Valerie

by Kit Eyre

  ‘Hit me then,’ she said.

  ‘I don’t know what to do,’ Amy admitted.

  ‘Start by talking. That’s why you’re here, isn’t it?’

  Amy took a shuddering breath then raised her eyes. ‘I didn’t apply to Durham. My grades weren’t good enough for Law and my tutor wouldn’t let me apply, so I didn’t. That’s why – that’s why Ed came to see you before. I’d just told him, but I was ashamed and I thought . . . I was trying to pretend I hadn’t screwed things up for as long as possible.’

  The words hung in the air, but they weren’t a bolt from the blue or anything like that. It turned out that, now Max thought about it, she’d expected it. Only maybe she’d avoided it as much as Amy had, not wanting to rock the boat. With Amy blinking through tears at her, she knew she had to find something to say though.

  ‘You’ve not screwed anything up,’ she said. ‘It’ll be all right.’

  ‘How?’ Amy questioned. ‘Biddy’s going to hate me.’

  ‘No, she loves you.’

  ‘She said last night that I can’t make mistakes, that I can’t see someone like Ed because it’s letting Dad down.’

  ‘I gave her a lift home and we got caught,’ Ed supplied.

  Max scrubbed at her neck. ‘It’s not getting caught. The pair of you haven’t done anything wrong. Look, Amy, she’ll come round to all of it in time. She’ll have to.’

  ‘Not when she finds out I’m not really her granddaughter,’ Amy said.

  It wasn’t the first time Ed had heard that titbit by the look of it, which Max was glad about. The way that ate away at Amy’d poison everything if she let it, especially her relationship with Ed. Going in honest was where Valerie always got it wrong. If Amy learned how not to do it from watching her mum then that was something at least.

  Both of them were watching her, Max realised. She cleared her throat and held Amy’s gaze.

  ‘Okay, look, what’s the worst that can happen? Talk it through with me, break it down.’

  Amy shivered and eased away from Ed. ‘I’m not going to Durham.’

  ‘So?’ Max pressed when she didn’t carry on.

  ‘I won’t be a lawyer. Biddy’ll hate me. If she kicks me out then I’ll have to go crawling back to – to Mum. I can’t do that, Max, I can’t.’

  ‘It won’t come to that. There’s always my spare room, that’s not something to think about. What else? You won’t be a lawyer so what next?’

  Amy tilted her head to the ceiling. ‘I’m supposed to know what I want to do and I don’t. I had it all figured out and it was easy like that. I’ve done everything wrong, haven’t I? You do the right A-Levels to get you on the right degree for your career. I planned it out and I messed it all up.’

  ‘It’s not that simple,’ Max argued, motioning to Ed sat with his shoulders hunched up to his ears. ‘He knows what it’s like when something chucks your world up in the air. You had all these secrets going on that you had to hide, no wonder you did what was expected of you. If your dad hadn’t got cancer, what would you have done for A-Levels? Would it have been Law?’

  ‘I don’t know,’ she said.

  ‘What is it you wanted to do?’

  ‘I wanted to be like him. So, I wanted to be a lawyer.’

  Max sighed and stood up. She stretched her legs across to the kitchen, filling the kettle and sticking it on to boil before she turned around. They were both still watching her from their separate cushions, looking like a pair of lost puppies.

  ‘It doesn’t follow,’ she said.

  Amy’s forehead creased. ‘What do you mean? I don’t understand.’

  ‘Wanting to be like him doesn’t mean becoming a lawyer. From what I know about him, it’s more like just doing something that helps other people. Like he did all that free work for charities and stuff, right? And he loaned Ed that money. That’s not because he was a lawyer.’

  ‘She’s right,’ Ed said.

  ‘You’ve got time to figure it out,’ Max continued before Amy came back with an argument. ‘It’s stupid, making people decide that young what they want to do. I fell into driving and I love it. You’ve got time and you’ve got options. You’re bright enough to do whatever you want, whatever you’re interested in. That’s how you make your dad proud, I’m telling you.’

