Chapter Ten PRESENT DAY

Chapter Ten

P RESENT D AY

It already felt a lot like routine, Madeleine’s second visit to the hospital in so many days – not that it endeared her to the place any more. Nerves still rattled her bones as she stepped inside.

She found Marnie sitting upright in the bed against a pillow pile, looking weary, but so much better than she had the previous day. It was a relief.

‘Madeleine! What are you doing here, love? I don’t want you to get into trouble. Shouldn’t you be at work?’ Despite her voiced concerns, her mum’s face lit up at the sight of her. It was a reminder that she was sunshine in Marnie’s life, sunshine that would soon be hot-footing it across the Atlantic. This thought cloaked her in remorse, like she was running out on them for the second time, leaving them all to figure out how to go forward.

‘I’ll go in later. I wanted to come and see you.’

‘Thank you, my love. Just seeing your lovely face, it warms my heart. This dodgy old heart that’s let me down a little. That’s going to carry its very own device around to shock it back to life! Can you believe that? How is it even a thing?’ She placed her hand on her chest. ‘It’s a very strange thought.’

‘You won’t even notice it after a while, I’m sure.’ She took the seat next to the bed. ‘How are you feeling? You look a bit rosier in the cheek.’

‘I’d say I’m calmer today, but so tired. Your dad stayed until the very last minute yesterday. He didn’t want to leave and I didn’t want him to go.’

‘Did you manage to sleep?’

‘Not well. Goodness only knows how anyone manages to rest in here. The strip light in the corridor kept me awake, not to mention beeps from all the machines in the ward, and the nurses, bless them, popping in to run checks throughout the night, chattering outside the door, a phone ringing, ambulance sirens ... It’s like Piccadilly bloody Circus!’

‘Maybe try to rest today, Mum. I won’t stay long.’

‘Oh, you stay as long as you want, my love. Once you’re all the way over in America, it won’t be possible, will it? So you stay as long as you want.’

She couldn’t decide whether this was offered as a barb or in acceptance.

‘I’ll come back to visit, of course I will.’

Marnie reached for her hand, their physical contact not quite as easy as it had been yesterday when the emergency and novelty had oiled the interaction. Today, holding hands was already a slightly forced thing, a little uncomfortable for her. As if she were overly aware of her mother’s hand in hers. But then, as Dr Schoenfeld had reminded her, sometimes the things that were most valuable were not always easy.

She understood how hard it might be for Marnie to settle, remembering what it had been like to first sleep away from the flat on the Brenton Park estate in her new abode with her three rather eclectic flatmates, including the wonderful Luciano, whom she had adored, her colleague from the diner who had told her of a room to rent. She hadn’t seen him for the longest time – didn’t see anyone really – with work and sleep her sole occupations. Until Nico came along. She pictured those early days in the flat on the Old Kent Road, and how it had taken a while to get used to sleeping in a strange bed, without the noises that had cocooned her every night of her life in that little room where every inch of walls and ceiling was familiar. It had been thrilling and terrifying in equal measure. A new life. Memories of her childhood bedroom were warm and cosy – the room that was now Edith’s, and where Peppa Pig was immortalised on the curtains.

‘Truth is, love, I can’t sleep properly without Dougie by my side. We’re not used to being apart. Although he did send me a text this morning saying he was trying to hoover up all the sequins that the dancing girls had left on the carpet. Just hope he gets them all up before I get home.’

It was good to hear Marnie joking, more like her old self.

‘I can’t imagine being with one person for all that time, and still feeling how you guys feel about each other.’

‘I never know whether it’s wonderful or pathetic that, after thirty-odd years of marriage, I only settle at night when I feel him sink down on to the mattress.’

‘I think wonderful.’

And she did, especially having seen the strength and comfort Marnie gleaned from her husband, the image of the two of them holding each other tight as they spoke of their fears still fresh in her mind; her mum clinging to his back the previous night as she cried her worries into the fabric of his sweater.

