by Janey Fraser
‘Some of the local men got rather nasty.’ Brigid looked down at Sunshine whose eyes were still shut, arms still firmly entwined around her mother’s neck. ‘They didn’t like me anyway because I’d been doing some healing.’
Healing? So Sunshine had been right.
‘Someone in Thailand taught me.’ Brigid sounded a bit abashed. ‘Sounds a bit weird, I know, but it works, Mum. It really does. Yet it scared some of the locals, who said I was a witch. Things got really difficult when one of them threatened me with a knife.’
Vanessa gasped.
‘He didn’t hurt me badly. It was just a small cut.’ Brigid’s voice dropped. ‘But then they began to threaten Sunshine.’
Instinctively, Vanessa bent down and kissed that little soft cheek. She’d kill anyone who tried to hurt her granddaughter.
‘I knew I had to get her out. You were the only person I could trust.’ She leaned her head against Vanessa’s. ‘I’m sorry I didn’t keep in touch but I was angry with you at first and then, the longer it went on, the harder it seemed to say sorry.’
Vanessa nodded. ‘I can see that. But why didn’t you come to England with her?’
Brigid ran her hand through her greasy hair. How Vanessa itched to wash it for her!
‘It would have attracted too much attention and then they might have got both of us.’
‘What about the police?’
Brigid laughed. ‘It works differently out there, Mum. A friend of mine was going back to England so he agreed to take Sunshine. There wasn’t time to let you know. Things were getting really nasty.’
She stopped.
‘How nasty?’ asked Vanessa with a horrible feeling in her stomach.
‘They burned our house down.’
‘NO!’
Sunshine stirred again. Brigid put a finger to her lips. ‘One of my other friends, Simon, and his wife owned a house further inland; they suggested I hid there until the fuss died down. It was really remote. No mobile phone signal or anything like that. I managed to send you a postcard, though.’
‘We got it.’
Brigid looked relieved. ‘I was scared you’d think I’d abandoned my own daughter but on the other hand, I couldn’t tell you what had really happened.’ She gave a little shudder. ‘I began to attract quite a lot of curiosity in this other place and I was worried about being tracked down. Then I met Malik.’
Her voice grew softer. ‘He grew up in the village I was hiding in and had gone off to university. He’d come back briefly to see his parents who lived in the shack next to mine and we got quite friendly. When I explained the situation, he said he could get me out of it.’
As Brigid spoke, she looked down at her hand. Heavens! How had she missed that simple narrow silver band? ‘It was the only way.’ Brigid shrugged. ‘He needed to get to Britain and I needed his protection.’
‘A marriage of convenience?’ Vanessa couldn’t keep the disapproval out of her voice.
Brigid made an amused face. ‘You could say that. But the funny thing is, Mum, that I actually rather like him. And I think he likes me.’
But what about Sunshine, Vanessa wanted to say. What about me! You can’t just take her away!
‘I’d like you to meet him. He went off for a walk just before you arrived; he knew I’d need time with you. I’m to ring him when you feel ready.’ Brigid’s eyes were on hers, hopefully. ‘Is it OK if he stays with us for a bit?’
MOTHER’S DAY – THE MOST SPECIAL DAY OF THE YEAR!
Don’t forget to buy a card!
Special offer:
Two for the price of one
As seen in the window of Corrywood Newsagents.
Chapter 43
ANDY
‘YOU WANT TO report a crime that happened twenty-five years ago?’
The policewoman on the other side of the desk, who hadn’t looked much older than Mel, had taken in Andy’s weekend jacket, the well-cut brown cords and his expensive loafers. Don’t waste our time, he had almost heard her thinking. He’d leaned across the desk to talk more quietly as someone came in behind him. ‘I didn’t exactly do this thing … I witnessed it. But I should have done something. That’s the whole problem.’
Ah, her expression had said. Another rich Corrywood resident who had suddenly developed a conscience now they had a Porsche in the drive. ‘Fill in this form, would you?’ she had said politely. ‘We’ll be in touch.’
