Losing You (51 page)

‘Of course, I should have gone to see someone years ago,’ Phyllis went on. ‘Actually I did try, around the time you left home. I thought that once there was some actual distance between us I’d be able to see things more clearly, get a better perspective on what Berry was trying to tell me, but looking back I can see now that I was so riddled with guilt over the way I’d been with you, and so unable to imagine a way forward for us that I just couldn’t bring myself to go on trying. I convinced myself that we were a lost cause; that we were never going to get past what I’d
done and that never having a close relationship with you was the price I had to pay for the way I’d been. Then, when Lauren was born, I thought maybe I could try making it up to you through her. I wanted to be the best grandmother, to show you that no matter what, I was going to be there for her whenever you needed me to be. You’re right, I was thrilled when you asked me to be her minder; I knew you wouldn’t have done that unless you trusted me, so I told myself that maybe there was something between us, because it seemed the affection, the love I’d shown Lauren from the day she was born had made an impression on you. I never realised until now that it had made you feel left out, pushed aside. I thought the way you stayed aloof meant that you really didn’t want to have a relationship with me, that you’d rather just carry on going through the motions of being mother and daughter, while I forged a bond with Lauren. I can see now that I misunderstood everything, and I know it’s all my fault, I just wish I knew what to do to make you realise how sorry I am, and how much you really mean to me. I promise you, it’s as much as Lauren means to you ...’ Tears were strangling her voice again, and as she turned around to start busying herself with the tea Emma could see how badly her hands were shaking.

Knowing exactly what Berry and Lauren would want her to do now, and actually wanting to do it herself, she went to stand beside her mother and slipped an arm round her shoulders. ‘Thank you for telling me all that,’ she said softly. ‘I know it can’t have been easy.’

As Phyllis started to break down, Emma pulled her round and wrapped her up tightly in her arms. It felt strange holding her mother, but not so strange that it felt wrong, only new and something that wasn’t so difficult after all.

‘It’s all right,’ she said, tears running down her own cheeks. ‘It’s going to be all right.’

Phyllis tried to speak, but could only nod.

After a while Emma gently eased her towards a chair. ‘Sit down,’ she said, ‘I’ll make the tea.’

‘No, no, don’t worry about me. I know it’s time you were going.’

‘It won’t matter if I’m a few minutes late.’

Phyllis looked at her anxiously, taking the square of kitchen roll Emma was holding out. ‘I’ll be fine, honestly,’ she promised.

‘I know you will, but I don’t want to leave now. With everything you’ve just told me ...’

Accepting that it had to be Emma’s decision, Phyllis sat down and blew her nose. ‘I got some Earl Grey the last time I was in Sainsbury’s,’ she said nasally.

Emma glanced over at her. She’d spotted the tea, but had assumed her mother had bought it for herself.

‘I got it for you,’ Phyllis assured her. ‘I know you like it and I thought ... Well, I know it can be a bit pricey ...’

‘That’s lovely, thanks,’ Emma said, realising with an awful pang how quick she’d been to think badly of her mother.

After making them a large mug each she carried them to the table and sank into the other chair. ‘They say everything comes in threes,’ she said, trying to sound light, ‘even good things, and we seem to have started off well today.’

Phyllis looked baffled.

Emma shrugged. ‘Well, there’s us, and the fact that we’ve just communicated some of our feelings for the first time in years, maybe ever. That has to be good, doesn’t it?’

Phyllis nodded keenly. ‘Yes, of course,’ she agreed.

Emma’s eyes twinkled. ‘And you’ve won the lottery,’ she reminded her.

Phyllis gave a choke of laughter.

‘So I’m wondering what the third thing might be.’

At that Phyllis almost seemed to melt. ‘Oh, Emma, wouldn’t it be wonderful?’ she said, knowing exactly what Emma was thinking.

‘Yes, it would,’ Emma replied, looking down at her tea. Why was she suddenly afraid that fate had brought her and her mother together to make up for taking Lauren away? ‘It really would,’ she whispered, trying hard to banish the fear from her mind.

‘You’re not going to believe this,’ Angie declared as Russ walked into the office in the middle of the afternoon. ‘Three green lights, one straight after the other.’

Though distracted, this immediately grabbed Russ’s attention. ‘Tell me more,’ he demanded, registering Oliver’s empty desk as he went to his own.