‘Yeah, me too. Can’t sleep unless he says, “Night, night. Love you.” I’ve heard that every night since I met him, rain or shine, in good times and bad. It’s what I want for you, Madeleine – that kind of love, that kind of security.’

‘I guess I make my own security.’

‘You know what I mean, and it’s nothing to do with money. I’ve always said people don’t need diamonds and steak, none of us do – we need love, attention, a cuddle at the end of a difficult day, someone to talk to and a place to be – a safe haven. It’s knowing there’s someone at home who worries about you, who thinks about you. It gives you purpose.’

She nodded rather than challenge Marnie with the concept that her purpose came from climbing the corporate ladder and her plans to open her own agency, which after LA would be tantalisingly close. As for having someone at home, she might not be willing to admit it, but it was thrilling to know there was a bouquet waiting for her on her desk from a very, very nice man. A man with whom, if this strength of feeling continued in the same vein that it had begun, she could possibly see a future with. Although it was far too early to express this publicly.

‘Anyway, I’m dying to know, how did you get on with Edith last night? Did you drop her off okay this morning? She’s a little pickle, isn’t she! I bet all the other parents were wondering who this glamorous lady was!’

There was no mistaking the joy in her mum’s eye, the delight in her tone, as well as the oblivious nature of her comment. She was sure Marnie meant it as a compliment, but instead it reinforced the fact that no one at Edith’s school would have the first clue who she was, and why would they? This only bolstered the idea that she had no right to be there, even if she had turned up.

‘And I have to say,’ Marnie continued, placing her hand over her heart, as though comforted by its steady beat beneath her fingers, ‘that yesterday might have been the absolute worst, with everything I take for granted thrown into chaos, but seeing you leave the ward with Edith ...’ She swallowed, as if it was almost too much for her to express. ‘It was wonderful – so wonderful. You took to it like a duck to water. I’ve never felt so proud, so confident that—’

‘Well, you might want to hold your horses for a mo.’ Madeleine removed her hand from under her mum’s. In the wake of her mother’s misplaced praise, she felt the weight of dread about having to explain that she had in fact failed again, and that Edith had not stayed over with her. Orna’s voice now echoed in her thoughts, encouraging her to communicate. It was as she was about to explain what had happened that Marnie’s phone beeped – a Facetime call.

‘Oh, look, it’s Jimmy!’

Marnie took the call, while Madeleine dug deep to find a smiley face, knowing it would translate in her demeanour, and wondering how his version of events might sound.

‘Hello, mate!’

‘Morning! How are you feeling, Marn?’

‘Oh, I’m fine. I’ve got Madeleine here!’ She twisted the screen, forcing Madeleine to lift her hand in an awkward wave; he responded in kind.

‘Ah, so I expect you’ve had the run-down on last night?’ he began.

‘No.’ Marnie looked anxiously from her back to the screen. ‘What happened last night?’

‘Edith called and said she wanted to sleep at my house, so ...’

‘Oh no! Was she upset? What did you do?’ This she fired at Madeleine, without giving her the chance to respond. ‘I can’t stand the thought of her being unsettled!’

This was how it was; her mum going from zero to a hundred miles an hour in a matter of seconds.

‘She wasn’t upset,’ she interjected.

‘No, she wasn’t upset at all.’ Jimmy backed her up. ‘Mads called me just before bedtime and Edith said she’d rather come to mine, so I nipped over and picked her up. It was no big deal.’ Madeleine loved how he made the laborious round-trip sound easy, reminded now of how he promised to pick Edith up from anywhere, any time. Lovely, lovely Jimmy. ‘She slept all the way home. And this morning she was on cloud nine. She’s wolfed down banana pancakes and apple juice for breakfast and I’ve sent her off with a packed lunch.’

‘Wowsers!’ Marnie beamed. ‘She’s having the best adventure. And she went into school all right?’

‘Yep, right as rain. Olly’s mum said she’s happy to take her home if we’re stuck on any days, but I don’t think that’ll be necessary. I can shift things around, make sure I’m there to collect her. She’s perfectly happy about that, so don’t worry, Marn.’

‘I won’t, Jimmy. You’re a marvel. What would we do without you?’

