Valerie

by Kit Eyre

  The car park was crowded, but they managed to wedge into a space between a transit van and a Vauxhall slanted across the lines. It took Max a few seconds to manoeuvre her way out of the driver’s seat then she rushed off towards the main building, dodging puddles and lumps in the tarmac, with Amy on her heels. They made it through the clumps of visitors hovering in the atrium and into the lift, although they both swayed on the spot when it lurched into life.

  Max’s speed ebbed the closer they got to the entrance of the Carless Wing. As they reached the reception desk, Amy found herself ahead and it was natural for her to take the lead with the nurse gazing expectantly over her computer.

  ‘We’re here for Andrew Wallace, Elena Marshall’s partner. He didn’t leave details, but he asked us to come straight here.’

  The nurse checked a notepad. ‘I’m expecting a Max Jarvis.’

  ‘Yes, this is Max.’

  ‘And who are you?’

  ‘I’m a – a friend. I was with Max when . . . Well, I’m a friend of Drew’s too.’

  ‘Unless you’re a family member, I think you might be better waiting downstairs –’

  ‘No,’ Amy interrupted.

  ‘Given that the circumstances are –’

  ‘Do you know who Valerie Smythe is?’

  A frown stretched over the receptionist’s face. ‘Excuse me?’

  ‘Valerie Smythe. She’s a candidate in the election next month, she’s probably going to win. She’s a friend of Elena’s as well, and I’m her daughter. I can call her if you want – to vouch for me.’

  Out of the corner of her eye, Amy saw Max’s head snap sideways, but she didn’t care anymore. She instead focused on the nurse, holding her gaze and hoping that she was doing a passable impression of her mother for the first time in her life.

  ‘Do you have any ID?’ the nurse queried finally.

  A flash of her student card was enough to get them through the door. Amy grabbed Max’s arm to hurry her along, although they both faltered at the sight of Drew drooped into a seat at the far end of a bank of chairs. Other people in the waiting room were flicking through magazines and checking their phones, but Drew was staring out of the large window towards the greyish town without blinking. Amy glanced sideways, finding Max’s face frozen too. Amy just about managed to steer her in front of the chairs then she let go of her arm and kneeled on the hard floor.

  ‘Hey, Drew,’ she said softly.

  He tilted his chin up. ‘You came.’

  ‘Of course we did. But, listen, you didn’t . . . Well, you weren’t very specific in your message. What’s happened?’

  ‘They – they’ve taken her for a C-section,’ he said as he jammed his knuckles into his kneecaps. ‘Something to do with the cord. It wasn’t right so they needed to . . . There was something wrong. Something not right, they said.’

  Max sat next to him with a thump. ‘But they’re operating, yeah? That’s good, mate. That means they’re getting it sorted.’

  ‘No, it’s like last time, it’s like that. I should – I should’ve been watching. I’ve missed something, that’s what it is. I’ve missed –’

  ‘You’ve been watching like a hawk,’ Max cut in. ‘You’ve been driving us all potty with it. Look, have they said how long it’ll be?’

  He chafed at his beard, working a few hairs loose. ‘Soon, it’ll be soon. Unless there’s . . . I said I wanted to be in there, but they said no. That’s not good, is it?’

  ‘Mate, I wouldn’t let you anywhere near anything important looking like you do this minute. They probably saw your history and reckoned it’d be best to keep you out of the way. Best for Elena, yeah? So she’s not worrying about you when there’s more important stuff to be thinking about. Isn’t that right, Amy?’

  ‘Definitely,’ she replied. ‘They do these operations all the time, Drew. It’ll be okay.’

  His speech seemed to have dried up again. Amy shifted from her kneeling position to take the seat on the other side of Max while keeping one eye on Drew hacking away at his palms with his fingernails. She watched until he drew blood then averted her gaze to Max, receiving a feeble smile in return. However long they stayed like that, it startled them all when a nurse walked in front of them.

  ‘Mr Wallace?’

  Drew stumbled to his feet. ‘Yes?’

