A Mother Like You

by Ruby Speechley

  A car door slammed. Kate snapped out of her daydream.

  ‘We’re here,’ James called as he and Elizabeth came through the side gate. Kate couldn’t remember the last time she’d seen her mother looking so smart.

  ‘You’ve had your hair done, Mum.’

  ‘It’s an important day.’ Elizabeth’s face flushed down past her neck.

  ‘Come and have some fresh lemonade.’ Kate pulled out a chair for her. ‘I’ll go and fetch some glasses.’ She strolled off to the kitchen. As she reached up to the cupboard, her stomach clenched. She gripped the work surface until the wave passed.

  ‘Are you okay?’ James said, rushing in. He helped her into a chair.

  ‘It’s only the Braxton Hicks. Practising for the big day.’ She laughed. ‘They’re stronger than I remember though.’

  ‘You should come and lie down.’

  ‘I’ll be fine. Can you bring the glasses?’ She ambled gingerly across the lawn with a box of firelighters.

  ‘How are you?’ Elizabeth sat in the shade of the lime tree.

  ‘She’s been doing too much, as usual.’ James guided Kate into the sunlounger.

  ‘I’m fine, don’t fuss.’

  Elizabeth sipped her drink, the ice cubes tinkling like finger bells.

  James lit the fire as a taxi pulled up outside.

  ‘Here they are now,’ Kate said.

  Elizabeth craned her neck to see them. Frankie strolled in wearing a floppy hat and a sundress over a T-shirt.

  ‘Goodness me,’ Elizabeth whispered and pressed her fingers to her lips.

  ‘It’s good to see you,’ Kate said, going over. ‘How was your journey?’ She kissed Frankie and Matt on both cheeks.

  ‘Not bad, thanks. We’ve been in London for the past two days,’ Matt said. ‘The exhibition is going really well.’

  ‘These are for you,’ Frankie said, handing Kate a bunch of roses.

  ‘They’re beautiful, thank you. Come over and have a drink. I’d like you both to meet my mum.’

  Elizabeth pressed down on her stick and stood up.

  ‘Lovely to meet you, Granny. Can I call you Granny?’ Frankie handed Elizabeth a bunch of flowers.

  ‘Of course. Are these for me? Thank you, dear.’ Elizabeth sniffed the petals and laid the bouquet on the table. ‘Well I never, just look at you.’ She opened her arms wide and folded them round Frankie.

  ‘She’s a younger version of you, isn’t she, Mum?’ Kate said, trying to ignore the pinch of envy in her gut at her mother hugging her granddaughter so easily. She immediately hated herself for feeling that way.

  Elizabeth stood back and held Frankie’s hands. Had either of them heard her? They were completely lost in each other.

  ‘And this is my fiancé, Matt.’

  Elizabeth shook his hand. ‘So very pleased to meet you.’

  ‘And you.’ Matt bowed his head.

  ‘Look at you both, a beautiful couple about to be married,’ Elizabeth said.

  Frankie gave a girlish laugh and squeezed Matt’s hand. ‘You will come, won’t you, Granny?’

  ‘Try and keep me away.’

  Kate choked up seeing her mother so bubbly and happy. But a wave of guilt crashed down on her, dragging her under. She’d denied Frankie a mother and a granny, and a granddaughter for her mother. If she hadn’t left Frankie, maybe she could have mended her relationship with her mother much sooner.

  Frankie sat and chatted with Elizabeth while James steered Matt to the kitchen on the promise of a cold beer. It was lovely how easily her mother and daughter had bonded as though they’d always known each other. She was enjoying this calmer, softer Elizabeth, if only it hadn’t been hidden from her all these years.

  ‘How I wish your granddad Ray could see you,’ Elizabeth said, sandwiching Frankie’s hand between hers.

  ‘Come on, Mum, don’t go upsetting yourself.’ Kate turned away holding herself round her middle as the crushing enormity of her actions sank in. The relationships that were never forged because of her. The impulsive teenager so keen to hurt her parents, too proud to admit to her mistakes, had done untold damage.

  ‘Wouldn’t he have been proud of her though?’ her mother continued, still holding Frankie’s hands.

  Kate nodded. There were no words because it could never be put right.

  James marched out of the kitchen with a beer can in each hand followed by Matt carrying a tray of tall glasses. James poured a beer for Frankie and more lemonade for Elizabeth.

