Page 16 of Out of Control

There were definite benefits to Joe’s presence. Fiona wrapped the scones and dropped them into a plastic carrier bag that Dorothea produced from a kitchen drawer. Then she felt the need to continue justifying her presence at her mother’sflat on an unscheduled day. It was difficult because she didn’t understand herself why she’d suddenly had to come. “I’m clearing out the last few bits in the house,” she said. “There are boxes and boxes full of letters and cards.”

The older lady sat back in her armchair and pressed a button. Silently the foot rest rose and Fiona’s mother’s eyes closed. “Keep the ones that mean something to me. Bin the rest. Most people don’t mean those flowery words, exaggerated kisses and scrawls of ‘with love’. Don’t trust anything that people write in cards.”

True. Fiona thought about her unwritten Christmas cards. But sometimes you had to toe the line of societal norms — in the same way that you couldn’t make a pregnant woman homeless.Write Christmas cardswas still sitting on Fiona’s ‘To-Do’ list, the task rudely interrupted by the arrival of Adele. If Fiona’s world hadn’t imploded this weekend, those cards would now be in envelopes, expensively stamped in the top right corner with the over-colourful wings of an angel. “How do I know which mean something to you? Shall I bring them over so you can sort through them?”

“Dear God, no! That would take longer than I’ve got left on this earth. You go through them and pick what I should keep. You’ve got a better analytical eye than me.”

Rare praise! Or emotional blackmail to get a job done. “It won’t be soon, Mum. I’ve got a lot on my plate at the moment . . .”

“I thought you’d retired and had all the time in the world?” Dorothea suddenly sat upright, pressing the button to retract the foot rest. She leaned eagerly towards Fiona. “I’ve just remembered what I was going to ask you last time you came. Christmas! Last year we went to that lovely restaurant. Have you remembered to book it again? I know it’s a bit pricey but I’ll pay my share. It would be different if there were going tobe babies and children and family around.” A fleeting look of disappointment crossed her mother’s face and then she looked eager again. “But we need to make the best of a . . .”

Bad job. Fiona mentally finished the sentence which her mother had left hanging in the air. The restaurant was booked. She’d done that weeks ago because it was so popular, plus she wanted to avoid the two of them feeling like Billy No-Mates at her dining table with only a game of Scrabble to look forward to. That was before the arrival of Joe and Adele. The expectations of seasonal jollity and inclusion meant that she couldn’t leave them home alone, but in order to do anything else she would have to tell her mother about Adele and the imminent baby. And she had to do it now in order to give her time to get used to the idea so she didn’t go wading into the conversation with size ten boots on.

“I’m glad you brought that up, Mum.” How to phrase what came next in the best possible light?

“Don’t tell me that my ultra-efficient daughter forgot to get our lives organised six months in advance?”

“I hadn’t forgotten. It is booked. But things have changed.” She took a breath. “There will be four of us on Christmas Day.”Technically four and a half.

A smile played around her mother’s lips. “Go on. I’m guessing I’m finally going to meet jolly Joe. You’ve kept him so well hidden, I was beginning to think there must be something wrong with him.”

Fiona sighed. Even though her mum knew all about Rob and the baby, Dorothea still wouldn’t grasp that it was safer for Fiona to keep everyone in their little box and to only have relationships that could never, ever send everything out of control again. “We just don’t live in each other’s pockets, that’s all.”

This time Dorothea sighed, and then suddenly realised exactly what Fiona had said. “What do you mean byfourof us?”

“Joe’s daughter, Adele, she’s staying with us as well. And she’s eight months pregnant.” Done. That was all she needed to say. The bare facts were out there and her mother could make of them what she wanted. She didn’t need to explain that there was no baby’s father on the scene. Her mother would make her own skewed judgements on that. “She’ll be with us on Christmas Day.”

There was a moment’s silence while Dorothea computed the facts. Then the old lady’s face shone with sudden delight. “A new baby on the way! Can I call myself a granny-by-proxy? That would be one in the eye for my neighbours — they pity me for not having a phone full of grandchildren photos. It’d better be beautiful, bouncy and hit all its development milestones before any other baby that’s ever lived.”

This wasn’t the reaction Fiona had expected and suddenly she felt sad. Over all these years she’d been consumed by her own grief, her own inability to trust again and therefore to create a family. She’d never thought how this might have affected her mother. By allowing Adele to stay, she was finally doing something right in her mother’s eyes. She smiled. “I think it makes you agreat-granny-by-proxy.”

Dorothea looked content. “I think we should eat at your house, not the restaurant. Adele might appreciate being able to have a lie-down — you know how tiring it is being pregnant.”

Fiona put her hand on the yellow stone hanging from the chain around her neck. She only knew the emotions of early pregnancy, not how tiring being heavily pregnant might be.

“Does he know?” Her mother had intuited what she was thinking about Amber.

Fiona shook her head, the lump in her throat blocking her voice.

“If you’re going to be a couple, he needs to know.”

Fiona shrugged again and reached for her coat. Thoughts of Amber had brought her here, but now the subject was out in the open, she couldn’t stay. And she couldn’t countenance telling Joe about her lost daughter.

“I’ll bring the cards and stuff when I’ve been through them all.”

Her mother touched Fiona’s arm. “I’ve got my misgivings but I do hope it works out with Joe. The baby might help banish your demons for good.”

A sudden thought halted Fiona at the door. “You mentioned Rob’s return last time I was here. You and his mum won’t encourage anything, will you? I can’t . . .”

“Thank goodness you reminded me. There’s a card for you on the mantlepiece from him. I think it’s got a letter inside.”

Fiona’s heart dropped like a stone. She stuffed the envelope into her handbag.

“Aren’t you going to open it?”

“Later.”Or I might just bin it. I have to look to the future, not the past.

“Just one more thing — with all this excitement at home, you won’t abandon me, will you?”

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