The Family Trap (23 page)

‘Your turn, Edie,’ he says. She picks up her cards and swiftly moves them around in her hand, splaying them out in a fan shape when she’s satisfied. She picks up a card from the top of the pack, regards it carefully for a full minute, then sighs and lays it down. Turns back to me.

‘What I don’t understand,’ she says, holding her cards to her narrow chest, ‘is how they pulled it off. I can see why they did it, but how did they get Paul to think you’d invited him?’

I pull my chair in a little closer. ‘You’ll never believe it. They conned me into signing the invitation. Said it was a birthday card for some distant relative.’

Edie snorts with laughter and I give a little huff. ‘It’s not funny. I feel really, really stupid. Not to mention completely humiliated.’

Rosa is staring hard at her cards while the others look on impatiently. The impatience of the older generation was a surprise to me when I first started working here. You’d think they had all the time in the world to play cards, say, or read a book or finish a project. But no
– there’s a sense of urgency about the folks here that is hard to explain. It’s not just the sense that time may be about to run out. It’s more of an itchy restlessness. Maybe after a life of rushing from one task to the next it’s impossible to slow down. Even when you can. Even the residents who are forced, by illness or incapacity, to do little more than sit and watch TV all day do so with an inherent urgency, gobbling up the images on the screen, impatient for the next programme to begin. They make me tired just watching them.

‘I’ll buy that,’ shouts Violet the minute Rosa throws down a card. She duly parts with two pence – this card playing is a serious business, carried out with prize money at stake – and then seizes her new card with relish.

‘Much good it’ll do her,’ Edie whispers to me. ‘She’s collecting aces. No one ever gives away aces when it’s two sets of five.’

‘But Rosa just did,’ I point out.

‘She’s playing with Violet’s head. Mind games. Trying to psych her out.’

I suppress a giggle and shake my head at Edie.

‘Can you really understand why they did it?’ I ask. She raises her eyebrows questioningly. ‘You said just now that you could see why they did it but not how. Can you really?’

And if you can, could you please explain it to me?

‘They want you to be happy, Stella. And they probably thought that getting the two of you in the same place at the same time would enable you both to finally sort things out.’

‘That’s pretty much what they said,’ I agree. ‘But it kind of didn’t work out that way, did it?’

She shakes her head. Picks up a card, swaps it for one in her hand, then throws the spare away. ‘You can’t blame them for trying. They’re your family. They just want what’s best for you.’

Which is what, exactly? Now that Paul thinks the worst of me, should I run to him and try and explain? Or leave things the way they are? I’d love to ask Edie for advice. She has an aura of competence about her, of contentment and wisdom, the quiet peace of someone who’s seen it all. But it would be crossing a line, and I’m not sure she’d feel comfortable with the question. Anyway, it’s not her mess to sort out. It’s mine. And sitting here discussing it with Edie is not going to progress me any further along that road.

I stand up and stretch out my legs.

‘Whoa!’ says Franklin. ‘Someone’s forgotten their tabard.’

I look down at my bump and smile. ‘Not forgotten, Franklin. Deliberately discarded.’

Four pairs of eyes regard me warily.

‘Stella,’ Edie says, ‘are you sure you’re ready to do this?’

‘Not really. But I’m sick of hiding it, Edie. I’m sick of feeling guilty about this baby. Now Paul knows, it seems crazy to try and keep it from Velma and the others. Besides, I’ve completely run out of clothes baggy enough to hide it anymore.’

‘It is a very large bump,’ says Rosa, her lips pursed in concern.

‘And that bloody tabard is so uncomfortable now.’ Although strangely practical. I kind of miss it. When the baby comes I might even buy one to wear at home.

This is just one of the reasons why I will no doubt be on my own forever.

‘But what about Velma?’ Edie asks. ‘What will she say?’

‘She can say whatever the hell she likes,’ I tell them bravely. ‘This is two thousand and twelve. There are all sorts of employment laws to protect mums-to-be. She’ll just have to deal with it, won’t she?’

Rosa claps her hands delightedly, and Violet and Franklin join in.

‘You go for it, Stella,’ says Franklin.

Edie stands up and lays down her cards.

‘I’ll come with you,’ she says. ‘Just in case.’

