Henry got off the tube at Clapham Common and headed towards 47 Mandalay Road, just as the London commuters were arriving home and the nightlife lovers were coming out.
The pavements smelt of a recent shower, and the restaurants and cafés were enticing people in with promises of smiling waiters, warm lights and fun.
He felt anything but fun. He knew he’d hurt his mother and Ella, that he’d said some terrible things – but what did they expect?
On the long train journey up from Bodmin, he’d turned the whole scene over and over in his mind. The woman he’d met today was not the mother he thought he remembered. He had thought he would know her. But the vague memories of sitting on his mother’s lap, pointing at the pictures in a children’s book were no more. All he now had in his mind’s eye was redheaded bohemian who couldn’t be his mother.
The phone in his pocket vibrated. He pulled it out and looked at it. ‘Bugger off, Ella.’ He terminated the call.
It was the sixth call he’d had from her since he’d left Cornwall. She must have phoned every half an hour and, in between, left texts ranging from kind and pleading, to tears and anger. Meeting his mother had turned his world upside down. The way she had said so little and been so unmoved by the whole experience … She hadn’t explained or apologised for the past. She hadn’t asked him, or Ella, anything about themselves.
Selfish. Cold. Cruel. Disinterested.
And what was this Mrs Tallon-Kaur about? So she’d married and given herself a fancy double-barrelled name. Well hoo-bloody-rah for her.
A thought struck him.
She was young enough to have had a second family.
Now it all came clear to him. Yes, that was it. She had a new family and could do with some money. The old family, him and Ella, could go to hell. She done it before so it would be so easy for her to do it again.
His gut was seething. He could murder a pint. At the top of Mandalay road was his local, the Kings Head. The doors opened and a young woman in a leather biker jacket stepped out with her arms around a young man. They brought with them the waft of beer on the breeze, a waft he allowed to surf him to the bar.
‘He’s not answering his phone,’ said Ella, banging hers down on the table. ‘What a pig-headed, rude man he can be. Can you believe how awful he was today?’
Kit, rather more on Henry’s side than Ella’s, was noncommittal. ‘I think he was just being honest. It was how he feels and he told her.’
Ella was horrified. ‘Our mother was there, in front of us after all these years, and instead of making her feel welcome, he was horrible. No wonder she felt she had to leave. I’m impressed she didn’t give him a piece of her mind.’
They were in the lounge of Marguerite Cottage, sitting on opposing chairs rather than their usual position on the sofa together.
‘I’m just saying that I could see his point of view.’ He watched as Ella’s face grew darker and quickly added, ‘Just as I see yours.’
‘Do you?’ she asked angrily.
‘Darling, of course I do. You know I do. But I’m a bloke; maybe I’m not so good at expressing it.’
She pulled one corner of her mouth up sullenly while defensively reaching for a cushion and holding it against her chest. ‘Huh.’
‘What does huh mean?’
‘Just huh.’
He changed tack. ‘Hungry?’
‘No.’
‘G and T?’
‘No.’
‘Okay.’ He thought of something to say that wouldn’t be too contentious. ‘Coronation Street is on in a minute. That always cheers you up.’
Ella burst into tears and left the room.
Henry was on the outside of two pints and feeling just a little bit better, when a hand caressed his shoulder. ‘Hi, Henry.’ Soft, heavily lipsticked lips kissed his cheek. He looked over his shoulder to see who it was and his spirits rose.
‘Oh, hi, Ashley.’ Glossy brunette hair, thick eyelashes, and great fun. When he had first come to London, he had rented a room in a flat she shared with two other girls. For Henry, Ashley was the one that had got away. Maybe tonight was his lucky night.
‘Long time no see,’ she said and smiled.
‘Yeah. Sorry. Work. Stuff. You know how it is.’ His eyes scanned her braless breasts, suspended inside a tiny, strappy crop top. ‘Want a drink?’
‘Sure. A Cosmo, please.’
Henry caught the eye of the barman and shouted Ashley’s order plus another pint for himself. ‘So,’ he said, adopting his best pulling voice, ‘what’s new?’
She flicked her hair. ‘I’m modelling, now.’
He tried to make himself more comfortable on his bar-stool ‘Yeah? Given up the old temping lark, eh?’
The barman delivered their drinks. ‘Cheers.’
‘Cheers.’ They raised their glasses and drank.