  ‘Mother and baby doing fine,’ the nurse said without preamble. ‘Your daughter’s beautiful, Mr Wallace. 7lb and 3oz and a tremendous set of lungs on her. Do you want to come through?’

  Both Amy and Max jumped up, grabbing his arms as he threatened to topple over.

  ‘She’s okay?’ he croaked. ‘They’re okay?’

  The nurse patted his shoulder. ‘They’re doing very well and Elena’s asking for you. Come and see. Your friends can wait here for you.’

  ‘Go on, you idiot,’ Max said, prodding him.

  Every step he took was sluggish, but he made it through the door with the help of the nurse. As it swung closed, Max crumpled back into her chair and covered her face for a second. Then she straightened up and fumbled for her phone.

  ‘I should call your mum,’ she said. ‘It’s only polite since we used her name to get in here.’

  Amy snatched the phone away. ‘Tell me you’re not serious. How can you carry on as if nothing’s happened?’

  ‘What she wrote wasn’t nice but –’

  ‘Not nice? Is that it? She’s a hypocrite, Max. What about all the homophobia?’

  ‘She’s not homophobic. We know that.’

  ‘What, so that’s all that matters? That lets her off the hook?’

  ‘Amy, it’s not –’

  ‘No, no, I’ve had enough. You don’t want to jeopardise it so you don’t push, that’s how she wants it. I haven’t wanted to screw it up either so I kept things to myself and – No, I lie. That’s what I do. Thanks to her, that’s what I’ve had to do for years. And I didn’t want to – I couldn’t tell you the truth because I love having you around. I love pretending we’re some sort of family. It’s not even like it was with Tim because then I didn’t know everything. I was a kid and it – it changes things, about how I think about everything. You don’t know. It changes everything.’

  Tears scorched at her eyelids and she tried to swipe them away with the back of her hand. She suddenly realised she was still clutching Max’s phone and dumped it in her lap. Although Max picked it up, she stuffed it straight into her pocket and retrieved a box of tissues from a nearby table instead. They were probably causing a real scene, but Amy couldn’t see beyond the creases in Max’s face as she blew her nose.

  ‘What lies?’ Max questioned.

  Amy crumpled the tissue into her fist. ‘Can I ask you something first?’

  ‘Go for it,’ she said.

  ‘I know that we – we met because you were seeing my mum and we wouldn’t have talked otherwise but . . . I mean, are we only friends because you’re with her?’

  Max shook her head. ‘We get on, don’t we? I reckoned so.’

  ‘What if you broke up?’ Amy asked.

  ‘You and me are mates, it’s nothing to do with your mum. But I’ll just talk to her –’

  ‘Don’t,’ Amy interjected.

  ‘I can’t say nothing. She’ll see the state of the house.’

  Amy clamped her fingers together and forced her eyes up to Max’s. Those things she wrote . . . There was one about families. Real families.’

  ‘You mean against gays?’

  ‘No, not directly. But s-she makes a big deal about me being born into a secure family. That’s what I mean when I say she’s a hypocrite, not just the homophobia. That’s bad enough, but she lied, Max. She said she was married to my father when I was born.’

  Max sighed. ‘Is there something about the dates then? They didn’t get married in time?’

  ‘The dates,’ Amy said with a snigger. ‘Yeah. Problem being that the date I was conceived was about two months before Valerie Gordon ever met Tim Smythe. He wasn’t m
y biological father.’

  ‘But that’s . . .’ Max trailed off and squinted at her. ‘No, that’s not –’

  ‘She was seeing this married man. That’s all I know about him – that he was married. After she got pregnant, he didn’t want anything to do with her and she didn’t want to end up like the rest of her family, stuck in dead-end jobs and pokey flats. So, she panicked. She latched onto the first decent man she found and married him. She landed completely on her feet, as per usual.’

  ‘How could Tim not –’ Max began, but Amy cut her off.

  ‘Of course he knew.’

  ‘And he just went along with it?’

  She nodded, managing a smile. ‘It never really mattered to him, not until the end. I didn’t know then . . . It was practical, that’s all. He thought I had a right to know and he didn’t think Mum would ever tell me, even if I needed a kidney transplant or something. He was right. She’d let me die before telling me the truth.’

