The Half Sister, page 21
For some reason, Kate feels obliged to pretend to Dr Williams that everything is fine and dandy in her world. As if, in not doing so, she would be letting him and his team down. They’d all worked so hard to get her pregnant, having been convinced that she and Matt as a couple were worthy of their time and expertise, that she couldn’t bear to tell him that they weren’t.
‘Something came up at work,’ she says, furiously batting away the tears that are so close to falling.
He looks shocked and Kate feels immediately guilty, though she can’t determine whether it’s on behalf of the doctor or Matt.
‘Knowing Matt, I presume it must be extremely important, as I can’t imagine he’d miss this for all the tea in China.’
Kate smiles tightly.
‘Anyway, it can’t be helped,’ he says.
A sense of unease swirls in the pit of her stomach, as she remembers Matt’s words. We will never get this time back again and we’ll regret it for the rest of our lives.
‘Are you excited?’ he asks, as he leads her down the corridor towards the by-now-familiar ultrasound suite.
I was, she thinks. More than you could ever know, but without Matt, it suddenly seems futile, as if none of it is really very important anymore.
‘Of course,’ she says instead. ‘I can’t wait.’
He smiles broadly. ‘Okay, so you know the form.’
Kate slips off her ballet pumps as he rolls a sheet of what looks like oversized kitchen towel down the length of the narrow bed.
‘Make yourself comfortable and we’ll see what’s going on in there.’
He dims the lights as Kate lies down and her hand veers to her side, where it’s normally clutched tightly by Matt. But today it just falls listlessly into the abyss before she places it down on the bed. A single tear runs into her ear.
‘So how have you been feeling?’ asks Dr Williams.
‘Emotional,’ says Kate, honestly.
‘Ah, that is a universal symptom, I’m afraid,’ the doctor laughs. ‘And how’s your diet? Are you eating any better?’
‘Not as well as I’d like,’ comes a breathless voice.
‘Ah, you made it!’ says Dr Williams, through a wide grin. ‘Just in time.’
Matt immediately takes Kate’s hand in his. It feels warm and reassuring – her safe place in a storm – the very thing she needs most right now. He looks down and smiles at her. ‘I wouldn’t have missed it for the world,’ he says.
‘Thank you,’ mouths Kate, and Matt catches another tear that escapes towards her hairline before kissing her forehead.
‘Okay, so there’s baby,’ says Dr Williams, as a beating heartbeat reverberates around the room.
Matt’s face crumples as Kate looks up at him and in that moment, she knows that no matter what, they’ll find a way to get through this together. Because now there is so much more at stake than just him and her.
‘Have you got time for a coffee?’ Matt asks tentatively, as they step out into the sunshine afterwards.
Kate looks at her watch. She doesn’t know whether she wishes she did or not.
‘I promised I’d pop to Mum’s,’ she says. ‘Lauren’s meeting me there.’
‘Is it about . . .?’
She nods, neither of them needing him to finish the sentence.
‘Okay, but we obviously need to talk,’ says Matt. ‘Shall we catch up later? If it stays like this, maybe you can get off work early and we can go up to Greenwich Park.’
Kate smiles at the thought. They’ve always enjoyed lazy Sundays there, lying on a blanket, looking down on the ever-changing city they love. Kate can picture her head resting in Matt’s lap as he runs his hand over her swollen belly – the two of them excitedly talking through their birth plan.
They’d not really had conversations like that, not since the very beginning, when they’d naively thought that they’d get pregnant immediately. Though they probably wouldn’t be having conversations like that tonight either, as there were more pressing issues that needed to be discussed.
‘I’m sorry,’ says Matt. ‘I shouldn’t have . . .’
‘No, I’m sorry,’ says Kate, cutting him off. ‘I’m expecting you to be telepathic. It’s not your fault.’
He nods and for a moment they stand there in the middle of the hospital concourse, as if weighing up the right thing to do next. Normally, in this situation, they wouldn’t think twice. They’d casually lean in towards one another and share a chaste kiss – a ‘see you soon’ peck that would send them both on their way, satisfied. But, right now, it feels as if there’s a six-foot brick wall between them.