‘What sort of modelling?’ asked Henry, casually.
‘You wouldn’t be interested?’
‘Wouldn’t I?’
‘It’s rather … adult.’
He felt his pulse quicken. ‘I think I could handle that.’
Her very white teeth bit her bottom lip charmingly. ‘Well, it’s for …’
‘Tell me.’
‘Underwear.’
‘Oh yes?’
She laughed, then sexily revealed. ‘Thermal underwear.’
He blinked twice as what she said sank in. She was laughing. ‘Long johns and vests.’
He started to giggle and the more she laughed, the more he laughed, until he was wiping tears away. ‘Ashley,’ he managed, ‘You have no idea how much I needed to laugh tonight. Another Cosmo?’
Ella, in bed, lay on her side as far from Kit as she could manage. She felt more lonely than she had felt since Granny had died.
Her mother was back, the woman who had deserted her before she could even remember, had come back. Ella couldn’t believe it was just for the money. No, she had come out of love – or, if not love, at least curiosity, just as Ella was curious about her. And Henry, her stupid brother, had behaved like an absolute child.
Anger infused her grief and brewed a painful stew of emotions. Why were men such idiots? How could Kit sympathise with Henry? How was her mum feeling right now after Henry’s appalling outburst?
Ella imagined how disappointed Sennen must have been in them both today. No affection. No kindness. No attempt at reconciliation. God, how awful Sennen must be feeling now. Well, she, Ella, was going to meet her mother and make amends. In the morning she’d phone the solicitors and fix another meeting. Just her and her mum. Sod Henry.
Henry was very, very drunk by chucking out time.
Ashley was surprisingly sober and realised she was responsible for getting him home. ‘Come on, time for us to get out of here,’ she said grabbing an arm and put it across her shoulder. ‘Good job I do kettle bells in the gym. Knew it would come in handy.’
‘I love you, Ashley,’ Henry slobbered. ‘How come you and I have never got it on, eh?’
‘You know why. Our house rule, remember? Never sleep with a flatmate.’
‘But I’m not your flatmate now, am I?’
‘That’s true, but,’ she sighed, ‘my fiancé really wouldn’t like it.’
‘What’s he got that I haven’t?’
She laughed. ‘You always were a trier. Come on, let’s get you home.’
She managed to get him to his front door and find his keys in his trouser pocket. ‘Here you are. Home sweet home.’ She got him over the threshold and propped him against a radiator while she closed the door. He slid to the floor. She stepped over him and went to find the kitchen and coffee.
Henry crawled on all fours along the narrow hallway towards the lounge.
‘Are you all right in there?’ Ashley called, spooning sugar into a mug. ‘Caffeine, mega dose, on its way.’
She found him on the sofa trying to turn the television on. ‘This bloody clicker doesn’t work. Bloody batteries I ’spect.’
Ashley took it and had a good look. ‘Batteries are fine. It’s just that this is a calculator. Now settle back and drink this.’
‘Are you mothering me?’ he slurred plaintively.
‘No.’
‘I need mothering, though. You see, my mum left me when I was little. I saw her today and I was very mean to her. My sister is cross with me.’
Ashley forced a mouthful of coffee between his lips. ‘Drink.’
He took a mouthful then pushed the mug away. ‘I’d like a whisky.’
‘You’re not having one.’ She gave him the mug. ‘Hold this and drink.’
‘Okay.’ He used his free hand to brush his fringe out of his eyes. ‘I think I have to apologise.’
‘No, you don’t. We all get a bit pissed sometimes.’
‘Not to you, no, to my mum. I was a horrid …’ He began to sniff. ‘I think that’s why she left me. Maybe it was my fault. Something I did? And now I’ve been awful again and she’ll go away again and my sister will never speak to me.’ He broke down into wretched sobs. ‘I missed her so much. Granny and Poppa tried their best but I felt their sadness. Why did she leave us all so miserable?’
Ashley sighed and put her arms around him. ‘Come on, then. Let it all out. I’m here.’
When he’d cried himself to sleep on the sofa, Ashley removed herself gently so as not to disturb him and went in search of a blanket. Once she was sure he was settled and safe, she wrote him a note telling him not to waste any more precious time and to apologise to his sister and mother and go back to see them as soon as possible.
Then she let herself out of the house and disappeared into the night.