The Honey Queen

‘He’s not getting a ha’penny out of this business,’ Bobbi had insisted – and he hadn’t.

Richard still turned up from time to time, normally to borrow money, and occasionally, Bobbi lent him some.

‘He is Shari’s father, after all,’ was all she’d say.

Today, Bobbi was at the front desk with her glasses on, scanning the appointment book when Opal walked in.

‘Hello!’ said Bobbi, looking up delightedly. Then, with a canny look at her friend’s face, she added: ‘What’s up?’

Bobbi could read Opal’s face like a map.

‘Well …’ began Opal.

‘Come through.’ Bobbi abandoned the appointment book. ‘Let’s have tea. You can tell me what’s happening in private. Caroline,’ she called to a stylist, ‘take over the desk.’

The back room was decorated in the same pretty pink brocade wallpaper as the rest of the salon. Bobbi had seen the inside of too many places where the staffroom looked as if the owner didn’t care about where the workers had to sit for their breaks.

‘Let’s make it pretty,’ she’d said. ‘I want the staff to see how important they are to the business.’

Three years previously, when the salon had last been redecorated, the staffroom had undergone a complete transformation too. There was a big couch in one corner. One of the young beauty therapists was sitting there now, muttering on the phone in a language Opal didn’t understand.

‘Right, pet, how are you?’ Bobbi went straight to the kettle while Opal put down her handbag and sank into one of the chairs at the table. ‘Didn’t think I’d see you today. What’s happened?’

Opal found the gold envelopes in her handbag and handed them over.

‘This is what’s wrong,’ she said. ‘I don’t know, I just have a bad feeling about the wedding. Not about Liz – she’s a lovely girl, no question of that – but the wedding itself …’ Opal sighed. ‘I’m not sure I’m able for it. Miranda’s making it into such a production that you’d swear nobody ever got married before. We had “hold-the-date” cards in December, then there was weeks of discussion about bridesmaids. According to Brian, Miranda flew herself and Liz to London for their dresses – I haven’t even looked for one, and the wedding’s just round the corner. Now this. Gold envelopes that cost a fortune.’

Bobbi placed a cup of steaming tea in front of her friend and passed her the milk and sugar. ‘We’re down to custard creams,’ she said, handing over the packet of biscuits. ‘The chocolate ones have all run out. There was a bit of a crisis early on this morning.’

She looked in the direction of the distressed girl on the phone.

‘Boyfriend trouble.’

Bobbi always knew what was going on in her staff’s lives. She lowered her voice so the girl on the phone in the corner couldn’t hear. ‘Poor Magda, she’s been going out with this dreadful, dreadful lout who treats her like muck. She gave him the boot yesterday and this morning she’s in floods of tears because he turned up outside the flat last night roaring drunk and yelling, “Take me back, I promise I’ll change.”’

‘Oh no,’ said Opal, feeling the girl’s pain as if it were her own.

All her life, people had told Opal to stop being so sensitive to everyone else’s problems. Freya was the only one who said: ‘Opal, stay exactly as you are – it’s what makes you so special.’

‘Here I am complaining about a silly wedding and that poor thing’s miles away from home—’

‘Now, Opal, there’s nothing you can do for Magda. I had a pot of tea with her. I opened the chocolate biscuits and I told her what her mother would tell her if she was here instead of in the Czech Republic: that man will bring her nothing but trouble. But despite all of that, she’s on the phone to him now. Going back to him. You can only tell a girl so much. I don’t know why the loveliest girls always find the worst men, but they do. Anyway, between the jigs and the reels, the chocolate biscuits went. The custard creams aren’t bad, though.’

Bobbi sat down with her own tea, took a bite of biscuit then set it aside to examine the gold envelopes. ‘Oh hello,’ she said, examining the copperplate writing on the front. ‘These must have cost a bob or two. Clearly they’re not skimping on anything.’

‘They have the money,’ Opal said.

‘Just because you have the money doesn’t mean you have to let everyone know you have the money.’ Bobbi’s tone was scathing.

She looked at the third envelope and got it in an instant. ‘Even Meredith’s one is addressed to your house,’ she said. She kept flicking. ‘And David’s and Steve’s. That was a low blow.’

