‘Well, it’s good to talk to you now.’ Claire yawned and stretched, and Tess did the same. ‘Although the circumstances aren’t ideal.’
‘No,’ said Tess soberly. She yawned again, and pushed the greaseproof paper that had held her sandwich away from her. ‘I suppose I’d better go to bed. We’ll know more tomorrow and we need to decide then what’s going to happen.’
‘If we go home early, you mean?’ Liz said, kneeling up.
‘It’s up to you all, really,’ said Tess. ‘We’re leaving on Monday, it’s three more days. I need to talk to the insurance company about what people can do if they want to go back tomorrow.’
The two girls nodded. ‘And how you get her home.’ Claire stood up, gathering the paper and bottles together.
‘What?’ Tess was momentarily distracted, looking out across the rooftops, the starry sky, listening to the faint sound of ambulances racing along the main road next to the Tiber.
‘Her. Leonora Mortmain. How you get her home. You’re in charge,’ Liz said, patting her on the shoulder.
‘I am.’ Tess nodded, and a chill ran through her again. ‘Yes. I guess they’ll tell me tomorrow, and then I’ll have to decide what to do next.’
But as it turned out, she didn’t need to make the decision. It was taken out of her hands.
By nine thirty the next morning, Tess was long up, showered and dressed. She had had breakfast and was due to go with Jan, Andrea and Ron to the hospital, to hear how Leonora had been during the night: she supposed that meant whether she had survived the night. Tess was just gathering her things together in her bedroom, as the morning sunshine played in the trees outside her window. The birds sang, almost raucously. She hummed to herself, trying to buoy herself up, as the sound of a car blocked out the birdsong for a moment. A car door opened, then slammed. Surely, she told herself, if she was dead, they’d have called her, Tess, already? They wouldn’t wait for her to get to the hospital? Perhaps it was good news—if that was good news, for someone in that situation—she didn’t know.
She went over to the window, shutting it. The car outside drove away and she heard footsteps up the stairs. It was quiet again. Tess looked for the birds in the trees, but she couldn’t see them. Picking up her keys and her bag, she shut the door behind her and went downstairs. She was the first person there.
‘Typical,’ she said, out loud. ‘If I don’t boss them around, they just don’t—’
But then the front door creaked open, and a man with a bag slung over his shoulder walked in.
He stopped dead in his tracks when he saw her.
‘Tess,’ he said. She stared at him, at this tall, strangely familiar man, shaking her head, and then she realized who it was. As if she was seeing him for the first time in her adult life. Her mouth fell open.
‘Adam?’ she said, her heart beating in her throat. ‘Adam, what the hell are you doing here?’
‘Tess. My dear.’ Adam smiled, with his mouth and not his eyes. ‘It’s wonderful to see you.’ He stared at her bleakly, his expression unreadable. He was a man, she thought, a grown-up, how had she not seen it before?
Behind her, someone said, ‘Ah, you’re here.’
Behind Tess, Diana came down the stairs quickly, and hugged him. She clutched his arm, her mouth set, and Tess could see, through her astonishment, that she was trying not to cry.
‘Why—what’s going on?’ Tess said. ‘Adam—what are you doing here?’
‘He’s the next of kin,’ Diana said softly. ‘He’s the one you were looking for.’
Adam spoke then. ‘It’s true, Tess.’ His low voice echoed in the polished hall, but he was speaking only to her.
She shook her head. ‘I don’t understand—’
He interrupted her. ‘There’s something you need to know,’ he said. He cleared his throat.
‘The one I was—the one I was looking for?’ Tess said, parroting Diana’s words. She shook her head and turned back to Adam.
He nodded slowly.
‘Look. There’s something I’ve never told you, Tess.’
‘What?’ Tess said, moving towards him. ‘Adam, what is it?’
‘Tess—she’s my grandmother.’
‘Who is?’ Tess said stupidly, though deep down she knew what he was going to say, knew it because she should always have seen it.
She looked up at him then, into his face, to find the expression in his eyes did not match the cool indifference of his voice as he said, ‘Leonora Mortmain is. She’s—yes, she’s my grandmother.’
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
There was silence in the lobby, cloaking them all. Tess stared at him, shaking her head again.
‘What?’ she said eventually.
