Betty moved to the door, Val followed, saying quietly, ‘You don’t have to leave.’
‘I know, but I think it’s for the best. Bye, and I’ll see you soon.’
When Val closed the door she turned to Paula. ‘I’m so sorry. I should have realised that talking about it would be too much for you.’
‘It … it’s like reliving it all over again, but other than this rotten headache I’m all right now. I like Betty, she’s nice.’
Val nodded in agreement. Yes, Betty was nice and had been so sympathetic, but would she understand what they wanted to do – and why? Not only that, unless she too had been badly hurt by more than a divorce settlement, Val still wasn’t sure that she’d want to join them. Once again she felt a surge of impatience. How much longer was this going to take? Would she have to drop Betty? Oh, she hoped not.
On Sunday morning, Betty was thinking about Paula. She had been sickened by what she’d heard, her heart going out to the poor girl. Paula was a lot younger than her own daughter, with none of Anne’s self-assurance. She was so tiny, only just over five feet tall, with dull blonde hair and baby blue eyes. Her clothes were dowdy, her face bare of make-up, hiding the fact, Betty was sure, that Paula was actually a pretty young woman.
When there was a knock on her door she hurried to open it, delighted to see her daughter. ‘Anne, how lovely to see you – and on a Sunday for a change. Did you have a nice holiday? And what happened to my postcard? You’ve been back a week but it still hasn’t arrived.’
‘Hello, Mum. Sorry about the postcard, but I didn’t get a chance to send any. Mel was taken ill and Dad was worried about her.’
‘You didn’t tell me that your father and Mel were going with you.’
‘Didn’t I?’
Betty was about to retort when there was another knock on the door. She opened it, her face lighting with joy. It had been so long since she had seen her son and his last visit had been to her previous flat. ‘John, how wonderful to see you!’
‘Hello, Mum,’ he said, before leaning forward to kiss her swiftly on the cheek.
Betty stood aside to let him in, her voice high with excitement. ‘Look, Anne, it’s John.’
‘Hello, sis,’ he said. ‘Mum told me you were going on holiday. Did you have a good time?’
‘Yes, we had a week in Spain with Dad and Mel.’
Betty was pleased to see John’s lips curling in derision, since she felt the same, but if they started to argue they’d leave and she didn’t want that. ‘It’s marvellous that you’ve both turned up at the same time. Come on, now; don’t stand there like a pair of combatants. Sit down and I’ll get you something to drink.’
Anne flopped onto the sofa, whilst John took a chair, and as she hurried to the kitchenette, Betty could hear Anne talking to her brother.
‘I’m glad you’re here. I’ve got a bit of news and this way I can kill two birds with one stone.’
Wondering what this news could be, Betty hurriedly opened her small fridge, only to shake her head with annoyance. With so many other things on her mind she had forgotten to get any Cokes, and now could only offer Anne orange juice. She poured two glasses, saying as she took them into the living room, ‘Sorry, this is the only cold drink I’ve got. If you’d prefer, I could make a pot of tea.’
‘Orange juice is fine, Mum,’ John said as he reached out to take a glass.
‘It’s too hot for tea and this will do,’ Anne agreed.
‘So, Anne, what’s this news?’ asked John.
Anne’s eyes danced as she looked at her brother. ‘When Mel wasn’t well in Spain, we put it down to the food, but since returning she’s been to see the doctor. You’re not going to believe this. Dad said he didn’t want any more children, but she’s pregnant. Mel’s pregnant.’
Betty felt herself going rigid with shock. ‘Pr … pregnant?’
‘Yes,’ Anne said dismissively, as though unaware how her mother was feeling as she turned to her brother again, ‘and John, that means we’re going to have a new baby brother or sister.’
‘Half-brother or –sister,’ he retorted, ‘and if you ask me, it’s a bit sick. Bloody hell, Dad’s old enough to be the child’s grandfather.’
Betty’s head was reeling. Somehow, deep down, she had always hoped that the marriage would end – that, as Richard aged, Mel would want a younger man. He was already twenty-five years her senior, and it sickened Betty that at fifty-eight years old he was about to start another family. ‘How … how does your father feel about it?’
‘He’s really happy, cock-a-hoop and strutting about with his chest puffed out with pride.’
‘I thought you said he didn’t want any more children.’
‘Yes, but Mel had other ideas. She’s thirty-three now and I think felt the time was right if she was going to have children. She was feeling really broody so, without telling Dad, she stopped taking the pill.’
‘Wasn’t he angry?’
‘No, I told you, he’s full of it, and it seems to have knocked years off him. You should see him fussing over Melissa, even getting a cleaner to come in once a week.’
Betty’s head was low. A cleaner – Melissa had a cleaner. Oh, not for her slaving to keep the house and garden up to scratch. Then, feeling a hand on her shoulder, she looked up to see John leaning over her, eyes full of concern.
‘Are you all right, Mum?’
‘Ye-yes, but I must admit it’s come as a bit of a shock. Oh, it’s awful,’ she then blurted out, ‘somehow I didn’t expect the marriage to last, but … but now …’
‘Mum, don’t tell me that you still hold a torch for Dad?’
Betty stared up at her son, fighting to hide her true feelings. She would never admit it to him, or anyone, but yes, she still held a torch for Richard. Despite what he had done, she still loved him, and felt she always would. ‘Of course I don’t,’ she lied.
John’s eyes narrowed in doubt, but Betty made a supreme effort to regain composure and change the subject. ‘Come on, we’ve heard Anne’s news, now what about you? It’s been ages since I’ve seen you, so tell me, what’ve you been up to?’
‘I’m sorry I haven’t been round, but I ring you every week. It’s work, Mum, I’ve been snowed under.’
‘John, how’s your love life?’ Anne asked.
‘I’ve got a new girlfriend and this one might be serious.’
‘Really
