by Jane Davis
'Well, it's highly irregular, if you ask me.' She sat down at the kitchen table and said over her shoulder in my direction, 'I'll have that coffee now, if you don't mind.'
'Mum! I think you could show Pete a little courtesy in his own house.' Laura sat down opposite her. 'He's not a waiter.'
'I'm the grandmother,' Mrs Albury tapped her chest forcibly. 'What about the courtesy that should be shown to me? You think it's easy living round the corner from your daughter and having every Tom, Dick and Harry tell you that she's taken your grandchild and moved in with that solicitor chappie as soon as her husband's out of town for a few days? And it's not the first time, is it? You conveniently forgot to mention that, didn't you?'
'And you wonder why?' Laura raised her voice to match her mother's. 'Look at the way you're reacting. The truth is, I thought you might have thought badly of Tom for leaving me with Andrea.'
'Work is work,' Mrs Albury replied. 'Needs must. But this is wrong. Mark my words, the whole town's talking about it. And they can all see I'm rattling round in a big house on my own.'
'Do you think it's easy asking your mother for help, when she's criticized your choice of husband from the start?'
'I'll take Andrea next door,' I said and wandered through to the living room, ignored. This only resulted in voices being raised further, and Andrea started to grizzle. I set her down on the floor and distracted her with a toy, enjoying her reaction, while keeping one ear on the conversation next door.
'I have not! I only said that I was worried that he would never be able to support you. And it's true. Look me in the eye and tell me you're not worried about money. I would have preferred you to have chosen a man with a profession behind him, I'll admit it. Or at least a permanent job. Am I not allowed to express a little concern for my daughter? But I would never criticize Tom. You've only got to listen to folk around town to know what a good man he is. I hear he did some work for the Stevenses last month when Bob was out of work and he wouldn't take a penny for it. That's the sort of man you married, Laura, so why are you afraid of asking your own mother for help?'
I heard Laura laugh out loud.
'Well, what's that for?' her mother asked. 'I can't see what's so funny.'
'You see!' I could imagine Laura shaking her head, 'That's your idea of an offer of help. The neighbours are talking, Mrs Jones has told you how wonderful Tom is and suddenly you're on his side.'
'There are no sides, Laura.' Mrs Albury was stern. 'Not when there's a child involved.'
'We're very happy here, thank you.'
'Not too happy, I hope. Don't you put your marriage at risk, Laura. I know your history with that man.'
'The man that you're referring to is my best friend!'
'Exactly!'
'And what is that supposed to mean?'
'You think that there's such a big difference between a husband and a best friend? It's a much finer line than you think. You have put yourself in a position where you could cross that line very easily. I'm not saying that you would do it deliberately, but mark my words—'
'That's it!' I heard a chair scrape. 'I've heard enough.'
'I don't mean to hurt you, but I wouldn't be doing my job as your mother if I didn't say these things. Do you think I want to see you upset? And you should think about how it looks, not because you care what the neighbours think, but for Andrea's sake. It's not just you any more. You're a mother, for goodness' sake.'
'Pete,' Laura called unnecessarily loudly, 'my mother has to leave now. Could you bring Andrea through so that she can say goodbye to her.'
Laura had her arms crossed in front of her and was standing by the doorway to the kitchen, while her mother was still seated. She stood as she saw Andrea toddle into the hall holding my hand and smiled, kneeling down to kiss her fine, feathery hair. 'Goodbye, petal. Come and see your nana soon, won't you? You take after your daddy, my love, don't you?' And she stood to look me in the eyes, tight-lipped. 'Goodbye, Peter. Give my regards to your parents. There's a fine example of a marriage.' It might have sounded like a kindness but it was a criticism. As far as I was aware, my parents barely knew the Alburys. I heard Laura's sharp intake of breath behind me. There was nothing to be gained by reacting so instead I herded Mrs Albury towards the front door as quickly as possible.