Indeed, what would we do? Thank God for Jimmy! There to pick up the pieces of everything Madeleine dropped ... And pancakes? How did anyone know how to make banana pancakes? This she kept to herself, knowing it was both mean and undeserved.

‘Oh, you and Dougie more than have everything under control. She’s a lucky little pup.’

‘Bless you, Jimmy, and thank you, sweetheart.’ Marnie looked lovingly at the screen.

‘Obviously I’ll pick her up from school from now on and hang on to her until we know what’s what. You know I’m always happy to have her. Right, I’d better crack on, but I’ll get her to call you later, Marn. And, Mads, Edith says can you say thank you to the nice man for the biscuits. And that she’ll see you on Sunday. She made me promise to pass that on, and you know she’ll check!’

‘Yep, cheers.’ She waved again, through sheer embarrassment, and watched as Marnie ended the call.

‘What’s happening on Sunday?’

‘Oh, I’m going to visit them and to collect my coat and bag. Jimmy asked, and it felt like the right thing to do, to accept.’

Especially as Edith was so keen to be free of my company last night. I want to see her before I go away, make sure we’re good. This she kept to herself.

‘Mmmm ...’ Her mum looked deep in thought. ‘You know Trina likes him, don’t you?’

‘Jesus Christ!’ Marnie’s assumption was as irritating as it was false. ‘I’m going to have a cup of tea and collect my coat and bag, not move in! And for your information, I told Trina to tell Jimmy how she feels, and I hope she does.’

‘Me too,’ her mum echoed. ‘And there’s no need to snap at me.’ She crossed her arms indignantly.

‘And there’s no need for you to make a snap judgement that because I’m going to visit Jimmy I must be interested in him! You know that’s not me.’

It bothered her that it had to be this way, the underlying tension that had the ability to flare from the smallest of embers. It always put her on edge and was part of the reason she avoided contact. At least in LA she wasn’t going to have to face it.

They both drew breath. It was Marnie who broke the impasse.

‘So, what happened at your place? Why did Edith suddenly want to leave?’

I shouted at her and put her in a cupboard ...

‘Nothing happened, and it wasn’t sudden. I think she was out of sorts. My flat was strange to her and she was missing you and she just wanted her dad – that was it. Nothing happened ! There was no incident,’ Madeleine pressed. ‘She was quite jolly, chatty throughout the whole thing. It was fine.’

She wasn’t so sure it was fine, certainly not for her at any rate, but what would be the benefit in sharing this with Marnie?

‘I guess she had a lot to get her head around yesterday. And little ones don’t like their routine being upset, not really. It just felt so right, though, you taking her. An opportunity.’

‘Yes, I thought so too.’

‘You see, Madeleine, I know how quickly time flies. One minute you were a toddler and the next you were putting on heels and lipstick, and it happened quicker than my dodgy heart could catch up. It’s the same with Edith, and I guess I don’t want you to miss a second of it. We’re all running out of time, whether we like to admit it or not.’

There it was: the regular reminder to get her act together. Although the setting for this latest verbal prod certainly added poignancy to it, it didn’t get any easier to be at the receiving end of her mother’s judgement.

‘I think it might be a bit late for that, Mum. I’ve already missed a lot. And ... and I’m going to miss a lot more, aren’t I?’ Her legs jumped.

‘Yes, yes, you are. How long are you planning to stay in America exactly?’ Marnie sat up straighter, as if reading between the lines, sensing her daughter’s discomfort around the topic.

‘Hard to say, but as I mentioned, I’m ... I’m renting out my flat and have taken an apartment, and the job is ... is fairly permanent.’

‘Fairly permanent?’ Marnie scoffed at the mixed metaphor. ‘I see.’ Madeleine felt her cheeks flame, reduced with no more than two words to a child being scorned. It didn’t feel good. It never did. ‘And what about Edith? How does she fit into this fairly permanent move to the other side of the bloody world? How is she supposed to navigate that? How am I? How are you? Won’t you miss us?’

