Mum answers. ‘Hi, Mum,’ I say. ‘It’s me, Clare.’
‘Hello.’ I can tell from the frosty reception that Mum is not impressed with my transatlantic trip. ‘I hope you’re ringing to say you’re on your way home.’
‘Mum, please.’ She still has the ability to make me feel like a naughty teenager who is late home from a party. ‘I’ll be home Wednesday morning. First thing.’
‘Whatever possessed you to go to America?’
‘I needed to come. There are so many things that don’t add up.’
‘You’re stirring trouble, that’s what you’re doing. Have you any idea how upset I’ve been? How upset your sister has been? There’s nothing in America that you need to worry about.’
‘I met Roma Kendrick,’ I say slowly.
‘What did you do that for?’
‘I wanted to ask her about things. About Dad.’
‘Honestly, Clare, I really don’t know what you’re hoping to find out or prove from this … this … carry-on. It’s ridiculous.’
‘Don’t you want to know what she said?’ I’m tired and I shouldn’t be having this conversation with Mum right now, but I can’t help myself. I’m fed up with her avoiding talking about the past.
‘No. Actually, I don’t.’
‘She said Patrick always let her believe he wasn’t my father.’ The words are out and I can’t take them back. I hear Mum gasp.
‘She would say that, wouldn’t she? What does she know?’ Mum’s in full recovery mode. ‘And even if your father did say that, he would only have been saying it for his own benefit.’
‘Why didn’t he take me, then? Why take only Alice?’
‘Enough! I’m not discussing this fanciful idea any further. Now, was there anything you wanted or did you ring up just to have another argument?’
‘I wanted to speak to Luke,’ I say, sensing I will get no further on the subject of Patrick tonight.
‘Luke’s taken the girls for their swimming lessons. Of course, if you were at home you’d know that,’ she says, with no sign of the frost thawing. ‘Hold on a moment, Alice is saying something.’ I hear muffled voices and guess Mum has put her hand over the receiver. She comes back after a moment. ‘Alice wants to speak to you. I’ll pass you over.’
I try to protest that Alice, or rather Martha, is the last person I want to speak to, but the receiver exchanges hands before I can speak and then I hear Martha.
‘Hello, Clare,’ she says. ‘How are you?’
‘I’m fine,’ I say. ‘Look, I’m quite busy, did you want anything important?’ My skin tingles, as if a thousand ants are making their way around my body. I close my eyes and focus my mind, throwing away thoughts of my sister that may betray me.
‘Mum says you’re in America,’ says Martha. I can hear the acoustics change and assume Martha is moving away from the kitchen, or wherever she took the call, to find a more private space, away from Mum. The sound of a door closing confirms this.
‘That’s right,’ I say. I can take this conversation one of two ways. I opt for keeping up the pretence for now. I don’t want this all to come to a head in the UK while I’m stuck over here in the States. ‘I was going to stay with a friend up in Cambridgeshire, but changed my mind at the last minute.’ I keep the facts to a minimum.
‘Cool. Where exactly are you? Anywhere near my neighbourhood?’ There’s a light-hearted tone to her words, but I suspect this is false. Martha is wary.
‘No. No. I’m in New York.’ I close my eyes and hope Martha doesn’t notice how quiet it is. ‘I’m in my hotel room at the moment,’ I add to counter the lack of background noise of a busy city.
‘Is that so?’ she says. ‘Of course, if you were in Florida, I’d be wondering who you were talking to. Whether you were hanging out at any of the places I used to. Talking to my friends and all.’ She gives a little laugh. And I mean little.
I return the laugh. ‘Oh yeah, I could, couldn’t I? And that wouldn’t do at all.’
‘No, that wouldn’t. But then, you shouldn’t believe everything everyone says. You, of all people, should know that,’ says Martha. There’s an awkward pause and I can feel the tension crackle up and down the line between us. ‘Knowledge is a dangerous thing.’
‘Knowledge is power,’ I say.
‘I’m also of the mind that ignorance is bliss,’ she retorts, her voice dropping an octave, her words slower as each one is emphasised. ‘That way no one gets hurt.’