The Golden Thread Page 13

  As she left she thought she heard a strange, strangled noise behind her. Driving home that noise kept echoing through her mind. Her jangling emotions made it difficult for her to concentrate on her journey. Nor could she see clearly through her tears.

  Chapter 26

  The front door slammed shut with a ferocity that shook the house. The next moment the lounge door was flung open. Nigel, who had been absorbed in a technical manual, looked up to see Fran standing there, her face white and tense, her body shaking with emotion.

  ‘She’s horrible! Horrible! Horrible! Horrible! And I hate her!’ Fran threw herself down into an armchair and burst into tears.

  ‘It didn’t go too well then?’

  Nigel came over to sit on the arm of his wife’s chair, and took her hand.

  ‘Poor darling,’ he said gently. ‘Want to tell me about it?’

  ‘No. I don’t want to talk about it – not now. Not ever! I don’t even want to think about it. She told me to get out – so I did. Oh, Nigel! I’ve made the most dreadful mistake.’

  The weeping was gaining momentum. Nigel was silent.

  Then Fran suddenly stood up.

  ‘I’m going out for a walk,’ she said. ‘Don’t come. I want to be by myself. Please just leave me alone.’

  She was gone for two hours. Nigel waited patiently, worrying, but knowing it would do no good to try and find her. Eventually Fran returned.

  ‘I want to say two things,’ she announced. ‘First, I’m very sorry I was bad-tempered with you, Nigel. I didn’t mean to take it out on you. Secondly, I made a bad mistake in trying to make contact and that’s all there is to it.’

  ‘How about dining out?’ suggested Nigel.

  ‘No, sorry, Thanks, but I’m not hungry and I’m not in the mood.’

  ‘Not even for a special meal at Luigi’s?’

  Fran hesitated. Luigi’s was their favourite restaurant. Perhaps a relaxing evening there would help to take her mind off things.

  ‘We wouldn’t get a table at this short notice, would we?’

  ‘We already have a table. I’ve booked it. You have half an hour to wash and brush up, so get started. Senor Luigi awaits us.’

  Fran smiled. ‘You’re so good to me. What would I do without you?’

  ‘Go and get ready,’ he said.

  They had reached the coffee stage before anything relevant to the issue was mentioned. The candle flame flickered over the bright red checked tablecloth. They had enjoyed a delectable meal and Fran had drunk two glasses of excellent wine. Finally Nigel raised the topic.

  ‘So what are you going to do now?’

  ‘Forget the whole thing.’

  ‘What’s happened to Fran the Fighter – that persistent woman who never gives up?’

  ‘She’s disappeared off the scene. In her place you see Fran the Fool – the complete idiot who’s been living a dream. Well, reality has now dawned with blinding force. I know you had reservations about my going in search of my natural mother – and you’ve been proved right.’

  ‘If I had reservations it was only because I was afraid you might not get the reception you hoped for. I didn’t want you to get hurt.’

  ‘Well, as you saw, I did get hurt, dreadfully.’ Fran’s eyes became moist. Nigel put his large hand across the table and grasped Fran’s in his.

  ‘Let’s look at it from Claudia’s point of view. She gave up her baby almost forty years ago – we don’t know why, nor do we know what that did to her. I’m not a woman, as you well know, so I can’t put myself in her place, but I imagine that’s a pretty traumatic experience for any mother.’

  ‘I’m sure it is – so you’d think she might be pleased that I came to find her. But she clearly couldn’t bear to see me. She didn’t want to have anything to do with me.’

  ‘Think of the shock it must have been for her to have you turn up, out of the blue, on her doorstep. You’d been planning this moment for years. You’d been lying awake at night thinking about it. She knew nothing of the way you’d been building your hopes up for this meeting. Just suddenly, one day, there you were – the baby she never watched grow up.’

  ‘Perhaps I should have warned her. It was silly, I know, but I believed, when we met, that there’d be something there – right from the start. I thought … I thought when she opened the door, I’d recognise her! Doesn’t that sound stupid!’