  Amy wiped her eyes on her sleeve. ‘But I have to tell them. I can’t put it off for much longer. They’ll be asking how my exams go and – and Mum! She’ll probably want a photoshoot when I open my results. I have to tell them.’

  ‘But you’re not alone,’ Max said.

  ‘You’re not,’ Ed echoed.

  Amy looked between them, maybe searching for the lie. She must’ve come up short because her expression hardened. It was something Max had seen with Valerie – the way she absorbed something deep inside her and covered it in layers of something else. Judging from the look on Ed’s face, he found it disturbing as well.

  ‘It’s best to get it done,’ Max pointed out.

  ‘Before the election?’ Amy snorted. ‘Yeah, right.’

  ‘After, then,’ she persisted.

  ‘No,’ Amy muttered. ‘I’ll do it when I’m ready.’

  Max jumped as the kettle clicked off behind her then focused her attention back on Amy. ‘When will that be?’

  ‘As late in the day as possible,’ she answered with a shrug. ‘I’m my mother’s daughter, after all, aren’t I?’

  Chapter 32

  ‘Thank you for being here.’

  The gymnasium below was brimming with suited elbows colliding, occasionally on purpose. While the count staff were flicking through papers with remarkable concentration, rosettes of all different colours were glimmering under the harsh lights. Amy focused on spotting the flecks of colour to avoid looking at Valerie. That worked until she repeated her comment, coupling it with a nip to her forearm.

  Amy twisted from her reach. ‘I’m not here for you.’

  ‘Oh, I know, I know. But, nevertheless, I appreciate it.’

  ‘You didn’t exactly give me a choice, calling Biddy to remind her.’

  ‘It was a means to an end.’

  ‘Isn’t it always? Anyway, I’m not staying all night. Just long enough for them to take a few pictures, make sure Biddy knows I was here and you get your little publicity stunt too.’

  Valerie tapped her fingers on the handrail. ‘Sure, darling, that’s fine.’

  Amy shot a glance sideways under the guise of straightening her dress. This was her first direct encounter with Valerie since that night at Biddy’s. Everything else she’d seen had been orchestrated for the media through interviews and statements. Then, like now, her entire attitude screamed politician-in-waiting. A second sneaky look brought an inconsistency with it, though, as Amy spotted the way her nails scraped against the threads of her jacket. It could’ve been nerves, but she doubted it. Nerves were something Valerie would control for the sake of the cameras; this was more primitive than that.

  ‘Can we get a drink?’ Amy asked.

  Once the words permeated, Valerie acquiesced with one of her sham smiles and swished her inside the studio that was doubling as a café for the night. They settled at the most secluded table with a polystyrene cup of tea apiece, well away from the clumps of activists wearing red and yellow rosettes. They were buzzing around the television with excitement, but this little corner was thick with silence.

  Valerie suddenly touched her arm. ‘Amy?’

  ‘What?’

  ‘If this . . . I don’t know. If everything goes as it looks likely to – the way I need it to – will you spend more time at home? I won’t be there very much, but I’d still like to think of you there while I’m . . . You’re not listening to me, are you?’

  She stared into her cup. ‘Don’t worry, plenty of people do. And they actually voted for you.’

  The hope of provoking a response faded as Valerie remained silent. Amy felt her look away again and risked another glance at her face. Her attention had w
andered to the opposition activists, most of whom were glued to their phones or the television screen. They didn’t give anyone beyond their cliques a second thought, but Valerie was gazing at them as if she cared what was going on in their heads. The suggestion that Valerie was playing the bigger woman here was something Amy couldn’t stomach, certainly not at the moment, so she turned away.

  ‘Amy, how is she?’ Valerie asked abruptly.

  Her head snapped sideways. The expression on Valerie’s face had altered. It was as if the mask had cracked and emotion was seeping out through her eyes. Amy opened her mouth then closed it again, remembering the time and place. It was as likely to be a cynical ploy to work in a nice emotional mother/daughter moment for the cameras as genuine remorse.

  ‘She’s fine,’ Amy answered.

  ‘Do you . . .’ Valerie wet her lips. ‘Have you seen much of her?’

  ‘Yep.’

