Another Mother: a gripping psychological family drama

by Amanda James

  ‘But why the fucking hell had Mellyn, I mean Tamsyn, pretended to be my mother in the first place? What would be the point? Jealousy? Longing? And how did she get the letter from Maureen telling her I was looking for my birth mother?’

  ‘I don’t have the answers to all that, love.’ Val said. ‘Perhaps Mellyn will if you get to speak to her.’

  The police called back a day later. It appeared that Seal Cottage didn’t belong to the woman that pretended to be my birth mother at all, but instead to her half-sister, Mellyn. The officer told me that they had found her pretty quickly and she’d explained that Tamsyn was looking after the cottage while she and her husband were working abroad. They had been in Africa for six years but were planning on a return to Cornwall next year. Of course, once she’d heard about the whole tragic mess, Mellyn had arranged to come back straight away.

  That information had answered my question of how Mellyn had got Maureen’s initial letter. She’d just picked it up from the floor when it landed on her mat at Seal Cottage. Another little bit of pity I’d originally felt for her when I’d found out she was dead was stamped out by my anger. What kind of a person would take the identity of another in order to steal her daughter?

  The officer said that Mellyn was in shock, of course, but had given him her details and would he please pass them on to me. For the last week I had looked at the scrap of paper with her phone number and email address on it, and more than once had screwed it up and put it in the bin. The last time I retrieved it, I had to wipe chopped tomato from the last three digits of the phone number, but they remained stained and red and illegible.

  Before I could change my mind, two days ago I wrote Mellyn a very short email just to say I would come down today if she wanted to meet and discuss what had happened. It was businesslike and to the point, as was the one I received in return. I printed it off and I’ve read it a hundred times already. I wondered if I could go through all that again? The green shoots of love I had begun to grow for the woman I believed to be my birth mother had been pulled out by the roots, and my battered heart was now supposed to launch itself at yet another ‘mother’?

  Dear Lucinda,

  Thank you for getting in touch at this extremely difficult time. I will be at the cottage all day. Come when you like.

  Best wishes,

  Mellyn

  How different it was from the much folded and unfolded email I’d had from Tamsyn. No bubbly gushy words, kisses, or declarations of love this time. For that I was glad. My heart would have hated it. Those few lines were honest and open. I decided that no matter how tough, if I passed up a chance to meet her I’d never forgive myself.

  I’m so happy I did now as I sit opposite my mum. For the next few hours we talk about Tamsyn and fill in each other’s gaps. The police had explained to Mum the terrible truth about what Tamsyn had done to her parents, her husband, and my adoptive mum, and of course how she’d pretended to be my mother. I tell her all the awful things she’d done to me and how it all ended on the boat.

  She tells me that she and Tamsyn had had the normal love–hate sibling relationship growing up, but she’d never realised how much Tamsyn had really hated her until she’d come down to St Ives after her husband ‘died’.

  ‘Tamsyn was in bits. Now I know the truth it’s not surprising,’ Mum says, and shakes her head. ‘Anyway, we had a big heart to heart just before I went abroad to work. We’d …’ Mum bites her lip as if she’s let something slip but carries on. ‘We’d only bought this place a month before, we’d not even had time to move in here, before a post came up to work abroad, for a year initially, so … I said she could stay here in the cottage. It might do her good to get away for a while. The while ended up being six years.’

  ‘So, what did Tamsyn say in the heart to heart you had?’

  ‘Ah yes. That was an eye-opener. Really cut me up. She said she’d always felt second best to me, that our parents pushed her out, that I was the golden girl and she’d hated the sight of me in the end. She hoped that when I’d got pregnant, things would change, I’d be shamed, but no. Once Joe and I had agreed to have you adopted, it was all back to normal.’

  I pull a sigh from the base of my lungs and say, ‘So it sounds like as well as your identity, she stole your entire life story and made it hers?’ I tell her everything Tamsyn had told me about Joe and the way she’d felt about him, the parents conspiring against them, forcing them to put me up for adoption, and the sing-song voice she used to tell it.

