7. Plundering the disaster fund – 1978
The rest of the day was spent trying not to think about that photo.
It helped that Cass sent Ursula up to the sewing room for the afternoon.
Guilty conscience probably. But that meant Andi was needed in the shop, so there was no one to confide in.
Although in truth, Ursula didn’t know if she was ready to tell anyone yet.
But when they finished for the day, the first thing Andi wanted to know was what had really happened.
Just hearing the question was enough to make her feel sick. ‘I don’t want to talk about it.’
Andi shrugged. ‘Okay.’
‘I looked at Cass’s photos.’ Oh right, so her mouth wanted to talk about it even if her heart didn’t.
‘Is that all?’
‘There was one of my dad in there.’
‘You’re kidding? Then why would Cass ask you pick them up?’
‘I don’t know. Maybe she forgot it was there. Or maybe she didn’t expect me to look at them.’
‘Well it was a crappy thing to do. She must have known there was a chance you’d look.’
‘He has another family. Not just that, they must have been born before he left us.’
‘No! But that’s … I mean, shit. That’s awful. That’s really, really awful for you.’
Ursula’s eyes began to sting and then before she had a chance to stop herself, she was crying.
Andi put her arm around her. ‘Sorry, mate. I didn’t mean to upset you.’
‘You didn’t. It’s him. How could he do that to us?’
‘I don’t know him, but my guess is it’s because he’s a selfish bastard. Do you think your mum knows?’
‘Not sure.’ It was another thing Ursula had been trying not to think about.
‘Are you going to ask her?’
‘I dunno. What if she doesn’t?’
‘If you were her, would you want to know?’
Ursula didn’t have time to answer because the station was just ahead and her mum was waiting outside. ‘Do I look like I’ve been crying?’
‘Your eyes are a bit red, but I think you’ll get away with it. I’ll see you tomorrow.’
They split up, Andi heading for her bus and Ursula getting ever closer to the station.
In her first week at Talulah, her mum had waited for her every day but since then, they only shared the journey home if her mum had been delayed at work.
It was too much of a coincidence to imagine that was why she was here today.
The look on her face when she spotted Ursula backed up that theory.
She was smiling, but it wasn’t her natural smile.
And her eyes. Yes, her eyes most of all gave her away, the tension in them, the searching look that lasted too long.
If Ursula needed any further proof, the train journey provided it. They hardly spoke. And when they did, it was about the weather or how full the carriage was. Not the kind of things they normally talked about.
As soon as they were home, her mum put the kettle on.
This much at least was normal. A soothing cup of tea before starting the dinner.
That was her routine. When she was still at school, Ursula used to look forward to this time, her mum coming back from work and relaxing with a cuppa while telling her funny stories from the office.
But there were no funny stories today. ‘Cassandra called me at work. She told me what happened.’ It was always Cassandra these days.
Before everything changed, her mum only ever called her Cass or Cassie.
‘I didn’t know she had your number.’
‘She has it for emergencies. She thought this was an emergency.’ Her mum pulled two chairs out from the kitchen table and pointed to one of them.
Ursula poured the tea, put it on the table, and sat down. ‘Did you know about his other daughters?’
‘Yes.’
‘Before he left us?’
‘A few days before.’
‘How?’
‘It doesn’t matter.’
‘It matters to me.’
Her mum touched the bridge of her nose and closed her eyes. ‘Their mother told me. His other woman, I mean. She came to the house. Took great pleasure in it too. Even showed me photographs.’
Ursula sniffed away the tears that were threatening to burst through. ‘Why didn’t you tell me?’
‘I hoped we’d come to a civilised arrangement eventually and then we could explain you had sisters.
By the time I realised that wasn’t going to happen, you’d already lost so much, I just couldn’t do it.
I always meant to tell you when you were older.
I didn’t expect it to come out this way.
Bloody Cassandra. Stupid, selfish and thoughtless as ever. ’
‘Cass said something to me after. She said she never agreed with it. She was talking about his other family, wasn’t she?’
Her mum snorted. ‘She might not have agreed with it, but she kept it to herself. She knew he had two lives long before I found out and she said nothing. We were best friends, first and foremost. At least we were supposed to be. I held her hand through heartbreak after heartbreak, but it meant nothing. When it came to the crunch, she chose his secret over our friendship.’
Ursula didn’t want to cry anymore but she really wanted to scream. ‘I hate him, and I hate Cass. I never want to go back there again.’
