The Other Mother

Chapter 3

Now

Leaving the prison is always bittersweet. I arrive fizzing with excitement and trepidation, desperate to be near my son, to see him, touch him, show him that I love him, be reassured that he is OK, then all too soon it’s over and I feel like I am drowning in guilt and sorrow, wishing he could leave with me, wanting to go back in time and make everything right. And then there’s the relief. That’s the feeling that really stings, the one that plays on my conscience long after I’ve left. Our conversations are never easy cooped up in that visitors’ room—how can they be? Being incarcerated is a terrible thing and finding the positives can be challenging.

I march back to the station, keenly aware that I haven’t had my phone with me and Alec may have called, may be wondering where I am. I told him I was visiting Blair again and, so far, he is accepting of my friendship and how important I tell him it is. I don’t know why I used Blair as the name for my make-believe friend. I guess it was easy to talk about someone real, someone I knew, someone Mason and I have a connection with. It’s not like Alec will ever know who she is or make the correlation.

I find a quiet spot on the train and switch on my phone. I have a missed call from Alec and a voice message checking I arrived at Blair’s safely and telling me to have fun. He is a wonderful man, so kind and gentle, and he doesn’t deserve my lies. But what can I do? What man would want to marry and have a baby with a woman whose son was a serial killer’s accomplice, a young man who killed two teenagers, albeit one out of mercy and the other an accident. And then there’s Lily. No, I can’t risk losing Alec or losing this baby.

I am about to call him when I see a message in my mailbox. I open it up, and for a moment my world spins and I feel light-headed. I put the phone on my lap and look out of the window, watching the world race by, taking some slow breaths to hold myself to the here and now.

It’s him again. Lily’s dad. He started messaging when Mason was arrested two years ago. Why can’t he leave me alone? As if we haven’t all been through enough, he insists on sending me these long, begging emails. I can’t give him what he wants; I won’t. I ignore the message. I try again to block his email, but for some reason I can’t do it, and even if I google-search and find a solution, he can easily message on my mobile or come to the house. I might have moved house twice, but it wouldn’t take much to find me. I know that. I still have the same name and email address, albeit a new mobile number and no social media accounts. It’s not like I’m trying to hide from anyone; I’m just keeping myself to myself, and I don’t have anything to say to him.

I decide not to call Alec. I don’t want him to hear the distress in my voice. I need to clear my head and collect my thoughts before I get home. As I step off the train, the sun beams down and that light breeze takes the edge off the heat, so I decide to go for a walk through the town centre before going home. The pedestrianised shopping precinct is busy today. All the outside café tables are full and there’s a summer’s day buzz in the air, everyone enjoying the warm weather, wearing shorts or dresses, giving their summer wardrobes a much-needed airing.

I think of Mason, shut inside, sweating in the gym, trying to beef himself up so he is not so much of a target, trying to study and better himself for a life he will never live, unable to go outside whenever he pleases to feel the sunlight on his face. It isn’t the life I wanted for my sweet boy, for that little man who giggled when I tickled him, covered himself in bubbles in the bath, proudly showed me how he’d learned to do multiplication and recited his times tables to me. That boy was supposed to be happy and successful and free.

I buy a vanilla ice cream with strawberry sauce from a café with an outside freezer counter and walk home. It’s a good half an hour, but my body needs the exercise and fresh air. By the time I reach our front door, sweat has dampened the waistband of my trousers and droplets are snaking down my spine. It’s already three o’clock and Alec has been coming home sometime between four and five recently. I head straight for the office and settle down to work. No doubt my boss has sent me a list of everything she wants done with a firm deadline of six o’clock. My typing speed is lightning quick and I’ve been her PA for nearly ten years now, so she knows what I can get done in the timeframe.

Opening up my emails, I see another from Lily’s dad. Signed B. B for Breck. His emails are blunt, cold, nothing like the man I used to be married to. He wants to talk about Mason; he has questions. I know how hard it is for him, how badly he wants to know the truth, but I just can’t stir up that hornets’ nest. We’ll all get stung. I send the messages to a folder named ‘B’, where I’ve kept all of the others. I don’t know why I keep them; really I should just delete the lot and forget about him. I know, deep down, that one day I’ll tell him, when we are both too old for it to matter anymore.

