‘But – your name – my name is Clifford,’ she stuttered as thoughts began to overcome distress.
‘I used the surname of the family who took you on, hoping it would stop you finding me. If it hadn’t been for Aunt Flora leaving you the cottage you never would. Did it for spite, she did. She always hated me, and this was her revenge, bringing you here to pry and ruin everything.’
‘Perhaps she wanted to leave it for you but couldn’t find you?’
‘She knew how to find me all right. D’you know how she found you? I’ll tell you. A burglar, breaking into her cottage when she was on an overnight stay. How’s that for bad luck! This thief talked about you and she set Philip onto you like a terrier after a rat, and look what he came up with: a daughter I’d tried so hard to forget!’
The words didn’t penetrate Amanda’s brain. All she could think of was that this woman was her mother.
‘Please tell me, why did you give me away?’
‘I was fifteen and very ambitious. How could I face bringing you up on my own? I had a career to build. Dammit all, girl! Aunt Flora was the only family I had and she hated me. I managed on my own, why couldn’t you? I wasn’t able to help you. There was the stigma of an illegitimate child – I couldn’t face it.’
Yet she had two children, Amanda thought curiously, herself and Roy. And now she was causing lively gossip by spending nights with Rhys. Stigmas and scandals could be managed when it suited her, it seemed.
‘What shall we do?’ she asked. ‘I mean do you still want it kept secret? Is the ‘stigma’ still there?’ Amanda was shivering with shock, her legs were in imminent danger of giving way. Surely she wouldn’t be turned away? She looked at the expression on Jessica’s face searching for a glimmer of hope.
‘I’m going back to America. I don’t want these small-minded people looking down on me for something that happened when I was still a child.’
‘But we’ll keep in touch? You’ll want to know about me now we have met? I’d like to know about you.’
For the first time Amanda saw distress in her mother’s face. Perhaps, she thought with relief that made her shake even more, Jessica wasn’t as hard as she pretended. But Jessica said, ‘I made my decision twenty-four years ago and I’m not starting to regret it now. You were born in a farm shed with an old woman to help me. She bundled you up and you were given to a couple foolish enough to want you. I heard they died a year or so later and you ended up in a Children’s Home. I did check to see if you were safe, but that’s all I did.’
‘But now I’ve found you, don’t you want to know me?’
‘I’ve learned all I need to know. Goodbye, Amanda. Don’t try and reach me.’ She walked away leaving Amanda white and too shaken to move. After a few yards, Jessica turned.
‘I suppose you’ll tell Rhys?’
‘Yes,’ Amanda said in a small voice. ‘And Catrin. Philip has guessed, I think.’
‘Yes, damn him. That’s the only reason I’ve told you. You wouldn’t have been told otherwise. But no one else. Right?’
‘Oh, I’ll have to tell Roy, of course.’
Jessica increased her pace until she was running. If she heard Amanda’s last remark, she didn’t reply. She was running away from her daughter and the memories of a sadder time and Amanda didn’t try to stop her. At least she had learned the most important thing, who her mother was. She had learned a most important lesson too, she wasn’t wanted now any more than at her birth.
It was a long time before Amanda could walk back to the cottage. Even that was spoilt for her. Aunt Flora had left it to her out of spite, so she would be led to Jessica Maybury, or Sian Talbot, who would reveal the sordid truth about her birth. A dirty shed and the ministrations of some old woman. Secret and shameful.
Her first task must be to tell Roy. Hating the life Roy had led and the numerous times she had been embarrassed by him, the friends she had lost because of his behaviour, all these things now seemed of little importance. She had found their mother.
Forgetting Philip, she ran into the cottage and fell on the bed stunned by the revelations of the past half hour. From when she was a small child she had imagined a scene in which she and her beautiful mother would greet each other with delight. Mother would explain how she had to leave her adored child. She would understand, and they would promise never to lose each other again. The reality was far from the fantasy. Jessica was going back to America, almost as far away from her as it was possible to go.
She heard voices downstairs and guessed Philip had come looking for her. She stood up and began to wash her face. It was no use hiding. The truth was out and she had to live with it.
