by Annie Lyons
Ernest looked confused. ‘But I want to go home,’ he protested.
Stella sighed. ‘You can’t, Dad. You can’t be on your own. You might have another fall.’
‘But Ivy will look after me,’ he said in a small voice.
Stella looked up to the ceiling as if praying for some divine intervention. Lizzie squeezed her grandfather’s hand. ‘Granny’s dead, Grandpa, and we’re worried about you being on your own so Mum’s found this lovely home, really near to Dove Cottage. You’ll be able to see the sea and when I come to visit, we can go for a walk along the prom. You’ll make lots of new friends too and you won’t be on your own.’
Ernest considered this, gradually taking in the information. ‘I do get lonely sometimes,’ he admitted.
Lizzie patted his hand. ‘I know it’s hard and we’ll all be sad to sell Dove Cottage but we just want to make sure you’re all right.’
Ernest nodded silently and then glanced up at his daughter. ‘Thank you, Stella,’ he said.
Stella looked surprised and gave him a warm smile. ‘Lizzie’s been helping me sort through some things. We’ve picked out some bits for you to have in your room.’
He nodded again. ‘Have you heard from Lawrence? Does he know I’m here?’
Stella pursed her lips. ‘He does and he sends his love,’ she said diplomatically.
Ernest chuckled, a little of his old self returning for a second. ‘He’s a good boy,’ he said. ‘He has such a busy life, you know.’
Stella sniffed. ‘Oh I know.’
They stayed until visiting time was finished. Lizzie reached over to hug Ernest as they said their goodbyes. ‘Hold on to the ones you love,’ he said to her. ‘For as long as you can.’
Lizzie swallowed back tears. ‘I will, Grandpa,’ she said.
A nurse arrived as they were saying their goodbyes. ‘Who were they then, Ernest?’ Lizzie heard her ask as they left.
‘That was my wife and daughter. They come every day,’ said Ernest proudly. Lizzie looked at her mother but Stella kept her face forwards as they headed for the exit.
They drove back towards the cottage in silence. Family matters weighed heavy in Lizzie’s mind; seeing her grandfather bewildered and frightened had made her sad but she could also see the burden it placed on her mother. Everyone was fighting a battle and usually on their own. She glanced at Stella and noticed the locket glinting in the late afternoon sunlight.
‘Penny for them, Mum?’ she said.
Stella sighed. ‘I was just thinking how much I love your grandpa but how infuriating he is as well.’
‘I thought you handled him very well. It’s horrible to see someone you love going through that.’
Stella gave her daughter a knowing look. ‘To be honest, he’s always been difficult. The illness merely exaggerates his more trying side. He’s still my dad though.’ They drove a little further in silence. ‘Do you fancy fish and chips for tea?’ asked Stella after a while. ‘We could pick some up now if you’re hungry?’
‘Fine by me.’
Stella climbed from the van as they reached the village, waving Lizzie’s purse away with the words, ‘My treat.’ Lizzie looked around at the shops which edged the green. There were a few high street names in situ now but the post office and sweet shop, where she and Bea had spent most of their holiday money, remained. She could remember her granny giving them each twenty pence for which they could buy a small white paper bag’s worth of white chocolate mice, shrimps, cola bottles and plenty besides.
Her mother returned with their supper and Lizzie held the bag, inhaling the warm, comforting smell of fish and chips through the paper wrapping. Once back at the cottage, Stella busied herself with plate-warming, whilst Lizzie laid the table.
‘Would you like a glass of wine?’ asked her mother, opening the fridge and fishing out a bottle.
‘Why not?’ smiled Lizzie.
Her mother dished out their supper and carried it over to the table.
‘Cheers,’ said Stella, holding up her glass.
‘Cheers,’ replied Lizzie, clinking hers against her mother’s. She took a sip and felt herself relax. The meal was delicious and they both made appreciative noises as they ate. When they had finished, Stella sat back in her chair and looked at her daughter.
‘How are you getting on with Bea’s letters?’
Lizzie was surprised. She hadn’t expected her mother to bring them up but she sensed that Stella wanted to talk. ‘Actually, I read one of them today,’ she said.