  ‘When – when was the last time?’

  ‘She gave me a lift here tonight.’

  Valerie brushed a crumb from the table. ‘That was nice of her. Well, unless it was on the clock.’

  Amy snickered.

  ‘I’m sorry, I’m sorry,’ Valerie said quickly. ‘That was a bad joke.’

  ‘Except it wasn’t, was it? If this was the other way around, you probably would start charging me, wouldn’t you? Or you’d refuse service, ban me from the premises – just like you tried to ban me from seeing her again.’

  ‘That isn’t fair.’

  ‘Fair? Really, are you going down that route? You’re worse than I thought.’

  Valerie suppressed a sigh. ‘Don’t pretend you know me. You’ve actively tried not to, remember that.’

  ‘So, all that time I spent with you and Max, trying to ignore everything you were saying and doing in the press and all over – that was not getting to know you, was it? I gave you the benefit of the doubt, I ignored the fact you had to be sleeping with Foster –’

  ‘I wasn’t,’ Valerie hissed.

  ‘You, me, and Max, we were a family. It wasn’t even like that with Dad. So, if that wasn’t being on your side, I don’t know what you want from me.’

  Clarity flashed across Valerie’s face, but then it vanished.

  ‘We’re going over old ground,’ she said. ‘There’s no point. Just answer my question.’

  Amy squinted at her. ‘What question?’

  ‘Will you come home if I win?’

  ‘I don’t have a home.’

  ‘You know that isn’t true,’ Valerie muttered.

  ‘I might stay there more, if that’s what you’re asking. It’s closer to Ed and Max.’

  Valerie briefly squeezed her eyes closed. ‘I really wish you wouldn’t see her. It isn’t doing anyone any good. I’m trying to help you, sweetheart. I know I hurt you, but if you’d just listen –’

  ‘No,’ she interrupted.

  ‘Amy –’

  ‘You don’t prove something to someone by telling them. You show them. You’ve shown what matters to you and it’s not me.’

  Valerie’s back straightened into her fighting stance. Then she seemed to remember where they were and raised her cup to her lips. She drained it before pushing it away and standing.

  ‘Shall we have a wander around the count floor?’ she suggested. ‘I’m sure you’ll enjoy it.’

  ‘Kev didn’t charge you, did he? I said to put it on account.’

  Amy walked through into the back. ‘You don’t have to keep doing that.’

  ‘Stick the kettle on and we’re even.’

  A few calls came through while she was making the tea, although Max had half an eye on the television flickering in the corner without the volume on. So far, only a handful of results had been declared and the main event was still the pundits preening themselves and crowing over exit polls. Amy passed one mug over to Max before settling on the sofa. Her wrist caught on something that looked like a lump of congealed vomit but was probably a stray ginger biscuit. She extracted it with a piece of newspaper then washed her hands and returned to her seat.

  ‘Sorry, he’s still not housetrained,’ Max explained.

  ‘I’m finding it comforting,’ Amy answered.

  Max tapped her thumb against her mug. ‘How was she?’

  ‘In her element. Focused.’

  ‘Right,’ Max replied.

  They sat in silence for a while. Max dispatched half a dozen calls, her attention returning swiftly to the television each time. As soon as the broadcast switched to the gymnasium across town, she grabbed the remote and turned the volume up. A result was due in the next fifteen minutes and, from the downcast expression on the Labour candidate’s face, it wasn’t to his liking. Once the broadcast returned to the studio, Max hit the mute button again and cleared her throat.

  ‘This is only an idea so don’t feel obliged.’

  ‘Okay,’ Amy said slowly.

  ‘Till you get your head sorted, why not work here for a bit after your exams are done with? It’s some experience for your CV and Drew reckons we could do with the help. Don’t worry, I didn’t tell him everything, just that you might want something to do over the summer to keep yourself busy.’

  Amy tilted her head to the side. ‘Are you serious?’

  ‘That depends whether you’re offended or not.’

  ‘Why would I be offended?’ she asked.

  ‘It’s not exactly high-flying, is it?’

  ‘You’re mixing me up with someone else.’