She brushed her hair and tried to calm herself before walking downstairs and facing Catrin and Philip. Philip glanced at her distressed face and guided her to a chair. Catrin handed her a steaming cup of tea.
‘You know?’ Amanda asked.
Catrin nodded. ‘Philip and I guessed. We couldn’t tell you, dear. It had to come either from your own deductions or from Jessica herself. You’ve worked it out? All of it?’
‘It was a complete surprise,’ Amanda whispered, tears hovering.
‘How does Jessica feel about you?’ Philip asked. ‘She must be thrilled to have such a lovely daughter.’
‘Oh yes,’ Amanda said bitterly. ‘So proud she’s off to America as fast as she can go!’
It was after Philip had gone and the two women were discussing the implications that Amanda asked about Aunt Flora. ‘Jessica said she’d left me the cottage out of spite. Did she mean left it not to her, but between Roy and me? She implied it was left to me to bring me here where I might learn about Jessica, or Sian I suppose I ought to call her.’
‘I only remember Flora as an elderly woman who had once worked as a parlour maid in one of the larger houses. She never talked about her family. I have no idea what Jessica meant by spite, dear.’ She didn’t look at Amanda as she spoke and Amanda had the feeling she was hiding something. What else had she to learn that would distress her? Was it something about her father? Was that another shock in store? Catrin reassured her on that.
‘From what I have gathered from general gossip and rumour, dear, your father was a married man who moved away to live in London after his marriage all but broke up. Strange, isn’t it, so many stories about unhappy families and in such a tiny village as Tri-nant?’
Later that evening as a sort of codicil to the day’s happenings, Amanda spoke of her love for Rhys. ‘I’m very fond of him,’ she began, wondering how much she could tell Catrin who, after all, was Rhys’s aunt. ‘But, knowing he’s had an affair with – my mother – I can’t think of him in the same way any more.’
‘You think they had an affair?’
‘I’m sorry, Catrin. I shouldn’t be talking to you about this, but there isn’t anyone else.’
‘I don’t object to hearing it, but are you sure you’re right?
‘About Jessica and Rhys? There’s no doubt. She’s been staying at the bungalow and with her own house only a few miles away it’s impossible to imagine an innocent reason.’
‘I wouldn’t know. But Jessica’s devious enough to think of one!’ Catrin touched Amanda’s cheek affectionately. ‘Why don’t you talk to Rhys? Tell him all this and don’t make up your mind until you have the facts.’
‘Please don’t tell him how I feel,’ Amanda begged. ‘What’s the point?’
‘Because if you don’t discuss this and sort it out you’ll spoil my plans. I thought from the moment we met that you were right for Rhys. I didn’t think I’d have to leave the cottage, you see dear. If you two married, you can hardly live in both and the bungalow is much larger.
‘I’m so miserable,’ Amanda whispered. ‘And everything could have turned out so wonderfully.’
Catrin stood up and hugged her. ‘Unless you clear the air with my nephew, you’ll spoil things for Philip too. I intended to invite him to be my lodger!’
‘So that was your little p
lan!’
‘Seems I was wrong, unless you and Rhys can sort out your differences, dear.’
Amanda wanted to run to Rhys and insist on talking everything through, but she was unconvinced about his non-involvement with Jessica – her mother – and so did nothing.
She knew she had to tell Roy and, the following morning before school, she knocked at the house where he lodged. There was no reply – he started his garden work impressively early these days – so she left a note asking him to call. A few days later he did. But when he came to look for her she was not at the cottage and he went to Rhys’s bungalow and found her there.
Roy’s thick fair hair had grown into a tightly curled mat, which with his intensely blue eyes made every woman’s expression soften with admiration. Invited in, he strolled through to the lounge in his confident way and sat in a chair overlooking the garden.
‘Hi, Mand,’ he said, as she looked up from the papers on which she was working. ‘What’s this you want to talk about then?’
‘I’d rather not talk about it here,’ she said, while Rhys was attending to drinks. ‘Can’t you come to the cottage later?’
