She kept replaying the
conversation she’d had with Jane, over and over in her mind. Could Jenny be
right? Could she be her cousin? It was certainly possible. Stephanie would know
if her father had a brother.
Her thoughts turned to
Stephanie, who was now “Stephanie” in her mind when she thought of her, rather
than “Mum”. Alice remembered she had told her she would call her today. Looking
at her alarm clock, she saw that it was 11:45 p.m. It was too late to phone her
now; she would be asleep. She felt a twinge of guilt for not phoning her, aware
that Stephanie had been very upset after their last meeting.
Having had time to think it
over, Alice was no longer angry with her for not telling her about the
surrogacy agreement. In truth, she wished she had never told her.
Ignorance
is bliss
, she thought.
I wish I didn’t know. I wish Stephanie was my
mum.
She thought about Miranda, and
momentarily wondered about whether she could find her. But then she felt
foolish, realising that Miranda had never wanted her: she had sold her; given
her away. Why would she want anything to do with her now? But she wondered
whether Miranda may have regretted giving her away. Did she ever think about
her and wish she could find her? Pushing the thought from her mind, she decided
to concentrate on finding her father first and deal with everything else later.
A tear came to her eye as she
thought of the way she had spoken to Stephanie. She had been angry when she
found out, but now she knew that none of it was Stephanie’s fault; not the fact
that she was unable to have children of her own, the fact of her husband
leaving her to bring up a small child on her own, or the fact that she had been
so afraid of losing Alice that she hadn’t told her the truth. She resolved to
phone Stephanie in the morning and tell her that she understood and that she
had forgiven her.
She tried to think of something
else and her mind went back to the party. She remembered Andrew and felt sad
again. She cried frustrated tears. She felt sure that he would have got the
impression that she wasn’t interested in him.
Why is everything going wrong
at once
?
***
As Stephanie lay in bed that night, she wondered how she
had managed to get through the day. The salon had been very busy in the morning
and she had hardly had the time to sit down. She put on a happy face and had
managed to fool some people, but many of her regular clients commented that she
seemed “tired” or “quiet”. A couple of times, she made the excuse that she
needed to go to the toilet, but in fact had taken a few minutes to cry bitter
tears and take deep breaths to calm her mind.
At lunchtime, she told Rosie she had a migraine and would
be taking the afternoon off. She asked her to phone her clients and rearrange
her appointments. She could tell that Rosie didn’t believe her. Stephanie had
never suffered from migraines. But even though they’d been friends for a long
time, she could not bring herself to tell Rosie what was really wrong. There
was only one person she could speak to about this.
She phoned Rita and had been
unable to say much on the phone as she could not hold back the tears. Rita had
met her at the café where they had first met each other again after almost
twenty years.
She spent two hours with Rita in
the café, not eating but trying to come to terms with everything that had
happened.
‘You look pale, Steph. You should eat some lunch,
you’ve been working all morning.’
‘I think I’ve lost Alice. I
think she hates me. The way she looked at me. How can she ever forgive me? I
lied to her.’ Her tears began to spill, and the waitress who was passing by
their table tried to pretend she hadn’t seen, busying herself with wiping a
nearby table.
The café was buzzing with the
lunchtime crowd, many of the customers queuing up to buy a take-away sandwich.
All the tables were occupied. Stephanie was hardly aware that there was anyone else
around, and if she had been, she would not have cared. Her world had fallen
apart. After a sleepless night, no breakfast and a busy morning at the salon,
she didn’t really care what she looked like, what she said, or who witnessed
it.
‘Steph, you’re not wearing
any make-up. I hardly recognised you,’ said Rita. ‘You really should try to put
things into perspective. Don’t let this bring you down. Alice is shocked, but
when she’s had time to digest it, she will understand.’
‘She said she’d call me
today. I’ve been waiting for her call all morning. Every time the phone rang in
the salon, I went to pick it up, even when I was in the middle of doing
someone’s hair. I’m desperate to talk to her.’
‘Well, why don’t you call
her?’
‘No, I can’t.’ Stephanie’s
face blanched and for a moment Rita thought she would faint.
