‘Right here, Mum.’
‘I need to tell you…’
The words got stuck.Jammed.They wouldn’t come out.She prayed that Bernadette or Clara would step in, but they didn’t, because they both understood that this had to be Marge’s conversation.She had to decide what to say, how much to reveal.And if she changed her mind, couldn’t find the courage, she had absolutely no doubt that they would cover for her and her secret would go with her to her grave.
But wasn’t that the problem?It was cruel to let some secrets die.
‘Estelle, I wanted you to meet Clara.’Her voice was hoarse again, still barely a whisper, and Bernadette immediately jumped up, lifted her water glass and held it to Marge’s lips.
She took a sip, the liquid cooling her throat enough to continue.
‘Estelle, I… Clara… I…’ Damn, the words.She couldn’t find the order she should place them in.She took a breath, went back to the start, summoned the kind of strength of voice she’d been unable to find all day.Estelle’s future depended on it.‘I need to tell you something I should have shared with you long before now.And I’m so sorry.I need you to know that before I tell you.I’m so, so sorry.And please forgive me.’Marge felt water slide from the corners of her eyes.
Bernadette helped her drink a little more.
‘When I got married to your dad, I was already expecting you.’
An almost visceral sob wracked her body.She’d said it.She’d done it.Did you hear that, Ian?
‘And Clara…’ A cough rose and Marge gave into it, grateful when Bernadette raised the glass to her lips yet again.
When she could speak again, she turned to Clara…
‘Clara?Please…’ she whispered, giving unspoken permission.
‘I’m so sorry to meet under these circumstances,’ Clara said, in that gentle voice that Marge knew so well.‘And I’m sorry too – I know this must all be such a shock.As your mum said, when she got married, she was already pregnant with you.And the reason I’m here is because your father is my husband, Lester.’
Marge saw Clara’s gaze return to her, and she mouthed a silent, ‘Thank you,’ before turning back to her daughter, ready to face the consequences of her secrets and her decisions.
She was ready for anger.For disbelief.She wouldn’t blame Estelle if she walked out right now and didn’t return.What she’d done was treacherous.Unforgivable.But when her gaze met Estelle’s…
…all she saw…
…was understanding.
‘Mum, it’s okay, I promise.There’s nothing to forgive.Because I’ve known that for a long time.’
27
AMBER
‘Do you want me to wait again, hen?I tell you, I could get used to this personal chauffeur business.If you ever win the lottery, me and my Skoda are at your service.In fact, do you know that Skodas…’
Wiki Taxi Driver launched into a diatribe about the history of the Skoda, which was mercifully cut short by their arrival at the main door of Glasgow Central Hospital.As they slid to a halt, Amber answered his earlier question.‘No, it’s fine, thank you.I don’t need you to wait.’She had no idea how long it would take for her to find Marge’s room, and going by the people streaming out of the doors, visiting time was already over, so they might not let her in, and if they did, Estelle may not even be there.
This might be a completely wasted trip, but she had to try, because if she didn’t, she wasn’t sure she wouldn’t wake up tomorrow and change her mind about the whole bloody thing.
Seeing Ewan tonight was like throwing her brain into a bubbling vat of Sid’s favourite slime, and then watching it explode and paste the walls.Actually, that was a bit too graphic an image and it was now making her feel queasy.But the point was, she was confused.Mixed up.Had no idea what she wanted or why.If anyone had told her yesterday that she would be knocking on Ewan’s door today, or trying desperately to track down Estelle, she’d have given them Calpol and told them to have a lie-down.
Yet here she was.
‘Right, here you go…’ she said to Wiki Taxi Driver, tapping her credit card against the machine, and this time giving a generous tip.He deserved it.He’d single-handedly facilitated her crusade to sort out her life tonight.Or to wreck it.It was yet to be decided.‘Thanks again,’ she said, hand on door.‘You’ve been an education.And I’ll definitely remember you if I win the lottery.’
‘Do you know that the lottery…’ he began, but she was out of the door before he got any further.
Dodging the visitors who were coming out of the doors in the opposite direction to where she was headed, she walked swiftly into the foyer and searched for the information board.There it was.She marched over, consulted the list.Elderly ward.Fourth Floor.Right then.Lifts?
Another scan of the lobby.Other than her prolonged visit to the Emergency Department today, she’d only been in this hospital a few times – twice to give birth in the maternity unit, once due to the unfortunate incident with the pruning shears, and an overnight stay in paediatrics, where she slept on a roll-up bed next to Sid, who’d been admitted with suspected appendicitis – so she wasn’t familiar with the layout.