  Mum nods, the sadness in her eyes reflecting mine. ‘Yes, she always used a weird voice when she lied. And yes, what you’ve told me, that was my story. I confided in Tamsyn, you see. During the pregnancy I felt shut out by my parents and needed someone to talk to. Someone who I thought was on my side. On the day she told me all this, she said she hated me for taking her boyfriend.’

  ‘She went out with Joe?’ I ask.

  ‘Hardly. They were in the same tutor group and a gang of them went for a burger on the way home from school once. That was all. Then she asked him round on the pretext of homework or something. I was at home at the time and when he walked in … he and I just fell for each other right there. Love at first sight.’

  I frown. ‘He’d not seen you before? But didn’t you all go to the same school?’

  ‘No, I went to another, “better” school, my mum wanted to stretch me. She was pushy, and in that respect, I can see how Tamsyn’s jealousy was justified.’

  I try to find some sympathy for Tamsyn, but it’s all been used up. Something occurs to me then and I say, ‘I wonder why she switched some of the story, though.’ Mum frowns. ‘Well, she said she expected that Joe went on to be a doctor. But it turns out it was you that did instead.’

  ‘We both did. Like Tamsyn, he was a year older than me and so had a head start.’ I go to interrupt but she hurries on. ‘Anyway, though I was worried about Tamsyn after she’d told me all this, she said she felt so much better for getting it all off her chest. I apologised about Joe, because in her own warped way I could tell she had loved him. I said she could live in the house rent free, anything at all I could do to make amends. She said it wasn’t my fault as I hadn’t done any of it deliberately, and that our parents had been at fault really in the way they had treated us differently growing up.’

  I place my hand over hers as she looks close to tears again. Mum squeezes it and sighs. ‘She said she was so glad we’d had this out and that we could now move on. Said she’d forgiven me, which was odd if she didn’t think it was my fault, but obviously she did, and she hadn’t at all. She stole you from me – her ultimate revenge.’ A tremor ends her words and she looks through the window. ‘And we let it happen. I never looked for you because I felt I didn’t deserve you. You know why we had to give you up, because Tamsyn told you, but even so. Anyway, we didn’t want to upset your life. Of course, we so wished that you would come looking … one day.’

  That’s the third time she’s said ‘we’ and she hasn’t told me anything about her husband. I know she has one because the police told me. ‘Your husband knows about me then, obviously?’

  ‘My husband, he’s, um … I mean he …’ She puts a hand to her mouth as if to stop her words. Her eyes can’t hold mine. But her hand reaches out.

  A prickling sensation begins in my spine. I look at goosebumps along my forearms. I watch Mum’s face and something in it tells me a secret. No. It can’t be, can it?

  ‘Mum, what happened to Joe?’

  The window still holds her gaze and she tightens the grip on my hand.

  ‘Oh, Lu.’ The window releases her and she looks right into my eyes. They tell me a story of guilt, and love. ‘I so much want to tell you, but I think you’ve had enough shocks just recently—’

  ‘Yes, but because I have, I can cope with it. Tell me.’ If he’s dead I can’t.

  ‘We stayed together. We’d both wanted to be doctors since we were kids. This shared dream was just another reason why we were made for e
ach other. We went to the same college and uni – he was the year above, of course. Then we did our training, became doctors and got married.’

  I rake my fingers through my hair. This was more than I could ever have hoped for. I take a moment to calm my breathing and say, ‘So that end part of Tamsyn’s story – well, your story actually – when she said you and Joe drifted apart and he probably made another life as a doctor without you … was a lie?’

  ‘Yes, seems she added a bit for reasons best known to her.’

  ‘Well, where is he now?’

  ‘He was working with me in Africa, and now he’s right here in St Ives. We thought it best that I see you alone … as I said, it’s a hell of a shock for you.’

  ‘My God,’ I say, picturing the lad in the ripped-in-half photo again. I realise now that the other half of the photo wouldn’t have been of Tamsyn, but of Mum. A few thousand questions queue up in my mouth so I swallow most of them back down and ask just two. ‘Do I have any siblings? Does he want to meet me?’

