‘And I’d like to talk to you about it.’
‘I don’t want to.’ This time the tone was mutinous.
‘But I do. Hear me out, will you?’
Frida let her chin drop to her chest so her hair fell over her face, obscuring her expression.
Callie pressed on doggedly. They needed to have this discussion, however painful. ‘I was nineteen when I became pregnant with you. I loved Sunil and he was my only boyfriend, the only person I’d ever slept with.’
‘God, Mum,’ Frida said, her voice muffled by hair. ‘Do you have to? This is sooo grim.’
Callie went on, determined. This needed to be said. ‘I lived with parents who weren’t cruel exactly, not in any conventional sense, but they were, and still are, lacking in any warmth, love or imagination. I was stifled. I only realised how dysfunctional my upbringing was when I began to hang out with Donna and her family. They became my proxy family. She became my sister. But I can’t tell you how much it hurt seeing how wonderful and generous andnormalher family was. In comparison to mine.’
Frida looked up, hooking a long black lock of hair behind her ear.
‘I was longing to find love.Cravingit. I suppose that’s why I tried to find love with Sunil. And I did, in a studenty way. I was a very young nineteen, very naïve, and determined to cram in as much life as I could. I’d missed out on so much growing up in that house. I’d been fed, had a roof over my head but that was about it. I ate dull food of which there was never enough, had hardly any books to read and the ones I had access to were strictly regulated by my mother. I was never allowed any friends round. Was encouraged not to make friends, to keep myself to myself as, “People can’t be trusted. They’re a bad lot, Calliope.” There was no life, no colour. Certainly no fun. I’ve often wondered why my mother named me Calliope,’ Callie continued, almost talking to herself. ‘It was the one and only imaginative and non-conformist thing she ever did. I have no idea what my parents thought would happen when I got to college and saw there was a whole new way to live. I thank whatever god is around up there that I had Donna.’
‘You met at school?’ Frida interrupted.
‘Yes, primary school. She joined when she was ten. Her family moved to Worcester because of her dad’s job. She got me through the worst of the years before I could escape. Sounds awful but I used to go to bed praying something would happen to my parents. Nothingtoodreadful, just enough to let me choose where I could live. And then I could go to live with Donna and her mum and dad.’
‘Oh, Mum! I knew you had it bad, but I had no idea it was like that!’
‘Well, I’ve purposely and deliberately put it behind me. Found out peoplecouldbe trusted, that theyweren’tall a bad lot. And that some could be very loveable indeed.’ Callie smiled over at her daughter. ‘I didn’t see much point in going on and onabout it.’ She wondered how Frida was going to react to the news that she’d just had a stilted phone conversation with her mother but didn’t think now was the time to tell her. ‘I don’t think either Sunil or I had much idea of birth control.’
‘Which you’ve always hammered into me.’
‘With just reason,’ Callie said, crisply. ‘So when I found out I was pregnant, I panicked.’
‘You would.’ Frida nodded. ‘So would I.’
Callie swallowed. This bit was going to be hard. ‘My first thought was–’
‘That you couldn’t go through with it.’ Frida was silent for a moment. ‘So,’ she said slowly, ‘what Sunil said was true?’
Callie reached over and grasped her daughter’s hand. ‘I’m so sorry but yes, I told him I’d booked into a clinic. The next thing I knew he and Vivek had gone. I was on my own, in a panic.’
Frida bit her lip. ‘How far did you get? Did you get to the clinic, get on the table?’ she demanded.
Callie shook her head so hard her auburn curls flew. ‘No.’ She couldn’t decipher her daughter’s emotion. ‘I didn’t even get as far as the clinic. When Sunil left I knew, I just knew I wanted the baby. It was all completely illogical. But that’s what I felt. I’m so sorry, Fri. I’m so very sorry you had to find out I considered having–’
‘Having me aborted?’
Callie covered her face with her hands. She didn’t think she had any left in her, but tears began to flow again. Her shoulders heaved. ‘Yes,’ she said brokenly. ‘But I couldn’t do it. I’m so sorry I even considered it, but I was desperate. You should never have had to deal with all this.’ She sobbed, heaved herself out of the deck chair and ran indoors.
Sometime later Callie sat at the kitchen work surface nursing a glass of water in shaking hands. She felt wrung out and fearful about how Frida would be. She heard her daughter murmursomething and then felt arms around her. Frida smelled fusty and in need of a shower but she didn’t care.
‘Tea?’ Frida asked.
‘Sod tea. I need something stronger.’
Frida gave a tiny smile and opened the fridge. Pouring a generous glass of white wine she pushed it over to her mother.
Callie drank half of it, wiped her mouth and then said, ‘That hit the spot. What a day. I’m so sorry, Frida, that you found out in the way you did. It was information you never needed to know. You must realise–’
‘Ssh. It’s okay.’
‘It’s okay?’ Callie asked, amazed. ‘You’ve found out that your own mother once considered getting rid of you and it’s okay?’
