“That must have been awful for you.” Abby thought about her mother, her trust already broken by the behaviour of her father. “It must have taken a lot for you to trust someone again, and he let you down badly. What a horrible situation.”
“Yes, and for her, although she handled it with great dignity. I wasn’t his first affair.”
“But—” Abby frowned. “He left you the hotel. That was how you got started. I know it was in trouble, but—”
“He left me nothing.” Her mother’s voice was flat. “He left you nothing. It was his wife who gave me the hotel.”
“Hiswife?”
“Yes. I’m not even sure what she did or how she did it, but she spoke to lawyers and then came and spoke to me. She didn’t feel it was right that he’d left you with no support, and nor did she want to hold on to a hotel that she would associate with his infidelity. She wanted a fresh start. And she warned me that the hotel was something of a poisoned chalice because it wasn’t doing well, but I didn’t care about that. I knew I could turn it around.”
Abby was silent for a moment, absorbing that new piece of information.
“I can’t believe she did that—”
“It was unbelievably generous.Shewas generous. She had every right to punish me and turn away, but she didn’t. She gave me a helping hand, and I never forgot that.”
Abby swallowed the lump in her throat. “Did you stay in touch?”
“No.” Her mother gave a humourless laugh. “She didn’t want the reminders. And I wouldn’t have wanted them, either.”
“Did she have children herself?”
“No. They’d decided together that they didn’t want children, which also explained why he panicked. Anyway, last thing I heard—which was many years ago—she’d moved to Australia. I hope she built a good life for herself. She deserved that.”
Abby sat for a moment, absorbing this information. As a child, she’d occasionally imagined wistfully how it might have been to have her father in her life, but the scenarios she’d conjured in her young brain all had a fairy-tale quality to them. Herfather teaching her to ride a bike. Her father cheering her on in a swimming competition or listening intently as she played the piano. It was funny how when you yearned for something, you assumed you’d get the best possible version.Be careful what you wish for.
Abby was silent for a moment, digesting the enormity of it and trying to put herself in her mother’s shoes. “Who was with you when I was born?”
“I was alone, but I had a kind midwife.”
Picturing it, Abby felt her eyes sting. She thought she knew something about loneliness but her experience paled into insignificance compared with her mother’s. Her heart ached for her, but at the same time she felt a flicker of awe and admiration.
“I can’t bear to think about you dealing with all that by yourself. It breaks my heart.”
Her mother smiled. “I wasn’t by myself. I had you, and you were everything. I didn’t need anyone else. I’d learned by then that I was better on my own. Life was more stable. Both the men in my life had proved unreliable. I knew I had to learn to rely on myself. For my sake, but also for yours. I was the only person I trusted to build a life for the two of us. In those early days I learned to be my own best friend. No one knew me better than I did. No one knew what I needed better than I did. And yes, those early years were hard because I was trying to care for you and turn the hotel around, but they were also surprisingly happy—again, mostly because of you.”
“But I must have been an extra burden for you at a time when you were trying to make the hotel work.”
Her mother let go of her hand and shifted so that she could look at her.
“You were a joy. Right from the moment you were born.You gave me purpose, but more than that you made me happy. And it reminded me of the early years of my own childhood, and it made me determined that you would never, ever feel the same rejection I’d felt. That drove everything I did.”
And it had driven the way she’d chosen to parent her only child. Abby saw it clearly now. Her mother’s seemingly impossibly high expectations had come from a fierce desire to do her best for her daughter. To give her the tools to deal with adversity. To prepare her for the world. And her reluctance to talk about the past, which had frustrated Abby on many occasions, had also come from a desire to shield her daughter.
Abby felt a warmth spread through her. Her mother, who had been hurt badly herself, had been determined to protect her. “You’re a wonderful mother. I’m lucky.”
“In some ways you are lucky, and in other ways you’re not. But that’s true of life in general, I suppose.”
“How did you do it?” She blurted out the words. “Through all that loneliness, hurt and disappointment. How did you keep going?”
“Because the alternative to keeping going is giving up, and I’m not the giving up type. Also, I had you.” Her mother lifted her hand and stroked Abby’s cheek. “I love you very much. I don’t tell you often enough, but I hope you know.”
She’d never seen her mother this way before. She’d never guessed how much was going on beneath the surface. How much she’d had to deal with. How had she managed it all? How had she built the life she’d built from the rubble of her past?
Abby’s eyes filled and tears spilled down her cheeks. “I love you, too. And I’m pleased you’re here now, and that you’ve told me everything.”
Her mother let her hand drop.
