The Spark - Jules Wake Page 0,87

my mother’s otherwise diminished life.

‘No, Douglas was just going.’ My mother’s teeth were practically bared as she ushered him out.

‘Coffee, Jess?’

‘Yes, please.’ It was the last thing I wanted but it gave her something to do as I tried to work up the courage to start. Luckily she made it easy for me with a tart ‘So what brings you here for an unannounced visit? I thought Lynn was the only recipient.’

Combative as always, I thought. I was tempted to start with the opening line ‘I saw Dad last week,’ but instead I said, chickening out, ‘I wanted to talk to you.’

‘Oh.’ She arched a perfect plucked, elegant eyebrow. ‘You’re not ill, are you? Oh God. You’re pregnant.’

I laughed. ‘And would that be so awful?’

‘I suppose not,’ she said grudgingly. ‘Although it would be better to be married.’ She pursed her lips, ‘and preferably without the fuss Gladys insisted upon.’

‘But it was fun.’

‘It was a ridiculous waste of money, at her age.’

‘Mum, you enjoyed yourself. I saw you dancing with one of the RAF boys.’

Her face softened. ‘Who’d have thought he’d be so good at ballroom?’

‘Did you know there are tea dances in Stone?’ I named a village on the outskirts of Aylesbury. ‘You should go.’ I waited a beat before adding. ‘Take Douglas.’

She stared at me, but I wasn’t going to be cowed.

‘You should. Live a little. He seems a nice man and he obviously likes you. You shouldn’t shut out the possibility of…’ Her impassive face almost made me stop but, bugger it, it was time for straight talking. My impatience with her sterile life and taboo subjects broke through. ‘I don’t know what happened between you and Dad, but you deserve to be happy. Let yourself be happy for a change. Why not take a chance? It feels like you’re punishing yourself.’ Oh God, I’d really done it now.

‘I beg your pardon. How dare you speak to me like that?’ Mum’s face had turned white and I knew I had stepped into no man’s land and might kick a landmine at any second, but I couldn’t stop myself. Eighteen years of uncertainty, of tiptoeing around her feelings, too terrified to risk upsetting her, had come to an uncorked explosion and now I couldn’t stop myself. It all just poured out.

‘Because you won’t ever talk about it. About what happened between you and Dad. About what happened afterwards, when you went to hospital. You just shut down. I’ve always been too scared to try and talk to you. You shut all your emotions away. The only one that ever comes out is your jealousy of Aunty Lynn and that’s so unfair.’

‘I’m not jealous of Lynn.’

‘Yes, you are. You make me feel guilty that I feel comfortable with her, that her home is more welcoming than yours.’ Anger made me blunt. ‘But why should I? You’ve made it like this. You shut me out. You shut life out. I don’t think you even talk about things to Dawn, do you?’

Mum threw down the tea towel in a quick jerky movement and gripped the sink with one hand. Beady, bird bright eyes stared at me with unexpected malevolence.

‘Talk,’ she spat in uncharacteristic fury that immediately sparked a memory of her screaming at Dad. A painful tear in the status quo. Dad had been supplicant, pleading, soft-spoken, while she’d raged at him. Screaming abuse and threats. Her uncontrolled wildness at complete odds with the buttoned-up, repressed woman she’d become.

‘That’s all anyone wants these days.’ She spoke in a vicious low-toned voice brimming with suppressed rage which made my heart pound. What had I started? ‘What if I don’t want to talk about things? What if it’s too painful? Have you thought about that? You wait. When Sam swans off into the sunset with another woman, how will you feel then? Will you want to talk about how humiliating and shameful it is? Will you want to share how inadequate and stupid you feel? Will you want everyone to see that you’re second best? That you weren’t enough?’

‘If that happens. Then I can look back on what we’ve had. The happy times. The joy we’ve shared. You must have been happy with Dad once.’

‘He left me, and you, without a thought.’

‘Is that true?’

‘True!’ she screeched. ‘You’re asking that?’

‘I’m just asking what happened. Why he left, and why he didn’t want to see me?’

‘He left because he met that bitch who didn’t care that he had a wife and a baby. So he