‘I’m her grandson. Her only relative. As it turns out.’ He smiled tiredly.
‘How long? I—I mean, when did you find out?’
‘When Mum died,’ Adam said. ‘She was her—mother. Is her mother.’
‘Leonora? Mortmain?’ said Tess, in utter disbelief. ‘Adam—are you sure?’
‘Yes,’ he said, smiling at that. ‘I’m afraid I am sure.’
He put his bag down on the floor, and rubbed his face with his hands.
‘But when—? Leonora had a child?’
From between his fingers Adam spoke. ‘It’s a long story. Can we talk about it later?’
‘Good idea,’ said Diana, as Tess gaped at her. ‘You must be exhausted, Adam. When did the flight leave?’
‘Just after six,’ he said. ‘I went to Heathrow last night and slept on a bench in the lounge. It was the first flight I could get.’
‘Did you get any sleep?’
‘A little bit,’ he said, squeezing her hand. ‘Right, so—’
Jan appeared at that moment, fiddling with the belt on her cardigan, with Ron behind her.
‘Oh, hello there, Adam,’ she said, without any surprise. ‘Thank goodness you’re here. You got a flight OK? Oh, this stupid bag, it won’t do up. Ron, where’s Andrea?’
‘I told her,’ Diana said, whispering loudly at Adam, as if Jan weren’t there. ‘Sorry.’
‘People are going to have to know.’ Adam shrugged his shoulders. ‘She can’t keep it a secret now, surely.’
‘Hello, Adam, mate,’ Ron said, staring at him. ‘What you doing here?’
‘It’s a long story,’ Adam said, bobbing his head slightly, his lips tight together. ‘You all right?’
‘Yes, pretty good, but this is a bit of a shocker, isn’t it? When d’you get in then?’
‘Just now,’ said Adam. ‘Oh, hello, Andrea.’
Andrea bustled down the last flight of stairs. ‘Adam Smith? Is that you? What are you doing here?’
Tess did not move. She didn’t know what to do, what to say. Perhaps it was the repetitive questions, perhaps it was the shock, perhaps it was realizing that Smith wasn’t his surname at all, most likely, and that that was the very least of it all, what his name was.
‘You’ll need to check in,’ she said to Adam. ‘Um—you’re coming to the hospital with us, right?’
‘I suppose so,’ he said. ‘Yes, I am.’
She didn’t know him, she realized, this stranger. He was a stranger, that was it. He wasn’t the Adam she’d grown up with, he was someone else. He had been, these last ten years, only she’d been too blind to see it. She pushed aside thoughts of the last time she’d seen him, of his lips on hers, how it had felt like some kind of homecoming to her. But she didn’t know him at all. All this time, carrying that around with him…She stared up at him and smiled quickly, as if to tell him it was going to be OK, but he just looked blankly back at her and she backed away, as if he had bared his teeth.
Tess hugged the folder containing all her information to her, like a shield. ‘Well, I can explain on the way. Dump your bags. I’ll wait outside, guys.’ She turned and walked out, pulling the door to behind her, and out on the step she breathed in deeply, drawing the morning air into her lungs, though it was painful and her
chest felt constricted, as if something were sitting on it.
Adam—sweet, slightly useless Adam, her oldest friend, her companion through most of her life—he was someone completely different. Things that didn’t add up now started to creep afresh into her head—how he had lived on next to nothing all these years, why he wouldn’t move away, his curious, almost cultivated diffidence, indifference to life. His generosity, his bouts of silence, of self-loathing. He had paid for the abortion and never told her where the money was from. The memory flew back to her now, out of nowhere, and Tess looked up to the spotless blue sky and put her fist at the base of her throat, as if trying to move whatever it was that was sitting there, making it so hard to breath. Events, ideas, stories, all of them started to flow through her mind, around and around, like a carouse, and she could feel her breathing getting deeper and more rapid…
Enough. Now was not the time. The door opened again.
‘You all right, Tess?’
‘Of course,’ Tess said.
‘They should be out in a moment. Adam’s just leaving his things.’ Diana Sayers cleared her throat briskly, and slung her sensible brown handbag over her shoulder. Tess stared at her.
‘How long have you known?’ she said, turning away from her again and staring up at the sun, trying to keep her voice casual. ‘About Adam. And Philippa?’
