Finding Jessica Lambert, page 21
Her mother rose from her seat in the middle of the restaurant as Anna approached with the guidance of the maître d'.
“Well, you made it.” Her mother made it sound like she was expecting Anna to fail while at the same time not comprehending how difficult it had been for Anna to meet her. The phrase was accompanied with a look up and down of appraisal and a nod to the head waiter.
“Oh, you shouldn’t have,” her mother said to the maître d'.
“Pleasure, madam,” he said, and he clicked his heels and left Anna to her mother.
Anna sloughed off her jacket onto the back of the chair. “He insisted,” she said, defensively.
“Indeed,” her mother replied. “I’m sure you’re brave enough to make you own way across a dining room.” Her mother laughed at her own joke, although it didn’t sound pleasurable, and she sat in a way that appeared decorous if not comfortable.
“Well, you look beautiful,” her mother said, which would have been heart-warming if it wasn’t for the follow up, and there always was one, “even in an old outfit.”
“Thank you,” Anna said, taking the comment for what it was.
“It shows your lovely arms,” her mother said, and she reached out and stroked along Anna’s limbs. “Just like mine. Not a drop of Daddy in your appearance is there? Although god knows where you got your spirit from.”
The word “spirit” covered all manner of sins, as far as her mother was concerned.
“I always think I take after Aunt Sophie,” Anna offered, and she kicked herself. It was unnecessary, but also satisfying. Her mother’s sister had been an actress and would never have called herself queer but loudly proclaimed she fell for someone’s soul rather than their vessel.
“Yes, well,” her mother said, and she flicked up the menu card. “Shall we order then we can catch up?” And the subject of Anna’s aunt was firmly closed. “I’m tempted by the Galloway beef. Do you want the same, save you having to read the whole menu?”
“Actually I fancied something lighter.”
“Do you mean cheaper?”
Anna opened her mouth.
“Because it’s a set menu,” her mother continued. “It’s over a hundred pounds whatever you choose.”
Anna closed her mouth.
“Oh, don’t look like that darling. I said I would treat you.”
“Thank you,” Anna said, indebted, embarrassed and all the while wishing she had the hundred-plus pounds to spend on something else.
“I’ll order two beef then,” her mother said, putting the menu aside. “You should sell that flat darling and move back to Edinburgh. You’d make a killing and you could eat out with us all the time.”
This was one of the most confusing aspects of her mother. She would belittle Anna, borderline despise her, then imply she should move nearer to see them more often. Anna had never been able to wrap her head around her mother’s thought processes. Maybe she hoped Anna would change if she moved home.
“So, how are you?” her mother said. She waited less than fraction of a second before moving on with, “I saw Cameron the other day. He asked to be remembered to you.”
Ah. That was it.
“Did he?” Anna said, failing to hide her irritation.
“He said he’d emailed.”
“He did.”
“He’s single now, you know?”
“Yes, he mentioned that in his email.”
“Next time you’re home you should meet up. He’s a catch.”
Anna thought she’d like to catch Cameron about as much as she’d like to catch herpes. She could hear Pen cackle as she thought it.
“He’s dying to get reacquainted,” her mother continued. “I mean, I told him about your trouble, but he’s still keen.”
“How lovely.”
“I would jump at the chance if I were you.”
A waiter took their order, or at least Anna’s mother’s order for them both.
Without blinking, her mother continued. “It’s not like beggars can be choosers, Anna. Life is passing you by.” Her eyes flickered, regarding Anna up and down again. “You haven’t even ventured out for new clothes in years. You might be oblivious to changes in the world, but I’m not. Yes, he does have dependents, you would have to put up with the two children staying sometimes, but he’s considered a decent catch.”
It was to her mother’s credit that she’d seamlessly skipped ahead into cohabitation and mapping out Anna’s future in Edinburgh without so much as blinking and made it seem natural and inevitable. Anna saw herself in a Georgian home, stuck inside during the day, Cameron returning with a briefcase at night, all very presentable, but another kind of prison. She’d had enough of those.
“Mother, Cameron might not be looking for someone. He said in his email they’d only recently decided on divorce.”
“Don’t be silly. A busy man like Cameron is lost without a wife, of course he’ll be looking. And what’s better than settling down with a friend.”
“We were twelve when we were friends.”
“I know.” Her mother appeared to be smiling. “Your first boyfriend.”
But not her first kiss. That had been with Daisy Miller and had been a much better introduction to romance than Cameron later offered. Anna was tempted to remind her mother loudly but decided to be braver and said, “I’m seeing someone anyway.”
The waiter arrived with a bottle of wine as cool as her mother’s reaction and poured a taster for them both.
“I’m sure it’s fine,” Anna said. “A small glass please.”
It sounded like her mother was choking slightly on her sip.
“Thank you,” her mother told the waiter icily. “So?” she added when the waiter had gone. “Tell me about him. It’s been a long time since you’ve dated, hasn’t it.”
