by Amanda James
She’s right, but it’s not as simple as that. Mellyn desperately wants the title of Mum to affirm her importance in my life. To signal that she means something to me, to the world. I shrug and put the jewellery back in the drawer. Perhaps my brain will poke me awake again tonight with this dilemma. I fold my arms and look at Rosie. ‘I see my adoptive mother as my mum still. I see Mellyn as my other mother, so for now I’m calling her Mellyn or Mel. I might try Mum in a week or so.’
‘Sounds like a plan. Right, I must be off.’ She pauses in the doorway. ‘I’ll see you tomorrow at six thirty in the kitchen, okay?’
‘Okay. What shall I wear?’
‘Black trousers or a skirt, comfy shoes and a smartish shirt of some kind? You’ll be helping me serve breakfast. Then later, anything comfy really, because you’ll be cleaning and running about like an insect with a blue bum.’
I can forget my snooze. A pair of black trousers or a skirt needs to be bought. ‘Great, thanks. See you then … and Rosie?’
Already a few steps down the corridor she turns and looks at me. ‘Yeah?’
‘Your skirt’s tucked into your knickers.’
Rosie grabs at her bottom with both hands while twisting her neck to try and see. ‘No it’s not … is it?’ One look at my face and she sighs. ‘Payback, huh? Very funny, Lu. In fact, hi-lar-ious!’ She flicks a duster at me and disappears down the stairs.
Before going out shopping I brush my hair and retouch my eye make-up. I tell my reflection that if somebody had said a few months ago that I would be looking forward to starting work at stupid o’clock, doing menial tasks for low pay, I would never have believed them. It’s true though. I am in control of my life and my future for the first time ever, and I’m determined to make a difference to Mellyn’s. I’m so looking forward to going out for dinner with her this evening and springing my big surprise. At least I know that there will be no storm brewing, because Mellyn will be over the moon.
14
An exotic insect preserved in amber. That’s what it’s like to be at the centre table, alone, overdressed – ridiculously so – bathed in the orange glow from the lamp in front of me and painfully aware of surreptitious glances and more blatant stares from other diners. Decorated with fishing net and strewn with lobsterpots, Jack’s Crab Shack is not the kind of place Mellyn had led me to believe. I did wonder when she’d said the name of it on the phone, but her hushed tones and reverent description of Jack’s as the best place for seafood in the area had convinced me that dressing up was appropriate.
‘You need to come done up, and wear all your new jewellery,’ Mellyn had said. ‘You never know, the Cornish paparazzi might be there!’
The place is packed with holiday makers in shorts and sandals. A few children race around pretending to be aeroplanes, men laugh raucously and down pints of cider, and then there’s me in high heels, a low-cut green figure-hugging dress, made up to the nines, hair curled and pinned at each side with sparkly clips and dripping in jewellery. I look at the clock. Where the hell is sodding Mellyn? The cool evening air sneaks in with a customer and I’m reminded of the night of my thirtieth birthday. My escape is just through the closing door …
The closing door is now flung back again and slammed to announce Mellyn’s arrival. My embarrassment is complete as all heads turn in her direction and then back in mine as she says at a theatrical pitch, ‘Darling! How absolutely divine you look tonight!’ Dressed in jeans and a T-shirt she hurries towards me, arms outstretched.
She kisses me on both my heated cheeks and then pulls her phone from a pocket and demands that I smile. ‘Mellyn. Everyone is looking at me. Just sit down and—’
‘And so, they should! You look wonderful tonight!’
Her finger clicks a few times regardless of my stunned expression and the flash leaves white spots in front of my eyes. I look down at the table, but she still clicks away. What the fuck is wrong with her? ‘Stop that and sit down, or I’m leaving.’ Quiet fury accentuates my every word.
Still looking at the table I hear her chair scrape back and see the phone tossed on the table in front of me. After a few seconds she says, ‘So what’s your problem this time? Is it because I’m a few minutes late?’
Incredible. Has she really no idea? And a few minutes late – more like fifteen. I want to raise my head and look at her, but I need more time to get my racing heartbeat under control. I fiddle with a fork. ‘No. It’s because I have been sitting here in the middle of the room like an overdressed idiot. Overdressed, I might add, because you said I should. People have been staring at me.’
