A Mother's Secret

by Minna Howard

  They drove in silence through the dark. She thought of Darren who should be the person here beside her and felt a flash of anger with him that he was not. She sensed that Ivor was thinking of him too. Neither of them mentioned him though his presence hung over them like a ghost.

  They reached the hospital. Even if she and Darren were still together, he would be in the US, she reminded herself, as he’d planned – before they broke up – to come over in January when it was due.

  She had a sudden longing to ring him, to hear his voice, but Ivor was helping her out of the car now and leading her across the road into the hospital. He was so tender with her, sitting beside her while they waited for a doctor to come, so calm and caring that it made her feel foolish for wanting Darren who no longer loved her.

  To keep her mind off things, Ivor told her his brother-in-law was in the army and had been away when two of his children were born, so he’d driven his sister and her friend to the hospital when she was in labour.

  It was typical of Ivor to be kind to someone in their hour of need, she reminded herself, remembering other acts of kindness he’d carried out for people when they were at university together. He hovered outside the cubicle while the doctor examined her and then she called him in.

  ‘I’d better admit you and Daddy in as a precaution, see if things settle down.’ The doctor smiled at Ivor, she looked tired after a long shift. ‘You can rub her back, it helps sometimes.’

  ‘It’s not his,’ Saskia said quickly, remembering his relief when she’d said she’d manage the baby alone, just as her mother had done. Also it was embarrassing for him to be made to feel obliged to help her in such intimate circumstances.

  ‘Oh, so does the father know or want to be here?’ the doctor asked, unfazed by her answer, having seen so many combinations of parents over the years.

  ‘No, he’s in the States. He’ll be told when its born,’ Ivor said quickly. ‘I’m just an old friend who lives in the same house as she does, and brought her in.’ He turned to her. ‘Perhaps you’d like to contact Verity or one of your girlfriends? Though I’ll stay with you until they come if you like. I won’t leave you alone.’ He took her hand and held it a moment, regarding her with concern.

  She felt awkward now. She’d had no more contractions since she’d left the flat. She felt safe here with the doctor and a friendly nurse who had come to move her somewhere else. She thought of all her friends and wondered which one to contact at this time of night, and whether they would want or be able to sit with her through perhaps hours of labour? And what if that woman she heard with Ivor on the stairs that night was waiting for him in his flat?

  ‘Perhaps it’s a false alarm,’ she said. ‘I wouldn’t like to keep you here if you… need to get back.’

  Perhaps guessing she knew about the woman going up to his flat so late, he said, ‘No, it’s fine. Bethan came back the other night, remember her?’ He regarded her slightly defiantly. ‘You know it was over between us. It was just for old times.’

  ‘Fine, nothing to do with me.’ She hoped she sounded as if she didn’t care – and she didn’t, did she?

  She was overcome by a moment of panic. A tear ran down her face, and she scrubbed it away impatiently.

  Ivor saw it and gave her a hug. ‘I know this must seem so difficult without your mum or Darren,’ he said, guessing her thoughts. ‘Let me contact Verity, I’m sure she’ll come. I’ll stay if you want, but maybe…’ He left the rest of the sentence unfinished.

  ‘It’s two in the morning and things seem to have quietened down now. It may have been a sort of practice run,’ Saskia said, not knowing much about childbirth. She should have read up about it, or gone to the special classes, but she’d ignored her pregnancy as much as she could and now she’d been caught out. ‘Don’t let’s disturb anyone now. You remember I sent Verity a text saying I was here. She’ll come if she wants to or anyway send me one back to find out what’s happening.’

  She was taken up to a side ward and, once settled, she checked her phone to see if there was a text from Verity but there wasn’t. She’d sent it late so perhaps she hadn’t seen it yet. The contractions seemed to have stopped, though Ivor insisted on staying as she could not summon anyone else to stay with her at this hour.

  ‘Nothing might happen, but I don’t want to leave you alone, especially as there seems to be a lot of activity going on in the ward,’ he said. ‘Besides I don’t much feel like going out into the cold and the dark again.’ He settled down on a chair beside her, and soon fell asleep.