‘Oh yes. Do you want to tell me what it was about?’
‘I’ll read it to you if you like,’ said Lizzie, reaching under the table for her bag and fishing out the letter.
Stella took a sip of her wine. ‘All right.’
As Lizzie read Bea’s words, she kept glancing up at her mother to gauge her reaction. When she reached the part about the locket, Stella put her hand to her throat and pressed it between two fingers. When Lizzie had finished reading, Stella stood up and carried their plates over to the sink. She remained there motionless, her back to Lizzie, staring out into the garden and the fading summer evening light. Lizzie wasn’t sure what to do. They stayed like this for a while.
Eventually Stella spoke. ‘Ivy wasn’t my mother,’ she said so quietly that at first, Lizzie thought she’d misheard.
‘What did you say?’ she asked.
Stella turned round to face her daughter. ‘Ivy was my mother’s sister. My real mother wasn’t married when she got pregnant with me and they sent her away.’
Lizzie stared at her mother open-mouthed. ‘But that means that – ’
Stella nodded. ‘Ivy and Ernest are your great-aunt and uncle.’
Lizzie’s head was spinning. Her granny; her beloved granny wasn’t really her granny after all. Once again, it felt as if the foundations of Lizzie’s world were shifting beneath her feet. Stella could see what she was thinking. ‘It doesn’t change anything. For all intents and purposes, they are still your grandparents. I never see them as anything other than my parents,’ she said. Stella gaze was steady and calm and Lizzie could see that she was right. ‘Ivy was the centre of our world. That will never change.’
Lizzie nodded. ‘So what happened?’
Stella sat back down at the table and took a sip of wine. ‘When my mother got pregnant with me, she was sent away to have the baby. The family wanted to avoid a scandal so they pretended that Ivy was pregnant and that I was her child. No one knew except my grandparents. People gossiped of course but Ivy and Ernest raised me as if I was their child. I bore a family resemblance so it was easy to fool people. They’d been trying for a baby for a while so it all fitted in – a golden opportunity you might say. Ivy just adored me because I was her sister’s child and she desperately wanted a baby. Ernest took a while to come round.’
‘But he did?’
Stella shrugged. ‘He did until Lawrence came along. They didn’t ever think they’d have children naturally and then suddenly there he was – a baby brother.’
Lizzie shook her head, struggling to take it all in. ‘So what happened to your real mother?’
Stella looked at the ceiling and Lizzie noticed her eyes begin to mist with tears. ‘She tried to come back to the village but she couldn’t take it. She couldn’t bear that I wasn’t her child any more and she fell into depression.’ Lizzie could feel tears prick her own eyes. ‘She ended up in an asylum until she died,’ whispered Stella. She shook her head as if trying to banish the sadness. ‘I didn’t even know her.’
‘That’s terrible,’ said Lizzie.
Stella brushed away a tear. ‘I remember a lady being there when I was quite small, five or six, and I remember her being very sad all the time and then she disappeared. No one spoke about her. They were ashamed, you see. I think that Ivy carried that sadness deep in her heart but she didn’t tell me the truth until I was sixteen. That was when she gave me the locket.’
‘All that sadness and grief. Never spoken of,�
�� said Lizzie.
Stella sighed. ‘That was how it was back then. You didn’t speak of these things, you just got on with your life. And I had a good life with Ivy and Ernest. They were good parents to me and grandparents to you girls.’
Lizzie looked at her mother, trying to read her thoughts. ‘It must have been hard for you though, carrying that secret.’
Stella considered this. ‘Your granny never made me feel anything less than a daughter but grandpa – ’
‘Favoured Lawrence?’
Stella sighed. ‘Maybe. It might have been because he was a boy but yes, I did feel like the outsider sometimes.’
‘Maybe you and I have more in common than we think,’ observed Lizzie.
Stella stared at her daughter. ‘Did I make you feel like an outsider, Lizzie?’
Lizzie considered this. ‘You made me feel inadequate next to Bea.’
