Country Wives (12 page)

“I was to her. To her I was the artisan she fancied for a while. What she hadn’t bargained for was that your old dad had more vigor than she gave me credit for; and after she moved in with me, she was pregnant almost immediately. But she wouldn’t have an abortion, thank God.”

Mia’s heart almost broke in two. She clutched hold of Kate’s hand and sat like a link in a chain, connecting the pair of them.

Kate, horrified, had to ask, “Did you want her to?”

“No, of course not. But if she had wanted one, there wasn’t much I could have done about it, was there?”

“No. So what did she say when she found out?”

“Not repeatable in present company. She was as sick as a dog for weeks. You had to admire her pluck—went to work every day feeling like death warmed up.”

“Work? What did she do?”

“Solicitor.”

“Solicitor!”

Gerry nodded.

“Dad, were you glad? About me?”

“Glad. The bells of heaven must have been ringing their clappers to a standstill. Glad! Was I? I was. Glad and proud and delighted and thrilled. So was she when the sickness stopped, and she could feel you moving about inside her. I used to put my hand on her stomach and feel for you moving. What joy.”

Mia controlled her tears; she mustn’t be seen to weep. This was Kate’s night, not hers.

Kate felt peculiar. Primitive. Basic. Earthier than before. Suddenly her mother became real for her. Her dad was turned in on his memories; she could see that from the look in his eyes. He cleared his throat, saying “Wonderful days. You gave her a hell of a time when you were born, though. Day and a half, it took. Then you came in a rush, shot out almost. I remember the sun was shining into the delivery room; and it seemed to me that you were charmed, very special, a kind of chosen one. And you were so beautiful, screaming to the heavens, but beautiful. I remember the midwife said, ‘She’s here to stay.’ ”

“My mother”—it felt odd saying that—“how did she feel?”

Gerry didn’t seem to want to answer.

She asked again, “How did she feel about me?” There was an almost pathetic eagerness to know in Kate’s voice, a need to
hear about her mother’s approval or acceptance, or, heaven forbid, rejection.

Mia heard the slight change in Gerry’s voice and guessed he was saying what he knew Kate wanted to hear. “Well, once they’d attended to her and washed you and sorted you out and given you to her to hold, she was thrilled. Very thrilled. You must understand she was exhausted. It had been a long time.”

Mia stood up. “I’ll make a cup of tea.” While she busied herself with that, Gerry went on reminiscing about Kate’s first week at home. “My, you were demanding. The midwife said she’d never seen a baby as hungry as you.”

“What did I weigh, Dad? Do you remember?”

“Engraved on my heart. Katrina Howard, seven pounds exactly. Here, look, I found this the other day; it’s the identification band they put round your wrist.”

Gerry dug in the top pocket of his jacket and handed her the small plastic band. “Oh, look, Mia! Isn’t that lovely. You’ve kept it all this time. That’s so lovely; I can’t believe it. Can I keep it?”

Gerry nodded.

Mia put her hand on Kate’s shoulder and loved her joy as she turned the tiny plastic band round and round with such endearing care. Mia had no idea Gerry had it hidden away. It seemed today there was a lot she didn’t know about him. Tessa. Hm.

“So, Kate, that was how it all started.”

“That’s not all, though, is it Dad? What happened then? Why did she leave me?”

Understandably, Gerry found this part of the story even harder to face than the beginning had been. He fidgeted with the cruet, placing it straight and smoothing the tablecloth; he found a crumb, picked it up and put it on his side plate; he looked up into Mia’s sympathetic, encouraging eyes and finally
gained the strength to say “She found motherhood wasn’t all it was cracked up to be, and she couldn’t cope.”

“You mean she had postnatal depression.”

Gerry shifted his feet uneasily. “Something like that.”

“Well, that is hard to cope with, isn’t it. Sometimes it can drive a mother to suicide.” Immediately panicking about what she’d said, Kate asked, “She didn’t, did she? Is that why I’ve never known her?”

“No, she didn’t.” Gerry stood up. “There, I’ve said enough for one night. Can’t talk about it anymore.” He headed for the stairs.

Mia called out, “Your tea! I’ve poured it.”

“No, thanks.” Gerry left them and went upstairs, and shortly they heard the Flying Scotsman hurtling along its tracks.

