‘We’re going to be grandparents.’ Pat beams and nudges Cynthia, obviously trying to save the day. ‘While we’re still young enough to run around after the kid. Pretty good, right?’
Cynthia wants to ask Pat if he’s ever anything less than cheerful, but now is not the time. Besides, she knows the answer:rarely. Looking on the bright side of life has been his credo for as long as she’s known him and probably longer.
‘Mum doesn’t want me to have it,’ Odette says, with another glare at Cynthia. ‘I don’t hear from you for weeks, then I call to tell you I’m pregnant and all you can do is ask me if it’s too late to get rid of it.’
Cynthia blanches, because that’s not exactly how the conversation went. And the reason she hadn’t spoken to Odette for weeks was because she was spending all her energy trying to work out how to leave a rather terrifying man without her entire life imploding.
Pat frowns. ‘What? I thought you’d be thrilled.’
‘If you recall, Pat, I wasn’t thrilled when I was pregnant at that age.’
‘But look how it turned out!’
He gestures to their daughter and Cynthia can’t disagree. She’s also acutely aware that in wanting to tell Odette that she’s too young, she’s admitting the same thing about herself.
‘It’ll be fine,’ Pat continues. ‘She’s got me, she’s got your dad.’ He glances at Cynthia. ‘And you, if you’re sticking around.’
Is she? Cynthia can’t see beyond this week. Once she made the decision to leave her husband and LA, she could only think as far ahead as seeing Odette and her father. Waiting for the financial settlement of her divorce has put her in limbo, but that’s only part of it. There’s also the fact that she doesn’t know where she belongs any more. She always thought she belonged with Odette and Odette with her, but that had changed three years ago. Of course, twenty years ago she thought she’d always belong with Pat. Life is change. That’s all she knows now.
‘I’ll see,’ is what she tells Pat.
‘How’s Fred?’
Pat has always called her father Fred even though his name is Wilfred and his friends call him Wilf. Her mother always used his full name.
‘He’s managing, I think.’
‘I haven’t seen him for a couple of weeks. Should pop round more often to check on him.’ Another glance in her direction. ‘If that’s all right with you.’
Cynthia frowns. ‘A couple of weeks?’ She has imagined them not seeing each other for years. Neither of them has mentioned the other.
Now it’s Pat’s turn to frown. ‘Yeah? We go fishing.’ He looks away again. ‘For ages now. Since …’
‘Since we left, Mum,’ Odette pipes up, sounding cheerful, as if she’s forgotten that she’s angry with Cynthia. ‘They’re mates.’ She looks quite pleased about it. And there’s no reason, really, why she shouldn’t be.
‘Oh,’ is all Cynthia can manage as her idea of how her world has worked is dismantled.
‘I’ve brought mussels,’ says Pat, holding up a heavy plastic bag. ‘Fred’ll be happy. Is he here? We’ll pull some lunch together.’
Pat heads inside the house without waiting for an answer, leaving Cynthia to stare at the back of Odette’s head once more.
‘We should talk,’ she says, her voice tentative.
Odette sighs heavily. ‘Not today, Mum.’ She stands and walks towards Cynthia, who wonders what she’s going to do.
‘I missed you,’ Odette says, biting her bottom lip. ‘And I love you. But you can’t make me change my mind. It’s my body, Mum. It’s my baby.’
Cynthia remembers a very similar conversation when she was Odette’s age, standing in this very house, probably not too far from this spot. Her mother was sitting on the couch, her hands in fists, and her father was standing behind it, his arms folded.Pat was next to her, with his arm around her waist, and she’d felt protected, safe – with him, and in the decision they’d made together to become parents.
‘This is ridiculous,’ her mother had said, her face twisting in a way Cynthia had never seen before.
‘Why, Mum?’ she’d said, feeling Pat’s fingers squeezing her, comforting her.
‘Because your whole life will be ruined!’ Her mother was almost puce and Cynthia felt like she’d been slapped.
Distress was etched into her father’s face too, but Cynthia didn’t know if it was because of what her mother had said or because Cynthia wanted to make him a grandfather.
‘So … having me and Kit ruined your life?’ she said after a few seconds had passed.
