“Can I come in?”
Claire turned to see her mother poking her head around her door. She nodded warily. The last two days had been interminable, with all of the Wests inching round each other, speaking in staccato bursts. Now it was Monday and Andrew was returning to Manchester and her parents were planning to go back to London. Marie was still hoping Claire would come with them.
Marie came into the room slowly, glancing around. Quickly Claire checked that the curtains were straight, the pillows perfectly plump. Then she grimaced inwardly at the realization and deliberately sat on the bed, ruffling the smooth starchiness of the duvet.
“I need to go to work…” Although she didn’t even know if Dan was expecting her. Maybe he considered their abbreviated conversation on Saturday her notice.
“I’m sorry,” Marie said abruptly, and Claire gaped. Now, that was unexpected. “I think I made a mistake with you. A lot of mistakes.”
This was new. Claire wasn’t sure how to respond, and after a few seconds she asked carefully, “What kind of mistakes?”
With a delicate sigh Marie perched on the edge of a chair, her posture perfectly straight. “I coddled you. Protected you too much.” She paused, her gaze distant. “You know before all the trouble with your ear I was a GP?”
“Yes...” She’d known that in an academic sort of way, but she’d never really thought about it. Her mother had never worked outside of the home in Claire’s memory. She could not picture her in a white lab coat and stethoscope, being brisk and efficient.
“I stopped when you first became ill because you had so many hospital appointments, and it didn’t make sense to continue. But I never went back because I suppose I felt guilty.”
“Guilty?” That was one emotion Claire had never thought her mother felt.
“Yes, because I missed it, Claire.” Marie’s voice wobbled a little. “You had ear infections constantly and you kept complaining and I missed it. The reason you’re deaf in one ear is because I didn’t have you checked out soon enough. If I had taken you to a specialist sooner, they would have been able to remove the cholesteatoma and there would have been no damage to your ear.” Her mother’s mouth twisted. “No deafness.”
“Anyone could have missed it, Mum.”
“They’re not usually as bad as yours was.” Marie continued as if Claire hadn’t spoken. “Cholesteatomas. Most children recover and regain full hearing. But not you, and that was my fault.” She sighed, her manicured fingers brushing what Claire realized was a tear from her perfectly made-up eye. “So I went a bit overboard in protecting you. Keeping you off school and such. Trying to shield you from everything. From life.”
And obsessing over every part of her life. Making her the career she’d given up, yet clearly missing what she’d had. For the first time it occurred to Claire that maybe she wasn’t the sole cause of her mother’s disappointment.
“I wish I’d known that before,” she said.
“Perhaps I should have told you.” Marie uncrossed her legs and rose from the chair. Their heart-to-heart, such as it had been, was clearly over. “So. You’re not really thinking of staying here, are you, Claire?”
Claire nearly laughed. Had her mother actually been trying to guilt her into going, by telling her that little sob story? Or did she simply have no other way to operate? It felt freeing, in a weird way, to be back on familiar ground.
“I’m not just thinking of it, Mum,” she said. “I’m doing it.” And for once she felt completely sure not just of what she was doing, but ofherself.
Her parents left that afternoon, in a cloud of Chanel and martyred disappointment. Claire had some more sympathy for her mother now that she understood more about what had happened, but not that much. She wasn’t going to live her life for her parents any longer.
And now she had to have a few hard conversations. The first one, she thought, might actually be satisfying.
Hugh picked up on the second ring. “Claire?” He sounded surprised and impatient and annoyed all at once. Claire smiled.
“Hello, Hugh.”
Silence, save for the sound of him breathing through his nose. “I didn’t expect to hear from you.”
“I know. Although I thought you might want your ring back.”
“Claire—”
“Shall I post it? You should use it again, Hugh. I’m sure you can find another appropriate socialite for a wife.” She spokewithout bitterness, almost lightly, and Hugh let out an impatient sigh.
“Look, clearly we need to talk. I wanted to give you some time....”
“You’re not asking me to come back, are you?” Hugh was silent, and Claire laughed. “I thought not. I embarrassed you too badly. And we never had much in common, anyway. You didn’t love me, and I didn’t love you.”
Hugh was silent for a long moment. “You sound different,” he finally said.
“I am different,” Claire answered. “I’m trying to be, and I’m succeeding.” Her voice came out strong, strident. “We both know it’s over, Hugh. Thank God the disaster has been averted. I’ll send you your ring.”
