With All My Love

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With All My Love Page 33

by Patricia Scanlan


  Pretend it’s just another day, had been Valerie’s mantra that day as she cooked vol-au-vents and chips for their dinner, eschewing the traditional feast. Briony had tucked in happily, feeding her new dolly little titbits. She was ecstatically happy with her new dolls’ buggy and her nurse’s outfit. The sitting room had been turned into a hospital ward after lunch and Valerie lay on the sofa being attended to, with one eye on the TV, and gradually daylight dimmed to dusk and the glow of lights on the Christmas tree grew brighter, and the day that Valerie had dreaded with all her heart slipped away. It was with huge relief that she went back to work in the New Year, now that the ordeal of the first Christmas without Jeff had passed.

  Three weeks later, she got a phone call at work from the crèche to say that Briony was running a temperature and could she come and take her home. She had to take three days of her precious annual leave to nurse her through an ear infection because Carmel was stricken with the flu and couldn’t come up to stay.

  Being a working single mother wasn’t easy. Valerie lived in dread of phone calls from the crèche, or getting stuck in traffic and being late picking Briony up, but her friends in Dublin were kind, and Carmel could always be depended upon to help out in a crisis, so she muddled along. As the days began to lengthen and the winter turned to spring, although she mourned Jeff deeply, Valerie began to feel as though she had survived a violent upheaval and nothing could ever be as bad again.

  In early summer she got an unexpected windfall. Back money from a wage agreement and a tax rebate came with her salary cheque and she told Lizzie about it during their Sunday night phone call.

  ‘Why don’t you come over for a few days? I’d love to see you,’ Lizzie urged. ‘I’m so lonely and homesick,’ she wheedled.

  ‘Chancer, you’ve been there nearly five years!’ Valerie laughed. ‘You told me you were starting to enjoy life in London.’

  ‘I’d enjoy it even more if you came to visit. Come on and see our new flat,’ Lizzie cajoled. She and Dara had moved from Kensal Rise the previous year.

  ‘I’ll think about it,’ Valerie said, laughing.

  ‘Don’t do that, be spontaneous and just come,’ Lizzie urged.

  ‘We’ll see.’ She put the phone down and tried not to remember when she and Jeff has spent several fun-filled mini breaks in London with their friends, and Tessa had looked after Briony for them. But it would be wonderful to be with Lizzie, and she and Briony deserved some fun.

  ‘Would you like to go on an airplane and see Auntie Lizzie?’ she said to Briony the next day when she was getting her ready for the crèche.

  ‘In the sky? Where Daddy is?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Can I bring Molly?’

  ‘Yes, darling, of course you can,’ Valerie said, beginning to feel excited. Be spontaneous, Lizzie had said, so that lunchtime, having applied for annual leave, Valerie booked their flight to London for the following Thursday morning.

  Lizzie flung her arms around them in Arrivals at Heathrow, hardly able to believe that her best friend and goddaughter were standing before her. ‘We are going to have such fun!’ she declared, cuddling Briony. ‘We’re going to fly a kite on a big hill where you can see all of London.’

  ‘Sounds good. Where is it?’ Valerie asked as her friend led the way down to the tube.

  ‘Primrose Hill. It’s quite near us; we can have a picnic. It’s very posh. You might even see a film star or two,’ she said jauntily, stepping onto the Heathrow Express.

  ‘Dara’s going to meet us for a quick coffee.’ Lizzie was still beaming when they reached Paddington, and she led them across the street to an elegant pub, The Pride of Paddington, while Briony stared around at the red buses and big black cabs with their light on top, fascinated at this new exciting place. Dara had embraced them in a warm bear hug and they’d sat for half an hour catching up before taking the tube to Swiss Cottage, where Lizzie took them down a tree-lined road full of neat red-brick houses off the Finchley Road, and to the flat she now called home.

  The smell of strange spices and aromas filled Valerie’s nostrils as they climbed the stairs to Lizzie’s two-bedroomed flat. ‘An Egyptian couple live downstairs and they cook a lot of Arabic food. It rather perfumes the air.’ Lizzie threw her eyes up to heaven as she showed them into a bright airy flat, painted in shades of cream and white. Two sofas, and a huge TV filled the room, and the sun gleamed on the wooden floors, dotted with rugs.

