Page 104
Mum keeps on speaking. “I remember watching my mother cry because she couldn’t afford my school uniform. And her sending rings to be ‘cleaned’ but they never came back. And after that she became obsessed with appearances. My grades, my clothes, who I spent time with. I don’t think she meant to hurt me. I think she was terrified people would see what we’d lost.” Mum twists her wedding ring. “And it became normal to me, that sort of control, even though it shouldn’t have been.”
The ring winks in the light as she continues to twist it.
“And I remember feeling so lucky when I fell in love with your father, because after years of worrying I finally felt safe. Maybe I partly fell for the security he offered, but I also fell in love with him as a person. But when you were born I promised myself I would never let my children feel the kind of fear that I’d felt, and that my mother clearly felt. So I became obsessed with… stability. Security. The right husband, the right job, the right address. I thought if you girls had all that, you’d be safe.”
Her voice cracks slightly on the last word.
“Mum…”
She shakes her head. “But somewhere along the way I stopped letting both of you girls be yourselves. And when you didn’t tick the same boxes I did for my mother, I panicked, because I was scared the same thing might happen to you one day. I said things I shouldn’t have. I just didn’t realise quite how bad I’d become.”
I take in the explanation, trying to sort through the apology, the history, the years of behaviour that suddenly have a context I never knew existed. It doesn’t erase anything. It doesn’t magically make me feel better. But it does make the picture more complicated.
“Thank you for telling me,” I say finally. “But I don’t get why you realised now? It’s been years of this, Mum.”
“When you walked out of that restaurant months ago I realised that you’d never once left a room I wanted you in.” She smooths her hands on her skirt, in a gesture I recognise because I do exactly the same. “And then you did it again when Tom came for lunch, and after you left Angus started talking about cryptocurrency for twenty minutes, and I kept thinking: why am I listening to this man and not going after my own daughter? It was the push I needed.”
Shifting on the sofa I look over at Tom, who’s still watching me, his eyes gentle. It gives me the courage to reply.
“I understand why you became afraid. What I still don’t understand is how you couldn’t see what it was doing to us. When you criticise everything I do, who I date, what I wear, my job, it doesn’t make me feel protected. It just makes me feel like I’m never good enough.”
Mum looks down, blinking quickly. “I didn’t mean to make you feel that way. I just wanted you to have the stability I didn’t have.”
“I know,” I say softly. “But meaning well isn’t the same as doing well. I’m happy, Mum. With Tom, with work. I just need you to let me be for a while.”
“I know. I’m truly sorry, Claire. Thank you for hearing me out.”
“I’m not the only person who needs to hear that story though. Sophia should hear it from you too. I’m seeing her in a few days, and if it’s alright with you I want to tell her about this conversation. But I think you should speak to her too.”
Mum nods at that, and I hope that means Sophia will be getting a call from her today.
Standing, I pull my coat back on. Mum gets up too, and for a second neither of us seem entirely sure what to do next. I don’t want to hug her, and I think she can sense that.
“Thank you again for listening,” Mum says.
“Bye,” I nod.
Tom gives an awkward wave.
And then we walk out of the house.
The drive back is quiet, but not uncomfortable. As we get back to Tom’s road, he reaches across the centre console and takes my hand.
“Are you alright?”
I turn to face him again, the familiar brown eyes I know so well with their smile lines. The way his hair is a bit longer than usual at the moment, with the slight curl at the ear.
“I think so.”
He smiles at me. “I’m really proud of you and whatever you do I’ll support the decision. If you don’t want a relationship with her that’s fine, if you want to slowly rebuild things that’s also fine. There isn’t a right or wrong answer, but whatever happens it’s your decision and you don’t need to figure it all out today.”
“I need to think about it,” I admit. “And I’ll talk to Sophia soon, but if I do keep in contact with Mum I’ll need to know that things have actually changed. After all, actions speak louder than words.”
He walks around to open my car door, and then I follow him into the flat that feels an awful lot like home.
Chapter 42
Claire
