The Hidden Women

by Kerry Barrett

  ‘Dora,’ I said now, pointing to the photograph. ‘Do you know who this is?’

  ‘Daddy,’ she said obediently.

  ‘Would you like to see Daddy?’

  She looked thoughtful. ‘Yes, see Daddy,’ she said.

  I bit my lip. ‘Maybe Daddy could read you a story,’ I said. ‘That would be nice.’

  ‘Jack read the story.’

  ‘Jack will definitely read you stories too,’ I said.

  Feeling drained, I ran myself a bubble bath. I got in the water, submerged up to my neck and closed my eyes. My mind was racing, and I hoped a long soak could help me work out how I’d got myself into this horrible mess.

  What on earth was I going to do about Lil? That was the question. I felt like I was stuck between a rock and a hard place. If I left Lil thinking I’d done the research because I wanted to ‘poke around in her memories’ as she’d put it, then she’d probably never speak to me again.

  That idea was unbearable.

  But if I told her why I’d done it, there was still no guarantee she’d forgive me – and then I’d have dropped Dad in it too.

  As far as I could tell it was lose/lose. I wished so hard that I’d never seen her name on that list.

  Lil had always said family was the most important thing. From the day when she’d rocked up on our door when Mum was ill and sorted us all out, she’d always drummed into us that family was the constant; that everyone else in your life would come and go, but family would always stand by you. Was she right?

  I felt a glimmer of hope breaking through my dark mood. Dora was my daughter and she always would be, but there was no reason why Greg – and yes, even Kimberley – couldn’t love her too. He was her family, wasn’t he?

  I would send Greg a message and get him to come and visit, I thought. I’d see if Fliss would let me work from home in the afternoon on Monday and get him round while Dora was at nursery. We could sort this out and then perhaps we could fetch Dora together and he could stay for tea. It could be the beginning of something.

  But as for Lil? I still had no idea what to do for the best there.

  The next day was Sunday so I took Dora to the park and then, bracing myself, I went round to see my parents.

  Mum answered the door, wearing her coat.

  ‘Are you going out?’ I said.

  She looked flustered. ‘I’m going to see Lil,’ she said. ‘The care home rang – she’s not very well and she won’t eat.’

  I felt awful. ‘Oh, Mum, this is all my fault,’ I said, feeling tears well up. ‘I went to see her yesterday and I asked about her being discharged from the ATA.’

  Mum bent to release Dora from her buggy, then she ushered me into the living room, where Dad was snoozing on the sofa.

  ‘Robert,’ she said sharply, making him jump. ‘Helena’s here.’

  ‘Dad, I went to see Lil yesterday,’ I said. ‘And we talked about what she did, during the war. She was amazing, Dad. She helped so many women.’

  Dad sat up a bit straighter.

  ‘But she told me all the details and then she threw me out,’ I said, starting to cry properly now. ‘She told me she didn’t want to see me again and that Mum should take Dora when she went to visit.’

  Dad’s brow furrowed in concern.

  ‘I didn’t tell her,’ I said. ‘I didn’t say that you wanted to know – or why you wanted to know – and she didn’t mention you. So that’s good, isn’t it? It’s only me she hates.’

  ‘Oh, Helena,’ Dad said. ‘You took the blame for me?’

  ‘I couldn’t tell her,’ I said, sniffing. Mum, who was busy keeping Dora distracted but clearly listening intently, handed me a tissue.

  ‘You’re very kind, Helena,’ she said. ‘Robert, now do you see that we’ve gone about this the wrong way?’

  Dad looked ashamed. ‘I do see,’ he said. ‘I should have listened to you when you said it was a bad idea.’

  Mum patted him on the knee. ‘It’s done now.’

  ‘And now Lil is poorly?’ Dad said.

  ‘She won’t leave her room, the care-worker said,’ Mum explained. ‘Says she’s under the weather. She’s not eaten since yesterday lunchtime.’

  ‘That was when I visited,’ I said, feeling dreadful. ‘Oh, God, this is awful.’

  ‘I’m going down to see her,’ Mum explained. ‘Taking her some bits that she likes to eat.’

  ‘Have you got some pink wafers?’

  Mum gave me a quick, worried smile. ‘I have.’