‘Sleep on it, my love. I know how much you like it there. And you’ve got this new friend, Andi. You get on well with her, don’t you? Tell you what. Let’s not cook tonight. Let’s go to the Grecian. We can pretend we’re on holiday and we’re all glammed up after a day on the beach.’
Ursula could just about remember holidays like that. Long golden beaches and warm turquoise seas. ‘Can we afford it?’
‘We’ll take it out of the disaster fund. I think it qualifies, don’t you?’
Ursula was woken by the alarm. She switched it off and lay still, listening to the sound of her mum moving around the flat.
Except for when she was out with Andi, last night had been one of the best times she’d ever had.
Perhaps it was because her mum had treated her as an adult, rather than her little girl.
They’d even shared a bottle of wine. After a couple of glasses, her mum had told her so many funny stories, just like she used to back when Ursula was a schoolgirl waiting to hear the next instalment of office gossip.
And then out of nowhere, her mum spoke about her first job, working for the Frys and how she and Cass became friends.
She even mentioned the first time she saw Ursula’s dad, Bernard Fry, and how she couldn’t believe her luck when he asked her out.
Typical of her. She couldn’t see what was obvious to everyone else.
Bernard Fry had been the lucky one. Right up until he threw it all away.
Yesterday had been momentous. Not only because she’d had a great night out with her mum, but also because she’d found out two secrets that explained a lot.
The first had been that other family. The second had been the true extent of the rift between her mum and Cass.
And if she’d ever imagined there might be a time when they’d be reconciled, she understood now that it was unlikely.
She’d given up believing her dad would come back just after her thirteenth birthday.
There were only so many times you could hang around the letterbox hoping for that one card that granted you forgiveness for whatever it was you’d done wrong.
But she supposed she hadn’t given up hope that one day he’d turn up out of the blue and tell her he was sorry for all the years, all the birthdays he’d missed.
She’d been stupid and childish, she could see that now.
He was never coming back. He was never going to apologise, or tell her he loved her.
He had all the love he wanted from his other daughters.
And even if he did, she knew she’d tell him to fuck right off.
Her mum knocked the door. ‘Are you up?’
‘Yeah. Be out in a bit.’ Last night they’d talked about Talulah and how much Ursula had been enjoying working there, until yesterday. Her mum had said to think long and hard before throwing it in just because of what happened.
Ursula’s finger hovered over the radio while she made a deal with herself.
If ‘Supernature’ was on, she definitely wouldn’t tell Cass to stick her job.
She pressed the button. It was ‘British Hustle.’ Hmm.
She went to the bathroom, then joined her mum in the kitchen, still trying to make up her mind.
‘Just in time. Isn’t this your song?’ Her mum turned the radio up. It was ‘Supernature’. A sign. It had to be.
‘I thought you didn’t like it?’
‘It’s growing on me. Are you going in to work?’
‘Yeah. I’ve decided I’m going to carry on. Unless Cass gets rid of me when my three months is up.’
Her mum smiled. ‘She won’t do that.’
As usual, they travelled into town together and parted ways at Bennetts Hill.
Ursula had nearly reached Ethel Street when she heard her name being called.
It was the man, Anton. He was on the steps of the building she’d seen him by on that first day.
She waited for him to catch up with her.
He was about the same height as her so when they stood face to face, it made it easy to see what an unusual blue his eyes were, like the turquoise seas of those holidays she could just about remember.
Maybe it was his golden tan that made them stand out so much.
Whatever it was, she couldn’t look away from them.
‘Ursula. Hey. I just wanted to ask how you were.’
‘I’m fine. All mended. Thank you for looking after me though, and for lying to my boss.’
‘I was just there. You needed help. Anyone would have done it.’
‘I don’t think so. Some miserable sods just left their footprints and walked on.’
He smiled, as if he was trying hard not no. ‘They came off with a little rub.’
She nodded, remembering his handkerchief. Who the hell uses handkerchiefs these days? ‘Yes they did. Well, thank you again. I’d better go or I’ll be late.’
‘Of course. Would you … would you like to go for a drink? After work, perhaps?’
‘Oh. Yes, all right.’
‘Tomorrow? I can meet you here when you finish.’
‘Okay, Anton.’
‘You remembered my name.’
‘I did.’
His face broke into the sweetest, shyest grin. It took Ursula back to that first morning when she’d thought he looked like her dad. How could she have been so ridiculous?