Another Mother's Life (32 page)

“Mummy, it’s nearly quarter past four, where is everyone?” Gemma asked primly. “Where is Daddy?”

“Well, the thing is, Daddy …” Alison was just about to conjure up some explanation when she heard the front door close.

“Here’s Dom anyway,” she said brightly, winking at the girls and calling out, “Count yourself lucky that you’ve showed up more or less on time, young man. Ten more minutes and your dinner would have been in the … dog. Oh, hello darling.”

Alison masked her surprise with a smile for Marc as he walked into the kitchen and kissed her lightly on the cheek. He’d shaved that morning, and his skin was cool, soft, and smooth against the heat of hers.

They held each other’s gaze for a moment but Marc did not return her smile.

“Daddy!” Amy exclaimed, running to hug him around his legs, accompanied by an equally delighted puppy. “I had the best day today, Daddy. We saw an actual play at the school, actual real people came and did a play and it wasn’t on the TV or anything, and I sat next to Leila Ashley, who is my new friend. She let me eat her carrots at snack, which her mummy grew in the
ground
.”

“Did she, darling?” Marc said, ruffling her hair and sitting her on his knee as the two of them joined Gemma at the table. “Well, it’s great that you two are friends with the Ashley sisters. It’s sort of like history repeating itself, right, Al?”

“I suppose so,” Alison said uneasily, as she peered into the oven where the chicken was roasting. After testing one leg, she took it out of the oven and covered it with foil. Rosie now fixed her unwavering attention on the chicken, making hopeful little whining noises in her throat as she stared at it.

Marc had come to eat dinner at “family time” to make a point, and it was clear what it was.

“What do you mean, Daddy?” Gemma asked Marc as he shifted Amy off of his knee and unbuttoned his shirt collar. “How can the past repeat its self. Is it like Dr. Who?”

“Not like Dr. Who. You know, don’t you,” Marc said to his daughters, “that once, a long time ago, when Mummy was a little girl she used to live in Farmington?”

“Yes,” the girls chorused at once.

“Well, Mummy used to be best friends with Leila and Eloise’s mummy, didn’t you, darling?”

Her back to her family, Alison felt her shoulders tense as she strained her supermarket-bought carrots, tipping the water into the pan to make gravy. There was an edge to Marc’s voice that unnerved her. Perhaps this was it, after a week of lying in wait, now she’d finally find out how he’d deal with the end of her love for him.

“Yes,” she said over her shoulder. “A long time ago now, though. Practically a lifetime.”

“Does Eloise’s mummy know that you are you?” Gemma asked her excitedly. “I bet she’ll be so pleased to see you, Mummy! Then all of us can all be friends and we can all go round to teas and things. Won’t it be great, Mummy?”

“Well,” Alison said. “Maybe, we’ll see.”

“Pleeeaasssse,” Gemma pleaded, which was her stock response to the phrase “We’ll see.”

“The thing is that Mummy and Eloise and Leila’s mummy fell out and they’ve never made up since.”

“Why, Mama?” Leila said. “Didn’t you make up?”

“And why did you fall out?” Gemma asked. “Was it over sharing?”

“Sort of,” Marc said before Alison could answer. “Your mummy and Eloise’s mummy fell out over me.” He grinned and waggled his eyebrows, making the girls giggle.

“Don’t be silly, Daddy,” Amy said. “Mama didn’t even know you when she was little.”

“Well, Mummy wasn’t quite as little as you when she fell out with Eloise’s mum,” Marc explained. Alison shot him a glance across the kitchen as she stirred the gravy, but he ignored her.

“I’m not little, actually,” Gemma interjected primly.

“Or me, I’m not little either,” Amy added. “Much.”

“Well, Mummy was only a little bit older than Dom is now when she met me and fell madly in love with me, and who can blame her?”

“Because you are handsome,” Amy said. “Like the prince in Cinderella.”

“Only fatter,” Gemma added. “And sometimes you can see the skin on the back of your head through your hair.”

“Well, anyway,” Marc said. “The trouble was that Eloise’s mummy had met me first. And she was already in love with me.”

“Ooooooh,” Gemma said, wide-eyed. “What happened?”