I pause and take a breath to try and remove the tremor from my voice. I look up and into her eyes; her expression is neutral. She appears to be listening as if we were just having a normal conversation. I want to yell, but that would draw even more attention. Through gritted teeth I finish, ‘Then you came in and started taking bloody photos of me. I am embarrassed beyond belief.’
‘Well it’s about time you showed some spark. You’ve been too passive so far,’ Mellyn says and laughs. ‘Can we get a menu over here, Jack?’ She waves at a rotund man behind the bar.
I look at her grin and picture myself slapping it from her face. ‘Did you set me up to see how I would react?’
‘No.’ She looks up to the left and twists her mouth. ‘Well, kind of. I wanted to show the town what a stunning daughter I have, and you normally look so dowdy.’
I have no reply that’s anywhere near suitable. My eyes moisten, and I don’t know if I’m more furious with myself for letting her get to me, or her for being such a complete cow. I blink and decide she’s won the toss. ‘Look. I know you have had a shit life and have issues, but please don’t dump it all on me. It’s really not fair. And I was so looking forward to tonight because I had a surprise for you, but now I’m not sure it’s a good idea, Mellyn.’
I feel the tremor in my voice but I’m relieved that it sounds strong, determined. I can see that the continued show of strength and no-nonsense approach has wounded. She deflates in front of me, all her show and bluster disappearing along with her manic grin. Good.
Her hand creeps across the table towards mine. ‘Surely you don’t think I wanted to hurt you?’
I fold my arms and lean back in my chair. ‘No. Of course not. I mean, you just did what any loving mother would do, didn’t you? Humiliate, insult … oh, and make me the laughing stock of the restaurant. How could anyone be hurt by that?’
Mellyn puts her hand over her mouth and shakes her head. Tears well and she dabs at them with her napkin. ‘I …’ She takes a few deep breaths. ‘I am so sorry. I honestly thought you would like to be the centre of attention. And when I said dowdy, I meant that you hide your beauty under ordinary clothes. You’re an exotic butterfly, my darling, and you should spread those wings.’ She looks down at her hands and sniffs.
Either she’s a bloody good actress or she’s deluded enough to think that setting me up like this will make me happy. Either way it isn’t great. I’m torn between getting up and walking out and trying to comfort her. She looks so vulnerable and clearly distraught. Thankfully Jack comes over and saves me.
‘Hello, Mellyn, what can I get for you?’ He talks to her, but his eyes sweep me up and down, linger on my chest. ‘Great jewellery … er?’
‘Meet my beautiful daughter Lu,’ Mellyn says, her face once more miraculously transformed into sweetness and light.
Jack draws in the fleshy folds on his bald forehead, which welds his almost mono-brow together. ‘You never said you had a daughter?’
‘That’s because we are only just reunited.’ Mellyn takes my hand across the table. I allow it. She gives me a grateful smile. ‘Yes, I foolishly gave her up for adoption many years ago.’
‘You didn’t have much option as I understood it,’ I say, taking my hand back.
Mellyn nods and opens her mouth to say something, but Jack gets there first. ‘That’s nice for you both.’ He stands back, looks at us, and rubs his
hands absently over the stained white apron straining across his belly. ‘You look similar, most attractive.’ He takes a pencil from behind his ear and poises it over his notepad. ‘So, what can I get my favourite customer tonight?’
‘My usual lobster special, Jack. I suggest you have the same, Lu – it’s to die for.’
Jack appears to smile but his lips just stretch as if they’re under duress – on their best behaviour. His dark eyes twinkle but with something akin to contempt rather than humour. Mellyn looks at me, head on one side, oblivious. ‘Yep. Sounds good,’ I say. I can’t give a stuff what I eat at the moment.
Jack nods, takes our drinks order and leaves. Mellyn leans forward and whispers, ‘Did you see his face when we ordered the lobster? God, he was fuming.’
‘I noticed he looked disgruntled, what was wrong with him? You’d think he’d be pleased that we ordered the most expensive thing on the menu.’ While I was waiting for her to arrive, I’d had ample time to study the large blackboard at the end of the room. The lobster special was at the top of it, along with the price.