  ‘Course I’m not,’ Max said, leaning back in the chair until it squeaked. ‘Just doesn’t have many perks, that’s all. Take it from someone who spends half her life on here. You can read, that’s a good one. Tea and biscuits on tap, maybe down the sides of the sofa if I don’t rein Drew in. It’s not a bad place to spend a bit of time and get paid for it.’

  ‘Plus, it would really wind my mum up,’ Amy pointed out.

  Max shook her head. ‘That’s not why I’m doing it.’

  ‘I know that, I know. But it’s a brilliant side-effect.’ Amy paused and let the idea swirl for a minute. ‘If you’re sure then, yeah, I’d love to work here. Thank you.’

  ‘You’re welcome,’ Max said with the glimmer of a true smile.

  Ten minutes later, the broadcast switched back to the gymnasium and Max turned the volume up again. Valerie was stood on a small stage, physically dwarfed by the other candidates but with the smugness almost radiating from her. As her name was announced with a majority of over four thousand, a grin erupted on her face that probably seemed authentic to those who only knew her politically. To Amy, it looked as though her lips had been stretched with kitchen tongs then coated with scarlet lipstick. She shook hands with the returning officer and the other candidates before stepping forward to take the microphone.

  ‘Now, I haven’t prepared a speech or anything like that, but I obviously want to say a thank you to all the staff here for running the evening so smoothly. It’s such an important job and you do it unbelievably well. Also, I must thank my agent, my family, and a few good friends who helped me to this point. They know who they are so I won’t embarrass them by throwing names around. Of course, the biggest thank you must be reserved for every single member of the public who voted for me. I’ll make it my mission to represent you in Westminster and repay your faith. Thank you.’

  The audience began applauding and Max jabbed the television off.

  ‘That sounded like a speech to me,’ Amy said.

  ‘Yeah,’ Max mumbled.

  Amy bit on her lip as she watched her quivering shoulders. ‘Are you all right?’

  ‘Doesn’t matter. She got what she wanted. Sure she’ll be happy with it.’

  With that, she rose and took herself over to the kitchen. The kettle began boiling again and Amy’s attention strayed back to the blank television screen. That woman she’d seen accepting her new role as an MP wasn’t one who was capable of being happy. Amy knew that because she’d seen Valerie truly happy. That speech h
adn’t even been close.

  Chapter 33

  The office was sticky and the best Max had was an electric fan and a cold tap for company. She’d taken to going into the bathroom once an hour and sticking her head under the faucet for a bit of relief. She was wandering back to the switchboard with beads of water dribbling into her collar when she found some welcome faces on the other side of the glass.

  ‘Hey, what are you doing here?’

  Elena nodded into the pram. ‘She wanted a walk.’

  ‘It’s two miles away,’ Max said as she yanked the door open and crouched down. Hannah grabbed her finger in a pudgy fist and instantly tried to stuff it in her mouth. ‘Hiya, gorgeous. Hello, yeah, that’s mine. You can’t eat it.’

  ‘Drew not in?’ Elena asked.

  Max straightened up. ‘I could call him back if you –’

  ‘God, no, we see enough of him. You know, if you could see your way to giving him jobs that mean he can’t drive past the flat on his way back, we’d be grateful.’

  ‘It’s sweet,’ she said, trying to smother her grin.

  ‘Well, if it ever coincided with a nappy change, it’d be useful, but it never does.’

  Max chuckled and motioned her through the door. ‘Come on, I’ll put the kettle on.’

  ‘Have you seen the local today?’ Elena questioned. ‘It’s under there. Check page four, I’ll make the tea.’

  There was a new column on the right-hand side, headed by a glossy photo with a fixed smile. It was the same publicity print used on lampposts and leaflets that bore no resemblance to the woman Max had shared a bed with for months. That stray thought made her toss the paper aside without reading it.

  She untucked Hannah from the pram and settled down in the switchboard chair. The first call she answered got gurgles of astonishment as Hannah twitched her little head back and forth then she tried to eat the headset. As for Elena, she made the tea then sat on the sofa and closed her eyes with a mug wedged next to her arm.