Nobody in the world knew it bar her and Freddie, but they’d paid this woman called Marjory to come and teach them stuff. How to talk nice, how to be a host at a dinner party, what to do when you’re invited to someone’s house . . . pretty much the A to Z of how to be posh without people noticing and thinking you were stupid. They weren’t thick at all, it was just that where they’d grown up, people didn’t entertain. If it was someone’s birthday, they went to the pub, got smashed, ate chips on the side of the road as a fight inevitably broke out and ended up in someone’s gaff smoking weed and drinking cans. She’d be lying if she said she’d never liked it, though. She enjoyed a good night out with the girls. The lads would be up at the bar and the girls sat at the round tables chatting and having a great laugh. But she detested the fighting, the crude language and the depressing way they’d been shoehorned into a tiny house with far too many mouths to feed. Freddie had taken her far away from all that – much further than she’d imagined. And now her precious twins would never know anything of that world, not ever. This was their world.
Zara came over and took her hand. ‘Mum, I want you to finally meet Lottie’s parents. You’ve known her, like, for ever and I’ve never got to introduce you. But they’re here.’
‘Oh yeah, sure,’ Maia said.
‘I’ll get us a glass of wine,’ Freddie said, heading for the bar.
Maia followed Zara over to where Lottie was standing next to a man who was handsome in the professor kind of way, and a woman who was rake thin and wearing what Maia knew was a Versace wraparound silk dress. She looked stunning.
‘Veronica, Charles, this is my mother, Maia,’ Zara said, giving Maia a gentle push on the back towards them.
‘Delighted to meet you,’ Charles said, and he actually took her hand and kissed it. Maia nearly burst out laughing before she realised he was serious. Lucky Freddie wasn’t there, he would have laughed in his face for sure.
‘Lovely to meet you, Charles,’ she said, concentrating on not letting her accent slip. ‘Lottie is one of my favourite people in the world. We love having her around.’
‘You’ve been so kind, having her to stay so often,’ Veronica said, but her smile wasn’t exactly warm.
‘You look so gorgeous,’ Maia said. ‘I love your dress.’
Veronica reached over to kiss her cheek, and Maia pretty much poked her in the eye with her nose when she swooped around for a second kiss.
‘Oh sorry,’ Maia said, blushing, ‘I always forget the second one.’
Veronica looked amused. Bugger, thought Maia – two grand in Marjorie’s pocket and she still managed to mess up the basics.
‘You look . . . striking,’ Veronica said. ‘That colour certainly announces your presence.’
Maia knew she was being a bitch, but she bit back her anger because she wouldn’t embarrass Lottie and Zara for anything. But this woman was obviously a prize cow, and she just wanted to get away from her.
‘Zara tells me she’s taking up a place in Queen’s University next year. That’s an excellent choice. I did my first MA there. How about you, Maia, where’s your alma mater?’
Maia swallowed. ‘Em, I didn’t attend college, Veronica. But I’ve invested all my time and energy in my twins’ future and I’m so happy it’s paid off.’
‘Well,’ Veronica said with a laugh, ‘steady on, Maia, it’s only Belfast, hardly Ivy League.’
‘Mum!’ Lottie said, looking upset.
Maia put her hand on Lottie’s arm. ‘Don’t worry, Lottie my love, your mum’s only having a little joke. I’m sure she knows that Zara scored eight As and one B and is basically a walking brainbox.’
‘The whole year did well,’ Veronica said, refusing to give Zara her credit.
Maia decided it was time to fight fire with fire.
‘Are you still travelling as much as ever, Veronica?’
‘Oh yes,’ she said, running her fingers through her sleek bob. ‘My life is the complete opposite of a stay-at-home mother like yourself, Maia. As vice CEO I’m hugely busy. I’m on business class constantly. Airport private lounges are basically my second home,’ she said, looking to her husband, who laughed dutifully.
That, thought Maia, is a man who isn’t getting any, and hasn’t been getting any for years. She smiled warmly at him and he winked at her. It gave her a little thrill of satisfaction to know she could have him if she wanted to. Put that in your pipe and smoke it, Veronica.
