Sara Foster - Come Back to Me

He leaned back in his seat and stared sombrely out at the traffic as they edged their way forward. He knew it was nothing to do with him now. Finally, after all these years, it was time to let her go.

Chloe was fed up. She wished her heart would stop pounding every time there was a knock on the door or the phone rang. She felt pensive, uncomfortable. The day seemed somehow pivotal, and she wasn’t sure why. After a weekend resting, she felt more alert, and was having to force herself into inaction. Her mother wasn’t helping. She was mostly back to her twittering self and was beginning to get on Chloe’s nerves with her constant fussing.

Her first surprise visitor of the day had been Jana. Chloe had felt uncomfortable being caught by her secretary makeup-free and wearing a grubby old tracksuit, but Jana hadn’t shown any sign of noticing, and simply said she’d taken a long lunch hour to come and offer her support.

‘My sister almost miscarried,’ Jana announced, ‘and the whole family was a wreck. I just wanted to encourage you to rest and to let you know that she now has a healthy baby – a girl – and so will you.’

‘How can you be so sure?’ Chloe asked quietly. ‘I feel I hardly dare move in case I dislodge the baby inside me.’

‘After what you’ve been through – if that baby wasn’t determined to be born, it wouldn’t be here now,’ Jana said firmly.

It turned out that David’s secretary had taken less than twenty-four hours to spread Chloe’s problems around the office. Chloe had sunk back into the pillows once Jana had gone. How was she capable of scandalising the office on a regular basis when she thought of herself as a very uninteresting person? Still, it had been lovely of Jana to pop around, she thought. She should probably give her an easier ride at work; she realised that she’d unwittingly been treating the new secretary as suspiciously as she had Charlotte, whereas she had a feeling that Jana might make a very good confidante and ally.

Barely an hour had passed before there was another rap at the door. Chloe’s heart began to thump as she heard Margaret pad down the hallway, but then sank as she heard Mikaela’s horrified-sounding voice saying, ‘Auntie Margaret, I didn’t realise you were here.’

‘I’m sure you didn’t, Mikaela,’ she heard her mother retort primly. ‘But come on in.’

Mikaela had appeared in the lounge doorway brandishing flowers. Chloe had told her about the baby scare via text, but she hadn’t expected her cousin to make an unannounced visit.

‘How are you, Chlo?’ she asked.

‘Getting there, thanks,’ Chloe replied.

Margaret had come in behind her niece, and there was an awkward silence before Mikaela looked between them and said, ‘Look, I’m going to go. Sorry.’

‘Oh, sit down, Mikaela,’ Margaret had replied, irritated, from behind her. ‘I’ll go and get you a drink.’

Mikaela had sat obediently, and pulled a face at Chloe as they waited for Margaret to return. When she did, to the other women’s surprise, she was carrying two large white wines on a tray as well as a water for Chloe.

Mikaela mutely took the wine, and Margaret sat down. Then Margaret looked intently at Mikaela, and Mikaela reddened. She was about to speak when Margaret said, ‘For god’s sake, Mikaela, just phone your mother.’

Mikaela looked down. ‘I can’t. She told me never to contact her again.’

‘Oh, don’t be silly,’ Margaret snapped. ‘She’s always been a drama queen, your mother, you know that.’ Chloe bit back the temptation to point out that it obviously ran in the family, as Margaret continued, ‘but she loves you, Mikaela, and she misses you.’

‘I’ll only put my foot in it again,’ Mikaela argued. ‘And pee them all off. Really, what’s the point?’

‘Look -’ Margaret put her wine down with some force so that liquid sloshed over the top of the glass and ran down the sides – ‘I can’t bear it any longer. Where do you think you get it from, Mikaela? Your mother is no saint; nor am I, for that matter. I ran off to America when I was barely eighteen, and your mother was barred from St Michael’s Church for life when she was still a schoolgirl, after she was caught doing something obscene with one of her boyfriends in the church hall toilets. Our mother despaired of us, I can tell you.’

Both Mikaela’s and Chloe’s mouths had dropped open.

‘Honestly,’ Margaret said, grabbing some tissue and wiping her glass, then picking it up and heading out of the room. ‘You lot imagine you are pioneers of being young and reckless. Well, think again.’

Chloe and Mikaela had watched Margaret leave, still dumbstruck. Then Mikaela turned to Chloe and wrinkled her brow. ‘That is one image of Mum that I really don’t want to hold on to,’ she said, then cracked one of her trademark grins.

Mikaela had stayed for what seemed like hours, a captive audience for Chloe’s mother, who wittered away, filling her niece in on every tiny development in the extended family over the last few years, while Chloe closed her eyes, tried to tune out the relentless voice and pretended to doze, beginning to think of ways that she might get her mother to leave, now she seemed to be getting her strength back. She definitely appreciated her mother the most in small, albeit regular, doses.

However, there was one thing she really wanted to do for her, and sooner rather than later. As evening fell, she had begun working on a letter to her brother. It wasn’t easy, but she wanted Anthony back in her life, and for him to understand their mother better too. She tried to explain everything as best she could, and, as she sealed the envelope, she hoped that was enough.

She smiled grimly as she thought of her closing line. ‘ And in a few months you’ll have a new niece or nephew to meet ,’ she’d written, while thinking that Alex would soon be the last person in her life to know he was going to be a father; but, when all was said and done, he only had himself to blame for that.

Before Alex’s lips even left hers, Amy knew he was saying goodbye. She pushed every ounce of herself into that kiss, wanting it to last forever, holding on to him, feeling the heat of him. Knowing it was for the final time.

Even though both their eyes were moist by the time they pulled away, Amy noticed that Alex’s face had lost a little of the haunted look. He was making the right choice. And, really, they both knew it. It was time for each of them to move on.

But actually walking away was never going to be easy. They were stuck now, staring at one another, drinking in their last few moments together, knowing there was so much still to say; so much to be left unsaid.

‘Thank you,’ was all Amy could manage.

Alex shook his head, his eyes still fixed on hers, unwavering. ‘There’s no need.’

Amy shrugged; then they were back to standing in excruciating silence. Before long she couldn’t bear it.

‘Make it quick, if you’re going,’ she said, trying to smile.

Alex nodded. He didn’t seem able to speak.

‘Go on,’ Amy persisted, the smile pinned to her face, betrayed by her eyes.

‘I still want to help,’ he said finally, his voice choked with emotion. ‘There will be another court case now, and you might decide you want to… you still need support…’ His voice trailed off.

Amy knew what he was referring to. In the darkness of the plane, he had asked her whether she would go looking for her little girl, and she had told him that at some point she probably would.

‘Al,’ she put a hand on his arm, ‘you can’t be all things to all people. Besides, I think that’s something I need to do on my own.’