  Nigel squeezed her hand.

  ‘Not stupid, my darling. Just optimistic, perhaps idealistic. That’s what I love about you – always believing everything will turn out well in the end. Always concentrating on the positive. Never accepting defeat.’

  ‘I know what you’re saying. I should have another try.’

  ‘That’s up to you.’

  ‘Perhaps, if she’s had time to get over the shock, it might be better next time.’

  ‘Who knows?’

  ‘Do you know what I love about you? You never try to stop me doing anything, even if you think it might be unwise. You’re so supportive, no matter what foolish course of action I decide on.’

  ‘So what have you decided?’

  ‘I’ll have another go. I’m not going to give up yet.’

  ‘That’s my girl,’ said Nigel.

  Chapter 27

  Oh, it’s you. I suppose you’d better come in.’

  Claudia’s greeting was marginally better than the first time.

  As they went into the lounge Fran noticed that Claudia seemed distracted. She appeared to have no intention of starting a conversation and kept looking round the room. She ignored Fran’s presence, as if her mind was absorbed with some problem.

  ‘What is it? What are you looking for?’

  ‘My cat, Socrates. I can’t think why he isn’t here – he’s usually back by this time. I haven’t seen him since breakfast.’

  As she spoke there was a scrabbling noise at the cat flap. Socrates, who usually leaped nimbly through, scarcely touching the edges, was having difficulty making his entrance. Both women moved towards the kitchen and watched a bedraggled black cat, eyes staring, body trembling, heave his frame through the flap and land in a heap on the kitchen floor. He was immediately violently sick.

  ‘I must get him to the vet.’

  Claudia looked distraught. Fetching a basket she picked the cat up and laid him gently inside, on a blanket.

  ‘I’ve got my car outside,’ said Fran. ‘May I give you a lift?’

  ‘That would be a help. It’s two buses, you see, and it can take an hour if there’s a long wait.’

  It only took fifteen minutes by car. They went to the reception desk, Claudia holding the basket containing its precious treasure. At the desk they waited for some attention. It was at least thirty seconds since they had presented themselves and the receptionist had still not taken her eyes from the computer. Claudia, out of her mind with worry, found the delay intolerable.

  ‘Kindly fetch the vet immediately. This cat is very sick – he may be dying.’

  ‘He has a client in with him at the moment. Would you please take a seat?’

  ‘I will not take a seat until you inform the vet that Miss Hansom is here with Socrates, who is in an extremely bad condition. I need him to be told straight away – before you do anything else on that computer!’

  The girl finally raised her eyes from the screen, a hostile look on her face. She was clearly about to refuse Claudia’s request.

  ‘It would be so helpful if you would just tell him,’ interposed Fran, ‘so that he understands the urgency. We would be so grateful.’

  Claudia was on the point of telling her to keep out of it when the girl nodded and went to open the surgery door, speaking quietly to the vet. Whatever she said proved effective because he could be heard apologising to his client and came out. He took one look at the basket and its occupant. Socrates lay there listlessly, his normally bright, intelligent eyes glazed and uncomprehending. The vet took the basket from Cl
audia, promising to examine the cat in the next few minutes.

  They went and sat down. Suddenly Claudia wondered what on earth she was doing sitting beside this woman who claimed to be her daughter. How had it happened? She had done her best to send Fran packing, once and for all, but here she was, back again. Under other circumstances Claudia would have made sure it was a very short visit, but she had not been able to resist the offer of a lift to the vet’s surgery, since it was obviously going to save a lot of time. It was the sensible thing to do, for Socrates’ sake. She didn’t mean Fran to come in with her, but somehow it had happened.

  Those words were still echoing through her mind: ‘I have very good reasons for believing that you are my birth mother.’ The shockwaves that had flooded through her whole body had almost engulfed her. For forty years she had tried to suppress the knowledge that somewhere out there was the woman who had been her baby – hers and Stefano’s – and the pain she had felt when she gave the child up was buried deep inside her, never to be revisited.

