Chapter 27
AMBER
‘Do you want me to wait again, hen? I tell you, I could get used to this personal chauffeur business. If you ever win the lottery, me and my Skoda are at your service. In fact, do you know that Skodas…’
Wiki Taxi Driver launched into a diatribe about the history of the Skoda, which was mercifully cut short by their arrival at the main door of Glasgow Central Hospital.
As they slid to a halt, Amber answered his earlier question.
‘No, it’s fine, thank you. I don’t need you to wait.
’ She had no idea how long it would take for her to find Marge’s room, and going by the people streaming out of the doors, visiting time was already over, so they might not let her in, and if they did, Estelle may not even be there.
This might be a completely wasted trip, but she had to try, because if she didn’t, she wasn’t sure she wouldn’t wake up tomorrow and change her mind about the whole bloody thing.
Seeing Ewan tonight was like throwing her brain into a bubbling vat of Sid’s favourite slime, and then watching it explode and paste the walls.
Actually, that was a bit too graphic an image and it was now making her feel queasy.
But the point was, she was confused. Mixed up.
Had no idea what she wanted or why. If anyone had told her yesterday that she would be knocking on Ewan’s door today, or trying desperately to track down Estelle, she’d have given them Calpol and told them to have a lie-down.
Yet here she was.
‘Right, here you go…’ she said to Wiki Taxi Driver, tapping her credit card against the machine, and this time giving a generous tip.
He deserved it. He’d single-handedly facilitated her crusade to sort out her life tonight.
Or to wreck it. It was yet to be decided.
‘Thanks again,’ she said, hand on door. ‘You’ve been an education.
And I’ll definitely remember you if I win the lottery. ’
‘Do you know that the lottery…’ he began, but she was out of the door before he got any further.
Dodging the visitors who were coming out of the doors in the opposite direction to where she was headed, she walked swiftly into the foyer and searched for the information board. There it was. She marched over, consulted the list. Elderly ward. Fourth Floor. Right then. Lifts?
Another scan of the lobby. Other than her prolonged visit to the Emergency Department today, she’d only been in this hospital a few times – twice to give birth in the maternity unit, once due to the unfortunate incident with the pruning shears, and an overnight stay in paediatrics, where she slept on a roll-up bed next to Sid, who’d been admitted with suspected appendicitis – so she wasn’t familiar with the layout.
There was a huge interactive map in the middle of the room, so she headed for that and tried to work it out.
Okay, she was there… She pointed to the large red cross on the board, and the cafe was there…
Her gaze went from the map to her left, and yes, there was the cafe she’d sat in earlier with Bernadette…
so that must mean that the lifts were… Hang on.
Her focus went back to the cafe and she peered intently, really wishing she’d worn her specs – she’d left them in her bedside drawer prior to the misguided sexy time with that lying twat this morning, and had forgotten to pick them up when she popped home.
But was that…?
She peered harder. Yes. It was. Maybe. Possibly. Estelle?
Leaving the map behind, she strode over, pressed her face against the glass, and saw to her relief that she was right.
Estelle. But she was sitting at a table with a woman Amber didn’t recognise: a petite, slim, striking lady, her white hair pulled back in a very elegant chignon at the nape of her neck, perhaps in her sixties or seventies, it was hard to tell.
Aw bollocks, a new quandary. Interrupt them, or wait until they were finished, or go home and forget all about this, put it down to a mental aberration and go to bed with a bucket of chocolate chip ice cream.
Bugger it. She hadn’t come this far…
Neither of the women glanced up when she pushed the door open, so she was all the way to their table before Estelle noticed she was there. ‘Amber!’
Amber went to speak, but… nothing. This was as far as her plan, such as it was, had got her. Go to hospital. Find Estelle. She should have asked Wiki Taxi Driver what she should say next.
‘Em, hi.’
Okay, not exactly profound, but a start.
‘I’m sorry to interrupt, but I just wanted to have a quick chat. I can wait over by the cakes until you’re done though.’
A sudden, violent gnawing pain in her stomach, combined with the sight of the cake display, reminded her that she’d had nothing to eat all day and she was famished.