Just as I finish up with the final task from my boss, I hear the front door open and close. I hadn’t noticed the time go by. That’s the beauty of a job that requires all my focus and is time-sensitive; I can’t be distracted, and, as I have a propensity for compartmentalising, I am very good at putting everything else out of my mind to get the jobs done. I print off the final letter, address the envelope, stamp it and drop it into my out tray.

“Suzannah, I’m home.”

I close the office door and greet Alec in the hallway.

He kneels down and says “hi” to my bump first then stands up, takes my face in his hands and kisses me so tenderly I imagine I am made of snowflakes.

He holds my face and looks at me like he hasn’t seen me in years. “Missed you.”

I haven’t been in a relationship with a man this attentive and needy before and it can get just a touch claustrophobic, but he has a history of being cheated on, lied to, left and had his heart broken, so I need to be patient with him.

“It’s been less than eight hours.” I wrap my arms around his chest as best I can, angling my body so that my belly isn’t too much of a hindrance to our hug. “How was work?”

He rests his cheek on my head and envelops me in his big, muscly arms. I’m tall for a woman at five foot nine, but his six-foot-four sturdy frame makes me feel small in his embrace.

“The lads worked hard. Got that job at the hospital finished today and it’s all signed off. The contract for that new estate came through, too. It’s gonna be a busy six months, and I’ll need to hire a few more teams.”

“Great. Better to have too much work than not enough.”

He turns me around so that he is hugging me from behind, both hands on my belly, his lips brushing my neck. “I’ve started making a list of possible supervisors. I put an ad out last week and got a lot of interest. I might take on two. The business can get busier, but I’m going to make time for this little one in my life. I’m not going to be a weekend dad—no way. I’m doing nursery drop-offs, toddler swimming lessons, and I’ll be front and centre when things get messy in those teenage years.”

I swallow hard. He has no idea just how messy those teenage years can get.

I twist my head so that my lips meet his cheek and I kiss him gently, letting my lips graze his stubble. “Do you want something to drink?”

“Tea. I’ll go and shower and meet you in the snug. I’m on dinner duty, so don’t start chopping anything.”

“Yes, sir!” I salute as he heads upstairs.

“That’s my girl.” He winks.

“Girls,” I respond, patting my baby bump. “We’re a team, now. Whatever I do, she does.”

I make us both a mug of tea and settle myself on the sofa in our snug. Shane is curled in a ball on one end, still going strong at twenty years old, mewing a tiny hello when he sees me. He’s slowed down and sleeps most of the time, but he loves a cuddle and a sunbathe.

I tickle behind his ears and he purrs loudly. “I bet you miss Lily, don’t you?”

Lily adored Shane and it was her bed he slept on every night, under the covers with her arm hooked around him. She never had need of a teddy at night, as Shane never missed a bedtime story. I look around the room and remember my old house, photographs of Lily and Mason hung on the walls, frames of their smiling faces sat on the mantelpiece above the fireplace. I even had those little fridge magnets of their school pictures.

They are all hidden away now. I took the photographs out of the frames and buried them in a box in the attic after a terrifying date with a landscape gardener called Nathan, who recognised Mason from the news. I hadn’t had a chance to tell him and, honestly, I wasn’t expecting the reaction I got. He turned pale, spat some disgusting words at me, told me I must be a monster to have bred a child like him and then hightailed it out of my house, sweeping a framed photo of Mason and Lily off the hallway dresser, the glass smashing onto the floor as he went. I never heard from Nathan again, but it was a lesson I learned fast; if I wanted a future, I needed to tuck Mason and Lily away into a box and leave them in the past.

Nathan was my last straw. By the time I met him, I’d already moved once, unable to make friends the first time after I disclosed my past to a neighbour. The news about who my son was spread like wildfire, and the community shut me down and froze me out. I wasn’t welcome at yoga; I was avoided in the park when I went running. I became a hermit. Then came Nathan, and I realised things had to be different if I was going to have a life beyond the trauma.

So, this time, round two, new home, new me. I presented myself as a single woman, no kids, no exes, just a solitary workaholic who liked yoga and running. I’ve kept my circle small, my boss and my yoga friends, and it’s been shamelessly freeing to release myself of the burden of being the mother of a serial killer’s accomplice. I know it’s wrong to keep everything a secret, but it is the only way I get to have a future and a family, like everyone else.

