Erin shrugged. ‘I did nothing to warn you. I said it was a summer romance.’
‘What else could you have done?’
Erin inspected the manicured nails of her free hand. ‘Before you were born,’ she said, ‘I was so scared that I wouldn’t be able to love you.’
‘Because of Roy Weaver?’
‘Yes. And I think Averil saw that. I wanted Pamela to have you.’
‘A lot of people rearranged their lives to care for me, didn’t they?’ Tessa squeezed Erin’s arm. ‘Thank you.’
‘I didn’t think I’d ever get over leaving you.’ Erin touched her head to her daughter’s for a single moment. ‘But you see, people do come back,’ she said. ‘And Mitch is going to come home too. I know he is.’
Together they turned away from the water and began the walk back towards Felixham. Even though Tessa had her mobile with her, she couldn’t help quickening her pace as the first houses came into view. The streets around the beach were lively, and she concentrated on threading their way between the holidaymakers, watching out for cars cruising distractedly in search of parking spaces. The markings of a distant police car made her heart stop, and she was aware of Erin grasping her arm, but the car turned a corner, away from them. She heard a shout behind her – ‘Blanco!’ – and a Dalmatian dog lolloped past, trailing its lead.
‘Blanco!’ Tessa turned and recognised Sonia Beeston, red-faced and puffing her way up the promenade. ‘That blasted dog,’ she exclaimed, recognising Tessa in turn. ‘He’s too strong for me.’
Sonia hurried on in pursuit, and Tessa’s gaze automatically followed. The dog ran up to a car – some modern American retro model – parked outside the Seafront B&B and stopped. Coming out of a daze, Tessa realised that Blanco was enthusiastically wagging his tail in greeting in front of a lithe young figure clambering out of the passenger seat.
‘Mitch!’ Tessa screamed. She ran towards him, not caring how roughly she pushed people out of her way.
A woman with short hair that was almost the same aubergine colour as her car appeared from the driver’s side, a big smile on her face.
Tessa almost tripped over the dog, which was jumping up at Mitch, trying to lick his face. Mitch was grinning in delight and fondling the Dalmatian’s ears. Tessa had to be content with reaching out to touch her son’s shoulder.
‘Hi, Mum,’ he said shyly, pushing back the hair that flopped over downcast eyes.
The woman came up behind him as he grabbed Blanco’s lead. ‘You must be Tessa,’ she asked, holding out her hand. Bewildered, Tessa shook it.
‘This is Shirley,’ said Mitch. ‘She brought me home.’ Noticing that Erin hung back at the edge of the group, Mitch acknowledged her politely.
‘From where?’ asked Tessa, still hardly able to believe that Mitch was here, right before her, apparently unscathed. He occupied himself with making Blanco sit before handing the lead to Sonia, who, all agog, seemed reluctant to continue her walk.
‘He stayed with me in London last night,’ Shirley explained. ‘Turned up at my office looking a bit dishevelled. Said he’d been sleeping on a park bench.’
Mitch looked at Tessa apologetically. She held out her arms to him. ‘Come here!’ Mitch submitted to her hug, while she whispered in his ear: ‘I’m so sorry. Please forgive me.’
Mitch met her eyes, nodding. He seemed to find what he needed in hers, for he gave her a friendly smile. ‘Sorry if I scared you,’ he said.
‘Oh, you—!’ Tessa laughed. ‘But where have you been? I don’t understand.’
Mitch looked at Shirley, who once again spoke for him. ‘Mitch came to introduce himself a few weeks ago,’ she said. ‘I’m Shirley Weaver. Your aunt.’
Before Tessa could quite take this in, Hugo appeared beside her. ‘Well, there’s a sight for sore eyes!’
‘Hi, Grandpa,’ Mitch said. He dipped his head, inviting Hugo to ruffle his hair.
Tessa found herself crying, and Hugo, laughing, put his arm around her shoulders and pulled her close. ‘All’s well that ends well.’
‘Where’s Pamela?’ asked Erin. ‘We should go and tell her.’
‘We must call Sam and Lauren too,’ said Hugo.