I start to protest – I’m pretty sure Edie was only one card away from two sets of five – but then I notice where her eyes are trained. Making her way across the TV lounge, stopping to give each resident she passes a pat on the arm or a brief hug, is Maude. And she’s heading straight for the card table.

‘Come on, then.’ I grab Edie by the hand and we race for the opposite exit. Race is perhaps overstating it somewhat. An arthritic old lady and a pregnant care worker – we must make an odd sight as we burst out into the corridor and collapse, giggling, against the wall.

Edie follows me as far as the staffroom, then says she feels quite tired and might just go for a little lie down.

‘You’ll be fine on your own, Stella,’ she says, still keeping up the charade that this was why she left the game of cards.

But as she turns to walk away, I just can’t help myself. It’s the sadness in her eyes that does it. Life was perfect for Edie before Maude came. And even though Twilight’s newest resident is sweetness and light personified, I can only imagine how hard it must be for Edie to see herself replaced as Franklin’s favourite.

‘It’ll wear off soon, you know,’ I say.

She looks around, surprised. Raises a drawn-on eyebrow.

‘What will, dear?’

I swallow. Too late to back out now. Stepping closer, I smile and say, ‘You know what Franklin’s like. It’s just the novelty – a new face, someone to charm. But you and him, you’ve always been so …’

How to put it? I’ve seen the way he looks at her, how protective he is of her. And I’m sure Edie’s feelings for him go way beyond close friendship. But what do I know of love in your twilight years? I can’t even figure out love in your thirties.

Edie smiles and shakes her head. ‘Oh, Stella, you are funny. I’m fine, really I am. You mustn’t worry about me. You’ve got enough on your plate. Now, run along and face the music. I can’t wait to hear all about it later.’

But Edie can’t hide the way her smile slides off her face as she turns away to open her door.

*

‘Martha, where’s Velma?’

Figuring it will be best to just get it over and done with, I’ve decided to seek out my boss and confront her with the news as soon as possible. Martha’s face is a picture of confusion, astonishment, and finally delight, as she takes in my bump.

‘Oh, Stella,’ she says, leaping off her chair and running around the reception desk to hug me. ‘You never said! How on earth did you manage to keep this to yourself?’

‘A combination of baggy clothes and subterfuge. And the help of a few of our lovely residents,’ I tell her with a smile.

‘Ah, well. It all makes sense now. All those times Velma couldn’t find you and Edie said you’d been helping her in the garden. I thought, gardening? That’s not in Stella’s job description.’

‘Edie’s been a star.’

‘And that time Bernie stole Violet’s false teeth
– was that you too?’

‘A diversion. I was throwing up all over Edie’s slippers at the time.’

Martha shakes her head in amazement. ‘Wow. You’re a sly one, aren’t you? So, how far gone are you? Looks like you’re about to drop.’

‘It’s all the cakes I’ve been eating. Actually I’ve got over a month to go yet.’

‘Jesus! You’re enormous for eight months. My Dora was half your size right up until the end. It really is incredible you’ve been able to keep it hidden. Mind you, I did say to Jean the other day that I thought you’d been comfort eating after your break up with … Oh, my. What about Paul? Is this why you broke up? Didn’t he want a baby? Or …’ Her eyes go wide with alarm. ‘Isn’t it his?’

Et tu, Brute
.

‘Contrary to popular opinion,’ I say huffily, ‘I am not carrying another man’s child. Now, if you could just tell me where Velma is, I’ll get out of your hair.’

Martha gives me a look that says she thinks I protest too much, and that I’ve just confirmed her suspicions, then tells me that Velma has been called out to meet with the board of directors.

‘Really? What for?’

‘I don’t know. It was all very mysterious. The secretary phoned this morning and said Velma had to go to head office at twelve o’clock sharp.’

‘Interesting.’ I look at my watch: it’s half past one. I can’t help but hope that Velma is right now being given a severe bollocking. Goodness knows I could think of enough reasons for her to be in trouble with the board. She’s evil to her staff, indifferent to the residents’ needs, and so power-crazed she has a photo of herself above the reception desk. I look up at it now and smile.

‘She won’t be back before the end of my shift, then,’ I say with a fake sigh. ‘What a shame.’