Kate sat silently, either fingering the plastic band or picking up her cup and sipping her scalding hot tea. Mia was silent too. In this situation there wasn’t a great deal a stepmother could find to say except “More tea?”

“No, thanks. He can’t leave it like this. I’m going up to find out more. He was being kind, wasn’t he? Saying she might have had postnatal depression?”

Mia shook her head. “I honestly don’t know. I’ve learned more tonight than ever before. It’s a closed book as far as your dad is concerned. It’s all so painful for him.”

Kate drew in a deep breath, so deep her shoulders heaved as she took it. “It hurts me badly too. How could she leave me? How could she? I can’t forgive that. I just cannot. Two weeks old. She can’t have had much maternal feeling for me, can she?”

“We’re all different, Kate. I couldn’t leave you at nineteen years, never mind two weeks. But that’s me. Soft old Mia.”

Kate’s arms were round Mia in a second, and they hugged each other tightly.

“Oh, Mia! I love you!”

“And I love you.”

They hugged a moment longer, then Kate sat down and wiped her eyes on a tissue borrowed from Mia. “He can’t leave it like this. He’s got to tell me more. I know he hurts, but it might be better to bring it all out now, while he’s in the mood. You know, Mia, he must have been devastated when she left. Imagine being dumped like that and with a baby too, when he loved her. I think he did love her, don’t you? Otherwise it wouldn’t be quite so hard for him. I wonder if they’ve communicated at all since?”

Mia shook her head again. “Not to my knowledge.”

“I’m going to ask.”

Kate stood up and was at the foot of the stairs before Mia could stop her. She protested, “No, don’t, love, he’s had enough.” But she was too late.

Gerry was hunched over, watching his goods train as it pulled into the station siding. He switched it off, and as Kate looked on he pulled out his handkerchief and blew his nose.

“Thanks for telling me, Dad.”

“Oh! It’s you.” As though he’d never broken off the conversation he continued by saying, “She was lovely looking, was your mum. That’s where you get it from, certainly not from me.”

Trying to keep it light, Kate joked, “Oh! I don’t know. You’re not that bad looking. I think I’ve got your nose.”

“For your sake I hope you haven’t. She made a big mistake, did your mum. She should never have taken up with me.”

“Don’t underrate yourself.”

“I’m not. I’m speaking the truth. I don’t like to say too much in front of Mia; it wouldn’t be right. But your mother, though full of good intentions, should never have taken up with me. I was blessedly grateful for her, but more so because she gave me you. At least I had you to cling to when she’d gone. You to get up for, you to bathe, you to feed, you to support. Without you
I’d have gone under. There’d have been no point in living but for you.”

“She didn’t like me, did she?”

Quickly Gerry denied this. “It wasn’t like that at all. She couldn’t cope with being tied every hour of the day.”

“But she could have found someone to care for me while she went to work. She would be earning enough to do that as a solicitor. But she didn’t.”

Gerry hadn’t an answer to that. “Don’t let it get to you what she did. You’ve got Mia and she’s been worth twenty of your mum to you.” Her dad took her hand in both his and muttered, “Worth twenty, she’s been. A real lifesaver, for you and for me. So don’t you go upsetting her talking to her about your mum, wanting to see her and that.” He looked up at Kate to see how she’d taken what he’d said.

“I shan’t. I’m not daft. It’s just that it’s important to me to
know who I am
. You haven’t got a photo of her, have you?”

Gerry dropped her hand abruptly, swung back to his train layout and said emphatically, “No. I have not. I burned it all. Every last bit.”

Kate went to the window to look out. “You know Zoe at the practice? Well, she’s got her baby, like I said, and she isn’t ever going to tell the father about the baby, nor the baby about his father. To me that’s terribly wrong. You
need to know
. You really do. Believe me.”

“Well, now you do know. So that’s that. Go downstairs and keep Mia company, because she cherishes you more than life itself and that’s something for anyone, rich or poor, to be very, very grateful for.”

It was on the tip of Kate’s tongue to ask if her dad loved Mia as he’d loved her own mother, but she changed her mind. Perhaps it would be best not to know the answer to that.