  Mum shakes her head. ‘No siblings, we felt it wouldn’t be fair. We never got over having to give you away.’ She cups my face in her hands. ‘And yes, my darling, of course he wants to meet you. He loves you just as much as I do.’

  ‘Oh, Mum,’ I say, and hug her tight. My heart is so full that I can’t squeeze any more words past it, but it doesn’t matter. Right at this moment, nothing does.

  Epilogue

  Six months later

  Rosie looks at me and says, ‘So this is the one, yes?’

  I look at the old cottage standing window deep in grass and wildflowers and then back at her hopeful eyes. ‘Bloody hell, Rosie … it’s going to take a hell of a lot of work.’ I turn my back on the cottage and look out over the sea; I listen to her sigh and shuffle her feet on the gravel path.

  ‘Yes, we know that, but both our dads said they’d help put it right,’ she says, and then laughs. ‘Well, not your doctor dad, not sure Joe would know one end of a hammer from the other.’

  ‘Hm,’ I say, and listen to her waffle on behind me about savings from my birth parents and offers of help from Adelaide and Val regarding decorating, making curtains and God knows what else. I smile and am glad she can’t see it. I’d already decided that this cottage was ideal for our new café the first time I laid eyes on it last week, but enjoy pretending I’m still considering it. Rosie’s so easy to tease.

  And to fall in love with.

  Of all the shocks I had last year, that one’s pretty high up on the list. Rosie had eventually plucked up courage and told me how she felt about me and I hadn’t known what to do or say. I couldn’t deny that I felt strongly about her, but I was straight, wasn’t I? I’d had a couple of boyfriends in sixth form and that disastrous fling with a married man that I told Tamsyn about one night in a weak moment. Stupidly I hadn’t known he was married, but the shame of it when I found out put me off relationships for good. And if I’m honest, the sex was a little boring to say the least – felt like I was going through the motions most of the time. I told Rosie I needed to think, and in the end had opened up the whole confusing bag of emotions with Adelaide, of all people.

  I didn’t mean to, of course, but as usual Adelaide yanked words out of my heart like a champion fly fisherwoman. I didn’t expect her to understand at all, but she did. She unravelled my tangled feelings and made sense of my puzzle in just a few sentences.

  ‘It seems to me that you’ve fallen in love with a person and your heart couldn’t care less if this person is male or female,’ she said, and raised her wonderful eyebrows. ‘And why should it? Love is love, if you ask me. It’s a precious gift and you could do a lot worse than to share it with Rosie.’

  Rosie slips her arm through mine and rests her head on my shoulder. ‘You look serious, what are you thinking?’

  ‘Just about Adelaide and what a wise woman she is,’ I say.

  ‘Yes, she is. And she thinks this place is perfect. I was chatting to her about it again only yesterday—’

  ‘Something we all agree on then.’

  ‘What? So, you want it then?’

  ‘You could say that. The vendor’s accepted the offer I made this morning.’

  Rosie steps in front of me and thumps my shoulder. ‘You bugger! Why didn’t you tell me?’ Her brow furrows, but a huge smile waits at the corners of her mouth.

  ‘What would be the fun in that?’ I say with a laugh.

  She laughs too and we both look out to the blue horizon. ‘I can’t wait to start this new venture … my life, with you,’ she says, her voice suddenly serious. ‘We’ll have fun whatever happens. I promise.’

  ‘I’ll hold you to that,’ I say. Then I kiss her, take her hand and we make our way back down the road to St Ives.

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  Readers who enjoyed Another Mother will also enjoy

  The Other Mother by J.A Baker

  Divine Poison by A.B. Morgan

  Coming Soon

  The brand new psychological thriller from Amanda James :

  RIP Current .

  Coming in, Summer 2018

  Acknowledgments

  A big thanks to Mandy Blake who advised me on adoption issues and shared some of her personal experience of adoption with me. This gave me a valuable insight into the adoption process in the UK over the years. I'd also like to thank Imogen Howson for believing in this story from day one and championing its entry into the world. It has had a few title changes since then, but the story is the same. A huge thanks to the wonderful Betsy Freeman Reavley and everyone at my publisher Bloodhound Books. I am very lucky to have found such a dynamic and hardworking team of people.