Was that it? Andy had expected someone to haul him away and throw him in a cell for questioning. He had his lawyer’s number at the ready on his BlackBerry. He’d even imagined calling Pamela from the station to break the news that he’d been arrested. But instead, the police officer had gone on to deal with the agitated elderly man behind him. ‘Bloody commuters,’ he had heard the man grumble in an accent that suggested a far superior education than Andy had had. ‘They park here to avoid paying at the station. Then I have to look out of my window and see a red Fiesta blocking my view.’
If only his own problems were as simple! Then again, it was all a matter of perspective, wasn’t it?
That had been a week ago. Since then, so much had happened! Pamela was due to return to the clinic for three days next week and, frankly, he was almost looking forward to it. It wasn’t easy to cope with this new unpredictable wife. And, unfair as it sounded, she was invading his space! He’d got used to emptying the dishwasher or putting on the washing machine. But so was she. ‘Sorry,’ he found himself saying politely when they ran into each other.
‘I have to say, Andy, you’ve become very domesticated!’ she said with an amused smile. But it wasn’t her old sardonic smile; it was a genuinely nice one. At night, she actually cuddled up to him, instead of lying flat on her back to avoid ‘pillow marks’ on her face.
It was impossible to sleep with her so close! So he started to wait until she fell asleep and then quietly turned over to have some breathing space. Yet this morning, he had woken up to find himself cuddling her! Was that a subconscious sign that he did want his wife after all?
‘Of course I care for her,’ he said when he rang Bobbie after trying – and failing – to resist the temptation. ‘But it’s weird being under the same roof all day, every day. We’ve never done that before. Besides, I can’t just go on as though nothing has happened.’
‘Of course you can’t!’ Her lovely voice, something he’d always admired about her, made him feel better instantly. ‘But you have to give her a chance. And maybe you’ll learn to like the new Pamela.’ She suddenly sounded girlish. Skittish, even. ‘Rob is different too. He’s started to make a real effort. The other night, he was actually home by nine o’clock to kiss the children goodnight.’
Secretly, Andy had half believed (almost half hoped, to be honest) that Rob had had someone on the side after all.
‘And I’ve just had another scan!’
He could almost touch her excitement. Feel her joy. Taste her new lease of life. One that didn’t include him any more.
‘You can see them sucking their thumbs! It’s amazing. By the way, there’s something else I’ve got to tell you.’ There was a more sombre note now. ‘Don’t tell anyone but I gave Rob a bit of an ultimatum. I sort of hinted that I wasn’t sure if I wanted to stay with him. Of course I didn’t mean it but it shocked him into applying for another job. It’s with a smaller agency; one that’s more family orientated. It would be a much easier journey to work so Rob wouldn’t be so stressed.’
‘Sounds great,’ he said, trying to mean it.
‘I’m sorry’, she continued, ‘about Pamela.’
‘We’ll be all right,’ he said, deliberately not mentioning their financial problems. He’d already asked Pamela not to tell her brother or mother until he’d sorted out some kind of plan. Considering his wife’s family hadn’t accepted him when he’d been wealthy, they’d probably advise Pamela to cut loose. In fact, it was amazing she hadn’t already done so.
‘What have you been up to?’ she asked chattily.
For a moment, Andy considered telling Bobbie about the ‘Know of any jobs?’ phone calls he’d been making. Describing the gushing estate agent, who had virtually rubbed his hands with glee when they’d told him they needed ‘an urgent sale’. Confiding in her about Mel who was out more than she was in, with that awful boyfriend of hers, sporting rings in his nose and probably other bits too disgusting to mention. Sharing his hopes and fears about Nattie, who was floating around in a state of dreamy excitement because she was, according to her new agent, going to be Very Big. Telling her about his visit to the police station.
‘By the way, I meant to say. I’ve asked Pamela if …’
‘DAD! DAD!’
Mel’s voice was yelling angrily down the stairs. Andy walked quickly with the phone into the conservatory for some privacy. ‘Afraid I missed that. What did you say to Pamela?’
‘DAD! NATTIE’S STOLEN MY NEW JEANS AND I’M GOING OUT RIGHT NOW! MUM SAYS YOU’VE GOT TO SORT IT OUT!’
‘Sorry. Have to go. We’ll speak another time, shall we?’
Mel was standing there, arms folded. ‘Who was that?’
