by Amanda James
‘You’ll see.’ I laugh, looking over her shoulder at a young man hurrying along the slipway and down the steep cut steps balancing two white boxes. ‘And that jumper really does bring out your eyes.’
Mel snorts into her wine at the in-joke. ‘How macabre.’
I stand and take the boxes from the young man and slip him a tip. Mel swivels in her seat, opened mouthed. I place one box on the table and lift the lid. ‘Lobster special, madam?’ I watch her mouth open wider and laugh. ‘And before you ask, I paid for them!’
A full moon peeps at us from behind a silver cloud, and stars show up our fairy lights. The champagne is on standby for a birthday cake presentation and I have to congratulate myself on orchestrating such a good evening. I realise I have never taken so much trouble over anyone’s birthday before, so in an odd way it’s been a first for both of us. Mel has never had anyone make a fuss, and I have never made one. A little glow of a good omen hangs around in my belly and, even though tomorrow is tell-the-truth time, I have a feeling it won’t be half as bad as I imagine.
I sing happy birthday and the zephyr helps Mel blow the candles out. She cries when she sees the heart-edged Happy Birthday Mum XXX decoration and says over and over that she’s had the best birthday ever.
Then the zephyr brings reinforcements and I button up my cardigan. ‘Shall we go back home in a bit for a coffee by the fire?’
‘Home already, when we’re having so much fun? I was thinking about taking us out for a sail in this gorgeous moonlight!’ Mel waves her arms at the sky.
‘It’s getting a bit blowy now. Is that a good idea?’
‘I’ve been sailing for thirty years, trust me. And I only aim to go just past the harbour mouth to get away from the light pollution of the town. We’ll have the last of the booze and a toast. The moon is stunning out at sea. It will end the evening perfectly.’
I shrug and agree. Though I do wonder if having the last of the booze is a great idea. She’s had two glasses to my one all evening. Still, she definitely isn’t drunk and she certainly wouldn’t do anything to jeopardise our safety, would she? I’d be a killjoy if I insisted on going home. Besides, I want to see the moon and stars illuminate the black velvet sky just as much as she does.
The Sprite’s engine thrums, the moon lights a silver path across the waves, and we set out along it towards the open sea.
29
With the engine stopped and the anchor dropped, Mel switches off the fairy lights and then we wrap blankets around our knees and make ourselves comfy on the back seat. The lights of the harbour are in plain view, but we’re beyond the reach of their wiggly fingers. I close my eyes and listen. Gentle waves slap the Sprite’s bow and shush the noisy shingle a little way off, and one or two clanks of rigging join in now and again as a breeze invites them to dance.
‘Look up, Lu,’ Mel says.
The reverence in her voice opens my eyes. I tilt my face to the heavens and open my mouth. Oh, the moon … The enormous bright, round, moon rolls centre stage, frightens away clouds and asserts its rightful place amongst a supporting cast of stars. In depth and multitude, stars hold darkness in contempt and draw navy paths from the centre of the sky for the moon to sail upon.
‘Oh, my goodness,’ I say. Pretty lame in the face of such beauty, but the rest of my words have decided they are inadequate.
‘Told you it’d be worth it,’ Mel says quietly, the moon reflected in her eyes.
‘I have never seen anything like it.’
‘Well you have now, my love.’ She leans across, switches the fairy lights back on and flaps a hand at my puzzled face. ‘We need a bit of light so we can pour the champagne!’
I look at our two glasses raised to the moon, the bubbles caught in starlight, and Mel says, ‘To my wonderful, clever and beautiful daughter. I thank you for this wonderful birthday surprise, but I thank you most of all for coming back into my life.’
‘You’re very welcome,’ I say as we clink glasses, ‘and I’m very glad to be back in it.’ At least I hope I will be when we’ve got to the truth.
‘Tonight, is so perfect, and what you’ve done for me is so perfect that in a while I’ll tell you some things I’ve been keeping from you. Secrets between mother and daughter can only lead to mistrust in the end. Trust is so important don’t you think? I’ve never felt this close to anyone before, barring Joe. My lovely, lovely daughter.’
