‘When I went in search of you,’ Daniel was saying, his voice lowered as another couple sat down at a table near theirs, ‘I didn’t expect you to love me … that can’t be manufactured overnight. But I so wanted you to think I was special in some way. Not because I’m any different from anyone else, I don’t mean that, but because … I don’t know, I just wanted to be special to you. And for a while there, I felt I was.’ He stared across at her, his expression suddenly vulnerable. He cleared his throat. ‘And then this bloody party … Emma … and it was like a house of cards.’ He looked away.
‘You
are
very special to me, Daniel,’ Annie said quietly. ‘Why do you think I’m here?’
Daniel didn’t reply. The silence dragged on, and she felt they were both just tired of it all. He must have thought about this almost as obsessively as she had. She wanted to speak, but there seemed so much to say, too much; she had no idea where to start. In the end it all
came down to something very simple: she was his mother.
‘Daniel … when you were born, maybe it was true that I didn’t want you, or want the drama that would have been our life if I’d kept you. But that didn’t alter how much I found myself loving you.’ She paused, remembering. ‘I loved every inch of you … I knew you so well back then.’ She looked across at her son, and in that moment, as she saw the tears fill his light eyes, she finally married the two people, the baby and the man. Tom was finally Daniel, not just in fact, but in her heart. ‘I gave you away. But that doesn’t mean I didn’t love you as much as it is possible to love another human being in the time I had with you. I loved you just as deeply as I love my other children.’
There was a long silence. Neither looked at the other. Annie took a sip of her wine, just for something to do, and instantly regretted it.
‘I’m kind of jealous of them, Marsha and the others, I’ll admit that,’ he muttered. ‘It all seems so cosy, so perfect for them. They have you and Richard, they belong. You all belong.’ He stopped and shook his head. ‘But there’s no point going down this road.’
‘I wish I could change that.’
Daniel shot his mother a rueful grin. ‘Christ, I’m maudlin. Feeling sorry for myself. It’s pathetic. Please, don’t indulge me, I’m just tired.’
She smiled. ‘I’m glad we’ve had the chance to talk, to air how we both feel.’
‘Hmm … so long as it’s not an excuse for you to wallow in guilt for another thirty years.’
‘Can’t promise that …’
‘I understand why Ed thought I’d done it,’ Daniel went on, almost to himself. ‘If I’d have been him, I’d have thought exactly the same. The girls were wonderful … are wonderful. I like you all so much. But you must see what an awkward position we’re left in. Without Emma retracting her accusation – which she might not even remember the whole truth about, she was so drunk – there will always be a question in their minds.’
She nodded, ‘I know what you’re saying, of course I do. But what about you and me?’ She looked hard at her son. ‘I want you in my life, Daniel. I want to know you. It’s as simple as that.’
‘Thanks, Annie,’ Daniel replied tiredly. ‘And thanks for coming. That means everything to me.’ He looked at his watch in a determined way. ‘Listen, I’ve got to get back. There’s a party … last night knees-up.’ He wiped his hands across his face. ‘Strange to think it’s over. So much work and only three performances.’
‘You must be so proud of it.’
He nodded, his frown lifting. ‘I am. Gillen did such a great job. He’s a major talent.’
‘As are you. Will you come back to London now?’
He hesitated. ‘Not sure. There’s something else I haven’t told you, Annie. Gillen and I, we’re together … have been since the spring. It sort of built as we worked on
the play together. But he’s Scottish, he lives up here, so we haven’t seen much of each other. He was coming back and forth when I had the flat, but now we’re thinking we might stay in Edinburgh, find a place together. And it could be easier to get the next project off the ground up here.’
Annie tried not to show her disappointment. ‘It’s a long way.’
‘I’ll be down a lot. Stoke Newington beckons!’
‘I’d say come to ours when you’re down, but perhaps we should leave that plan on ice for the moment.’ They both laughed.
‘Yeah … not falling into that trap again in a hurry.’
‘I’m sorry it …’
He held up his hand. ‘Stop! No more apologies, no more recriminations. Let’s just take it slowly. See each other when we can, not make any plans.’
Which is what I should have done from the start, she thought.
‘As long as we do see each other. I’m not going to beg, but please don’t disappear on me again.’
He smiled apologetically. ‘OK, that wasn’t very grownup. Gillen told me so in no uncertain terms, but I had my stupid pride.’