He wouldn’t lie any more. He’d told himself that in the police station.
‘Aunty Bobbie.’
His lovely daughter’s face frowned. ‘So you’ve heard, have you?’
Andy felt his heart do a karate kick of fear and apprehension. ‘Heard what?’
Mel scowled. How was it that teenagers could be so nice one minute and so scary the next? ‘We’ve got to go to lunch with them on Mother’s Day. And some psycho’s going to be there.’
‘What?’
‘He’s actually a psychoanalyst!’ cooed Pamela, swanning in. He had to say, she looked amazing. Much nicer; more attractive with that extra stone or so. Then he took in the glass in her hand with the slice of lemon at the bottom. Water? Gin? Vodka?
‘Bobbie’s mother is dating Dr Know,’ trilled his wife. ‘The man who does that television series where he moves into people’s homes and tells them how to bring up their children properly.’ She gave him a knowing look. ‘But you probably know all that from Bobbie herself. Personally, I think it’s going to be rather fun.’
‘Fun!’ Mel scowled again. ‘You can count me out.’
Andy’s breath caught in his throat. So he’d be able to see Bobbie again – quite soon! But he wouldn’t be able to talk to her properly. Not in front of the others. Not next to some smart alec telling them how to bring up their kids.
‘Don’t be silly, Mel,’ Pamela was babbling. ‘Of course you’ll come. Why don’t you bring your boyfriend? The more the merrier.’
Was she serious?
‘I can’t wait!’ Pamela was getting really hyper now. ‘Can’t imagine Bobbie’s timid little mother with someone so famous.’ She tapped her glass. ‘By the way, just in case you’re wondering, Andy, this is water. Sparkling water! Try some if you don’t believe me!’
BOBBIE
Two hours to go and they’d be here. Why wouldn’t this wretched chicken cook?
‘IT’S MINE!’
‘NOT IT’S NOT, IT’S MINE.’
‘I HAD IT FIRST!’
Crash!
Bobbie paused, mid-baste, and waited. Since the parenting course had ended, she had tried, really tried, to let the kids sort it out for themselves instead of rushing straight in. Sometimes it worked. Sometimes it didn’t. One of these days, she was sure, her new non-intervention policy would result in another emergency trip to A & E. In London, she’d virtually earned loyalty vouchers thanks to Jack’s various scrapes.
‘NOW LOOK WHAT YOU’VE DONE – YOU’VE BROKEN IT.’
Objects could be replaced but not people. Wasn’t that what Matthew had said once in class? Thank goodness little Lottie was out of the woods, although, as Sarah had said on the phone the other day, they’d only just caught her appendix before it got serious. Almost as serious as Sarah and Matthew seemed to be getting.
‘I really like him,’ her friend had confided girlishly. ‘And I think he likes me.’
‘That’s wonderful!’ Bobbie had paused, wondering how to phrase the next bit. ‘By the way, I loved that jacket you were wearing. Where did you get it?’
‘Bermondsey market. Quite a bargain, actually.’
So the person she had sold it to must have sold it on!
‘MUM! IT’S IN BITS!’
Daisy’s voice brought her back to the present crisis. Uh oh. Shoving the still-pink-in-the-middle chicken back in the oven, Bobbie put her head round the corner of the lounge. Blast. A large blue and yellow china bowl lay in fragments on the carpet, mixed in with bits of phone. Jack’s new all-singing-all-dancing phone which Rob had brought back from the office as a freebie, along with one for his sister too. One of the advantages of working in advertising was that you got to try out the products. Perhaps the manufacturers could test-run the kids. See where she had gone wrong. ‘Your aunt gave us that bowl. She’ll be expecting to see it out on display.’
‘So?’ Daisy gave her a withering look. ‘You’ve always said you hated it.’
‘MY PHONE’S BROKEN!’
Well, at least it wasn’t his head.
‘It’s all right, Jack, I’ll fix it. Or maybe we’ll ask Claudette.’
There was the clunk of footsteps down the stairs followed by a square-shaped jaw and a pair of heavy blue denims. If it hadn’t been for Jilly from parenting class who had been desperate to rehome Claudette (the last family ‘hadn’t worked out’), Bobbie wouldn’t have considered having an au pair. How could she live with a stranger when it was hard enough surviving with her own flesh and blood?
