No Child of Mine (16 page)

‘As if,’ Maggie responded, with a roll of her eyes.

Enjoying the interaction between them, Alex said, ‘Actually, I saw your car when I visited your sister’s last week ...’

‘... and because she can’t keep anything to herself she told you where I was,’ he came in, ‘along with my name, address, date of birth, profession ... I can hear it now. Anyway, I have to compliment you on an excellent play. I’m very glad I came.’

‘Thank you,’ she responded warmly. ‘We’re having a party across the road at the pub if you’d like to join us.’

‘Oh no, we don’t want to inflict ourselves,’ Maggie replied, ‘and we shouldn’t hog you any more, either. I’m sure everyone wants to talk to you, but I couldn’t leave without saying hello – and well done, obviously.’

‘And thank you,’ Ron added, half crushing her hand again.

‘Just one quick thing,’ Maggie said quietly, turning her back to the others. ‘I don’t suppose you have any news of Oliver.’

Alex shook her head sadly. ‘If he was in my area ...’

‘I know, I know, and I probably shouldn’t have asked, but he was such a sweet little soul. We’ve got a lovely little girl coming to stay from the end of next week, so I expect I’ll fall for her too. It’s a much more difficult business, this fostering, than I’d counted on, but I love it all the same.’

‘It can be very rewarding,’ Alex assured her, ‘but it’s definitely not for the faint-hearted.’
And wouldn’t it be wonderful if we had more like you
, she was thinking. Catching Anthony’s eye she felt herself reddening slightly as she smiled at him. ‘Thanks for coming,’ she said, shaking his hand again. ‘It’s not often we can boast a London lawyer in our midst.’

His expression was wry as he said, ‘Some would consider that a bit of a blessing.’

Laughing as she waved them off, Alex was soon swamped by more hugs and congratulations from Jason’s mother and sister, followed by Mattie’s elderly parents, most of the village and just about everyone from work. She was on such a high that she barely had time to mind that neither Gabby nor Aunt Sheila had thought to send a text before or after the show to find out how it was all going. They’d definitely call tomorrow, she assured herself, and if they didn’t, well, she’d just call them.

‘What’s happened to Heather?’ she asked Jason as he fought his way back to her. ‘Is she still here?’

‘No, I just walked her out. She didn’t want to stay for the party.’

Quietly thrilled, Alex said, ‘Did she say anything about the show?’

‘Not really, but there again I didn’t ask. So who was the chap you were talking to?’

She had to think for a moment. ‘Oh, you mean Maggie Fenn’s brother. I just met him, but Maggie took care of one of my kids for a few days recently. Why, you’re not jealous, are you?’

Eyeing her dangerously, he said, ‘Do I need to be?’

Laughing, she linked his arm to launch the exodus over to the pub. ‘We’re due back here at eleven in the morning to start the big clear-up,’ she told him, ‘but typically of you, you’ve managed to get out of it.’

‘I’ll come in earlier to derig the lights and stuff,’ he assured her. ‘So what are you going to do in the afternoon now that Gabby’s barbecue is off?’

‘Not sure yet,’ she replied, knowing she’d have to think of something, or the come-down after tonight might sink her to a place she wouldn’t much want to be. ‘Are you still planning to stay over at your mother’s?’

Ducking as one of their neighbours came to try and grasp him in a headlock, he said, ‘Yeah, if that’s OK.’

‘Of course it is. I’m just wondering if maybe I should come too.’

He seemed surprised. ‘Do you want to?’ he asked cautiously.

In truth she wasn’t sure that she did. ‘It might be easier, me being with the kids, if your parents are there too,’ she pointed out.

‘But if they start acting up ... I wouldn’t want Mum to have to deal with ...’

‘No, of course not. It was just a thought, and now’s not really the time to discuss it. So let’s leave things as they are,’ and hooking on more tightly to his arm she told herself cheerily that, hangover permitting, she’d manage to find a way of killing a few hours tomorrow that, hopefully, wouldn’t have anything to do with work.

