The Family Trap (24 page)

‘So you desperately needed me to babysit for you so you could go shopping for nothing?’

She nods and shrugs her skinny shoulders.

See what I’m up against here?

When we arrive at my mother’s, I let us in and call out a cheery hello. She appears from the general direction of the kitchen wearing a comedy apron and covered in flour.

‘Hey, Mum, nice underwear,’ I say, adding a wolf whistle for good measure. The apron has a woman’s curvy figure, neck to thighs, clad in a black basque. ‘No wonder Dad can’t keep his hands off you,’ I tease, grinning.

Since the blessing, things have been easier between us. I don’t know exactly why, but I’m glad of it. I need all the help I can get right now, and smooth family relations are a great way to start.

‘Very funny, Stella,’ she says. And then she notices Lipsy and Phoenix standing behind me. ‘Phee!’ she cries, making a lunge for him. ‘Sorry, I mean Phoenix. Oh, how lovely to see my little boy.’

Lipsy gives me a look over her grandma’s shoulder, but I put on my most innocent face. It’s not my fault people want to shorten Phoenix’s name, is it? If Lipsy doesn’t like it, she should have picked a different name.

‘Hi, Grandma,’ she says wearily. ‘What are you up to?’

‘Aha. You’ll have to come and see.’

In the kitchen a flour bomb has gone off, and there is barely a surface which isn’t littered with bits of cake or icing sugar or some kind of cooking detritus.

‘Doing a spot of baking, Mum?’ I ask nonchalantly.

‘Funny, Stella,’ she says again. ‘I’m trying to make the perfect Victoria sponge,’ she explains to Lipsy. ‘Fancy giving me a hand?’

Lipsy shrugs and allows an apron – not of the saucy variety, thank goodness – to be tied around her waist. My mother’s excitement is palpable. She’s never managed to get me involved in mum and daughter baking, but I think having Lipsy around might be perfect for her. I smile to myself and pull a chair up to my mum’s huge kitchen table.

‘So, to what do I owe this pleasure?’ says my mother, beaming. ‘I don’t usually get to see my two girls and my great grandson on a Monday morning.’

She’s still feeling bad, that’s partly why she’s being so nice to me. But I’ve forgiven them all for their subterfuge. They had the best of intentions. Never mind that the road to hell is paved with good intentions – I’ve made enough mistakes of my own in the name of trying to do the right thing to be in any position to judge others.

Still, it’s nice to have a surprise up my sleeve. A way for her and dad, not to mention Lipsy and Robert, to make it up to me big time.

I accept her offer of a cup of tea, and once she and Lipsy are elbow-deep in flour and cake mix, I drop my bombshell. Casually at first, then with the killer blow.

‘So, Mum, I’ve been thinking about that offer you and Dad made.’

‘What offer was that?’ chirps in Lipsy.

‘Your grandma and granddad offered to convert the garage for me and the baby to live in.’

‘Wow! Really? That’s so cool.’

My mother beams at her some more. This is all going perfectly to plan.

‘Isn’t it?’ I enthuse. ‘And it would be so perfect, having someone on hand to babysit whenever I wanted to go out. And anytime I didn’t feel like cooking I could just come in here and join in with Mum and Dad. That garage is actually really big, you know. There’s easily room for two bedrooms and a lounge.’

‘So cool,’ says Lipsy again. ‘And it’ll all be brand new? You’ll be able to choose the fit out and everything?’

‘Yup. And guess what? They’re going to partition off a part of the garden for us too. Our own outdoor space to boot.’

Lipsy tuts and mutters how jammy I am. I’m having a hard time keeping a straight face.

‘Have you decided to take us up on the offer?’ asks my mother. I can’t tell from her expression whether she’s truly behind the idea or not. Probably it was my dad’s brainchild. A chance for him to get back into renovating again, add a bit of value to the house and solve a few housing problems along the way.

Lipsy looks across at me expectantly, but I shake my head. ‘No. It’s such a lovely offer, but it’s just not right for me. Not at my stage of life. And the thing is, I already have a house all of my own. It would be wrong of me to take you up on it, Mum. Selfish and wrong.’

I wait. Lipsy spoons some of the cake mix into a round tin, then stiffens and swirls around to face me.

‘Oh my God! I’ve just had the most amazing idea! How about if we move in instead?’

‘Who?’ I say, feigning confusion.