‘It’s only for the Easter holidays until her new family can take her on,’ Jilly had pleaded. So she’d given in. So far, it was an unexpected success. The kids were scared stiff of Claudette so they did exactly what she said. Fantastic!
‘It is imperative that you do not argue!’ Claudette shook a thick finger at both children. ‘You attend to your mother, yes? Especially on this special day! You have given her your mothering cards, yes? The ones we make together out of dried spaghetti?’
‘They were lovely,’ said Bobbie quickly. ‘Thanks so much! Are you sure you can’t stay for lunch? I could really do with you to make sure the kids behave.’
‘I cannot.’ Claudette shook her head fiercely. ‘I do not desire to meet this man who eats children.’ What had Jack and Daisy been saying? ‘In addition, it is mandatory that I attend my kick-boxing class.’
On a Sunday? But Claudette was off, marching down the path with her bag slung across her chest and music blasting out of her headphones.
‘How about laying the table without stabbing each other?’ suggested Bobbie to the kids. On second thoughts, forget that. It would be easier to do it herself.
Ding dong. Either Claudette had changed her mind or … oh shit. They were here early! There was Mum, looking like a star-struck teenager, holding hands with a short squat man who just about came up to her shoulder. He looked much smaller than on television. Fatter too. And she could see what the critics meant about that goatee. It was almost devil-like. Still, if he made her mother happy, that was all that mattered.
‘Mum! Happy Mother’s Day!’ Bobbie wrapped her arms around her, feeling a wonderful warmth seeping through. They hadn’t seen each other since Christmas, but it was only now that Bobbie realised how much she’d missed her. Missed that lovely kind face and rose-smelling complexion and the hug that spelt out unconditional love. A maternal love that she, Bobbie, still needed, despite being a mother herself.
When did you ever learn to stand on your own two feet, she wondered. Maybe never. When her grandmother had died, some years ago, a much younger Bobbie had been shocked by the effect on her mother. Now she could see why. However old you were, you needed your mum.
‘Sorry we’re early, darling, but the traffic was much lighter than usual.’ Mum flushed, a trai
t she’d passed down to Bobbie and Daisy. ‘I’d like to introduce Herbert.’ She looked down adoringly at the barrel-shaped man beside her. ‘Herbert, this is my daughter.’
Trying to hide her disdain, Bobbie put out her hand. It didn’t matter what he looked like, she told herself. It was what he was like as a person. Besides, as Rob said, perhaps that tough no-nonsense approach was all an act on television to get himself noticed.
Wow! He had a tough handshake! Her bones felt crushed! ‘No lock on your gate, then, Bobbie?’
What?
‘Herbert, dear.’ Her mother blushed furiously again. ‘I did ask you not to mention it.’
‘But I must, Phyllis.’ Dr Know gave her a disapproving glare. ‘Every home with small children should have a gate with a lock at the point of entry between the drive and the road. It makes common sense unless you want your kids to end up on the mortuary slab.’
How rude! He hadn’t even got into their home before treating her like one of his cases on the Thursday night prime-time slot! Then again, maybe he was one of those people who began babbling out of nerves. Dr Herbert Know might be a big media name but it must be rather nerve-racking for him to meet his girlfriend’s grown-up daughter.
‘I’ll get my husband to look into it.’ Bobbie glanced at Mum questioningly. ‘Please come in. Daisy, Jack, come and say hello.’
‘Shit.’
Bobbie gasped. ‘Jack!’
Jack grinned. ‘Ohshitohshitohshitohshit.’
‘Stop! Right now!’ Bobbie’s face was puce. ‘I’m so sorry. I don’t know where he got it from.’
‘From you!’ Daisy’s voice rang out as clearly as if she was auditioning for a stage role. ‘You said it just now. When the doorbell went. You said, “Shit, they’re early.”’
‘No I didn’t!’
‘Yes you did.’
Mum’s face was indescribable but Bobbie had to hand it to her. Ignoring Dr Know, who was muttering something about soap and mouths, she held out her arms. ‘Come and give me a big hug, both of you. Goodness, you’ve grown.’