Trio - [96]

‘I don’t think she could separate the two things,’ she said carefully.

‘Did she say who my father was?’

‘No.’

‘Never?’ Surely she would have said something, let something slip.

Penny shook her head. ‘No. He was married, that’s all she ever told me.’

She would never know, then, it wasn’t fair.

Penny had talked about Joan’s illness. ‘The nurses were wonderful, they made her so comfortable. We put her bed by the window so she could see out. It’s at the front like this room. She loved that view. It’s not a pretty place, it can be wild some nights, but she said it inspired her. I suppose she didn’t write pretty songs really…’ Penny had got upset at that point and apologised and wiped her eyes. Pamela thought of Lilian losing Peter.

‘These were hers. I’d like you to have them. And these were her mother’s, heirlooms.’ She had taken the pieces of jewelry.

‘This is the song, “Walk My Way”. I bet you’ll recognise it when you hear it.’

‘She said Marion was just a name she liked. There’s a friend in Germany too, she knew Joan when she first went to London. If you ever want to meet her I can put you in touch… Your mother died very suddenly, you said?’

‘Yes. My father too. I was seven when he died… It was only when I was clearing out Mum’s house that I found out…’

‘Oh, Pamela, it must have been awful.’

‘If I’d known…’

Maybe I’d have got here sooner, maybe I’d have heard her sing, found out who my father was, taken her sailing.

‘I may be talking after the event,’ Penny had said, ‘but I think she wrote this one about you, “Spring Lament”.’ A slow, haunting ballad. It’s May again, blossoms, swaying in the rain again, another year and still I dream. And the bluebells make me blue, wonder where are you? I’m not dancing, no romancing, only glancing over my shoulder, another year older and it’s May again…

The train entered a tunnel, the clattering got louder and the lights flickered on and off.

Too late now. Never know you, nor him. You should have left a note, something. Whatever you thought of him – a one-night stand, a drunken party… still my father. I had a right to know where I come from. Who I am?

As the train emerged she found herself blinking at the light. She felt empty and overwhelmed at the same time. So much to take in. With time perhaps she would feel better. She could take some leave, see if Felix and Marge had any plans. Sail away – let the waves rock her and the space of the sea and the sky stretch around her. Make her peace. She pulled the photo from her bag and gazed at it again and watched it blur as her eyes filled with tears.

Caroline Kay

Theresa

Theresa

‘Does it make you curious?’ Craig asked her, rubbing his thumb along the sole of the baby’s foot. ‘Make you wonder about your own background?’

‘No,’ she said shortly.

He looked at her, brows raised at the edge in her voice. ‘Not at all?’

‘Craig, she didn’t care enough to keep me, why the hell should I want to know any more about her?’

‘Whoa!’ He held up a hand to her. ‘Steady on. I just thought having Ella might make you inquisitive. Now we’re back in the UK it wouldn’t be so hard to get information. And she probably did care, you know, they were very different times.’

‘And I wasn’t exactly perfect.’ She cupped her hand to her ear, a habitual gesture.

‘That’s ridiculous.’

‘What?’

‘She wasn’t married,’ he said. ‘You know that much and she went into the Mother and Baby Home to have you so she’d already decided to place you for adoption even before you were born. It wouldn’t have anything to do with what you were like.’

‘Nothing personal.’

He frowned. ‘Why so defensive? You never used to be so prickly about it.’

‘Craig, don’t analyse me.’

‘Just an observation. Your parents are more laid back about it than you are.’

‘I’d never do anything about it even if I wanted to. I wouldn’t treat them like that. I think it’s awful the way people from really good families, happy families, go off… it must be so hurtful. I’d never do that to Mum and Dad.’

‘What if she traced you?’

‘I wouldn’t see her. It’s none of her business, my life. Nothing to do with her.’

He pursed his lips and exhaled noisily. ‘Jeez, I better change the subject.’

‘You think I’m being unfair?’

‘It can’t have been easy for her. It must have been heartbreaking, when you think of it.’ He nodded at Ella on the bed between them.

‘You don’t know that, Craig. I just think…’ Her mouth tightened and she stopped.

‘Go on.’

‘I think it was terrible, to leave me…’ Sudden emotion distorted her face.

‘Oh, Tess!’ He moved closer. ‘I’m sorry. I’ve put my foot right in it.’

‘I am more bothered by it. Since having Ella. I get really cross. I look at her and hold her and I adore her and I think that was me, all those years ago, that was me and she abandoned me. I’m twenty-five years old and suddenly it matters. And I’m so angry inside, like it’s only just sunk in what happened to me. And then I feel guilty about Mum and Dad. And feeling this way. I was only a few weeks old, it can’t have mattered really, not so tiny, but I can’t bear to think about it.’ She cried, ‘Bloody hormones.’