Mindsight (6 page)

‘Come on, just one. I’m feeling really jittery. And I owe you one for putting up with him without calling the police.’

I didn’t tell her there was no chance I’d ever do that, but I felt jittery too. It might do me good to relax for a bit and talk to someone who knew nothing about my past. I grabbed my keys from beside the door. ‘OK.’

Nicola’s flat was a messier mirror image of mine. She gestured to me to sit on the red sofa covered in crumpled cushions and called from the kitchen. ‘White wine OK for you?’

‘Thanks.’

She handed me a large glass filled to the top. The first sip made me feel calmer and I leaned back, while Nicola perched on the edge of the matching armchair. ‘This is nice,’ she said. ‘I don’t sleep well anyway, what with sharing the bedroom with Molly and worrying he might turn up in the middle of the night.’ She must have seen something in my expression because she flushed and took a deep drink. ‘Don’t get me wrong, Clare, he really isn’t violent, just a fucking nuisance – pardon my language.’

‘Is he Molly’s dad?’

‘Yeah, and she loves him so much. Kids need their dads, don’t they? So I can’t cut him out of our lives altogether. It’s just when he’s had a skinful or been on the skunk or something stronger.’

I smiled and concentrated on my wine. I’d noticed the smell of hash when I came in, so wondered if he’d been here earlier, and come back after she’d thrown him out. Or had she been smoking too. It was none of my business of course, but I didn’t want to be anywhere near people who might interest the police or cause my probation officer to have doubts.

Nicola was talking on about Molly, and the nursery, and about her own job at the council offices. ‘Dead boring, but if they make me redundant I won’t be able to stay here for long. What about you? You said you’re at work in the morning.’

There was no way out of it. ‘I’m part time at the florist’s up the road.’

‘That’s nice. And I’ve met your sister, what about other family?’

I needed to shut this down and I was amazed to see I’d finished my wine. I faked a yawn. ‘Sorry, Nicola. I’m really tired so I’d better try to get a few hours’ sleep. Thanks for the drink.’

She followed me to the door. ‘No, thank you, babe. Let’s get together again soon, eh?’ As I reached my door she stayed watching me then leaned out, pointing to a small table by the main door. ‘Hey, I’ve just thought. Are you Clare Glazier?’

I swallowed,
oh God she’d guessed
, but before I could speak she’d picked up an envelope from the table. ‘Mrs C Glazier,’ she read. ‘Sorry I put it there yesterday. It’s where we leave the mail. Didn’t realise that was your surname.’ My smile must have made my feelings obvious. ‘Good news?’ Nic said.

‘Yes, it’s from an old friend.’ I knew the distinctive hand at once and my heart lifted. Lorna – my godmother. Of course, I knew she’d be in touch.

I thanked Nicola and went back into the flat, ripping the envelope apart before I was even through the door. As always, the paper smelled of Lorna’s perfume, mingled, it seemed to me, with a waft of fresh air from her garden. She was the only one, apart from Alice, I’d let visit me in prison. She was a real old-fashioned letter writer and I’d treasured every one of her notes and cards, as well as the long letters she sent when she knew I was in need of something more.

This was quite short, although set out as perfectly as ever and I smiled, remembering how she always insisted personal letters must be handwritten, never word processed, and there was no excuse for slapdash presentation even in a casual note.

Dearest Clare,

I’m so happy to know you’re back in the land of the living with us and I can’t wait to see you.

It’s going to be difficult for you, I know that, but don’t forget I’m here whenever you want to see me. I’m not too decrepit to travel, so I can come to you, if that’s what you would prefer. Call me to arrange something soon, and remember there are lots of people out here who are on your side.

With fondest love from,

Your fairy godmother, Lorna.

My parents were atheists so I didn’t have a real godmother, but at eight years old, at a C. of E. school with a High Church ethos, I got religion. I never went so far as to demand to be baptised, but when I heard about godparents I nominated Lorna. It was her idea to call herself my
fairy
godmother.

Lorna worked with Dad. He called her his secretary, but she was much more than that. Mum was often ill, so Lorna organised much of our home life too. Next to my dad, she was the person I loved most in the world, and after the accident I knew, in spite of everything, she would stand by me.

