Jo’s heart was filled with love for her and she wondered if it was a good thing she would have to move out of her flat permanently. It would be hard to imagine living somewhere where Clara didn’t occasionally sneak under the covers for comfort.
Jo startled when she heard her mother behind her. She had just come out of the bath and was wrapped in a towel, another, turban-like, on her head. She looked exhausted and immediately Jo’s protectiveness of her kicked in.
‘Everything okay?’ Jo whispered.
‘Tough day,’ her mother said. ‘Madam was like a bag of cats all afternoon. She refused her dinner, and any alternative I offered her, and then she refused – point-blank – to have her bath. She was so incredibly grumpy and cheeky and nothing I could do would bring her out of it.’
‘Maybe she’s sickening for something? You know she always gets cross when she’s getting sick. I’ll keep an eye on her overnight – let her sleep in here.’ She reached out her hand to feel Clara’s forehead for signs of a fever, but her skin was cool.
‘Jo, come and talk to me in my room,’ her mother said, and Jo followed, curious as to what her mother would say.
She sat on the bed and averted her eyes while her mother slipped into her pyjamas.
‘It’s not a cold, or a sickness. When I was making dinner, she asked if she could put on a movie and, of course, I said okay. I was sure she’d watch The Princess Bride again, or Toy Story. But when I came into the room, she was glued to that remake of Annie.’
Jo’s heart sank. She guessed what was coming.
‘So we had a very difficult conversation about why she doesn’t see her birth mum any more and why she probably wouldn’t see her again.’ Her mum’s voice cracked as she spoke. ‘She asked if her mammy didn’t love her. She doesn’t have much of a memory of her, you know. And she asked why her mammy wouldn’t come back, or her daddy too. I took out her life story book – you know, the one we made when we were adopting her – and went through the story, but she just got very sad, and then very angry. I know she was just testing me, and looking for a reaction. But, God, it was tough and my heart aches for her. No child deserves that pain in their life.’ Jo watched her mother dab at her eyes. It was heartbreaking to see her so emotional, and while she knew that Clara’s anger and many questions were perfectly natural given her past, she knew her mum cared so deeply about each of her charges that she felt their pain too. Especially when it came to Clara.
‘But, Mum, a huge part of her life is that she got you and Dad, and me too, of course. She got good parents. A good family. She is lucky. You don’t treat her any different to how you treated any of us. Except, maybe, you love her a little more.’
‘I love you all the same,’ her mum cut in.
‘I know you love us all. We couldn’t ask for better. I just meant that you give your undivided time and energy to Clara now, which is exactly as it should be. She doesn’t have to share you with anyone. She doesn’t want for love and attention, but it must be hard for her. How was she when she went to bed?’
Her mother sighed – one of those huge sighs that come right from your soul. ‘By then she was crying and I was crying, although I did my best to hide it from her. I did leave her in her room, but she must have sneaked into yours. I wish I knew how to make it better for her.’
‘But, Mum, you make it better for her every day. She just has to go through it and she’s still so young. I wonder, maybe, if Noah could talk to her a little? He knows what it’s like to move into a whole new family. I know it was different and he was older… but…’
Jo thought back to the day a moody, broken teenager arrived to stay with them, his family having been wiped out in a horrible accident. She had helped him come back out of his shell and learn how to laugh again. Even though he was older than her, their bond was immediate and she couldn’t ever imagine her life without him in it, but however much they had become his family, for Noah there would always be a part of him missing, a part that had been taken away when he lost his family.
‘That might just be a great idea,’ her mother said. ‘I don’t know how I didn’t think of it myself.’
‘Because you’ve been busy parenting all day!’ Jo said.
‘I’ll call in to see Noah tomorrow. Chat to him about it and ask him what he thinks.’
‘I think he’s taking tomorrow off,’ Jo replied. ‘But he has no plans other than taking Paddy for a walk and meeting with Libby later on to discuss their guest list.’
‘Okay, love. That’s good to know. Thank you, darling. Do you want me to carry Clara back to her own bed?’
‘Not at all,’ Jo protested. ‘She’s fine in beside me.’
Her mother crossed the room and pulled Jo into a hug, kissing the top of her head. ‘I love you, darling.’
‘I love you more,’ Jo said back, and she meant it.
When her mother went downstairs to make them both a cup of tea, Jo couldn’t help but feel it wasn’t only Clara who was out of sorts. Her mother seemed most unlike herself too. Normally, Maureen Campbell could take every parenting challenge life could throw at her and fix it within seconds. But normally her mum had her dad with her, and it had been a long time since she had parented a six-year-old. Jo tried to push away her worries but promised herself she would keep a closer eye on how her mother was doing.
She padded into her own room and changed into her pyjamas. Then, sitting on the floor so that she wouldn’t wake Clara, Jo switched on her laptop. Without second-guessing herself, she emailed her book to Libby. Then she looked up Ewan McLachlan and downloaded the McCreadie books onto her Kindle. She really needed to refresh her memory of them before Thursday’s signing.
Monday was Jo’s day off, which she was glad of. She had stayed up much later than planned, having become completely engrossed in the first of the DS Tom McCreadie series – the handsome Scottish policeman, who Jo pictured as looking not too dissimilar to Gerard Butler. That she had long had a crush on Gerard Butler was a pure coincidence.
She had been unable to put the book down as DS McCreadie solved the case of the ‘Lady in the Loch’ – a poor, unfortunate woman offed by her ungrateful children and dumped in Loch Ness, as food for the monster presumably.
It had been dark and gritty but accessible and extremely addictive. So addictive in fact that the sun was starting to rise as she read the last page and closed her eyes – just as Clara opened hers.
‘It’s morning time!’ Clara chirped with the enthusiasm of a Disney princess about to greet the forest animals.
All Jo wanted to do was roll over and pull the duvet up over her head and drift back to sleep. Clara, however, had other plans.
‘It’s not time for more sleep, Jojo,’ she said, her voice stern. ‘It’s time to get up. It’s a school day!’
Mustering all the strength she had, Jo opened one eye to look at the clock on her bedside table. Yes, it was a school day, but it was very early on a school day. Too early, if the truth be told.
‘It’s only half six,’ she mumbled.
‘But the sun is shining and when the sun is shining, it’s time to get up!’ Clara said, with all the innocent logic of someone so young.