'I'll pass on your regards,' I said.
'Tell Laura that her mother is a lonely old woman and would like to see more of her only grandchild before she dies.' (She hadn't reached fifty at the time but she had aged visibly since she lost her husband.)
I watched her walk down the path and then close the gate.
'Has she gone?' Laura called out from the kitchen, where she was sitting with her head in her hands.
'She's gone.' I shut the front door and, turning, I crouched down to Andrea's level and held out my arms. 'Come to your Uncle Peter,' I said to her.
Laura sighed. 'Bolt the door behind her, would you?'
I knew Laura needed space and so did I, for that matter. 'I'm taking Andrea upstairs for her nap. I'll sit with her for a while and read.' I waited for a reply that did not come. Climbing the stairs slowly with Andrea's hand in mine, I peered over the banisters to see the back of Laura's head bent over the kitchen table.
Later she appeared looking dishevelled, and sat in the spare chair in the nursery of what had once been my bachelor pad. 'I'm going to have to talk it through with Tom, but I think we're going to have to go and live with my mother. Then we won't have to worry about money. We can all stop fighting and Tom won't have to give up on his dreams.'
'I know.'
'I hate all this moving.' She tried to smile. 'I have nowhere I can call home any more. And we've been really happy here. Andrea is so settled into her routine.'
I nodded, not without an element of pride.
'We make a good team, don't we?' she said, bringing one hand up to my shoulder. 'I can't think of any part of my life that would work if I didn't have you as a friend.'
'Can I say something without causing offence?'
'Go on,' she sniffed nervously.
'Your mother is a bit of a tyrant.' I tried to make a joke of it.
She laughed. 'She certainly speaks her mind.' But then she became serious: 'But why, oh why, does she always have to be right about everything? Do all mothers have that knack?'
'Mine never says what she thinks about anything. We get along just fine like that.'
'I'm so tired of fighting. I need things to be simple.'
We were quiet for a while.
'I used to be a rock chick once, you know,' she said to Andrea, picking her up when she started to stir. 'Before I was your mummy. One day, Uncle Pete will show you his photos and you'll ask, "Who was that beautiful lady?" And he'll say, "That was your mother when she was very, very young. And she was, quite simply, magnificent." '
'She still is.'
Part Six
Andrea's Story
Chapter Thirty-one
'We need to talk, love,' Lydia said, bustling past me into the hall. I watched her waddle into the kitchen, which she had made her own in the absence of anyone taking a real interest in it. I had become a microwave cook. It wasn't that I didn't know how, I just found it depressing cooking for one. My staple was jacket potatoes, with a little melted cheese if I was feeling adventurous.
By the time that I had entered the room, she had taken charge and was already filling the kettle. 'I've got news for you and a small confession to make,' she announced with her broad back to me. It was only when she turned around that I realized how flustered she looked. Her hair was curled damply around her face and her skin was red and clammy.
'Let me do that.' I reached for the tea bags. 'You look as if you need to sit down.' When she offered no resistance I added jokingly, 'Now I know I should be worried.'
She responded with a little laugh and brought her hand to her mouth as if to stifle it. There were no signs of merriment in her eyes and she was clearly in distress.
'Lyd
ia, what's wrong?' I asked, deeply concerned. 'The news isn't too terrible I hope?'
She shook her head.
'Kevin's OK?'
She nodded quickly, frowning, her mouth still clamped in place.
'And you're all right?'
Again a nod.
'Well, thank God for that.' After depositing a cup of tea in front of her – a proper cup and saucer, the way she liked it – I took a seat and waited for her to begin. 'You'd better put us both out of our miseries then.'
'I never thought I'd be this nervous,' she managed, before putting her hand back in place.
'You can't leave me in suspense now.' I put my hand on the arm at the end of the offending hand. 'I need to know, no matter what the answers are.'
