Fallen Women

by Sue Welfare

  Giving the laburnum a wide berth she locked the car and stretched, feeling the blood creeping back through her body. The night was warm and heavy with the perfume of honeysuckle and night scented stock. Kate drank it all in. On the surface it seemed that nothing had changed; the spare key was there, tucked under the stone cat by the conservatory door where it had been ever since she could remember.

  Inside the air was cool and still and smelt of home.

  Tick-tick-tick, the hall clock welcomed Kate in. She shut the door and finally felt the tension in her stomach easing. Home. Dropping her bag onto the chest by the hallstand, every sense was suffused by wave after wave of compassion and nostalgia. It seemed like a very long time since Kate had been there. Certainly a long time since she’d caught the house this unguarded, undefended by the bright voices of her mother or her sister and the kids. Pulling off her coat, Kate walked across the lobby and switched on the kitchen light.

  ‘Who the fuck is that?’ barked a male voice.

  Stunned, Kate froze and looked up as the landing light snapped on. Peering over the handrail was a figure, a half-naked man, and behind him, leaning heavily against the doorframe and blinking down into the semi-darkness was her mother, Maggie.

  ‘I’ve rung the police,’ snapped Maggie, in a tough no-nonsense don’t mess with me kind of voice. ‘They’re already on their way. Stay exactly where you are and don’t do anything stupid.’

  ‘Mum?’

  There was a peculiar little silence, and then Maggie said, ‘Kate, is that you? What the hell are you doing here?’

  Which wasn’t exactly the sort of welcome Kate had expected.

  ‘Liz rang. She said you’d had an accident – she said …’ The words curled up and died in Kate’s throat. Her little sister, Liz, for whom every headache was a brain tumour, every chest pain a heart attack. It suddenly occurred to Kate that maybe it would have been a good idea to have rung the hospital and check on exactly how Maggie was and where she was before hurtling up to Norfolk.

  Not that that explained everything.

  As her eyes adjusted to the gloom, Kate could see the man on the landing more clearly. He was naked except for a small pair of very white pants. They were tight high-cut cotton pants that did very little to cover his nakedness – rather they enhanced it. Behind him Maggie was wearing a plaster cast to the knee, a dark silky chemise and not a lot else.

  Her mother.

  Kate took a deep breath and made every effort to rekindle her explanation. ‘Liz said you’d fallen down and broken your ankle and that you were all on your own and had got stitches and – and that she couldn’t stay here with you because of the girls. And …’ Those weren’t necessarily the things Kate really wanted to say, so she stopped. ‘What exactly is going on, Mum, and who the hell is that?’

  Maggie didn’t miss a beat.

  ‘Kate, I’d like you to meet Guy, Guy, this is my eldest daughter, Kate.’

  Guy nodded. ‘Hi, I’ve heard a lot about you,’ he said, as if this was the most natural thing in the world, and as he spoke pulled a bath sheet off the banister and wrapped it tight around his waist. He had no hips to speak of; a belly like the underside of a turtle, broad shoulders, what could surely only be a sun bed tan, but no hips. Kate felt that the towel was more to cover her embarrassment than his.

  ‘I’ll go and put the kettle on, Mags-baby, go and get yourself back into bed. Would you like some tea, Kate?’

  ‘Er, yes, please,’ she mumbled.

  He had to pass Kate on the stairs. He loped. He smelt of something trendy and couldn’t be more than thirty-five if he was a day. And he had been in bed with her mother. Her mother. Kate was very tempted to slap him.

  ‘Come on up,’ said Maggie, without a shred of the self consciousness or the shame Kate felt she surely ought to be feeling. ‘Why didn’t you ring to let me know you were coming?’

  Making every effort to compose herself, Kate said, ‘Because Liz told me that you were still in hospital. Did you really ring the police?’

  Maggie laughed. ‘No, no, of course not. You were making such a lot of noise that Guy thought if you were a burglar you were probably thick and might be taken in if we bluffed it out.’ She eased herself back into the bedroom, wincing with every step, and then lowered herself down very gently onto the side of her big feather bed. ‘There’s no way I could have stayed in hospital, it would have driven me crazy, and Guy was here, so they let me come home.’ As she spoke Maggie set about rolling a cigarette.

  ‘I thought you told me you’d given up.’

