gratitude that she isn’t with one of them scummy rascals who are always up to no good on the rec. Right proper gentleman Victor is, lovely boy and nicely brought up too.’
I didn’t know whether it was the revelation that Georgia wasn’t quite the vestal virgin Faye had imagined or the fact that my mother had caught her in flagrante, but Faye was silent for a moment.
Unfortunately, my mother had never liked a silence. ‘So my suggestion, love, is that you get off home and have a strong word with your daughter before you go flying round the neighbourhood accusing people of all sorts.’
Faye tossed her head. ‘You’re all deluded. I mean, let’s call a spade a spade here – literally – and look at who the real problem is.’ And she allowed herself a little smirk at her own joke.
In that moment, I realised that I’d been holding onto something, a fragile edifice of a friendship in which I’d suffocated my instinct, dismissed all the times that she put me or my family down as tactlessness, over-protectiveness of her own family, no malice intended, just a bit clumsy but no harm done. Now I couldn’t pretend to myself any more. And with a soaring feeling, a mixture of flinging my arms open on the first sunny day of spring and standing in the loudest most intense storm, I grabbed her arm and propelled her towards the door.
I didn’t yell. Didn’t swear, even though it was tempting. I said quietly, ‘I’d credited you with the ability to judge a person for who they are, not what skin colour they happen to have. Please leave now.’ I was shaking, adrenaline coursing through me.
She laughed, a horrid raucous sound. ‘Oh don’t come the martyr with me. Making out you give a shit about Victor now. You were all ready to pack him off to Australia, when you… Oh yes, sorry, I forgot that no one else knows about that.’
I saw her look round, judge her audience, rattle the power she had over me and put it down again. A surge of terror.
‘Don’t. Just go. Please.’
She leaned towards my mother. ‘You can slag off Georgia as much as you like, but at least we’re not all lying to each other. My daughter does actually know who her parents are.’
And with that, she flung the door open and clattered down the path.
Phoebe turned to me. ‘What was she on about? Did you really want to send Victor to Australia?’
‘I did consider it, yes.’ Something in me capitulated, as I resigned myself to whatever was heading our way. I couldn’t quite believe that I was going to say the words out loud. ‘There’s something you need to know.’
‘Well, whatever it is, let’s have a cup of tea. I’ll put the kettle on,’ Mum said.
I loved the way she assumed she was part of the great unveiling, but I didn’t argue. I was grateful to have someone with me, though that could change at any time depending on Mum’s reaction. I contemplated calling Patrick but decided that he couldn’t do anything from Wales. This was something I’d have to deal with on my own, which was my punishment for opening my big mouth in the first place.
I took the Marks & Spencer chocolate selection I’d been saving for Christmas from its hiding place on the top shelf.
Phoebe clapped her hands. ‘Oh my God, this is going to be huge!’
I wished I could have seen the funny side, but I couldn’t stop trembling.
Phoebe put her hand on my arm. ‘Mum, you’re frightening me. Are you and Dad getting divorced? What did she mean about Georgia knowing who her parents are? You’re not going to tell me I’m adopted, are you?’ She was trying to make light of it, but panic was tapping a drumbeat in her words.
My mother put three large mugs of tea on the table and I attempted to speak, but clouds of tears kept sweeping across my throat.
‘Phoebe, it’s not you.’ Like someone finally plucking up courage to jump into a choppy sea, not knowing whether they’d clear the rocks below, I said, ‘It’s Victor. He’s your half-brother, your dad’s son.’
Mum was slowest – or quickest – off the mark depending on which end of the telescope you chose to look down. ‘Patrick’s son? But he’s black?’
‘He’s mixed race, Mum. Black and white.’
Phoebe didn’t say anything. Just sat there frowning as though her brain was shuddering between the different hideous scenarios that could have