Despite the majority of her partners having been women, her mother always assumed a man.
“She’s called Jess,” Anna said.
“Oh?” her mother said. Such a small word, and yet it carried so much disapproval.”
“We’ve just started seeing each other, but I like her very much.”
“And what does this Jess do?”
It was funny how some people fixated on people’s professions. Perhaps because her job was a source of ambivalence for Anna she shied away from talking about it.
“She works in publicity and has to travel around Europe, although she’s hoping to be based in London for a little while.”
“Hmm,” her mother said, taking another sip of wine. “Publicity.”
It wasn’t law, medicine or politics. But at least it wasn’t acting, so her mother seemed happy to remain silent on the matter.
“And,” her mother swirled her glass around, “this Jess is OK with you being a hermit?”
A flush of annoyance warmed Anna’s cheeks. “I’m not a hermit.” She couldn’t help saying it between gritted teeth. “I work. I have friends.”
“Well, I suppose you’re not quite that bad now. Is she aware of how restricted you are though? How much support you needed?”
“When did I trouble people?” Anna said, indignant. “I’ve been independent throughout all this.”
“Oh, my dear, the number of times you’ve had to call on dear Penny.”
“I return the favour many times over.”
And it was galling how “that Penny” had become “dear Penny” ever since she’d procreated.
Anna paused and called up a version of herself who could handle her mother better, an armour.
“Jess is a wonderful woman,” she said clearly, using all her training to keep her voice even. “I think the reason that I’ve fallen for her is because she realises people are different. What is difficult for her might be easy for someone else and vice versa, and I don’t feel inadequate with her. She acts as if the to and fro of helping one another is part of life, rather than charity.”
“Lower your voice, Anna,” her mother growled. “We’re not in the theatre now.”
And with a simple phrase her mother pierced her armour in one.
Anna’s rage was building. “I need the loo,” she said, standing. “Could you tell me where they are please?”
“Not a clue dear. I’m sure you’ll find them, being so independent that is.”
And another blow. She must have visibly flinched.
“Good god, Anna,” her mother tutted. “They’re over there.” Her mother pointed.
Anna slammed the cubicle door behind her, leant back and closed her eyes. It had deteriorated rapidly today. There was always some source of contention and lunch was often fraught, but this was special today and for once Anna was unwilling to let it go.
Perhaps it was because she’d had a glimpse of what it was like to trust and love again and be filled right up with the self-confidence that brings. To feel like a special, whole and desired human being. To be touched. Craved. Her heart leapt as she remembered her outburst to Jess on their walk along the canal, when Anna had let out a desperate plea that she wanted to be touched again, and Jess had caught her and desired her and lavished her with passion and kindness. Anna had stepped beyond her safe world and the rewards had been heavenly.
She took a deep breath, realising what a source of comfort and strength meeting Jess had become. She thought of Jess wrapped around her in bed last night and although only imagined Jess was a soothing presence.
Anna resorted to vocal exercises to reassure herself that her voice would remain even and when she returned, her mother sat bolt upright at the table, as relaxed or uptight as she always was. Anna was guessing a modicum of contrition though, and she guessed correctly.
“Anna, darling,” her mother said, quietly. “I’m sorry we’re arguing like this. Please sit down.”
Anna could feel eyes on them and obliged.
“I know you haven’t found it easy, but it’s frustrating to see you struggle and working so hard. You would have it much easier if you came home. We could help you. All any parent wants is to see their child safe and thriving.”
But it would take Anna away from everything she loved.
“Why do you insist on living here?” her mother continued. “You obviously can’t act anymore and being near the West End is no longer an advantage.” She reached across the table to hold Anna’s arm. It felt cool and foreign.
“You need to live in the real world. You’ve hidden away although John Boyd is dead. It’s ludicrous. It’s time to stop locking yourself away in the fantasy of acting, or a book, or literally in your aunt’s flat. Life is passing you by and you’re oblivious. Did you even know your sister was trying to get pregnant again?” Her mother looked at her as if it was all obvious. “If you can’t cope with London, come back to Edinburgh where we can help you.”
The most annoying thing was that her mother was right. Life had been passing her by and Anna did feel older and out of touch and oblivious. And it hurt.
But leave London? That would be giving up on that girl who moved there at eighteen to be the woman she wasn’t allowed to become at home. She was so close to giving up. And she silently thanked Jess. Perhaps another time she would have caved and gone back with her tail between her legs. But returning home, marrying someone like Cameron, yes that would be another kind of prison, only one her mother approved of.
“I’m not moving. This is my home,” Anna said, more tactfully.
Chapter 33.
Anna had been home five minutes when the buzzer went. She nearly didn’t hear it above the chatter on the radio. She’d come home, switched on Radio 4, turned up the volume and tried to concentrate on the concerns of a small rural community in a farming programme rather than become preoccupied with her own. The buzzer was insistent and when she peered at the small screen she saw the curls of Penny and smaller blonde head of Bibs and let them in without a word.