  Maggie looked up at her. ‘Give me a break, Kate.’

  Caught in the lamplight Kate could see that Liz hadn’t been exaggerating about the damage; one side of Maggie’s face was shiny, taut and navy blue with great claret and gold highlights, a row of stitches adding a macabre Frankensteinesque codicil to the fine skin above her eyebrow.

  For the briefest of instants Kate caught a glimpse of the woman her mother really was. Maggie Sutherland was small framed and attractive in a handsome rather than pretty way; she had good bones and her hair, styled into a shaggy chin length coupe savage and coloured to a warm glossy chestnut, was thick and wavy and framed a strong jaw line. It was a face shaped by time rather than worn down by it. She watched Kate watching her, ran her tongue along the sticky edge of the cigarette paper and at the same time lifted one perfectly plucked eyebrow.

  ‘Well?’ she said, picking up the lighter from beside the bed.

  ‘You shouldn’t smoke.’

  ‘I don’t, at least not very much these days. And?’

  ‘What happened – and who is that?’ Kate indicated the stairwell with a flick of the head, unsure what she wanted to ask first, unsure whether she really wanted to hear the answers.

  ‘Oh, come on, Kate,’ said Maggie, through a rolling boil of cigarette smoke. ‘What do you call them when you’re over fifteen? His name is Guy Morrison and he’s my lover, my companion, and yes, before you ask, he is living here. He’s letting his place while we see if this works out. Kind of a trial run.’

  Kate felt her jaw dropping but was powerless to stop it.

  ‘So that’s who Guy is.’ Maggie stopped talking and concentrated on flinching as she lifted her leg, trying to find a comfortable spot on the bed.

  Kate felt her colour rising. ‘Liz told me that you were seeing someone, but I thought – well, you know I was thinking more whist drives, grey hair and driving gloves. Days out in the country with a picnic and a corgi – but he’s, he’s –’

  Kate was squirming now. What exactly was it she was trying to say and why was she trying to say it? That Guy was way too sexy? Too young, far, far too good-looking. God, she would have been pleased these days if someone like Guy gave her a second glance, let alone clambered into her bed. Kate glanced back over her shoulder thinking about the way Guy had looked on the stairs; she’d have to make love with the light off and perpetually hold her stomach in. Kate tried to shift the image, while making a sterling effort to nip that particular train of thought in the bud.

  Side-stepping what Guy might or might not be, Maggie continued, ‘You and I don’t see much of each other, Kate. We’ve both got busy lives – it’s not always easy to explain things over the phone.’ In contrast to her earlier conversation with Liz it was a statement with not the barest hint of accusation in it. ‘And anyway I assumed you knew. Liz met Guy when she was here at Christmas.’

  Oh, Liz would have met him, thought Kate ruefully. How was it Liz knew all about her mother’s fancy man and why hadn’t she rung and told Kate? How could she have kept something like that to herself; Maggie was living with the man for God’s sake.

  But her mum was still talking and still looking at her. ‘Who really knows how serious these things are going to be and, Kate,’ she said, taking a long pull on the roll-up, ‘when we get right down to it it isn’t really any of your business who I’m sleeping with, is it?’

  Kate flinched and then blushed. ‘But you
fell over,’ she said, in a tone that implied that somehow the two events were quite obviously linked.

  ‘Which was my own fault, which was why I didn’t ring. Guy and I went out to lunch – it was Taz’s birthday – I don’t think you’ve met Taz. She works in the bookshop with me? Anyway, there’s a great new brasserie opened in the high street. They do the most fantastic food and cocktails and we all got there about twelve and didn’t leave until three and I –’

  ‘Came back here, pissed as a whippet, tripped over her handbag and fell down the steps round the back. Don’t be taken in by all this poor me stuff,’ Guy said warmly. ‘Besides nursing those bruises she’s also got a stonking great hangover. Do you take sugar?’

  Kate hadn’t heard him coming back up the stairs. She looked up into his big brown eyes and wished she hadn’t. Guy was truly gorgeous. Worse still, he loved her mother.

  He grinned. ‘Actually you look as if you could do with something a bit stronger. I know it must be a bit of a shock but she’s going to be fine. Do you fancy a drop of brandy, there’s some in the kitchen?’

