The Baby Group (45 page)

‘You will,' Jack replied. ‘Saturday then.'

It had taken Natalie a lot of effort not to look back as she walked away from Jack and into the throng of people that the hint of spring sunshine had brought out. But walk on she had, until she was sure he wouldn't be able to see her any more. And then she had stopped and turned around and caught a glimpse of what might have been his head vanishing around a corner.

‘Well, the main thing,' she told Freddie staunchly, ‘is that the waiting is finally over.'

Chapter Twenty-eight

Natalie had started so early that morning on her expedition to find Jack that it seemed to her as if it should be about midnight by now. But it was barely gone two in the afternoon by the time she had got home.

Her visit to the office had been heartening. Everybody was pleased to see her and thrilled to meet Freddie. She had arrived just in time to see a walk-through of the collection that they were presenting to buyers in a few days' time, and it had made Natalie so proud that she had cried.

‘It's the hormones,' she said, flapping her hands in front of her eyes before she erupted into full-blown wailing. ‘I'm fine really,' she sobbed. ‘Pay no attention to me, you've all just done such a wonderful job – and without me. I'm gutted!'

Alice hugged her tightly.

‘Let's leave Freddie in the capable hands of ten or so clucky women and go and talk about why you're looking so sad,' she said.

‘You should feel proud,' Alice said as Natalie finished telling her what had happened between her and Jack.

‘Proud?' Natalie asked. ‘But why?'

‘Because you made up your mind, on your own, without any nagging from me to go and see him again. And it must have been so hard for you to put your feelings on the line for your sake and Freddie's. The sort of grown-up, mature thing you'd normally run a mile from if it meant you got to avoid a bit of awkwardness. And it's paid off, not exactly the way you wanted it to work, I know. But you've got Jack in Freddie's life now. Did you ever think a few weeks ago that would be possible? It wouldn't have been, if you hadn't done the right thing.'

‘The thing is,' Natalie said carefully. ‘The thing is that I didn't truly realise until today that I have been waiting for him, for Jack. For all these months I've had this half-arsed but heartfelt belief that he would come back for me and Freddie, and that we were meant to be together. But when he did come back it was by accident and not for me at all. And now there's this big hole inside me where the waiting and the hoping used to be and I don't know how to fill it – perhaps with misery and despair. What do you think?' She smiled weakly at her friend.

Alice looked thoughtful. ‘Do you still, even after everything that's happened, have real feelings for this man? Do you love him?'

‘I think I do,' Natalie said, her voice almost a whisper. ‘Look, I don't know, I can't say for sure because I feel like I've only really started to get to know him now, long after the affair is over. But I know it's something serious and something strong because it lasted through a lot of knock-backs. Whenever I look at him, whenever he touches me, when I think about all he's been through or when I see him smiling at Freddie my heart beasts faster and I can feel the blood in my veins, and every part of me wants to be with every part of him whatever happens.' Natalie's shoulders dropped as a feeling of exhaustion washed over her. ‘I expect that makes me insane.'

Alice laid a comforting palm on her hand. ‘Maybe it's the pregnancy hormones again,' she suggested gently.

‘No,' Natalie said with complete certainty. ‘This time it isn't the hormones.'

‘Then if it's the real thing, if you really think that you love him you have to tell him, for your, Freddie's and his sake,' Alice said.

‘How can I?' Natalie asked her. She held up her hand when Alice opened her mouth. ‘No, Alice, this is not the time for one of your lectures, useful as they often are. His relationship with Freddie is very fragile. It can't take any external pressure, and me throwing myself at him is just that. I can't do anything about it, not now.'

‘But what if you miss your chance again?' Alice asked.

‘I'll learn to live with it,' Natalie replied.

‘You've changed these last few weeks,' Alice told her.

‘Maybe I
have
changed,' Natalie said. ‘Maybe Freddie has changed me for the better.'

‘Just as long as you remember that the old you wasn't all bad.' Alice put an arm around her shoulder. ‘Hey, you know what this means. Now you're going to have regular babysitting you and I can go out on the pull.'