‘No, please, don’t.’ The white-haired lady was saying now, in a voice that made it very obvious she probably came from the posh side of the city.
‘I was just leaving.’ She then put her hand on top of Estelle’s and said, ‘Perhaps we can speak again in a day or two? Please give me a call and let me know when is best for you.’
‘I’ll do that. And, Clara, thank you so much. You’ve no idea what this means to me.’
The woman Estelle had called Clara then smiled and said softly, ‘I think I do, and that makes me very happy. Take good care of your lovely mum for me. She’s a very special lady.’
‘I will,’ Estelle replied, nodding, and Amber saw that, for the second time today, her former best pal of a decade, who hadn’t even cried when they’d got to the sad bit in Mamma Mia, had tears in her eyes.
Amber stayed standing until Clara had passed her, with mutual smiles, and then sat down in the seat Clara had just vacated, suddenly bursting with something to say.
‘Okay, I know it’s none of my business, but who was that?’
Estelle wiped her eyes with the palm of her hand. ‘Erm, her name is Clara Kelaney.’
The name vaguely rang a bell, but it took Amber a couple of seconds to put it together.
‘Oh. Is she married to Sir Lester Kelaney? He was one of the speakers at that funeral I went to with your mum years ago. The doctor guy. And it’s so crazy, because it was his ex-wife I was sitting here with when I met you in here earlier. How random is that?’
‘Actually, not so random. Turns out they all know each other. My mum. Bernadette. Clara. A few others. They’re all in some sort of friend group that meets up every year on the anniversary of that funeral.
Clara just told me all about it. All these years, I thought my mum was the most straightforward, uncomplicated, strait-laced woman there ever was, and it turns out she had a whole other side to her. My mind is blown.’
‘Must be the day for it,’ Amber said, empathising with every bit of Estelle’s weariness. ‘I’ve been thinking I’m having an out-of-body experience all day.’
It gave Amber a tiny twinge of joy to see that made Estelle smile. Putting everything that had happened between them to one side, she was devastated for what Estelle was going through.
‘Me too,’ Estelle nodded. It was a brief but much-needed moment of lightness, but it took a step back into awkwardness when they both fell silent.
Amber realised that she was the one who’d come here, so she was going to have to be the one who took the lead. Besides, Estelle looked utterly exhausted, and right now all Amber wanted to do was hug her.
‘Look, I know this is a terrible time for you, but I couldn’t stop thinking about you, and your mum.
If I’m being completely honest, I feel beyond crap that I cut Marge off too after we fell out.
I was just so… Urgh, I don’t want to make excuses, but I was just so hurt.
And devastated. And truly, I’ve had absolutely no fricking idea what I’ve been doing for the last two years because I was just trying to get my heartbroken arse through every day and take care of my boys and hold it together.
I’m so sorry. I just needed to tell you that.
If you hate me, I understand.’ She paused, and wondered if it was too soon for half-jokes and half-truths.
‘I mean, it’s fine if you do. I kinda hate you too. ’
The twinge of joy was back when that made Estelle smile again as she said, ‘Completely understandable. I’d hate me too. I’m sorry, Amber. I really am. When you asked me earlier if I’d do it again and I said I would… I’m sorry about that too. I have my reasons. I don’t expect you to get it.’
‘Then tell me. Explain it to me. You might need to tie me to the chair, but I promise this time I’ll listen. It’s a new me.’
Estelle began to shake her head and for a second Amber thought she was going to refuse, tell Amber she was a cow, and leave, so there was more relief when she didn’t. Instead, she said, ‘I had the happiest childhood ever. And amazing parents. I think you know that.’
Amber nodded. ‘I do. I was always a bit jealous. My lot are a chaotic study in dysfunction, and you had Mary Poppins and George Clooney. I know those two don’t go together, but you get the point.’
‘I do,’ Estelle conceded. ‘When I look back on growing up with them, I can’t think of a single thing that I worried about, or that caused me pain or scarred me for life.’
‘I’ve got a list the length of a toilet roll, but go on.
