‘There’s plenty of space here so as you said, you’ll be fine. We’ll get by. There’s all the stuff from when you three were babies and Rosina’s came along. We can give it all a dust down.’
‘I’d like that. Our family heirlooms.’
A smile from her mother and then another expected question and offer. ‘And do you intend to go back to work after? Me and your gran will help out with childcare like we did with Rosina’s mini tribe, that’s a given. I wouldn’t want your dreams of being a hotshot solicitor to be shelved when there’s no need.’
Violetta’s heart dipped while her brain told her face not to let on. ‘Oh yes. I want to be able to provide for the baby myself so I’ll be going back to work as soon as I can but that’s a way off yet. For now I have to get my head around being a mum. I’m sure you know that feeling.’
Her mum reached over, giving Violetta’s hand a squeeze as she spoke. ‘Oh I do and I think you’ll be just fine, love. But I do need to ask the big question and I have a funny feeling I won’t like the answer. You and I don’t do beating about the bush, do we?’
Pre-empting what her mum was about to ask, Violetta took the initiative, wanting to get it over with. ‘No we don’t. So in answer to your question I have no idea who the dad is. It was someone on holiday. A one-night stand, I suppose. He’s called Gabe, no surname. Sorry, Mum, but that’s the truth of it. And yes, I know, Gran’s going to bloody love that when she finds out!’
‘Never mind what your gran says and to be fair, I think she might surprise you. She has a habit of doing that once a decade. For now let’s focus on you and that baby. The rest we’ll make up as we go along. Right, let’s start with some lunch. I have fresh sausage rolls in the Aga with your name on them.’ Pushing back the chair she went to the oven and opened one of the three doors to release the heavenly aroma of warm pastry.
After the big announcement and a plate of sausage rolls, life simply jogged on. Violetta suspected that privately her mum may have had a weep. Disappointed tears over a stalled career and a very expensive degree. Not so much the daddy factor. Her mum wouldn’t give a monkey’s about that.
The family rallied as Violetta knew they would. A new baby was a reason to rejoice, to prepare, to look forward. She had never doubted her mum, not for one second. Just like Appleton Farm she was their sanctuary and with her, you would be safe.
Appleton Farm, Cheshire. Present day
Footsteps in the hallway preceded the arrival of the woman herself who immediately came over and planted a kiss on the top of Violetta’s bobble hat and wrapped her in a long hug.
‘Well, this is a very unexpected but pleasant surprise, I must say. To what do I owe the honour and why aren’t you at work?’ Letting go she headed over to the back door, chatting as she went.
‘Don’t tell me you’re poorly too. Our Rosina has rung in sick which is very unusual, and she’s not answering her phone either. Have you heard from her?’ Once she’d opened the door, without needing to be bidden three very waggy dogs raced inside, going suitably daft when they saw their guest and only when she’d greeted them all one by one, they abandoned her for a slurp of water and their bed by the stove.
‘No, I haven’t. She’s probably asleep so leave her be. I hope she’s better by Sunday though.’
The click of the kettle prompted her mum to finish the job Violetta had started and as she watched her fill the cups with water, she checked who was in the house before beginning her speech. ‘Is Bern here? I saw his coat on the stand.’
‘No, he’s at work. He leaves coats all over the place. That’ll be his dog-walking one. Right, here we go, have you eaten? I can make you some breakfast before I head down to the centre. I said I’d stand in if Rosina left them short-handed.’ Placing the mugs on the table her mum pulled out her chair at the top.
‘Sorry Mum, am I holding you up? I’ll drop you off if you want when we’ve had this, save you walking.’ Violetta felt slightly glad her mum had to go out, then reminded herself that she couldn’t keep putting it off and if she didn’t get it over with now, she’d only have to say it on Sunday and then her sisters would be there. She wanted to broach the subject of coming home in private; the other thing would unfortunately have to wait until after Christmas.
‘Oh, it’s fine, there’s no rush. So, what’s up? It’s written all over your face that something is bothering you so come on, let’s have it. Tell your old mum everything.’
Taking a sip of her coffee, Violetta winced at the irony of her mum’s comment so before she lost momentum and nerve, she rolled her eyes and took a deep breath. ‘I can’t kid you, can I, Mum?’
‘Nope, so, go on, what’ve you done this time?’
Placing her cup on the table, Violetta folded her arms and let her palms connect with the grain, channelling confessions of the past while hoping that at the other end of the table Granny Sylvia had popped down from heaven, ignored house rules and lit a cig and was there to back her up, or call her a pain in the arse. The latter probably.
‘Well, the thing is… it’s looking like after the new year I’ll be out of a job and if I get a bit tight for money, could me and Darcy come home, until I get myself straight?’
When her mum sighed, then smiled and reached out to wrap long fingers around hers, Violetta knew it was going to be okay. Some of it, anyway.
17
Leonora
Selfridges, Manchester
Present day
When the screen lit up and she saw Caspar’s name, Leonora looked for a quiet corner in Selfridges where she could speak to him in some kind of privacy. She was already annoyed that he’d read her messages and hadn’t bothered to acknowledge them, so along with being tired from her shift, his stupid mind games were the last thing she needed. Or the attention of the creepy security guard who was eyeing her up.
‘At last, he replies.’ Leonora absent-mindedly flicked through the rail of Christmas jumpers that she had zero intention of buying but conscious of looking like a shoplifter, feigned interest in Santa and his pompom nose.
‘Sorry, I was in a meeting and couldn’t text back and anyway, you’ve got room to talk. I’ve forgotten what you look like, with or without clothes.’
