The Glass Bird Girl (21 page)

Edie listened, spellbound. No one had ever before spoken openly to her about her mother's life.

‘Everything changed the year we both turned thirty,' Miss Fotheringay went on. ‘Anna was in Moscow, covering a story, and we were in touch often. But then her emails stopped. I had no idea what she was doing, and feared it was something dangerous. A month later, she called to say she was coming home. I went to the airport to meet her and that was when I met Michael for the first time.'

Edie detected a stiffening in Miss Fotheringay's manner at the mention of her father's name.

‘I guessed at once that he and Anna were together, though she didn't say so. I felt hostile to him – I could see he was a risk-taker, and I knew he would lead Anna into danger. They spoke to each other in Russian – or maybe it was Polish – and then he melted away. She said that he was a journalist, based in Moscow, but that he had come over to see his Polish mother, who lived in London. I wasn't interested in any of that – I was just relieved to see that she was safe. And I'd missed my friend, of course.

‘Anna discovered she was pregnant about a week after
coming home. I was happy for her – she had always wanted children. But I was worried too. I knew Michael wouldn't be able to look after her and a baby. She was annoyed by my questions, said she didn't need looking after, but I think she was more anxious than she let on. She couldn't get hold of Michael – he was off on some job – so she turned to me. I sat in on doctors' appointments with her, bought a cot for the spare room, even started knitting—'

Miss Fotheringay paused, and shook her head as though in disbelief at the story she was telling. ‘She was nearly six months pregnant when Michael suddenly turned up and took over,' she continued in a harsher tone. ‘Suddenly I wasn't needed any more. Michael and Anna spent hours talking about the Moscow story and I was horrified to learn that they planned to go out there together, after the baby was born. I told Michael he should let Anna and the child stay behind, but he said it was nothing to do with me. There was a violent row. I said that it was mad to think of taking a child somewhere so dangerous, and Michael started shouting, telling me I was an interfering fool. The next day they moved to his mother's flat in Queensway.

‘They both turned on me. Anna wrote to me and said that I had to accept that it was her life, not mine. She accused me of being controlling, of wanting too much of what wasn't on offer. I could see that I had to step back, so I did. I let out my flat and took a teaching job at the English school in Rome, and did not even tell Anna my address. I next heard of her six months later, when her
death was reported in the press. A baby daughter, I read, had been left in the care of a grandmother.'

Miss Fotheringay's eyes closed a moment, wincing as if against a physical pain. Then she turned and looked at Edie very clearly.

‘Not a single day has gone by, Edith, when I have not thought of my friend Anna and her child. When you swam, unsought, into my ken, I felt that the gods had forgiven me, at last, for falling out with my dearest friend. And now I hope you will forgive me too.'

‘For what?' Edie whispered.

‘For not finding you sooner.' Miss Fotheringay looked at her, as if for confirmation, and Edie smiled.

She did not know how long Miss Fotheringay sat by her bed. She felt very tired, and though she summoned all her strength to stay awake, she could see the pale glow of the nightlight blurring before her half-closed eyes. She was aware of a bell ringing, and of Miss Fotheringay's low voice talking about Anastasia, and next term, and Christmas, as if pronouncing from a dream.

‘What did you like most about her?' Edie asked suddenly, hearing her mother's name.

Miss Fotheringay looked thoughtful, her eyes distant and half smiling, as if watching a scene from long ago.

‘Her courage,' she said.

Shades of Gold

E
die felt like the Queen as she sat propped against the pillows in the back of Prince Stolonov's brown Bentley, her blanket tucked regally about her knees.
But the Queen
, she thought ruefully,
would not be twiddling her thumbs waiting for her best friend to say her goodbyes
.

It was the last day of term at Knight's Haddon, and the courtyard was full of parents trying to get away, delayed by daughters passionately hugging each other goodbye for the umpteenth time and arranging to meet in the holidays. Trunks and tuck boxes were being lifted into boots while toddlers tripped over their sisters' lacrosse sticks and dogs were told to ‘Get down boy, down!'

Edie thought back to her lonely vigil at the dormitory window when she had watched the school empty for the
exeat
, knowing she would be the only one left behind.
This time she was going away too – with Anastasia.

‘Ansti tells me you've never been to the South of France,' the prince said from the front of the car, slipping the mobile phone on which he had been talking into his pocket. ‘You should feel quite at home in Menton. It's full of invalids.'

‘I hope I won't be an invalid much longer,' Edie said quietly, but she was glad all the same that she had been ordered out of the December cold and into the warmth of the waiting car. She knew she would get better, but she wasn't yet. She had had to promise to obey doctors' orders to the letter before Miss Fotheringay had agreed to let her go on holiday with her friend.

Aunt Sophia had been much easier to get around. ‘
Of course you should go to the South of France with Anastasia, darling
,' she had written. ‘
Wish I was coming too – I've heard the prince is an absolute dish! But can you really bear to be picked up by Miss Fotheringay on Christmas Eve? She says you've agreed to spend Christmas and the rest of the holidays with her and her ancient parents. If you're happy, that's fine, but don't let her bully you into it. I can't believe it's what you want
.'

Edie smiled. Aunt Sophia had no idea. Miss Fotheringay had offered her something she had wanted all her life.

Lyle had also written:

Dear coz, prince's villa in the South of France???!!! Bum in the butter or what???!!! Don't forget Folly.

And now here was Anastasia, climbing into the back of the car in a welter of possessions and half-finished sentences.

‘Oh, Papa, I'm so sorry . . . I didn't realise you were in the car already . . . I was trying to find Fothy . . . completely disappeared . . . Helen says it always happens on the last day of term.'

As Anastasia spoke the prince turned the first corner in the drive, and from her window Edie noticed a tall, familiar figure on the far side of the park. She pressed her face to the glass, and watched as Miss Fotheringay walked alone up the low hill towards the beech wood. Then the drive twisted again, and she was gone.

‘Oh, Edie, just think how silly we were,' Anastasia's voice sang on. ‘I can't believe we
ever
thought she'd be capable of doing anything wrong – can you?'

Edie was reminded suddenly of Babka, who believed that there were only good people and bad people, ‘
Good people and bad people, Editha, and no people in the middle
.'

She had a shrewd idea of what Babka would have to say about her present adventure, sitting in the back of Prince Stolonov's car, on her way to his villa in the South of France: ‘
All that glisters is not gold, Editha. You would do well to remember that
.'

‘Edie, what are you thinking about?' Anastasia asked.

Edie smiled, enjoying the caressing touch of heat as the car turned towards the sun. ‘Shades of gold,' she murmured, and closed her eyes against the glare.