Chapter 25
I glance at Julie for reassurance and then knock on the door.
We’re at Peter’s house in Fareham. It’s a fairly run-of-the-mill semi-detached, with a bright red front door that looks freshly painted.
It was Dot’s idea for me to get in touch first. She said she couldn’t face it if he didn’t want to see her.
So I messaged him on Facebook and we’ve exchanged a few messages, back and forth.
The door opens and there he is. Mid-fifties, balding, dressed in jogging bottoms and a grey T-shirt. Eyes like Dot’s.
‘Mabel?’ he asks.
‘That’s me,’ I say, stepping forward and shaking his hand. ‘And this is my friend, Julie.’
‘I’m the driver,’ Julie says.
Peter half smiles, and I see Dot in that too, and then he steps back and asks us to come inside. It’s a Saturday and there are signs that it’s a family house, but it’s quiet.
‘No one else is home,’ Peter says, as if he’s read my mind. He leads us into the kitchen and offers us seats at the table, and tea. I have to move a Lego construction from my chair before sitting down.
‘So,’ Peter says, and it’s my prompt, to tell him why we’re here.
‘Your mum and I were good friends growing up, and then we lost touch. Earlier this year, I found her again, and now we’re getting married.’
Peter puts his hands up to stop me. ‘Hang on, to each other? Mum’s a lesbian? I didn’t know that.’
‘I don’t think anyone did, love,’ Julie says.
‘So it’s a sudden thing, this relationship?’
I laugh. ‘Hardly. It’s been more than sixty years in the making. We loved each other back when we were friends, but it was a different time. We couldn’t say. So we went in our separate directions and lived our separate lives, and then when my husband died, I decided to find her.’
Peter nods, taking a sip of his drink. ‘And what’s all that got to do with me?’ It’s not unkind, the way he asks it. He seems slightly amused and very curious.
‘Well, we’re getting married,’ I say, ‘but Dot’s troubled by the way things ended with you. And I want to see if there’s any way to fix that.’
‘As a sort of wedding present?’ Peter asks.
‘You could think of it like that. The way I think of it, she’s got a broken heart, and I don’t want her to start our marriage that way. I want to help her mend it.’
Peter is quiet, and after a few moments, Julie speaks.
‘You’ve got a nice house here. Do you have a family?’
It’s clear that he does but he hasn’t told us, so I suppose it’s only polite to ask.
‘I have a wife, Maria,’ Peter says. ‘And two boys. They’re twenty and twenty-two.’
‘Oh,’ I say, gesturing towards the Lego structure. ‘I assumed—’
Peter laughs. ‘They’ve never grown out of Lego.’
‘Do they still live at home?’ Julie asks.
‘They come and go. Rhys is at uni at the moment but he’s only in Southampton so he comes home a lot, and James is living with his girlfriend, but he comes back when they argue.
’ A cat slinks into the kitchen and Peter bends to scratch its chin.
‘This is Thor. She’s a girl, but we said Rhys could name her when he was about ten and he wouldn’t be swayed.
You know, having children, it made me think a lot about how things unfolded with Mum and me. ’
‘Oh yes?’ I ask.
‘I’m guessing you know that she cut me out of her life because I stole from her.
I don’t blame her for that; I would do the same if one of my boys was going down the wrong track, like I was.
I’d hope it would be enough to bring them back.
It wasn’t, for me. I was spending time with all the wrong people and doing all the wrong things.
It took meeting Maria to straighten me out, and that was a good decade after Mum and I parted ways.
I’ve thought about getting in touch, over the years, but something’s always held me back.
I feel like there was always a kind of distance between us.
I’m not saying that’s what led to me messing my life up, but I felt somehow like she always held me at arm’s length in a way she didn’t do with the other two.
I wondered whether it was to do with me having a different dad, and him not being around. So, somehow I just never reached out.’
Julie blows a big breath out of her cheeks and I wait a moment to see whether he’s going to go on. But no, he’s finished. I don’t know where to start. It’s not my place to tell him about his dad, about the circumstances of his conception.
‘Would you be open to seeing her, now?’ I ask. ‘We could bring her here another day. It’s just, I think there are things the two of you need to straighten out but I don’t feel like I can tell you things she’s told me in confidence.’