More secrets? Dear God, I hope they’re nice ones. I pat her hand and nod because I’m not really sure what to say apart from, ‘I feel close to you too, Mum.’
‘Bottoms up,’ she says, and to my dismay downs the champagne in one and then lifts the third-full bottle of white. ‘Another?’ Her eyes dance with mischief.
‘No thanks. I’m fine with this.’ I make my tone polite, but allow a bit of disapproval to filter in.
‘Well I’ll have it then. We’ve a bottle of red unopened too.’
I looked at her and frown. ‘Mum, you have to sail this boat back to—’
‘It was a joke, Lu. You never can tell when I’m pulling your leg!’ She laughs, but I notice that her eyes don’t find it funny.
We sit quietly for a few moments and then I say, ‘Rosie must have been cursing me today. Poor girl will have been so busy she’d be meeting herself coming back.’
‘Cursing? Hmm. Like mother like daughter then.’
‘What do you mean?’ My heart rate quickens.
‘Look. I might as well tell you. Her mother and me knew each other a few years ago. I said I didn’t know her because I didn’t like her. She said the same to Rosie for the same reason.’
Now what? Damn it. I don’t want to have this conversation tonight – it will ruin everything. But my gut says that to feign surprise isn’t an option. I sigh. ‘Well, actually, I did know. Val mentioned something to Rosie.’
Mel downs half her glass in one and my stomach lurches. ‘Interesting. What did she say, let’s be knowing? I don’t like people having secrets behind my back.’
‘Not secrets, just that you were friends but that … well, you fell out.’ I look at the moon for help.
‘Look at me, Lu.’ Mel’s tone won’t be ignored. I look at her and swallow. The moon has abandoned me to the steel in her eyes. ‘You are a terrible liar. What do the three of you know that I don’t?’
‘Please, Mum. Let’s not do this now. We’ve had the perfect evening and all this talk of—’
‘What has that bitch said?’ Mel’s vicious clown face waits under her skin. ‘Tell me, Lu, and I’ll know if you’re lying.’ She drains her glass and pulls out the bottle of red from her bag.
‘Mum. Please don’t open that, it really—’
‘It really isn’t a good idea. Yes, I know. Now tell me what she said or I’m downing the whole fucking bottle, and don’t think I don’t mean it.’ She pours half a glass and then screws the top back on. ‘That’s all I’m having … for now.’
My stomach rolls as if copying the waves further out at sea and I fold my arms across my noisy heart. If I tell her the truth she’ll have a meltdown and drink the whole bottle anyway, but if I don’t, she’ll know I’m lying, and the result will be the same. What the fuck am I going to do?
‘I’m waiting,’ she says quietly, but the clown face has almost broken through and she takes two quick gulps of wine.
‘Okay. She said she came to warn Rosie away from you because you were dangerous.’ I hesitate and then catch the glint in her eye. ‘She said you both got drunk in a truth or dare game … and you hinted about Neil having something to do with your parents’ death and that you got your revenge on him. That’s ridiculous, because they died in a car crash … didn’t they?’
She ignores the last question. ‘Hinted? Is that it? Nothing else?’
Isn’t that enough? I look at her. The clown has borrowed a calm expression and that scares me more. ‘More or less. She said they’d died because of a faulty gas fire. Neil was a plumber and had done something to it. You knew he
had hurt your beloved parents and—’
‘Beloved – that’s a joke,’ Mel says, linking her fingers and stretching her arms to the sky. She yawns and puts her feet up on a chair as if she’s totally unconcerned. It has the opposite effect on me. ‘But yes, the fire was faulty.’
‘I don’t understand.’
‘No, I don’t suppose you do.’ She examines her nails and yawns again.
‘I thought they died in a car accident.’
‘That’s because I told you they did. I also told you I loved them and miss them every day, blamed myself and all that crap. I haven’t told you everything.’ Mel flicks her eyes to mine and then back to her nails. ‘I told Val half-truths too. As you rightly say, I was drunk again. Cursed myself the next day, but there we go. Anyway, I sorted it pretty quickly. First, I told her it was all made up, but she wasn’t buying that. So, then I told her that if she ever repeated anything I’d said, I would tell everyone about her own nasty little secret, her sordid affair. I’m good at blackmail, as you know.’ She sends a brittle laugh into the sky.
