Another Mother: a gripping psychological family drama

by Amanda James

  ‘Okay, I won’t.’

  ‘Since Neil and my parents died, I have trouble controlling my temper. Only sometimes, don’t worry.’ She winks and nudges me again.

  I force a smile but say nothing.

  ‘I saw a shrink and he said that given the shock of it all – their deaths being unexpected – and all the stuff in my past’—she pauses and gives me a meaningful look— ‘it wasn’t surprising that the grief and abandonment I felt came out in the shape of anger and frustration. He also said that a lot of it was because I was blaming myself for events, and when I lashed out, I was really lashing out at myself.’ We both watch her fingernail flick at a patch of sand on the top of the wall. Then she takes a deep breath and continues.

  ‘He taught me some calming techniques and it helped for a while – so did the happy pills. Then after I stopped taking them it became more difficult. I’m normally able to handle it now though.’

  I watch her expression struggling with feelings under the surface again and wonder what she blames herself for. ‘You mean you felt guilty about giving me up?’ Mellyn nods and looks at a family playing on the beach. ‘I can see that, I guess, but how can you blame yourself for the deaths of Neil and your parents?’

  ‘I don’t really, not deep down. But you see, grief has no logic, according to Doctor Henver. I knew I could have done absolutely nothing to prevent them dying, but there are little voices that whisper in your ear in the wee small hours. “What if?” and, “If only I had done this, that, or the other.” Oh, and not forgetting, “It was your fault he was on the ladder – you should have paid for a man to do it.” This one really gets to me, even though Neil insisted we weren’t spending good money on getting someone in, when he was just as capable.’

  I can understand what she means about grief. ‘It must have been hard. My friend and neighbour, Adelaide, helped me when Mum died. She told me that grief has no set pattern or master. I felt guilty because I couldn’t cry, didn’t know how to behave, how to feel even.’

  Mellyn puts her arm around me and I rest my head on her shoulder. ‘Oh dear, Lu. I’m sorry for being so insensitive, that’s another one of my failings. I know it’s not been so long since she died. I’m just too self-centered.’

  ‘I’ve not noticed that. It’s only natural that you focus on your own problems when you’ve just been …’ I pause and think about how to describe what happened in the gallery, ‘… a bit upset.’ It’s all I can come up with.

  ‘Going batshit crazy you mean,’ she says with a little laugh. She scrubs her fist on her nose as if she has an itch. ‘I just looked at that stuff and thought what a cop out, you know? All those people like me and you working their arses off to earn a crust, and they … they just vomit on a canvas and call it a masterpiece. Or switch a few light bulbs on and get shed loads of dosh. My dad thought the same about modern art. I could hear him saying it just then inside, and then all the sadness and loss kicked me in the gut … set me off.’ She turns to face the gallery and folds her arms. ‘The outside of the building is so much more beautiful than its contents.’ She catches my look and removes the haughty tone. ‘Look. I’m really sorry, must have ruined your day and freaked you out.’

  I agree but can hardly say so. She does look sorry though and the explanation has made her behaviour a little easier to understand. ‘I don’t share your view on modern art, but you’ve told me what happened, so let’s put it behind us. The day isn’t halfway through yet. How about we go and grab that pasty for lunch and then look round the sales?’

  She slips her arm through mine. ‘That sounds more like it,’ she says, a huge smile on her face, her eyes sparkling with excitement. I’m rocked on my feet. The weight of her sorrow lifted so quickly that I can’t help but wonder if it had been genuine at all. ‘Now, I know the exact place! It has the best pasties in Cornwall and it’s right opposite a lovely clothes shop. Come on, best foot forward.’ Mellyn squeezes my arm close into her side and hurries us down the street.

  As I walk along beside her listening to her gunfire narrative on the best shops, eateries, pubs and entertainment in the area, all I can think about is the way she often seems to change her personality. It’s as if someone has flipped a switch in her head. I noticed it the first day when she’d been so upset telling me about my grandparents’ death, and then minutes later everything was okay again. She admitted just now that she had struggled with her emotions at the time, but that she was normally okay. But I worry that Mellyn might have a skewed view on what normal behaviour was. I also worry about how I’m supposed to respond to it. Today has been an eye-opener and if I’m going to be of any help to my mother I’ll have to keep both permanently wide open and watch for the signs.