Stella shook her head. ‘You were different to Bea – less resilient I suppose. She always got on with things and never gave me any trouble, whereas you – ’ Stella gave her daughter a knowing smile ‘ – you were always up to something. Perhaps I wished you could be a little more like Bea but I didn’t mean to make you feel any less loved than she was. I am sorry.’ Three words; the three words that Lizzie had been waiting to hear for over fifteen years. Lizzie felt as if her mother was hearing her for the first time in her life. She nodded and Stella continued. ‘When you told me you were pregnant, I was so angry because I could see you making the same mistakes my mother had made. I couldn’t cope with the fact that history was repeating itself. I lashed out and that was wrong of me. I should have tried to find you when you ran away but I suppose I was used to family secrets being hidden away and life being easy that way. I regret that deeply now and I will have to live with that regret for the rest of my life. But you have to believe that I loved you and Bea both the same. You were my girls, my darling lovely girls.’
Lizzie stared into her mother’s eyes, which were brimming with tears. Bea was right. Stella was a human being like any other, making mistakes, falling and failing as family history repeated itself. She reached out and took her mother’s hands. ‘I believe you,’ she said.
Stella looked at her with gratitude as if she had been granted some kind of absolution. She took off the locket and opened it. Inside was a tiny black and white picture of a woman. She looked so young and alive and full of hope. ‘This was taken when she was eighteen – a year before she got pregnant.’
‘She looks like granny,’ remarked Lizzie.
‘Her name was Elizabeth,’ said Stella, glancing up at her daughter. ‘And there isn’t a day goes by when I don’t think of her.’
Lizzie stared down at the picture of her grandmother and smiled. ‘Elizabeth,’ she said. ‘Of course.’
As Lizzie went up to bed that night, she felt heavy with tiredness. It had been an overwhelming day, so many truths revealed and secrets shared. She made her way to the room she used to share with Bea. Her mother had made up the bed for her but the contents of the room were all in boxes where Lizzie had packed them earlier. She sank down onto the bed and picked up the photograph of Bea and her that she’d wept over on her earlier visit. At that moment, she longed more than anything to be six years old again, climbing into bed with her sister ready to share their whispered stories and secrets. How different the secrets of adulthood were to the carefree, giggling dreams of childhood. They carried such weight and could destroy you if you let them. She thought of her real grandmother; of the pain she had endured and the hurt she must have felt having been rejected and abandoned. She shuddered when she compared this with her own pain and hurt. She had overcome it because of one person. She ran a finger over the photograph, stroking her sister’s face before setting it down beside her. She stared at it for a long time, looking into Bea’s eyes, feeling a sense of peace descend as her eyes grew heavy and her mind drifted into sleep.
Chapter Twenty-One
Late May
‘Happy birthday to you, happy birthday to you, happy birthday dear Mrs Almost-Chambers, the love of my life, forever more, Amen, happy birthday to you!’ sang Alex in an impressive tenor voice as he carried a tray, loaded with croissants, Buck’s Fizz and a single yellow rose in a vase, into Lizzie’s bedroom.
She grinned and clapped her hands with delight, drawing up her legs in a cross-legged position to make room for him. ‘This is lovely. Thank you so much, Alex,’ she said, leaning across to kiss him.
‘And I have birthday wishes from all your admirers,’ he said, fanning out a pile of cards, like a magician. ‘And presents,’ he grinned, holding up a large gift bag.
She helped herself to a croissant and some jam and took a sip of her Bucks Fizz.
‘Mmmm,’ she murmured. ‘This is the best birthday ever.’ It was true. Bea had always made a fuss of her sister in the past but never on her actual birthday. Lizzie had preferred to pretend they weren’t happening. She hadn’t felt the urge to celebrate the day her mother brought her into the world for a long time. This year she intended to celebrate it as if she were catching up on all the ignored birthdays of the past.
Alex took a bite of croissant and smiled at her. ‘You deserve it, my darling.’
After they had eaten, she opened her cards. There was one from Mrs Nussbaum, addressed to ‘My dear Lizzie’, in an elegant spidery script and a musical card from Carol and Trevor with a ‘Happy Birthday Lovey!’ message. Lizzie felt touched that they had remembered.
