been lucky to find this house near the station in Boxmoor at such a good price. It was a safe area as long as you didn’t have an ex-boyfriend hunting you down or whoever else he’d told. All the way home she’d tried to work out who could be threatening her if it wasn’t Paul. His mother? Someone from the hospital? One of their old neighbours or friends? She’d moved away from the Isle of Wight, having only lived there for a short time with Paul, and she’d been careful not to keep in touch with anyone.

  The car clicked as it began to cool down. She felt exhausted and still shaken by the anonymous message and the silence on the phone. It had been days since she’d felt this nauseous. Was it anxiety? It seemed different to morning sickness. She checked over her shoulder before opening the front door.

  In the hallway, she could hear the shower on and was grateful for the few minutes’ grace before she had to face James. Still reeling from Elizabeth’s accusations, she couldn’t bear another fight.

  A sketchy memory of the purse on her mother’s dressing table long ago came back to her. But perhaps she was imagining it. She didn’t remember taking the thing and, if she had, she’d never have known its sentimental value. If only her mother would tell her what had happened to her parents and what the significance of the purse was. Maybe the initials M. L. were her grandmother’s? But she didn’t know her name, had never seen a photo of her.

  The shower switched off. Moments later, the wet-room door opened, and a steamy waft of musky black pepper drifted towards her. She reached for a satsuma from the fruit bowl, dug her nail in and peeled it.

  ‘Any coffee going?’ James asked, wearing only his boxer shorts.

  She shook her head, a piece of satsuma in her mouth. He switched on the kettle. Resting against the workbench next to her, he stroked her cheek with the back of his hand. She longed to put her arms round him. Instead she turned away.

  ‘Are you in the office tomorrow?’ He took a couple of satsuma segments from her.

  ‘Of course I am.’ She swung round. ‘Why wouldn’t I be?’

  ‘It’s not good all the chit chat in the office about the amount of time you’re spending away.’

  ‘What? I’ve been working from home on and off because of going to the hospital, you know that. They know that. We’re equal partners in this business, so surely I can decide?’

  ‘I know, but I’m worried it’s not good for morale, especially when I’m out of the office as well.’ He took two mugs out of the cupboard and scooped ground coffee into the filter.

  ‘There’s no one else to take my mother to her appointments.’

  ‘I realise that.’ He poured boiled water in and shut the lid. Kate passed him a teaspoon.

  ‘If you let me explain to people what’s going on…’ She sat at the kitchen table in the hope that James would join her, but he stayed where he was, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. He poured the drinks and put hers on the table.

  ‘You don’t want people to know I’m pregnant, do you?’

  He picked up his mug and blew into it. The steam rolled off and evaporated.

  ‘Tell me I’m wrong?’ She opened her handbag. ‘I take it you’re behind this?’ She slapped the NHS envelope on the table.

  James frowned at her and opened it, taking out the ripped-up pieces.

  ‘Hey, hang on. I did not send you this.’

  ‘No, the hospital did. But you gave them my name, didn’t you?’

  ‘No, I did not. I wouldn’t do that.’ He screwed his face up in disbelief.

  ‘But you told me I should be going to the clinic.’

  ‘It doesn’t mean I rang them.’ He sounded incredulous.

  ‘Fine. So who else would it be? Only Mum and Susie know. Neither thinks I should abort our baby. Only you.’ She twisted in the seat away from him. He reached out to her shoulder, but she jerked away.

  ‘Look, I’ve been thinking about everything and…’ His voice trailed off.

  ‘Have you?’ The words sprang out of her mouth. She wished she didn’t sound so desperate.

  ‘The thing is…’ A faraway expression came over him as though imagining her reply. He gripped the work surface behind him. ‘We need to think about who will step in for you when you have the baby and I thought Jasmine would fit the bill.’ He stood with one foot on top of the other.

  ‘So you’ve accepted the baby? I can’t understand you sometimes.’

  ‘You told me you’re going to keep it, so what am I supposed to do?’ He pressed his fingers on the counter so hard, the tips of his nails turned white.

  She’d pushed him into a corner. It wasn’t exactly the outcome she’d hoped for. She took a gulp of coffee. It tasted bitter, too much coffee, not enough milk. She’d seen the way all the men looked at Jasmine – her sleek hair that moved like a sheet of black satin, her neat exotic curves. Now James seemed to be falling under her spell too.

  ‘The point is, Jasmine is easily the best qualified.’

  ‘Is this negotiable at all?’

  ‘We’ll make the decision together, of course we will.’

  ‘I won’t be on maternity leave that long. I could come back after six weeks.’

  ‘But it’s still a whole six weeks and then there’s the couple of weeks before it’s born. The only other possible candidate is Steve.’

  Suddenly Steve seemed like an excellent choice to fill her role. ‘So does all this mean you’ve accepted we’re having the baby?’ Kate felt like she’d taken an impulsive dash across a bed of hot coals. She held her breath waiting for his answer. But James looked at her as though she’d spoken to him in Russian.

  ‘Well, here’s the thing, why don’t we have a bit of space to think things over?’

  Kate tipped her head and imagined her brain sliding along with it.

  ‘Mac says I can stay at his for a while, until you… you know…’

  ‘Come to my senses?’

  ‘That wasn’t what I was going to say.’

  ‘No? But that’s what you meant.’ He may as well have thrown her in a washing machine on full spin she felt so dizzy. ‘I can’t believe you’ve discussed this with Mac before me.�
�� She traced the route of a surface scratch across the melamine table. The depth of the groove was so slight it could only be seen when the light bounced off it at a certain angle. ‘Is this anything to do with Jasmine?’

  ‘Don’t be bloody ridiculous.’

  ‘Sounds like you’ve already made your decision.’ She rubbed the scratch with her thumb in the vain hope of erasing it.

  ‘I thought it would help if we had some time apart that’s all.’ He had the gall to smile.

  ‘You’re leaving me?’ Kate raised her voice and sat upright.

  ‘I’m not leaving you.’

  ‘Sounds like it to me,’ a sob escaped her lips.

  ‘We both need to think this over carefully.’

  ‘Are you serious? Is this anything to do with what happened with you and Susie?’

  ‘Of course not.’ He crossed his arms.

  ‘So why did you keep that from me?’

  ‘I didn’t realise I had.’

  ‘Being pregnant is not an illness. It’s not going to go away.’

  ‘See this as a little break from each other so we can both think about it clearly. We both need to be on the same page.’

  ‘I could actually do with your support right now.’ She willed herself not to cry.

  ‘But you’ve still not told me what’s brought all this on?’

  ‘What do you mean, “brought this on”?’

  ‘I thought we understood each other, wanted the same things in life, this not being one of them.’ He finished his coffee.

  ‘You’re not listening to me!’ Kate stood up.

  ‘I am, it’s just—’

  ‘It’s not some crazy notion I’ve dreamt up. I didn’t plan it,’ she interrupted. ‘I’m pregnant with our baby. It’s alive and already perfectly formed. Here, look at the scan picture.’ Kate grabbed her handbag from the back of the chair and dug out the hazy black and white square of paper. ‘We can’t just get rid of it. This is our son or daughter. Part of you and part of me joined together.’

  James glanced at the scan. She willed him to be amazed but he frowned.

  ‘We talked it through, neither of us wanted children, so I don’t understand where this change of heart has come from. You know our lives would never be the same.’