‘Wait till Jean hears about the baby,’ Martha calls as I head off to finish my rounds. I lift a hand to wave but don’t turn around. Let her be the one to spread the word amongst the rest of the staff. Saves me a job.

I finish up in double-quick time, and head into the lounge to say goodbye to Edie. Mid afternoon on a Sunday everyone gathers in here for family visits. Of course, hardly any families actually visit, but the ones who do are shared out amongst the residents like chocolates. Today there’s an adorable little girl with a red flower headband standing in the middle of the room reciting Humpty Dumpty to an audience with hushed, delighted faces. A woman who must be her mother holds a baby to her shoulders and bounces up and down on her toes. I smile and wave to Sally from the kitchen, who looks down at my stomach and gives me a thumbs up. Sally has three children, all of them under four, and often says she doesn’t know why she works at all with the cost of childcare what it is.

Which starts me thinking again about how I’ll manage when Bump comes along.

I love my job, and even though the money isn’t wonderful, it’s enough to live on. I need to look into my rights pretty damn quick, and work out just how long I can afford to stay home with the baby before I’m forced to start thinking about childminders. And speaking of childminders, Lipsy had better sort herself out with one soon. I’m not going to be able to keep up with one job for much longer, let alone two.

These days, that dodgy friend of hers isn’t looking like such a terrible prospect.

And it’s right then, as I’m leaning against the flock wallpaper at the edge of the TV lounge, that the thought pops into my head. It’s just the tiniest grain of an idea, a seed that plants itself in the front of my brain and begins to grow. I watch the little girl singing; I take in Sally’s encouraging smile. I consider all the hopeful expressions of joy on the faces in front of me.

I need a pen and paper. Right now.

Chapter 25

By the next morning I’m buzzing with excitement and I know exactly what I’m going to do. A quick phone call to Twilight’s board of directors gets the wheels in motion, and if the secretary is surprised at my suggestion she doesn’t show it. I don’t mention Velma. It’s none of my business. I’ve got three days off work now and I’m going to use them to move forward with my life. Suddenly my priorities are clearer than they’ve been for years. My new baby needs me, that’s number one. He or she needs a home and a loving, calm, happy mother. I’m going to work hard on that. Lipsy and Phoenix are priority number two. I’ve been woefully negligent of my daughter – as evidenced by her frantic, and disastrous, efforts to bring Paul and me together. If she’d felt able to talk to me properly maybe none of that would have happened. Oh, I blame myself for a lot of things. It’s time for me to make it right, and the first thing I’m going to do is take Lipsy to see my mother. I have a plan that I think might solve all our problems. Well, maybe not all of them. But hopefully quite a few.

The third priority is Paul. I have to disabuse him of the idea that I’m having someone else’s baby. To do this I’ll need to talk to him. I’ve dialled his number five times already but hung up before it began to ring. I need more time. I need to think it through. So for now I’m going to pop it in the part of my mind called Ignore, and get on with everything else. I have to, for sanity’s sake.

Paul and I – maybe we’ll never manage to sort it out. I have to consider that possibility. Maybe we’ve had our chance. Maybe we’ve had too many chances. And each of us, in our own crazy ways, has messed it up again and again. When I saw him on Saturday I knew that there will never be anyone else for me. He’s the love of my life, and there was a time when I would have done anything for him. Before I found out about the baby. Before I found out how diametrically opposed our views about family life are. And it tears me apart to have lost him. Seeing him in the church, feeling how he lifted every cell in my body, made me vibrate with love and desire … Even now, I can’t believe we won’t get back together. Life without Paul seems unimaginable. But I’m not sure if we even deserve to be together anymore. I just don’t know. So right now I’m focusing on priorities one and two, and Paul will just have to wait a little longer.

‘Grandma’s?’ complains Lipsy when I tell her where we’re headed. She wanted me to babysit today but I flat-out refused. Since the Paul debacle she’s not pushing me so hard. But I doubt the moaning will ever stop, no matter how bad she feels.

‘Great, Mum,’ she whines as I strap Phoenix into his car seat. ‘My first day off in ages, and you’re taking me to Grandma’s. I really wanted to go shopping.’

‘What do you need to buy?’ I ask.

‘Nothing,’ she says. ‘Just, you know, shopping.’