Peter finishes his drink and I wait for him to speak, terrified he’s going to say no. That he’s happy, and he doesn’t need the aggravation. But I’m wrong.
‘That would be nice,’ he says.
We hear someone coming in the door and then a woman comes into the kitchen laden down with shopping bags. She’s a bit younger than Peter, I’d say, and quite glamorous. Tall and slim, with hair that looks like it’s just been blow-dried.
‘Maria,’ Peter says, ‘this is Mabel and Julie.’
He doesn’t explain who we are, but I assume they’ve talked about it in advance of our arrival, because Maria flashes us a bright smile and says she’s pleased to meet us, and then she starts unloading her food shopping onto the kitchen counters. It’s clear that it’s time to go.
‘Well, we’ll be off then,’ I say. ‘But I’ll be in touch, about coming again with Dot.’
‘Your mum?’ Maria asks, and Peter nods, and a look passes between them that speaks of a thousand conversations. There’s a lot of love in it, a lot of support.
We get up to go, say we’ll see ourselves out. But Maria comes out into the hall just as we’re getting our shoes on, the cat sniffing around our ankles.
‘Come here, Thor,’ she says, picking her up.
‘I just wanted to say thank you. He’s talked a lot about his childhood over the years, his mum and his brothers, how he always felt a bit on the outside.
I’ve tried to persuade him to get in touch but you know what men can be like.
He’s always resisted. But this has come at just the right time, I think.
Our boys are grown up and they’ll soon be gone, and I think he’s at a bit of a loose end.
Anyway, I won’t keep you, but thank you, and I’m looking forward to meeting her. ’
I don’t know what to say. I suppose it stands to reason that if Dot’s heart is broken over this estrangement then his might be too. But I hadn’t thought of it like that. I hadn’t thought that healing her might help with healing him.
‘We’ll be in touch,’ Julie says. ‘She’s quite a woman, Dot Brightmore.’
Maria stands in the doorway with the cat in her arms as we get into Julie’s car, and just as we’re pulling away Peter comes to stand behind her with a hand on her shoulder.
I’m looking forward to telling Dot that he’s found his way.
I think she’s been so worried all these years that he might not have.
But there he is, living a happy and ordinary sort of life with a woman he clearly adores, two sons and a cat. She’ll be delighted.
‘That went well, don’t you think?’ Julie asks.
‘Very well. Thank you for bringing me.’
‘Oh, it’s nothing.’
Julie is a menace for playing down all the things she does for other people. Driving me to Fareham and back on her day off is certainly not nothing, but I won’t argue with her. I just roll my eyes the way Erin sometimes does, and it makes her laugh.
‘I hope you know how lucky Dot is to have you,’ she says.
‘We’re lucky to have each other,’ I say, without thinking.
‘That you are.’
On the drive back, we listen to the radio and Julie sings along with every song, loud and just slightly off-key.
And when I let us back into my house, Dot and Erin are sitting at the dining table, not speaking, working on the jigsaw.
I’m almost ready to throw it in the bin, especially since there’s barely room to eat our meals without dismantling it, but Erin says we’re over halfway there and it would be a crying shame to give up now.
Dot looks up, her eyes hopeful. ‘Did you see him?’
‘We did,’ I say, and I smile at her in a way that I hope conveys that he’s well and happy. ‘And he’d like us to go back, another time. With you.’
‘Oh,’ Dot says, ‘I’d prepared myself for him wanting nothing to do with me.’
‘Well, prepare yourself for him understanding the way you acted and wanting to make amends,’ I say.
‘He’s not… in a bad way? With drugs? I mean, not that you could necessarily tell, from one visit.’
‘Dot,’ Julie says, putting a hand on Dot’s arm, ‘he has a family, a nice house, a cat. I really don’t think you need to worry about him so much.’
She nods, and I see that there are tears in her eyes. Julie and Erin go into the kitchen to find some biscuits and I hold out my hands for Dot. When she stands, I fold her into my arms.
‘He’s got two sons,’ I say.
‘Oh,’ she says. ‘Grandsons.’
‘And he doesn’t blame you for anything,’ I say. ‘So you have to stop blaming yourself.’
‘Easier said than done,’ she says.
‘Perhaps, but you can make a start.’
‘I’ll do that, Mabel.’