‘Not so remote that she can’t contact you on a ship in the middle of the ocean.’
‘She sent an email, Claire.’
‘Well can you send her one? Because she’s ignoring me. Remind her she has two daughters who are missing her and are a bit confused as to why Mummy hasn’t come back yet!’ Shouting at my mother was always counterproductive and I should have known that by now, but I was so frustrated with her customary defence of Alice.
‘There’s no point getting cross. I’m sure there’s a very good explanation.’
‘Perhaps you can share it, so I could explain things to Poppy and Ava.’
‘Oh,’ I was glad to hear Mum sound chastened. ‘Are they very upset?’
‘Actually,’ I looked around the kitchen at Ava’s pictures on the fridge and Poppy’s schoolbag and PE kit neatly arranged on the kitchen table. ‘They’re okay.’ The three of us were working well together. Our own little team. We were doing okay. The realisation gave me a warm buzz of pride.
‘But Alice needs to get in touch and tell me when she’s coming home. Can you try and call her?
‘Of course, dear, and give those babies a big hug and kiss from Grandma. I do miss them.’
‘Will do, Mum.’
‘Lots of love.’
I hung up and listened carefully as I heard a creak upstairs and then the sound of the toilet being flushed. I put my phone down and began to get the cereal boxes out of the cupboard. The morning routine was about to start. I hoped Alice would call and at least give me an update so I could reassure Poppy and Ava. It would be even nicer if she called and spoke to them herself. Surely, she was missing them?
I picked up a message from the chairman of the Churchstone Harriers, the local running club, as I plonked myself down on my usual bench next to Hilda after my run that morning. Spring was definitely starting to give way to summer and the promise of the sky at five-thirty had delivered a gorgeous bright morning.
‘Oh well, that’s a start,’ I said to Hilda. ‘Charles is hoping to get to the meeting tonight, although he may be a bit late, and he says that a couple of members might turn up as well.’
‘That doesn’t sound too promising,’ said Ash. ‘We need as many people as possible to convince the council there’s local support, otherwise they won’t so much as consider the idea.’ I glanced up at him and frowned; something was different with him today.
‘Well, I’m trying to round up a couple of the old codgers at Sunnyside.’ Hilda drew herself up and inclined her chin his way. ‘Although they do like to watch You’ve Been Framed, which is on at 6.30pm. Trying to drag them to a council meeting when they’ve got the delights of idiot people falling over, inadvertently getting wet and capsizing small boats, might be somewhat of a stretch but I’ll do my best.’ She smiled. ‘There’s always blackmail.’
And I believed her.
‘Fingers crossed we get a few supporters in. If we can’t get permission to use the park there’s nothing more we can do at the moment.’ Now that I was fired up, I was really anxious that the parkrun should take place at Victoria Park. This was an opportunity for the stately old girl to shine.
‘Yes, but once we’ve got it, Thunderbirds are go.’ Hilda punched the air in a very un-Hilda-like gesture before adding with a dreamy smile. ‘I used to know Gerry Anderson.’
I frowned, not having a clue who that was.
‘The creator of the Thunderbirds, dear. And Captain Scarlet. Gosh, Farquhar used to love those programmes. Dear Gerry always said Lady Penelope was loosely based on me.’ She let out a cackle. ‘Of course she wasn’t; he said that to everyone. It was his wife Sylvia, really, but Parker was definitely my driver to a T.’
‘You had a driver?’ asked Ash.
‘Only while I worked for MI6. He used to take me to Downing Street for security briefings. Although I shouldn’t be telling you any of this. Official Secrets Act and all that.’
Ash caught my eye and that familiar eyebrow winged upwards and we shared a brief smile. My heart did a sideways wobble at the unexpected warmth of his expression. I knew it was born of a fondness for Hilda but it brought me a little bubble of happiness.
‘And I want to enlist your help, the pair of you. I’ve decided to move back into my house.’
Before either of us could respond to this, my phone began to vibrate in the depths of my leggings pocket.
‘It’s Alice,’ I said once I’d wriggled it out and with hasty, stabby hands tried to swipe the screen.
‘Alice!’ I stood up and walked away from the bench towards one of the flower beds filled with the pom-pom heads of dark pink peonies. ‘Where are you? Are you okay?’
‘Still in India.’
‘Couldn’t you get a flight back? Do you need some help? Are you all right for money?’
‘I’m not coming back.’ Defiance and a touch of I-dare-you-to-say-anything rang in her voice.
It took me a moment to add up the sum total of words.
‘What?’
‘I can’t do it.’
‘What are you talking about, Alice? Why can’t you come back? I don’t understand.’
‘Of course, you don’t. You’ve got everything you want. Your life has all gone to plan. You’ve got it all. Career. Own home. What have I got? Leftover crumbs from you and Mum and Dad. Stuck at home. Mouldering into nothingness. I’m a non-person. A mother. And a single one at that. A nothing.’
‘That’s not true,’ I protested, feeling the sinuous slide of guilt slither through me.
‘Yes, it is. I know what people think of me. You. Mum. Dad. “Poor Alice. She doesn’t even work.” I have no purpose. Whereas here, I feel alive, in touch with myself. Free. The thought of being back in suburbia with the same dull routine, it kills me. I realise now I was being suffocated. If I stay here, I could become a yoga teacher or something.’ The latter point was made with a touch of challenge.
‘But what about Poppy and Ava? You have to come back.’
‘Don’t you dare make me feel guilty. This is about me. What I need. This is my time. I’m growing as a person every moment I’m here. Spiritually, I’m re-awakening, feeling the life-force. I think I’ve been half dead for most of my life.’
‘Alice, you can’t just abandon them! Who’s going to look after them?’
‘I’m not abandoning them. Don’t bring it down to your simplistic terms. Perhaps I’ll be freeing them, allowing them to live. I need to breathe, to be free of the yoke of motherhood.’
‘What about what they need? They need their mother.’
‘I can’t be a mother at the moment.’
‘Alice, you can’t just stay. And you can’t say that. You have responsibilities.’
‘I knew you wouldn’t understand.’ She managed to sound both plaintive and accusing at the same time and it twisted something in my gut.
I sighed, realising I needed to tread carefully. ‘Alice, I know it’s probably wonderful there but you can’t stay; it’s not real life. Ava and Poppy need you.’
‘I know you think they do but really they don’t. Children are more resilient than you realise. They’ll be fine. Mum and Dad will be home soon. And it’s not forever… I just need more time.’