‘Ah,’ said Diana. ‘Always known. I mean, Philippa told me a couple of years after she moved to Langford. We were very close, you know.’ Her voice trembled and she gripped the clasp on her bag, as if for support. ‘All this—it just makes me think of her, all alone. How she was so—so much better than most other people. She was my—’ She swallowed back tears. ‘She was my best friend.’
‘What happened?’
‘When?’
Tess’s mind was racing. ‘How did she have a baby?’
‘Mrs Mortmain? I don’t think anyone knows.’ Diana blew her nose. ‘She never told Philippa, that’s for sure. Philippa came to Langford looking for her, just as soon as she was told who her mother was. She was eight months’ pregnant. She was desperate. And Leonora Mortmain refused to have anything to do with her.’ She nodded, correcting herself. ‘That’s not fair. She gave her the cottage. But it was right at the other end of town, and she told her she had to keep it a secret. That she didn’t want anything to do with her.’
‘But—but why?’ Tess said.
Diana’s severe features creased into a smile. ‘I don’t know, Tess! She was—she is—a pretty difficult woman.’
‘So she never told—’
Diana interrupted. ‘Philippa told me, I think that’s it.’ She said suddenly, as though blurting it out, ‘You don’t know how hard it’s been, not telling anyone all these years. Knowing how that woman treated her.’
There was so much Tess wanted to know, to ask, but she just said, ‘Oh, Diana, I’m so sorry.’
Diana sniffed. ‘I’m fine.’ She rooted around in her handbag, inelegantly blowing her nose on an ancient tissue. ‘It’s Adam who’s not going to be fine. Right,’ she said, looking at Tess, as if aware suddenly of who she was.’ Are we off?’
The door opened and Jan stepped out, peering over her prescription sunglasses at the pair of them. ‘Oh, hello. Diana? Shall we go?’
‘Where’s Adam?’
‘I’m here,’ said Adam, opening the door wider still. He looked up at the cloudless sky, then at Diana and at Tess. He was holding some papers; they rustled as he clenched them in his fist. ‘Shall we go?’ he said.
Tess realized he was talking to her, and that she was the one in charge. She said, ‘Yes, good idea. We can walk, it’s only five minutes or so. Let’s go.’
‘Want us to come?’ said Andrea, who had appeared behind them.
‘No, thanks,’ said Tess, looking at her white face. ‘Don’t worry, Andrea. We’ll be back soon. Why don’t you and Ron go and get a coffee in the square. Tell the others where we’ve gone, will you?’
‘Right, let’s be off,’ said Jan, bobbing on the balls of her feet. ‘Sooner we go…and all that.’
Adam stared at her. ‘We’ll be fine, just the three of us, I think, thanks, Jan,’ he said, and Jan stepped back, against the tree, as if she’d just been put on the naughty step.
‘Oh,’ she said. ‘Oh, right then. Adam.’
‘Did you bring the papers?’ Diana said in a low voice, as they turned down a cobbled pedestrian street. Ahead of them, an old woman threw a bucket of water over the stones, whistling as she went back inside. Tess watched her.
‘I did,’ said Adam. He was walking more quickly than them, Tess noticed, as if he wanted to set a faster pace. ‘I don’t really know—I bought some ID. My birth certificate, too. In case we need to arrange—sign something—oh, God, I don’t know.’
Diana patted his arm. ‘S’OK, Adam,’ she said slowly. ‘It’s going to be OK.’
‘It’s not,’ Adam said, as if Tess weren’t there. ‘And now it’s out, and everyone will know—’
‘They had to know sometime,’ Diana said. She glanced across at Tess. ‘People had to know. Leonora was always going to die at some point, Adam my dear. So perhaps—’
‘She’s not dead,’ Adam said shortly.
He pulled slightly ahead of Diana, who fell back into line with Tess. Diana said nothing and they continued in silence until they reached the end of the road, where Adam paused. Tess was so in thrall to his leadership that she didn’t understand why, until she remembered she was supposed to be showing him the way.
‘We cross the bridge here,’ she said. ‘It’s on that island, in the middle of the river.’
‘Wow,’ said Adam, gazing across at the hospital, and then up at the rest of the city, as the river wound away from them and the white marble and black trees shimmered in the heat. ‘It’s beautiful, isn’t it.’ He sighed. ‘Oh, God. This is fucking strange.’