  She studied him, unable to sleep herself. Asleep, his face was relaxed, making him look younger than he was. A lock of hair fell over his eyes. He looked so peaceful, she didn’t want to disturb him, though she felt so alone. Twice she almost rang Darren but stopped herself. What could he do so far away? And would he really care?

  No one came near her. Her door was slightly open, and she could hear sounds from the ward beside her room. The nurses were rushed off their feet as two babies were born that night, but not her little one staying quiet inside her.

  When the day staff came on, she was examined again and suddenly there was a rush and a bustle and they swept her into theatre for a caesarean, saying the baby was distressed.

  When they told her what they must do, she snatched Ivor’s hand, holding it tight and begging him to come with her. She was terrified of going through this alone. For a moment he worried that as he was not the father or a relative, he might be refused but the team had no time to worry about such things and he was given some scrubs to wear and hurried in with her. She wanted Verity but she hadn’t answered her text. She pushed away the thought that she didn’t want to get involved, so had ignored her message.

  Saskia lay with a tent-like structure covering her stomach so neither she nor Ivor, sitting by her head, could see what was happening. A short while later, she was told she had a daughter, but there was no sound, no plaintive cry, from her.

  She saw a flash of fear in Ivor’s face before he turned to her, struggling to reassure her. He tenderly wiped her face with a damp cloth someone had given him, smoothing back her hair and murmuring words of comfort. She couldn’t take them in, so tight was her fear. Didn’t babies always cry the moment they were born? She didn’t dare ask but clung to Ivor.

  ‘It’s okay,’ he said gently, though she could see the doubt in his eyes as he struggled to soothe her.

  The baby, whom she hadn’t seen, had been whisked away to the side of the room. A doctor was standing over her. The silence was agony. Her child was dead, she thought. She clutched tighter at Ivor’s hand. He laid his face close to hers, whispering words of comfort. She’d gone through all this for nothing.

  There was a tiny squeak then a cry and the relief spun round the room like a wave. Ivor grinned and kissed her cheek. A nurse brought the tiny scrap over to them for an instant before hurrying her away in an incubator.

  THIRTY-THREE

  Verity felt bad about not picking up Saskia’s message until the morning after she’d sent it. She’d had the phone on silent and had not looked at it while she was with Jen and Alex. She tried to ring her on her mobile as soon as she saw the text, but it went straight to voicemail.

  Maybe she’d got her dates wrong or it was just a false alarm that first-time mothers often experienced. Ivor had taken her to the Chelsea and Westminster hospital. She rang the hospital to find out if she was there but was told it was ‘confidential’.

  She sent her a brief text saying she’d only just got her message, she hoped all was well, and she’d contact her when she’d finished work. There was nothing more she could do just now; she could not let her students down.

  She worried that perhaps Saskia was miscarrying, which would be very distressing for her. Perhaps she would find that a relief after she got over the pain of it. Though she doubted it, she seemed determined to be like her mother and soldier on alone. She prayed it was just a false alarm and all would be well.

  She’d
run down to the chemist to buy more makeup in her lunch hour and she got back to the college with plenty of time to eat the salad she’d bought for lunch and finish marking some essays, before her next class. To her dismay, she saw Justin hanging about outside the building, his hands thrust in his pockets, scuffing his feet in the ground. She sighed; he was the last person, apart from his father, she wanted to see. He was supposed to be in her class later this afternoon but, as far as she knew, he did not have a class in one of his other subjects today, so it was a surprise to see he was over two hours early.

  There was no way to avoid him now unless she hastily changed tack and hurried off in another direction. But that was cowardly. Why should she allow him and his father to intimidate her?

  He looked up and saw her. He seemed to have lost that cocky look, the touch of scorn as he studied her. He bit his lip, glanced away and then as she came nearer to him, he took a small intake of breath and approached her.