‘Not really, Mand. Got a date, see. Me and Gillian is going to the pictures. I think her Mam and Dad are softening towards me, now they haven’t seen a police car for a few weeks.’
‘I’ll talk to you tomorrow then.’
‘Don’t worry, you can talk privately here,’ Rhys said and went out into the garden.
‘It’s about Jessica Maybury.’ Amanda touched Roy’s arm, trying to soften the blow. ‘She’s our mother.’
‘Never!’ He walked away from her to hide his agitation. Surely she’ll realise we’re not related now she’s discovered her mother, he thought with sickening disappointment. His chance of sharing the cottage was fading fast.
‘She refuses to acknowledge us though,’ Amanda went on. ‘She said I was born in some old barn with a woman from the village helping with my birth. I was so shocked, I didn’t ask about you. But it must have been something similar.’
‘Now there’s a thing, eh, Mand? Us related to a glamorous woman like her.’
‘Only a child she was. Fifteen years old. I suppose we should understand how impossible it was then, but why doesn’t she accept us now? Too late for any scandal to harm any of us, after all this time.’
Roy looked upset, wary even, but then he smiled, as if in sudden revelation. ‘Talking daft she is, Mand. Made it all up.’
‘No, she was speaking the truth. Pretends about her age though. I suppose it would give the game away, wouldn’t it, admitting to us?’
Rhys returned to replenish their drinks and with great deliberation, Roy talked about anything but the discovery of their mother’s identity. He alone knew Jessica was not his mother, only Amanda’s, that he and Amanda were not brother and sister. If she found out, there was no chance at all of her giving him a share of the cottage. Once she had agreed to make him a half owner, persuading her to sell wouldn’t be that difficult. Strong sense of fair play, Amanda had. And playing on brotherly love was going to make everything simple.
Before Roy left he made some admiring remarks about Rhys’s home. ‘I’ll have a place furnished smart, like this place one day,’ he said. ‘Filled with souvenirs of my travels. Mind, I haven’t been further than Cardiff so far,’ he laughed. He commented on several items and Rhys explained their origin. Roy was particularly interested in the masks.
At the door, he smiled and thanked Rhys for the pleasant hour. ‘I like the house Rhys, specially them wooden masks and things. A bit creepy mind, specially the one of the wide-eyed man with a monkey on his shoulder.’
Rhys frowned as he closed the door behind him and turned to Amanda.
‘Now when would he have seen that?’ he asked. ‘This is supposed to be the first time he’s been in my house, isn’t it?’
‘He had a good look around,’ Amanda said, dread in her heart for what he was thinking.
‘He’d have needed a very thorough look. Can you see it?’
She glanced at the shelves and shook her head.
‘No, you can’t. Because I put that particular carving away after the burglary as it’s of great value.’
‘You think he was the burglar?’ Amanda asked sadly.
‘Don’t you?’
After he had explained his suspicions about the accident in which he was sure Roy was also involved, she could only agree.
11
A few days later Catrin asked if Amanda had any plans for the evening. On being told no, she picked up the telephone and began dialling. Amanda didn’t hear all of the conversation but heard Catrin say, ‘Can you come over?’ As Philip was their most usual visitor and he only needed a knock on the wall to invite him in, she was curious.
‘Who are you ringing?’
‘Rhys. I am inviting him here and I am going out! It’s time you two silly people talked to each other.’
‘There’s nothing to say.’
‘Say what’s in your mind. Be truthful and sort out your differences for good,’ Catrin said firmly. ‘I can’t bear seeing the two people I love most in the world so unhappy when there’s no need.’
‘Where are you going?’
‘To talk to Philip.’
Rhys arrived about ten minutes later.
‘Where is she?’ he asked, smiling. ‘Don’t tell me she asked me to come and then forgot!’
‘No, Catrin went out deliberately.’
Amanda stood near the window looking out into the quiet garden. Birds were flitting about and a cat stalked threateningly across the lawn, made larger by the late evening shadows. She was remembering how happy and excited she had been at the thought of living in this cottage, that had once been owned by distant members of her family.