‘So you probably weren’t there when Lottie and the team won the hockey cup, were you? No? What a shame. It was a fantastic match. And the best after-party ever. We had it at our house and Lottie was a smash-hit at karaoke. She came for the night and stayed for the week. She’s so much part of our family. I think of her as my second daughter. We’re so close.’ She smiled innocently at Veronica. Out of the corner of her eyes, she could see Zara and Lottie stifling a giggle. They knew what she was up to and obviously felt Veronica deserved it.
‘Sounds lovely,’ Veronica said, through gritted teeth. ‘There I am paying thirty thousand a year, and Lottie keeps bunking off to stay off-campus. Marvellous. And karaoke?’ She turned to Lottie. ‘I hope I never hear of you doing something so silly again. It’s beneath you, darling.’
‘I’ll just pop over and say hello to Mr Woods,’ Maia said, turning on her heel and walking off.
She bumped into Freddie and he handed her a glass of white wine. She took it and gulped down half of it.
‘Jesus, go easy, love,’ Freddie said. ‘I don’t want to be carrying you out of here over my shoulder.’
Maia grimaced. ‘I just met the mother from hell. How someone as gorgeous as Lottie came out of her loins, I will never understand.’
Freddie laughed. ‘You’ll have to introduce me. Sounds like the kind of woman I’d enjoy annoying.’
‘I was going to say hello to the principal,’ Maia said. ‘He was over there a moment ago.’
‘Here comes trouble,’ Freddie said.
Zach walked over to them, hand in hand with a tall girl with red hair, long white limbs and a vintage style dress. Maia had never seen her before, and she was immediately intrigued. She looked a bit other-worldly, not remotely like the girls Zach normally went around holding hands with.
‘Hi guys,’ Zach said. ‘This is Delia. I just wanted you to meet her.’
‘Hi Mrs and Mrs Jones,’ the girl said. ‘I’m stoked to meet you. I’ve been asking Zach for ages to take me home for dinner so I could, you know, get to know you.’
‘For ages?’ Maia said. ‘Really?’
The girl nodded enthusiastically. ‘Oh yeah, sure. We’ve been together five months, like, so I felt it was time, but he’s so shy about it.’
Freddie looked at his son. ‘Shy, Zach? You? Why the hell haven’t we met this beautiful girl before now?’
‘Five months!’ Maia couldn’t believe it. She thought her and Zach were close, that he filled her in on his life.
‘Don’t freak out,’ Zach said. ‘I was just enjoying having Delia all to myself.’
Maia instantly felt paranoid. Why didn’t he introduce them – were they not good enough?
‘Are you a boarder, Delia?’ she asked.
Delia nodded again – she was like a happy little puppy. ‘Yeah, like, since first year. My parents live between Monaco, New York, London and Dublin, and they didn’t want me to be raised by the staff, so yeah, I’m like part of the furniture around here.’
Maia felt like crying. That was it, Zach hadn’t wanted Delia to meet his unemployed mother and not posh father. She felt sick. When had it happened that she wasn’t good enough for her own children? And would it just get worse as they moved on into colleges and everything – would they not want to know them?
‘I’m so upset that Zach is going to UCLA,’ Delia said. ‘But I’m going to Columbia, in New York, so we’re hoping to keep our relationship going. I know it’s a flight over to him in California, but we think we can do that a couple of times a month. I’ll ha
ppily use up my allowance on going to see him,’ she said, gazing at Zach adoringly.
‘Why don’t you come for dinner soon, maybe this weekend?’ Maia said.
‘I’d absolutely love to,’ Delia said, looking delighted.
‘Thanks, Mum,’ Zach said and he gave her a peck on the cheek. It placated Maia a bit, but she could feel the worry settle in her stomach. In exactly how many ways was she going to lose her children?
‘Oh, there’s Mr Woods,’ she said, spotting him through the crowd. ‘I just want to thank him. Excuse me.’
She made her way over and tapped the principal’s shoulder. He turned around and smiled at her.
‘Maia, lovely to see you. And you look beautiful, if I may say so.’