  ‘Tell us about your exhibition, Frankie,’ Kate said, trying to restore some semblance of normality in herself.

  ‘It’s in a new gallery in Shoreditch, with six other up and coming artists. I’ve sold two paintings already.’ Frankie leaned into Matt, standing behind her.

  ‘Well done. Isn’t that great, Mum?’

  ‘Wonderful. I’d love to see your work,’ Elizabeth said.

  ‘I can show you a few on my phone. It’s an exhibition exploring the homeless community and the wide range of people who need to rely on food banks. I was inspired by some of Hogarth’s paintings. It’s very exciting. I’ll try and get some VIP tickets for you.’

  ‘She was interviewed by a couple of newspapers.’ Matt rubbed his hand across Frankie’s shoulders.

  ‘They were talking to all the artists,’ Frankie added.

  ‘But yours are the ones that have hit a nerve, highlighting food poverty in today’s society, as it actually is.’ He poured a beer into his glass and turned to Elizabeth. ‘Sometimes both parents are working, but they still can’t afford to feed their children because their rents are high and the cost of childcare and travelling to work is extortionate.’

  ‘Sometimes I think society is moving backwards,’ Elizabeth said.

  ‘The situation seems to be getting worse every year. There are more children than ever going without breakfast because their parents can’t afford it. Schools are trying to help by running breakfast clubs, but it’s often not enough.’

  James tossed sausages and kebabs onto the hot grill. Kate brought out various salads, breads and sauces. She caught snippets of Frankie and Matt’s conversation with Elizabeth.

  ‘I was very sad to hear about your accident,’ Elizabeth was saying.

  ‘It was a while ago now. Happened at the local trials. My horse refused a jump. Pulled up sharply and I went down hard.’

  Elizabeth shut her eyes and touched her forehead. ‘Why on earth didn’t your dad contact your mum about it?’

  ‘He had his reasons. It wasn’t easy for him.’

  ‘I dare say, but he knew where we were.’

  ‘Dad wanted to manage on his own, not rely on anyone.’

  Elizabeth nodded, but Kate imagined she was fighting an inferno inside now she knew that Ray had been subsidising him.

  ‘It’s not like he had a choice, at the beginning anyway.’

  ‘You know your mum wasn’t well after she had you?’

  ‘Yeah he told me. I know what she did, and I understand it was a desperate moment losing control, but she didn’t have to go and leave. Dad didn’t want her to.’

  ‘It’s not quite as straightforward as that,’ Elizabeth told her. ‘There are always two sides to a story.’

  Kate moved away. She didn’t want to go over it all again.

  ‘Maybe, but she could have hurt me badly, couldn’t she?’

  Kate squinted as though she’d been physically struck. She pretended she was listening to James chatting to Matt about cars while he cooked.

  ‘She didn’t though, and you mustn’t blame her. Caring for a baby is not easy.’

  ‘She could have contacted me though, couldn’t she?’ Frankie sounded like a child.

  ‘She didn’t know where you’d moved to. Anyway, she has got in touch now and the time is right. Like I said, your dad knew where we were, but there’s not always a simple solution, is there? In the end you have to believe she made the right decision for you at the time.’

  Kat
e blinked back tears and pressed her lips together tightly. She’d never heard her mother defending her before.

  ‘I suppose so. Anyway, I know I was lucky to have Dad.’

  Elizabeth patted her arm. ‘So what’s he doing with himself these days?’

  ‘He runs a small gardening business on the Isle of Wight.’

  Elizabeth smiled with a knowing nod. She was probably wondering how long the money Kate had given him would last before he tried to come back for more.

  ‘Kate told me about you being a foundling,’ Frankie said.

  Elizabeth folded her napkin.

  ‘Did she tell you I’ve been doing some research?’

  Elizabeth nodded.

  ‘It sounds so regimented for such young children.’

  ‘It wasn’t all bad. We got up to a few larks.’

  ‘I’d love to hear about it.’ Frankie shifted closer.

  Kate came and sat with them.

  ‘My best friend was a girl called Alison. She had glorious red curly hair and freckles. We used to sneak round the back of the school to the allotments, scrumping for carrots, which we’d rub up and down our pinafores to clean.’

  ‘You’ve not told me this, Mum.’ Kate laughed.

