by Sue Welfare
Natalia’s face was completely impassive. Helen meanwhile made her way backstage, her heart pounding in her chest like a drum. One of the crew unclipped her microphone; Helen made an effort to block out the sounds coming from the auditorium.
When she got to the dressing room Helen closed the door behind her, fighting the temptation to turn the key in the lock, and pressed her forehead to the cold wood, making an effort to compose herself. Harry had been wrong about one thing – Charlotte really hadn’t changed at all over the years.
TWENTY-ONE
Helen sat down at the dressing table and poured herself a glass of water. Her hands were trembling. It had been complete madness to agree to do the filming for Roots alongside her live show. What the hell had Arthur been thinking of, and why on earth had she gone along with it? Helen glanced at the clock on the wall. Arthur had promised her that he would be backstage in plenty of time for the performance – that would be his plenty not hers. She just wished that he would break the habit of a lifetime and show up early for once. No sooner had Helen had the thought than there was a knock on the door.
‘Who is it?’ Helen called.
‘It’s me,’ said a familiar voice.
Helen sighed; at least it wasn’t Charlotte. ‘Come in, Harry,’ she called.
Harry opened the door very slowly. He was still dressed in his work clothes and stood on the threshold wringing his hands. Behind him stood a tall thin young man with swept-back hair and a face that Helen recognised; it was just that she couldn’t quite remember where. His expression was one of curiosity, defiance and an uncertainty that made Helen’s heart ache. So many of the things Adam believed about himself were built on sand and lies. Helen wondered just how much Harry had already told him.
‘Are you okay?’ Harry asked Helen.
Helen nodded. ‘Please,’ she said, beckoning them inside, ‘Why don’t you both come in and let’s close the door?’
Harry looked around the room. ‘I hope you don’t mind. The man on the stage door let us in. We told him we were friends. Apparently our names are on his list, so he said we could come straight through.’
Helen nodded; she needed to have a word with Natalia about who exactly was on the list and who she had agreed could come backstage.
‘We thought Kate might be here,’ Harry added.
‘She is. Or at least she was. I saw her a few minutes ago in the auditorium,’ said Helen, pointing. And then turning her attention to the young man alongside him, she said, ‘You must be Adam.’
He nodded. He looked nervous.
Helen smiled at him. ‘Pleased to meet you. I’ve heard a lot about you from Harry,’ she said, wondering where on earth she should begin. ‘Why don’t you both take a seat – please, sit down. I could probably get us some tea if you’d like some?’
Harry shook his head. ‘We’re fine, thank you. We just came to find Kate.’
Helen could feel Adam watching her; it was hard not to stare at him, this boy who believed that he was her son. He was in his twenties with gingery gold hair, his expression fluid and unsettled. Helen struggled to place him.
‘I’ve waited a long time for this,’ Adam said nervously.
Helen nodded. ‘Your dad told me. I don’t know where to begin really, Adam. I don’t know exactly what your dad’s told you –’ she paused waiting to see if Harry would leap into the abyss, and when he didn’t, she continued, ‘I know that your mum and dad are really, really proud of you.’ She paused. ‘And they both love you very much –’
Nobody else said anything, instead both men looked at her.
‘Your dad told me that you play in a band?’
‘Yeah.’ Adam nodded. The atmosphere in the dressing room was so charged you could almost reach out and touch it. Circling the obvious, Adam took his lead from Helen and picked up on the social chit-chat. ‘We’re doing quite well,’ he said. ‘I’m out playing at gigs most weekends. We’re booked more or less right up until Christmas.’
‘That’s great,’ said Helen.
‘We’ve not got a contract or a manager or anything. We do a lot of covers but I do write my own stuff; maybe Dad said. I thought,’ Adam said, carefully, as if testing the waters, ‘that maybe I got my musical streak from you. Dad’s always told me that you’ve got the most amazing voice. They don’t say that on the telly though, do they? They only go on about your acting. I’ve watched you for years.’