‘You certainly may,’ she said, laughing. She’d always liked Mr Woods, he didn’t have a stick up his arse like so many of the others here. ‘I just wanted to say thank you, for educating my two so well, and putting up with them all these years. You’ve been fantastic. They’ll miss you.’
‘You’re very kind,’ he said. ‘But we were the lucky ones. Zara and Zach have been wonderful students. I can’t wait to see what they go on to achieve now. Zach will head off soon, won’t he?’
Maia nodded. ‘Yes, both of them will be gone in the New Year. All new lives. Very exciting.’
‘Well don’t be a stranger, Maia,’ he said, taking her hand. ‘You were fantastic on the fundraising committee and we’d love to have your dynamism to draw on. Can we stay in touch?’
‘Of course,’ Maia said, feeling flattered. They probably just wanted to extract more money from Freddie, but still, she had contributed hugely to the committee, so it was nice to have that noticed.
‘Please take your seats as the ceremony is about to commence.’
The students made their way to the front of the auditorium, so they could easily go up to collect their certificates. Maia and Freddie found seats and Freddie began recording on his iPad.
Maia sat there, feeling numb and cold. She watched her children take their places among these elite and privileged young men and women, and for the first time she wondered if this school had been a good idea. The fact that people like Veronica thought it was wonderful made her feel uneasy. Yes, she wanted her children to be successful and happy, but she didn’t want them to be stuck-up and obnoxious. She felt the lead weight of her grief at their leaving. It was all happening too soon. Zach was going to the US in January, and Zara would head off for a year of travelling before settling to do her degree in Belfast. The house would be empty – and with Freddie being so distant, what would she be left with? Who would she even be if she wasn’t the twins’ mother? That’s all she’d been for eighteen years. That’s all she was. She had nothing else to offer – no skills, no job, no passions, nothing. If she wasn’t a mother, she was nothing at all. The idea made her feel scared and lonely and lost.
Chapter 8
‘HELLO THERE, ARE YOU LOOKING FOR SOMEONE?’ Nancy called out. The young woman she was addressing was sitting on a wall looking very glum.
‘What, me? No, I’m fine.’
Nancy registered the Australian accent. ‘Are you . . . Tasha, by any chance?’
The woman glared at her. ‘What of it?’ she demanded, sounding ready for a fight.
Nancy smiled. ‘I’m Betsy’s neighbour, Nancy. I live over there. You’re Graham’s wife, aren’t you? It’s lovely to meet you.’
Tasha continued to glare at her. ‘And?’
Nancy looked at her in surprise. It was like talking to a truculent teenager, but she looked too old for that lark.
‘And what?’ Nancy retorted. ‘And you’re too high and mighty to be civil to a neighbour?’
Tasha shrugged. ‘I don’t care about this place, or Gray’s mum or her neighbours.’
Nancy frowned. ‘But you’ll take her free and generous hospitality, is that it? Why are you standing out here anyway?’
Tasha nodded in the direction of the house. ‘Baby’s crying. I’ve had enough.’
‘I see,’ Nancy said. ‘Well I’m glad that baby has a grandmother as warm-hearted as Betsy.’
Tasha turned and walked up the driveway to the house without another word. Nancy stared after her, and her heart broke for Betsy and Noel. What a piece of work that young lady was! What the hell had made Graham fall for her? Poor Betsy. Nancy decided to bake her some scones when she got in. Betsy always said Nancy’s were the best scones in the world, and she was sure Betsy would need some cheering up now.
She headed on over to her own house, glad she didn’t have to share her space with Tasha. It seemed unending, when she looked at her friends with children, no matter what their age, that they could turn up on the doorstep looking for shelter. Better off to be on your own than prey to other people’s whims, Nancy thought.
‘Come on, Nelly,’ she said. ‘Let’s get home and light the fire and make a cuppa.’
The evenings were getting dark so quickly now, and the chill in the air was unmistakably winter. Nancy loved getting in and shutting the door behind her and switching on the lamps and lighting the fire. Her house was so cosy, she didn’t mind the weather at all.
