by Kit Eyre
Valerie smoothed the creases from her shirt. ‘Sarcasm’s beneath you.’
‘Who’s being sarcastic? You didn’t tell Max about me, remember. Because you’re ashamed. You probably only told John because you didn’t have a choice. Hard to play the family values card then not introduce him to me. Max is better off out of it.’
‘As badly as you might wish it, she’s not your mother,’ Valerie snapped. ‘In fact, she’s nothing to you, she never was. This summer job’s nothing more than a desperate attempt to keep you close and keep you away from me.’
Amy shook her head. ‘If you actually believe that, you’re farther gone than I thought.’
There was a moment where Valerie’s eyes blazed. Then they glazed over and she walked over to the window. She straightened the curtains, trailing her hand along the fabric until a loose thread snaked around her thumb. It strained as she cracked it in two and the whole curtain billowed out with the pressure.
‘What is it you want from me?’ she asked, turning back. ‘What is it you hoped to achieve today apart from the theft of some valuable items?’
‘They’re mine,’ Amy said.
Valerie pressed her lips together. ‘Well, that’s a matter for debate. The question still stands – what do you want from me?’
‘Nothing. I don’t want to see you ever again.’
‘Unfortunately, that’s not an acceptable offer to me,’ Valerie replied in the same voice Amy had heard her use on the Daily Politics. ‘There’s really no deal to be had there. You want me to agree to you taking these items and then you disappear on me completely. That’s blatantly unfair, isn’t it? Under those circumstances, it’s really difficult for me not to share with Clarice that I have the same concerns about your choice of friends and the decisions you’re making. I wonder how she’d react to that.’
Amy’s jaw slackened. ‘You’re joking.’
‘No, I’m deadly serious,’ Valerie said. ‘I want you back for weekends.’
‘No chance.’
‘Well, then, no deal.’
‘You’re not in Westminster now,’ Amy said, trying to keep her voice steady. ‘You don’t get what you want by sounding nice about it.’
‘It’s your choice, Amy. Just think of the contrast – Max and Ed beside John. Who’s Clarice going to prefer, hmm? There’s really no contest. He can be very charming when he wants to be. I’m sure he could wrap Clarice around his little finger if I asked, they could become very good friends.’
Amy gripped the edge of the desk. ‘Mum, don’t do this.’
‘Weekends over the summer,’ Valerie answered with a bland smile. ‘That’s all I’m asking for.’
‘But what do you get out of it? I’m not spending nights curled up in front of the fire while he paws at you across the room. It’s not happening, not with him. We’ve been there and done that properly, remember.’
‘You’ll still be here,’ Valerie said.
‘And you still don’t win,’ Amy retorted. ‘I might be here, but it’s nothing more than a prison cell if you’re blackmailing me into it.’
Valerie gestured around at the oak bookcases. ‘This doesn’t look much like a prison to me. If I’d have had this growing up –’
‘What? You wouldn’t have got knocked up at seventeen by a married man? I tell you something, Mum – at least I know how contraception works. It would’ve saved you a lot of trouble if you hadn’t skipped that class, wouldn’t it? Except you wouldn’t have scored your meal ticket with Dad. That’s the trouble with Max, isn’t it? No money, no big name, nothing that can make you feel better than you are.’
She leaned back as Valerie reared up. Even at full height, she wasn’t much, but the flash of fury in her eyes was intimidating. Amy’s elbow cracked against the wall then, the next thing she knew, Valerie was steaming down the stairs. The house rattled as the front door slammed.
Until the noise had faded, Amy stayed perfectly still. Her elbow ached where she’d jabbed it into the wall, but her mind was fixated on the primal instinct that had triggered a reaction like that in Valerie. She’d been trying to provoke her, sure, but she’d been stubbornly stony up until that mention of Max.
