CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

When she next woke up the room was full of the cold, white light of morning. Her parents were moving around downstairs. Someone had switched the radio on. She could smell toast. Mum came out into the hall and called to Dad in the kitchen.

‘Shall we take it into the sitting room while we talk? The snowy garden looks lovely.’

Of course, there would have to be talk. About her. About what they were going to do with her. Mia felt the familiar flare of anger, but she was still so tired. All she wanted was to lie there and sleep.

When she finally got up the voices were still going on. The door was ajar. Mia sat on the top step and listened.

‘– all over again. We’re going round in circles.’

‘But the school is there. She wouldn’t be at home all day.’

‘David, have you heard nothing I’ve been saying? This isn’t going to work. Listen to me, for goodness’ sake. You know how hard I found it. Impossible. I can’t go back there again. I’m only just getting going again after that terrible time.’

‘Well, what are you suggesting then? It’s going to be all up to me again, is it? How on earth can I support Mia and a baby? All over again. Haven’t I done enough?’

‘I don’t know. I really don’t. It’s hard for me to think straight right now. It’s too raw, too much like what we couldn’t sort out before, when it was our baby.’

‘Why do you always have to bring it back to us? This is Mia we’re talking about.’

‘Because it is still about us, can’t you see? What Mia’s going through – it has everything to do with us. What we dumped on her. What I did. That’s why I feel so terrible. Isn’t it obvious? Her terrible hurt at me leaving. She wants a baby to love her, to fill the terrible yearning gap that’s inside her, and maybe she’s right. Maybe it will heal that old wound. Who are we to say? We messed it up. She’ll probably do a much better job than we did. Than I did anyway.’

Mia sat with her head in her hands. Each word pierced her like an arrow. It was terrible to hear Mum’s words, but she also knew they were true. You have to face the truth. You can’t go on pretending. She did want a baby to love her, and for her to love. It did feel like it might heal something for her. And she did think she could do it better.

She walked slowly down the stairs and pushed open the door. They both looked up. Mum had tears on her cheeks. She tried to smile at Mia.

‘Darling!’

‘It’s all right,’ Mia told her. ‘I heard what you said. I just thought it might be better if I was here too, since you’re talking about me.’

‘Yes. Of course. But can I just talk to you first, Mia? Without David for a bit?’

She could see Dad biting back an angry reply. He left the room abruptly, closed the door a little too hard.

Mia felt cold again. This woman now sitting opposite her on the sofa was her mother. She didn’t even look how she remembered. Her hair was sleek and dark, and she wore make-up, smudged a little now, and smart fashionable clothes. She looked young. Sexy, even.

‘You’re so thin, Mia! I’m so sorry. You poor love.’

Mia shrugged.

‘I know you’re still angry with me, Mia. You’ve a right to be angry. It doesn’t help you though, going on and on, holding it to you like – like armour. It hurts you more than anyone else. And now we’ve a baby to think about.’

Mia’s hands tightened in her lap.

‘Please, Mia. Can you just listen to me? Just for a short while hear what I want to tell you? I’ve thought about it so much, and if I don’t say it now I probably never will.’

How could Mia say no to that? Her mother, pleading with tears in her eyes? But she couldn’t smile. She didn’t really want to hear what Mum was about to tell her. She could guess some of it already.

Mum read her silence as agreement. She fumbled to find the right words to begin with.

‘It was a terrible, terrible thing I did, Mia. Leaving you and your sisters. I wouldn’t have done it if I hadn’t been desperate. I don’t expect you to forgive me. I just think it might help if I tell you what happened. It broke my heart, leaving you all behind.’

‘Why did you then?’ Mia’s voice was icy.

‘In my muddled way I thought it would be better for you, that you’d be better off with Dad. He’d do a better job than me. He had his work and money, and he wasn’t going crazy in his head like I was. It felt like the only thing I could do.’

Listen to the words. Concentrate. Eyes open. Breathe out.