Madeleine bit her lip, deciding not to point out that she and Marnie saw each other sporadically and both managed just fine. But Edith, that was a whole other matter. Last night had opened a door into a world that she had peered into, and she’d be lying if she said she didn’t want to visit that world more. She was excited for Sunday, possibly because it came without a particular pressure – what did it matter if she royally messed things up? She was going to be leaving soon for LA.

‘I will figure things out with Edith. It’s enough for me to know that she’s happy and smart, and—’

Marnie shifted to face her. ‘Don’t give up on her. Don’t run away. It’s not too late for you to make amends, to learn how to—’

‘Oh my God! I’m not running away!’ She raised her voice and the woman with the tablet looked up from her programme. Aware and embarrassed, remembering where she was, Madeleine lowered her tone. ‘ You never give up, do you? You never miss a chance to remind me of what you think I should be doing, how you think I should live.’

‘Because I will never, ever, until my dying day be able to fathom it, love. Never.’ Marnie twisted her lower jaw and pulled the indignant face Madeleine had grown used to.

‘And this is why I told you taking her would be difficult, and this is what I tried to explain to you in the weeks leading up to it and every bloody week since! It’s an action that comes with consequences. These are the things I’m talking about, Mum. This right here! This disconnect between you and me – the friction! The huge gap between us! The lack of closeness, the awkwardness, the pressure!’ She threw her arms into the air.

‘Don’t exaggerate – that child has a lovely life, a wonderful life. She’s happy, she’s—’

‘I’m not talking about Edith. I’m talking about you and me.’ And just like that, she took Orna’s advice and opened the can of worms that she had been kicking ahead of her on the pavement for as long as she could remember. ‘It’s easy to say it’s all worked out, Mum, but can’t you see that further down the line I’m the one who’s going to have to hash it out with Edith? You’re right – she’s a smart cookie. Last night she said I could come and live with you all, said she’d share her room with me.’

‘Oh, that’s heartbreaking!’ Marnie took a breath and shook her head. ‘Absolutely heartbreaking. What did you say?’

Looking at her shoes, Madeleine felt the tight grip of inadequacy, knowing she had chickened out, taken the coward’s way. ‘I kind of made light of it.’

Marnie stared at her open-mouthed and Madeleine was actually grateful not to hear the rebuke that she could have guessed at. Made light of it? What kind of response is that?

‘This is exactly what I mean by consequences. You don’t think there are questions building up in her mind that, when she feels ready, she is going to fire at me with rejection and possibly venom? That’s the price I will have to pay, Mum! “Why did you give me to Nanny?”, “Why did you not live with me?”, “Why did you choose not to be my mum every day?”’

‘And she’d be right! Why did you choose those things, Madeleine? Why did you?’

Marnie’s response was automatic, speedily delivered without hesitation and landed like blades in her chest. Looking down, she tried to keep her expression neutral and not react to the blood-seeping wounds she fully expected to see at her breast, as her mother’s words and the manner of their delivery wounded her as surely as knives. She sat backwards in the chair and felt the air leak from her lungs, all at once deflated, winded and sucker-punched.

‘I didn’t mean—’ Marnie began.

‘Yes, you did.’ She kept her eyes downcast and her voice low, knowing she needed to keep control. ‘And I think therein lies the heart of it. It’s like, at some level, whether consciously or not, you want me punished. Like you understand that things between Edith and me are never going to be smooth because of how we live, because of the choices I made.’

‘How can you say that! How can you think it?’ Distress made Marnie’s words warble.

‘I don’t know, Mum, but sometimes I do.’ She nodded at this truth that was as hard to swallow as it was to say. ‘I don’t want you to be upset. You’re in hospital, for God’s sake, but I also know that you’re right – we’re all running out of time.’

‘I want you to want her,’ Marnie whispered, and there it was, the truth, her driving belief, distilled.

‘And I do want her’ – she leaned her elbows on the side of the bed, and buried her head in her hands – ‘but I think that means different things to you and me. I want to see her and know she’s doing well, but I don’t need her hanging off my hip twenty-four-seven. I don’t need to be one of those women at the school gates. I don’t even know how to make basic pancakes, let alone banana ones! I’m not like you!’