‘I thought so too,’ said Opal. ‘It’s as if—’

‘—as if she’s saying, You lot are common, low-class muck and all of you come from the wrong end of the city. I get it,’ said Bobbi grimly.

‘I shouldn’t let it upset me so much,’ Opal went on, ‘but it did. I thought I’d come down and tell you and you’d make me feel better. Because I’m so angry and it’s wrong to be like that. If you’re angry, you put anger out into the universe …’

Bobbi reached out and held her friend’s hand. ‘Pet, I’d say the Dalai Lama would feel the urge to slap Miranda’s smug face if he spent any time with her, so stop feeling guilty about it. Concentrate on how wonderful it is that Brian’s getting married. Once he’s done it, they’ll all be marrying. Think of how often you worry about the three of them and why they haven’t settled down.’

Bobbi deliberately didn’t mention Meredith here. If there was any sign of Meredith settling down, they knew nothing about it and Bobbi was aware just how hurt Opal was to be cut so efficiently out of her daughter’s life.

She went on: ‘Liz is a wonderful girl and she and Brian adore each other. But you have to face up to the fact that her mother is a complete cow – there’s no point in beating around the bush here. Nothing ever pleased that woman in her life and you can bet she won’t be happy till she’s upset someone about this wedding. Let’s just decide here and now that it won’t be you or Ned, right?’

Opal nodded.

‘We’ll get your dress sorted and make you look a million dollars. I’ll be looking a million dollars too. We’ll show Madam Miranda that we might not have been born with silver spoons in our mouths but we know how to enjoy a day out.’

‘Yes,’ said Opal, ‘that’s what we’ll do. It’ll be a great day, and then life will go back to normal.’

‘Not quite normal,’ Bobbi pointed out. ‘She is going to be your fellow granny, remember that. As soon as Brian and Liz start having children, the granny wars will be under way, you versus her. And, let’s face it, the girl’s mother gets the most time with the grandchildren.’

Opal’s sweet face fell again.

‘I shouldn’t have said that,’ Bobbi muttered. ‘It’ll be fine. Do you think Meredith will come to the wedding?’ she asked, desperate to change the subject.

‘Heavens, I don’t know. I was talking to her a couple of weeks ago and she sounded very busy, you know, going to art fairs and things like that.’

‘Hmmm,’ said Bobbi meaningfully. ‘With all the travel she does, you’d think she’d make it down this way once in a while.’

‘I know,’ said Opal. ‘But she’s a successful woman, she’s got her own life.’

It was a well-worn subject and Bobbi had learned to leave it be or risk upsetting Opal.

‘Anyway,’ she went on, ‘when are we going shopping for your dress? We’ll have a brilliant day, you and I. I’m really looking forward to it.’

‘Me too,’ said Opal.

Of course, Meredith wouldn’t be joining them on the big adventure to buy Opal a suitable mother-of-the-groom dress. That hurt, but Opal didn’t let on. She wouldn’t hear a word said against Meredith.

‘I tell you what,’ said Bobbi, who could tell all this as plainly as if it were written on Opal’s face, ‘we’ve a spare appointment this morning. Will we give your hair a wash and blow-dry? Cheer you up? Always works with me,’ she said, patting her own curls, brightened with a lustrous dose of platinum once a month. ‘On me, naturally.’

Usually Opal said no to these offers, but today she thought how good it would feel to lean back and have somebody gently massage shampoo into her hair, letting all her cares and worries drift down the sink with the suds. ‘All right,’ she said. ‘Thank you, I’d love that.’

‘Great,’ said Bobbi. ‘Let’s get you started. You’re not to worry about the wedding.’ Behind her back, Bobbi crossed her fingers. ‘It’ll all be fine. At least Brian and Liz are right for each other.’

They glanced at the red-eyed girl sitting on the sofa, still talking earnestly on the phone.

Chapter Five

When she got to Singapore, Lillie emailed Doris. She tried phoning first and left a message on her friend’s cell phone because Doris didn’t pick up. Lillie had felt terribly lonely on the flight from Melbourne to Singapore and now she was there with three hours to hang around, she felt like a lost soul walking around the airport. She kept seeing couples everywhere, people the same age as her and Sam enjoying themselves. The plane had been full of them, laughing happy people flying all over the world together and she was there alone feeling herself growing smaller and tighter like a little gnarled nut.