‘All three are non-broadcast,’ Angie said, busily forwarding the emails so he could read them himself. ‘Strachan’s Security training video; Beaumont polo club matches for all of the coming season, first fixture or chukka or whatever they call it, April 2
, so that’s where Graham is now, recceing the ground with Lance Fulmer, the director; and Winston’s Oil have only approved the budget for their role-play operations. Haven’t done the sums yet, but if you look out the door I reckon you’ll see that big, bad wolf skulking off down the drive with his tail between his legs.’

Laughing, Russ clicked on to the emails to check the details, while Toyah and Angie danced a little jig, and Toyah’s spaniel, Jack, gave a joyful howl.

‘Is Oliver out with Paul?’ Russ asked, as he began scanning the first confirmation of a proposal he himself had put forward.

‘If he was, he’s not now,’ Toyah answered, glancing out of the window as Charlie’s black Golf pulled up outside. ‘By the way, I’ve got a quote for him to drive his mother’s car. It’s steep, so brace yourself.’

‘Go on,’ Russ murmured as he watched Oliver getting out of the Golf and going into the house.

‘Two thousand seven hundred.’

Russ winced.

‘It’s a Merc,’ Toyah pointed out, ‘and he’s only got two years’ worth of no claims.’

Grateful she hadn’t added ‘for now’, or reminded him that he’d paid for the Polo’s smashed windscreen in order to avoid a claim, he said, ‘Well, he’s adamant he won’t drive his own car again, so I guess, with a premium like that, the only alternative is to part-exchange the Polo for something else.’

Toyah and Angie looked at each other.

‘I know what you’re thinking,’ Russ told them, his eyes back on the screen, ‘shouldn’t we at least wait until we know if he’s going to keep his licence, and of course we will. I’m hoping we’ll have some news on that by the end
of next week. OK, these commissions are definitely signalling an end to our little bad patch – and let’s hope that’s all it was, a patch. Winston’s budget alone should keep us going until August, which isn’t perfect, but we’re in a hell of a lot better place now than we were this morning. So, this is me breathing again, and you, Toyah, breaking out the Tetley’s to celebrate. We’ll wait till Paul and the others are back to crack open something stronger. I think three in one go deserves a sparkling celebration.’

‘Aren’t you staying for tea?’ Toyah protested as he started for the door.

‘I won’t be long,’ he assured her

A few minutes later he found Oliver on his way up the stairs, a sandwich in one hand, a can of Fanta in the other. ‘A bit late for lunch, isn’t it?’ he commented.

‘I didn’t get any, so this is it,’ Oliver replied, clearly annoyed that he hadn’t made it to his room before his father came in.

‘Don’t go any further,’ Russ told him as he started on up the stairs. ‘I want to talk to you.’

Oliver stopped and let his head fall back in frustration. ‘Dad, if you’re going to start on about where I’ve been again ...’

‘That’s exactly what I’m going to do,’ Russ informed him. ‘This is the fourth afternoon in a row you’ve vanished without telling anyone where you’re going or when to expect you back, and frankly I’ve had enough of it. So what the hell are you up to, Oliver? And please don’t start spinning me some story about being with Jerome, or Alfie, because Alfie called here about an hour ago wondering what on earth’s happened to you because neither he nor Jerome have been able to get hold of you for days. Nor has Charlie, he tells me, though I got the feeling when I spoke to him earlier that he knows more about what you’re up to than he’s prepared to let on to me.’

Oliver’s body was rigid with defiance.

‘I don’t understand what the problem is about telling me,’ Russ exclaimed, throwing out his hands. ‘Or do you like me being worried out of my mind, imagining all sorts of things that probably aren’t anything to do with what’s
really going on? Let’s seriously stress Dad out, shall we, is that what you’re thinking? Let’s give him sleepless nights and treat him as though he’s oblivious to what’s going on. Is that what you’re telling yourself? Because if it is, I’ve got news for you, my son ...’

Turning around, and sinking down on the stairs, Oliver put down his Fanta and sandwich and propped his head in his hands. ‘I’m not trying to make you worried,’ he said truthfully, ‘it’s just that I know you won’t understand.’

‘Is that right? Well, why don’t you let me be the judge?’

‘Because I know you’ll think I’m losing it,’ Oliver cried, ‘or say I’m in some sort of post-traumatic stress, and I’m not. I’m just ... It’s something I feel I have to do, actually that I
want
to do, and I’m going to go on doing it whether you like it or not.’