’ They both knew she wasn’t joking. Her parents had seven marriages between them, and it didn’t take a psychologist to work out that Amber found it difficult to trust – or that she’d run for the hills when her trust was broken.
That was why she’d put a mountain between her and Ewan and Estelle for the last two years.
Maybe listening to Estelle now was the first steps of her descent.
‘Exactly. It was all happiness. Other than the normal kid stuff and the Spice Girls breaking up, there was nothing to be sad about. But what I didn’t know then…’ She took a breath before going on, ‘Was that my dad wasn’t actually my dad.’
‘What? No. How? No way. I don’t…’ Amber ran out of words, then offered a contrite, ‘Sorry. Please go on.’
‘My mum had a one-night stand before she met my dad and by the time she found out she was pregnant, they’d already fallen in love. They decided to keep me, and Dad raised me as his, and I didn’t find out until he died.’
Amber was still desperately trying to put the pieces in place. ‘But wait, I was with you when your dad died, and for all the years after.’
‘I know.’
‘And you didn’t tell me?’
‘I didn’t tell anyone that I knew. Not even my mum.
I suppose that’s difficult for you to understand, but that’s just the way we were.
The way we are, actually. We keep things to ourselves.
It’s that whole, “Lest said, soonest mended,” thing.
My mum and I are just experts at putting problems in boxes. ’
Amber realised she was missing a bit of vital information. ‘And your… dad? The biological one?’
‘Clara Kelaney’s husband.’
‘Fuck. Off.’ It was out before Amber could stop herself.
‘Nope. My mum worked for him when she fell pregnant. They had one night together. He was already married, and, from what I’ve learned tonight, he’s a serial shagger.’
‘Oh, poor Marge. And poor Clara.’ Amber did wonder if her reaction might have been different had she not also slept with a married guy this morning, albeit inadvertently. ‘But also, wow Marge. I’d never have believed it. How did you find out?’
‘My mum wrote a note to Lester Kelaney and my dad – the one I grew up with – kept a copy of it. I found it in his things when he died.’
‘Oh Estelle, I’m sorry. I wish you’d told me.’
‘But that’s the thing. It worked out for the best that I told no one, because my mum didn’t need to have all that dredged up when she was already mourning my dad.
And I honestly feel grateful that my parents didn’t tell me when I was younger, because then, maybe my life would have been different.
Maybe I’d have been different. Apparently my biological dad wanted nothing to do with me anyway, so I’d have had to navigate rejection and maybe disappointment and confusion too – that’s why I’m thankful that they kept it from me and gave me the gift of growing up knowing nothing but love and care.
Other people might disagree, but I think that sometimes loving someone can mean protecting them from the truth. ’
Amber had a sinking feeling they were about to get to the connection in this story and she was about to feel like crap.
‘And that’s my point,’ Estelle continued.
‘Rightly or wrongly, that’s what I was trying to do.
I didn’t tell you about the affair because it was over and I didn’t want you to feel that pain.
And more than that, I didn’t want to be responsible for breaking up the parents of Sid and Alfie.
I thought you could just carry on with life and be happy. ’
‘Yeah, newsflash…’ Amber said, weakly.
‘I know. Didn’t quite work out as I thought. But I hope, maybe, you can understand at least a bit… even if you don’t agree and still think I’m a cow. I did what I thought was right, based on my own experiences. But I’m sorry, Amber. And I miss you.’
Amber wasn’t sure how to respond to that.
She’d had her heart torn out. Run over by a bus.
Which then reversed. Ran over it again. And drove off, leaving her broken.
Could she really move past any of this? Find a way to understand and forgive?
She still didn’t know if she could with Ewan, but Estelle?
‘I miss you too. But I can’t be friends again.’
Estelle looked crushed. ‘But why?’
Amber inhaled. Shrugged. ‘Because I’ve just found out your dad is a “Sir”. You’re now way too posh to be my pal.’
For the third time today, Amber watched as Estelle Drummond burst into tears. And so did she.
And it was only after using six napkins from the table dispenser to dry their eyes that Amber said, ‘So now we’ve got that sorted… I know visiting is over, but any chance you can sneak me up to see Marge?’