‘Me, Rob and Phoenix, of course. Grandma, don’t you think it’s the perfect solution? We can move into the new flat and mum can have her house back. Oh, it’ll be wonderful. Our own place, with a garden for Phoenix to run around in. Mum, you don’t mind, do you? You did just say it wasn’t right for you.’

I heave myself up and hold out my arms. Lipsy runs across the kitchen and gives me a floury hug.

‘I think it’s a brilliant idea, Lipsy. I don’t know why on earth I didn’t think of it myself.’

‘No,’ says my mother, wryly. ‘I don’t know why you didn’t, either.’

I smile at her over Lipsy’s head and she grins back. ‘You’ll be able to see your great grandson every day,’ I tell her. ‘And you can teach Lipsy here how to cook.’

‘And you can bring the baby over for play dates with Phoenix when it’s older. Oh, I’m so excited.’ Lipsy turns to my mum and claps her hands. I honestly haven’t seen her this animated since her eighth birthday and we hired a magician with real white rabbits. ‘Don’t you think it will be perfect, Grandma?’

My mother lifts Phoenix out of his bouncer and holds him high in the air. ‘Perfect. And what do you think, little man? Could you live in Great Grandma’s garage, do you think?’

‘Will Granddad mind?’ asks Lipsy, looking worried all of a sudden.

‘Mind what?’

His timing is uncanny. I give him a kiss on the cheek as I walk past, and leave Lipsy to explain. On the way out I catch sight of myself in the over-sized hall mirror. ‘My work here is done,’ I say to my reflection in a mock superhero tone.

Now there’s just the rest of my life to sort out.

*

I figure things on the home front will change pretty quickly now
– Lipsy will be chomping at the bit to get my dad started on the conversion – so as soon as I get back to my bedsit I phone the landlord and give notice. Then I take a cup of tea downstairs and knock on Stephan’s door. Apart from his habit of picking up my mail, Stephan has proved to be the perfect neighbour. He never bothers me; I never bother him. Occasionally we meet in the hall, and once or twice I’ve sat on the stairs with him chatting about nothing at all. He’s quiet, self-contained, and if he has any friends I’ve never seen or heard them. Like I said, the perfect neighbour.

Soon I’ll be back living next door to Joshua’s goth tenants. I think I’d swap them for Stephan any day.

Unfortunately Stephan’s out – or more likely refusing to answer because he thinks it’s the bailiffs – so I trudge back up the stairs. Just in time to hear my phone ringing. I slop the cup of tea down on the sideboard and launch myself across the room: it might be Paul.

I look at the screen.

It’s not Paul.

‘Hi, Dad,’ I gasp, totally out of breath.

‘Are you OK?’

‘Fine. Just … been … running …’

‘You shouldn’t be out running in your condition,’ he says, clearly outraged.

‘Up the stairs,’ I finish.

He laughs. ‘Oh, right. Listen, you sped off so fast earlier I didn’t have time to talk to you. There’s something you need to know.’

‘Is it OK?’ I ask, alarmed. Dad putting the kybosh on my perfect plan is not in the script.

‘What?’

‘Lipsy and the whole converted garage thing. Did they tell you? Are you OK with it?’

‘Oh, sure. Yeah, great idea. Don’t know why you didn’t suggest it yourself, to be honest. You’re not as sharp as you used to be.’ He laughs again and I pull a face at the phone. The problem with being a master manipulator from behind the scenes is you can’t take any credit.

‘So what did you need to talk to me about?’

‘It’s about Paul.’

Suddenly the atmosphere in here has become decidedly frosty. I said I’d forgiven my family for getting involved. That doesn’t mean I’ve invited them to carry on with it.

‘Now, before I start I want you to know that he came to me. He phoned and asked if I’d meet with him. I thought about saying no, but he was pretty insistent, and I couldn’t help myself, Stella. I was still angry with him for all the stuff he said to you. I wanted to put him right.’

I flop down on the bed. The unmade bed, with the unwashed sheets and the bunched up duvet. I’ve let myself go lately, I admit it. Maybe it’s not such a bad thing that my family want to take over running my life.

‘Go on,’ I say tiredly.

‘I met him at the office. Smart Homes’ old office? He’s moving back in there, did you know about that? Relaunching on his own, doing some kind of property renovation-stroke-rental business for housing associations and charities. I wasn’t really listening, to be honest. I just wanted to throttle him.’

He pauses for a reaction but I wait him out. Eventually he carries on. ‘Anyway, to cut a long story short, I just thought you should know that I put him straight.’