Russ gave it a moment. ‘OK,’ he said levelly, ‘so if your mind’s made up and you’re sure I can’t change it, why not at least do me the favour of putting an end to all the things I’ve got going round in my head and tell me what’s in yours?’

Oliver’s eyes came to his, then went down again. He was so tense now that Russ could feel himself picking up on it.

‘Come on, son, it can’t be that bad, surely.’

‘All right,’ Oliver said in the end, defiance already thickening his voice. ‘I’ve been going to the hospital to see ... to see Lauren.’

It took all Russ’s self-control not to show a reaction. This was so unexpected that right at this moment he genuinely didn’t know which way to go.

‘So come on, let’s have it,’ Oliver challenged sarcastically. ‘I know you’re going to say something about me going off my head, or not thinking straight ...’

‘I’m not going to say anything of the sort,’ Russ interrupted sharply, while still not knowing what he did want to say. ‘But I am wondering ... I mean, it’s just crossing my mind to ask if it’s wise ... Or to wonder what you’re hoping to gain by it.’

Clearly angry, Oliver said, ‘I just want to see her, OK? What’s so bad about that? I’m the one who put her where
she is, so what am I supposed to do, run away and pretend it hasn’t happened?’

Obviously that wasn’t what Russ wanted. Or maybe it was. After all, what was to be gained from Oliver forging a link with a girl whom he didn’t know, and if things didn’t improve, never would, especially when he’d helped to bring about this situation? ‘No, not at all,’ he heard himself saying, ‘but ... Well, you have to think of her family and how they might feel if they knew ...’

‘Her mother does know, and she’s OK about me going.’

Russ was lost for words again. Oliver didn’t sound as though he was lying, but Russ simply couldn’t imagine Lauren Scott’s mother wanting Oliver anywhere near her daughter.

‘You don’t believe me, do you?’ Oliver demanded.

Russ took a breath, only to realise he was lost for words again. In the end, he prevaricated. ‘How does her mother know?’ he asked.

‘She came into the hospital when I was there last week,’ Oliver told him, ‘and we went to get a drink together.’

Wondering how much more stunned he was going to become by this, Russ said, ‘You went to get a drink? With Mrs Scott. So presumably you talked.’

Oliver rolled his eyes.

‘What did you talk about?’

‘What do you think?’ Oliver retorted.

‘The girl. Lauren.’

‘Like yes, and she asked about Mum, and how my case was coming along ... Actually, she was really cool, not a bit like I thought she’d be, or at least not with me.’

Russ took a breath as he tried to shift gears. Somewhere along the line he’d get a better grip on this. ‘So how long have you been going to see her?’ he asked.

‘About three weeks, I guess.’

‘Every day?’

‘Most days.’

‘And what ... what do you do when you’re there?’
Wasn’t the girl in a coma?

‘I take music for her to listen to, and I read stuff from the papers or magazines I think she might be interested
in. They say you should do things like that for people in a coma.’

Russ had heard that, he’d just never expected to encounter it this way. ‘So you’re doing it for her?’

‘That’s what I just said.’

Russ needed more time to adjust, to work out what the heck he really thought, but if he took too long it wasn’t going to sit well with Oliver. ‘So her mother really doesn’t mind,’ he said, hoping this would buy him some time.

Oliver took out his mobile. ‘I’ve got her number here. If you don’t believe me, ring her.’

Russ looked at the phone, but didn’t take it. ‘It’s OK, I don’t need to do that,’ he responded. ‘If you say she’s all right with it, then I guess ... Well, I guess that’s that.’

Oliver regarded him sceptically.

‘Except how long is it going to go on?’ Russ had to ask.

As though he’d seen it coming, Oliver cried, ‘I don’t know. For as long as it takes.’

‘Are you saying, until she comes round?’

Oliver’s jaw tightened as he turned his face away. Clearly he knew it didn’t make much sense, but he wasn’t going to try explaining it.

‘You do realise ...’ Russ began.

‘That it could be years. Of course I do, I’m not stupid.’

‘So are you telling me you’re going to carry on visiting her ...’

Oliver sprang to his feet. ‘See, I told you you wouldn’t understand, and you’re already having a go ...’

‘No, I’m just trying to be clear about what your intentions are,’ Russ assured him. ‘And I know you won’t want to hear this, but you need to find a job ...’