She took a deep breath and said, 'Well, here goes. This is hard for me so it might come out wrong. I had my own reasons for offering to go to London for you. You see, after my Kevin told me that he will always think of me as his mum, I suddenly realized that I don't know anything about where he comes from. I was that desperate for a little one at the time. I don't even know the name that his parents gave him. It didn't seem important before. And there's something else you should know. My Kevin's always believed that you're his sister.'
I laughed, having expected something far more terrible. 'But why would he?'
'Someone might have let him think that your parents were his birth parents.'
'Who would have done that?'
She sat, stony-faced, before explaining. 'There was a stage in his life when he needed to know. He needed to believe in something. After we lost my Bill, he went through a very difficult patch. Everyone had always let him down and here was someone else who had left him. Except that there was no one he could blame this time. Maybe it was my fault for uprooting him when he already had so much change to get used to. We knew that he had actually been born locally even though he was pushed from pillar to post. To me, it felt like I was bringing him home. Maybe I only thought about what was best for me. I honestly thought that we would be all right if we stuck together. He found it hard to settle. When he tried to make friends, the kids at school claimed they couldn't understand a word he said. Well, he started to play up. I couldn't control him and the police were involved. This is a small place and your parents were so well known. Tom has always been Tom, and everyone loved him. And your mother was . . . well, she was just beautiful. If you wanted an example of a perfect couple, they were it. I didn't mean anything by it, but I let slip that your mother had had a child at about the same time as he was born, which was true. Kevin assumed I meant him.'
I listened in silence. Lydia had become one of the people whose judgement I had come to trust the most, but here she was telling me that she had let her adopted son believe that some of his nearest neighbours were family. She misread the look on my face and thought that I was shocked that our family secret was public knowledge.
'I'm afraid that you can't keep anything to yourself around here. My sister told me. Everyone was so upset that your mother lost her child. I'm sorry, love. I should have told you, especially when you showed me them photos, but I wasn't expecting to see your Uncle Pete in there. That threw me. Not even the local gossips knew about that.'
I shook my head. 'But they lost the baby. Why didn't you explain to Kevin that he couldn't have been their son?'
'I tried to, love, I really did!' She held my hand. 'Maybe I'm not telling this right. I made one throwaway comment. It wasn't like we were having a big discussion about where my Kevin had come from at the time. But he had lost so much. He clung on to the idea of it, more than anything else. He needed to believe something, so he latched on to that. It didn't matter that it couldn't have been true.
'Almost straight away, he became a different person. He was the one who told me that the house had come up for rent two doors away. He was the one who wanted to move here. Finally, he thought he knew where he came from and he stopped fretting about who he was.'
By now she had seen my face. My jaw was nagging as it always did when I was tense. I found that my hands were clenched into fists. 'I can almost understand the rest. But why did you agree to move down the road? Didn't you think that you were encouraging him?'
'You're angry and I don't blame you. But be angry with me, not him. Try to understand, love. His own parents didn't want him. He spent his first few years with a man who was cruel, then he lost the first man who ever showed him some love. And on top of that I moved him all this way to a place where he knew no one, and then had the nerve to be surprised when he went a bit wild! Now you understand why I was so happy when he said that I was a good mum. I'm not really sure I have been. This was the only thing he's ever asked me. I made sure I kept a close eye on him, but he never would have said anything to anyone. Definitely not to them. I'm sure that at the back of his mind, he knew that they couldn't have been his real parents.'
I thought of all the times when Kevin had wandered down the road to exchange a few words with my dad's feet as they stuck out from under a car, and of the times that my dad had defended him to my mocking grandmother. Of the occasional nods that we had exchanged in the street, because he would have found anything more embarrassing. Of the way that he had blushed when my mother had rewarded him with a smile. I knew that Lydia was right; he wouldn't have said anything to anyone, least of all to us. He was indulging a private fantasy, nothing more. How could I feel threatened when the objects of that fantasy were gone? It was something else that had died with my parents. Another loss for a boy who had already lost so much.
