Cathy Kelly - Always and Forever

‘Melanie, I can’t get over how good the girls are with strangers. Carrie particularly. When my boys were that age, they just weren’t used to people and they’d hide behind my skirt if they met new people,’ Lynda remembered fondly. ‘But the girls, why they’re regular little grown-ups! It must be being at nursery all day.’

Mel had ground her teeth at that one.

‘She didn’t mean anything by it,’ Adrian protested. ‘She’s only saying…’

‘I know,’ said Mel tightly. The memory of her mother-in-law’s last comment: ‘You career women! I don’t know where you get the energy from. I wouldn’t have been able to take care of my family and go out to earn a living, I can tell you!’ was still fresh in her mind. If Lynda was only saying , why did it sting so bloody much?

By half-past six that evening, Mel had done all she could with her hair and would have to put her make-up on in the car. The day had been swallowed up with grocery shopping, taking the girls swimming and getting everything ready for Lynda that night.

Sarah had been upset that her parents were going out, and had been miserable with her mother all day. With her tiny heart-shaped face, huge blue and violet eyes and silvery blonde ringlets, she had the look of an enchanting little angel. But the angel-face hid fierce determination to have her own way in everything and, at the age of four and a quarter, she was well on the way to being empress of the Redmond household. Mel had read all the books on how to cope with strong-willed children and had finally come to the conclusion that none of the childcare experts had ever met anyone like her daughter.

At least swimming had tired her out, Mel thought, rapidly pulling on her long black evening dress, the one that could almost go to the ball by itself, it had been to so many work parties. Standing in the pool, holding Carrie up, had tired her out too. Downstairs, Beauty and the Beast was in the video, ready to go. Two chicken breasts in garlic and wild mushroom sauce sat in a dish on the kitchen counter with a bowl of baby potatoes beside them, waiting to be warmed up for Lynda’s dinner. A joint of lamb was marinating in fresh rosemary and olive oil in the fridge for tomorrow, because Lynda stayed over till the following evening if she babysat and she was partial to a proper Sunday dinner. The spare bed was freshly made up with lilac sheets and Mel had even managed to iron the duvet cover, something she didn’t do for herself and Adrian. The soft sheets on Sarah’s bed and on Carrie’s cot had been changed, and all their favourite cuddly toys were lined up in their correct places. Mel had left the thermometer and the children’s paracetamol on top of the bathroom cabinet, too high for the children to reach but where Lynda could get them in an emergency, and the phone number of the local doctor and the venue for tonight’s party were both written in big writing – Lynda was half blind without her glasses – beside the phone.

Surely Lynda would have no excuse to think that Mel’s going out to work meant the family suffered.

‘We’re going to have a lovely time tonight,’ Lynda cooed to her two grandchildren, who sat snuggled up beside her on the couch, cosy in their pyjamas and ready for fun with Granny Lynda.

Lynda had brought sweets with her, the sort of sugar-laden confections that were banned in the household because they made both children hyper. Mel knew she couldn’t say anything.

Adrian, looking less pale, walked in finishing a biscuit. There was dinner tonight but what with the drinks reception first, who knew when they’d get a bite to eat. He was wearing a black fine wool suit with a silvery grey shirt that brought out the blue of his eyes. He looked great. ‘Will you miss Daddy?’ asked Adrian, quickly scooping Sarah up from the couch and turning her upside down, a game she’d loved since she was a baby.

‘Yes,’ giggled Sarah, trying to pull her long fair hair away from her face.

‘No, really?’ demanded Adrian, bouncing her up and down.

‘Yes!!’ she squealed with delight, loving being bounced. She had no fear of anything, Mel knew.

‘Me, me!’ yelled Carrie, her fat baby cheeks rosy with excitement. She looked like a mini version of her sister, without the stubborn chin.

More like our side of the family, Lynda said sometimes, and Mel took that to mean the stubborn streak in Sarah had come from her and was, therefore, not approved of.

‘We should go,’ Mel said automatically.

The fun seemed to stall for a moment. Sarah, still upside down, gazed at Mel with those knowing eyes as if to ask why her mother had to ruin it all.

Because there isn’t enough time in the day, Mel wanted to scream. Somebody has to keep it all running on schedule. Imagine what would happen if she didn’t keep them all to time.

Adrian put Sarah down and then quickly bounced Carrie a few times to keep the peace, before popping her back beside her grandmother.

‘Be good for Granny,’ Adrian told both his daughters, who smiled adoringly at him as if to imply that they didn’t know the meaning of the word naughty.

‘Bye, Carrie.’ Mel bent to kiss her baby and was rewarded with two fat little hands clinging to her neck and a sloppy kiss planted on her cheek. She was growing so quickly, Mel thought with a pang. It seemed like only yesterday she was a tiny, fragile creature nestling in Mel’s arms, tiny rosebud mouth sucking on her mother’s nipple.

‘Bye, Mummy,’ Carrie cooed in her breathless voice.

Mel kissed her again. ‘I love you,’ she whispered gently.

On the other side of Lynda, Sarah now sat with a stash of forbidden sweets on her lap.

‘Can I have a kiss goodbye?’ Mel asked tremulously.

‘Byee,’ said Sarah, still engrossed in arranging her treasure, ignoring the request.

‘Little scamp, you should kiss your mummy goodbye,’ said Lynda fondly, ruffling Sarah’s hair.

‘Oh, they all get like that sometimes,’ Mel said in a breezy voice. She would not let anyone know how she felt like breaking into betrayed, bitter tears. ‘The new person is always more fun than boring old Mummy.’

‘Give your mum a kiss,’ urged Lynda.

Blissfully unaware of the pain it sent shooting into her mother’s heart, Sarah kept her head down and ignored them all.

‘Go on,’ Lynda said, half-laughing. ‘Isn’t she a little rascal? She hates you going out, Mel.’

Suddenly, Sarah looked up, smiled her breathtaking smile, and blew her mother a speedy kiss with an idle wave of one hand.

‘Good girl,’ said Lynda. ‘Now give me the television zapper and let’s watch our film.’

‘Have a great time.’ Adrian was already making for the door.

‘Yes, be good, darlings,’ Mel added as she walked mechanically after her husband, feeling her disappointment like a physical ache. Sarah hadn’t wanted to kiss her. Blowing a kiss didn’t count, not as a proper kiss. Sarah always kissed her mother goodbye, always…

‘Mel, your handbag,’ reminded Adrian, handing it to her. ‘How could you forget that?’

‘Silly me,’ said Mel, and went out of the door.

‘You’re exhausted, aren’t you?’ Adrian said, unlocking the car.

His wife sank into the front seat. As they sped down the road, she realised that her make-up bag was still on the hall table. All she had with her was a pale lipgloss and mascara. With limp hair and a nearly nude face, she’d look like she was the one with flu. But in her misery, for the first time in her perfectly groomed life, Mel Redmond didn’t care.

The event was being held in the ballroom of a posh five-star city hotel called McArthur’s, and the drinks reception in the foyer was already in full swing when Mel and Adrian arrived. Smiling gracefully, aware she must look like a plague carrier, Mel held Adrian’s hand as they progressed through the throng until they came upon one of Mel’s good friends from work, Tony Steilman, and his wife, Bonnie. They were friends outside of work too, and Tony was a person Mel trusted entirely.