Page 70 of The Temp

‘Mum, have you still got my spare inhaler.’ I can’t breathe. ‘Mum!’ Mum waves a crumpled tissue at the sideboard irritably, and I remember it’s in the top drawer.

‘Grandpa,’ Georgia exclaims, as if Dad is sitting in front of her. Clearly impressed with Dad’s philandering instead of being mortified by his unforgiveable betrayal. ‘You old rascal.’

‘I think you should sit down, Sandra,’ Daisy says, but Mum just stands there, defiant.

‘Come on, Mum,’ Zelda groans as I shake my inhaler ferociously. ‘Daddy would never have done anything like that to you. Don’t fall for her sob story,’ she says, her conviction waning by the second.

‘She’s right,’ I agree hastily, wanting it to be true more than believing it.

‘I’m sure your father was a decent man and a good parent,’ Daisy replies as I wrap my lips around the mouthpiece of my asthma pump. ‘Pity your mother couldn’t keep her knickers on.’

Chapter 63

‘Mr Gray ring any bells, Sandie?’ Daisy says, as we all gawp at her.

‘Dear Lord.’ Mum flops into her chair as if she’s been pushed.

‘Nan!’

‘Mum,’ I cry, ‘tell her she’s lying.’

‘Oh, I’ve heard it all now.’ Zelda’s face twists in repulsion. ‘Just…just get out, will you, and take your aging fake aunt with you.’ The words sprout from Zelda’s lips like venom.

‘Barry Gray,’ Mum mutters at the carpet, then jerks her head up. Who the fuck is Barry Gray? ‘You spoke to him?’ With a deep inhalation, Daisy nods. Tina confirms this, says she was there when they Facetimed. ‘What did he tell you?’ she demands.

‘He said you’d had a fling, got pregnant and insisted on an abortion. In the end, he reluctantly agreed. Shortly after, he relocated to Birmingham. Ran a pub until he retired – still there with his family.’

‘Relocated, my arse,’ Mum retorts, and I feel the blood drain from my face. She’s not denying it. It must be true. But when? How? We’d have noticed Mum’s bump if she were pregnant for a start off. ‘What else did he say?’ Mum probes.

We listen in stunned silence as Daisy tells how Barry’s eldest son, Mark, bought his dad an ancestry DNA kit for his birthday. ‘You can imagine how Barry reacted when he found out about me, and I was just as stunned when he emailed.’ Leaning forward, Daisy picks up her mug and takes a sip of tea, no doubt stone cold by now. ‘Barry wasn’t surprised when I told him my story, said you were a nasty piece of work, Sandra, with no time for children.’ The hairs on my neck flare. Zelda looks at me, shakes her head.

‘Oh, Daisy, that’s mean,’ Georgia says, offended.

‘Hey, that’s not true,’ I snap, mirroring my daughter’s reaction. Admittedly, she’s never been mumsy, but she’s not cruel. Mum always put us before her own happiness after Dad left, often going without meals to feed us.

‘Barry told me you had two other daughters, even remembered their names.’ Daisy laughs lightly. ‘He warned me not to contact you, said I’d regret it. But I was adamant. I wanted to know who my mother was. I wanted to look you in the eye, Sandra, and ask you why you abandoned me.’

Mum presses her fist against her lips. ‘Vindictive lying bastard.’

‘Lying bastard?’ I repeat, confused. Is she denying it?

‘You guys weren’t difficult to track down with a name like Villin,’ Daisy says. ‘So…’ Daisy stretches her arms out wide as if we’ve won her in a raffle. ‘Here I am,’ she trills in a singy voice. The irony in her tone is palpable, rendering us speechless.

Closing my eyes, I rub my forehead. A migraine is starting. And then I hear the sound of clapping – slow, measured, theatrical. ‘Great performance.’ Zelda’s on her feet. ‘But you heard what Mum said. Barry Gray is a liar. Now, will you please crawl back to whatever rock you surfaced from and leave us alone.’

Mum blinks and a single tear slides along her cheek. ‘It wasn’t like that. I didn’t…he…Stanley…my ex-husband.’ A pause, a sniff. ‘Stanley told me you were going to be placed with a loving family who couldn’t have children,’ Mum confesses, and in that moment my whole existence turns on its axis.

Zelda looks as if all the blood has been drained from her body. ‘Fucking hell.’

‘Mum? How is this possible?’ Did our parents drug us for nine months?

‘I am SO stoked. This is brilliant, Nan.’

Georgia’s excitement sends a crash of anger and disappointment shooting through me like a missile. ‘Oh, Georgia, will you please shut up,’ I snap, feeling a searing pain shoot from my temple to my eye. ‘This is serious.’

‘After Stanley took you, I changed my mind,’ Mum says through thin, quivering lips speckled with stale pink lipstick. ‘I wanted you back, but it was too late. You’d already been placed with a family. I begged him to tell me where you were but he refused point blank – said it was part of the agreement. Accused me of being an unfit mother – said he’d call social services if I didn’t shut up about it. Get me sectioned. Take my girls away. I was on antidepressants, couldn’t cope with the loss.’ Mum looks at me, eyes watery, and my anger melts away like a snowflake.

‘Oh, Mum,’ I say. ‘Why didn’t you tell us?’

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