Penny put a subdued Bibs down on the rug, leaving her to suck at a small blanket comforter and paw a picture book. She came over to Anna and silently reached up on tip toes and gave her a hug. When she leant back she held Anna’s hands and raised her eyebrows in sympathy.
“I knew you were seeing your mother today,” Pen said. “Need to download? Have another hug? Punch someone?”
“Thanks, Pen,” Anna sighed a laugh. “Could have been worse.”
“Oh. One of those.”
“What do you mean?”
“That it must have been shit, but you’re trying to look on the bright side and not feel too sorry for yourself.”
“I have a lot to be grateful for, including you. I don’t ever want to lose sight of that.” She was in danger of spiralling down and glad Penny had invited herself over. Her friend stretched up and gave her another hug and it was what she needed.
After a good squeeze Pen said, offhand, “Well, if it wasn’t so bad, how about you make me a coffee?”
“Trying to keep me occupied?”
“No, just bloody lazy.”
Anna let her go. “Fine, you indolent oaf, I’ll get you a coffee.”
She turned the radio lower so that she could hear Penny speak over the background noise of sheep in the countryside and filled the kettle. When she leant back on the kitchen top to chat she found Penny perched on a stool, her body rigid and a tense expression on her face. Pen was particularly attentive today and Anna wondered why. It seemed silly. Anna had been robust for months and with the treat of meeting Jess recently, she hadn’t felt better in years.
“I’m fine,” Anna said with a smile.
“You’re never fine after seeing your mother and neither should you be. The woman could undermine the pope’s confidence and sense of place in the world.”
“I’m OK,” Anna replied, but at the same time she crossed her arms and wished she didn’t feel like someone had minced up her insides and jumped up and down on them while making her watch, utterly pathetic at being able to do nothing about it. “Really,” Anna said with a smile at Penny who watched her like a hawk. “I’m good.”
Penny’s shoulders relaxed, a little. “OK,” she sighed, and she shuffled, getting comfortable on her stool. “Go on then. Tell me, how is the vicious old bag?”
“Pen!” Anna tutted out a laugh. “She is still my mother.”
“Are you sure though? You could get a DNA test then disown her if the results are favourable.”
“I have her arms apparently.”
“Well give them back and be done with her.”
Anna sniggered. It was one of the things she loved about Penny – she said out loud Anna’s worst thoughts so that she didn’t have to feel bad about them. It was always her first step to being able to think about her mother with any equanimity.
“Were the ugly sisters there?”
And Anna smiled again at Penny’s name for her brother and sister.
“No. Celeste is in Edinburgh more than London these days and Sebastian’s time is planned to the minute and full until Christmas.”
“That was a blessing at least,” Penny snapped.
“Thank you,” Anna said.
“For what?”
“Bitching on my behalf.”
Penny giggled at last. “That’s what friends are for. Now where’s my coffee?”
Anna poured two mugs and filled a beaker of milk for Bibs and sliced some apple. She handed the toddler a bowl on the rug. “There you go, lovely,” she said, leaning down, and Bibs reached up to hold Anna’s cheeks. “Banna,” she said, then was distracted by the fruit and began gnawing at a slice.
“She’s quiet,” Anna said, shuffling onto a stool beside Pen.
“Teething I think. Her cheeks are rosy and she’s chewing absolutely bloody everything. I thought having pets was bad, but I’ve got tiny human teeth marks on the corner of all the books.”
Anna smiled, still raw from meeting her mother and grateful for their company.
Penny started talking but Anna was distracted by the radio. The agriculture magazine had finished and the programme had changed to a culture show.
“That’s strange,” Anna said. “That sounded like Jess.”
“What’s that?” Penny sat up.
“On the radio.”
They both listened a moment. The presenter was talking. “That was Jessica Lambert at the French premiere of the latest Atlassia film…”
“Oh,” Anna said. “I probably just caught the name Jessica.”
The presenter continued. “…an ostensibly superhero series which has been a surprise success in the last few years, gaining popular and critical plaudits. This is what Ms Lambert had to say.”
“The parallels between our own world and Atlassia and the desperation of the character I think resonate with teens and young adults…”
“But that sounds exactly like her,” Anna said. “How weird.”
Penny didn’t move.
“Don’t you think it sounds like her?”
Anna thought the similarity remarkable with the rich depth of the voice and slips into gentle Birmingham accent. “It could be her, honestly.”
“It certainly chimed with me,” the voice continued on the radio. “Dismissing the series as fantasy belittles the anxieties of a generation. Perhaps if the concerns of the young were taken seriously the Atlassia phenomenon might be less of a surprise.”
Anna laughed. “That’s exactly how Jess speaks. Isn’t that odd. Pen?”
Her friend hadn’t moved.
“Penny?”
Anna’s body reacted before her brain made the final realisation. A chill settled over her skin and then seeped inside until she froze.
“Penny. What’s going on?” she said, nauseous at her suspicions.