‘Right then,’ says Matt awkwardly. ‘I’ll see you later then.’
‘Let’s aim for seven-ish,’ she says, keen to head off. She wants to be the first to get to her parents’ house to give her mother one last chance to be honest before Lauren shows up.
‘Oh, my darling, that’s wonderful news,’ shrills Rose as she hugs Kate to her. ‘Truly wonderful.’
The moment isn’t how Kate imagined it would be. After all that they’d been through to get pregnant, she dreamt of her and Matt announcing their news together at a celebratory family gathering. Not on her own, on her mother’s doorstep, earlier than she’d wanted to. But if Jess hadn’t have forced her hand, she wouldn’t be in this position.
Rose holds Kate at arm’s length, looking at her as if through new eyes. ‘You are going to make the most amazing mum,’ she says.
‘It’s funny,’ says Kate, as tears immediately spring to her eyes. ‘I’ve waited all this time, but now it’s here, I feel nervous and a little bit scared.’
‘That’s only natural,’ says Rose, as she leads her inside and into the living room. ‘But I promise you, as soon as this little one comes along, it will all fall into place.’
‘How will I know what to do?’ asks Kate.
‘It’s instinct,’ says Rose. ‘It will kick in as soon as you give birth. Of course, there will be practical things you need help with, but you’ve got me and your sister to show you the ropes. Lord knows you’ve been around Lauren’s children for long enough, so that’ll give you a head start.’
‘But what if I don’t bond with the baby? What if I don’t feel what I’m supposed to feel?’
‘You may not,’ says Rose. ‘You’ll get plenty of people telling you how you should feel after having a baby, but for some new mothers, it’s not always that straightforward.’
‘What do you mean?’ Kate asks, wondering whether her mother is about to impart the reason she gave Jess up.
‘Well, sometimes that feeling – that immediate bond of unconditional love – doesn’t come until later,’ says Rose. ‘So much happens to our bodies and our emotions that it’s tough sometimes. There’s all the hormones of the pregnancy, then the trauma of the birth, and whilst you’re recovering from all that, you suddenly find yourself alone with this little human being who is solely dependent on you to survive.’
‘Did you struggle with me and Lauren?’ asks Kate, lowering herself onto the sofa.
Rose looks away as she sits in the armchair beside her.
‘Mum?’
‘Look, this is happy news,’ says Rose after a long pause. ‘You don’t have to worry – you’ll be a natural, I know you will.’
‘So, you found it hard?’ presses Kate. ‘Was it more so with Lauren, being your first?’
‘I found it difficult in the beginning,’ admits Rose. ‘But they were different times then. Women were having babies in the morning and expected to be back at their desks in the afternoon.’
Kate offers a weak smile.
‘You’ve got to remember, this was the eighties, when magazines like Cosmopolitan were telling us we could have it all. If you weren’t in a high-powered job, with a baby hanging off your hip, and still having great sex, then there was deemed to be something very wrong with you.’
‘So, what happened?’ asks Kate, keen to take advantage of her mum’s affable mood.
Rose looks off, out of the window, as if lost in thought. ‘You’re made to feel as if it should be the happiest time of your life,’ she says eventually. ‘And for a few days it was blissful. Your dad took some time off work, the house was full of visitors and flowers and Lauren was such a good baby.’
‘But?’
‘But I felt detached, as if it was all happening to someone else. When your dad went back to work, I begged him not to go. I remember crying and holding on to him at the front door, asking him what I was supposed to do on my own.’
Despite herself, the admission brings tears to Kate’s eyes. ‘Didn’t you think you’d be able to cope?’
‘I just didn’t feel I was qualified to be left alone with a baby,’ says Rose. ‘I was scared of what I might do, or not do, whichever is the greatest evil.’
‘But you’re a strong, capable woman,’ says Kate.