Harry was a picture of discomfort; she nodded. It was coming, the moment she had known would come in Harry’s shop, the moment that couldn’t be ignored or avoided. She glanced at Harry, who raised his hands just a fraction in a gesture that said, ‘What can I do?’
‘I was going to bring my girlfriend to meet you today. But then again I thought it might be a bit awkward, you know, the first time …’
Helen took a deep breath; now was the moment. ‘Adam, I don’t know where to start –’
But before she could say anything else there was a banging and a hammering on the door loud enough to wake the dead and a second later the door flew open, framing Charlotte. She was red-faced now, her hair less coiffured. Helen wondered what she had said to Natalia, or what Natalia had said to her.
Seeing Harry and Adam in the dressing room took the wind out of her sails; whatever Charlotte had been planning to say to Helen the words died on her lips, and instead she stared at Harry.
‘What are you doing here? I thought you told me you were going to stay at the shop?’ she said in a low voice, far kinder than the one she had used on Helen. ‘You said you wouldn’t come here, you promised me.’
Harry nodded. ‘I know I did, but I was worried about you, I couldn’t let you go through this on your own, Kate,’ he said. ‘And then there was Adam to think about. He’s been waiting all these years. You’re my family, you two. I wanted to be here for you both.’
Behind Charlotte, Helen could see Natalia and the film crew desperately trying to squeeze their way past Charlotte and make their way into the dressing room.
‘Why don’t we all get inside,’ said Natalia softly over Charlotte’s shoulder. ‘We don’t want to have this conversation in the corridor, do we?’
Helen shot her a sharp look, but Natalia ignored her. It was Adam who looked from face to face, bemused. ‘Are you going to film this?’ he asked, staring at Helen as if she was responsible. ‘I thought you were just going to talk about what happened and then show some stuff about the band.’
‘That’s right,’ said Helen firmly, speaking very slowly as if the film crew were hard of hearing or stupid or maybe both. ‘We’re not filming it, are we, Natalia? Natalia and the crew are going to wait outside, aren’t you? Because whatever needs to be said is between the four of us.’
Natalia looked indignant and began to protest. ‘Oh come on, Helen, that’s hardly fair. We’ve followed the story this far – and contractually I’m not sure –’ she began.
‘Well, I am.’ Helen glared at her. ‘I want you to wait outside, please.’
‘Maybe we could pick it up later?’
‘Go,’ said Helen, pointing to the door.
Holding her hands up in surrender Natalia and the others backed out into the hallway and closed the door behind them.
When finally there were just the four of them Helen turned to Charlotte. ‘I really think that we all deserve an explanation, don’t you, Charlotte?’
‘No one calls me –’ Charlotte began.
‘I know, I know,’ sighed Helen, holding up her hands to stem the tide. ‘No one calls you Charlotte any more, but I remember you back when everyone did. You were a lot of things when we were friends, Charlotte, but I don’t ever remember you being a liar.’
Charlotte’s cheeks flared scarlet. ‘How dare you –’ she began.
‘You have to tell Adam and Harry the truth.’
Adam frowned. ‘What does she mean, Mum?’ Adam glanced at Helen. ‘It’s all right, I already know the truth; Mum told me all about it. You couldn’t bring me up. Y
ou’d just got started and got your first big job and were about to go on tour when I was born and you and Mum had always been good friends and Mum said that she’d look after me while you were away – that’s right, isn’t it?’
Spoken aloud it sounded childlike, naïve and compelling. Helen wondered just how many times Adam had repeated those words to himself over the years. Her eyes misted with tears. No one spoke.
‘Tell her,’ said Adam. ‘Tell her how you looked after me, Mum.’
Finally Charlotte turned to Helen, her voice thick with emotion. ‘Why did you have to come back?’
‘Please, Charlotte,’ appealed Helen. ‘Tell them the truth.’
Charlotte closed her eyes and made a show of composing herself before turning to Harry and Adam. ‘Adam, Helen isn’t your mother. I am.’
Adam stared at her. Harry too.
‘But you said –’ Adam began.