  Those floodgates must not be opened. She must put a stop to it as soon as possible, and now was as good a time as any. She turned to say this to Fran, but at that moment the vet appeared and came over to speak to her.

  ‘I’m sorry, Miss Hansom, I’m afraid your cat is very ill indeed. He seems to have eaten something poisonous. I’m going to try and wash his stomach out but I’m not very hopeful.’

  ‘How long will it take?’ Claudia, used to being in control, was outwardly composed.

  ‘I’m not sure – half an hour or so. Do you want to wait or shall I ring you at home?’

  ‘I’ll wait.’ Claudia was decisive. She turned to her companion.

  ‘It was kind of you to accompany me here.’ Somehow she couldn’t bring herself to use this woman’s name – the name she had lovingly chosen such a long time ago. ‘However, I’m going to sit and wait, so I’m sure you want to go now. No doubt someone will be expecting you.’

  ‘I’ll wait with you, if you’ll allow me to.’ Laying a gentle but strong hand on Claudia’s Fran felt an involuntary shudder pass through the older woman’s body. She wondered how long it had been since Claudia had experienced any physical contact with another human being. Then the older woman snatched her hand away.

  ‘There’s absolutely no reason why you should. My cat and I are of no concern to you. I’m quite sure you don’t want to be bothered with our little troubles. Please leave me in peace. I’d really rather be alone.’

  Fran stood up.

  ‘Are you sure you wouldn’t like me to wait until … Well, until there’s some news? I have no issue with the time.’

  ‘There’s no need.’ Suddenly the thought of being alone with a dead Socrates was overwhelming. ‘Well, perhaps …just until …’

  Then the vet was standing in front of them again. Claudia rose to her feet.

  ‘I’m so sorry, Miss Hansom. It was too late. The poison had got into his bloodstream. I’m sorry to tell you that he’s died. Do you want me to see to the disposal, or do you want to take him away?’

  ‘I’ll take him.’ The voice was low, controlled, expressionless.

  ‘Wait here, please.’

  ‘Oh, Claudia,’ whispered Fran gently. ‘I’m so sorry.’

  Somehow they moved towards each other, and the next moment Fran had both her arms round the older woman who was sobbing on her shoulder. Claudia only allowed it to happen for a few seconds, then she moved away and began to scrabble through her bag. Silently Fran produced a man’s large handkerchief which she passed to Claudia who accepted it, dabbed at her eyes, blew her nose, and then handed it back.

  ‘You keep it. They’re so much more practical than tissues – I always carry one. Are you going to bury him in your garden? I’ll come and help you.’

  ‘I really don’t want to involve you – but I don’t think I can do it by myself, and I do want him at home.’

  ‘With a little plaque, to mark the spot.’

  ‘Yes, then I’ll have a reminder.’

  Now completely covered by a blanket, Socrates’ body lay in the basket for the homeward journey. Neither of the women spoke.

  Back at her home Claudia found a trowel and selected a spot. She began to dig, but her hands were unsteady, and she was finding it difficult.

  ‘May I help?’ Fran took the trowel, and with her strong hands had soon managed to scoop out a hole big enough to accommodate the cat’s body.

  Claudia laid Socrates to rest. Shovelling the earth back on top of him was the worst part of it. She was unable to prevent tears rolling down her cheeks once more. Fran helped her smooth over the top of the grave.

  ‘What about the plaque?’

  ‘I’d like to think about it, and do that by myself.’

  Fran nodded.

  ‘I’ll go now,’ she said. ‘I’m so sorry, but thank you for letting me share it with you.’

  Claudia walked with her to the front door.

  Fran smiled at her and then turned to go. Claudia said nothing. Fran walked as far as the gate, and was just going through when she heard her name. She turned.

  ‘Thank you.’

  Fran smiled, nodded, and was gone.

