Chapter 35
THIRTY-FIVE
The rain began as soon as Angela set foot onto the pavement outside of the café.
She held her hands above her head, shielding her freshly coloured pastel pink hair the best she could, and rushed to the small black car her son was already getting into.
Her heart felt so full of gratitude she thought it might burst, she had never imagined this working out so well.
She stopped and stared. The handsome young man in front of her was her son.
How she’d longed over the years to be able to say that to herself.
Of all the scenarios she had run through inside of her head, she thought he’d be disgusted with her, not so warm and welcoming that he’d invite her for supper minutes after meeting her, her heart full she got into the passenger seat next to him.
She wasn’t sure if she should tell him about what she did all those years ago, why she was forced to give him up, if she should be open and honest about it.
She didn’t want to scare him away when he had literally just let her into his life.
She wondered what Cain would say when she told him, would he be furious about it or accepting of it?
She hoped that he would be able to forgive her.
She loved him more than anything. More than anyone in her life up until now, that was.
She glanced at the man sitting next to her and felt a warm rush of love for him envelop her.
‘That rain came out of nowhere; you can dry off at my flat.’
She smiled at him. ‘I’m okay, being a little damp is nothing compared to sitting next to you.’
He smiled back at her. ‘You’ve waited a long time for this?’
‘Yes, my entire life.’
He nodded. ‘I hope this is what you imagined and I’m everything you hoped I would be.’
It was her turn to nod, blinking back tears at the same time.
He was right; he lived in a narrow street with very little parking available, but he managed to squeeze the small car into a gap. ‘I haven’t got an umbrella, sorry.’
‘That’s okay, I can handle the rain. My colour might run a little but it’s a small price to pay. I’ve handled much worse.’
He laughed. ‘Jonathan?’
‘Yes, Jonathan.’
She followed him to a large house with four letter boxes on the wall outside.
‘I live in the bottom flat, which is really lucky because I hate walking up and down stairs.’
‘You’re not into the gym or anything then?’
He snorted. ‘Absolutely not, haven’t got the time for that.’
‘Me either I much prefer reading.’
He opened the door and there was the scrabbling sound of claws on the tiled floor as a dog came bounding towards him, its tail wagging.
‘I didn’t know you had a dog, he’s so cute. What’s his name?’
He paused. ‘Er, I call him dog, but his actual name is Barney.’
Angela bent down to scratch his ears. ‘Hey, Barney, aren’t you the cutest.’
Barney proceeded to lie on his back so she could scratch his belly.
‘He’ll let you do that all day, he’s such a pushover. No good whatsoever as a guard dog either. He can’t bark to save his life.’
‘That’s not a bad thing. I mean, sometimes barking dogs can be a real nuisance, can’t they?
’ She straightened up, and he passed her a towel.
‘Thanks.’ Angela patted her hair and cringed to see a little of her pink hair dye transfer onto his soft white Egyptian cotton towel.
Clutching it to her chest, she thought she would offer to wash it for him.
He pointed at the kitchen table, it was a small, round pine table with two old-fashioned wooden chairs.
‘Do you want to sit in here or in the lounge?’
‘If you’re going to cook in here, and if you don’t mind, I’d love to sit and chat.’
He nodded. ‘Would you like a glass of wine?’
Angela paused, it wasn’t even four, should she be so daring and wild? Before she could speak her answer her head nodded up and down.
‘Yes, I would. A small one though because I’ll have to get my car at some point.’
‘A small one it is. I thought it might make it easier to chat if we both relaxed a little.’ He opened the fridge and took out a bottle of white wine. She didn’t even look at the label; she would take a little Dutch courage. He got two tall juice glasses out of the cupboard.
‘Sorry, I haven’t got around to buying any wine glasses yet. I broke the last two I had and because I’m usually alone I make do with these.’
‘I don’t blame you, they are more than adequate.’
He unscrewed the cap and filled the glasses half full, passing one to Angela. Then he took a huge gulp of his and refilled it to the top. He began to pull some pans out of the cupboard, then the ingredients for Bolognese out of the fridge.
‘Do you want to explain everything whilst I’m prepping?’
He had his back to her, and she thought it might be easier this way. She could feel her pulse racing at the thought of telling her son what a crap mother she was or had been.
‘It’s not going to be easy for me to talk about everything,’ she said. ‘Do you want the short or the long, ugly version?’
He was expertly peeling an onion; he turned and smiled at her. ‘Maybe I should tell you what I think, and you can take it from there.’
She nodded. ‘How did you know who I was? You asked if I was your mother at the café, what made you think I could be?’
‘Oh, I knew for a long time that Susan wasn’t my birth mother.
She liked to throw that in my face whenever I did something she didn’t approve of.
She would mutter under her breath how I was just like her, or just like that woman.
I mean, when I was little I didn’t think much of it, but as I got older I began to question what she meant by that.
One day my sisters, who delighted in making my whole existence a misery, told me I was only there because my dad wanted a son and because Susan felt as if she’d had no choice but to let me into her life. I was an unwanted orphan.’
Angela cupped a hand across her mouth. ‘Oh, that’s awful. I am so sorry, I had no idea. I thought she was happy that she had you in her life.’