When I ran away from home and was living rough I sometimes went to Lorna. She would let me have a bath while she washed and dried my clothes. Then she’d feed me and sometimes persuade me to stay the night.

As always her words came at just the right time, and she’d added her mobile number too, so I texted her straight away.

So good to hear from you. I’m fine. I’d love to see you soon. Working this morning, but will give you a ring asap. XXXX

I switched on the TV, curled up on the sofa, and dozed till it was time to shower and dress for work.

I was swallowing some toast and coffee when the phone rang. I let the machine answer, expecting it to be Nicola for some reason.

‘Clare, my love, I just got your text…’

I grabbed up the handset. ‘Lorna, oh thank you for calling.’ I explained I was working that morning and couldn’t talk for long and, as usual she read my thoughts. ‘But you’d like to see me. Well how about this afternoon? I’m free as a bird and I’d love a jaunt down to the seaside. I’ll come on the train. Not sure about times, but I’ll try to get there for about 1.30. Meet me at the station and I’ll buy you lunch.’

Somehow, just the thought of seeing Lorna meant that, despite everything, I didn’t find the morning too difficult. Stella and Harriet left me in charge of the shop, as they made up bouquets and Stella drove back and forth with deliveries. The open back door allowed splashes of sunlight to fall on the counter, and the warm breeze carried the scent of flowers and the murmur of their voices into the shop.

There were plenty of customers, but they all seemed so absorbed in their own business that they hardly seemed to notice me. I was very glad about that, and I had no time, either, to worry about making mistakes. The morning passed quickly and Stella seemed happy enough too, laughing that, if I could cope with a summer Saturday morning, then I could cope with anything.

Outside, as the sun shone down on me, I almost felt ordinary again: someone with a job, a home, and a friend to meet. Even the calling seagulls seemed tuneful, and I stood for a moment breathing deeply, my knees a little wobbly with something close to happiness.

Down at the seafront the water shone like crinkled foil. The clear air showed me Bexhill a few miles down the coast and, further away still, the white cliffs of Beachy Head near Eastbourne. I felt I could easily have walked there.

Lorna was standing outside the station. I hadn’t seen her for a few months because she was having trouble with her knee and needed an operation. Knowing I’d soon be out, we’d agreed she wouldn’t keep doing the journey to the prison, and I was shocked to see how much she had aged. She was as neat and elegant as ever, but although her eyebrows were still dark, her hair, twined into a gleaming knot, was streaked with grey. She patted it as she caught me looking. ‘You have to stop dyeing it at some point, you know.’

‘It suits you.’

She smiled; her face a spider’s web of tiny lines. Though she was still slender, I noticed she breathed heavily as we wandered down to the Old Town. It was obviously not easy for her to walk, but she insisted she was fine. At the little tapas bar we chose for lunch she exclaimed, ‘My goodness, Clare, it’s so cheap! I hardly ever eat out in London anymore. All the places I used to love are out of my league now.’

Lorna ordered a bottle of wine and as I sipped I felt a shiver of anxiety. When I was living rough, I’d spent plenty of time out of it on cider or cheap vodka, but once I straightened myself out, got married and had the twins, I found it easy enough to drink sensibly. But I’d been happy then. There had been times in prison when I’d longed to get smashed out of my skull, to forget everything for an hour or so, and the way my life was at the moment I knew I should be careful – I’d drunk too much wine in the last day or so and enjoyed it too much.

Lorna nibbled an olive and looked at me with dark eyes that sparkled as brightly as ever. ‘And how are you, sweetheart? You look thinner, but…’ she held up a blue-veined hand, a large gold bangle encircling the elegant wrist, ‘…it suits you. Just don’t go too far will you?’

‘I won’t.’

She smiled up at the waitress unloading the little dishes of food, then said a warm, ‘Thank you’. Lorna always gave her full attention to anyone she was with, whether it was an important client of the firm or the scruffy little girl I had been. Now she turned the full beam onto me. ‘So what do you think of your handsome son?’ She forked a few slices of tomato and chorizo onto her plate and began peeling a prawn, leaving the words to do their work, but I was wise to her technique and in any case I didn’t want to keep anything from her.