  ‘No, thank you. Tea, no sugar, will be fine,’ Kate managed in a clipped tone, realising that she sounded uncannily like Liz.

  ‘Okay.’ He vanished back downstairs and Kate turned her attention back to her mother.

  ‘Embarrassing, isn’t it?’ laughed Maggie

  She could say that again, thought Kate, except Kate was almost certain that she and Maggie weren’t talking about the same thing.

  ‘I lay there for God knows how long. Guy had gone back to work. When I finally managed to get my act together I rang him on my mobile.’

  ‘Liz didn’t say anything about you being drunk.’

  Maggie snorted. ‘Good God, you think Guy told her?’

  Kate looked Maggie up and down, sitting there in her chemise, hair all mussed up, smoking a roll-up, and suddenly – amongst all the other emotions – was really proud of her.

  ‘Liz told me she thought it was a very good idea your mum taking me in,’ said Guy, returning with a tray. He sounded mischievous rather than cruel. ‘Someone to keep an eye on her, it put Liz’s mind at rest knowing that your mum wouldn’t be on her own at nights.’

  This time Maggie giggled.

  It was not the kind of giggle you would naturally associate with your mother.

  ‘It’s a damned good thing it happened today and not next week,’ Guy was saying. ‘I was supposed to be going to Germany first thing Monday morning.’

  ‘And you still will be. Stop worrying, I’ll be perfectly all right, I’ve already told you,’ Maggie said. ‘I can manage.’ She couldn’t, it was quite obvious, but that didn’t stop her sounding certain.

  Guy looked at her. ‘Sometimes I think that Liz is right, you are such a stubborn cow. I’m going to cancel and that’s final.’

  ‘Don’t be silly. It’s only for a few days. I can sleep downstairs if you help me make the bed up in the sitting room. It’ll be fine. I can use the loo downstairs and the shower.’

  Kate took the mug Guy offered her and tried not to concentrate on their bickering or ogle Guy’s exquisite body as he clambered back into bed, very gently lifting Maggie’s foot as he did so that she could settle back amongst a great heap of pillows. It occurred to Kate that he had probably carried her upstairs too. Damn him.

  Guy pulled the duvet up around them both. He had a tattoo, a dark blue Celtic knot that wrapped itself around his suntanned biceps. Kate looked away because her mouth had started to water and because she knew she was staring.

  This was not the natural order of things. Watching them in bed together, Kate had the same kind of feeling in her belly as she had had when she’d found a pile of girlie magazines under Danny’s mattress. It had come as a shock to realise her son might be sexually active; to discover her mother was was totally beyond comprehension.

  Maggie was still talking. ‘There are clean sheets in the airing cupboard, sweetheart. You can have your old room. Sorry that I’m not more talkative, but I’ve had a lot of painkillers tonight and I feel really spacey.’

  Really spacey? Really spacey? What sort of expression was that for your mother to use?

  ‘It’s all right, you really ought to try and get some sleep,’ Kate said briskly, gathering her things and her thoughts together. ‘I was planning to stay overnight and then come and collect you tomorrow from the hospital. Maybe hang around if you needed help –’ the words were coming out a touch too jauntily. ‘But I can see that you’re in very good hands. No need for me to stay.’

  ‘Do you want me to help you sort the bed out?’ asked Guy. ‘I’ve put your bag in your room.’ He made as if to get up again.

  ‘No, no. I’ll be fine, really I – thanks,’ she said waving him back down. ‘I’ll take my tea into the bedroom. Been a long drive –’ Kate yawned theatrically. ‘It was Liz. You know what she’s like. I wouldn’t have come if she hadn’t … I mean, and there’s Guy, I didn’t know about – well, I just thought …’ the words jammed up in her throat.

  Maggie smiled. ‘I’m really glad you did come, Kate.’ Spacey or not, her voice was soft and full of love. ‘Can you stay a day or two? It would be so good to catch up. It seems like ages since we’ve talked, I want to hear all your news. How are the boys? How’s work going? And Joe? I’ve missed you, sweet pea.’

  Kate looked from one face to the other and felt tears prickling up all hot and raw behind her eyes, which was all the more disturbing because it was the last thing she had expected. And then she nodded, ‘Maybe, probably, possibly.’ As she got to the door Kate realised she’d promised to ring Chrissie. The question was what the hell was she going to say to her?