‘I know what I said,’ whispered Charlotte. ‘I’ve been dogged by what I said every day, every hour since I met Harry up in Scarborough and came back to Billingsfield, Adam. I’m so sorry, my love. You have to believe me. I didn’t intend to lie to you or your dad, not for all this time but I couldn’t find a way to unsay what had been said.’
Adam made a strange guttural sound. ‘But you said –’
‘Oh, honey I know, I know – but you have to believe me when I say that I love you both more than I can ever put into words,’ said Charlotte, her voice full of tears. ‘But that one little lie slipped out and that led to another lie and another one and then another, and once they were out I just couldn’t find a way to get them back in again.’
Harry was staring open-mouthed at Charlotte. ‘Adam is your son?’
Charlotte nodded. ‘I couldn’t tell you, Harry. I just couldn’t. That day in Scarborough I just couldn’t bring myself to tell you the truth. I didn’t want you to think badly of me. I was in such a muddle when we met and when you said, Whose baby is that? the lie came so easily. It was so much easier to deal with if it was Helen’s shame, not mine. You should have seen your face when I said Adam was Helen’s. I always knew that you loved her and that you missed her.’ Charlotte’s voice dropped so low Helen had to strain to pick out the words. ‘I thought that you’d help us if you thought that the baby was Helen’s.’
‘Oh, Charlotte,’ Harry whispered. ‘Why on earth didn’t you tell me the truth?’
Adam was ashen. ‘I don’t understand. How can you be my mum? All these years you told me I was hers,’ he said, pointing towards Helen. ‘All these years you’ve lied to me and to Dad. All these years I kept wondering what sort of woman, what sort of a mother could just walk away from her own child, from me. And the stupid thing was you hadn’t walked away at all – you’d stayed.’
A single tear rolled down Charlotte’s face.
‘All these years,’ said Adam, ‘there was me wondering what I had done, what was wrong with me that Helen wanted nothing at all to do with me. Do you have any idea how that’s made me feel? I used to try and persuade myself that it was because if she saw me, if she ever came back, she would be so filled with guilt and love that she wouldn’t be able to be parted from me again – that she’d snatch me away – and how awful that would be for you and Dad.’
Charlotte flinched but Adam wasn’t finished.
‘I remember asking you why and you always had some explanation, some little homily to make me feel better; but most of the time I, you know, I just thought Helen couldn’t care less, that she didn’t love me and that she never had. And what about all those cards and presents you said came from my mum? All those well dones and happy birthdays – all those lies? How could you – do you have any idea what you’ve done?’
More tears trickled down Charlotte’s face. ‘I didn’t mean it to happen like this. If Helen hadn’t come back –’
Adam laughed. ‘What do you mean if Helen hadn’t come back – did you know about this, about me?’ he said, swinging round to Helen.
Helen shook her head.
Adam let out a long sigh and shook his head. ‘Did it never occur to you that one day I’d go and find Helen and ask her about what had happened? I’ve been planning it for as long as I can remember. I was waiting for the right moment but I kept putting it off because I didn’t want to hurt you – you were so adamant, and now I know why. I’d got it all planned. What I’d say, what Helen would say – I’ve played dozens of different scenarios through in my head. It isn’t Helen who’s lied to me all this time. It’s you. How could you do this to us?’
Any bluster that Charlotte had left ebbed away and she slumped onto a chair by the door. ‘I love you, Adam, you have to believe me. I really didn’t mean it to happen this way. I didn’t think – I was working in Scarborough. I was walking along the front with you in a pram. You weren’t very old, I’d only been out of hospital a little while, and you were so lovely – such a good baby – and just this tiny little scrap of a thing. I was having to keep working and I remember that day I couldn’t get anyone to keep an eye on you. They’d been really good about me having you backstage, they’d let me work in the box office right up until you were born, but it wasn’t going to last for ever and money was so tight, and then all of a sudden, out of the blue, there was Harry walking along the prom towards me. I couldn’t believe it. It was like a mirage. I was so stunned I didn’t know what to say.
‘Harry came straight over and started to chat and asked me about the baby. He was up there for some sort of trade thing, and I just said he was yours, Helen. Just like that. Looking back it was a stupid thing to say but the words were out in an instant, before I really had time to think about what I was saying.’