  Dad heaved himself up from the sofa. ‘I’ll come,’ he said. ‘I’ll explain everything.’

  ‘Absolutely not,’ Mum said, fiercely. She stood in front of Dad, her feet planted squarely on the carpet like a boxer. ‘We are not going to talk about this until Lil is back on her feet. She is an old woman, with a tricky past, and I am not going to let you upset her.’

  Despite myself, I smiled. Mum could be very forceful when she wanted to be.

  ‘Will you ring me?’ I said. ‘When you’ve seen her?’

  Mum gave me a kiss and picked up her bag. ‘Of course,’ she said. ‘I’m sure it’s not as bad as you think.’

  Chapter 42

  I couldn’t concentrate on work the next day. Mum had called when she got home and said Lil had been pleased to see her. She’d eaten a little bit of dinner, and some pink wafers, but she’d still not come out of her room. Mum sounded worried on the phone and it gave me chills.

  And as for Greg, I’d messaged him and asked him to come to mine at 4 p.m. We could talk things through, I thought. He’d replied asking if Kimberley could come too and I’d agreed.

  But first, I had to get through the morning researching the background of a former Premier League footballer. And persuade Fliss to let me leave early. Elly wasn’t even in the office today, so I had no distractions, but I still couldn’t concentrate properly.

  Mid-morning I wandered to the kitchen and made myself a coffee, and when I got back to my desk, Fliss was there.

  ‘Can I have a word?’ she said. She looked serious. I followed her into her office.

  ‘Shut the door,’ she said and I felt my stomach twist with nerves.

  ‘Helena, there’s no easy way to say this,’ she said. ‘I’ve been worried you’re not keeping on top of your research.’

  ‘I am,’ I said. ‘I’ve done everything I should have.’

  She shook her head. ‘They’re supposed to be filming Lady Jane Grey next week and you’ve not handed over the initial findings to the chap from Oxford,’ she said.

  ‘Shit.’ It had gone completely out of my mind with all the other stuff that was happening.

  ‘And when I looked at your research,’ Fliss went on, ‘I saw in the Jack Jones file that you’d requested court documents for someone named Miles.’

  I stared at her.

  ‘If you’ve been doing your own research and letting your work slide, now is the time to tell me,’ she said.

  I felt like a silly schoolgirl who’d not done her homework.

  ‘You’re right,’ I admitted. ‘I have been doing some of my own research and it’s all got out of hand, and that’s why I forgot to hand over the Tudor stuff.’

  Fliss looked sympathetic. ‘This isn’t like you, Helena,’ she said. ‘I’d never have thought you’d have dropped the plates like this.’

  ‘I know. It just all snowballed.’

  She didn’t say anything, just looked at me, disappointed. This was horrible. I felt like my entire life had fallen apart in one weekend.

  ‘I’m so sorry,’ I said. ‘It was a family mystery and my dad talked me into it, and it just got bigger and bigger …’

  ‘They always do,’ Fliss said. ‘That’s why I’m so strict about not doing your own research with our resources. It becomes all-consuming.’

  ‘I’ll do Lady Jane Grey now,’ I said, desperate to make amends. ‘I’ll have it done by the end of the day.’

  But Fliss shook her head. ‘No,’ she said. ‘I�
�m going to give you three weeks to sort yourself out. Take some time off, regroup, and then come back with your head together. I’ll take over Lady Jane Grey.’

  ‘Are you firing me?’ I asked.

  Fliss gave me a small smile. ‘Not yet,’ she said. ‘This is your last chance, though. You’re a great researcher, Helena. Passionate, measured, methodical, knowledgeable. But you’re in a mess and you need to get it sorted out.’

  I snorted; a mess was an understatement. ‘So, what? I just don’t come in tomorrow?’ I said.

  Fliss shook her head. ‘Go now,’ she said. She looked tired and I felt bad about giving her more to do. ‘Just go.’

  So I did.

  I went home and I cleaned the house from top to bottom. I sorted out my bedroom, which was still showing the signs of Jack’s visit, and carefully picked up my Audrey Hepburn print and wrapped up the broken glass, and threw it away. I rolled up the print gently and put it to one side. I’d get a new frame for it. I cleaned the bathroom, and stacked Dora’s books in her bookshelf neatly, thinking of Jack as I picked up The Gruffalo.

