Page 43 of Weekends with the Sunshine Gardening Society
Cynthia is sure she never looked that young, perhaps because it feels like five lifetimes have passed since she was Odette’s age. She’s changed countries and lives. Her father once told her that time can change shape and she believes it now. One year can be a different length from another, depending on what happens.
Now enough time has passed that Odette’s baby will have fingernails and eyelashes, which means it’s becoming a person. A person Odette will need to care for, who she will love as much as Cynthia loves her. That shock of recognition that Odette is about to experience the same transformation that took place when Cynthia herself became a mother is enough for Cynthia to know that as much as she thought a different outcome was preferable, what is happening now is inexorable and, ultimately, good.
Odette will become a mother; Cynthia needs to let her.
‘Hello, darling,’ she says. Because Odette will always be her darling, no matter what goes on between them.
Odette’s lips part and Cynthia guesses that she’s probably wondering whether to reprimand her for being so familiar or to call her ‘Mummy’ the way she used to.
‘Hi,’ is what she says.
‘You look well.’
Odette rolls her eyes. ‘I feel gross.’
‘Have you been sick?’
‘Not for a while. I’m just … big. I don’t like being big.’ Odette glances at her father, who has kept his body angled towards Cynthia this whole time.
‘I understand,’ Cynthia says, then she too looks at Pat. ‘So, the breakwater?’
He smiles and shrugs. ‘I like it. We can see everything. And no one can overhear us.’
‘In case we … shout? Is that what you mean?’
Pat’s expression changes to something more hangdog. ‘I’ve never shouted at you.’
That’s true: he hasn’t. Never shouted, never even seemed to be annoyed. Cynthia stood before him fourteen years ago and said she was leaving him and taking their daughter and he still didn’t raise his voice to her. Afterwards she wondered if she’d wanted to getsomethingout of him. Some sign that he cared. She didn’t know, then, that temper doesn’t necessarily denote affection; that people – men – show their love in different ways. It was naive of her.
‘No, I’m the shouter,’ she says, because that’s also true.
Odette smiles briefly. ‘Me too.’
Pat turns and looks out to sea for a minute or so. When he turns back his expression is serious. ‘I can’t have my two best girls not talking to each other,’ he says. ‘Especially when I can’t figure out a good reason why.’
‘I’m happy to talk to Odette,’ Cynthia says quickly.
‘You judge me!’ Odette says almost over the top of her.
‘I do not!’ Cynthia can hear how loud she sounds and resolves to dial it down. ‘I justworryabout you.’ Her eyes meet Pat’s. ‘It’s normal for a parent to worry,’ she continues. ‘Especially when their child is about to become a parent themselves.’
‘Wilf says they didn’t judgeyou,’ Odette says churlishly.
‘Oh, he’s Wilf now, is he?’
‘Sometimes.’ Odette folds her arms above her belly and steps closer.
Cynthia thinks back to the day she told her parents that she was expecting. She doesn’t remember judgement so much as outrage, and at that time they seemed to be the same thing.If her father remembers it differently – well, that’s how memory works. She can’t say he’s wrong. She can’t sayshe’swrong.
She takes a breath. ‘My father may not think he was judgemental. And I don’t think I’m judging you, whereas you think I am. So who knows where the truth is. But I’m not.’ Another breath. ‘I am concerned that you’ll be doing this on your own and that’s a hard, hard road.’
As I well know, she wants to add, except Odette could then say – truthfully – that Cynthia became a single mother by leaving Pat. Pat never left her.
‘Ash is still thinking about it,’ Odette mumbles.
Ash is, Cynthia guesses, the baby’s father.
‘He shouldn’t have to think about it, darling,’ she says sharply. ‘Your father didn’t. If this Ash doesn’t want to take responsibility it’s probably better that he leaves you alone.’ She swallows the hard lump of hypocrisy that’s lodged in her throat. ‘As much as I wish that weren’t the case. You deserve better.’
