‘Not at all. I can’t tell you how comforting it is to have you to share all this with. It’s like having my own personal helpline and legal advisor.’
‘As far as I’m concerned, I’m here for as long as you want me.’
He reaches across to cover my hand with his.
It’s the end of the month before the next enigma distracts my attention. And I don’t know what to think.
It’s James who drops the first bombshell.
‘Mum, did Aaron tell you I’ve been consulting him about Gran’s affairs?’
I stare at him in amazement. ‘No.’ I know they’ve met formally now. I set that up myself. But discussing things behind my back?
‘I like him. And trust him. He’s got a shrewd head on his shoulders and he’s an experienced solicitor. I value his advice.’
‘Well, I’m very glad you like him, but what kind of things d’you need him for?’
‘Legalish things. Nothing for you to worry about. Honestly. You know I wouldn’t do anything that wasn’t in your best interests. Or Gran’s. And neither would Aaron. He’s nutty about you, you know, Mother dear.’
I refuse to be distracted. ‘But we’ve got our own lawyers to sort things out.’
‘Heck! You won’t find anyone more your “own” than Aaron! Don’t you trust him?’
‘Of course I do!’
‘Well, there you are then. I’m feeling my way with some of this and it helps to check things with him.’
‘Is this about the papers and things he’s been sorting in the den?’
‘No. Mostly the stuff we drew up with Gran’s lawyer and the finances.’
‘Well, just remember, James – I don’t want there to be any suggestion of favouritism for me, or for you. We agreed. It must all be perfectly fairly distributed. No preferential treatment.’
‘Absolutely. And having another pair of eyes, another legal brain, somebody who doesn’t stand to gain, helps in that process.’ He grinned at me. ‘Of course, the suspicious minds amongst us might be thinking Mr Wiseman is expecting to benefit at some future date from anything you inherit.’
I stare at him, appalled by the suggestion.
‘I’m teasing you, Mum! Aaron has no intention of capitalising on your assets now or at any time in the future. It’s you he wants, not your millions. Rest assured on that.’
‘But would Adeline or Aunt Beatrice see it that way?’
‘Do they know about this man in your life?’
‘Certainly not! Nor incidentally does Pandora.’
‘Ah. So when d’you intend to tell her?’
‘I don’t know. I think it’ll just happen.’
‘Would you like me to tell her?’
‘No, dear. But thank you. I will tell her. But I don’t think the time’s right yet.’ And I can’t find the words to tell her. ‘I think… Oh James, I’m so worried about her. I think things aren’t right between her and Enrico. She hasn’t said so, not in so many words. But reading between the lines…’
‘And the last thing she needs is hearing her mum is in love and hearing wedding bells, eh?’
‘James!’
‘Well, if you aren’t yet, I’m pretty sure he is!’
I know that’s true, but it can wait. Pandora’s needs come first. We mustn’t do anything – anything – that might precipitate a rash decision. And as long as I don’t ‘interfere’, maybe things will settle down.
That night, when we’ve packed away our tools and we’re back at my house, sitting in the conservatory as the light fades from the garden, drinking hot chocolate, I find myself raising another troubling thought with Aaron.
‘Can I talk to you about dementia? And my mum?’
‘You can talk to me about anything you like. You know that.’
Lewis’ struggle with conversation flashes into my mind. I force it back behind bars.
‘When Mum was first admitted to the home, the doctors asked me what I wanted them to do if she collapsed or became ill and needed resuscitation. I knew she didn’t want her life prolonged. She told me that. So we agreed, no heroics. But she’s not the same person, now. Would she still say the same? What d’you think?’
‘I’d say so. I think it would be more tricky if she was now a totally contented person in her own little world.’
‘Well, she’s certainly not that! She’s a lost soul, but she’s not what I would call a happy one.’
‘So, in what way d’you think the decision might be different today?’