Alec comes into the snug wearing only his lounge pants. He is such an impressive man—tall, broad, with thick, tightly curled black hair covering his chest. His skin is a burnt umber, my most favourite colour in ceramics class at college. I, in complete contrast, have porcelain skin with freckles and naturally white-blonde hair—which is currently dyed tangerine. We are as opposite as night and day, a perfect combination.

Alec shifts Shane off the sofa and sits next to me. “I was talking to one of the guys today—Levi, just had his first kid. He was showing me some pictures on his phone and telling me how exhausted his wife is.”

I shift in the seat and sip some hot tea. “Yeah, everyone says it’s a tough ride those first few months.”

“We’ll have each other. I’m going to take plenty of time off. We can be exhausted together.”

How will I ever keep up the façade that this is my first baby? I’ll never manage it. I just know I’ll make some reference to Lily or Mason or I’ll be too efficient with nappies or bottles or weaning and ruin everything.

“I can’t wait to have her, Alec. You’re going to be an amazing dad.”

“And you’ll be an awesome mum. We’ll share it all and be there for each other—no matter how hard it gets. I love you so much, Suzannah. I thought kids were something I’d never have after Jeanie died. We’d accepted that we wouldn’t have children and I thought that was it. Then she was gone and I met you and now we are expecting this little gift.”

“Should we decide on a name, rather than just calling her a gift?”

“No. I hate secrets.”

Heat rises up my neck and I’m glad I’m still wearing my polo tank top. The mention of secrets doesn’t sit well, but it’s too late for honesty now.

“Why would we need to keep it a secret?”

“If we choose a name now, when people ask what we’re calling her, I’ll have to lie, because I want to announce her birth and her name at the same time. A big welcome to the world with her name being a surprise to my family and friends. Plus, I don’t want to have to listen to anyone else’s opinions of her name and then question my choice.”

I half-smile. I’ve told Alec I don’t have any family. My mum died nearly a decade ago from breast cancer; that’s true. My dad walked out when I was little, and I’ve never seen him since; that’s also true. However, I do have a brother, somewhere, but we lost touch after Mum died. We never got on as siblings, and there didn’t seem any point dragging out the relationship after our mother was gone.

I place my hand on his thigh. “Fine. We’ll decide when we see her for the first time.”

Alec reaches for his mug and slurps his tea. “How’s Blair? I hope I get to meet her before the wedding. I’m sorry that my work keeps me so busy, and I haven’t managed to make time for her, yet, but I promise I will when this little one is born. You’ll see a new me.”

“I can’t wait. I’m going to enjoy having you around more.”

I rest my head on his shoulder and wonder how on earth I’ll manage to visit Mason when Alec takes a step back from work. I’ll have to think of a better excuse than a non-existent friend. Maybe my boss at work will need me for meetings or a slight change of duties that require some office-based days. Oh, I don’t know, I’ll come up with something.

The doorbell rings. “I’ll get it.” I stand up, and my belly rumbles. “Why don’t you get started on dinner—we’re starving.”

Alec glugs the rest of his milky beverage, then picks up both mugs and walks out to the kitchen. I head to the door.

The doorbell rings again. “OK. OK. I’m coming.”

I lift the chain and unlatch the door, pulling it open and holding it ajar. My heart stops.

“Breck!”

“Suzannah.”

I glance towards the kitchen. The tap is running, and Alec has switched on the speaker to play some rather hectic dance music.

I turn back to Breck, his tall, slim frame and curly brown hair still the same; it’s only the look in his eyes that’s different. “Shit, Breck, what are you doing here? I thought you were back in Ireland with your parents.”

“I am. I was. I just need to talk. Please. You can’t keep ignoring me.”

“There’s nothing to say. Nothing has changed.”

“Mason is in prison. He confessed to being an accomplice to a serial killer. Jesus Christ, Suzannah, that changes everything.”

I put a hand on my stomach. “I’m moving forward with my life, Breck. You left, remember. Ran away. Abandoned me. Please, leave me alone. If I ever find out anything about Lily, I’ll tell you. I promise. Please, just go.”

Alec hollers out from the kitchen. “Everything alright, Suzannah?”

I call down the hallway. “Just a delivery driver looking for an address. He got the wrong house.”

I eyeball Breck, one hand on my hip. “Goodbye, Breck.”

I close the door and lean back against it, praying he will leave and never come here again.