‘Mmmm,' Natalie said without enthusiasm. ‘Nice idea, but I don't think I'll be ready to go on the pull for quite some time yet.'

‘Who was talking about you?' Alice said.

When Natalie got home not only was Sandy awake and sober, but she had cleaned the house as well.

Natalie found her in the kitchen, washed and dressed and cooking. She looked up and smiled at Natalie as she entered the room.

‘Hello, dear,' she said.

‘What have you done with my real mother?' Natalie asked warily.

Sandy put her wooden spoon down on the counter and took a breath.

‘I'm so sorry about yesterday, Natalie,' she said. ‘I can't believe what happened. I'm so embarrassed and ashamed of myself and I just want to say that I'm sorry.'

Natalie did not move.

‘Seriously, where is she? Have you abducted her into outer space for extensive tests on her liver?' she said, straight-faced.

‘Please, Natalie, I'm trying to be serious.'

Natalie sat down at the breakfast bar and looked at her mum.

‘Good,' she said. ‘I'm glad you're being serious. Because this is serious, Mother.' She steeled herself to say what she knew she must. It was a relatively new talent, being able to face up to reality, and she thought she was getting quite good at it. ‘Mum, you're an alcoholic.'

‘No, I'm not, dear,' her mum said, shaking her head.

Denial. Natalie had read on the Internet that denial was very common in alcoholics.

‘That proves it,' she said. ‘You don't think you're an alcoholic when you drink at every single opportunity, to the point where you can't move or speak. Mum?' Natalie exclaimed with frustration. ‘Come on, take a look at your life, take a look at what's happening to you!'

‘You don't understand, I don't drink like that . . .' Sandy began.

‘Um, excuse me,' Natalie cut in emphatically. ‘I know what I see with my own eyes. Like you passed out with your head practically in the toilet.'

‘I don't drink like that
normally
,' Sandy continued. ‘I mean, back in Spain I have a glass or two in the evening, like I always have. I like a drink now and then. But I don't
normally
drink so much that I'm ill. It was just when I got here that I started.' Sandy finished speaking with a little shrug and a shake of her head as if she didn't really understand it herself, let alone expect anyone else to.

‘Pardon?' Natalie asked her, unable to comprehend what her mother was telling her. ‘Are you saying that once you arrived in the home of your daughter supposedly to help with the care of your grandson, you thought you'd just drink yourself to death instead?' She shook her head. ‘Obviously, what was I thinking? It all makes perfect sense to me now.'

Sandy took the lid of off the pan she was standing over and a waft of coq au vin lifted into the room.

‘Did you find my wine?' Natalie asked her, frowning deeply. ‘Because breaking and entering is a serious offence and the sort of thing an
alcoholic
does.'

‘No, don't worry,' Sandy said with a sigh. ‘I didn't break into the coal shed and steal your best Bordeaux. I bought some cheap stuff at the corner shop.' She held up the still half-full bottle and shook it. ‘See, I haven't drunk any. I am not an alcoholic.'

‘That proves nothing,' Natalie said, slightly peeved that her plan to prevent Sandy from drinking had such a large and clearly visible hole in it as the corner shop.

Sandy stirred the stew and returned its lid before turning down the heat and sitting next to Natalie.

‘I don't like living in Spain,' she told her.

Natalie huffed out a sigh and rolled her eyes at this irrelevance, like a teenager who was desperate to be anywhere else but there.

‘I mean, I like the warmth and the people, and my neighbours are good fun. There's this chap over the way, Keith Macbride, a Scottish fellow. Widower. Sometimes we have a drink together and do the Latin-American dance class on a Thursday evening. He's the one that's been watering my plants,' she added tentatively.

‘You said it was a woman!' Natalie exclaimed.

‘No, I said it was a neighbour, and anyway I didn't want you to think that I'd lined you up with another uncle. I know how much you hate uncles. Keith is . . . he's a comfort and I care about him.'

‘So why haven't you pounced and drained him of his life force?' Natalie asked her mildly.