  I completely forgot that Greg was coming to visit. So when the doorbell rang at exactly 4 p.m., I was surprised.

  I opened the door in the joggers and bleach-stained T-shirt I wore for cleaning, with my hair tied up in a scarf, and gasped when I saw him and Kimberley.

  ‘Shit,’ I said. ‘I completely forgot.’

  ‘Helena?’ Greg said, sounding confused. ‘I thought we’d arranged this.’

  ‘We did,’ I said. ‘I’ve just had a bit of a day of it.’

  ‘Is it still okay to meet with you?’ said Kimberley. She looked so nervous that I felt bad.

  ‘Of course,’ I said, showing them in and thinking at least the house was clean. ‘Come on in.’

  This time I made tea, and acted the gracious hostess, despite my scruffy clothes. Then Kimberley and I sat together in the living room while Greg prowled about and looked at the photos on the mantelpiece, and Dora’s toys in the toy box under the window, and generally made me feel uncomfortable.

  ‘You’ve got it looking really nice,’ he said. ‘Dora must be very happy.’

  ‘She is,’ I said, wondering what he was getting at.

  ‘I know this must be tricky for you,’ Kimberley said.

  My temper flared, just a bit. ‘You know what?’ I said. ‘In terms of my relationship with Greg, this isn’t really that tricky. Not compared to the day he told me to get an abortion because we were too young to have a baby.’

  Standing by the fireplace, holding a photo of Dora dressed as an elf at Christmas, Greg winced, but I wasn’t finished.

  ‘And it’s actually a breeze compared to moving all my stuff into my sister’s spare room when I was pregnant,’ I carried on. ‘And let me see. Is it harder than giving birth by myself? Erm, nope. Or getting through the long, long newborn nights on my own? Nope, that was harder too.’

  Now I’d started I found I couldn’t stop.

  ‘Hmm, and how about when he turned up with a bike as a first birthday present for Dora? A bike that – by the way – she’s still too small for, and announced he was off to live in Canada?’

  Greg looked embarrassed and ashamed and I was glad.

  ‘So no. This isn’t actually that tricky,’ I said to Kimberley knowing I was being a bitch. ‘In fact, compared to the shit he’s brought to my door in the past, you’re quite an improvement.’

  ‘Oh, my,’ Kimberley said to Greg. ‘You told me she was quiet.’

  ‘Quiet,’ he said. ‘But dangerous.’

  There was a pause and then the corner of Kimberley’s mouth twitched and she started to giggle.

  I watched, not knowing how to react, as Greg nervously began to laugh too. And suddenly I found I was laughing as well.

  ‘Dangerous?’ I said. ‘I’m not dangerous. I’m just really, really pissed off with you.’

  Greg grinned. ‘And you have every right to be,’ he said, suddenly serious. ‘I have been the biggest idiot and I owe you a massive apology, and I owe Dora a lot of love, and I also probably owe you about a gazillion pounds in child support.’

  I shook my head. ‘We’re fine,’ I said. ‘We don’t need your money, and Dora certainly doesn’t need your love. I don’t even need an apology.’

  ‘I know,’ Greg said. ‘I understand.’

  Kimberley spoke up. ‘When Greg told me about Dora, I broke up with him,’ she said. ‘I couldn’t understand how he could have a daughter who he didn’t have a relationship with.’

  I raised an eyebrow. I’d thought the same.

  ‘Kimberley reacting as she did made me realise how wrong I’d got it,’ Greg said. ‘And when we got back together, I promised I’d make an effort to get to know Dora. That’s why I put in for the transfer back to London. If you agree – and only if you agree – I’d really like to get to know her.’

  It was all completely reasonable. I knew Dora would want to get to know her dad, even if she didn’t understand what it all meant yet. And Kimberley, God love her, seemed to have been the making of Greg. But it didn’t mean I was happy about it.

  ‘Of course, I agree,’ I said, forcing a smile. ‘I need to go and get her from nursery now. Want to come?’