  12

  ‘If I hear the words, “Of course you need an extra pair of hands, but just hang on while things pick up” once more, I swear I’m out of here, Nadine.’ Rosie kept her voice calm, but she knew there would be no mistaking the quiet anger running through it, or the way her knuckles paled as her fingers gripped the broom handle.

  Two high spots of colour appeared on her boss’s pale cheeks as if crayoned there by an invisible child. An invisible child who had a very set idea of what a clown looked like, or possibly an eighteenth-century actress. Nadine had no pompadour wig, but her platinum hair, styled in a high bouffant bob, did a good impression. Rosie watched her plump red lips ruche into a pout and her brown eyes darken in a glower. ‘I hardly think that’s the right approach, Rosie.’ Nadine nodded a warning towards the open dining room door. ‘And this is certainly not the place for open discussion.’

  Rosie swallowed a curse as her boss picked an imaginary bit off fluff from her black skirt and then walked towards the kitchen. Incredible. If she thinks this is over, then she can damned well think again. She followed in Nadine’s wake, heart thumping, the broom held across her body in both hands like some pretend rifle. It was a good job it was just pretend, given the way she was feeling right now.

  Nadine’s round behind rudely presented itself as she bent over the dishwasher. Dear God. Rosie put down the broom and covered a smile with the back of her hand; Nadine must have been so worried about her threat to leave she was prepared to risk chipping a nail. ‘What are you doing?’ she asked, yet the answer was blatantly obvious. It would be great to make sure she wasn’t having an hallucination though.

  Nadine straightened up, her two red cheek spots spreading to the rest of her face. She placed dishes on the counter and blew down her nostrils. ‘What does it look like? Giving you a hand, as I do most days … though I don’t think you notice.’

  The gall of the woman. ‘Really? You empty the dishwasher most days?’

  ‘No. But I do all sorts of bits and bobs.’ Nadine bent over the dishwasher again. ‘You know – just to make your job easier?’

  ‘What bits and bobs, exactly?’ There was no way she was getting away with this.

  Nadine whirled round, eyes like coals. ‘God, I don’t know! Stuff! I thought I would help out here after you just threatened to flounce out, and all I get is twenty sodding questions!’

  ‘You unloading the dishwasher isn’t enough. This place needs another pair of hands, even if it’s part-time. I can’t keep working flat out like this. I’m twenty-seven and when I get home I just fall asleep in front of the telly.’ Rosie felt her shoulders go back and she stuck her chin out for good measure. ‘And by the way, I never do that.’

  ‘Never do what?’

  ‘Flounce.’

  Nadine narrowed her eyes. ‘If you say so.’ She shut the dishwasher and leaned her bottom against it. ‘There just isn’t the money for part-time staff. We have a chef, a cleaner and you. We are a boutique hotel, not The Ritz.’

  Was this woman for real? ‘A chef who cooks breakfast and that’s it. He leaves all the ordering to me and the kitchen like a bomb site, which I then have to clean. A cleaner who works three jobs and cuts corners because you pay her pennies, and no, it’s not The Ritz, but we have room fo
r thirty guests and they need some bloody looking after!’

  ‘I am aware that you work hard, Rosie, but you make it sound as if you do it all. Alan and I—’

  ‘Alan and you sit on reception for half an hour now and then, while I’m running around the place like a blue-arsed fly. The rest of the time you’re missing, usually off out lunching God knows where, or playing golf.’ Rosie’s heart raced, and she couldn’t stop her words from matching it. ‘I take the bookings, sit on reception, serve breakfast, talk to guests about the area and offer advice as if I’m a mini tourist information service, talk to folk like old Frank when they need an ear, clean up after the cleaner, order the food, organise the clean linen, strip and change the beds, and so many more things …’ She could tell by the shutters slowly coming down across Nadine’s face that her words were falling on deaf ears.