‘We said no more apologies.’ She got up. Daniel put down the empty beer bottle he’d been cradling like a comfort blanket during their talk, and stood up too.
‘OK, but just one more. I’m so sorry about your mother.
I should have called you. Are you alright? … Stupid question.’
‘I haven’t been, but it’s getting better, I suppose. Never easy, as you know, when you lose your mother – whatever the relationship. But she was in her eighties …’ She kept saying that to people, to show that she was OK about it, but in fact she couldn’t see what difference it made, her mother being old.
He nodded and leaned forward to kiss her on the cheek. ‘Thank you for coming all this way, Annie,’ he repeated. ‘I’d been falling apart over the Emma thing, not knowing what to do about you.’
‘Even if you stay in Edinburgh, you’ll keep in touch with me? Promise?’ she asked.
‘Scout’s honour,’ he replied, holding up three fingers as if taking an oath. And she had to believe him.
‘And your father – Charles – just to say that if you choose to see him again, it’ll have to be without me being involved.’
Daniel looked puzzled and was just about to say something, but she hurried on. ‘Nothing sinister … I just think it’s best if you both have your own relationship now.’ She knew that she couldn’t use Daniel as an excuse to see Charles again.
‘OK …’ He was looking at her closely but she bent her head, digging in her bag for her mobile and scrolling through the contacts.
‘I’ll text it to you … Charles’s number.’
‘Thanks.’
They said goodbye, and as she walked up to her room she hoped Daniel would keep in touch with Charles, even if he would never meet her mother now. Eleanor had chosen not to see the baby, and now she would have no chance to know the man.
The train home the next morning was dreary, the journey soporific. She dozed on and off, only to wake to more rain-soaked fields and grey northern towns. She was longing to ring Daniel, but she didn’t want to hassle him. I just have to trust I’ve done enough. But she knew she would have few chances to see him if he stayed in Scotland. And suddenly her life seemed very empty. Her mother, she now realised, had been a massive presence. As she rattled down the east coast, there were things she knew she would have relayed to Eleanor: things about Daniel, Edinburgh, the play. Would she have mentioned he was gay? Yes, definitely. After the way her mother had denied Uncle Terence’s homosexuality, however, she could imagine the chilly response she’d have received.
Her phone rang and she grabbed it eagerly, hoping it was Daniel. It was Charles. They’d only spoken once, briefly, since her mother’s death. He’d wanted to get together, she had refused.
‘I’m on a train,’ she warned him. ‘We might lose connection.’
‘How are you?’ he asked.
‘I’m alright. You?’
‘Oh, you know. Louisa’s back tomorrow. Dreading it. How did it go with your mother’s funeral?’
‘Not sure I remember much about it. But OK, I guess.’
She told him about Daniel. He didn’t seem particularly surprised or even interested that Daniel was gay.
‘Credit to you, Annie, you’re a stayer, going all that way just to say you care. Hope Daniel appreciates it.’
‘That’s not why I did it. My motives were entirely selfish!’
‘Maybe, but selfish in a good way. Annie, before I lose you to a tunnel, I want to say something. I can’t get what happened between us out of my head. I know we were both stressed out by stuff that day, and the wine probably didn’t help, but you can’t deny there was something there. I don’t know … it just felt right to me.’
Her heart sank. ‘No, Charles, no. It felt
good
in the moment, I won’t deny that. But not right. It wasn’t right.’
‘Well, OK. Not right in the moral sense perhaps, but I haven’t felt that desire for anyone for so long.’
‘That’s such a man thing to say!’ She exclaimed. ‘Of course you haven’t. You’ve been married for twenty-five years. You can’t live on the edge of that sort of desire for someone you see every day in washing-up gloves and the like, it wouldn’t be human.’
She heard him sigh. ‘OK, fair enough. But I wanted you to know that for me it was real.’
‘Get a grip, Charles.’
He laughed. ‘Maybe it’s the masochist in me. Maybe the fact that you’re always so rude to me is a turn-on! I shall get a whip.’
‘I said “grip”, not “whip”,’ she replied, beginning to giggle. At that point, mercifully, the train went into a tunnel and the connection was lost before Charles could reply. As she gazed out at the blackened brick walls and saw only her own reflection staring back, she understood how dangerously seductive his ability to make her laugh was. Taking nothing seriously, including himself, he was the antithesis of her husband’s probity. And when things had been so complicated at home, she’d found she enjoyed it more than she should. Is that what drove Richard into the arms of the Belgian? A bit of giggling over a few glasses of good wine? She was still angry with him. She knew she had to come to terms with what he had done, considering Charles, but however much she tried not to picture it, she was still devastated by the thought of her own husband having sex with another woman. How would they be able to trust each other in the future?