Millie Locke was reclining against a cosy mound of pillows, her glassy blue eyes fixed on nothing, while her trembling right hand fiddled idly with the emergency button at the end of a long cord. Her room in Beech Tree Lodge Care Home was a small, private space that might have been almost cell-like were it not for how gaily Jason had painted it, and the bright daisy curtains Alex had brought from the old lady’s cottage. There was a small loo and washbasin in an en suite cubicle that Millie had to be hoisted to, a TV dominating an ornate chest of drawers that had also come from the cottage, and an elaborate doll’s house with internal lights and minuscule hand-carved furniture that Millie had always taken much pleasure in.

‘Hey Millie,’ Alex said softly as she came through the open door. ‘You’re awake, that’s good.’

Millie frowned, blinked and took a moment to locate where the voice had come from. When she found Alex her tired old face crumpled into a smile that made Alex’s heart swell with affection. No matter what kind of state she found Millie in, and it could change dramatically from one visit to the next, the dear old soul almost never failed to recognise her, even if she couldn’t always quite remember how she knew her.

‘Alex,’ she said huskily. ‘There’s lovely.’

‘How are you?’ Alex smiled, going to perch on the arm of the wingback visitor’s chair. ‘The nurse just told me that you fell out of bed.’

Millie seemed puzzled. ‘Did I? When was that then?’

‘Last night, she said.’ Apparently someone had rung Carol, Millie’s niece, but Alex didn’t imagine Carol was unduly concerned, since Millie hadn’t sustained anything more than a couple of bruises.

Not appearing very interested in her fall either, Millie gazed about for a while, presumably drifting through the wilderness of dementia that was clouding her ageing mind. Alex sometimes wondered if it was her father’s death that had pushed Millie into this next, more debilitating stage of the disease – she’d been absolutely devoted to him, and had often said that the world wouldn’t be worth staying in without him.

Now, having lost the use of her legs, along with the ability to wash herself and go to the bathroom, Millie was almost entirely dependent on the carers and nurses of this home, apart from when Alex came in. Though she wasn’t in any way strong enough to lift or change the old lady, she occasionally helped her to eat if she was there at mealtimes, and wheeled her around the gardens when it was warm enough for her to be outside.

As Millie’s rheumy eyes came back to her, Alex saw that they were starting to dance. ‘My little stick of rock,’ she croaked with a laugh.

Alex laughed too and wanted to hug her frail old bones. Ever since she could remember Millie had called her that, saying it was because she had special stamped all the way through her. In many ways Millie was like the grandmother she’d never had. She’d always been there, in the cottage next door, usually treating the world as the enemy, never seeming to mind who she upset unless it was Alex, or her favourite of all, Douglas. Gabby had never had much time for her, and their mother had never denied she found her a bit of a trial, but for Alex, particularly after she’d learned she was adopted, she’d felt a bit like a kindred spirit. She was an outsider too, who’d been drawn into the warmth of the rector’s heart and embraced as extended family.

‘What time is it?’ Millie asked.

Alex glanced at her watch. ‘Just after three,’ she replied.

Millie nodded, though it didn’t look as though anything
had registered. ‘So have you come to give me my breakfast?’ she wondered.

Alex smiled. ‘Not for the moment. You should be having your tea soon.’

Millie snuffled a little, smacked her gums together and looked down at the two small mounds her feet were making under the crocheted blanket. ‘Where’s your dad?’ she asked, bringing her eyes back to Alex. ‘Is he coming to see me?’

Reaching for her hand, Alex said, ‘He can’t, Millie. He died, don’t you remember? About two years ago.’

Millie scowled, and started to look fussed. ‘Don’t be silly,’ she chided. ‘He was here yesterday. You’re a bad girl to be saying things like that. You’ll never go to heaven if you tell lies.’

Knowing better than to argue, Alex said, ‘Have you been out of bed at all today?’

Millie’s tight little mouth with its fans of deep feathery lines opened and closed a few times before she said, ‘Not yet, no. They don’t get me dressed till after breakfast. I think I’ll have my hair cut today, and a nice perm. Got to keep yourself up together, haven’t you?’

‘Absolutely,’ Alex agreed, wondering when Millie’s white halo of angel fluff had last seen anything stronger than shampoo and a comb. ‘Have you made yourself a boyfriend then?’ she teased.

It took only a moment for Millie to chuckle. ‘Oh no, my courting days is over,’ she said, her head wobbling about in pleasure. ‘But the boy who brings the tea, oh he’s lovely he is. If I was ten years younger he’d be in trouble.’