  ‘Look. For one thing I don’t appreciate you ranting at me, and for another, I’ve told you we don’t have money for a part-time—’

  ‘Okay.’ Rosie undid her apron even though her fingers felt like somebody else’s; she had no control over them. They flung the apron on the counter and then she heard herself say, ‘I’m handing over everything to you right now. Watch carefully as I leave the kitchen, Nadine, not a flounce in sight.’

  The question ‘What have you done?’ repeated inside her skull with every step she took as she hurried away, but the answer came back: ‘I don’t care. It was about time I stood up to that supercilious, lazy, good for nothing piece of—’

  ‘Rosie!’ Nadine yelled, and footsteps echoed along the corridor behind her.

  ‘What?’ If that woman was going to try and wheedle her way out of trouble yet again she wouldn’t answer for the consequences.

  ‘Stop and listen before I have a heart attack.’

  ‘I’ve stopped and I’m listening.’ Rosie looked at Nadine’s heaving bosom and mad pompadour hair.

  ‘Okay, you win. Get a part-time helper but I need to vet them first.’ She patted her hair and looked beyond Rosie’s shoulder. ‘Now I’m off for a lie down. I feel quite giddy.’

  Once she had the corridor to herself Rosie leaned her head against the cool wall and took a few calming breaths. She allowed herself a little smile. At last she’d got her way, and hell, did it feel good.

  Seated at reception, Alan shook out his newspaper and held it shield-like in front of his face as though he was trying to block out Rosie’s. This was his response to her telling him she’d be gone an hour and he should expect Mr and Mrs Barrow before three. He was normally borderline rude, but because of her showdown with Nadine, had obviously crossed the border. Well tough. If he was determined to act like a spoiled brat, perhaps she’d take another fifteen minutes, just to make a point.

  Oh good, Lu was seated by the window with a nice view of the harbour. Such a pretty woman but she needed to smile more. Rosie crossed the road and hurried into the café. It made a change to get out and meet someone for coffee, in fact she couldn’t remember the last time she had actually gone out for anything, let alone coffee with a friend. Microwave supper, wine, and falling asleep in front of the TV was a routine that she needed to break free of.

  ‘Hi, Lu. You got a good table.’

  Lu smiled and her face lit up. That was a cliché, but hers really did. Her green eyes shone with genuine warmth and her wide smile encouraged whoever she was with to copy it.

  ‘I was lucky. Just as I came in a couple were leaving and I grabbed the table before anyone else could,’ she said moving her bag from the second chair at the table. ‘How are you?’

  ‘Better than I have been in a while actually. I stood my ground with Nadine and eventually got what I was after. Well, I hope I have. I wouldn’t put it past her to try and wriggle out of it.’

  ‘Sounds intriguing. Let me get you a coffee and then you can tell me all about it.’

  Rosie wondered if she’d said something to upset Lu. After she’d told her about the morning’s altercation with Madame Pompadour, as she liked to think of her, Lu’s expression had become wistful as she sipped her coffee. Occasionally a frown furrowed her brow and then smoothed again, as if tugged by the tide in the harbour.

  ‘Are you okay? You’ve gone bit quiet.’ Rosie knew what a companionable silence felt like, and this wasn’t it. Had she been too gushy and chatty? She hoped she hadn’t put Lu off with her eagerness to become friends.

  Lu looked away from the window and at Rosie, a half smile on her face. ‘I think I am, yes. I was just pondering on something … an idea, but I’m not sure if it’s a good one.’

  ‘You can run it by me if it helps?’

  Lu placed her cup carefully on the saucer and cleared her throat. ‘It does concern you actually. Okay, I was thinking of extending my stay here. I want more time to get to know my natural mother, but mainly I think I should stay longer because I think she’s struggling a bit.’

  ‘In what way? Financially, or—’

  ‘No, with her …’ Lu shrugged and her neck grew red. ‘I don’t really want to go into huge detail. It wouldn’t be fair telling you …’ Rosie watched the colour rise into her cheeks. ‘I mean, I don’t know you very well, and—’

  ‘Please don’t feel you have to – I do understand.’ Rosie took a sip of coffee and wondered if she had froth on her top lip. Lu certainly seemed to think so the way she was looking at her face, or was it just a glazed ‘deep in thought’ stare? She wiped a napkin across her mouth and said, ‘So you said it concerned me?’