The laughter fades and I wonder if I have somehow fallen down a rabbit hole.
Nothing is real. There’s just us on a boat in a huge black snow globe, but when it’s shaken, instead of snow, the stars will fall.
I look at Mel and she smiles at me as if everything is normal, as though the things she has just said were ordinary. I have become a reluctant spectator, detached and bewildered.
I listen to the waves slap the bow and, oddly in such a situation, wonder when her voluptuous laugh has gone. I haven’t heard it lately. Perhaps that wasn’t real, either. Perhaps it had been pretend, rehearsed, borrowed from someone else. Lies upon lies upon lies, twisting, deceiving, hoodwinking. She raises her glass and a scream builds in my chest. What do I actually know about this woman I’m calling mother? Who exactly is Mellyn Rowe?
Mel sighs and gives a chuckle. ‘I shut that bitch up so fast it was hilarious. She’d trusted me in that game, told me her boring little secret about an affair. I said I’d tell her husband, children and the whole town about her and the next-door neighbour. Said I’d make stuff up, too – ruin her reputation. She was already considering buying a bar in Spain and I made her mind up for her. Clever, eh?’
‘Oh, Mum,’ I say with a sigh.
‘Oh, Mum, what? I couldn’t afford the risk. If you’d had my life you’d learn to trust nobody, look out for nobody but yourself.’
‘I think we should head back in now.’
‘Do you? Well, tough, I don’t. And I think it’s time you learned the whole truth about everything. If we are to be mum and daughter properly, you need to know. You also need to love me unconditionally – just like I love you.’ Her fingers on my hand makes my skin crawl.
‘Okay, but let’s do this tomorrow.’
‘No. It has to be tonight.’ She spreads her arms wide and tilts her head back. ‘Tonight, under the stars, this perfect end to a perfect day with a perfect daughter. I need to share it, don’t you see?’ She stares intently into my eyes. ‘It’s all part of the healing process, as Doctor Roebuck said. If we wait until tomorrow it won’t sound right, you’ll not understand.’ Mellyn throws her arms around me and it takes all my resolve not to push her away. I don’t want to hear any more. My heart can’t take it.
‘I’m just worried that it might be upsetting and you’ll regret tell—’
She releases me and pours more wine. ‘I’m telling you now, and that’s it.’
‘That’s the last glass, Mum.’ I grab the bottle and thrust it into the bag. I put the bag behind my legs and wonder if I can drive the boat back. I’d watched her loads of times and she’d let me have a go once or twice. Guiding a boat back to its mooring was a different matter though, and if Mel kicked up a fuss, it would be practically impossible.
She looks at me over the rim of her glass, her bone-chilling smile obscene under the fairy lights. ‘Okay. Are you listening?’ I push my hands through my hair, say nothing. ‘Right. I hated my parents … so I killed them.’
30
The scream that has been building in my chest reaches my vocal cords and I have to put my hand over my mouth to prevent its escape. No. No. NO! This can’t be true. She’s delusional, her psychosis has taken over, surely … surely it couldn’t be true. Please, God, don’t let it be true. I bite my lip and look at a blur of stars.
‘Well, when I say parents, I mean Dad. She wasn’t my mother. He married again after my mother died when I was only a few months old.’ She leans forward and does the manic staring thing again. ‘Isn’t it awful I don’t remember my mum at all, not even a little bit? I have a photo of her holding me but it could be anyone.’ She sniffs, sits back and tucks the blanket over her chest. ‘Anyhow, Dad and my stepmother were always so wrapped up in each other that they never had time for me. I felt like an inconvenience, an appendage. Dad never talked about my mum either, it was as if she’d never existed.’
I can’t speak. Literally. My mouth’s so dry that my teeth stick to the inside of my lips and adrenalin wants me to run. I look at the dapples of silver on the waves and close my eyes. Mellyn doesn’t seem to notice. Her words are relentless.
‘I never felt loved. Oh yes, they fed, clothed, sheltered, all the usual stuff, but never loved. Then when I got pregnant it was the living end. It drove us further apart. I hated them for trying to get me to kill you, so in the end they got what they deserved.’
