few months, but he couldn’t make urban Brooklyn his home, so he went back to Kenya, sold Paradise Farm and bought a cottage near Lake Naivasha. Five years later, I got a telegram to tell me he’d died too. And that he’d left me everything he had. The will said it was what Cecily would have wanted.’
‘I think he was right,’ I agreed. ‘Can I get you another cup of tea maybe?’
‘No, I’ll be fine, thanks, honey.’
I sat quietly while Stella composed herself. And as I watched her, I understood the lesson her grief was teaching me: that motherly love did not necessarily have to be biological. So many times I’d railed against Ma – I remembered once when I was in a rage screaming at her that she had no right to tell me I had to go up to my room, because she wasn’t my real mother anyway. Yet I understood now that any ‘real’ mother would have reacted in exactly the same way to my unacceptable behaviour. I felt a sudden huge burst of love for Ma, who had only ever shown me endless patience and compassion.
‘Forgive me, Electra, I’m ready to go on now, if you are.’
‘Sure, but only if you feel up to it. I can always come back.’
‘I think I’d prefer to keep going, if it’s okay with you. We’re very close to the end of the story now.’ Stella took a deep breath. ‘Nothing much changed in my life during those five years after Cecily died. Rosa had a succession of nannies, all of whom left after a few months. They were unable to deal with such a difficult child. Then when Bill left me his legacy, it meant that I had the choice to stay home and care for Rosa myself. To my shame, I knew that I just couldn’t do that. Coffee mornings and PTA meetings . . . after the kind of stuff I was used to dealing with every day, I knew I couldn’t cope with all that. The truth is, Electra, I just wasn’t born maternal. Not that I’m using it as an excuse or anything; lots of women aren’t, they just have to get on with it, and I did my best to do that.’
As Stella paused, I wondered whether I was maternal; it was a question I’d never considered up to this very second. I’d certainly never felt the urge to have a baby, but then I thought of my nephew, Bear, and how I’d enjoyed the smell of him and the weight of his body in my arms, and thought that I just might be.
‘Electra? Are you okay?’
‘Yeah, sorry, you lost me for a few seconds then.’
‘Anytime you just want to stop, please say the word.’
‘No, I’m good,’ I said.
‘The situation got especially bad when Rosalind told me that they could no longer keep Rosa at the school. She was a disruptive influence, unable to settle and concentrate on anything. That really burnt me. Rosalind was Rosa’s godmother, and if she’d lost faith in her, then I knew I had a serious problem on my hands.’
‘Hey, from what you’ve said, this was a very academic school. Maybe it just didn’t suit my mom,’ I said, suddenly feeling defensive of Rosa. ‘I know because I’ve been there too.’
‘That’s pretty much what Rosalind said, so I found her another school, one that was run on more holistic, relaxed lines.’ Stella gave a little chuckle. ‘Rosa took the lack of rules to an extreme. I remember arriving home one weekend with her new nanny waiting for me in her coat, with her suitcase ready by the door. Apparently, Rosa had spent the entire week at home, watching TV and eating cereal. She’d told the nanny she didn’t have to go to school that week and when the school had called to see where she was, Rosa had recited one of their own guidelines: that the students were there of their own free will to learn and that no penalties were enforced if the child didn’t attend class.’
‘My mom sure is sounding more and more like me. I would have done the same,’ I grinned.
‘The difference is, Electra, that you had a family structure around you, and from what I’ve heard, a loving mother figure and a father who caught you when you fell. Rosa didn’t have that, which was partly to do with circumstances, but also a lot to do with me. When Cecily died, I felt even