Page 78

“I’ll go.” Charlie kissed her shoulder and left the room.

Elda flicked the curtain to see a taxi pulling away. She listened for the click of the front door and heard muffled voices at the foot of the stairs.

“Elda, can you come down?”

By the time she’d pulled her jeans and a jumper on and taken the stairs two at a time, Charlie was boiling the kettle with fierce concentration on her face.

“Hello, Elda.” Her mum sat at the table, clutching her handbag.

“Mum.” Elda stood fixed to the spot. “What are you doing here?”

It had been a month since she’d left their family home. She’d called the house twice, but her mum had put the phone down. After a while, she’d put it all to the back of her mind. But now, in Charlie’s kitchen, her temper reignited.

“I came here to see you,” her mum said to the floor tiles, as if she couldn’t bear to look Elda in the eye.

“Did you have breakfast, Linda? Would you like some toast?” Charlie moved around the kitchen, trying to make everything normal.

“No, love, you’re all right.”

“Mum survives on fags and vodka. Don’t fuss over her, Charlie,” Elda said.

“Don’t.” Charlie placed her hand on Elda’s arm and squeezed. “Your mum’s travelled a long way this morning. Did you get the train, Linda?”

“Yes, I did. Thank you for thinking of me, but don’t worry about Elda. I’ve heard it all before. I deserve most of it,” her mum said calmly. “Can we have a minute, do you think?”

Charlie looked at Elda and waited for her signal. She nodded, and they were left alone.

“Why have you come? It must’ve been a nightmare on the train. Did you have to get a taxi to the station?” Elda asked.

“I wanted to give you this.” She extended her arm, holding a brown envelope. “And this.” She handed her a white piece of folded paper.

“What is it?” Elda took the items and tried to slow down her thoughts.

“The envelope has some money that your nan saved for you. It’s not much, but she was putting it away so you could have it.”

Elda stepped back, bringing the envelope to her chest. She was surprised her mum hadn’t spent it down the club, but she kept that to herself. She unfurled the note and stared at the London address. Elda narrowed her eyes as she tried to read her mother’s expression. “I haven’t got time for riddles, Mum.” Elda set the paper down on the side and began to clean the countertop.

“Please stop,” her mum said gently. “That’s your dad’s address.”

Elda froze, gripping the wet cloth. She studied the flecks in the worktop and tried to steady her heartbeat. “You know his address? Why are you giving it to me now?”

“Because you were right. You deserve to make your own mind up about him. He might have changed.”

“What about you? Have you changed?” She let her tears fall.

“I thought you were better off with a clean break. I did okay without my dad around. I thought you’d be all right with me and your nan.” Her mum’s face was grey. “Maybe I was wrong. I haven’t been up to it, have I?”

Elda’s mind was flooded with sadness. She was grieving the loss of her grandmother, as well as the mother she’d never had. “You did your best.” It was all she could say. A numbness crept over her chest and down her arms.

Her mum sat still for a few moments, rolling a coaster between her fingers. “I’ve stopped drinking.”

“Have you really?” Elda focused through her glassy tears.

“Yeah. About time, really. I’m going to the meetings now. It’s early days, but it helps.”

Elda took her hand and wrapped her mum’s cold fingers in her own.

“I’ll leave you.” Her mum stood and gathered her bag.