“I chose your mummy, of course,” Marc said. “I gave up everything to choose your mummy and Dom, and you two girls, and I worked very, very hard to make you all as happy and as secure as I could.”

“Was Eloise’s mummy sad?” Gemma asked, frowning slightly.

“I think she was sad,” Marc said. “And a bit cross.”

“And are they still not friends even now?” Gemma asked him. “That’s a long time not to be friends. I wasn’t friends with Emily Shawcross once for two weeks at our old school. That was the longest time I’ve ever not been friends with someone.” She looked concerned as a thought suddenly occurred to her.

“Mummy, this doesn’t mean I won’t be able to be friends with Ellie, does it?”

“No, of course not.” Alison looked crossly at Marc, but he only winked at her. Dominic was not here, the food was getting cold,
and Marc was doing his level best to rattle her, for what purpose she could not imagine except to try to exert some power over her. Well, she had some news she knew would shut him up.

“Everything will be fine because I’m going to see Eloise’s mum, and hopefully after we’ve had a good talk about things, we’ll make up.”

“When?” Marc sat up in his chair. “When are you seeing her?”

“Tomorrow,” Alison said. “Amazingly, the one friend I’ve made since we moved here is her next-door neighbor. She’s invited us both to dinner. You don’t mind babysitting, do you?”

“And Catherine’s fine about that?” Marc asked, his brow furrowed.

“Yes, clearly she is, otherwise Kirsty would have told me by now,” Alison replied, smiling at the girls. “So by Sunday morning everything will be straightened out. It will be nice, actually, after all of these years.” She looked at Marc. “After all, I knew her before I knew your dad. I miss her.”

“You can make up, Mama,” Amy suggested.

“And things will go back to how they were before you knew me,” Marc said, his face closed.

“I doubt that very much,” Alison said, keeping her voice light as she watched him.

“Where’s Dom?” Amy said, looking anxiously at the cloud-heavy sky.

“I’m here,” Dom said, sauntering in through the back door, causing Rosie to briefly greet him before returning her attention to the chicken. The smell of stale cigarette smoke drifted in with him, along with a girl who was thin as a blade. A curtain of black hair revealed only one kohl-blackened eye and an ear that had been pierced several times. She seemed to be holding Dominic’s hand, although Alison couldn’t tell conclusively because her sleeve was pulled well past the tips of her fingers, as were his.

“This is Ciara,” Dom announced. “I’ve brought her home for dinner, like you said, Mum.”

Alison pressed her lips together, balancing her irritation with a need to get through this dinner unscathed. Yes, she had told Dominic to bring his friends home, but she had foolishly hoped that he might give her some notice. At least a guest would defuse some of the tension, she hoped. Marc was always at his most charming in front of strangers

“Hello, Ciara,” Alison said, still coming to terms with the sight of her son possibly holding hands with a girl. “How lovely that Dom’s brought you home. Have you told your parents? Would you like me to ring them?”

“I’ve told them, thanks, Mrs. James,” Ciara said, producing a mobile from her pocket and waving it with one fingerless gloved hand. “Thanks very much for having me.”

“My pleasure.” Alison smiled warmly at the girl, who sounded much nicer than she looked. “Gemma, set another place at the table, please.”

“So, Ciara,” Marc smiled at the young girl as she sat down next to Dom. “Do you go to Rock Club too?”

“Yes,” Ciara said, tossing her hair back and revealing quite a pretty face. “I do vocals mainly, but I’m learning to play the bass too because Mr. Ashley says that versatility is key in the industry. You’ve got to have a USP.”

“Everybody needs a USP,” Marc agreed. “Dom loves his guitar, don’t you, Dom? Sometimes he actually sleeps with it.”

Ciara looked at the table and smiled, raising one finely plucked eyebrow.

“I don’t sleep with it,” Dominic said, glowering at his father. “Sometimes I fall asleep playing it, because I’m always playing it. It’s the only fucking thing to do in this shithole of a town.”

Ciara breathed in sharply, this time her eyes wide with awe.

“Dominic.” Alison slammed a pan down, making Rosie start, and stared at her son.

Dominic returned her gaze.