‘About the baby?’

‘About everything. I told him I was with you the day you called off the wedding, and how torn up you were after what he said about not wanting to start a family with you. He cottoned on fairly quickly, give him his due, said that as you already knew you were carrying his baby that must have been quite a blow.’

‘And then some!’

I realise I’ve not taken a breath since my dad started talking. My head is spinning, and it’s not just the usual hunger taking over. ‘So? What did he say then?’

I can almost hear my dad shrugging. ‘That was it, really. I told him and then I left. I know you didn’t want us getting involved, but I figured we’d already done so much damage by forcing the two of you together like that, the least I could do was try to sort out the misunderstanding. You two, you’ve always been so …’

He tails off, but I can imagine what he was about to say. ‘Go on, Dad. Always been so what?’

‘The misunderstandings. The jumping to conclusions. Ever since the fire last year, ever since you two realised you meant more to each other than just friends, it’s been one thing after another. Your mother and I, we’ve wanted to bang your heads together this last six months, to be honest. What we did we did out of frustration. I’m sorry, Stella. It sounds harsh. But I know all about mistakes. I’ve suffered because of my own, and I’ve made those I love suffer too. And I know more about false pride than you or Paul ever could. So I did what I did, and I said what I said, and if you’re angry with me I’m sorry. But there it is.’

The room swims and comes back into focus. My eyes are brimming with tears and I blink furiously to make them go back in. I’m not angry. Far from it. I only wish my dad was sitting on the bed next to me and not just a voice on the phone.

‘I love you,’ I tell him, my voice little more than a squeak. ‘And I’m really, really grateful.’

‘I love you too, Stella. And I’ve always been proud of you. You’ll sort this out, I know you will. Only, no more misunderstandings, OK?’

‘OK,’ I whisper. I stare at the phone for a long time after he’s hung up.

I guess my problem is, I don’t know how to choose my battles. There was a battle I should have fought, but instead I just walked away. But maybe there comes a time when you’re too tired for fighting. And maybe that’s the day when you risk losing more than the love of your life. Maybe that’s the day you risk losing a little piece of yourself.

Chapter 26

When I go back to work on Thursday I’m buoyed up by the knowledge of what I’ve agreed with Twilight’s board of directors. This very morning I got a letter from them confirming everything. As I stow my bag in a locker, I wonder if Velma’s heard about the pregnancy yet.

I’m only five minutes into my shift when I find out the answer to my question.

She finds me in the TV lounge. I’m on the late shift today, which means I’m helping to clear up after lunch, and I’ve got three residents to get ready for their physiotherapy sessions. Edie is one of them, and I’m looking forward to getting her on her own later. I’ve got something planned for her too. I’m ready to take on the world at the moment.

Except for the little corner of the world called Paul Smart, that is.

I’m trying to convince Violet that it’s not time for
EastEnders
yet when I become aware that the room has gone quiet. Violet stops struggling for the remote control and looks over my shoulder. Then she turns her eyes to me and makes a cut-throat gesture across her neck. I stand slowly, smooth my maternity dress over my bump, and turn to face my boss.

‘Ah, Stella,’ she says, all business. ‘There you are. In my office, please. Right away.’

I take a step forward, but Franklin blocks my way. Edie steps up beside him, followed by Rosa and Violet and the five other residents who can stand on their own. Even Bernie shuffles forward on his Zimmer frame. I see Sally step out of the kitchen and position herself by the far wall. Maude, our newest resident, looks on from the sidelines, clearly amused.

The residents position themselves in a semicircle with me in the middle. Velma steps forward, her face set in hard lines.

‘Don’t go anywhere with her,’ Franklin whispers. ‘Make her talk to you right here.’

‘Stella,’ she says warningly. ‘My office. Right now.’ She can’t take her eyes off my bump. Probably asking herself how she missed it all this time; kicking herself for missing the opportunity to make my working life as difficult as possible during those tiring, sickness-imbued second trimester months.

I clear my throat. Franklin nudges me in the side. ‘Erm, I think I’d prefer it if we talked here. If that’s OK?’

You show ’em, Stella. Sounding like a real force to be reckoned with. Not.

‘It is not OK. I have some things to say to you and I would rather do it in private.’ Her face is turning red now, which is not a pleasant colour on someone with steely grey hair and jowls. I take a step forward, but a small hand on my arm holds me back.