‘What are you talking about bloody pancakes for? I don’t expect you to be like me.’

‘No? I think you thought I’d come round to your way of thinking when I gave birth.’

‘Maybe.’

It was an admission Madeleine was thankful for, validation that showed she wasn’t making crazy assumptions.

‘The thing is, Mum, and what I believe is at the heart of our ... lack of closeness’ – she didn’t know how else to phrase it – ‘is that you gave me an ultimatum when I was vulnerable.’

‘What the ... How dare—’ Marnie turned to face her.

‘I don’t want us to fight. I honestly don’t. It kills me. But I do need us to be able to talk about it.’

Her mother settled back on the pillows and gave an almost imperceptible nod.

‘I came to you that day, sat on your sofa, and there was no real discussion. No thought about the longer term. You were adamant. “That can’t happen! This can’t happen! I will take the baby!” You didn’t ask me; you didn’t hear me!’ She felt her vocal cords pull taut with all they tried to contain.

‘So what are you saying? That you would have liked her to go to strangers?’ Marnie’s voice too was almost strangled with emotion.

Sometimes, a little bit, maybe ...

‘No.’ It was still impossible to voice this dark thought, her truth, aware that it was also unthinkable to Marnie. Edith was not a notion, an idea, the suggestion of a person, or the dark shadow on a scanned image. She was a wonderful, beautiful, life-enriching living thing, and so how could any decent human prefer the thought of her not being in their lives ... Madeleine knew she wasn’t a decent human, because these thoughts, no matter how unpalatable, crept into her mind on the odd occasion. And that she could never share, with anyone.

Not even Dr Schoenfeld.

And certainly not Marnie.

It felt like an ugly quirk deep inside her that bled into her whole life. It drove her in her chosen career because she knew this was her thing. While other women spoke with pride about their little ones, she would have her achievements on her CV and a bank balance to reflect it, because work for her was easy, being a mother was not, and it was just how she was.

‘So then why are you bringing it up? Why mention it all? You talk about punishment – well, this feels a lot like you wanting to punish me.’

‘No, Mum. But I hate how you can’t see that you’re part of the problem. I absolutely know you have the best of intentions and your actions are rooted in love and loyalty, but you have always manipulated me to try and come around to your way of thinking, putting thoughts in my head and volunteering facts that are nothing of the sort.’

‘That’s simply not true, Madeleine!’

‘But it is true! It is! On the day I came to you when I was pregnant, you said to me, “Of course you want to keep her! It will all work out, it will. It will all come good in the end.” As if there was no other discussion, no other choice. And I hit a wall. How was I supposed to have any meaningful discussion when that was your standpoint, your default? And I needed your advice, your protection. Instead I just had to let you lead and I followed.’

‘You have never followed!’ Marnie let a small, dry laugh escape her mouth. ‘You have never, ever followed! If I say it’s green, you’d argue it was red. If I say it makes four, you’d argue for five! You go against me at every turn.’

‘That’s not true, that’s only how you think it is. But it’s not. You don’t see me, Mum! And you don’t hear me! And I’ve never felt I could tell you that I think much of what you say, the way you try to coat everything in glitter, is detrimental – like we are both reciting lines in a crappy play where none of the players has been told the ending. It’s not real. Your sunny outlook and “let’s have another cup of tea and everything will be fine” – it’s not real! It’s not helpful. It just creates confusion! Like spraying perfume over a turd in a cupboard, it might mask things for a minute, but the next time you open the cupboard, the turd is still there.’

‘I actually think my attitude makes life better.’

‘Well, I don’t.’ Madeleine shook her head. ‘Encouragement, yes. Kind words, yes. But not “A little smile can turn a bad day into a good one!” “If we wish hard enough, good things can happen!” “Don’t let a bad thought spoil a pretty day!”’

‘I happen to believe all of those things.’ Marnie stood her ground.