‘Well, she’s no longer aware of the state she’s in, so that, in itself, doesn’t trouble her. My fear is I’d be saying, “Let her go” because I don’t want her to go on like this.’
Aaron watches me steadily, but this time it’s not disconcerting, he’s professional.
‘You want my personal opinion on this?’
‘Please.’
‘Well, an advance directive takes account of exactly this kind of situation. Your mum’s view was, “I don’t want to have my life extended if that life is one of indignity and distress.” She appointed you as her proxy, to represent her best interests once she became mentally unable to state her own opinion. And in my judgement, if that seems right from your perspective too, then that’s a bonus and not something to be suspicious of.’
‘And you’re not saying that to make me feel better?’
He smiles. ‘Now, much as it’s my dearest wish to make you happy, I can think of far more satisfactory ways of doing so than spinning you a half-baked ethical argument. No, I’m telling you what I, in my best legal robes and wig, believe to be the case.’
‘You are very good for my health.’
‘Well, I’m pleased to know that at least!’
When I don’t say more he asks, ‘Is this all properly documented for your mum?’
‘As far as I know, yes. I can’t actually remember if I signed anything specific when she was admitted, but I think I did.’
‘It would be worth checking. Maybe asking for an update to ensure what you want to happen does happen. And if you think I can help with wording or anything, then you have only to ask.’
‘Thank you, Aaron. You’ve been brilliant through all of this. I don’t know how I’d have managed without you.’
‘Being the courageous woman you undoubtedly are, I’m sure you would have soldiered on, but it’s been my privilege to be involved too.’
‘You know, before you came back I often wondered what would have happened if you hadn’t gone away. But I never imagined anything like this.’
‘I was thinking that myself only yesterday, when we were painting. Would we have kept your mum with us and looked after her together? What would that have done to us? And if you’d put her in a home then, would you secretly have blamed me for forcing your hand? But this way… well, from where I sit, things look pretty much as good as they could get.’
‘For me, too. But it could so easily have gone differently. I wanted Mum to get drugs to slow the disease down. I begged for them, from everyone I could contact. But nobody could, or would, get them. If I had managed to convince them, she might still have been with me when you came back.’
‘So I’d have had to wait a bit longer.’
‘I couldn’t have asked you to do that.’
‘And I know you wouldn’t have. But I believe I would have done so,’ he says softly.
For answer I get up and go to sit beside him, resting my head on his shoulder. His arm circles me and his lips move in my hair.
‘I do love you.’ It’s the first time I’ve said it aloud. ‘I don’t deserve your patience but I’m so, so glad you did come back.’
He tightens his embrace.
‘Before I respond to that in an appropriate manner there’s something that’s been nagging at me. When you sent me away last time, I went, I just wasn’t sure how interested you were in me. And I could see that your mum was already beyond your care, but I felt I couldn’t suggest you put her in a home, because it would have l
ooked as if it was for my benefit. I’ve gone over it hundreds of times since, asking myself if I should have insisted you let me help. I’m still not sure, but if I was wrong to walk away, nobody regrets that more than me.’
He turns my face up to his and searches my eyes.
‘It wasn’t your fault,’ I assure him. ‘I was the one who sent you away. And it was only after you’d gone that I started to realise how much you meant to me. But I wouldn’t have wanted you caught up in all of that mess. I’d have felt guilty about ruining your life too.’
His lips on mine chase any lingering doubt from my thoughts.
Much later he says, ‘Sometime soon we must talk about the future – where, when, etc. That will keep until we’ve finished the house and provided for your mum. I know you can’t think beyond that at the moment and I’m not going to press you. But there is one thing I need to check before it’s too late. Would you want me to buy the Bradley Drive house?’
Something lurches in my stomach.
‘Bradley Drive?’
‘Mm. As in the house you grew up in. The house you plan to put on the market in September.’
‘But I need the money for Mother….’
‘I know you do. I’m not suggesting you give it to me. I could just bid higher than anyone else. That is, if you’d want to live there.’