  Chapter 43

  We went to the park, the four of us. Greg even pushed Dora’s buggy. And when she wriggled and squirmed and said ‘out’ like she always did, he said ‘wait until we get to the park’ just like I always did. Then he looked at me, a bit sheepish, and said, ‘I just thought the road was a bit busy for her to be walking.’

  I smiled, feeling impressed and undermined all at the same time. ‘You’re right,’ I said.

  When we reached the entrance of the playground, I unstrapped Dora and picked her up. ‘Dora, do you remember who this is?’ I asked her.

  She looked at Greg, eyes screwed up. Then she put her little hand on his cheek. ‘Daddy,’ she said. ‘’Lo, Daddy.’

  She wriggled in my arms so I put her down and she ran off to the climbing frame.

  ‘She remembers me?’ Greg said in wonder.

  ‘She’s got a photograph, next to her bed,’ I said. ‘That’s why.’

  Greg gave me a funny look, which might have been gratitude, and then he gestured towards where Dora was clambering up. ‘Should I make sure she doesn’t fall?’

  I nodded. ‘She’s remarkably good at climbing, but probably for the best.’

  ‘I’ve got it,’ Kimberley said. She headed over to Dora.

  ‘Wow,’ I heard her say. ‘You’re so high up.’

  I smiled. Always better to compliment Dora’s bravery than ask her to be careful. That never ended well.

  ‘Good at climbing, eh?’ Greg – who had been a member of the climbing society at university and who bored anyone who asked about his adventures in the Lake District – said.

  I grinned. ‘You should see her with a bookcase and a mother who’s not paying attention,’ I said. I took a breath. ‘Listen, why don’t I go home and you can spend some time with Dora?’

  ‘Really?’

  ‘Not too long. Because she’ll be getting tired. Shall we say an hour?’

  ‘Thanks, Helena,’ Greg said. ‘I really appreciate how good you’re being.’

  I shrugged. ‘Don’t think it’s easy for me,’ I warned. ‘Because it’s not. But I know it’s the right thing to do. See you at mine in an hour. Don’t be late.’

  I wandered off towards the other entrance of the park, close to my house. Halfway across the field, I stopped and looked back. Greg was laughing as Dora led Kimberly by the hand to the swings.

  For a second, my heart lurched. They looked like a real family. A proper unit. Just as I’d thought Greg and I were going to be, that day when I found out I was pregnant.

  I was no psychologist, but I knew that my desperation to give Dora a stable home life came from my own childhood. My mum was a wonderful grandmother, but when I was small she’d been absent – through no fault of her own – an
d that made me determined to be there for Dora. So when Greg had bailed, and I’d walked out, I’d never questioned my decision. If he was flaky, or uncertain, I knew I didn’t want him in my baby’s life.

  The few times he’d seen her that first year had left me feeling wobbly. I had been pleased – for myself if not for Dora – that he’d gone to Canada, so I could carry on building a life for my child.

  And I’d done it, I thought now, standing in the park watching them together. Dora was loved and she was happy, and she had a routine, and family around her. I had a job and enough money to pay for nursery and baby ballet, and the spaghetti hoops she liked. I would never forget to pay the electricity bill, or be so late to pick her up that she thought I wasn’t coming.

  At least, that’s how my life had been.

  It wasn’t like that any more.

  Suddenly, my job was uncertain and without that job I couldn’t guarantee I would always be able to pay the bills. With Greg back on the scene, I could picture a future where Dora spent her weekends being shunted back and forth between our houses. Lonely Christmases where she spent the day with him and Kimberley, and no doubt the other kids they’d have now he was father of the year, and I would be left watching Mrs Brown’s Boys with Lil.

  My stomach twisted again.

  Lil. She wasn’t even talking to me.

  I watched Dora put her arms up to Greg and I wanted to cry. How could my whole life have fallen apart? How could all the good, strong foundations I’d built it on suddenly have collapsed?

  With an uncharacteristic flash of rage, I knew who to blame.

  My father.

  I spun round and marched towards the entrance. I had to walk past my parents’ house to get home so I wasn’t even going out of my way. I just hoped he’d be there because I needed to get a few things off my chest.

  He was. And he wasn’t in his studio luckily – we weren’t allowed to disturb him when he was working, though the mood I was in, that wouldn’t have stopped me. He was in the kitchen.