‘I know that, I get it. But when you’re little you don’t want a role model. You just want a mum.’
There was a hairline fracture in Phoebe’s voice that made Lily want to reach out, enfold her daughter in her arms, let her know that everything was going to be OK. But something stopped her. Because it was only in preparing to hug Phoebe that Lily realised she couldn’t remember the last time she had.
Her phone bleeped in her hand. She looked down, saw an email from her boss flash up, felt herself hesitate.
‘Oh yes, Mum, you’d better look at that. Let me guess – work? You couldn’t possibly keep them waiting while you actually have a conversation with your daughter, could you?’
Lily flushed, felt her fingers itch with temptation, and then shoved the phone into her pocket. ‘I don’t know what to say, Phoebe. I did the best that I could. I’m sorry if it wasn’t enough.’
‘Do not say you’re sorry. I’m sick of hearing it. You seem to think it’s a get-out-of-jail-free card but it’s not and I’ve had enough of it. I’ve had enough of pretending everything’s perfect when it’s not. I’ve had it with the pretence and the lies and the sham of it all. You go off to America, have a good trip, and when you come home you can act like none of this ever happened, just like you always do.’
Phoebe’s invective fired at Lily like bullets from a machine gun. Lily wanted to say something, to find whatever words would mend a relationship she hadn’t realised was so broken. But it was as though things she had thought were solid had begun to melt, and she was watching them leak away from her.
She felt her phone vibrate again in her pocket – once and then a second time – and the thought of those messages from work demanding an immediate response, even as they were in the process of discarding her, caused her fingers to find the phone’s power button and press down hard to turn it off.
Phoebe was still staring at her, waiting for a reply. I’m sorry, Lily wanted to say. I’m sorry I got it all so wrong. I’ve given all my time to a job that doesn’t even want me any more and now there’s no way I can turn back the clock and do things differently.
A thought slid into her head: maybe it wasn’t too late to do things differently. Maybe she should embrace the redundancy, spend some quality time with Phoebe. Perhaps they could both spend the summer in New York with Daniel. And maybe, when she got back, she could look for a job that might give her more purpose, more meaning. Perhaps it might not be too late to rectify her mistakes after all.
‘I’m sorry, Phoebe. Perhaps if we—’
‘I don’t want to hear it, Mum. Your apologies are meaningless. You’re never going to change, never. And I’ve had enough of it.’
Phoebe turned and ran into the airport terminal. Lily’s hand reached out towards her just a fraction too late, the rest of her explanation shrivelling on her tongue. She moved to follow, to tell Phoebe there was still time, there was still a chance for them to have the relationship Phoebe wanted – that Lily wanted too – her heart suddenly aching with love as though a dam had burst after years of restraint. But by the time she had hauled her suitcase through the revolving doors and into the terminal, Phoebe had vanished.
Chapter 50
Audrey
Nine hours later, a yellow taxi snaked through the midday Manhattan traffic, horns blaring, sunlight glinting on buildings that stretched up as if to touch the sky. Audrey gazed out of the cab window at a view that looked less like a city and more like a movie set. She couldn’t believe she was actually there.
It was only now that she could see the pinnacle of the Chrysler Building gleaming in the sunshine that she realised how deep her fear had been that she might not make it. She watched the steam rising from manhole covers and smelt the perversely delicious mix of car fumes, hot tarmac and burning ambition all cooked together in the sweltering July heat. So many times over the past month she had imagined all the things that might have stopped her making this trip: Jess announcing she’d changed her mind; Lily deciding she couldn’t possibly leave work, even for a few days; her consultant prohibiting long-haul travel. So many obstacles, both real and imagined. But now she was here.
Inside the handbag clasped tightly on her lap, next to the Trebor Extra Strong Mints, a half-used packet of tissues and her anti-nausea medication, nestled Audrey’s diary from 1969. It had felt only right to bring it with her. Without it, she might never have remembered how much her sixteen-year-old self had wanted to come.
Audrey glanced sideways, at Lily next to her and Jess in the front passenger seat, both of them staring out of the window. They’d barely uttered a word since they’d left London. Jess was clearly still furious with her and had watched movies back-to-back throughout the journey, while Lily had spent most of the flight under her eye mask, complaining of a headache. Any attempt to engage either of them in conversation had been met with monosyllabic responses until Audrey had swallowed her disappointment and instructed herself to be patient. She couldn’t expect decades of estrangement to be resolved during the course of one flight across the Atlantic.
But now, driving through the streets of Manhattan, Audrey felt irritated that her daughters couldn’t put aside their differences just for a few minutes so she could enjoy her first glimpses of a city she had waited so long to see. She turned to look out of the window – at the New York Public Library, the Rockefeller Center, Radio City Music Hall – trying not to let the atmosphere spoil the moment completely.
Leaning forward to retrieve a bottle of water from her hand luggage, a sharp pain stabbed behind her sternum. She tried not to wince, tried to stop the discomfort writing itself onto her face. She couldn’t let them know how much pain she was in. For weeks she’d been falsely reassuring them that her symptoms were stabilising, that she was plateauing rather than declining. She’d insisted, time and again, that she was definitely well enough to go on this trip. If they knew how much her health had deteriorated over the past three weeks, they’d never have agreed to get on the plane with her.
Looking up, expecting to see her own anxiety reflected back at her in her daughters’ faces, she was instead met by the backs of their heads. She rubbed a hand against the bony wall of her chest, breathed slowly, and turned to look out of the window.
Ahead of her she saw the trees of Central Park but before she’d had a chance to absorb the sight, the cab swerved onto the forecourt of the Plaza Hotel, the car door opened, and a man in a navy blue uniform – complete with peaked cap – welcomed her to New York. As Audrey stepped out of the cab and onto the chequerboard concourse, she tried to focus on all the things she might be able to say and do over the next few days to bring her daughters back together.
Fixing her family: it was the only thing that mattered. And Audrey had five days in which to achieve it.
Chapter 51
Lily
Eighteen blocks and fifteen minutes later, on a road running perpendicular to Central Park, Lily stepped out of a cab. Humidity enveloped her like a thermal blanket she was unable to shrug off. Her mum had tried to persuade her against going straight to Daniel’s apartment – had suggested she settle in at the hotel and freshen up first – but Lily hadn’t wanted to waste any time.
The house in front of her looked just like the photo Daniel had sent: steps climbing up to a wide front door, black railings either side, a red-brick building nestled between two elegant cream townhouses.