She strokes my arm but I don’t react, just sit there like a statue, immobilised by her story.
‘Sorry, love. I know it’s not easy listening but it has to be done.’ Another sip of wine. ‘So, on that night, I told Val I was convinced that Neil was somehow involved with my parents’ death. Not true. Neil had serviced their gas fire and said it needed a new part. It was an old fire. He’d been on at them for ages to get it done, but Dad thought he was fussing for nothing. Neil said that on no account should it be used, he’d broken a filter or something when he was fiddling.’ Mellyn twisted her mouth to the side and sighed. ‘I can’t remember now what he said, to be honest, but I do remember him telling me that I should tell them not to use it. Neil was busy on a job and said he’d fix it the next day. But I didn’t tell them, Lu. I let them die. I came back from Christmas shopping and found them both sitting in their chairs by the fire watching a rerun of Morse. Well, they weren’t watching it, of course, because they were dead. Just sat there, grey faced. Dead.’ Mel shakes her head and tries to look remorseful.
A noise in my throat that sounds like a sob escapes me and I wipe my wet cheeks. She doesn’t notice or chooses not to. I want her to stop – need her to stop. My heart races so fast that my head feels like one of the party balloons. She doesn’t stop though. Won’t.
‘Neil was distraught when he found out what had happened. I said telling them not to use it had just gone out of my head. It hadn’t, of course, how could it? Not something as important as that. He was suspicious, but in the end, he blamed himself. He said he should have gone around there, told them himself not to use the damned thing. I made him keep quiet though when the police started asking questions. I told the police that I’d seen my dad taking it apart the day before when I’d popped round, said he always liked to sort things out himself, was a bit of a DIY enthusiast. I explained that I told Dad not to do it himself, but that he wouldn’t listen.’
My heart misses a beat and I put both hands over my mouth. This can’t be happening. Cannot.
‘Neil struggled with his guilt over the next few months and in the end, he couldn’t cope. We were at my parents’ house doing it up, like I told you, and he just comes out with it, says he’s going to the police to tell them what had happened. I pretended to break down and agreed that honesty was the best policy, but that we should think about what exactly we were going to say and go together the next day. Later on, I pushed him off the ladder.’
My voice broke free. ‘NO! No. No. No,’ I sob. ‘So many lies … you said he beat you …
’
Her expression is neutral, her tone matter of fact. ‘No. He never beat me at all. The things I told you about him being cruel to me when he was pissed … it was the other way around. He adored me, but he was just dull. He didn’t even drink. I never loved him, not like I loved Joe.’
Sobs threaten to engulf me and I want to surrender to them, roll up into a ball and cover myself with the blanket, block out her face, her story, her terrible, terrible secrets. Then instinct tells me that I have to fight it, can’t let it happen. Yes, I’m on a boat with my mother, but she’s a dangerous woman. My heart says, But she’s my mum … my mum, and she loves me. But she’s capable of anything, my mind reminds me. It fights with the child in my heart and fleshes out a plan. I wipe my eyes and gather my wits, force my breathing into a regular rhythm.
‘Show me how to get the boat to shore. You’ve had too much to drink and we need to get you home,’ I say, relieved to hear calm in my voice, though I’m anything but.
‘I’m not drunk, Lu. I’m also not ready to go in yet. What do you make of the truth, eh? You haven’t said anything. Just sat there crying.’ Mellyn stands and draws the blanket round her like a cloak. ‘I have bared my soul to you, for fuck’s sake, and you say nothing!’
‘This is not the time or the place.’ I stand too and set my legs as a wave buffets the stern. ‘We’ll go home, get some sleep, and then tomorrow we’ll get you the help you need.’ Too late I realise that might not be the best thing to say. The resurgence of the clown mouth confirms it.
‘Jesus. You sound just like Neil,’ she spits, and takes a step towards me.
Panic squeezes my heart when I think about what happened to him. Then I remember that sometimes when I’ve challenged her, she’s backed off. I would try that. Besides, I don’t have a lot of options. ‘What do you expect me to say? You told me you killed my grandfather, his wife and your husband in cold blood. Of course, you need bloody help!’