She collected her post from the box at the gate on the way in. Bills and brochures, no doubt, the usual pile for the recycling bin. Inside, she put out food for Nelly, then got the fire going in the grate and moved Nelly’s basket to the hearth, just as she liked it. She heated up some soup, cut some bread and brought it in to the table by the fireplace and set herself up nicely. She was reading a good novel, and she savoured the idea of an evening of losing herself in it.
While the soup cooled, she checked through the post. Nothing very interesting, but there was one letter that looked official, with a harp stamped on it. Nancy slid her finger along the gummed flap and pulled it open. When she saw the name at the top, she fell back in the chair like she’d been shot. She sat there, staring at the ceiling, trying to get her breathing back to normal, thinking, no, no, it can’t be. It’s not possible.
Slowly, she picked up the letter again and tried to focus her eyes to read it. It was short and to the point.
Mill Hall Adoption Agency
Dear Miss Smyth,
We have recently been approached by your son, Steve Mannion. He has been working for years to trace you. Some years ago, his adoptive parents told him he was adopted, and that they had found him via the nuns at Lemon Street Magdalene Laundry. He has been researching the available records since then, and he finally made the connection to yourself. He has enjoyed a good life with his adoptive family and bears you no ill-will. If you were willing, he would very much like to meet you. If this is something you feel you are able to do, please contact me at the number/address below and I will set up an appointment.
Best regards,
Alice Fitzsimons
Nancy dropped the letter into her lap and put her face in her hands. She was completely overwhelmed by emotion. Things she hadn’t thought about in years – hadn’t let herself think about – rose up now and fought for her attention. Your son. She had banished that whole episode to the darkest reaches of her mind, convincing herself it was over for ever. How had he found her? And after all these years. It seemed impossible.
The nuns at Lemon Street Magdalene Laundry. Nancy didn’t want to think about those cold bitches again as long as she lived. Even just reading the words on the page made her shudder. The image of the tall, dark building with the heavy wooden front door and lion-head brass knocker rushed back into her mind and she gasped at the pain of the memories. There she was again, standing on the doorstep, with the wind whipping around her knees, forcing her to hold her hat firmly in place. She raised the knocker and let it drop, and when that sound echoed around the draughty building, it signalled the end of her happiness and the beginning of six months of horror.
She had been a girl of just sixteen when it happened. One of the travelling farm labourers employed by her father had taken a shine to her that year. PJ had been com
ing to work the farm every summer since she was seven, so she knew him well, but that year he seemed different. He made comments and jokes she couldn’t quite understand, but the tone of them made her toes curl. He was always looking at her, no matter what she was doing. She started to avoid him, going the long way round so as not to bump into him, but he was a cute one and she was as green as the grass in the fields, so it didn’t take him long to get her on her own.
She had been walking back along the Holly Lane, as they called it, returning after delivering eggs to a neighbour, and there he was, leaning against a gate, pipe stuck in his mouth. He was probably only about thirty, she reckoned now, but to her then he was an old man. So many years had passed, but Nancy still felt tears at the thought of it. He had robbed her youth from her that day, pushing her into the field and down onto the ploughed earth. She didn’t even really know what was happening, just that it hurt. She’d seen the animals go about their baby-making, but she hadn’t fully grasped that it applied to humans as well. They were sheltered times – too sheltered, she thought to herself, that’s how young girls got caught and cornered, because ignorance made them vulnerable.
She shook herself to get rid of that memory. PJ had left her there in the field, warned her not to speak of it. She thought no one would believe nice old PJ was capable of such a thing, so she said nothing. She thought no one would ever know, that she’d just have to live with it in silence. But then her tummy started to bulge and, God love her, she still didn’t understand. She went to her mother and asked her why her belly was fat and hard but the rest of her was the same. Nancy could still remember the colour draining from her mother’s face as she looked down at her. She’d made her strip off her clothes and stand in front of her on a chair. Pulling her down by the arm, she’d smacked Nancy across the face so roughly that she’d ended up on the floor. Blood streamed from her eye where she’d caught it against the chair edge. But that did nothing to deter her mother, who yelled and called her names and told her she was a sinful disgrace.
The Gift of Friends Page 10