K
ate was glad she wasn’t working the following morning, because she was still feeling confused by all she’d learned from her father the previous night. She lay in bed, staring at the chinks of light creeping round the edges of her curtains and thinking about her mother. It would have been so good to have seen a photograph of her. Even a faded one, just to have some idea of what one half of Kate Howard actually came from. It seemed odd that fifty percent of herself was derived from someone she’d never seen or really known anything about.

She took a hand out from under the duvet and examined it in the half-light, and wondered if she’d inherited her mother’s hands because they certainly weren’t the square, solid hands of her dad. A solicitor. Just think, she could have wanted to be one and not realized she was being led by her genes. Or did it work that way? Whatever. Tessa. Tessa Fenton. Kate flung herself on her other side and contemplated leaving her own two-week-old baby, and knew she couldn’t, not even if they’d had to go and live together in a cardboard box somewhere. A baby was part of
you. How could any mother have walked away and never bothered again? But Tessa had done just that, and for the callousness that illustrated Kate decided she wouldn’t want to know her, ever, and she wasn’t going to waste any more of her time thinking about her and what she was and what she looked like. And she’d never search for her. Never ever.

Mia shouted from downstairs, “Kate, phone for you.”

“OK.” Kate ran downstairs and took the receiver. “Hello, Kate Howard speaking.”

“Dan here, Kate. Sorry for interrupting your day off.”

“That’s all right.”

“Kate, I’ve had a rather surprising card this morning inviting me and your good self to afternoon tea at Applegate Farm, today. At four.”

“Afternoon tea! Are you sure?”

“I am. As you know them, I thought you wouldn’t say no. I’m going anyway. I’ve an idea there’s a surprise in store for us.”

“I bet there is. Food poisoning.”

“Well, that too. Do you fancy going?”

“I suppose I do.”

“If you’ve nothing else on.”

“OK. But if I’m off work tomorrow, I shall blame you. What on earth can it be about?”

“I’ve said I think they might have a surprise in store.”

“What kind of a surprise?”

“Wait and see. I don’t want to let them down.”

“Of course not. Yes, I’ll go. Curiosity is getting the better of me.”

“I’ll pick you up if I may; would that be all right?”

“Yes.” Kate gave him instructions about how to find her house and saying “See you at half past three, then. Bye,” put down the receiver.

•   •   •

T
HEY
were halfway to Applegate Farm when Kate burst out with “Do you remember me saying I wished I knew about my mother?”

Dan nodded.

“Well, my dad told me last night. About me being born and that.”

“I’m glad. Are you glad?”

“Yes, I am. He didn’t tell me much, but enough. Last night I wanted to see a picture of her, but this morning I don’t.”

“Why not?”

“Because I can’t forgive her for abandoning me.”

“Oh.”

“You don’t think I’m right.”

“It’s not up to me.”

“I’d like to know if you think I’m right, Dan.”

Keeping his eyes on the road, Dan said tentatively, “What you mustn’t do is harbor resentment toward her, because it will fester. Either forget all about her and get on with your life, or forgive her. But don’t have resentment hovering about in your mind, niggling away.”

“It’s a very hard thing to forgive anyone for.”

“It is, I agree.”

“Mia’s worth twenty of her, like Dad said, and I wouldn’t do anything to hurt her.”

“We’re almost there. Prepare yourself, my child.”

Kate had to laugh. “You know what this is all about, don’t you?” A suspicion gathered in her mind. “Did you really get an invitation?”

He applied the brake and dipped his hand into his top pocket. “See for yourself.” Dan gave her a piece of bright pink card. On it was written:

“In the barn tearoom? Oh, God! What have we let ourselves in for? I don’t know which is worse, the house or the barn.”

Dan looked across at the farm buildings and said, “Take a look.”

There was red, white and blue bunting, dusty and crumpled, strung over the door to Sunny Boy’s stall. Sitting in the doorway was little Scott with a small Union Jack tied round her neck. Then Kate saw Blossom appear in the doorway, waving.

“Here goes.” Dan waved enthusiastically through the open window. Still smiling at Blossom, he muttered to Kate that he had stomach tubing with him if need be.

He put on his boots, waited for Kate to do the same, then they both got out and marched cheerfully toward Sunny Boy’s stall. The bunting appeared grubbier the nearer they got, but the welcome was enthusiastic and they cheered up enormously.