Her eyes opened wider.
‘Daniel has five thousand pounds put into his bank account every month. Even though he has a career, which we hope will blossom, he doesn’t actually need to work.’ She stopped, seeing it had finally sunk in. Wendy had coloured and for the first time seemed out of her depth.
‘Bloody hell.’
Silence fell between them. She’d closed off. Embarrassed about not understanding the scales of riches. Laura had a fear she was about to lose her and took her hand and held it tightly. ‘Please, Wendy. I don’t know what else to do.’
She wasn’t too comfortable with having her hand held and Laura awkwardly pulled away.
‘And now she’s getting married,’ said Wendy to herself.
Laura reeled, a million tiny shards of pain, her ears ringing.
‘You didn’t know.’
‘Married? Daniel and Cherry are getting married? When?’ she said, panic rising.
‘January.’
Her hands started shaking. ‘No, please God . . . I can’t . . . Please, Wendy. I know she’s your daughter, but please don’t let her do this.’
‘You don’t understand what you’re asking me.’
‘It’s gone beyond the money – it’s turned into something where she wants him, wants all of him, and for me not to have him. I’ll never see him again: she’ll cut me off completely. You know your daughter better than anyone. Please, anything you can do.’
Wendy sipped her drink, then slowly put down the cup. It clattered noisily in the saucer, the china thick, designed to withstand handling by the masses.
‘No.’
A tightness gripped Laura’s chest.
She stood. ‘You must understand, Laura. She’s my daughter.’
Laura watched as Wendy, trembling, walked away.
FIFTY
Thursday 5 November
Cherry let herself into her mother’s flat and directed the man she’d hired to lift and shift to her bedroom, where the boxes were neatly stacked. It had been the right thing to do – move the last of her things when her mum was at work – as it made it a lot easier not having to dodge questions about when Wendy could come and see her new home. She didn’t want her coming over and oohing and aahing about everything, making embarrassing comments about how expensive or fancy everything was, or worse still, bringing a housewarming gift from the supermarket. As usual, she felt guilty about these thoughts and decided she’d take her out to dinner somewhere nice, maybe in a few weeks, once she was properly settled in. In fact, she’d leave her a note promising this. Yes, that was the thing to do, she thought, pleased, and she went into the living room to find a piece of paper.
‘Mum!’
Wendy was sitting on the sofa. ‘Have you come to say goodbye?’
‘I-I didn’t know you were here.’ She frowned. ‘Aren’t you supposed to be at work?’
‘I swapped my shifts.’
‘Oh, right.’
‘You don’t sound too pleased.’
‘Oh no – doesn’t bother me. Why would it?’
Wendy stood. ‘You didn’t seem too keen on the idea when I originally offered. I thought it would be nice. You know, to see each other.’
‘Of course it’s nice. It’s just I didn’t want to put you out.’
Cherry was uncomfortable under her mother’s gaze. What was all this about? She wanted to get her stuff and go, and certainly didn’t plan on hanging around for an impromptu bonding session.
‘I don’t think that’s true, Cherry. I think the truth is, you don’t like spending time with me.’
Cherry’s stomach twisted, but she laughed. ‘What?’
‘I’m not rich. Comfortable, I like to think, and I work hard.’
‘Course you do,’ said Cherry quickly, reassuringly.
‘Don’t patronize me,’ snapped Wendy, and Cherry flinched. ‘I think, Cherry, that I am an embarrassment to you. Unworthy of you.’
Her heart was hammering in her chest. ‘What are you going on about?’
‘I work in a supermarket; I don’t wear fancy clothes; I don’t speak as well as some people. You always wanted to better yourself, had high expectations, expensive taste. That’s why you was so upset about that Nicolas. I knew you was too good for round here, never thought you was too good for me.’ Her voice cracked, but she pulled herself up. ‘A woman came to see me in the shop yesterday.’
‘Who?’ asked Cherry anxiously, but deep down, she knew.
‘Laura Cavendish. I wasn’t going to say anything, but what she told me . . . it was keeping me awake all night. She was begging me to help her. To stop you.’ She paused. ‘Is it all true?’
‘Oh, don’t be so melodramatic.’
Wendy stopped still. ‘Oh my God,’ she whispered.
‘Did she tell you what she did? She lied to me! Told me her own son was dead so I wouldn’t be able to see him anymore.’
Cherry waited for her words to have the right impact, for her mum to back down like she always did. For her to be afraid of upsetting her daughter and saying what Cherry wanted to hear so as not to estrange her even more. But Wendy was looking at her differently, in a way Cherry had never seen before and it scared her.
‘I can’t believe you did that,’ said Wendy. ‘All that stuff. You killed a puppy . . . ? What’s wrong with you?’
‘Oh Christ, will you stop going on about it? I saved it from a miserable existence. You should have seen it, poor thing, all cooped up with nowhere to run, no light, no air. It had a shit life. It had no future because of where it was born,’ she spat.
Wendy’s voice caught in her throat. ‘You mean you, don’t you?’ She took a step towards her. ‘After your dad died, I worked hard all those years. Nearly killed me sometimes, but you never went without. I didn’t see you as much as I wanted to, but I hoped you’d see something good in what I was doing, look up to me. I may not have had much, but I worked for everything I ever got. Never sucked it out of someone else like a leech.’
Shaking, Cherry slapped her across the face. Wendy gasped and put her hand to her cheek.
‘Excuse me?’ The man with a van was hovering awkwardly in the doorway.
Cherry reeled round. ‘What?’
He held up his hands. ‘It’s all in. I’ll be off.’ He couldn’t leave quickly enough.
Cherry apprehensively turned back to her mum.