Cath Staincliffe: Trio

He could sense the tension in her. Even though she returned his smiles and made small talk, asking how the site meeting had gone, he could read the signs. Eyes slightly guarded, the set of her shoulders, the extra precision with which she cut up her food. As if control was in the detail, the banal. And she had taken off this afternoon.

He wouldn’t press her, she would confide in him if and when she was good and ready. Any enquiry he made would be met with a dismissive shrug followed by brighter smiles and further withdrawal. It was a game of suspense. He reminded her that Davey was taking the transit, he wanted to collect some parts for the old motorcycle he was fixing up.

‘I’m going into town tomorrow,’ she said. ‘Dentist. This crown’s bothering me again.’

Perhaps that was it. She loathed the dentist.

Kay

‘It’s bloody awful timing,’ Kay told her friend, Faith, who was sitting beside her hospital bed. ‘I want to support her, I have to. But if I’m honest I just wish…’ she let her hands play along the edge of the sheet.

‘What?’

She glanced away, uncertain whether to continue, her mouth pulling with emotion.

Theresa had rung Kay a week before after another session with the intermediary. ‘I’ve been a secret all this time. So she said that she couldn’t see me but Helen says that often changes, that if you don’t push too hard they often decide to tell their family. She passed on my letter and she was really pleased to have it.’

Kay had held the phone, not trusting herself to say much. Theresa was so bound up in this business, it dominated everything. It was like she was in love or something, she couldn’t think about anything else, anyone else. She was frightened of rejection but desperate to meet Caroline. Kay was expected to listen and love and support her every inch of the way when Kay wanted to explode with worry and hurt.

‘I’m not going to sleep,’ Theresa said, ‘my mind’s just full of it.’

You’re not the only one, thought Kay.

‘I’d better go collect Ella. Oh, Mum, what will I do if she doesn’t want to see me? I couldn’t bear it.’

Kay tried to sound bright. ‘Given time, I’m sure she will.’ She had closed her eyes and leaned her head back against the wall.

‘Kay?’ Faith prompted her.

‘I’ve dreaded this. Oh, I can be rational and understanding till I’m blue in the face about her right to know and how Adam and I are the parents who raised her and loved her and… but I’m frightened she’ll walk away, fall in love with this stranger who just happens to be her blood mother and that’ll be us done with.’ She tore at a paper napkin as she talked, shredding it and rolling the pieces into tight balls. ‘I keep imagining them meeting and it… it makes me sick to the stomach. I’m jealous, Faith, I know that’s ridiculous but that’s what I feel. And on top of all this there’s this operation and, God,’ she hissed, ‘I feel so bloody hateful. I keep hoping she’ll turn out to be a horrible person and Theresa will never want to see her again.’

‘It’s only natural.’ Faith reached out to touch her arm. ‘Anyone in your position would feel the same. Have you said anything to Theresa?’

‘A little. But how can I, really? I’ve talked about what an upheaval it’s been and that her father and I have worries but we love her and she has to do what’s best for her. Adam never says much about his feelings but then she hasn’t discovered a birth father, he doesn’t have a rival in that sense.’

Kay had spoken to Adam on the phone about it. It was easier than meeting. They saw each other still on family occasions, Ella’s birthday had been the last time. He had a new partner, Karen, but at least he had the tact not to bring her along – yet. It hadn’t taken him long to find someone. Maybe he had her lined up, ready and waiting. Kay dreaded the prospect of meeting her. And she resented the fact that even now what Adam did could still hurt her so. It was as if the scars had never healed properly. Or perhaps she still loved him.

‘I never really expected this. I know I always told them they could search for their parents if they wanted to but… when we adopted Theresa, and the others, that was supposed to be it. Legally ours, no redress. Like it or lump it. It was a promise. Now it’s all changed and it feels like that promise has been… dishonoured. I just wish it was all over. But I was thinking this morning, it can’t be the same, whether Theresa meets her or not or sees her once and never again there'll always be that woman there… oh, it sounds so awful.’

‘You’re the ones who raised her and you and Theresa are close. I’m sure it will be all right.’

Kay stretched, winced at the pain.

In the days immediately after the operation she had found herself angry with her body. At the womb that had never held a child and then caused her such pain. Its removal felt like a symbol writ large – she had been barren before but now there could be no late miracle to affirm her womanhood. She had been surprised at such thoughts and depressed by them. What did it really matter? But in those bitter moments she counted her regrets rather than her blessings. All the things she had never had: the swelling of her stomach month by month, the twisting of a child inside her, the magic of birth, the feel of a new born in her arms, breast feeding. Not being able to look at her children and see herself in them, her own parents in them, gestures, the way they walked.

And now Theresa was likely to meet the woman who had all that. Birth mother. Caroline. And Kay felt pierced and ugly and spent and miserable. It was truly lousy timing.

‘I’d better go,’ Faith said. ‘They’ll let you home tomorrow, yes? Shall I pick you up?’

‘Theresa’s offered.’

‘OK. I’ll call round. Let me know if you need any shopping or anything. Remember, no lifting.’

Faith turned back to her. A good friend, so important. ‘What about a holiday? We could go away.’

She looked at her askance, peering over the top of her glasses.

‘No, really.’ She smiled. ‘Do something for ourselves. You and me, free woman now. Once you’re feeling better.’

She couldn’t imagine feeling better.

‘I’ve always fancied the States,’ Faith said.

‘Christ, Faith. I was imagining Devon.’ Faith had holidayed there for years. The odd trip to Brittany. No further afield with three children.

‘The States?’ Kay repeated.

‘Yep. Well, where would you go?’

‘I don’t know,’ she considered, her mind flicking through continents and countries. ‘Egypt.’

‘Egypt!’

‘Yes,’ she smiled.

‘OK.’

‘OK, what?’

‘Egypt, this year, the States the next.’

Kay grinned. Why the hell not? It wouldn’t change everything else but it wouldn’t make it worse. And after all it was about time she saw something of the planet.

Caroline

She had written again and Theresa had replied again. More photos. Wonderful pictures of her with her husband and Ella, the little girl. Her grand-daughter. They were worried about Ella. Theresa had asked Helen to find out about the family medical history. Caroline didn’t know of anything like epilepsy in her background and she didn’t remember anything like that about the Colbys. There was a picture of Ella as a newborn and she looked just like Theresa had. She had put everything with her stones, hidden away.

She had spent two hours with Helen in London. Once she started talking she couldn’t stop, an avalanche. She had told her everything. About the breakdowns, about the night they caught her trying to run away with her baby. The memories so vivid they were like flashbacks and the feelings so strong she got in a right state but Helen was very good about it.