It takes me an age to answer. ‘Aaron, thank you… but no. There’s too much baggage.’
‘Fair enough. If you’re sure.’
A thought strikes me. ‘But perhaps we might keep the table, in case…’
‘We can put anything you fancy keeping into storage meantime. Sensible thinking.’
We sit without speaking for a long moment. My thoughts are spiralling out of control.
Then an idea makes me smile. ‘Imagine the reaction you’d get from Adeline or Aunt Beatrice if you bought the house!’
‘Whoops! Indeed. Suspicions would definitely be aroused.’
‘Oh, that would be nothing new. I’m already a money-grabbing, undutiful daughter in those quarters.’
‘You can’t win, can you, sweetheart? Your sister and aunt think you’re bent on having a riotous life of your own, to hang with everyone else. James and I think you are way too conscientious and dutiful for your own good.’
I frown. ‘Well, I do know my motives aren’t mercenary but I wish you wouldn’t exaggerate my selflessness. I mean it, Aaron. I feel I’m here under false pretences when you say things like that.’
‘As in – here in my arms?’
‘Yes.’
‘Well, as to that, I can give you a thousand reasons why I still want you here in my arms whatever the level of your filial duty.’
But it’s the following evening that the biggest shock turns my already chaotic world completely upside down.
It’s late, but Aaron leaves in the morning, and I want to prolong every minute I can with him.
‘James tells me he’s been consulting you about Mum’s papers.’
‘Mm.’
‘Thank you so much. You know how I hate all that business stuff.’
‘You’re welcome. It’s no big deal.’
‘It’s terribly tempting to leave it all up to you two. But is there anything I ought to know about?’
He’s silent so long I disengage myself from his embrace and look at him directly.
‘Aaron? James said there were papers you found – the ones that he took to the solicitor. What were they about?’
‘Well. I’m not quite sure how to answer the first question, but the second one helps to clarify things.’
‘Meaning?’
‘There is something. Only I wasn’t sure if I should tell you.’
Something cold slithers into my veins.
‘Is it the house? Is it money? Won’t I be able to keep Mum at The Morningside?’
‘No, no. It’s not money.’ He stares at me for a long moment. ‘Actually… it’s confirmation of something I already knew.’ He takes my hand in both his. ‘Jess, darling, this is probably going to come as something of a shock.’
I stare at him. I don’t like the feel of this.
‘Remember when you asked about my mother admiring Doris? Saying how kind and unselfish she was?’ I nod. ‘And I said it was an old story. Long before our time.’ It’s hard to breathe. ‘Well, it did have something to do with you. The thing my mum knew was that…’ He tightens his grip on my fingers.
The pause goes on and on.
‘Doris, she isn’t actually your real mother, Jessica. She adopted you. And I found the documents in the den that confirm that.’
When I can unstaple my tongue I manage, ‘Adopted?’
He nods.
‘But my birth certificate…’
‘Seems to say you’re Doris’ daughter?’
‘No. It doesn’t seem to say that. It does say that!’
‘I guess that fits with what my mother told me. Doris adopted you at birth. She had her name put on your birth certificate. And all before she had any children of her own.’
It can’t be true. There must be some other explanation. But the documents…
‘So, who’s my real mother then?’
He shakes his head. ‘Mum didn’t say. I didn’t ask. But does it matter? Now?’
‘Yes. No. I don’t know. I can’t think straight.’
‘I’m desperately sorry to drop this on you, sweetheart, on top of everything else.’
The ramifications are racing through my head.
‘And my dad…?’ The bottom drops out of my world. Not Dad. Not Dad. Please, don’t let it be true.
He shakes his head. ‘I don’t know.’
‘But he said… he told me… when one of the girls at school said I wasn’t a real Mannering, he said…’
‘He said he was your father?’