  ‘That’s not true,’ Max murmured.

  ‘Isn’t it?’ she retorted.

  ‘You know it’s not.’

  ‘It’d screw with the image she paints of herself as the perfect widow, wouldn’t it? You don’t print on leaflets that you got knocked up at seventeen and then jumped on the first man that had the misfortune to walk past. It wouldn’t play well with the voters – or Biddy.’

  Max’s chin lifted. ‘So, she doesn’t know?’

  ‘I couldn’t tell her, even Dad was too scared to. That’s what Mum reminded me of when she warned me to keep quiet.’

  ‘Warned?’ Max repeated. ‘Did she threaten you?’

  ‘That sounds harsh,’ she conceded then she snickered and rolled her eyes. ‘God, why am I defending her? She basically said I keep quiet or I’d lose Biddy and the money and – and everything Dad wanted me to have. This was before she met you, when she suddenly decided to become a politician. It’s why I moved out.’

  For a minute, Max turned her head away. Amy sniffed and focused on the view across the town, counting the lights that were springing from the grey skies as they faded to black. She kept losing her thread somewhere near the spire of St. Catherine’s and starting over again.

  ‘Who’s John Foster?’ Max asked abruptly.

  Amy swallowed down the lump in her throat. ‘Whenever she’s at an event or meeting with someone else, it’s usually him. Even on your birthday, she was with him. You don’t check up on her – I do. He’s always there in the background, every time she’s campaigning.’

  ‘That doesn’t mean she’s seeing him.’ Max hesitated, rubbing her throat. ‘If there was something going on, I’d know.’

  ‘How?’ Amy queried.

  ‘Because there wouldn’t be a point, that’s why. Keeping me around doesn’t help. It gets in her way if what you’re saying’s true.’

  ‘But she loves you, Max. Really, she does. Before today – before I saw those articles – I would’ve said she was being honest about what was going to happen after the election. She said she’d tell you about my biological father, that she had no intention of hiding it from you forever. She said she’d be open about it, that you’d move in and we’d be a proper family. No more sneaking around and pretending we weren’t. But if she’d published those articles . . . That would’ve been it. She couldn’t go back on something like that, and I – I don’t want to see you get hurt. You don’t deserve to be messed around.’

  Max looked away again and Amy glanced around the waiting room. Most people were lost in their own little worlds, although one middle-aged couple nearby were gawping. Even if they’d heard enough to cripple Valerie’s career, Amy couldn’t care less.

  ‘I shouldn’t have told you, should I?’ she questioned when the silence dragged on.

  ‘You did right,’ Max replied.

  ‘I’m sorry.’

  ‘Hey, don’t you dare,’ said Max, turning back sharply. ‘She’s put you in this position, it’s not your fault. You’ve done your best to hold it together and you’ve done a bloody good job. But you shouldn’t have had to. It’s done with now.’

  ‘Done?’ Amy echoed. ‘Does that mean you’re out finally?’

  Max shifted in her seat. ‘I don’t know. But you can be. You don’t have to put up with it. Just get to uni and away from her full stop, it wouldn’t do her any good threatening you then.’

  Until she said that, Amy had almost forgotten under the weight of everything else that had happened today. The truth crumbled around her shoulders and she jumped up, more to distance herself from reality than Max. She saw the flash of hurt in her face, but it was too late to explain.

  ‘I’ve got to get back to Biddy’s,’ she said.

  Max’s shoulders sagged. ‘Call the office. Tell them to put it on account.’

  All Amy managed to do was nod before she stumbled towards the door. More people were staring now; she felt the eyes burrowing through her, but it didn’t matter. The only tangible thought she could muster when she forced the door open was that she was still trapped by Valerie and her lies. There was no way out of it now she’d screwed up her career prospects.

  Chapter 27

  ‘Amy gone?’

  Max jolted out of her trance to find Drew wavering in front of her, a stupid grin splattered across his face. She didn’t know how long she’d been sat there, though the whole waiting room seemed quieter now than it had before. Despite the gnawing in her chest, she had to smile along with him as he plonked himself next to her.