  ‘Hm? Oh yes, sorry.’ Lu’s eyes focused and she treated Rosie to the wide smile again. ‘If I was to stay here, I would need some kind of a job. I was wondering if this part-time help you mentioned would need experience … and what exactly this person would be doing.’

  Two good things in one day. Marvellous. ‘You’d be interested? It would be great if you were, it’s so important to find someone who I’d get along with and I’m sure we would work well together, and it would mean I wouldn’t be searching for ages to find someone and—’

  Lu held up her hands and laughed. ‘Hold on, no more ands. I have to know more about it first.’

  Rosie laughed too and tried to calm her excitement. ‘Sorry, course you do, and I’ll warn you the pay won’t be great.’

  ‘It doesn’t have to be. I have some savings, but I do need something coming in.’

  ‘Okay. You would just be helping me, doing everything I do. So, reception, bookings, serving breakfast, ordering food, sorting the laundry, changing beds …’

  ‘You certainly earn your money,’ Lu said. ‘I have A levels in English, Sociology and History. I had experience in my last job dealing with customers, and orders. I’m no stranger to a dishwasher and I’m sure I could get the hang of serving breakfast. I mean, how difficult could it …’ She stopped at Rosie’s raised eyebrow. ‘I mean, not that I wouldn’t welcome your guidance in all of it. I’m sure there’s more to it than meets the eye.’

  Lu’s voice went unnaturally high at the end of that sentence and Rosie thought she’d put her out of her misery. Her comments had rankled a little, however. ‘No, there’s not that much really – mostly just hard work. I never did A levels, so I can’t complain if I ended up in a job that requires little skill.’ She leaned back and folded her arms. ‘So, what were you, then, a manager of something?’

  Lu looked at the table and said in a small voice, ‘No. I wasted my education. Ended up as an office worker in a small firm that makes windows.’

  Although feeling less awkward about her own perceived lowly occupation after hearing this, Rosie could see that Lu was upset. ‘No education is ever wasted.’

  Lu nodded. ‘But I could have done so much more. The problem was that I never felt confident enough to go for my goals. It all stemmed from being adopted. I never felt good enough, because I imagined there must have been something wrong with me somehow, even though my adoptive parents were the best in the world and never gave me cause to feel like that. Silly now I know the truth
. Relationships with guys have been a disaster too.’ She looked at Rosie and shook her head. ‘Anyway, because of all that, I recently decided to change, be a more confident person. I tried to big myself up to you, chucked in my qualifications – qualifications that I never used – I’m sorry.’

  Rosie patted Lu’s hand, then removed it for fear of seeming too familiar. This poor woman had a lot of baggage, but she liked her. Lu had such honesty and the guts to tell it like it was: very refreshing. ‘No need to be sorry. You were selling yourself to me, so of course you would highlight your successes. It’s only natural.’

  ‘I don’t think I’ve had many of those,’ Lu said with a wry smile.

  ‘Ah, but it depends how you look at it.’ Rosie knew she was good at pep talks and looking at things in a different way. One thing she had in abundance was people skills; she suddenly realised that she was bloody proud of what she’d achieved. ‘For example. This morning I got one over on Madame Pomp – I mean Nadine. It might not seem much on the surface, but it was a success.’ She put her head on one side and wagged a finger at Lu. ‘And as everyone knows, small successes lead to big triumphs.’

  ‘Is that a saying?’

  ‘Yes, I said it.’

  Lu laughed, and her face did the lighting up thing. ‘No, I mean is it a real saying?’

  ‘No. I made it up just now, but it sounded good and, more importantly, it’s true.’

  ‘I guess it is. So, what happens about me going for this job? Do I have to approach Nadine?’

  ‘No, you have to approach me.’ Rosie wrinkled her nose and twisted her mouth to the side. ‘Which actually you just have, and I say yes. Yes, come and work with me, and we’ll have a ball. Well, perhaps not a ball, but we should have a laugh now and then.’

  ‘What, just like that?’