‘Well, not exactly.’ What did he say? ‘He said… I took after Mum’s mother.’ I feel sick. ‘He lied.’
Aaron holds me close. I fight the tears.
‘Why didn’t they tell me? Why didn’t anybody say? My uncles, Aunt Beatrice, they all must have known.’
‘Not necessarily. It was wartime. Doris was married, living her own life. It’s perfectly possible nobody else knew.’
A new thought strikes me. ‘What about your mother? Did she know anything else?’
‘If she did, she didn’t tell me.’
‘And the papers don’t say?’
‘No.’
I go round and round searching for answers. There are none. Who am I?
‘Why didn’t you tell me before?’ I say eventually.
‘Well, remember how you said your mum was always searching in the den? I think it was for those papers. She must have vaguely realised there was something important, somewhere – something she didn’t want discovered. So when I found them, I thought, would she want you to know? No. After all, she’d kept this secret all these years. I had no right to ignore her wishes now that she was past instructing me.’
‘But you told James.’
‘No, James doesn’t know. For the same reason. I simply sealed the papers in an envelope and asked him to hand them to Doris’ solicitor. It’s for you to decide if he should know. Or anyone else.’
‘So why did you tell me now?’
‘You asked outright what was in the papers. I couldn’t lie to you. You wouldn’t trust me again. And my first allegiance is to you, not your mother. I don’t have the right to deny you knowledge that concerns you directly. Not when you specifically ask for it.’
‘Thank you, Aaron. Thank you for being so scrupulous.’
‘I hope it was the right thing to do.’
‘It was.’
My whole body is trembling. He wraps me in his jacket and holds me close.
The grandfather clock strikes 2 a.m. before I remember Aaron has a long drive south in the morning.
I start to disengage myself but he tightens his hold.
‘I so don’t want to go. Especially right no
w.’
Chapter 9
PANDORA TELLS ME over the phone in a breathless rush.
‘I’ve left Enrico. I should have done it years ago. But for the sake of the children… We’ve had a trial separation before, but this time it’s for good. And yes, before you ask, it’s because he’s been unfaithful. Again! Some woman in Italy he’s known from childhood. Well, she’s welcome to him. I won’t be taking him back. He says he won’t contest the divorce.’
I want to drop everything and drive across to see her, but Pandora is adamant: she wants to forget it, move on.
‘Things will be easier now it’s out in the open and I’m officially a single parent. I get the house and the contents, he doesn’t want them. He’s going back to Italy, to live with this floozy. He’s promised to provide for Karah and Max – he can afford it – so their lives won’t be disrupted. I told him I won’t have the children upset over this. I want them to go to the same school, have the same friends, carry on as normal. I’ll be fine. Things could be a lot worse. To be honest, Mum, I’m glad it’s over. We’re better off without him.’
Behind the bravado she’s suffering much more than the end of a marriage. Being rejected for another woman will damage her in ways she perhaps hasn’t yet fathomed.
‘Does James know?’
‘No. I haven’t told anyone. Tell him if you like. But I don’t want either of you to come over, sympathising. I mean it, Mum. It’s finished. This is a clean slate. The start of the rest of my life. I’m fine.’
Poor Pandora. Trapped in a cocoon of distorted values. Her own worst enemy.
So what if Doris is not my birth mother? So what if mystery monies have been coming into her account for years? So what if there’s a persistent leak in the conservatory roof at Bradley Drive?
I’ve chosen ‘Gentle Gold’ for the walls out here in the conservatory. It’s warmer than magnolia but I think still bland enough not to be intrusive. Mother would approve.
Mother… curious, when I’m not thinking about it, she’s still just Mother. But knowing she’s not, I have so many questions. Should I ask my uncles? Or Aunt Beatrice? Probably not. No point in disturbing them if they never knew. Should I tell James? I doubt it would make any difference – she’s his pal anyway. And Pandora’s got enough confusion in her life already.
Remember, Remember Page 8