‘It didn’t help me, it just confused me. I wanted a better life, and I wanted you to acknowledge that it was okay for me to want a better life.’

‘We were always so proud of you – always.’

It felt like she just didn’t get it.

‘It’s not about you being proud! There was dog shit on the walkways and you made a little song up: “Don’t step on the poo poo, that just won’t do do!” And I remember Bryan the junkie passed out in the lift with a needle sticking out of his hand and you smiled at me and said, “Shhhh ... We mustn’t wake Bryan up, he looks like he’s having a lovely dream!” Did you never want to scream from the rooftops, “We’re living in a nightmare and this place is in the depths of hell! We deserve better! We want better! And I want better for you, Madeleine!”’

Marnie took her time, composing herself. ‘Yes, Madeleine, I thought that every single day, and every single day I still want to scream from the rooftops!’

‘Me too! That’s why I left, why I built a different life. And I never wanted to drag Edith into it. It doesn’t feel good, it feels the opposite of good! I escaped, and yet part of me, my little girl, is still in it. History repeating itself!’

‘You think it’d be easy for me and your dad to build a different life, to “escape”, as you call it? And actually, Madeleine, you know what? It’s a great idea. I wonder why we never thought of it! What do you suggest? That Dougie gives up his buckets and pots and retrains as a lawyer? Or maybe he could become a surgeon and we could get that villa in Tuscany with staff ...’

‘That’s unfair. I have nothing but respect for how you and Dad have worked, cared for me and for Edith, how you’ve given us chances.’

‘Really? It’s just that it always feels a bit like you resent having to come and see us.’

‘I never resent it, but it’s not easy, is it?’

‘We’re your family, it should be the easiest thing!’

‘Yes, it should, but for a million different reasons it’s not. And this shouldn’t be a surprise – I told you when you said you wanted to take her that it wouldn’t be easy, that it’d change things between all of us, I told you that. And it has, in more ways than I could have imagined.’

‘You did.’ Marnie’s tone was unapologetically sarcastic and she did nothing to amend it. ‘And you were right. So you’re vindicated! And yet whenever you see Edith, I can see you feel guilty, and whether you admit it or not, your tone is sometimes resentful.’ Marnie looked a little startled, as if she didn’t know where the words had come from, but once they were out they were out.

‘You’re right. You got me!’ Her daughter nodded. ‘Sometimes ... sometimes a little resentful, and always guilty, and most of the time a potent combination of the two. And I knew it was going to be this way, but you wouldn’t listen – you didn’t listen! You only thought about how you would make space for her and love her, and it’s like it didn’t occur to you that the flipside of that decision was going to affect me. You were solely focused on how this baby was going to fit into your life.’

‘You have no idea about my life! None at all.’ Marnie’s smile was fake, her eyes now misty.

Madeleine reached for her hand, and this time it sat against her mum’s palm with ease.

‘What are you talking about? You’re my mum; of course I know about your life.’

‘No, Madeleine, no. You only know about my life from the point at which you came into it. And from what I show you.’

‘So what don’t I know, Mum? What don’t you show me? Tell me.’

This felt a lot like progress.

‘You’re not the only one,’ Marnie began. Nerves made her words quiet.

‘Not the only one who what?’

‘I was smart. Not smart like you, but smarter than the kids in my class – smart enough to be aware of the life I had and the life I wanted and that they weren’t necessarily the same thing. But I had no choices.’ Marnie wiped her mouth. ‘And every time it looked like I might be coming to a crossroads where I could make a choice, something came along and wiped it out, meaning I could only go where I was needed or told. Firefighting, plodding and trying very hard to find the pocketsful of sunshine that you find so irritating, just to keep going.’

‘What are you saying? What do you mean by that exactly? What things came along?’

She wanted the detail. Wanted to understand this woman who was at once her mother, her protector, her saviour, and her nemesis. Marnie took a beat and the air around them stilled.

‘I love you, Edith-Madeleine. I love you. You are without a shadow of doubt the best thing that ever happened to me.’ Her voice faltered with emotion. ‘But the way you talk about ambition and drive and climbing the career ladder, as if you’re the only one ever to have thought about it—’

‘I don’t think that.’