  ‘We’re going for the minimalist look. Rather Swedish, don’t you think? Lizzie said, showing Briony her two bonsai trees.

  ‘Poseur!’ Valerie teased. ‘It’s lovely and so uncluttered. I’d never get away with that now. We could open our own toyshop.’

  The kitchen was small and compact, with a selection of cupboards that didn’t quite match. ‘Dara think’s he’s a DIY expert. Wait until you see the wardrobes,’ Lizzie grinned, leading the way into their bedroom, which was decorated in shades of off-white with the wall behind the big double bed sponge-painted with pink daubs.

  ‘It reminds me of someone with the measles, but nothing would do him but to give it a try after seeing it being done on the TV,’ Lizzie said resignedly. ‘Just as well I love him.’

  ‘Interesting, though,’ Valerie said diplomatically, and they burst out laughing.

  The break had been just what she needed, and she and Lizzie had sat up until the early hours, just like in the old days, talking about how their lives had changed, sometimes laughing, and sometimes crying.

  Watching Dara race down Primrose Hill, a huge red kite trailing behind him, and Briony, yelling with excitement, running after him, Valerie had felt unutterably sad, wishing that Jeff had been there with them. Lizzie had seen the look on her face and wordlessly reached out, caught her hand and squeezed it.

  Boarding the flight home on the Sunday, Valerie knew she would be back. This was the first of many such visits. It would be something to look forward to, something to keep her going when she was missing Jeff with all her might.

  Tessa heard Lorcan’s car start up, the gravel crunching under the tyres as he drove out onto the road. She listened as the sound of the engine grew fainter and reached out for the cup of tea he had left on her bedside locker.

  It was pelting rain. She could hear the relentless onslaught against the windows. She sipped the hot tea, then put the cup down and snuggled back under the bedclothes, letting them fold around her. She glanced at the clock. Just after six. The house was empty and silent, the loneliness, sorrow and despair seeping through the walls. ‘Jeff. Jeff. Jeff.’ She called his name and convulsed into sobs, weeping unrestrainedly, knowing she could not be heard, relieved that she could grieve without upsetting the rest of her family.

  She wept until she was drained and then she lay exhausted, reliving the horror of that life-changing day when her son had died. She looked at the clock again, wishing she could sleep. Seven thirty. Her heart lurched. When it was her day to mind Briony, Jeff would arrive with her at half seven and the little girl would run into the house eager to see Tessa, ready for the adventures they would have and the games they would play. Tessa missed her grandchild greatly, now more than ever. Briony was their kith and kin, their last link with Jeff. It was cruel of Valerie to disappear the way she had, taking their grandchild with her. It was abduction, no more no less, Tessa raged. She had to confront her; there was no other way around it. Christmas, the worst of their lives, had come and gone, and Carmel had refused point-blank to take the Christmas presents she had bought for Briony or to give Tessa Valerie’s new address.

  ‘Please, Tessa, stop harassing me. I have to respect my daughter’s wishes. Please understand that. I feel terribly sorry for you and maybe time will heal, but for now leave me be,’ Carmel said wretchedly.

  Tessa had felt like murdering her. She didn’t care if Carmel was upset with her – couldn’t the woman understand how desperate she was to see her grandchild? Remembering her grief and frustration during those dark days of the fe
stive season, Tessa came to a decision. She would have to take the matter into her own hands.

  She jumped out of bed, wrapped her dressing gown around her and hurried downstairs. She took the telephone directory into the kitchen and flipped the pages until she found the large entry for Dublin Corporation. She found the address for the department Valerie worked in and wrote down the address and telephone number. She made a mug of tea and took a map of the capital out of a drawer in the dresser, poring over it until she was familiar with the route she planned to take. For the first time since Jeff died, Tessa felt a sense of purpose. She showered and dressed, and just after ten she dialled the number she had written down.

  ‘Could I speak to Valerie Harris, please?’ she said to the girl on the switchboard, hoping her voice didn’t sound as shaky as she felt.