She giggles and says in a low voice, ‘Yes, but it’s on the house. It always is when I come here. Jack’s a sly one and Neil was another. We all know what happened to him though – got what he deserved – the bastard.’ She flaps her hand at my expression of distaste and whispers, ‘Anyway … I’ll tell you why I get free food here later. You never know who’s listening.’
Jack comes back with our wine and we sip it a silence that grows deeper and more awkward with each swallow. I try to rationalise her behaviour yet again and wonder if I have the strength to keep riding the rough with the smooth. The rough is dominating our fledgling relationship; perhaps it can never take flight into the happy blue yonder.
‘So, what was the surprise you had? I do hope I haven’t ruined it. Please accept my apology and know that I would never, ever do anything to hurt you. I’m just not very good at being a mum, am I?’ Mellyn has her earnest face back on.
Should I tell her, or make something up and go home at the end of the week as I had planned? I have never wanted to see Dad and Adelaide as much as I do right now. I think about the brief chat I had with Dad yesterday. The relief in his voice was palpable when I’d told him I was fine and that Mellyn was nice; I hadn’t mentioned her mood swings. He’d worry if he knew it all. Adelaide did know some of it, and also that I was thinking of staying here for a while, but I’d sworn her to secrecy. Her wise words had fluttered down the line like little sugar fairies, their wands magically waving away my doubt and strengthening my resolve.
‘Okay,’ I say, picturing Adelaide in my head along with a dozen sugar fairies. ‘I can see you’re sorry. The surprise is that I have a job at Pebble House. I want to stay here longer so we can get to know each other properly. I hope that’s what you want too.’ I blurt my words out in a rush before I have time to overanalyse them.
Both Mellyn’s hands fly to her mouth and she makes a noise in her throat that sounds like a cross between a giggle and a sob. ‘Oh, Lu! That is the best news I have ever heard!’ She half rises as if she’s about to fling her arms around me, then notices my cringe and sits back down. ‘We must order champagne to celebrate,’ she gushes, casting excited eyes about for Jack.
‘No. This wine is fine. I really have had enough of people staring at me this evening – an ice bucket would be the living end.’
‘Whatever you say, my dear.’ Mellyn takes a gulp of wine. ‘And I promise I’ll be on my best behaviour from now on. Anything you don’t like, just tell me and I’ll zip this big gob of mine. I want to make you happy.’ She raises a forefinger and holds my gaze. ‘You know what half my trouble is? I haven’t had the practice of being a mum. It’s only really occurred to me I suppose. But I will get better, you can be sure of that.’
‘Well, now I’m staying for a while you’ll have plenty of practice.’ I smile, and she returns it, but I note a flicker of what might have been annoyance in her eyes. Perhaps she wanted me to say she doesn’t need improvement. Well, she can piss right off.
Jack arrives and places two huge plates on the table, each groaning with a lobster and all the trimmings. ‘Bon appetite,’ he says through a small mouth.
‘You’re such a magician with food, Jack,’ Mellyn purrs. He gives a brief nod and just as he turned away she says in a condescending manner, ‘And could you send a bottle of your finest wine over when you have a minute? There’s a love.’
‘I’ll pay for the wine,’ I say. It’s clear that Jack is well and truly fuming as he stomps towards the bar.
‘Nonsense. As I said, everything is on the house here.’ Mellyn’s eyes sparkle with mischief as she looks at me over the rim of her glass.
I don’t think I want to find out the reason why. Gut instinct tells me I won’t like it. In case she decides to divulge it now, I crack a claw and take a mouthful of the succulent meat. ‘This is absolutely gorgeous.’
‘It is. When I said Jack’s had the finest seafood I wasn’t joking.’ Mellyn waves a fork at me. ‘Now, did you like the decor in my spare room? Because if not, we can go shopping for paint and wallpaper at the weekend. I want everything to be just how you like it, Lu.’