‘It seems like you do, love.’ Marnie squeezed her hand. ‘It sometimes feels like you believe you invented ambition.’

‘I don’t think that, Mum.’ Her words were hurtful.

‘Good, because you didn’t. I was always ambitious. Always. I lived close to the bright lights, just like you, and I wanted to be among them. I wanted to—’ She swallowed the sadness that seemed lodged in her throat.

‘What did you want to do?’

‘I wanted to go to college.’ Her expression was one of embarrassment at the admission, even after all this time. ‘I wanted to study.’

‘What did you want to study?’

Marnie shook her head, licked her dry lips. ‘Anything! I don’t know. I thought maybe teaching.’ She looked down as the bloom of awkwardness spread on her chest, an admission that Madeleine knew to her mum would sound lofty and so far out of her reach it was almost laughable. ‘I just thought that if I had qualifications then I’d get a decent job, and I remember what your Granny Edith always said to me – that I’d get on in life because I was good with people, and if I got a job, then people would want to spend time with me and that was how I’d advance, and I believed her.’ She wiped her eyes. ‘I believed her.’

‘So what happened?’

‘What happened?’ Marnie gave a short, sarcastic laugh. ‘Life! Life is what happened! We were fixated on having a baby to no avail, and I accepted it. I was heartbroken, but I accepted it. Then when my dad died, my mum was already wheelchair bound, and so I took over where he left off and became her carer – not that I minded, and I would honestly do it all over again. When you lose your mum, if you were lucky enough to be close to her, there isn’t anything you wouldn’t give to have one more day with her. Even those days where she was struggling and I was tired and I just wanted to fall into bed, I loved them, I loved her ...’ Madeleine noted the tremble to her mum’s bottom lip, as if it cut deep and hurt still, even just expressing this truth. ‘Then when she got worse and there was more help available, I got pregnant with you. Which was wonderful, the most wonderful event, but it made things difficult. There wasn’t enough of me to go around, not enough of anything.’

‘So it’s my fault?’

Marnie gave her a sharp look. ‘First, this is not about you, it’s about me right now. And second, I would have given my last breath for a shot at being your mum. You are everything – everything! And then, as you got older, and Doug and I thought it might be our time ...’

Edith came along ... Madeleine filled in the blanks.

‘I’m just trying to explain to you, love, how no one gets the life they think they will or the life they think they deserve. Every single one of us has to compromise and sidestep the cracks and jump over the lava and cling on the best we can because that is just life, and you are no different. None of us gets it all, Madeleine. There is a price to pay for every choice, always. What you can’t do is make a choice, then moan about the price, because that’s just shitty.’

‘Good morning, Mrs Woods!’

‘Morning, Doctor Callahan.’

Marnie sat up straight as if in school, and patted her hair, looking uncomfortably self-conscious. It was Madeleine’s turn to squeeze her mum’s hand. Not that the doctor seemed to give a fig about the aesthetics; she was engrossed in her tablet, reading something, and only glancing up from it to smile in a practised manner. She had interrupted them, and now stood at the foot of the bed. In much the same vein as her first visit, she was in scrubs with her hair scraped back and an air of urgency about her, as if she was supposed to be somewhere else.

‘Right, we are scheduling your surgery for the week after next and, in all honesty, there is no point in keeping you here in the lead up to that.’

‘I can go home?’ There was no mistaking the delight in Marnie’s tone.

‘What I propose is that, as long as your stats hold up and you continue not to give us any cause for concern, then yes, we’ll send you home tomorrow, and you can come back in for your operation. How does that sound?’

‘I’d much rather be at home, definitely.’

‘You don’t live alone?’ The doctor scanned the notes.

‘No, I live with my husband and my ... my granddaughter.’ She glanced at Madeleine.

‘Good, right then! Just rest up, listen to your body, sleep. The nurse will explain your new drug regimen and tell you about your home visits, and what to expect when you come back in and whatnot, and I’ll look forward to seeing you the week after next.’

