Frida perched on the other kitchen stool as best she could with her injured leg. ‘Got to admit,’ she began slowly, ‘it was a helluva shock when Sunil mentioned it, especially as he seemed to think I knew all about it. It came out all casual when I was asking why he hadn’t found me before. Up to then I sort of assumed it was because he was busy with his own family.’
She looked down, twisting a lock of hair around her finger. ‘I even thought maybe you’d kept him away from me. I mean, I didn’t know anything about you two or how it had been between you or why you’d split up. Maybe you’d been protecting me from him. Then I wondered if it was because he didn’t care about me.’ She grimaced. ‘That was hard. Being rejected by your dad. It was driving me loco. Then, when he did get in touch I was made up. It answered so many questions. Except one. The big one. Why he didn’t know anything about me. It was hard thinking you’d lied to him, but I sort of understood. I mean, you were guarding yourself and me. Maybe he was the Big Bad. But he didn’t seem like that. Sunil’s always been so great. It was doing my head in. I tell you, Mum, my mental health’s been crazy.’
‘Don’t you want wine?’
‘Better not. Not with the painkillers.’
‘Sensible girl.’ Callie reached out and stroked a strand of hair off her daughter’s beautiful face. ‘But then you’ve always been my sensible girl. Were you angry with me because you thought I’d lied to Sunil? Or that I considered an abortion?’
‘Oh, I don’t know. Both, I suppose. Oh, Mum, it all got on top of me, so I ran off. Stupidly got in the car. Sorry. Got to the café and then heard about the beach huts so thought I’d try to get Austin’s gear for him. Didn’t mean to put you and Johnny in danger coming to find me.’
‘Forget that. We’re all okay, aren’t we?’
‘Mostly.’ Frida rubbed her leg.
‘I didn’t lie to Sunil, lovey. We agreed I should have a termination and he knew I’d booked an appointment before he went away. Don’t think the worse of him, Frida. Please don’t. He was young too and, in his way, had expectations from his own family.’ She pulled a face. ‘I don’t think they took kindly to the idea of their student son getting a girl pregnant so they sent him off to the States, along with Vivek. He went abroad and, as far as he knew, thought the problem, that was you, had been sorted.’
Frida gasped. ‘So that’s why he didn’t come to look for me?’
Callie nodded. ‘Only when he’d gone, I couldn’t go through with it and didn’t have any way of contacting him. I didn’t lie to him; I changed my mind but–’
‘He never knew!’
‘He never knew,’ Callie echoed. ‘And I had no way of telling him he had a beautiful, funny, clever daughter. What a mess, eh?’
‘Yeah, maybe.’
The two women sat in silence, processing.
‘But we’ve been all right though, haven’t we?’ Frida said eventually. ‘Without a bloke around? Just the two of us? I mean it’s great I can get to know my dad now but, if I’m really honest,I don’t feel I’ve missed out on anything.’ She grinned. ‘Apart from his child maintenance.’ She held up her hands to stave off Callie’s reaction. ‘Joking again!’
‘I suppose we’ve muddled along.’ Callie mustered a smile. ‘I’m very proud of you, you know. And the way you’re handling all this. You’ve grown up so much lately.’
‘Thanks, Mum.’ Frida scuffed her shoe, embarrassed. ‘You’re pretty cool yourself.’
‘Promise me something, Fri.’
‘What?’
‘That, whatever’s going on, you’ll talk to me.’
‘Course.’
‘Can I give you a hug now?’
‘Oh yes please. And then can we eat something, Mum? I’m starving!’
Thirty-Six
FRIDAY LATE MORNING 23RD AUGUST
Gwen John 1876–1939
Welsh born portraitist based in France and much overlooked during her lifetime. Activity: painting portraits. What do we want to convey?
(Taken from Calliope Thorne’s teaching notes.)
‘Is that the last of it?’ Frida asked as Callie squeezed a carrier bag of shoes into the last remaining corner of the boot.