Now she had found the one person whom she had always thought would make her happiness complete: her mother. The end of that search had meant losing Rhys, and the end of her contentment.
‘What is it?’ Rhys asked, puzzled by her silence. ‘Has something happened?’ He moved towards her but she hastily stepped away to avoid the contact that would have undone her. She couldn’t tell him. She couldn’t.
‘It’s just that I don’t want to be involved in any more of your photography trips. That sort of thing isn’t really for me.’
‘Why?’ he demanded.
‘It’s become rather boring,’ she said, intentionally hurting him in her determination to keep the meeting brief. ‘With the best of summer still ahead of us I want to do more exciting things. I want to dress up again, wear feminine clothes to remind myself I’m a young woman. For me, wellington boots are out from now on.’
‘You mean I’m boring!’
She didn’t answer. Something funny was happening to her throat and she was afraid her voice would let her down. How could she answer, when she was destroying her only chance of happiness? She straightened cushions, giving herself time to recover.
‘You told me you wanted to revisit the cave. D’you mean you didn’t enjoy our last trip? It was all a pretence?’
‘Once was interesting, but I wouldn’t want to spend every weekend doing such uncomfortable things.’
‘You moved in here with my aunt, giving the impression you liked us, that you felt we were almost a family to you. Through us you’ve established yourself in the village and now you’ve achieved that, we can go hang!’
‘That isn’t true. I’m very fond of – Catrin.’
‘But not me? Well, I won’t be bothering you any more!’
She continued to stare into the garden, waiting for him to leave. Before he could do so, Catrin came in.
‘Hello, Rhys, dear. Will you stay for coffee?’
‘No thank you.’ He didn’t say another word, he just walked from the room and hurried away.
‘What happened?’ Catrin asked, a frown of concern on her kindly features. ‘Did you tell him about Jessica’s announcement?’
‘No, I just told him goodbye.’ Am
anda ran to her room, leaving Catrin open-mouthed, staring after her in dismay.
* * *
For the next few days, Amanda went through the motions of her work without any real thought. She deliberately closed her mind to her feelings, numb with the knowledge that her mother had rejected her for the second time and had succeeded in taking Rhys from her.
She had concern only for little Jane, who became a kindred spirit. She discussed her situation with no one and remained islanded in her misery.
Catrin and Philip were aware of her unhappiness but made no attempt to persuade her to discuss it, knowing she had to work things out for herself. Heather unwittingly added to her rejection by saying casually, ‘I saw Rhys and Jessica leaving for the airport with masses of luggage. Where has he gone this time?’
‘America, I presume,’ Amanda said, as if it didn’t matter.
‘Just as well,’ Heather said, bitterness making her expression harsh. ‘I have the feeling you were getting too fond of Rhys. A life with him wouldn’t be much fun. You’d spend all your anniversaries alone.’
Amanda didn’t reply. It wasn’t his absences she minded, it was the thought of him making love to the woman who was her mother.
Amanda was aware of a difference in Heather and she wondered what had happened to make the usually pleasant young woman tense and full of anger. Unbelievably, she was rarely seen with the girls. It was usually Haydn who brought them to school, but sometimes a neighbour would meet them and take them home for the afternoon and that was something Heather would never had permitted only weeks before.
The school gate looked strange without her lonely figure standing there. Amanda knew she should be pleased but instead the change made her uneasy. Besides Heather not being with the girls all the time, there were other changes.
Whenever Amanda called at the James’s house, loud music could be heard long before she reached it. For several days at a time Heather would be playing Mario Lanza singing ‘Because You’re Mine’. Then it would change and Alma Cogan would be belting out ‘Bell Bottom Blues’ for days on end. Frankie Laine was a constant favourite and Amanda sympathised with Haydn for having to listen to the same record, however good, hour after hour. She wondered how Haydn could work with such a racket. But besides the irritation there was a serious worry. Philip had told her of the obsession with music that had accompanied Heather’s previous depression, when she had left Philip. Amanda was afraid there was going to be a repeat.
The Tangled Web Page 19