Amy shook herself. It was better to take the things she’d meant to instead of trying to analyse Valerie’s state of mind. So, she continued extracting Tim’s personal possessions from the desk and stacked them where his computer used to sit. It ended up as a heap of pens, stress balls, and old diaries full of his precise handwriting. She couldn’t resist opening one up and lifting it to her nose, tasting the aftershave on her tongue.
Time was moving on and the fear of seeing Valerie again prompted her to pick up speed. She wrenched herself away from the study and cleared the possessions she’d accumulated in her bedroom over the months of Max being part of the family. She wanted it all out of here, whatever Biddy might think about it.
It took over half an hour to pack everything into her old school rucksack and a black holdall that Valerie used for overnight trips. If she wanted to be picky, that was the only thing that could be construed as theft, but Amy was willing to risk it.
Once she was ready to go, she lingered on the upstairs landing outside the study. It was almost dark now, shadows stretching across to gobble up the bookcases. Tim used to forget to turn the light on, finally reaching for the lamp when his eyes couldn’t strain through the gloom or when Amy disturbed him. She could picture him there, lifting his chin to smile and motion her inside.
The front door opened downstairs and she stiffened.
‘Amy?’ Valerie called.
She was about to respond when she remembered that the door had been on the latch. There was no need to alert Valerie to her presence when she could slip away without seeing her again, at least tonight.
‘Amy? Did you . . .’
Valerie’s voice trailed off then ruptured into sobs. Pure, unaffected sobs.
With delicate steps, Amy crossed the landing and eased herself down until she could see through the railings of the banister. There was nothing in her line of sight, but she suddenly recalled another occasion like this, something she’d buried away. After the final diagnosis – after the doctors had admitted there was nothing else they could do – Valerie had left them both upstairs in the study to make a cup of tea. Amy had followed for some reason and heard her like this, broken and distraught. She’d never mentioned it to anyone and it’d hidden itself away underneath her anger about everything that happened next. But, now, she remembered and her chest ached.
There was no chance that Valerie knew she was still in the house and, anyway, if she’d wanted to fool her with emotion, she would’ve tried that earlier. Her narrative was that she’d landed her dream job, she was making a name for herself, and she was engaged to a prominent politician. It was everything she’d wanted.
Yet, here she was, weeping in her own living room. Was this what she did these days? Come home, crack open a bottle of wine, and burst into tears?
Amy rested with her forehead against the banister until the sobs began to subside. Then she realised that, should Valerie decide to clean herself up in the downstairs bathroom, she’d catch her like this. The only thing to do was slink back into the study and find a way to alert Valerie to her presence in the house.
There was a stationery caddy on the desk, empty apart from a few paperclips. It was hefty enough to cause a thud, especially when dropped from height. She also circled the desk several times before finally collecting her bags to take downstairs.
Valerie had reassembled herself in record time. Her cheeks were clear and she’d even managed to reapply most of her make-up too. It would’ve taken a telepath to recognise she’d been crying when she glanced out of the kitchen.
‘Oh, I assumed you’d gone. You seemed so set on it.’
‘I’m going now,’ Amy replied.
‘Fine,’ said Valerie with a disdainful smile. ‘By the way, next Friday I’m in Wolverhampton for a meeting in the afternoon. It’ll
be a late one so you’ll have the house to yourself. We’ll be back about eleven, I’d think.’
That stray comment including Foster would’ve ignited another burst of anger earlier, but it wouldn’t even conjure itself into a spark now. All that hatred was submerged under a layer of compassion as Amy saw through Valerie’s defences into the raw emotion underneath. But she couldn’t let that seep into tonight, not when she needed time to think. So, she turned towards the front door and away from Valerie’s placid expression.
‘I’ve got to go,’ she said.
‘You’ll be here Friday. Won’t you?’
‘Of course,’ Amy answered without looking back. ‘You didn’t give me any choice, remember?’
‘Drew’s not here. Do you need him for something?’
Amy shook her head. Her attention was fixed on Hannah leaning over from Elena’s shoulder, little arms chugging around in loops. She finally caught a strand of Amy’s hair and stuffed it into her mouth triumphantly.