21
‘Mike, hi.’ Marsha walked through the door held open by her brother’s flatmate. ‘Sorry, I know it’s early …’
Mike looked wasted, but that was nothing new. She wasn’t sure if he’d just got up or never been to bed, because his stained sweatpants, black vest and patchy stubble were pretty much the only way she’d ever seen him.
He grunted, checking his mobile, which he clutched in one hand. ‘Ten thirty.… not so early. Um, the others aren’t up yet. Do you want tea or something? I’ve just put the kettle on.’
She shook her head.
‘I can wake them if you like?’
‘Thanks.’ She sat down on the sofa. She could hardly contain her fury.
Ed emerged first. ‘Sis? What are you doing here? What’s up?’ He sat down in the only armchair and stared bleary-eyed at her.
‘I need to talk to you … both.’
Ed glanced towards the bedroom. ‘She’ll be up in a minute. She’s awake.’
‘Good.’
‘You look totally hacked off. Something happened? Tell me …’
‘I’ll wait till Emma’s here.’
Ed pulled a face, glancing warily at her. ‘OK. I’ll just get some coffee going. Want some?’
She shook her head, watching him pad through to the kitchen in his T-shirt and tracksuit bottoms. What will this do to him? She didn’t want her brother hurt, but she wasn’t going to let Emma get away with it for a minute longer. If they split up as a consequence, wasn’t that better in the long run for Ed? She was sick and tired of making excuses for her friend. Ever since she could remember, she had let Emma off the hook every bloody time. Because it was generally accepted that Emms was Emms and couldn’t really help behaving badly. But was that really true?
Emma finally appeared from the bedroom wearing one of Ed’s sweatshirts and a pair of faded pink pyjama bottoms. Even in her dishevelled state, with her hair tousled and her dark eyes rimmed with smudged mascara, she still looked unreasonably beautiful. This was the first time Marsha had spoken to her since their row. When she saw her, Emma didn’t flinch, just raised an eyebrow slightly before sitting in the chair her boyfriend had just vacated and rubbing one eye with the back of her hand.
‘Hi.’
‘Hi.’
Ed popped his head round the kitchen door. ‘Coffee, Emms?’
She nodded. ‘Please.’
Marsha waited, not looking at Emma, until her brother was back in the room, carrying two mugs. Emma scrunched around, drawing her legs up under her and hiding her hands in her sleeves in a childlike gesture very familiar to Marsha. She
is
still a child, she couldn’t help thinking, and was annoyed that the thought slightly diminished her anger.
‘OK …’ She drew in her breath, let it out slowly. ‘I talked to Mum last night. She’s just back from Edinburgh, seeing Daniel’s play.’ She paused.
‘Brilliant, I’m sure,’ Ed muttered, a slightly sneering edge to his tone.
‘Don’t know, Mum didn’t say. But that’s not the interesting part of her trip. The interesting part, the truly fascinating part, is that Daniel told her he’s gay.’
There was a stunned silence. Emma dropped her head, wouldn’t look at either of them.
‘Gay?’ Ed looked bewildered. ‘Did she believe him?’
Marsha nodded. ‘Well, yes, she did, especially seeing as he introduced her to his partner – the man he’s just about to set up house with.’
Ed looked at his girlfriend. ‘Emms?’
When she finally met his gaze, she looked, if anything, defiant, not contrite, as Marsha had expected.
‘So what?’ she shot at Ed. ‘Just because he’s gay doesn’t mean he didn’t attack me.’
‘Oh, for Christ’s sake, Emma!’ Marsha exploded. ‘Stop it, will you? Just drop the act.’
Emma glared at her. ‘Great friend you turned out to be. Daniel’s clever, he’s just conned your poor mum … all of you, with his smooth talk and his Oxbridge blah.’
‘Emma –’ Ed’s voice was very low and Marsha’s heart went out to him ‘– please. It seems pretty unlikely that a gay guy in a relationship would come onto a girl …’
Emma began to cry. ‘Go on,’ she sobbed, ‘take Daniel’s side.’ She blinked her tear-filled lashes at him. ‘What can I do? If you think I’m capable of lying like that, you should dump me, never speak to me again, babe, because it would be a terrible thing to do.’