‘I told him I couldn't be happy there with him, not the way things are with you so far away.'

‘Oh God, you want to come and live here, don't you,' Natalie said, her voice heavy with dread.

Sandy shook her head. ‘I'd like living in Spain, entering the ladies' golf drive and things like that, and I even think I could be happy with Keith if I could only know that things were right between you and me.'

Natalie was stunned. It hadn't occurred to her that the state of their relationship might trouble Sandy as much as it did her.

‘A year I waited to hear from you, Natalie, a whole year without even a phone call.'

‘You have fingers too, you know,' Natalie said defensively. ‘Very useful for dialling telephone numbers. I might have been waiting for a year for
you
to phone
me
. Did you ever think of
that
?'

‘Yes I did and I did phone, but you were very hard to get hold of, especially during your trip to China! Be honest, Natalie, you didn't want to speak to me at all, did you?'

‘No, Mum.' Natalie's snap back was reflexive. ‘I was a bit busy being pregnant by a man I've managed to fall in love with without ever really knowing him who I didn't see again after he impregnated me until a few days ago when I discovered he'd had testicular cancer. I have been a tad preoccupied with my own life. I
do
apologise.'

‘The night you came back and Freddie weed in my face,' Sandy confirmed with a nod of her head.

‘Yes, that night,' Natalie replied wearily, the fatigue of the day threatening to overcome her at any minute.

‘And you don't want to talk about it to me, I suppose?' Sandy asked her.

Natalie's shoulders slumped and she dropped her forehead into her hands. ‘What's the point of talking about it to anyone? I could talk about it for hours and hours and nothing would change. He wants to know Freddie and be his dad. That's the main thing,' she said, hoping she had made it clear that she just couldn't discuss it any further.

Sandy reached out a hand and rubbed Natalie's forearm a couple of times.

‘OK then, I'll talk to you,' she said.

‘Mum . . .' Natalie began to protest.

‘No, just listen,' Sandy said. ‘Just listen.' She paused and moistened her lips before beginning to talk. ‘You have this memory of a childhood and somehow it's completely different to the one that I have. And I wonder how can that possibly be? We used to be best friends, Natalie, right from when you were a little girl. We'd make each other laugh so much, every day. Every place we went to was a new adventure. I was so proud of you, my curly-headed little girl, always so clever and full of smiles. Moonbeam, that's what I called you. And you always told me I was the best and most beautiful mother in all the world, every single day.' Sandy paused again, the smile of recollection fading on her lips. ‘Then you got older and you got angry with me and you've never stopped being angry with me. And I don't know why, I don't know what changed except that I find myself feeling angry with
you
. When I'm around you I become this woman that you think I am, the woman I sometimes am – this loud obnoxious drunk, selfish and self-centred. Because when you hate me, when you're cross with me then at least you are looking at me. At least then I have your attention.'

Natalie lifted her head from her hands and looked at Sandy.

‘Are you saying that you started drinking when you got here to get my attention?' She asked her mother incredulously.

Sandy shrugged. ‘I'm trying to understand the way things are between us. I'm trying to work out why we make it so difficult to get on with each other. Look, I like a drink, Natalie, probably one too many here and there. And when I got here and saw you it slipped out of control, but I didn't plan it. It just happened.'

‘Like throwing yourself at Gary, or was that attention-seeking too? Because you didn't seem to be thinking about Keith Macthingy very much then.'

‘I was just having a bit of fun,' Sandy said. ‘And anyway you threw yourself at him too, you have to admit he is pretty dishy.'

‘Dishy,' Natalie said sharply. ‘Dishy. That's sums it up, Mum. You're stuck in a time warp that is twenty years old. I can't believe this. I can't believe that my own mother pulled the tactics of a teenager on me to get me to notice her.'

‘Didn't you hear me?' Sandy's voice rose as she tried to explain. ‘I didn't plan it. On my way here I couldn't wait to see you, I couldn't wait for you to need me. I thought you'd want my help and advice. I thought we'd talk and get closer again. Like we used to. But you didn't need me, you only seemed put out that I was here at all.'