Bollocks. She thinks I’ll stay at Seal Cottage. Not an unexpected assumption, but one that I can really do without at the moment. ‘I had thought I’d find a bedsit or something for now,’ I say brightly, trying to shutter my eyes to the disappointment in hers. ‘When we’ve got to know each other a little more we can think again, but thanks for making such a generous offer.’
Watching Mellyn’s face try to control her feelings I wait for the familiar eruption from the emotional volcano. All the signs are there, the red blotches on her face and neck, the quickening breath, the frustration behind the eyes revealed as if on two mini cinema screens. She dabs each corner of her mouth with her napkin and says, ‘If that’s what you want, Lu, that’s fine. As I said earlier, I want to do whatever makes you happy.’
So, she can control it after all. This is a real positive as far as I’m concerned. I give her a wide smile and pat her hand across the table. Despite her erratic behaviour this evening, it’s clear that having me stay in St Ives is going to help her, and I’ll do all I can to makes sure she feels loved, respected and appreciated. God knows she’s had little of all three in her life so far.
I note the grateful look in her eyes and then she applies herself to her meal. In a way it seemed like the roles have been reversed between us. I’m the mother helping to socialise the wayward child. For the first time in my life, I realise that someone depends on me, needs me, and furthermore, that I like it.
15
A fresh wind whips my hair into streamers as I stand up to my ankles in foamy breakers. Deep cleansing breaths of salt air replace the scent of bacon, eggs, toilet cleaner and furniture polish that my new job has ingrained into my clothes and pores. I relax my shoulders and wiggle my toes deeper into the wet sand, then turn my head at the squeal of a small child a little way to my left. ‘Mummy! Look, a jolly fish!’ I smile to myself as I picture a jelly fish sitting on the sand having a good old laugh. A few feet away from the breakers, the child squats and pokes at something with a yellow spade. I watch the mother scoop up the child and hurry away up the beach.
Unbidden, a memory of my mum doing the same brings unexpected emotion and I’m glad of the sea spray on my face. I remember the smell of the old red beach towel that we always took on holiday: peanuts and a trace of vinegar. Why it smelled of those I have no idea – it was always cleaned. Closing my eyes, I can feel its scratchy warmth and see Mum wrapping it around me after I’d done my usual trick of staying in the sea until my skin turned blue.
I open my eyes and looked up at the scudding white clouds edged with grey. Not a typical summer’s day, but no less beautiful for all that. I think about Mum and the unfairness of life bringing her early death. I also think about all the happy times we’d had and told the far horizon how much I had loved her.
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br /> On my way back up the beach towards the town, thoughts of Mellyn and how much we’ve grown together over the last few weeks puts a spring in my step. I am so lucky to have had a wonderful woman who brought me up, and now I have a chance at building a happy future with a second mum. Since that day two weeks ago at the Crab Shack, we’ve had neither a cross word, nor have I worried that she’d been on the edge of one of her meltdowns, as I thought of them. When I wasn’t working, we’d done touristy things, visiting areas as far as Tintagel in the north of the county and Land’s End in the south. We’ve laughed a lot, been out on the Sprite, and chatted about the past, both hers and mine, once until the early hours of the morning.
On that occasion, I had stayed over at Seal Cottage, and though she hasn’t mentioned it again, I know that Mellyn would love me to move in. Having no luck on the accommodation front, the rent being too high or the bedsit too much of a dump, I have begun to seriously consider that possibility. The hotel room is eating into my savings pretty quickly, even though Nadine has grudgingly allowed a discount. I’ll run it all past Rosie later, but now I’m late back from lunch and if Nadine’s on reception she’ll have a few choice words lined up on her acid tongue.
From his stool on reception, Alan extends a bony forefinger and beckons me over. He reminds me of a vulture eyeing injured prey. Tall, gangly, hunched-shouldered and hook nosed, he points at his watch and raises a bushy eyebrow. A polite smile on my face, I wait expectantly holding his cold grey stare. I’d be damned if I’ll speak first. If he wants an explanation for why I’m seven minutes late, he can open his beak and ask for it.
‘Forgot the time, somehow?’ he asks, tucking both hands under his armpits as if he’s getting ready to roost.
‘No. I called in at the butcher to make sure he knows we need extra bacon for the weekend, but he was busy with a customer.’