  Chapter 28

  Clutching the large bouquet of flowers that had just been delivered she withdrew the card nestling in the foliage and read:

  ‘To Claudia. I’m so sorry that you’ve been subjected to two dreadful shocks recently – first my visit, and then poor Socrates’ illness and death. Fran.’

  Receiving the flowers was another disturbing experience – for some reason it brought back memories of that bouquet in Oxford … well, she wasn’t going to think about that.

  But she did have to think about Fran’s visit. Still reeling from the loss of her cat, and hating the emptiness in her flat, she knew she was in no state to tackle the issue, but she couldn’t just ignore it. It was clear Fran wasn’t simply going to go away, now she had made the contact. The trouble was her arrival had lifted the lid on all the memories so that they came flooding back, and with them the pain.

  With startling clarity Claudia saw her twenty-one year old self bending over the cot, touching the tiny hand and feeling those little fingers grasping hers. Suffocated by searing emotions she had wrenched the tiny fingers away, turned her back on her baby and walked out of the hospital. Once again she experienced the pain of the razor-sharp sword that had pierced her heart, inflicting a penetrating wound so excruciating that she instinctively knew she would never recover.

  At first she had done nothing but lie on her bed and give vent to deep, anguished sobs that brought no relief but could not be controlled. Emotionally drained and weak from lack of food, she had summoned all her resources and made a resolve. She would pick up the threads of her life again, and embark on the career for which she had prepared herself – but never would she allow herself to feel anything for another human being again. Such vulnerability must be avoided at all costs.

  Ten years ago she had admitted Socrates into her life. That had been a difficult decision initially, but soon it was hard to tell who was looking after whom. Socrates was born with an intuition and wisdom far above the normal level for cats, Claudia believed. She had almost lost sight of his true nature, so that it was only when someone else used the term when referring to him, that she remembered he was a cat.

  Gradually she allowed herself to draw comfort from his presence and pleasure in his companionship. She realised now that she had lost sight of that resolve to shut everyone out, and had allowed herself to love – and once again she was denied the object of her affection. For a second time the punishment was being meted out to her – she must endure the intense pain of loss.

  So what should she do about Fran? There was no easy way of getting rid of her – that had been obvious yesterday. She had lost count of the number of times she had told her to leave, and somehow it hadn’t happened.

  Did she want her to go? It was a simp
le decision really – nothing more than a mathematical equation. Put the pluses on one side and the minuses on the other, and see which side held the higher number.

  She’d start with the plus side. Here was the opportunity to have someone of significance in her life. (Was that actually a plus, or a minus?) There might be someone around if she was ill, or who could perhaps help her tackle things that were beyond her. (Definitely a plus – although in fact she was never ill, and she’d managed everything herself up to now, so she probably didn’t need anyone.) She could make the acquaintance of the daughter she had lost so long ago. (Did she want to? It had all been buried for so long, what was the point of raking it up now?)

  It was time for the minuses. Seeing Fran would awaken memories she had refused to allow to surface for almost forty years. (No doubt which side of the line that was.) This woman might make demands on her. She might be jogged out of the quiet existence she had managed to establish. She might be required to connect with her emotions again. She might have to become a human being once more!

  No! No! No! It couldn’t be done. She was too old, too tired, too set in her ways to change now. She had kept people at a distance all her life – how could she let anyone get close to her now? Sleeping dogs must be left to lie – there would be hell to pay if they were disturbed. She would resolve now, once and for all, that she would never allow this woman anywhere near her again.

  The decision was made. She turned to pick up her latest library book and started to read. Then into her mind flooded the memory of how, the previous day, in the midst of her pain, she had laid her head on that broad shoulder and felt the strong arms encompass her. Resolutely, she turned her attention to the architectural relics of ancient Greece.

  Chapter 29

  Claudia’s telephone rang.

  ‘I’ve got two tickets for a West End show this afternoon.’

  ‘Why are you telling me?’