‘Oh he’s wonderful, and you were right all along. I should have let him visit me. I was so stupid.’

She smiled. ‘I’m not going to argue with you there, but you’ve spent enough time letting past mistakes get in your way. I think you owe it to Tom to start afresh.’

‘The problem is he doesn’t want to believe I was to blame for the accident.’

‘Don’t forget, it took you a long time to come to terms with it, and Tom’s still very young. You have to help him.’

‘That’s what Alice says, and I’m beginning to think the only way is to try to find out the whole, ugly truth myself.’

‘Regain your memory, you mean?’ She placed the piece of bread she had been eating, very carefully, on her plate, and looked at me. ‘Is it possible after all this time?’

‘Apparently it can happen. The doctors say this kind of amnesia is sometimes a way for the mind to protect itself from something traumatic – something that’s too painful to face.’

‘Do you have any memories at all?’

‘I have dreams that seem to have something to do with it. A dark road and trees, a flash of light, clouds spinning, flames and… oh I don’t know, it may all be something my mind has put together from what I’ve heard since.’

Lorna drank some wine, looking around the little restaurant at the rough white walls covered in Spanish-style plates and bright paintings. She turned back to me. ‘So what are you going to do?’

‘I think I have to go back to where it happened. To see if anything sparks.’

‘And see Emily and Matt?’

‘I’ll have to. Although, it’s not going to be easy to talk about the accident with them.’

She touched the coil of hair at the nape of her neck. ‘You do realise that delving into the past may only mean more pain and guilt?’

I couldn’t answer.

Lorna wiped her hands and scrunched up her napkin. ‘Come on, I’ll pay for this if you make me coffee at your flat.’

We walked slowly, without talking. Lorna was limping quite badly, although she said she was fine. I could only hear those words of hers:
more pain and guilt,
over and over in my head
.
That was what I feared so much; that I would find out something even worse than I knew already. Not just that I had taken the speed deliberately, but that I had wanted to harm my family. If I had, then that would be the end. I could never try to be a real mother to Tommy again if I knew he might not be safe with me. And I couldn’t bear to live if he had to know that.

‘And what about Alice? How’s it going with her?’ Lorna asked.

I pointed to a bench and Lorna headed towards it. ‘Yes, let’s sit for a minute. This wretched knee.’ I was aware of her twisting to face me. ‘So, you and Alice? Are you getting on all right?’

I looked down, fiddling with a loose thread on my skirt. ‘She’s been wonderful, as always.’

‘But…?’ The hint of a smile in her voice.

‘I’m being my usual surly self. I’m so grateful for all she’s done, but I can’t seem to show it when we’re together.’

‘Your son’s been living with her all these years. That’s something to do with it, surely?’

‘I suppose so, but I’ve no right to resent her. I mean she gave up her chance of getting on in her career to make a home for him. And her boyfriends never seem to last long, do they? It can’t be easy to develop a relationship with a child in the picture. Someone else’s child.’

Lorna rubbed her leg and stretched it out in front of her, giving me that sweet smile of hers. ‘I remember how Alice worshipped you when you were kids and she still thinks the world of you, that’s obvious. Yes, she’s given up some things, but I know she loves Tom very much and after what happened – losing her father and Toby, and you too, in a way – I think it’s helped her to have Tom to focus on. He’s been good for her.’

By the time we reached the flat it had clouded over but was still warm, and I opened a window to let in the breeze. We sat at the table, looking over the sea that gleamed silver under the clouds, the odd ripple and tinge of green like the tarnish on an antique mirror. Lorna sighed. ‘This is beautiful, Clare. Alice did well finding this place. I could sit here all day.’

‘Trouble is, I can’t afford it.’

‘What about the money from the sale of your house?’

‘That’s still in the bank. I asked Alice to use it for Tom, but she refused so I’m going to put it towards a place for the two of us, for when he comes back to live with me. But prices have gone up so much and our house was still mortgaged and I need to save every penny I can.’

She shifted and winced, then opened her bag to find some painkillers, swallowing down a couple with a gulp of coffee. ‘But Robert left you both well provided for, surely?’