  ‘C… can I talk to you?’ He looked sheepish as if he was ashamed.

  Close up she could see how pale he was. He seemed diminished, so very young, and despite her finding him a nuisance, she felt sorry for him. He was only seventeen, she reminded herself and the staff here prided themselves on caring for their students and helping them to overcome any problems they had. Justin seemed to have more than his share of confidence, but perhaps he just masked his fear well. She knew his father refused to accept that his son would not achieve the marks needed to get into a top university, though he expected, because of the sort of family he came from, to have success handed to him on a silver salver.

  ‘Of course,’ she said now. ‘What can I do for you, Justin? Shall we find an empty classroom?’

  ‘I’d like to stay outside,’ he said.

  ‘Okay, if that’s what you want. How can I help?’

  He took a few steps away from the entrance to the college. ‘I don’t know who else to tell.’ He looked ashamed.

  This surprised her. He must know how she felt about him always fooling about in class, never getting his homework in. She’d taken to ignoring him, while the other teachers she’d spoken to about him said they tried to carry on as normal, including him in everything, even if he did nothing.

  ‘Tell me how I can help, if I can,’ she said bracingly, wondering if he was going to ask if she could give him higher marks or something. Unused to his timidity, she was slightly worried about him now.

  He wrestled with his thoughts a moment then burst out, ‘It’s my father. He hits my mother. She’s weak. He gets angry with her. I don’t know what to do.’

  His news initially shocked her. As far as she knew no one had ever seen his mother.

  ‘How long has this been going on, Justin?’ she asked gently.

  ‘I don’t know. Mum’s a quiet person, she stays in her room listening to her music, but last night, he got angry and I heard him shouting at her. I opened the door and saw him hit her, knock her to the floor. I told him to stop and would have hit him but there was a friend there, Paula. She told me it was an accident and Mum was fine, and to leave it alone.’ He looked so young and forlorn she was tempted to hold him. She put her hand on his arm.

  ‘You are very brave to tell me, and we must do something about it,’ she said. ‘Are you an only child, Justin?’

  ‘No. I have an older half-brother, Rob. He’s married, lives in the country.’

  ‘Could he help you? Is your father or mother his parent?’

  ‘My father. Rob’s mother divorced him long ago and then he married Mum. He used to love her but now… well, he has other women.’ He hung his head as if it were him who was the monster.

  Verity was relieved that she did not have a class just now and could give Justin time. ‘I’m not an expert in this sort of thing but it’s good you’ve told me. We must talk to Tony. He’ll know what to do. Does your mother have anyone she can go to?’ Verity felt out of her depth now. It was no wonder Justin had been acting out so much.

  ‘She has a friend she could go to, but if she leaves Dad, he said he’d divorce her, and she’d have nothing. Dad’s rich, Mum has nothing,’ Justin said. ‘I don’t think she’d leave him.’

  ‘She needs to see a lawyer. She doesn’t have to stay in such a toxic relationship and if they divorced, he’d have to make sure she has enough to live on,’ Verity said.

  She remembered seeing a documentary about bullying and how the victim often felt for some reason that it was their fault and that they deserved it. It was way above her experience, but Justin had chosen her to confide in, she was his only female teacher in the college, and perhaps he felt she might understand more, contrary to his father, who, as far as she knew had not bullied any of them. She must do everything she possibly could to get him and his mother help from the right people.

  This story sent a shiver down her spine. She had not yet had the opportunity to tell Tony how Mark Gilmore had been lurking around her house in the dark, hoping to intimidate her. It was a relief she’d managed to escape him. She remembered how charming he could be and how Delia had flirted with him.

  Justin seemed relieved he had offloaded his story, and though he then tried to backtrack, saying his father was going away on a business trip so they’d be all right for a while, Verity was determined to deal with the situation at once.

  ‘Can you persuade your mother to leave him when he is away?’ she asked him.

  ‘I don’t think so, but she’s happier when he’s gone,’ he said as if that made things all right.