She took another sip of her drink and reached over to her bedside table. She picked up an envelope, which she had placed there the night before. ‘It’s from Bea,’ she explained to Alex. Lizzie had found the card in amongst the letters and the ever-organised Bea had written Lizzie’s birthday date on the back so that she would realise that it was meant for today. Alex watched her face as she opened it. Inside was a home-made birthday card. Bea had used a copy of the photograph Lizzie found at Dove Cottage and stuck it to the front. Inside she had written,
Dear Lizzie Lou, remember this? I think it was taken shortly before I shoved the sea-weed I was holding in your face and you pushed me into the sea. Happy days! And Happy Birthday to you, my lovely sis. The only wish I have for you today is that you’re sharing it with people you love. I just wish it could be me so that I can tell you how old you’re looking. Love you, Bea xxx
Lizzie smiled and placed it with the others. Alex was still watching her. ‘Are you okay?’ he asked. She nodded. Her dear, lovely sister; a constant presence even now, making sure she was happy, sending love from whichever cloud she was perched upon.
‘Time for presents then,’ said Alex, holding out the bag.
Lizzie squealed with delight and delved in. He had bought her a book by her favourite author, some rather revealing underwear (‘for later,’ he said with a wicked grin), and a special edition of Grease with a Pink Ladies jacket cover.
‘That is so thoughtful,’ she said, reaching over to kiss him.
‘I remembered that it was your and Bea’s favourite film so I had to get it for you.’
‘Thank you, Alex. That means a great deal to me.’ She stretched her arms above her head and smiled. ‘I am so lucky.’ She finished her drink and glanced at the clock. ‘Better get ready. We don’t want to be late for Mum.’
In her infinite wisdom, Stella had decided to make Lizzie’s birthday lunch into a belated engagement celebration as well. This meant that they had to endure the underlying atmosphere of loathing that Stella and Alex’s mother, Evelyn, felt for one another. It had been ever thus. Lizzie could recall the conversation between them when Bea went off to university to study law.
‘Of course that will be my Alex next year,’ Evelyn had boasted.
‘Music and Law are very different,’ retorted Stella.
‘Actually, music is far more competitive but when you’re as talented as Alex – ’
Lizzie was dreading how they would behave and had expressed her fears to Alex. ‘It’ll be fine,�
�� he’d said as they made their way up the path to Stella’s front door. It’s good for them to spar a little, keeps their brains active,’ he grinned.
‘Happy birthday, darling,’ smiled Stella, opening the door and hugging her daughter. ‘And welcome, Alex,’ she added, reaching up to kiss him. ‘We’re having drinks in the garden. It’s such a lovely day.’ She led them along the corridor through to the kitchen, where Evelyn was hovering. She rushed forwards embracing her son first and then reaching over to peck Lizzie on the cheek and wish her a happy birthday.
‘Something smells good in here,’ said Alex, handing Stella a bottle of wine.
‘Thank you,’ said Stella. ‘It’s roast lamb.’
‘Oh you’re very good doing a roast in the summer,’ chimed Evelyn. ‘I usually just make a quiche at this time of year.’
‘It’s Lizzie’s favourite, isn’t it?’ said Stella putting an arm around her daughter’s shoulder. Lizzie smiled at her mother as they walked out into the garden.
It was a fine sunny day, warm and beautiful. As Lizzie and Alex came out into the garden, the Reverend Arthur Chambers leapt up to greet them.
‘Happy birthday and congratulations,’ he boomed genially. ‘We brought some champagne but didn’t want to open it before the happy couple arrived!’ he added gesturing at the tray of glasses and ice bucket which Stella had placed on the wooden garden table.
‘Thank you,’ smiled Lizzie. She noticed Joe standing back with a smile on this face and an arm round Sam, who looked sullen and unhappy. Stella moved forward to open the champagne.
‘Why don’t you let Arthur do that?’ said Evelyn, gesturing at the bottle.
‘Of course,’ said Stella through gritted teeth. ‘Thank you, Arthur’. Arthur popped the cork and everyone cheered. He handed out the glasses and Stella turned to her daughter.
‘Happy birthday, Lizzie,’ she said.
‘And congratulations on your engagement!’ chimed Evelyn, reaching out a hand to pat Alex’s shoulder.