‘Well, that’s the thing with post-natal depression. It’s pretty indiscriminate in who it chooses to affect. From the outside looking in, I had a husband who adored me, a lovely house, a supportive family – but inside I was a wreck who was having trouble functioning on any level. I didn’t trust myself or anybody else and I was so paranoid that I was doing something wrong or not doing something right, that I thought Lauren would be taken away from me. There were times when I thought I’d save everyone the trouble and just end it, but the shocking thing was, hand on heart, I didn’t know whether that meant hurting me or hurting her.’
‘So, what did you do?’ asks Kate.
Rose gives a little laugh. ‘I muddled on for a year or so, living two lives; the one, on the face of it, that everyone saw, and the other, that gave me palpitations and disturbed thoughts. I knew it was happening, I just couldn’t do anything about it.’
‘Did you go to your doctor?’
Rose shakes her head vehemently. ‘No, there was still a stigma attached to it back then. It wasn’t like today – when we’re all encouraged to talk about our emotions.’
‘Weren’t you scared?’ asks Kate. ‘When you found out you were pregnant with me?’
‘Terrified!’ says Rose, half smiling. ‘But I couldn’t deny Lauren a sibling just because I had difficulty coping. I had to give myself some tough love and accept that everyone else was clearly managing, so I just had to pull myself together and get on with it.’
‘And was it as bad the second time around?’
Rose grimaces. ‘Worse, unfortunately.’
Kate can’t help but feel hurt that she was difficult to love. Maybe that explained why she’d always felt closer to her father. If Rose realizes what she’s implied, she doesn’t show it.
‘And . . . the third time?’ asks Kate, hesitantly.
Rose looks at her quizzically, tilting her head to the side. ‘The third time . . .? I only have you and Lauren,’ she says, laughing. ‘In case you hadn’t noticed.’
Kate gets up and walks to the fireplace, picking up the Order of Service for her dad’s funeral. She wonders if her mother can’t bear to put it away for the same reason she can’t. As if doing so would mean that she doesn’t think about him, and if he’s looking down, she doesn’t ever want him to think she’s forgotten him.
Kate smiles back at his grinning face, knowing that the reason he looks so happy is because his grandchildren, who were cut out of the shot, are playing at his feet. A crushing feeling descends on her as she acknowledges that it will never be her children who make him laugh like that.
‘Did you love him?’ asks Kate.
‘You know I did,’ says Rose. ‘More than life itself.’
‘Were you faithful?’ Kate asks, without turning around. It feels easier not to see her mother’s face, especially if she’s going to lie.
There’s a stunned silence.
‘Why on earth would you ask me something like that?’ says Rose. ‘Why would you even think it?’
Kate’s mouth feels as if it’s full of cotton wool. This is her opportunity to backtrack. But that’s not what she’s come here for. She won’t leave without the truth. She can’t.
‘Hey,’ calls out Lauren as she lets herself in.
‘We’re in here,’ says Rose, her voice resounding with relief.
‘Sorry I’m late,’ offers Lauren nonchalantly, as if they’re here to discuss the weather.
Kate suddenly wishes they were.
‘So I’ve asked you both here because there’s something I need to tell you,’ says Rose, wasting no time in getting to the point.
Lauren and Kate exchange a look. It feels as if they’re about to find out the competition winner; will Lauren win the prize for rightly guessing that Jess is their father’s daughter? Or will Kate, the outside favourite, romp home after trusting her hunch that Jess is their mother’s child? Either way, it’s a sick game.
‘This is really hard for me, and I never imagined I’d ever have to do this, but you’ve given me no choice.’
Kate bristles at the suggestion that it’s somehow their fault that she abandoned her child.
‘Jess turning up has brought back a lot of bad memories for me, of a time that I’d much rather forget.’
Lauren falls heavily onto the sofa, as if signalling she’s here for the long-haul. Kate would prefer to get this over and done with as quickly as possible and stands straight-backed in front of the fireplace.
‘There was a woman,’ starts Rose, slowly and deliberately. ‘Her name was Helen Wilmington and she was your father’s secretary.’
Kate’s sure she’s stopped breathing.