  ‘No, well,’ she gave a deep sigh, ‘Alison and I did everything together. We put the rest down our stockings to stick under our pillows for a midnight feast. The whole ward would talk of nothing else for weeks. This one night there was a full moon, so the room was well lit because we didn’t have curtains. All the girls were gathered round my bed telling each other ghost stories when Miss Rudling stormed in. She was so mad at us she made us march up and down the courtyard fifty times right then in our nightgowns!’

  ‘Oh Mum, that’s awful.’

  ‘It was, looking back, but we found it amusing at the time.’

  ‘I visited The Foundling Museum in London yesterday,’ Frankie said. ‘I saw lots of the tokens that were left with the babies. There’s an early letter on display from one mother who was about to be hanged, begging The Foundling Hospital to look after her newborn.’

  ‘Goodness, that’s heartbreaking,’ Kate said.

  ‘The tokens were left so the mothers could identify their babies when they went back for them. Few were ever able to though,’ Frankie said.

  Elizabeth knitted her fingers together.

  ‘Did you know that when the site in Berkhamsted closed, The Foundling Hospital continued fostering children under the Coram name?’

  Elizabeth shook her head.

  ‘The site at Berkhamsted is Ashlyns School now and Coram is still going today as a children’s charity. I’ve been allowed to search through the archives and see your records, Granny.’

  Elizabeth’s body stiffened. Her face appeared to freeze.

  ‘I found out something about my great-grandmother, your mum, Edith Liddle. I don’t know if you were told anything about it.’

  ‘Are you okay with this, Mum?’ Kate leaned forward. Maybe she ought to have given her a bit more warning.

  Elizabeth nodded, her eyes roving over Frankie’s face.

  ‘Granny, did you know your mum came back for you?’ Frankie held her hands.

  ‘What?’ Elizabeth took in a sharp breath.

  ‘She came back for you and Edward.’

  As Elizabeth exhaled, her body seemed to turn to water.

  ‘Are you all right, Mum?’ Kate sprang up as Frankie slipped her arm round her grandmother’s shoulders. Kate wished she could reach out to her mother as easily.

  ‘Do you need a glass of water?’ Kate asked.

  Elizabeth nodded. James poured it for her.

  ‘Are you okay for Frankie to continue?’

  ‘I’m fine, it’s such a shock.’ Elizabeth took a tiny sip.

  ‘Oh Mum, isn’t that wonderful to know? Thank you, Frankie,’ Kate said.

  ‘It was at the time you both had scarlet fever, so she wasn’t allowed to see you, let alone take you home. But she didn’t come back again because sadly she died a few weeks later of tuberculosis, at the age of twenty-five.’

  Elizabeth took her hanky from her sleeve and dabbed the tears rolling from her eyes.

  ‘That’s so desperately sad,’ Kate said.

  Frankie poured her another glass of water.

  ‘Look at me, silly old woman,’ Elizabeth whispered.

  ‘No, you’re not.’ Kate touched her mum’s hand with her fingertips.

  ‘Sorry, Granny, I didn’t mean to upset you.’ Frankie put her arms round her. Kate admired Frankie’s openness and warmth. She longed to reach out and hug her mother too.

  ‘Don’t be sorry, dear, I’m overjoyed to hear she came back for us. I hoped for it all my life.’

  Kate hadn’t seen this tender, vulnerable side to her mum until a few weeks ago. She was like a different person now she’d let this secret out.

  Kate waved to James to start bringing the food over. Back in the kitchen, she was about to collect the cutlery when there was a light tap, tap on the front door. It was probably the postman, late again.

  She couldn’t see anyone through the crackled glass round the door. Maybe it had been something else tapping. Next door had a broken slat in their fence, but would she have heard it in the kitchen? She checked the spyhole. There didn’t seem to be anyone there, so she opened the door to check.

  In the next split second she registered Isabella’s grinning face and her arm swinging a bucket of liquid towards her. Kate screamed as it drenched her and immediately started burning her skin. James came hurtling round from the garden and grabbed Izzy’s arm as she tried to run away.

  ‘What have you done to Kate?’

  ‘Acid,’ she shouted, ‘so you can never look at her again.’

  ‘Are you fucking crazy?’ He reached out to Kate, but Izzy pulled on his arm, not letting him go. Frankie ran down the hallway, Matt behind on the phone to the ambulance.