And so she found a seat and typed out an email:

Hi Doris,

I’m glad we had those silver surfer lessons at the library, at least I can use this thing. You’re only about my fifth email ever. Just thought I’d drop you a line … that sounds wrong, doesn’t it? That’s what we used to say with letters. I decided to say hello because I’m in Singapore airport on my own. It’s very lonely and I’m sorry I’m here. I’m sorry I came, sorry, sorry, sorry. I know Martin and Evan mean well and everything but I’d be better staying at home. Travelling alone is a very sad thing. Sorry to be dropping all this on your head, Doris, but you did say I could.

Love,

Lillie

The second part of the flight wasn’t as bad, partly because she was so exhausted trying to get comfortable in the upright seat that she actually fell asleep for a while.

The boys had wanted to upgrade her to business class.

‘Mum, you’re sixty-four, you need to stretch your legs out. You could get DVT,’ said Evan, but Lillie wouldn’t hear of it.

‘No,’ she said, ‘it’s a ridiculous amount of money. I’ll go the way we—’ She stopped herself. ‘I’ll go the way your father and I always went: economy.’

She’d have liked one of those business-class beds now, but at least she was on the outside of a row, so she could get up and walk around the plane between her intermittent periods of dozing. It had grown quieter, more peaceful, once the food had been served, the lights had been dimmed and people began to fall asleep. The stewards and stewardesses were finally sitting down, taking their break. With most of the plane quiet, she didn’t feel quite so alone as she stood outside the bathroom waiting her turn, stretching her legs and wriggling her ankles the way the video they showed had told her to do.

Inside her head, Lillie found herself talking to Sam again.

I hope this is a good idea, Sam, she told him. You’ve got to look after me. Please, my love, I need you. I wish that you were a presence beside me. I wish I was a psychic so I could feel that you’re there instead of this nothingness: that’s what scares me. You’d have told me to do this. You’d have told me to go and see Seth and Frankie, meet the family. You’d have loved it, you’d have come too and it would have been so different. The fun we’d have had. We might have stayed over in Singapore for a couple of nights in a posh hotel, done the tour. I don’t want to upset you. You wanted me to be OK and I said I would be. I told you to go. But it’s so hard without you …

The toilet door clicked open in front of her and somebody stumbled out. Lillie didn’t really want to go to the loo but she locked herself in anyway, put the lid of the toilet down and sat, just to be here on her own and cry. Was she mad, coming on this trip?

She coped at home because she was among the familiar things, among familiar people, but so many thousands of miles away from home, how could she not feel lost?

Worst of all, that niggling thought that she’d been deftly shoving to the back of her mind kept wriggling its way to the fore: what if she felt bitterness when she met Seth? What if all she could think of was that their mother hadn’t given him up for adoption?

Lillie had never been a bitter person, but then, she’d had her beloved Sam. While he was alive, she’d had so much love in her life, that she was able to give love and kindness to other people.

‘You’re an earth mother,’ Sam told her once, ‘always finding lost souls to help and pulling them close.’

‘Do I drive you mad with my schemes to help people?’ she asked thoughtfully. Sam had never said anything like that before and she felt a hint of worry that he was tired of her endless good works. A colleague in the charity shop had once given her advice on balancing healing other people with taking care of her family: ‘Lillie, you’re one of life’s givers. Mind that you don’t neglect your own family. Much as they’ll admire you for being a good person and helping others, they still want to know that they come first. They’d rather have you home making dinner than out saving the world.’

Lillie had tried always to bear that in mind, but when Sam told her she was an earth mother she wasn’t sure whether this was a good or a bad thing in his eyes. So she’d asked him.

‘No, chicken,’ he said, smiling. ‘I love you for it. You can’t stop yourself: that’s what you do. Why should I change you?’

In the cramped plane toilet, she dried her tears and hoped she was still the earth mother her husband had loved. She’d hate it if his death had changed that and she no longer had anything left to give.

Seth Green drove to the airport with so many thoughts and feelings crowding each other that he had to force himself to concentrate on the road ahead.

The whole business of finding out he had a sister had reawakened the huge sorrow at the loss of his wonderful, kind mother.