  ‘Just a moment while I put you through,’ the receptionist said pleasantly. Tessa’s fingers curled around the phone cord and her heart began to thump.

  ‘Hello, Valerie Harris,’ she heard a familiar voice say briskly. Tessa hung up immediately. Valerie was at work – that was all she needed to know. She grabbed her bag and car keys, locked the door and hurried out to the car, her fingers trembling as she switched on the ignition. She had to take a chance that the passage of time would have helped Valerie to realize just how unfair her actions were to Briony, Jeff’s family and Jeff’s memory. Tessa spun the steering wheel, slipped into gear and began her journey to Dublin, veering from sickening deep dread to wild optimism as the miles flew by.

  She could eat lunch on the run and do her grocery shopping, Valerie thought, instead of doing it after she’d collected Briony from the crèche, when they’d both be tired. She hurried down the steps of her workplace, anxious not to lose a minute of her lunch hour, and failed to notice the woman in the black trench coat take a step towards her. She was mentally going through her shopping requirements when she became aware of her name being called and she turned, still preoccupied, and felt a sickening thud in her stomach when she recognized Tessa.

  Dismay was swiftly replaced by fury. ‘What are you doing here?’ she demanded angrily, stopping in her tracks.

  ‘Valerie, we need to talk. It’s wrong of you to keep Briony away from us, from Jeff’s family. He wouldn’t want it. He’d be appalled. Surely you know that. Surely you know that you are not acting in Briony’s best interests, depriving her of a loving family unit. You are being thoroughly selfish.’ Tessa’s accusations were like a punch in the stomach.

  ‘How dare you?’ Valerie’s lip wobbled, stunned at the other woman’s onslaught.

  ‘I dare because Briony is Jeff’s daughter—’

  ‘Briony is my daughter, and I will raise her in a way Jeff would be proud of, Tessa. I haven’t forgotten how you treated me when he died. I’ll never forget it or forgive it. Now get out of my way and don’t ever come here again.’ Valerie’s voice shook and she brushed past Jeff’s mother and didn’t look back.

  Tessa watched Valerie race away from her and knew she had lost her grandchild. She hadn’t meant to sound accusatory – her intention had been to placate – but Valerie’s evident antipathy had raised her hackles and her tone had been unintentionally strident and confrontational.

  ‘You fool, Tessa,’ she cursed herself as Valerie disappeared around the side of the building, leaving her demoralized and shaken at yet another hostile incident with Jeff’s partner.

  Valerie felt physically sick getting into the car. Tessa’s unexpected reappearance in her life had thoroughly rattled her. Fear raced through her. If Tessa had tracked her to work did she know where she and Briony lived? Did she know what crèche Briony was in? Would she take it a step further and take her from the crèche? It was unthinkable. But not beyond the bounds of possibility. Agitated, she turned off the engine and got out of the car. She needed to ring the crèche supervisor and make absolutely sure that Briony was never to be collected by anyone unless Valerie had left specific instructions. Tessa was a loose cannon and not to be trusted.

  For months after the encounter Valerie worried that Tessa would do something untoward, and she hated Tessa for the added stress she now endured. Her attitude towards Jeff’s mother hardened even more and Valerie determined that Tessa would never be part of Briony’s life, no matter what.

  On the first anniversary of Jeff’s death, Valerie flew to London again, to be with Lizzie and Dara. There had been no contact with Tessa since the confrontation outside the office, and for the first time Valerie felt Tessa was out of their lives for good. Briony had started school and seemed happy, having made a few friends, and gradually she stopped talking about her grandparents and Rockland’s. It grieved Valerie that she didn’t talk about Jeff as much either, but she felt it meant her daughter was adjusting to their new circumstances, and to a degree she was herself. She had got over the first year of her life without Jeff and had made a home for herself and her daughter. That could only be something to be proud of.

  *

  My Darling Briony,

  I know today is your eighteenth birthday and I hope that you are very happy and fulfilled in your life. Now that you are of an age to make your own decisions it would give your granddad and myself so much joy to meet with you and to get to know you and talk to you about your wonderful dad. You are always in our thoughts, our hearts and our prayers. You are now and always have been very precious to us, and to your aunt and uncle.