  Chapter 3

  ‘Are you okay?’ said Guy, kissing Maggie gently on the forehead, careful to avoid the bruises and stitches.

  She sighed, welcoming his touch. ‘Better now that Kate’s here.’

  He stroked her hair back off her face. ‘Good. I’m sorry that she had to find out about us like this.’

  Maggie jiggled to try and get herself comfortable. Despite the painkillers, she couldn’t find an easy spot to settle. ‘I’m not ashamed of you, Guy – I love you – and the last thing I want is to hide you away from my kids, but I needed to be sure before I told them.’

  He grinned. ‘And you’re not?’

  She snorted and shook her head. ‘It’s all academic now, isn’t it? I suppose even though they’re grown up, I’m still protecting them. But honestly, I’m glad Kate knows and I’m sure it’ll be fine. Really. Just give it a bit of time.’

  ‘Is there anything I can do to make it easier? I’d really like Kate to like me.’

  Maggie grinned and settled her head down on his shoulder. ‘I don’t know – the usual stuff. Take her to the park, buy her a pony.’

  Kate phoned home because she’d said she would. She rang Chrissie’s house first and when no one answered, she hung up before the machine cut in and rang her house instead.

  ‘Got there okay, then?’ Joe asked. He had always had a natural talent for stating the obvious.

  ‘Yep, I’m fine thanks, safely tucked up in bed with a nice mug of tea,’ Kate said with a heartiness she most certainly didn’t feel.

  ‘Right. Chrissie’s still here, we’re just finishing off the last of the Baileys. Do you want to talk to her?’

  ‘I’m packing the dishwasher,’ Chrissie said, when Joe handed her the phone. Joe sounded pissed, Chrissie didn’t, and God only knows where Bill had got to.

  ‘Mum’s okay,’ Kate said. ‘Bit bruised and battered.’

  ‘You don’t sound too good either.’

  ‘It seemed to take hours to get up here and to be honest I was knackered before I left,’ Kate hedged.

  ‘So have you rung the hospital?’

  ‘No need to. When I let myself in Mum was already here.’

  ‘Bloody hell, that’s awful. I didn’t think they’d discharge her if she hadn’t got anyone there to look after her.’


  ‘They didn’t – she has. His name’s Guy.’

  ‘A man? Her neighbour?’

  ‘Her boyfriend.’

  ‘Wow! You didn’t tell me she was seeing someone.’

  ‘Because I didn’t know and no, it’s not “wow”,’ snapped Kate. ‘He’s the same age as I am. Younger probably – with a tattoo.’ And then Kate told Chrissie all about meeting Guy, very quietly and very quickly, because she wasn’t sure if her voice would carry and if Mum and Guy could hear her from their room.

  Curled up, warm and whispering in the gloom, her clothes neatly folded on the ottoman at the foot of the bed, wrapped in a duvet, Kate felt like a kid all over again, wondering if Mum and Dad could hear the radio. It was a disturbing sensation, sitting there in her old bed, staring at the same four walls that had surrounded her for the best part of her childhood.

  Although at least her parents had had the decency to decorate the room since the whole Adam Ant, Duran Duran, New Romantic phase, thought Kate ruefully. It was cream now with a navy blue picture rail, and curtains and bedclothes to match, her shabby teenage skip-chic replaced by handsome reclaimed pine furniture. A large mirror hung on the wall where her giant poster of Spandau Ballet once was, although screwing her eyes up, Kate could just make out the heart shape on the back of the door, carved into the soft wood with a dead biro, where she’d pledged her undying love for Tony Hadley, Spandau’s tall dark lead singer, the one with the floppy hair. It took her a moment or two to realise she’d stopped talking and at the far end of the ether Chrissie was still listening.

  ‘So, I’ve decided to come home tomorrow.’

  ‘Don’t be ridiculous,’ Chrissie snorted. ‘You’ve only just got there. Bill, Joe and the boys are planning a pizza and video fest tomorrow night. Blood, gore and lashings of extra pepperoni. It’ll be like the Mutiny on the Bounty here if you come back before Monday at the earliest. Besides you’ve already said your mum wants you to stay. I think you ought to – everything is going just fine here. What’s she going to do next week when this guy Guy isn’t around?’