‘Oh, this is ridiculous. You
haven’t slept, and you haven’t eaten anything all day; you’re not thinking
straight.’ Rita stood up. ‘I’m going to get you a sandwich and then we’ll talk
some more.’ Her forehead creased into a frown.
Stephanie sat alone at the
table and now noticed a few people looking at her, but when she looked at them
they turned away. She had caught sight of her reflection a couple of times in
the salon mirrors, mostly avoiding looking at herself, but when she had, she
saw that the bags under her eyes gave away the fact that she hadn’t slept, and
her hair was unkempt as she had hardly bothered to brush it that morning. She
had got dressed quickly, after having difficulty getting out of bed because she
had not slept, then she had splashed some water on her face and ran a brush
through her hair once or twice. Her appearance was the last thing on her mind
when she left the house that morning.
Feeling self-conscious now,
she wiped her eyes with a tissue from her handbag and tried to compose herself.
Rita brought her a sandwich and a cup of tea. Stephanie smiled at her friend.
‘I’m so sorry, Rita,’ she
said.
‘No need to apologise.’
‘I’ve been behaving so
selfishly, dragging you here and then not listening to you.’
‘Look, Steph, I understand.
It’s okay. Eat your lunch.’
She took a bite of the
sandwich and washed it down with a sip of tea. She looked beyond the people
seated at the tables, out at the street and towards the sky. There were hardly
any clouds and the sun was out. She tried to concentrate on the brightness of
the day, to pull herself out of the mire of her thoughts. ‘Do you think Alice
will ever talk to me again?’ she said almost to the sky beyond the window.
‘Oh, of course she will,’
said Rita, sipping her coffee and frowning at Stephanie.
Stephanie pulled her eyes
away from the view outside and looked at her friend. ‘Thanks for coming, Rita.
You’re such a good friend.’
‘It’s okay. I just wanted to
make sure you’re all right. I personally think you did the right thing telling
Alice. She’ll thank you in the end.’
‘Do you think so?’ A shred of
hope for Stephanie to grasp onto. Her eyes brightened for a fraction of a
second.
‘I’m sure of it,’ said Rita,
nodding and smiling.
‘It’s just the way she looked
at me; it was like she was looking at a stranger,’ said Stephanie, her eyes
distant again.
Stephanie’s mind snapped back to the present and she
looked at her alarm clock as she lay in bed. It was 11:45 p.m.
She didn’t
call, she said she would phone today. Maybe she forgot, maybe she’ll call
tomorrow.
Trying to block out her thoughts, she fell into a deep exhausted,
dreamless sleep.
Chapter Ten
Wednesday 20th August 1997
Alice arrived at
Bairns’ Books
at 8:45 a.m.
‘Hi,’ said Charlotte, brightly.
‘How are you?’
‘Oh, fine,’ she replied,
unconvincingly.
‘So, tell all.’ Charlotte
grinned at her as she made her way behind the counter. ‘How was the party? It
was yesterday, wasn’t it? I want to know everything!’
‘It was a great party.’ She
turned her face away from Charlotte.
‘Did you get to talk to that boy
you fancy?’
‘Yes.’ She felt herself blush,
not so much from romantic thoughts of Andrew, but more from embarrassment at
how their conversation had turned out.
‘Come on then, I want all the
sordid details.’ Charlotte leaned in towards her, so that it was impossible for
Alice to avoid her eyes.
‘Um... there’s nothing to tell,
really.’
‘You’re so cool!’ said
Charlotte, smiling at her. ‘You’ve fancied this boy for ages and now you get to
chat to him and you’re just so calm about it. I would have literally been
tearing his clothes off if it had been me.’ She laughed.
Alice couldn’t help joining in
with the laughter.
‘So, when are you gonna see him
again?’
‘We swapped numbers,’ she lied.
‘I’ll probably call him next week.’
‘You ice queen. I wish I could
be more like you, Alice!’
She forced a smile at Charlotte,
wishing they could change the subject.
‘Now, let me tell you all about
my
evening!’ Looking much more comfortable being in the spotlight once again,
Charlotte sat down on the stool behind the counter and began to relate details
about her evening out with her new boyfriend, Dave; an actor she had met on a
recent film set. As Alice listened to her, she couldn’t help thinking about
Andrew. She dearly wanted another chance to talk to him.