Thinking that the speech was over, I said, 'It's ironic, really. My dad always wanted a son.'
'Yes, love,' she said dismissively.
'That's not all?' I was aghast. What more could there be?
'Your birth certificate.' She began again softly. My eyes followed the envelope as she retrieved it from her handbag, placed it on the table and pulled a certificate from it. 'Andrea, love, you're not on your own in the world after all. Your parents are alive. And what's more, they're no strangers. In fact, you know them very well.'
I nodded and sighed deeply as I read and confirmed what I already knew. That I am the daughter of Faye Albury, student, and Peter Churcher, solicitor, born in Morden, Surrey.
'You know?' she asked, confused.
'Only just recently. It's been staring me in the face all these years, but it's as they say: sometimes you can't see what's right in front of your nose.'
'Well? What are going to do about it?'
I shrugged. 'I don't know if I'll do anything.'
'But you must!'
'Lydia, the only parents that I have ever known are gone. For whatever reason – and I'm sure that there must have been a good one – my real parents either didn't want me or couldn't look after me. My parents chose not to tell me. And bearing in mind who my real parents are, I can see how awkward that would have been. And very confusing for me too. At least one of them knows exactly who I am and where I am, and hasn't told me even now.' It was more difficult to admit this – and everything that it meant – than I had imagined. Isn't the mother-and-daughter bond supposed to be the closest bond there is? Thinking things and saying them out loud are not the same. Suddenly, it was all too real. I was another lost soul, searching for something to latch on to.
'Oh, you poor lamb.' Lydia cradled me with a heavy arm.
'I've never been that close to Aunty Faye.' I sniffed. 'She always kept her distance. She's very entertaining in small doses and she was a really exciting person to have as an aunt. But she was never exactly what you would call reliable. There's no doubt she would have made a terrible mother.' I tried to smile despite the tears.
'But your Uncle Pete? He's been like a second father to you. He loves the bones of you.'
'I don't think he knows for sure. There are moments when I'm sure he suspects something, but suspecting and being sure enough to risk confronting my aunt?' I sighed. 'They're two completely different things.'
'I think y
ou're right, love.'
'It's not for me to tell him.'
'He might need to hear it more than you think. He's all alone in the world too.'
I shook my head. 'I still need time to get my head around it. For now it's enough that I know.'
'Then it's best I leave you to your thoughts,' Lydia said.
'What did you decide about Kevin's birth certificate in the end?' I called to her as she was putting her coat on in the hall.
She appeared at the kitchen door again. 'Do you know, after all that, I decided to leave it exactly where it is for now. I would feel terrible going behind his back. I'm no good with secrets, me. I wouldn't be able to keep it to myself if there was something I thought he should know.'
'Maybe he'll want to open it now that my parents have gone,' I suggested.
She shrugged. 'Maybe.'
Alone again, I took down the family tree from its place in the hall and stared at it for some time. Then I took it out of its frame and crossed out my own name from the place where it had appeared under my parents' with heavy black lines. Unable to work out how to redraw it, that is how I left it. Our very average, straightforward family had been wiped out. I was not unhappy with the end result. It reflected exactly how I felt. I no longer knew who I was or where I had come from. I was completely lost.
Chapter Thirty-two
It was about that time that Nana started running away from Aunty Faye's and finding her way home to Westbrook Road. The first time she pretended that she had gone shopping and forgotten her way back to the flat, so she gave the cab driver the only address that she could remember. But who goes out shopping with a small suitcase fully packed? The next time she arrived on the doorstep, pinching my cheek and saying, 'Nana's home to take care of you now,' with the ingredients for her famous rhubarb crumble in a carrier bag. I humoured her and let her get on with it, unable to track my aunt down on her mobile and unsure what to do next. Aunty Faye arrived later, flustered and apologetic, insisting that she had only left her mother on her own for a few minutes.