Alex gave a gurgle of laughter. The boy who came with the tea probably wasn’t even twenty, so quite how old Millie thought she was, was anyone’s guess.

‘Your mother’s dead too, isn’t she?’ Millie stated vaguely after a while.

‘That’s right,’ Alex confirmed.

Millie sat with that for a moment, and Alex wondered what she’d thought of Myra. She’d never said, at least not to Alex, but she must have sensed that Myra wasn’t overly fond of her.

‘I never understood how that woman could have given
up a dear little thing like you,’ Millie rasped softly. ‘Never came back to find you, did she? Funny that. You’d have thought she would, when she left the hospital, you being the only one she had left.’

Alex’s heartbeat was slowing. She’d assumed Millie was talking about Myra when she’d said, ‘Your mother’s dead too,’ but now it didn’t seem so. Did that mean her real mother was dead? Not sure how she’d feel if she found out it was true, she said, ‘Did you – did you ever know my real mother, Millie?’

Millie’s eyes wandered as she shook her head.

‘So how do you know ... What makes you say she’s dead?’

Millie blinked a few times and failed to reply.

‘Millie?’

Several more moments ticked by before Alex realised tears were beading in the old lady’s eyes.

Alarmed, Alex reached for her hand. ‘What is it?’ she urged. ‘Millie, what’s upsetting you?’

Millie’s voice rasped with sadness as she said, ‘I just wants to see your dad and my poor dear mam. She’ll be here in a minute to take me home.’

Imagining Millie’s mother as an angel coming to take her on to the next world, Alex smiled as a lump formed in her throat. There was no point trying to force Millie into seeing or making sense when she no longer had any idea what sense was.

‘No bugger ever thinks about me, except your dad,’ Millie complained as a tear ran down her cheek.

‘And me,’ Alex reminded her.

When Millie looked at her again she seemed surprised and pleased to see her. ‘Alex,’ she said happily. ‘There’s lovely,’ and the visit seemed to start all over again.

Twenty minutes later Alex was sitting at the wheel of her car watching the comings and goings of the home and wondering if Millie had, albeit fleetingly, been talking about her real mother. She rarely allowed herself to think of her these days, it did no good, but if she was dead ... She couldn’t be, Myra or Douglas would have told her.

Wouldn’t they?

And what difference would it make to her if she had died?

She didn’t quite know how to answer that, apart from realising it would make her feel cheated, ridiculously lonely even, and deprived of a dream that she barely ever connected with, but it was there all the same.

Taking out her phone she clicked on Gabby’s number, and inhaled a shuddering breath as she waited for an answer. Gabby would know if it was true.

As the machine picked up at the other end she remembered that Martin and the kids were sick, so leaving a quick message wishing them better and asking Gabby to call when she had a minute, she tried her Aunt Sheila instead. She’d be even more likely than Gabby to know if it were true, given how close she and Myra had been.

Suddenly realising how difficult she might find it if Sheila did confirm the worst, she rang off before the call connected. She had to make sure she was ready to hear it, prepared to cope with the fact that there would never be any sort of fairy-tale ending for her and her mother.

She was trying to make herself think rationally. It wasn’t as if she’d be grieving for someone she knew, she reminded herself. Her mother had never been real in a sense that she remembered. She’d been a figment of her imagination, a dream to hold on to in times of loneliness and confusion, particularly during her teenage years.
Everything’ll be all right once we’re together
, she used to tell herself when she’d first found out her mother was still alive.
She’ll be loving and kind and have a good reason for why she didn’t come to find me before. And anyway it wouldn’t matter what the reason was, because she’d come in the end and at last we would be together, where we belonged
.

She hadn’t realised until now quite how powerful that small voice inside her still was. Over the years she’d kept trying to drown it out with a scornful, angry tirade that berated her mother for returning to a man who’d
massacred her family
, for God’s sake. How weak and pathetic could she be to go running after someone who had caused her so much pain and suffering, who’d inflicted it on others
too and who probably viewed her with nothing but contempt?

But her mother might not be that person. There was nothing to say that she was, no single shred of evidence from the research Alex had done, or veiled suggestion from Myra and Douglas, or even the glimmer of a possibility on the Internet. Nor had anyone, until now, ever hinted that she might be dead. So she really couldn’t take Millie’s word for it, especially when Millie was no longer in her right mind.