***
When Alice returned from lunch, Charlotte greeted her
with: ‘Oh yeah, I’ve been meaning to ask you how your search for your dad is
going. Did your mum tell you where he lives?’
It came as a surprise to Alice
that Charlotte had asked her this; she had always assumed that Charlotte was
more interested in herself than anyone else, and had taken it for granted that
anything she said to her would be forgotten after a few minutes. That’s one of
the reasons she had told Charlotte about her father in the first place, or
indeed about Andrew; believing that she was someone she could talk to but not
worry about having her judge her or ask too many questions.
Alice’s initial reaction was
just to stare in disbelief at Charlotte.
‘Well?’ asked Charlotte,
snapping her out of her reverie.
‘Um... no. My mum doesn’t know
where he lives,’ she said finally.
‘Oh. Never mind,’ said
Charlotte.
A customer came along and Alice
was glad that at least it would distract her from asking anything else.
***
That evening, on the way home from the bookstore, Alice
decided to visit Stephanie. She wanted things to go back to normal... Well, as
normal as they could, considering that she now knew Stephanie wasn’t her real
mother. It was undeniable that things were different now, but she knew she
still wanted Stephanie to be a part of her life. She had always been there for
her.
When Alice arrived at
Stephanie’s flat, she found that she had not yet returned from work. Alice
decided to surprise her by cooking a meal. She looked in the kitchen cupboards
and decided to make a risotto. She had just finished cooking when Stephanie
arrived home.
‘Hi, Mum,’ she said. She had
said “Mum” instinctively, without thinking about it, then realised that she
felt strange saying it. It seemed like the wrong thing to call her.
Stephanie did not miss the fact
that, firstly, Alice had called her “Mum” and secondly, judging by the smell
emanating from the kitchen, she had cooked a meal. It felt like a weight had
been lifted off her shoulders. For the first time in almost two days, she felt
she could breathe again. She had been thinking that Alice hated her and that
was the worst feeling in the world.
Alice noticed that Stephanie
seemed pleased to see her. She was smiling, but she looked tired; older
somehow. She looked as though she hadn’t slept. Alice knew that she had been
the cause of her anguish, and felt momentarily guilty.
‘Darling! This is a surprise!
How lovely to see you,’ said Stephanie, somewhat over enthusiastically, as if
she were greeting an acquaintance in whose company she felt nervous. She was
unsure how Alice would behave and was trying to placate her in advance.
‘Did you have a good day at the
salon?’ asked Alice as Stephanie entered the kitchen.
‘Yes, sweetie. How about you?
How was work?’
It seemed that Stephanie was
having a hard time maintaining eye contact with her.
‘Oh, it was quiet,’ said Alice.
‘I’ve cooked a risotto. I don’t know if it’s any good. I didn’t have the recipe
with me. But it’s the thought that counts, right?’ She faked a laugh, while
frowning.
‘Yes,’ said Stephanie. ‘It
smells lovely; I’m sure it’ll be delicious.’ She could see that Alice was
tense. She, herself, felt nervous. At some stage it was obvious that Alice would
talk about Monday night’s conversation, and she was bracing herself for that,
unsure what else she could say.
Alice took out two plates from
the cupboard and began serving the dish.
She placed both plates on the
table in silence.
‘What would you like to drink—’
She was about to say “Mum” again, but she stopped herself just in time; she
still felt uneasy about using the word.
Stephanie watched her place the
two plates on the kitchen table with the steaming rice dish. ‘Er... I think I
have some white wine in the fridge that would go well with this,’ she said.
‘Okay.’ Alice walked over to the
fridge and took out the wine, then she took two wine glasses out of the glass
fronted cupboard.
Stephanie could feel the tension
in the air.
Perhaps she’s cooked this meal, because she’s planning to ask me
more about Roger.
The thought unnerved her. She would prefer to be the one
to bring up the subject. Alice walked over to the table and placed the wine
glasses there. She then returned to the cutlery drawer to take out some forks
and spoons.