He shook his head. ‘She hated me, maybe not at first when I was little and didn’t argue with her precious daughters, but as I got older, she began to make it quite clear how much she disliked me.
So much that she sent me to a different school to her girls, so they didn’t have to acknowledge my existence. ’
Angela could feel a white hot rage building inside her chest at how cruel Susan and Jim had been. Depriving her of her child, whilst at the same time making his life miserable too when he was completely innocent in all their mess.
‘I’m so sorry, I really am. I wanted you so much and your father wouldn’t let me anywhere near to you.’
The oil sizzling in the pan on the hob crackled as he scraped the chopped onion and garlic into it.
‘Why? What did you do to him to make him hate you so much?’
He glanced at her and it was her turn to take a huge gulp of wine.
‘What I’m going to tell you isn’t very nice, but there is no point in trying to lie about it. There’s already been too many secrets and lies in your life, you deserve to know the truth.’
He stirred the pan then added some chopped mushrooms, sautéing them with the onions before adding the mince. He worked slowly and methodically. She waited for him to turn and face her before continuing. When he had stirred everything together, he turned to her.
‘What’s your big secret? What did you do to piss Jonathan off so much?’
She met his gaze, didn’t take her eyes off him because this was her one chance to put right all those wrongs.
‘I was bathing you one night. I was exhausted, you weren’t sleeping well or feeding too good, and I put you into the big bath instead of the baby bath.
You slipped out of my hands, and this is so hard for me to say to you.
I can’t say whether I was just in a daze or if I meant for you to drown.
Jonathan came home and pulled you out of the bath tub, you were lifeless, and your lips were blue, you weren’t breathing.
I don’t know how he managed it, but it was probably the one thing he ever did for you that meant something.
He brought you back and saved your life.
’ As she finished speaking, she let out a huge sob, so loud it made him jump.
He was staring at her in disbelief, and she could feel the hot tears as they ran down her cheek.
‘I’m sorry, I was a terrible mother, but I was also suffering with what we now know is the baby blues.
You were rushed to hospital, and I wasn’t allowed to see you.
Jonathan made it quite clear that I was to have nothing further to do with you.
He arranged for Susan to stay the night with you on the children’s ward, whilst I was on a medical ward.
He threw me out of the house the next day, left me a letter under a plant pot telling me it was over.
I was not to contact him or Susan, as if I did.
He would tell the police I tried to kill you.
’ Angela rushed to get the words out between the tears and sobs.
He was holding the knife in one hand that he’d used to chop up the onions, garlic and mushrooms. He used the other to grab a clean tea towel off the rail and passed it to her.
She couldn’t look at him, couldn’t see anything but her own grief, and realised the enormity of what she had just disclosed to him. Pushing herself away from the table she stood up.
‘I’m sorry. I should go, I can walk. This wasn’t how I wanted to tell you, but you need to know the truth.
When I heard about Susan and Jim’s car crash, I wanted to reach out to you, but I still feared Jonathan and everything he had said.
He made me feel like I didn’t deserve you.
I’ll give you some time to think about it and if you still want to talk, you can message me. ’
She was crying so hard, the tears flowing so fast, her vision was blurry. She took a step towards the door. He shook his head and held his arms open wide.
‘I don’t want you to go.’
‘But you must be so angry with me.’
He shook his head again and, stepping closer to her, he wrapped one arm around her and squeezed her tight. ‘I’m not angry with you.’
‘You’re not?’ She tried to talk through the hitching breaths.
‘No, I’m not angry. I like you, Angela, or should I say Mum, and I wish we’d met a little bit sooner, I really do. Things might have turned out different; this wouldn’t have to end like this if we had.’
He lifted his hand towards her, drawing the sharp butcher’s knife across her throat in one swift movement, slicing open her jugular vein.
‘I’m fucking furious with you, Mum; you tried to kill me, then what was even worse you let a family of sociopaths take me in, and now look where we are. Look at this mess all because you didn’t have the courage to stand up for me. For us.’
Angela’s eyes went glassy with shock. She lifted her hands to her neck, but the blood was spurting out too fast, and she crumpled to her knees.
He watched as she tried to stop the blood, but it was pointless, she was bleeding out all over his cream kitchen tiles.
Angela saw his kind face as her vision blurred and then went black as she collapsed onto the floor, her body twitching.
He watched as her chest stilled, then turned and rinsed the knife in the sink, watching the blood run from the blade and his fingers into the plughole.
When he turned around, he stared at her lifeless body on the floor and shrugged.
Then he stirred the pan. Opening a jar of sauce he poured it over, then added a tin of chopped tomatoes as an afterthought along with a blend of herbs and spices.
It smelled good, he was starving. First, he would eat and then he would figure out what to do with the body on his kitchen floor.
He heard whining and turned around, wondering if maybe she wasn’t dead after all, but he saw Barney sitting at Angela’s feet; he kept looking from her corpse to him.
‘Sorry, dog, that was not in my plan, but it happened. Now, be thankful I never did the same to you.’
Taking some treats out of the jar he’d filled up, he scooped Barney up and took him into his bedroom, putting him on the bed. The last thing he needed was the dog trotting around in all the mess, leaving a trail of bloody pawprints everywhere.