‘Just before we moved down here from Yorkshire, your father wasn’t his normal self,’ says Rose, sniffing. ‘He’d always worked hard, but suddenly he was working all hours God sent. One night, after telling me he was staying at the office, I decided to surprise him by taking his dinner in to him.’
Kate grimaces, knowing the lie her mother is about to tell.
Rose bites down on her lip as she looks at the girls in turn, checking that she has their undivided attention.
‘Was he not there?’ asks Lauren naively.
‘Oh, he was there all right,’ says Rose, attempting to laugh, though it sounds hollow. ‘She was there too, though, and there was no doubt in my mind what she was there for.’
Lauren covers her mouth with her hand. ‘You saw them?’
Rose nods solemnly.
‘Did they see you?’ asks Lauren.
‘No, no, I got out of there without them noticing me.’
‘Did you ever confront him? Did you ever tell him what you’d seen?’
Rose reaches across to Lauren and puts a hand over hers. When she looks up, her eyes are glistening with tears. ‘No, because I didn’t want anything to change. You have to understand; I loved your father with all my heart, and I knew that if I told him what I’d seen, things would never be the same again. I didn’t want that for our family – it was too important to me. It’s still important to me.’
Rose looks sadly around the place they’d called home for almost a quarter of a century. The peach-coloured front room, with its mahogany units displaying porcelain figurines, is a little dated, but it has been beautifully kept.
Kate remembers the Saturday mornings when her mother would be hoovering along to Radio 2 as she and her father ran in from the garden, both of them wearing muddied boots and even dirtier grins.
‘Don’t you be coming through here with all that mud on you,’ Rose had cried, as Kate and her father looked at each other conspiratorially and giggled.
Had he been seeing another woman, then? Making a child with her? Kate refuses to believe it, yet tears still spring to her eyes.
‘I’m sorry,’ says Rose. ‘I would never want you to think badly of your dad, but you’ve given me no choice. You wouldn’t let it drop – you’ve forced my hand.’
‘So, you think Jess is Helen Wilmington’s daughter?’ asks Lauren.
‘I hope so,’ says Rose, ‘Because if she’s anybody else’s then I’ve been far more naive than I would care to admit.’
Lauren is wide-eyed as a thought occurs to her. ‘Do you know where she is now? Perhaps Jess can track her down and be reunited with her mum.’
Rose looks down, picking at the tissue she’s holding in her lap. ‘I heard she died,’ she says quietly. ‘About four years ago.’
‘Why didn’t you tell us all this when Jess first turned up?’ asks Kate.
‘Because . . . because I didn’t want you to hate your father,’ cries Rose.
Kate feels winded. She could never hate her father, no matter what lies her mother told. It takes all her willpower not to applaud her stellar performance.
‘How long did it take you to come up with this story?’ she asks.
Lauren gasps at her sister’s audacity. ‘Kate!’
Kate turns to face Lauren, her features hardened. ‘Before you jump on the bandwagon, why don’t you ask Mum about the baby mementoes that I found in the loft?’
Rose’s eyes widen, but she quickly pulls herself back together, presenting the pitiful face of the grieving widow again.
‘What baby mementoes?’ asks Lauren, looking from Kate, to their mother, and back again.
‘Do you remember, Mum?’ asks Kate. ‘Do you remember the little pink sleepsuit and teddy bear?’
A look of utter panic descends on Rose’s face as she gets up from her chair, brusquely shaking her head from side to side. ‘No, no,’ she says, one too many times – each denial countered by Kate’s resolute belief that she’s lying. ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about.’
‘Sure you do,’ says Kate confidently, though inside her stomach is in knots. ‘I showed them to you, and you promptly threw them in the bin.’
Rose lets out a strangled guffaw. ‘I really don’t remember that. Are you sure you didn’t dream it?’
‘I’m sure,’ mutters Kate, cocking her head.
‘Well, perhaps you imagined it. You always had such an overactive imagination when you were little.’
‘You haven’t even asked me how old I was at the time.’