Tessa turned to Shirley. ‘Will you come in? Please?’ she added, seeing Shirley hesitate.
‘I’d love to, thanks.’
Hugo shepherded everyone indoors. In the hallway, Mitch turned to Tessa. ‘I lost my phone. Has Tamsin called?’
‘Yes. She left her number.’
Mitch’s face went pink. ‘Can I call her now? Do you mind?’
‘Call your dad first.’
‘Ok.’
‘I wrote Tamsin’s number in my day book. It’s on the desk.’
Mitch went into the office and closed the door. Erin, already calling out to Pamela, disappeared downstairs with Hugo. Tessa turned to Shirley. ‘Is Mitch Ok?’ she asked quietly.
Shirley nodded. ‘I think so. I didn’t ask questions, just fed him and washed his clothes.’
‘I can never thank you enough.’
‘I happened to be nearby, that’s all. And he’s a nice kid. You should be proud.’
‘You’d better come and meet the rest of the family.’ And Tessa led the way to the kitchen where Hugo and both her mothers were waiting.
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
My thanks first to Tony Moores not only for reading but also for showing such compassion towards my characters. This story began in my head a long time ago, so some people may have forgotten the help they provided. For my experience of prison visiting, my thanks to everyone at the New Bridge. I would also like to thank Claire Baker, Hanna Bottomley, Elizabeth Buchan, Lisa Cohen, Geoffrey Munn, Angela Neustatter, Merle Nygate, Elaine Randell, Geoff Weston, my wonderful agent Sheila Crowley and the team at Curtis Brown and my equally wonderful editor Jane Wood and all the gang at Quercus. All errors are my own.
BOOK CLUB QUESTIONS
Which of the four mothers in the novel is the bad mother?
Do the fathers in the story influence events as much as the mothers?
Tessa struggles to find a balance between meeting her children’s needs and meeting her own. Does she get it right?
Is it fair for Tessa to blame previous generations for her present predicament?
Given the circumstances, was Averil right to cut Erin off from her daughter?
Would it have been better for Tessa to have been adopted outside the family?
Is Pamela’s guilt helpful?
Should Tessa have been less trusting of her biological father, or was she right to meet him with an open heart?
Do all parents strive to over-correct a previous generation’s errors?
Can any of us escape the influence of our childhoods?
ALSO AVAILABLE FROM ISABELLE GREY
'A generous, moving and well-crafted novel, where food, France and feelings are all tenderly evoked' A N Wilson
Patrick is a loving husband and father, but when his parents come to stay one summer, he is desperate to escape the memories they provoke. Their departure leaves him exhausted and overwhelmed. The last thing he remembers is strapping his baby son into his car seat, ready to drop him off at the child minder on the way to work.
Five years later, in a village in south-west France, an Englishwoman meets a withdrawn man who calls himself Patrice. He has no wife, no child, and he refuses to get inside a car. Leonie is certain that love will heal his emotional wounds, but Patrice cannot escape the ghosts of his past. When Leonie eventually discovers his incomprehensible act of forgetfulness, will she forgive him? And is it ever too late to change?
Available from:
www.amazon.co.uk
www.quercusbooks.co.uk
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Table of Contents
Title Page
Copyright Page
Dedication
Prologue
One
Two
Three
Four
Five
Six
Seven
Eight
Nine
Ten
Eleven
Twelve
Thirteen
Fourteen
Fifteen
Sixteen
Seventeen
Eighteen
Nineteen
Twenty
Twenty-One
Twenty-Two
Twenty-Three
Twenty-Four
Twenty-Five
Twenty-Six
Twenty-Seven
Twenty-Eight
Twenty-Nine
Thirty
Thirty-One
Thirty-Two
Thirty-Three
Thirty-Four
Thirty-Five
Thirty-Six
Thirty-Seven
Thirty-Eight
Thirty-Nine
Forty
Forty-One
Forty-Two
Forty-Three
Forty-Four
Forty-Five
Forty-Six
Forty-Seven
Forty-Eight
Forty-Nine
Fifty
Acknowledgements
Book Club Questions
Also Available
The Bad Mother Page 29