  It would be lovely if you could get to know your cousins. They are all longing to meet you and we have so many memories and photos to share with you.

  Please know, darling, that our door is always open to you and we have never stopped loving you.

  With all my love,

  Gramma xxxxxxx

  Tessa reread what she had written, and added her phone number under her signature. She folded the letter neatly and slid it into the envelope.

  That afternoon she drove past The Triangle and turned down the street where Carmel and Terence lived. She took a deep breath before knocking on the door.

  Carmel answered and Tessa got a shock when she saw the other woman’s careworn appearance. Valerie’s mother had aged considerably. In fact she didn’t look at all well.

  ‘Oh, it’s you. What do you want, Tessa?’ Carmel asked tiredly.

  Tessa swallowed hard. ‘Carmel, I know it’s Briony’s eighteenth birthday today and I’m begging you to send her this letter. You’ve had the joy of her all these years – can you not find it in your heart to show Lorcan and me some compassion and send her this letter so she can at least make a choice herself whether to get in touch or not? Please, Carmel, on my bended knee I beg of you,’ Tessa pleaded.

  Tears sparkled in Carmel’s eyes and Tessa felt a surge of hope.

  ‘Please,’ she entreated again.

  ‘All right, Tessa, give it to me. I’ll post it to Briony,’ she agreed. ‘I do understand how hard it is for you and Lorcan but, you know, if you had left Valerie alone to get over her grief all those years ago, I think she would have relented and got in touch. You pressurized her, Tessa, and you upset her and you lost whatever chance you had.’

  ‘I know,’ Tessa sighed. ‘Believe me, I know.’

  ‘I’ll send it to Briony, Tessa, but it’s up to her whether she replies or not.’ Carmel looked flushed and flustered.

  ‘Thank you, Carmel, I appreciate it. I’ll always be grateful,’ Tessa replied.

  ‘Who will I say it’s from?’ Carmel said, her eyes suddenly cloudy and unrecognizing.

  ‘From me – Tessa. Jeff’s mam,’ Tessa said, perturbed.

  ‘Of course. Don’t mind me, my memory’s gone to pot,’ Carmel said hastily.

  ‘You will send it? This afternoon, if possible?’

  ‘Certainly,’ Carmel said firmly, and closed the door.

  Tessa walked slowly down the path. She wondered if the other woman was unwell. She certainly looked pale and wan. But Carmel had agreed to post the letter and Tessa had no doubt that she would. In her own quiet
way Carmel Harris was a woman of principle.

  Please, please, Jeff, she begged silently, let Briony get the letter and let her get in touch.

  Carmel wrote Briony’s address on the stamped envelope and placed it on the hallstand. She was in plenty of time to catch the five o’clock post. Tessa was right: Briony should have a chance to contact her grandparents if she so chose. Valerie could argue the toss with her about it but Carmel would stick to her guns. Briony was eighteen now, old enough to vote and old enough to make her own decisions.

  She felt terribly weary. This lassitude that was affecting her made her want to sleep and made her forgetful. It was disturbing. Something wasn’t right with her but she couldn’t figure out what it was. She’d go and lie down for a while. She’d probably feel better after a little rest.

  Carmel fell into a restless doze and woke with a start an hour later. She felt muzzy. There was something she had to do, she remembered, but what was it? She got up and wandered out to the kitchen to make herself a cup of tea. She’d need to start the dinner. Terence would be in from work soon and he’d be cranky if his dinner wasn’t waiting.

  She cooked chops, potatoes, cabbage, but forgot to turn on the gas under the carrots. Never mind, he could eat them raw, she decided, blessing herself as the Angelus bell rang at six. It was a lovely spring evening, she thought, opening the back door. She took a chair out, sat in the sheltered warmth of the back yard and felt a tranquil peace envelop her as she raised her face to the sun’s rays.

  Terence opened the front door, caught the aroma of cooking and sighed with relief. Carmel was cooking his dinner; she must be having a good day. She was beginning to behave rather strangely, forgetting things, buying groceries they didn’t need, on one occasion going down the village and leaving the front door wide open for any intruder to walk in and help themselves. He had a terrible fear she was going doolally.

 

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