‘Are you okay?’ Elena questioned.
‘It was you I wanted to see, not Drew,’ she explained.
Elena nudged Hannah into her arms. ‘Here, you take her and I’ll put the kettle on.’
Cuddling Hannah was like juggling puppies. Her arms and legs, at least eight of them, were everywhere and the only way Amy found to keep her occupied was to go over to the living room window and start gibbering about the colours of the cars below. By the time Elena came in with the tea, their foreheads were resting together and Hannah was gurgling her contentment. Amy relocated them both to the sofa and propped Hannah up on her knee within grasping distance of Elena’s arm.
‘So, what’s going on?’ Elena asked. ‘I appreciate the company, don’t get me wrong, but you look like hell.’
Amy began massaging circles into Hannah’s back. ‘I went to collect some things last night. Drew probably told you.’
‘He mentioned it. I’m sorry about the engagement.’
‘Well, that’s the thing. Mum was there and we got into an argument about her letting me read it in the paper and everything. We really went at it, she was on top form. Biddy had called her already to say she disapproved of me being friends with Max and Mum turned that around on me. If I go back for weekends, she won’t collude with Biddy and kick up a fuss about me being around Max.’
Elena sighed. ‘I can’t say I’m surprised to be honest.’
‘When she’s in a corner, she comes out fighting. And she can really fight, you know?’
‘Mmm. I remember Christmas Day with Drew.’
‘So, I wanted to hurt her,’ Amy continued, focusing on the cotton of Hannah’s top. ‘I was actively trying to find something that would make her react and then I – I said some things about why she isn’t with Max anymore and they hit home. She walked out. When she got back, she thought I’d gone and she – she broke down. I mean, really, Elena, she was distraught. She thought she was alone in the house and it’s like she exploded. Everything came out.’
Elena squeezed the tips of Hannah’s toes. ‘Are you sure she didn’t know you were there?’
‘Positive. It was the way she acted when she realised I was in the house. She tried to hide it, she got herself cleaned up and everything. She was putting on an act then, not before. But I don’t even think the act was for my benefit. She’s miserable, Elena. I mean, I knew she wasn’t happy because I’ve seen her happy. With Max, she was someone else. I’d never seen her like that before, not even with my dad. Then she had to go and screw it up, didn’t she? I can’t believe what she did to Max – and to you guys.’
‘Neither could I at the time,’ Elena answered slowly. ‘You know, I was pretty frazzled that day at the hospital, of course I was. I’d just given birth and I looked horrific, whatever Drew said. They didn’t even give me chance to brush my hair before they turned the camera on, but I’m not sure she was expecting the full works like that. She was upset. Not much, but it was noticeable if you were paying attention. He wasn’t – Foster. Your mum was standing there, not saying a lot, looking pretty uneasy, and he took charge. Shoot the video, smile, have a chat. For him, it was calculated. It looked to me as though she had to force herself into it.’
Amy bit her lip. ‘I’ve seen that a lot lately.’
‘I think that she wanted to win so badly and saw that he could help her with that. The idea of her cheating on Max though . . . It still doesn’t sit right with me. I saw them together on Christmas Day and it stuck with me. They were comfortable with each other. Drew couldn’t see it – he never wanted to – but they were.’
‘I know,’ Amy muttered, ‘and I’m so angry at her for being so stupid, but I . . .’
‘But what?’ Elena pressed.
She rested her nose against Hannah’s wispy hair. ‘Before – before Max – I hated her for what she’d done, the lies she’d told. I saw everything that she did as selfish. The election was pretty much an extension of that. Power-mad, narcissistic . . . I couldn’t imagine why she’d be doing it if it wasn’t for the ego-trip.’
‘And what do you think it was now?’
‘I’m not sure. She had all the money my dad left her, she didn’t have to work. The diagnosis was cruel as far as her job was concerned. It would’ve taken a harder heart than she’s got to work there after he’d died. She’d got involved in politics a few years earlier, she said it gave her something to distract her from the grief she was surrounded by every day. After Dad died and I moved to Biddy’s, it’s like it became an obsession. Maybe it just happened to be there and it was the perfect antidote to everything else.’