Tess put her hand on his shoulder, but he moved away again and walked off.
Stumbling slightly as they turned in to the hospital, Tess looked sideways at Adam, knowing she had to be a friend to him, more so than ever, but totally at a loss as to how to do it. Her phone buzzed, and she reached into her bag to get it, knowing she should turn it off before they went inside. It was from Peter.
Thinking of you. Hope it’s OK. I have something to ask you this morning, come and see me or I’ll call you later. P xx
Dr Veltroni was on duty again, thankfully. She shook Adam’s hand seriously, and said, in her beautifully low, slightly hesitant voice, ‘Sir, you are the next of kin?’
‘Yes,’ said Adam. He nodded. ‘I am her grandson.’
‘You must sign these papers, here.’ She waved a hand to the reception desk behind them, where Italian bureaucracy had free rein. ‘But first you will want to see your grandmother, yes.’
‘Yes,’ said Adam, shaking his head; Tess wondered if he realized he was doing it. Dr Veltroni looked at him curiously for a second, then at Tess, and at Diana.
‘She is not very good this morning, I am sorry. We do not see any change in the patient. So—I’m afraid we must discuss these options, when you have seen her. Mr—’ She held out her hand politely.
‘Smith,’ said Adam. ‘It’s Smith.’
‘Mr Smith. I do not think your grandmother will recover. As I said to this young lady and the young man yesterday, we know more this morning.’
Adam turned to Tess, his eyes narrowing, and opened his mouth, then closed it, shook his head and turned back. Dr Veltroni went on, ‘You have to decide some things, we must discuss some things, about whether she will stay here or you will take her back to England. I am sorry. This is my truth.’
Adam nodded again and Tess clutched the back of the chair she was next to. Diana cleared her throat and said, ‘Excuse me, doctor. Does that mean—she’s going to die?’
‘Of course,’ said Dr Veltroni. ‘Because she is old, firstly. Because she has had a big stroke, second. And so she will be in this state—’ her long fi
ngers sliced a flat line through the air—‘now, and I am sorry. She will not get better.’
There was a silence. Dr Veltroni looked expectantly at Adam. He shrugged his shoulders blankly and looked at Diana.
‘I’d better go and see her, then.’
Tess waited outside while he went in; she felt it was best if he saw her alone. She and Diana sat in the corridor, the air close, the whirr of a ceiling fan and a buzzing fly the only two sounds. They didn’t say anything, they were waiting. When Adam came out of the tiny room after a few minutes, he was talking to Dr Veltroni and his expression was unreadable.
‘So I’ll call up the hospice back at home and see. And then let you know.’
She nodded. ‘But it is your decision, of course, Mr Smith.’
Diana and Tess stood up as they approached; Tess raised her eyebrows, questioningly, at Adam. He said, ‘We’re just discussing what to do next. She can stay here, or she can come home. There’s some responsiveness, so they need to make sure she’s given the right care.’
‘You mean there’s a chance—’ Tess said, but he interrupted her.
‘I don’t know. I need to think about what’s going to be easiest. For us, for this good hospital here that has too few beds. For the hospital back home.’
There was a terrible silence. Diana broke it by saying, ‘Adam, she’s your grandmother.’
‘She’s not,’ Adam said lightly. ‘Grandmother isn’t the right word for it. I’m her next of kin.’ He looked up at the ceiling and breathed in and then out, as if he was trying his hardest to maintain his composure. ‘I need to do the right thing. For her, but mostly for Mum. Dammit. And then it’s over. Doctor—can you show me the forms to sign?’
He turned his back on them and went into the office. Tess looked at her watch. It was not yet midday.
They waited for him, shuffling and silent on the hard wooden bench. When Adam emerged ten minutes later, Tess said, ‘What do you want to do now?’
She wanted to see Peter—the thought of falling into his arms, of feeling his warm, comforting body against hers, his hands stroking her hair, was incredibly tempting. Peter would know what to do. They were all strangers in this foreign land, at the mercy of receptionists, waiters, doctors, policemen. He was part of the city, he knew the streets, he was at home here and though she had met him—was it really only five days ago? She smiled at the thought—she knew him. Knew him better than she knew Adam, it turned out. Was that really true?
I Remember You Page 26