He’d always adored her. Even when other boys muttered in school about how their mothers drove them mad, and were always wittering on about wearing coats in cold weather and having a decent breakfast, Seth had never had a bad word to say about Jennifer. She was gentle and endlessly calm. He could picture her now with her strawberry-blonde hair framing that round, smiling face and those beautiful flower-blue eyes.

It was hard to believe that this loving woman had given up her first child and then carried that huge secret locked inside her the rest of her life. Of course, she’d given birth to Lillie a long time ago, a time when the past wasn’t just another country, it was more in the line of another planet altogether. A planet where women did not give birth to children outside marriage and keep them. Such babies were symbols of shame to be bundled off as quickly as possible, regardless of the mother’s feelings in the matter.

He’d often wondered how the young Jennifer McCabe had summoned up the courage to marry Daniel Green – a Jew, though admittedly non-religious, when her family were Catholic. That, too, must have been scandalous at the time. Perhaps in light of the ‘sins’ she’d committed according to the tenets of her own unforgiving Church and society, Jennifer had simply resolved to defy convention and marry the man she loved, irrespective of religion.

Seth pulled up at a set of traffic lights and checked the clock on the dashboard. He still had plenty of time.

The secrecy of it all was what had shocked him the most. He couldn’t imagine his mother as a scared teenager because the woman he’d known had always been so strong. She’d dealt with many things through the years, even taking in his father’s elderly aunt Ruth, a woman who’d never recovered from her years in a concentration camp. Ruth had somehow survived but a huge part of her spirit had been crushed. When she’d become old and frail, it had been Seth’s mother who’d taken such care of her, understanding the nightmares and the fear that never left. Jennifer was the one who’d go in to comfort Ruth in the middle of the night, changing her nightgown, being gentle and kind, sitting with her until Ruth drifted into sleep.

His mother had also been a very honest, straight person: ‘Be truthful, Seth,’ she would tell him. ‘Whatever it is you’ve done, always tell the truth.’

Yet she hadn’t told him the truth – or rather, she’d avoided telling him the whole truth – about herself.

When the email arrived from Lillie’s son, carefully worded, trying to find out information about his mother, Seth had been astonished. Frankie, of course, had been thrilled, fascinated and full of enthusiasm. It was the way his wife was.

‘You’ve a long-lost half sister!’ she’d said delightedly. ‘How wonderful! Do you suppose your father knew? I doubt there was any way of knowing where the baby went or if there were any records linking her to your mother. It’s an amazing thing to happen now though, isn’t it, finding out?’

‘I suppose so,’ he said, although, as with so many things involving his wife, it was taking a little longer for the information to sink into his head than into hers.

Frankie responded to everything so readily, her quicksilver brain processing facts at high speed. His no longer seemed to work so fast – something that he suspected irritated her these days. Seth felt that these days, his very existence irritated his wife.

He knew their marriage was going through a bad stage – something that they’d never encountered before – but he felt too broken to attempt to fix it. All he could do was let things take their course and hope that he and Frankie would come through it all.

And then the email had come with news of Lillie’s existence.

Frankie had been so … well, Frankie-like about it.

‘Lillie must come to stay. I know this place isn’t great for guests, but we can fix up a room for her somewhere,’ she’d said firmly.

It was only when Frankie began searching for the phone book, saying, ‘What’s the dialling code for Melbourne? We must ring this Martin now, and then get Lillie’s number and phone her,’ that Seth found his voice and said Stop.

He had a sister – ‘half’ didn’t matter: she was his sister – and she’d been out there in the world all along when he thought he was an only child. He thought he was pleased, although it was all still being processed in his head, but he wanted to do things slowly, all the same. He needed time to get used to the idea.

‘Her son emailed. He might get a shock if we just ring,’ he said to Frankie. ‘Plus, there’s the time difference. We can’t ring now. Let’s email back.’

‘Well, she obviously wants to get in touch or she wouldn’t have agreed to her son doing this. It’s only natural that she should want to meet you, that must be the whole point of it, that’s what people do,’ said Frankie eagerly. ‘Who better to tell her about your mother? She’s sure to have lots of questions. And aren’t you curious to see her – find out what she’s like, what she looks like? I can’t wait to tell Emer and Alexei. They’re going to be so excited – just think, a whole new branch of the family they never knew existed. I’ll send them an email right away.’

‘We should probably take it slowly,’ Seth counselled. He worked out the dates. ‘Lillie’s sixty-four, ten years older than me.’