‘Charlotte told me that she had been sharing a flat with you, Helen,’ said Harry, picking up the threads of the story. ‘She told me that you’d got this new job and were sending her money to look after Adam but that it wasn’t very much and you were all struggling to manage –’
‘But I’d been ringing you, Harry –’ protested Helen.
‘I know,’ said Harry. ‘But I thought you were just putting a brave face on things. It suddenly all made sense; you hadn’t come home and you always had an excuse about why I couldn’t come and see you. Meeting Kate it all fell into place.’
Helen stared at him. ‘You thought that I was lying?’
Harry nodded.
‘Oh, Harry,’ said Helen.
Charlotte smiled affectionately at Harry. ‘But he believed me. He’s always been such a kind man. He took me out for lunch and made the man in the restaurant let us park the pram right by the table. He said he’d stay and look after Adam while I did the show, and then he took me back to this little place I was renting. I made him coffee and he just looked around and said that it was madness living there, with Adam, and that I should go home with him and that we could both look after Adam till you had finished the tour.’
Helen looked from one face to the other. ‘But how did you manage to register him as mine?’
‘It was easy. Right up until I met Harry on the promenade I suppose I was in denial about the whole thing really. I didn’t see a midwife. I’d worked up until the week I had the baby.– but once I’d told Harry that Adam was yours it all seemed so simple. I hadn’t registered him so when I did I just used your name, and I knew all your details. It made everything so much easier if Adam wasn’t really mine –’
‘And then you came back to Billingsfield with Harry?’
Charlotte shook her head. ‘No, not straight away. Not for a while. But he kept coming back to see us, see if we were all right, wanting to help us, wanting to know where you were. I thought at one point that he was going to go and find you and offer you the same deal as he’d offered me, so in the end I told him that you’d met someone and it was serious and that you had asked me to keep Adam.’
‘And you believed her?’ whispered Helen.
Harry nodded.
Helen stared at Charlotte. ‘How on earth could you do it?’
> ‘I had to say something, Helen and it all fitted. It explained why you didn’t come back to get the baby. I’d seen this thing in the paper where you’d started dating some actor and it all just fell into place.’
‘Harry, how could you ever think I’d be the kind of person who’d leave my baby?’ said Helen.
Harry looked uncomfortable. ‘I didn’t, not really – but fame does strange things to people and I could see that if you were working away, being on tour was no place for a baby –’ he reddened furiously, ‘and there was the thing with your mum.’
Helen stared at him. ‘You mean, you thought it was history repeating itself?’
‘I wasn’t to know, was I? I suppose I had my doubts, I’d be lying if I said I hadn’t, but Charlotte sounded so plausible and I could see that it would have been hard for you, and you were sending her money every week.’
‘I was?’ said Helen in astonishment.
Charlotte nodded. ‘After the talent show me and Dad had this huge row, which was why I decided to leave, and then when, later, I found out I was pregnant and I wanted to come back Dad said he didn’t want me there cramping his style. His girlfriend at the time was the same age as me. They’re younger now … anyway the last thing he wanted was me rolling up with someone calling him Grandad.
‘He told me I ought to get rid of it, and then when I didn’t he said the best thing I could do was put Adam up for adoption, but then when I didn’t do that either he started to send me money. Every week. He felt guilty – I just think he was buying me off. And so I told Harry it was from you.’
‘Your dad knows about all this?’ asked Harry.
‘He’s always known,’ said Charlotte, looking at Helen. ‘You know what he’s like. For God’s sake, he even used to flirt with you when you used to come round; no wonder my mum left him. It made me feel sick. He told me right from the start that he wanted nothing to do with Adam or me. When Harry asked me to marry him, my dad said I should tell him the truth, not play Harry for a fool – but I never did think that, Harry – I didn’t think you were a fool, I never have. I thought you were wonderful, I was so touched by how kind you were and how generous. My dad said that if you loved me you’d marry me anyway.’ Charlotte paused, her voice crackling with emotion. ‘But I couldn’t take that chance.’