  ‘You lied to me, James,’ Isabella screamed. ‘I loved you, but you didn’t want my babies.’ She collapsed onto her knees, sobbing.

  ‘Oh my god, what is that stuff?’ Frankie cried.

  ‘It… it’s burning.’ Kate could barely speak as her face, neck and shoulders swelled, the pain bone deep. Frankie led her to the downstairs wet room and switched on the cool shower, guiding her under the water. Kate stood there shivering.

  Moments later a police car and ambulance arrived. Kate heard Isabella screaming and crying as she was taken away.

  Kate staggered out of the shower towards the paramedic, but an iron girdle gripped round her middle. Frankie took her hand. Kate doubled over, her body ripping apart, splitting in two. As she was guided out of the wet room, her mother was standing by the kitchen door, hands covering her mouth. Seconds later James clasped his arms round her as she felt herself falling.

  Chapter Forty-Five

  Stunned by what had happened, Elizabeth said a silent prayer for Kate and the baby. ‘They say second ones are quicker.’ It seemed a useless thing to say. She feared for Kate. Could she recover from this? And if so, what if she was left blind?

  ‘I hope they get to the hospital in time. Do you think Kate is going to be okay?’ Frankie said.

  ‘I’m sure they wouldn’t want us to sit here and worry, although it’s hard not to.’ Elizabeth’s eyes were glued to Frankie. It was like looking at her younger self. All those years they’d lost. Why hadn’t she been braver? Told Kate about her childhood as a foundling sooner? It might have prevented her from leaving Frankie. She could imagine the moment Kate walked out, Frankie crying in her cot. And then her own mother, leaving twins, surely desperate to have to do such a thing. What had she been thinking when she handed them over? Did she kiss them goodbye? Avoid looking back? She would never know the agony of it.

  ‘Are you all right, Granny?’ Frankie was frowning, a piece of tomato and cucumber threaded on her fork. When Elizabeth didn’t answer, she put the fork down and took a mouthful of beer.

  ‘I just hope… Kat
e’s face…’ she shook her head. ‘I was thinking that when a woman has a baby of her own, it’s when she needs her mother most of all. In those first years of Kate’s life, I felt the emptiness of not having a mum to call upon. Thoughts of what my mother might have been like plagued me daily. From the moment I fell, truth be told. I wondered how she felt when she found out she was pregnant, if we were an unfortunate mistake. I tried so hard to picture her, to remember something of her, any tiny thing, but there was nothing. There’s a silly saying that you don’t miss what you don’t have, but I can tell you it isn’t true.’

  ‘I felt like that to start with too, Granny. Well for years after to be honest. But I never told Dad. He couldn’t bear to think of me missing out on anything,’ Frankie said. Matt sat next to her and gently squeezed her hand.

  ‘I’m sorry we share so much in this regard, I really do. I recall seeing girls out pushing prams with their mothers, parading around all showy. I longed to enjoy the simple pleasure of shopping for baby clothes with my mother, her holding up a dear little bonnet.’ Elizabeth finished her drink.

  ‘I secretly asked Santa to bring me my mother every year.’ Frankie looked down at her lap. Matt put his arm round her. ‘I’ve never told anyone that.’ Frankie sniffed.

  ‘Are you okay?’ He kissed her hair and they exchanged a brief smile.

  ‘Do you want another drink, Elizabeth?’ Matt asked, pouring Frankie another beer.

  ‘I think I’ll have a stiff port if they’ve got some.’

  ‘Did Ray’s mother help you out though?’ Frankie asked.

  ‘Not likely. Told me once she didn’t understand what Ray saw in a girl with no family and no means. Made Katherine plenty of clothes out of old skirts and patterned curtains, I’ll give her that. One time, I was helping her prepare tea and I didn’t know how to slice the bread. “Give it here,” she said, “didn’t your mother…” She stopped dead. I didn’t say a word, but she wrestled the loaf from me.’

  ‘She sounds awful! I was lucky; one of my friends’ mums took me under her wing. But there was no one else, no family nearby. I dreaded Mother’s Day and the mum’s race at sport’s day. I wish I’d had you round too, Granny. Dad was brilliant and everything, but he’d do things like cut my hair too short. I’m sure it was so he didn’t have to do plaits or bunches every morning. The children at school, especially the girls with fancy hairstyles, said I looked like a boy.’