‘Thank you, Doctor.’

‘My pleasure.’

And with that she was gone from the room, hurrying to wherever her attention was required next.

‘Well, that’s good news, Mum. Not too long to wait for your surgery, and you get to go home.’

‘I’ve got a lot of questions, but I didn’t want to keep her. Do you think they’ll give me a leaflet or something?’

‘I’m sure they will.’

Madeleine felt the hard ball of regret nestle in her stomach. She wished she had waited to have this conversation, and at the same time was floored by the idea of Marnie making sacrifices she had been unprepared to make. It was a mess, a bloody mess.

‘I just need to know how quickly my life can get back to normal, that’s all I can think about.’

Madeleine thought about that day when her pregnancy was confirmed and knew that this too was her overriding thought. When will my life get back to normal ...?

It was probably a good thing that she hadn’t been given an answer.

Never. The response came to her now. Your life was never going to go back to normal.

The question she now wrangled with was this: did she want it to? Did she want less of Edith in her life, to go back to those carefree days when she wasn’t dogged by guilt, didn’t carry the secret, her world cleaved in two?

Marnie sank back on the pillows. The two of them were quiet, as the echo of their conversation rang around them, both taking a beat to calm a little.

‘Who is the nice man Edith was talking about, and why did he bring you biscuits?’

She’d wondered how long it would be until they circled back to that.

‘Just a friend.’ She smiled at the thought of what message of reconciliation might lie in the card, pinned to her exquisite bouquet.

The train ride up west was a nice trip down memory lane. It had been a while since she’d done it. Nothing much had changed, bar a few new low-rise blocks of flats which had sprung up along the track, packed tightly together with minute balconies barely big enough to hold a plant pot. And the towering cranes, further out, heralding the building of bigger developments that rose high into the sky. Hers was a city that was ever evolving; she wondered what the skyline in LA might look like and felt a pang of longing for London, even though she hadn’t yet left. With it came the realisation that it wasn’t so much the city or its skyline she was going to miss, but rather the people in it. Marnie was right; there was a price to pay for every choice.

Walking back to the office, she entered the building and raced to her desk, not only keen to arrive and make up the hours she’d lost that morning, but also desperate to rip open that little card and see what Nico had written. She wanted to be reminded of the good thing they had shared, wanted to feel more like herself – happy with her lot in life and with a plan laid out in front of her. These last couple of days had thrown her somewhat; it felt like she walked on a soft surface, wobbly and uncertain.

Tan waved from his desk, where he was engrossed in a call. Nadia was at lunch. Closing the office door behind her, she ran her fingertips over the blousy-headed blooms that filled the air with their glorious bouquet. Tan had been right – the composition, colour and variety had all been put together with impeccable taste. Taking the small brown envelope that had been clipped to the side of the bouquet, she carefully opened it to reveal a simple off-white card, edged in gold.

She read and re-read the message, doing her best to swallow the bitter tang of disappointment that filled her mouth.

Madam Marcia and I are very much looking forward

to seeing you soon in sunny Los Angeles!

Much love, doll.

Safe travels.

R x

The flowers were beautiful. The intention lovely. And yet as she sank down into the chair behind her desk and opened her computer, it would have been hard to describe the feeling of dread that engulfed her. The LA project was her dream, working with Rebecca again her professional ambition, and yet at the thought of leaving Edith, her parents and even Nico, she felt an uncomfortable flicker of doubt that it was the wisest choice.

That, and she sincerely hoped that she would not, at this stage of her career, be expected to take Madam Marcia, Rebecca’s new pug, for hesitant walks along the nearest strip of grass.

Tan knocked as he entered. ‘Aren’t they lovely?’ He nodded at the bouquet.

‘Yes. What have I missed?’ She cut to the chase.

‘I’m glad you’re sitting down.’ He looked nervous.

‘Why? Just say it, Tan.’ She was in no mood for games.

‘Stern’s been on the phone.’

‘And?’

‘He’s not happy.’

Not happy ... Well, that makes two of us.

This too she kept to herself.