‘I thought I’d die if I stayed any longer, Mia. I was withering, drying up so there was nothing left of me. Couldn’t do it like everyone else seemed to. Being a mother. Anyway, at the lowest point I found I was pregnant again. A fourth baby. Too much for me, but too much for Dad too. He was working, no time, me ill, sicker than I’d ever been with the other pregnancies – and I’d been pretty bad when I was pregnant with you, Mia.’

No more. I don’t want to hear this.

But Alice kept talking, even though Mia was a cold and ungiving listener, and gradually the story her mother told began to bind her in its spell.

‘What could I do? I had three beautiful daughters. I knew what it was like to bring a child into the world, the birth, the magic of it. How could I not have this one? What kind of mother kills her own child? “It’s not killing. It’s not a child, not yet,” David said. He kept saying it. I think he was trying to help me out; he could see I wasn’t in any fit state to have a baby – he wasn’t either – and gradually I began to believe what he said, what other friends told me. That it wasn’t so terrible, just a sensible choice, one that women have had to make for years and centuries even, taking control of their bodies.’

Her voice faltered. Mia leaned forwards ever so slightly.

‘And then suddenly I didn’t have a choice any more. I began to bleed. A miscarriage. And it was all over. No baby. No choice. And instead, terrible guilt. That I’d made it happen. Terrible grief, over a lost child, except that why would I feel grief when I hadn’t wanted it? I didn’t deserve any sympathy. And after that, I couldn’t bear to be around you all any more. Not David, or any of you children. All I could think was that I had to go away. By myself.

‘I’m telling you this, Mia, not so you’ll forgive me or anything, not to get sympathy, but because it’s the truth of how it was, and because it seems important for you to know. It connects up with your story. The piece of ice you’ve kept inside you since then. It isn’t yours, it comes from me.

‘It’s as if – this baby you’ve decided to have – it’s a way to warm you again – from the inside – the child inside, coming to life – a way of loving again.

‘I know we’ve still got lots to sort out, and it’s going to be really hard, and maybe you’ll end up thinking, I don’t know, that it was the wrong choice. Sometimes, anyway. But you have made a choice and it’s a brave one, Mia. You can be a good mother. Better than I’ve been.’

Heart thudding behind her ribs. Fear beating its wings. Don’t look at her. Don’t show her anything.

‘Thanks for listening.’

‘OK.’

‘Anything you want to say?’

‘No.’

Mum sighed heavily. ‘Does it make sense to you, what I’ve said?’

‘Yes. No. I don’t know really.’

‘Now we need to talk about you. What you want to do.’

‘Yes.’

‘Shall we call David back?’

‘In a minute.’

‘He’s been a good dad, you know. Really good. I was right about that.’

‘Yes. I know. You don’t have to tell me that.’

In that second, Mia suddenly saw everything clearly.

‘That letter you sent –’ Mia looked directly at her mother ‘– it was horrible. I hated you.’

Alice was silent.

‘Can’t you see? I couldn’t possibly go and find you after that, with the baby inside me, knowing what you thought. So I had nowhere to go.’

‘I’m sorry, Mia. Again. I can’t get it right, can I?’

‘No.’

‘You’re better off here with Dad. Always have been.’

‘Yes. And it’s easier for you.’

‘Don’t be so hard, Mia.’

‘It’s just the truth, isn’t it? You should face the truth. That’s what you say.’

‘Yes. I guess so. What about school and everything? There’s a special place in Bristol and Dad thought –’

‘I know. I could live with you. And go to the school. But you don’t want me, and I don’t want it either. Not now. I’ll have to work something out.’

‘I can help in other ways, Mia. With money, for instance. Now I’ve got a proper job. You heard about that, didn’t you?’

‘Yes.’

‘Aren’t you pleased for me?’

Mia shrugged. ‘It’s what you want, isn’t it? It’s nothing to do with me. I’ll get Dad back in.’