  ‘I bet she is but then he comes back and hits her again.’ Verity felt furious with this bully of a man, thinking of how he had tried to intimidate her. She couldn’t bear to think of his wife, Justin’s mother, dreading his return home. She’d heard of victims unable to leave toxic relationships but she was not trained in dealing with such things and this she said to Justin after praising him again for his courage in confiding in her.

  ‘But you need professional care, you and your mother and probably your father too. Tony and Sarah – you know who I mean? She’s trained in dealing with students concerns. They can help you plan your next steps, and keep it all confidential,’ she assured him. ‘And I’m here if ever you want to talk. But, what about your older brother, could you stay with him awhile?’

  ‘Yes, he’s always asking me to stay. He lives in Newmarket and has a stables with racehorses.’ His voice was wistful. ‘I love riding whenever I go there, though it’s not often.’

  ‘Would you like to work with horses?’ she asked, having never seen him so animated.

  ‘Yes, but Dad won’t let me. He says I’ll never make money that way,’ he said forlornly.

  ‘There’s more to a happy life than making money,’ Verity said. ‘Look, if Tony is free, will you come with me now and tell him what you told me? We could also talk to Sarah. They can help you more than I can though, I’ll give you my mobile number to ring me whenever you need to talk.’

  He was reluctant, but with a little more persuasion she managed to get him inside the college and to her relief Tony made time for them. Justin asked her to stay in the room with him. Tony did not seem fazed by Justin’s story, having come across that sort of parent before. Sarah, a large and comfortable woman, took Justin over as Verity had to take her class, and he seemed relieved to go with her.

  Verity did not see Justin again that day. The girls asked after him when he didn’t turn up for the class. She told them she didn’t know where he was and to get on with their work. Later that afternoon, Tony asked to see her.

  ‘I’m relieved we’ve settled that. We both knew it was a waste of time having Justin here. His father has already left on a business trip, but I’ve sent him a letter saying Justin has fallen too far behind to get the right exams and he no longer wants to continue with his studies here. He’s going to go and stay with his brother. Apparently, he has horses and could do with some help at the stables.’ He smiled. ‘Who knows, he might become a famous jockey or trainer.’
r />   ‘That would be wonderful, horses for courses,’ she joked.

  ‘Exactly.’

  ‘So, what will his father do about it? He won’t just let it go when he returns from his trip,’ Verity said. ‘And his mother? She’s sounds vulnerable too.’

  ‘Sarah’s spoken to her. She’s got family who’ve been begging her to leave him for ages. They will help her,’ Tony said. ‘Justin will probably have to give a statement, but I think he’ll cope with that and be far happier doing something he loves.’

  ‘His behaviour was perhaps his way of calling for help and now it has been answered. I hope things work out for him.’ Verity got up to leave. She must try and contact Saskia again.

  This time Saskia answered her mobile.

  ‘I’ve had a little girl, but she’s in intensive care. Please come and see us if you have time.’ Saskia sounded tired and anxious. ‘Ivor was wonderful, stayed with me all night. I’ve told Darren, but he’s not dealing with it well. I suppose it’s hard for him having not been there.’

  Verity, hearing the fear in her voice, ignored her own exhaustion and set off for the hospital at once.

  THIRTY-FOUR

  Saskia was settled in a side room beside the main ward after her delivery. It was past nine o’clock and Ivor had to go in to work, though he seemed reluctant to leave her. He was pale and tired and she felt near tears, wishing he could stay with her but determined to let him go and not tell him how terrified she was that her tiny daughter would not survive, even though the doctors had told her she was doing well.

  ‘I wish I could stay with you.’ Ivor guessed her feelings. ‘But I have some important meetings, with people coming in especially, but I’ll be back this evening.’

  ‘Of course, you must go. I… I can’t thank you enough for being here with me. It’s all been so scary and you have been such a comfort.’ She felt exhausted and longed to sleep, though she was afraid to be alone to come to terms with what had happened. She felt bereft when he left, dropping a kiss on her forehead before turning and hurrying away.