“You never, ever use those words in front of your sisters,” she said, her voice low, noting how Marc was doing nothing. How Marc always did nothing about his son until a situation reached crisis point. “I treat you like an adult when you behave like one. So don’t show off just because you’ve got a friend here. Don’t make me embarrass you.”

“Which words were bad words, Mummy?” Amy asked as Alison set two plates of food in front of Gemma and Amy.

“Never you mind,” Alison said. “I’m sure Ciara doesn’t use that kind of language, do you, Ciara?”

“I don’t, actually,” Ciara said. “I think the use of swearwords demeans and cheapens a person, it makes us look weak and ineffectual.”

Marc laughed out loud, making the girls giggle too.

Dominic sat perfectly still in his chair, his hands on the table, tapping his chipped black nails on the surface.

“So are you two an item, then?” Marc asked Ciara as Alison gave them both a plate of food. Dominic chewed the inside of his cheek furiously.

“We’ve hooked up a few times,” Ciara said quite calmly.

“Young love is so sweet,” Marc said, causing Alison to shoot him a warning glance that he deflected with a shrug. “Well, it is at your age. It’s nice, uncomplicated.”

“We’re not in love, right?” Dom said, looking at Ciara, who merely shrugged in agreement. “Look, Mum, I thought I’d bring a friend home for dinner. I thought you’d like that. I didn’t think she’d get the third degree. From
him
.” He jabbed a nod in the direction of his father.

“I don’t mind, actually,” Ciara told him. “I’m quite good with parents.”

“I mind! It’s none of his business,” Dom said. He got up and went to the fridge. “Do you want a drink?” he asked Ciara.

“Please,” she said. When Dom sat back down he set two bottles of beer in front of him and the girl.

“Cool,” Ciara said, picking hers up and taking a swig straight out of the bottle.

“I don’t think so.” Alison reached over and picked up the bottles. “Look, Ciara, I’m sorry, but we don’t let Dom drink alcohol at home. I know he’s probably trying to impress you, but I’m not sending you home to your mother with beer on your breath. I don’t condone underage drinking.”

“That’s okay, Mrs. James,” Ciara said politely. “Although actually once you’re fifteen you can legally drink in the home, if your parents allow it. My parents let me have a glass of wine with Sunday lunch because they feel that if I’m familiar with alcohol I’m less likely to go overboard and binge on it when I’m unsupervised.”

“Really,” Alison said, sitting back down with a jug of orange juice. “Well, if you’d like to give me your mother’s number, I’ll ring her and ask her if she minds your having a glass of wine with your meal.”

“That’s okay Mrs. James,” Ciara said. “Juice is fine by me.”

Except for the three girls, who fought the tension bravely with chatter, they were silent at the table. Gemma asked Ciara about all of her earrings, and Amy quizzed her on her makeup. Alison was surprisingly grateful for the girl, who fielded her daughters’ questions with good grace and didn’t seem to mind that the boy who had invited her over was silent and sullen. Perhaps that was what she liked about him. Perhaps to her he seemed mysterious and misunderstood.

She was so deep in thought trying to imagine how her son must appear to teenage girls that she was completely unprepared for what happened next.

“This is a fucking joke,” Dominic said under his breath.

It took Alison a second’s delay to register what he had said.

“Dom,” she warned him. “One more word and you’ll go to your room and Ciara will have to go home.”

“Oh, come on, Mum,” Dominic said, shoving his untouched plate away from him. “Admit it. We’re sitting round the table on so-called family night and it means nothing, there’s no family here. It’s a fucking joke and you know it. This isn’t a family, it’s a sham.”

“Dom! Stop it, stop it! Mummy, make him stop,” Amy said, covering her ears, her face crumpling.

“Go to your room, now,” Alison told him, her voice shaking.

“No!” Dominic stood up abruptly, leaning across the table so that his hot breath and spittle collided with her face. “I will not go to my fucking room. Admit it, admit that all of this is bollocks and that this whole family is just one big fucking mess that’s falling to pieces. I won’t move until you tell me that he”—he stabbed a finger at his father—“is a useless, lying, cheating waste of space and we’d all be better off without him!”