Elena nodded. ‘That’s an explanation. Does it make a difference if that’s how it was?’
‘I don’t know,’ Amy admitted with a weak smile. ‘I saw her with Max, didn’t I? That was her – the real her. I liked it at home, I liked feeling as though I was part of a family again. And all I can see in her now is how miserable she is in comparison. Believe me, I don’t want to feel sorry for her. She’s been completely selfish. Except, sometimes, I’m not sure it is selfishness. I think it’s ambition gone wrong, something like that. And maybe fear of, I don’t know, letting me in and letting Max in. That means she loses control, doesn’t it? Like with Dad and the cancer and . . . I don’t know what to do.’
Her last words were accompanied by tears scorching her eyelids and Elena reached across for Hannah.
‘Oh, Amy . . . Here, let me take her so you can wipe your eyes.’
It was gratifying to hear the grizzling from Hannah as she was taken away. Amy watched Elena soothe her for a moment then retrieved a tissue from the coffee table. Once she’d blown her nose, she met Elena’s steady gaze again.
‘I never got the impression she loved me,’ she said as she stretched the tissue between her fingers. ‘I mean, she said she did, but you don’t prove it by what you say, do you? Until Max, it was like talking to a robot. She was saying all the right things, only not in the right way because . . . Well, because she didn’t know the right way. Tell me, Elena, come on. What do I do?’
Elena shifted Hannah to her shoulder again. ‘You don’t have to do anything. It’s not your mess. They’re adults, let them work it out themselves.’
‘But they won’t, will they? John’s so self-absorbed that he wouldn’t notice if Mum grew a new head unless it made it onto the front pages. And Max won’t make a move – why should she after everything that’s happened?’
‘What about your mum?’ Elena questioned.
Amy pulled the tissue until it split in pieces. ‘Too proud, too ambitious. Maybe too far gone.’
‘It does sound like she’s realised there’s a problem.’
‘So, what?’ Amy returned. ‘There’s a difference between realising it and doing something about it, isn’t there?’
Chapter 37
‘Feels like I’m the Queen or something. It’s my favourite meal and everything.’
Elena chuckled as she spooned more cottage pie on to the plate. ‘Drew
said it was and, truth be told, it’s one of the only things I can make with that little madam the way she is at the moment. That’s why we’re living on frozen pizzas most of the time.’
‘Suits me,’ Drew said through a mouthful of potato.
‘Yeah, it would,’ Max retorted. ‘Anyway, cheers, Elena. For inviting me, that is.’
‘It’s as much for my benefit as yours,’ she replied. ‘I need human interaction every now and then, and Drew doesn’t count.’
The three of them fell to eating the cottage pie, though Drew somehow managed to do it while bouncing Hannah on her knee. They didn’t get into anything heavy while they ate, much to Max’s relief. She’d been worried about the summons over here, reckoning it might lead into a double-barrelled assault about trying to find another woman. Drew had ratchetted his nagging game up at work and she couldn’t do with Elena jumping on the bandwagon.
She tagged along with Drew after dinner to bathe Hannah while Elena washed up. They settled her down then went back to the living room where another beer was waiting for the pair of them. Drew dumped himself on the sofa and began picking at his feet, only stopping when Elena chucked a cushion at his head. He grumbled about it before looking over at Max.
‘You talked to Amy much lately?’
She shrugged. ‘About as much as you. Why?’
‘Seems off, that’s all. Been snappy with the lads. They don’t mind it, they’re used to worse from you, but they’ve said it’s strange. They like her.’
‘Why have they been talking to you about it?’ Max asked.
‘They wanted to check nothing was up.’
‘Yeah, why not talk to me? You’re practically part-time at the minute.’
He crossed his legs. ‘Well, some of them reckon that . . . I mean, they know you got her the job and she’s pretty –’