  ‘She had to get back to her gran’s. How they doing?’

  He yanked his phone from his pocket and fiddled his way through the gallery. There were at least a dozen pictures of Elena clutching this wrinkled thing to her chest and one of Drew pressing a kiss to the baby’s button nose. Max looked up and met his eye.

  ‘She’s gorgeous,’ she said.

  ‘They both are,’ he answered.

  ‘Have you got a name yet?’

  His attention had caught on the screen again. ‘Hannah Elizabeth.’

  ‘And she’s healthy, yeah?’ Max asked.

  ‘Oh, yeah,’ he said with a chuckle. ‘Ten fingers, ten toes, right set of lungs on her.’

  ‘What about Elena?’

  ‘Shattered, bit sore, but other than that . . .’ Tears suddenly sprang into his eyes and he mopped them away with his thumb. ‘It happened, Max. It’s okay.’

  The knot in her stomach untangled a bit. ‘Told you so.’

  Exhaustion took her home and she got drunk for good measure. Only when she woke up the next morning did she check her phone, finding a load of missed calls from Valerie and two voicemails she deleted without listening to. There was a message from Drew asking her to come in for lunchtime visiting, so she took off to cover the morning switchboard shift and then arranged cover for the afternoon. She was working on the basis that carrying on like nothing had happened was the right way to go, especially since she didn’t know where to start approaching everything that had happened yesterday.

  Drew was waiting for her by the main entrance when she got to the hospital. He looked dead on his feet, even if that goofy grin was still plastered to his face.

  ‘Elena says to get a coffee and leave her to get some peace,’ he explained.

  ‘You’re doing her head in already then.’

  He wafted her towards the canteen. ‘Oi, the nurses are already calling me Super Dad.’

  ‘Probably to shut you up.’

  With him, it was easier to act like nothing had gone on. They got a coffee and he spent a good twenty minutes rabbiting on about Elena and Hannah, getting too close to the mechanics of a C-section for Max’s liking. She steered him back onto how gorgeous the kid was until he’d finished his Americano and, by then, she wanted to see Hannah instead of hearing about her. Drew was all for that – jumping up and knocking into an old lady stuttering across the canteen with an orange juice. Once he’d paid for another drink for her, they were set to go.

  The nurse on the maternity
reception seemed on edge when she buzzed them through. Max glanced over her shoulder once Drew had pushed open the door and found her picking up the phone. Another nurse was ready and waiting with the ward door open and, finally, Drew cottoned on that something wasn’t right. He picked up speed, bolting into the ward, taking a left then skidding to a halt so fast that Max barrelled into him. Before she could ask what was going on, she caught sight of the scene in front of her.

  A cameraman and a soundman were on one side of the bed, filming a wailing Hannah while Elena stuttered something inaudible to Valerie. She was dressed for business in a black suit and crisp blouse that Max recognised from the wardrobe, but it was the stocky man next to her who was hogging the limelight. It was the politician that Amy had mentioned – John Foster. Max would bet her life on it.

  ‘What the hell’s going on?’ Drew demanded.

  Foster stepped forward with a wide smile. ‘This must be the proud father. Let me shake your hand, sir. It’s a pleasure to meet you.’

  Drew snatched his arm clear and grabbed the soundman instead. While he yelped about his equipment, the cameraman sensed the gig was up and backed away sharpish. Valerie just straightened her sleeves and murmured a goodbye to Hannah. It was only when she reached the door that she acknowledged Max at all.

  ‘Oh, I’m sorry,’ she said. ‘May I get past?’

  Max took two steps back and her spine cracked into a trolley. Valerie didn’t say a word, just breezed off out of the ward with Foster and the crew in tow.

  Drew rounded on Max. ‘Was this your doing?’

  ‘Course not, I wouldn’t – Elena, I didn’t –’

  ‘I know it wasn’t your fault,’ she cut in.

  ‘Like hell it wasn’t,’ Drew spat.

  Elena cleared her throat and motioned for him to take Hannah. ‘Maybe you can calm her down for me.’