Frankie frowned slightly. He’d noticed that she didn’t like hearing how old he was. She’d suddenly become touchy about anything to do with age. When her driving licence had come up for renewal the previous month she’d been tight-lipped as she filled in the form, attaching an admittedly not very flattering photo of herself.

‘Bloody photo machines,’ she’d said, staring at it crossly. ‘Makes me look as if I’m about ninety and sitting on a stool of nails.’

‘You’re a mere sprite of forty-nine,’ Seth had said, trying to cheer her up. ‘Talking of which, we should organize something for your fiftieth next—’

‘No!’ Her shout startled them both. Recovering, she said lamely: ‘Sorry. I just meant that we don’t have the money, that’s all. It’s a lovely thought and all, darling. But no.’

So Seth added age to the list of things he and Frankie didn’t discuss any more.

Age, the house, the state of the garden, and how it was no use him even trying to get a job, because who would want to employ him? That in particular drove her insane. She refused to accept that losing his job had transformed him from a man with a career to a man with nothing.

It was so enormous, so emasculating. Frankie simply didn’t understand. The discovery of Lillie’s existence was all the more wonderful, because at last they had something they could talk about.

When Lillie’s son responded to their email by saying that his mother didn’t do emails, and that a letter would be the best way to talk to her, Frankie had flung her hands up in despair.

‘A letter,’ she groaned. ‘Nobody writes letters any more.’

‘Lillie probably does,’ said Seth, smiling. He wondered whether his sister’s handwriting would resemble the curling, light hand of their mother, as though an angel had danced across the page. And then he realized that, without his mother to teach her, Lillie probably wouldn’t write like that. Wasn’t handwriting a product of environment?

‘We’ll ask her to stay,’ Frankie went on. ‘He doesn’t mention whether other members of the family would be interested, but we should invite them too. We’ll have them all,’ said Frankie, as if this was the most obvious thing in the world.

‘Let’s start with Lillie,’ Seth said firmly.

His wife had always been generous and enthusiastic. Frankie’s glass wasn’t just half-full, it was brimming – and she wanted to share it with everyone. It was what made her so good with people and so good at her job. Nobody could resist an HR boss like Frankie.

It didn’t make her so easy to live with when you didn’t have a job, though.

He knew she couldn’t help contrasting his handling of the situation with the way she’d behave if her job was suddenly snatched out from under her. Frankie would go at it like a whirling dervish, turning everything upside down, tossing aside any obstacles that planted themselves in her path.

Her enthusiasm for Lillie’s visit had swept aside Seth’s reservations. But now that the time had arrived, they were starting to creep back into his mind. After all, this wasn’t a long-lost relative returning after a time away. This woman had never known her birth father and mother. She had been cast out of her homeland and sent to the other side of the world for adoption. What was she going to make of Seth, the child her mother had kept close?

Seth drove slowly into the airport car park, took the ticket from the machine and circled the floors of the multi-storey until he found a parking spot. He did everything slowly now. It was as if life itself had wound down. During the day, he watched TV and there’d been a programme on redundancy and its effect on people. He had all the worst symptoms and then some. With nothing being built because of the recession, nobody had any use for an architect, especially a fifty-four-year-old one. Even if a job did appear on the horizon, he was far too old and too qualified to start somewhere new and was, therefore, unemployable.

Slipping the parking ticket into the pocket of his navy corduroys, he walked towards arrivals. He was early enough to get a coffee and a paper, to sit and wait. Lillie’s son had emailed him a photograph so he would know what she looked like. It had been taken at a family gathering. Two strong Celtic-looking men – his nephews, he realized with a jolt – were standing beside their parents. Lillie appeared to be as tall as Jennifer had been and with similar colouring; she was standing beside a man who must have once been tall but looked to have shrunken, turned in on himself. He was smiling though.

Dad’s only been dead six months, Martin had said in his email. We think this is wonderful for Mum – finding you and going to stay with you. It’s really generous of you. Obviously, it’s been painful for everyone since Dad died, but particularly for Mum. They were married over forty years. I hope it all works out. Just email or phone if there’s any problem or if Mum gets upset. We’ll fly her home in an instant. I know you said she can stay indefinitely, and thank you for that. Mum wants to recompense you both for her visit.